#buddy your statement is embarrassing

[ijustlovehockey]

Dude has contradicted himself really badly here by saying the bible is his highest authority in life ( 🤮 ) but then saying you strongly believe every person has value and worth and that the LGBTQIA+ community should be welcomed.

Bro my bi ass will come over there to San Jose and tie you to the goalie net so you can be used as a practice dummy 🫡

[zorobraun]

ex husband ghost at your kiddo’s football game part two

“dad, what does ‘sex’ means?” theo asks, looking at simon while they’re playing video games. his father freezes. “what did you just say?” simon stares at his son in disbelief, instantly crashing the car in the game. “sex.” theo says again, his bright soft eyes full of innocence. simon swallows hard, frowning his nose. “first of all, how did you discover the existence of this word?” simon raises an eyebrow at the kid, laughing quietly. “mommy’s friend.” theo replies in a worried tone, his cheeks getting red from both regret and embarrassment.

“is that so?” simon’s tone is a bit angry now. “i’ll have a word with your mom, then.” he adds with a sigh, looking at his son. “don’t, please. it’s not her fault… she was very uncomfortable.” theo’s eyes are desperate and worried. “don’t worry, buddy. i’ll just talk to her… nicely.” simon reassures him with a soft smile, caressing theo’s head. he nods with a half hearted smile. “her friend was saying something about… mom missing the sex she had with you. i wasn’t supposed to hear that, but she’s too loud.” theo swallows hard, looking away.

simon is in shock. he holds back a laugh. “and mom said that… she can’t help but miss having sex with you, that you’re the best she ever had.” theo completes with hesitation in his tone. “oh my god, really?” simon asks with a fake surprise, laughing out loud. he’s not cocky, but he obviously knew that already, you used to tell him all the time. “yes, dad…” theo mutters with a light chuckle, still confused about the meaning of his mom’s statement.

simon shakes his head, still laughing in disbelief. “your mom is crazy, huh?” he says in a playful tone, wrapping his big arms around theo. “sometimes.” the kid replies, laughing too. “so… what’s ‘sex’, anyway?” theo raises an eyebrow, curious and confused. simon takes a deep breath, staring at his son in a serious, calm way. “sex is… an intimate moment that you share with someone you trust.” he explains in a non explicit way, smiling softly. “really? so you and mom… you trusted each other.” theo smiles sadly. “actually, it was more than trust. we… we loved each other, which makes the experience even better.” simon adds in a calm tone.

“do you miss having… that… with mom?” theo raises an eyebrow, innocent and naive as always. simon suddenly sighs quietly, the memories eating him alive. “i can’t believe we’re talking about this, buddy.” he lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “but yeah, i miss it.” he pauses. “i miss everything.” a sad smile appears on simon’s lips. theo stares into his father’s eyes. he knows that simon is not okay, but he decides to ignore that and give him a tight hug. “let’s get you back to mommy’s house.” simon breaks the silence, kissing theo’s temple.

a few minutes later, simon and theo are standing in your doorstep. you quickly open the door with a smile, since you were already expecting them. you crouch when you see theo, hugging him while you kiss his soft cheeks. “i’ve missed you!” you chuckle quietly, kissing all over his face. “mom, stop, it tickles!” he chuckles, pulling away from you. simon smiles softly in silence. the loud thunder makes the three of you look at the sky. the rain is just getting worse.

you look at simon. his eyes look like coming home. like listening to an old good song after months without listening to it. “hi.” you greet him, smiling. “hey.” simon smiles back, his fingers interlocking with your strands, caressing your head gently. “he already had dinner. and he also showered.” simon tells you, just like always. most of your conversations with him are like this. you nod with a smile. “um, you should come in. it’s raining too much.” you look at simon with a an awkward smile, making him chuckle quietly as he shakes his head. “it’s fine, but thanks.” he says, looking at you. “seriously, don’t drive right now. don’t make me worried.” you reply, touching his arm in a friendly way. simon seems to be hesitant.

“please, dad. stay a little longer.” theo grabs simon’s hand, pulling him inside. simon could never deny his son, so he gives in, clearing his throat before looking around your cozy living room. the living room that was once his, too. it’s a bit awkward to realize that he let you stay without even thinking twice, while he had to buy another place to live. “make yourself at home.” you say the magic words and simon feels that pain in his heart. this is his home. or used to be…

“can i get you something to drink?” you ask with a weak smile. “i’m fine, thanks.” he smiles back and you nod. simon takes a seat on the couch, theo throws himself beside his father. before you could sit next to theo, he leaves the couch to give attention to the puzzle on the ground. you and simon look at each other with a soft smile. you sit next to simon on the couch, making sure to keep a certain distance. “so, did you guys have fun?” you ask with a playfulness in your tone. “of course, mom.” theo chuckles, focused on the puzzle. simon chuckles too, his gaze shifting from theo to you.

“hey, can i talk to you about something?” simon asks, laying his arm lazily on the couch, his body turned towards you. you swallow hard, nodding. “sure. what is it?” you smile nervously. “tell claire to stop talking about sex in front of my son, for fuck’s sake.” simon laughs quietly, touching your hand and squeezing it in a playful manner. your cheeks get instantly red. “w-what? i mean, how… how do you know it’s claire?” you seem embarrassed at first but you end up laughing, slapping simon’s thigh.

“i know all of your friends, idiot. only claire would talk about such things in front of theo.” simon laughs again, making you laugh even more. “i already told her, alright? she’s impossible, i swear…” you smile playfully as you shake your head. “oh, i can tell.” simon mutters in a joking tone. you raise an eyebrow at him, mockingly. “she’s so blunt, it’s funny.” he adds, chuckling.

“she really is. remember that time when you first saw her? it was right in the beginning of our relationship, we had just started dating…” you say with a nostalgic smile. simon’s attention is fixed on you, a laugh wanting to leave his throat because he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “fuck yeah… she said: oh, honey. this isn’t your boyfriend anymore, it’s ours. i couldn’t believe my ears when she said that.” simon completes, laughing out loud, just like you.

“oh my god… i was so embarrassed. i felt so bad for you.” you mumble between chuckles, grabbing simon’s arm in a playful manner. “i was willing to break up with you, she almost scared me off.” simon jokes in a teasing tone, chuckling. you roll your eyes with a laugh, pushing him away. he laughs, adjusting himself on the couch. you stare at his lap for some reason, maybe because you just had flashbacks of the two of you having some late night fun on this couch. simon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly judging your malicious stare. you shy away.

the tension is too heavy when simon sighs quietly, staring into your eyes with so much longing that it almost hurts. he misses you like crazy… but then his brain reminds him that your boyfriend is probably upstairs, waiting for you, as he lays down on the bed that you used to share with simon. suddenly, he gets mad. he gets mad because that stupid boyfriend of yours doesn’t deserve you. he can’t even handle being with a woman like you. simon clears his throat uncomfortably, trying his best to ignore his intrusive thoughts.

“mom, did you tell dad about your wedding?” theo breaks the silence while focused on his puzzle and the world stops. simon holds his breath for a while, staring into your eyes as if he’s pleading to hear that this wedding thing is a joke. he feels like theo’s words opened an unhealed wound. he sighs quietly, looking away. the realization hits him. so you weren’t bluffing when you said that you were actually willing to marry your boyfriend. your eyes are filled with despair as you notice simon’s reaction, you can almost hear his heart shattering. “i’m so happy for you.” he finally says something, but his words are meaningless, shallow. he leaves the couch so he doesn’t have to be near you.

“w-wait, where are you going?” you stand up too, grabbing his arm. “i’m going home.” simon replies with a fake soft smile. you can see in his eyes that he’s devastated. “simon, just… stay. let’s talk.” you swallow hard as your touch stays on him. “i think we’re both done talking.” he replies in an annoyed, upset tone, still faking a small smile. “no, simon. i know you…” you insist in a frustrated frown. “don’t leave me in the dark, alright? please. your opinion matters to me.” your voice breaks a little, already fighting the urge to cry. simon has that pain hidden in his face, that you only saw when he was right on the edge.

“what do you want me to say, y/n? do you need my approval, is that it? don’t you think i’ve had enough of your bullshit already?” simon asks with an extreme frustration in his tone, a hint of betrayal. you hold eye contact with him in silence. a silence that’s too loud. you lick your lips nervously, swallowing hard. “i need… i need you to be okay with this. i need to hear you say that i won’t hurt you if i marry him.” you say in a whisper, your eyes tearing up.

simon sighs heavily, looking away in disbelief. he takes a step back. “oh, you want me to be okay with this? you must be out of your goddamn mind.” simon says with a hint of sarcasm. “i can’t keep doing this, y/n. i can’t keep getting in the way of your new love life, just because you want me to. stop relying on me to make decisions that i don’t have the power to make. i’m so fucking tired of having to watch you give all of your love to another man, right in front of my eyes.” simon stares at you with a certain anger as he comes closer again, grabbing the back of your neck with both hands. he’s tearing up. “can’t you see that?” he whispers, almost begging.

“you ended me the night you asked for a divorce instead of trying to make things right again, because you know damn well that i was more than happy to fight for you. for our marriage.” simon’s tired eyes are still on yours, just like his hands on the back of your neck. “so yes, you will hurt me if you marry him. after all we’ve been through… you betrayed me. i spent years loving you, treating you right, taking care of you, helping you through tough times… just so you could change your mind about us and fall in love with someone new in less than a year.” his chest tightens with his own words, pure betrayal consuming his veins.

“all i ever wanted was you, with all of your qualities and flaws. i wanted my son to have both of his parents living under the same roof. but maybe i asked for too much.” he says, a hint of disappointment in his low voice. tears start running down your cheeks and he sighs tiredly, wiping your tears away, again. “you see? you break me in half but i’m always the one to put you back together somehow, when your boyfriend should be doing it. so look me in the eyes and say that he deserves to be with you. say it. you can’t. because it’s my hand you reach for when you’re falling apart.” simon adds, kissing your tears away. it catches you off guard.

you can’t seem to have the strength to answer, so you just stay silent, feeling the safe warm feeling of his touch on you. simon stares into your eyes, waiting for a response. “y-you don’t understand, simon…” you mutter in a shaky voice. his hands are shaky too. he closes his eyes for a second, feeling even more frustrated and desperate with your words. his pleading gaze fixed on you, his chest rising up and down.

“you don’t seem to understand how this breaks my heart, love. you haunt me. i search for you in anyone, anywhere. i search for you in my empty bed, in the passenger’s seat of my car. in the grocery store, by my side, reading our grocery list out loud. i search for you when i’m out with our friends, when i’m at my mom’s and she asks how have you been, when i’m watching our favorite movie with theo for the thousandth time.” he swallows the lump in his throat. you close your eyes, you can’t handle it anymore. “god knows i even miss your toothbrush next to mine.” he chuckles quietly and sadly, making your heart break.

theo stares at his parents with sad, guilty eyes. but he knows that this seems to be a conversation for adults, only. so he stays quiet, turning his attention back to the puzzle. “you said you wanted my opinion, so i’ll give you just that. i want you to be happy, with or without me. if you’re sure that he’s the one for you, marry him. don’t let me hold you back.” simon’s voice is trembling, he keeps holding back his tears, he needs to sound firm and reassuring. “i’ve got you, always.” he adds and you sob uncontrollably, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

you hide your face in the crook of his neck while he strokes your waist gently. “i… i can’t live without you.” you whisper against his skin, almost begging for him to keep getting in the way of your new love life. simon sighs heavily. “you don’t mean that, love. you were the one who decided to live without me in the first place.” he places a bitter kiss on the top of your head. simon hates the fact that you make him weak to the point where he doesn’t even mind being raw and vulnerable. you know all sides of him, anyway. just like he knows all of yours.

“dad, please…” theo mutters, making the two of you stare at him with surprised eyes. “just tell her.” he turns his gaze towards his parents, holding back a cry. simon immediately walks towards him, crouching in front of the kid. he feels terrible for having that type of conversation with you in front of his son. theo starts crying quietly, making simon widen his eyes with a certain despair. “h-hey, kiddo, it’s okay…” simon picks him up, hugging him tightly. “i’m so, so sorry. i shouldn’t have said all of that in front of you, i’m sorry, buddy.” simon strokes theo’s back, kissing the top of his head.

you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, trying your best to stop crying. you have to be strong for your son. you walk towards them. “you always make her cry, dad…” theo mutters with a sob and simon’s heart and breathing stop for a moment. “theo, baby, no… it’s not like this at all.” you stand up for simon, caressing your son’s wet cheeks. “your dad is… the most caring, lovable person in this whole world, okay? don’t ever say that again.” you plead him, kissing his forehead. simon feels like shit.

“he’s a liar… he said that you’re still his love… that he misses everything.” theo says in a low tone, touching your face. simon sighs heavily with a defeated frown. you look at simon in silence, speechless. “enough, theo.” simon says in a more firm tone. he puts his son back on the ground, crouching in front of him. simon looks theo in the eyes, grabbing his shoulders gently. “sometimes love is not enough, but you’re too young to understand that.” simon completes, caressing his son’s cheeks.

theo stares at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your response to his father’s statement. but you never open your mouth. “i already told you, mommy’s in love with someone else and that’s okay. that’s life. people come and go, right? just like waves. you know when we’re at the beach, swimming in the sea? the waves, they come and go.” simon smiles softly at him, kissing the top of his head before standing up. theo looks at you, disappointed.

“i-i do love you, simon.” you grab his arm, getting a little mad at his statement. “don’t say that in front of our son.” you scold him with red, puffy eyes. “you know exactly what i meant.” simon bites back, almost in an angry whisper, touching your arm briefly. “just be happy, alright? but don’t you dare be happier than you were with me. do this one thing for me, love.” he adds as a single sour tear runs down his cheek. he can’t hold back anymore. simon runs his fingers through your hair gently, while more tears start filling up his eyes. he breathes out, placing his hand on the back of your neck.

you’re staring at him as if you’re screaming i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for punishing you for things you never did. he pulls your face closer to his, leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, so you can’t see how betrayed he feels in the corner of his eyes. “you broke me like your promises, but just between us… you’ll never be unloved by me. you’re too well tangled in my soul.” he whispers, being completely honest. you sob, speechless. then he kisses you. it’s not a passionate kiss. it’s a sad, tender, salty kiss. it’s the last kiss. it’s the closure kiss, for him.

this is the night in which simon finally sets himself free from the bitter embrace of your ghost. he officially gave up on you, for good. and you can feel it too — in the way he breaks the kiss without even looking at your face. he even seems a bit disgusted. simon pulls away from you, walking towards the door without looking back. now you feel cold without his body to make you warm. “i’ll pick you up at school tomorrow, kid.” simon mutters to theo in a defeated cold tone before leaving your house.

your love maimed him so excruciatingly well that suddenly he feels like a soldier who’s returning half his weight, waiting for his lover’s deadly kiss to put him in a never ending sleep.

[rheiple]

Sun wants to be your favorite.

Have you noticed? From the way he greets you with a really tight hug and a little twirl, unlike how he only gives his other friends a quick pat on their shoulder and a handshake at best. The way he like to help you with work whether it’d be passing out the tools you needed, reaching stuff you can’t reach at, or even giving you the emotional support you needed when you feel like you can’t complete a task at hand. Please, he’s practically giving you the puppy eyes waiting for your praises, whenever he gives you a gift he hand made, cause he believes that putting effort like hand made crafts is much more romantic than buying it. Not that he mind buying stuff for you that is! Whatever you need, he’ll give you all, because you’re his favorite human!

And when you do give him compliments and praises? Ohh you flatter him so much! Internally squealing like a school girl who gushes about their crush, it’s so bad that he’s been nagged at by Moon. He doesn’t care though, he’s just jealous that he’s our favorite!

He doesn’t really believe it, but when you gently cup his face to admire his blue eyes, his golden rays and his pearly white smile. You told him that he’s such a pretty boy? He practically melts because of how hot his circuits are! Oh don’t look at him, you’re making him blush!

But you know what he really really likes? Whenever it’s his turn to praise and compliment you, he gets to see you overheat! Your flushed cheeks, awkward smile not being used to such statements about you, and the way your pretty eyes dart around to look anywhere but him. Oohhh he can’t wait to just eat you up! Acting all shy like that, and you’ll get a hyper Sun not letting you out of his love bombing.

He really likes you, and you seem to like him too! So is he your favorite boy? He really really hopes so !

.

.

.

Moon is your favorite.

Oh, he’s not going to sit and hope that he’s your favorite. He knows he is your favorite. I mean, you wouldn’t go out of your way to be nice and be buddy buddy with him right? He found it cute that one time you were too shy to start up a conversation with him, thinking he’s not much of a talker. He really isn’t, he prefers to listen to your voice. But if you asked him, he’d talk and talk. Wanna hear about facts of the solar system? Or hear about that one time a kid took a dookie on Sun? Oh, he’s just joking Sunny boy, he’s not that mean to embarrass you to his favorite human. Do you want to hear a story? About the spooky rabbit lady who likes to kidnap bad children? Or a love story about a human… and a robot..

Hah, he doesn’t know what your talking about Starlight. It sounds familiar? Well, yes because it’s based on a book he read. What book? Uh, he’s actually gate keeping it. Sorry Star, the book was too good for him to share it. Him? Projecting his feelings on the story?

His gonna put you in naptime for that.

Ohh but don’t think he didn’t noticed the way your eyes shined with stars whenever he lifted something heavy to help you with your duties. Like what you see? You’re practically ogling at his physique. Not that he minds, he loves your undevided attention. You get excited and hype him up whenever he does the lifting. His face plate spins in glee thinking about being your big and strong man.

He likes really teasing you, he sees your flushed cheeks and hears your heart rate speeding up little by little. He gets the sudden urge to just pinch and pull your cheeks really hard.

Oh, but you always like to take revenge. Stroking his cheeks and looking at him like he’s the million dollars you’ve won at the lottery. Telling him how he’s such a handsome man. He might’ve grumbled, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t loved it. He’s just very flustered at your compliments. No Star, I’m hiding in my hat- hey don’t take it off of me!

He knows you never get mad at him whenever he steals shiny trinkets and presents it to you. You just really love how he really really loves you. You know you’re his favorite human, his actions have shown it… So it’d make sense that he’s also your favorite, when you reciprocate his love for you right?

I got the sudden energy to write this when I listened to the song called "Pretty boy" by Naethan Apollo. The song is such a banger I would recommend it to y'all.

[argreion]

A wholsome request drabble of zombie! re2 leon x human! Reader👀 something similar to the movie warm bodies kashakjssj

OKOK, finished the movie. Decently fresh in my mind, and ngl—loved itttt! It was so cute! If you need something a little honest/goofy to watch, GO WATCH IT!

And since we all know with how we've seen Leon... Dumbass can't drive! So, why not teach the zombie version of him how to drive? 🥰PLUS A LITTLE DANCE? I can'ttttt.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Zombie RE2! Leon with Human! Reader!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Nearly 12 hours went by, huddled up in an airplane seat with a flimsy blanket. Protecting you from the invading stare of the zombie that killed your boyfriend. A few days, he said, till you could return home. With those twelve hours, you learned a lot. One of the things you learned is: Don't let L drive.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Sure, you only asked what you could do to pass the days. Sure, you didn't expect to be racing around the plane’s runway. Again, sure, you didn't expect to be told ‘It’s not safe.’ multiple times.  This, though? Fun! Who knew being pulled alongside a zombie who ate your boyfriend and stole his memories hid this?

Hands-on the steering wheel and screaming at the top of your lungs. Should've shut up, honestly, you'd attract more of L—His friends, family, whatever they were.

He seemed content staring at you for a few seconds, then at the window. Leaning to the side as he glanced towards you. Mouth agape slightly as you met his gaze. A forced, nervous smile on your face as you asked,

“Would you like to try, L? You’re kinda staring, y’know?”

He seemed to take note, glancing away. Did zombies get embarrassed? Could've sworn he blushed a little.  It surprised you he could say a few words, anyway. Gently, you elbowed him. A grunt came from his lips as you proceeded to speak once more.

“You know you want to… C’mon.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

With each squeak of wheels suddenly stopping to jerk you forward, you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Driving didn’t seem like L’s strong suit. Never thought you’d teach a zombie how to drive.

“You choose a foot.” You stated, now leaning towards him. Feels cliché to a degree, like the movies with the endings. Kissing in the sunset like right now if you could. Zombie kissing wasn’t on your to-do list. Mmmmm, maybe, but just the cheek.

Leon paused, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. Pondering your statement as he shifted a little. Before the car began flying forward with you yelping. Your yelping turns into a laugh of joy when the car picks up speed.

He seems proud of himself—you’re proud of him, too. Cute little guy, he was, with that baby face. Aside from the veins running up his face and discolored skin, you could see yourself giving a small kiss. Proud like a parent whose kid just rode a bike without training wheels.

The zombie looked over at you, half of his face twitching into a smile. His hand slipped off the steering well as he continued to stare at you.  Leaning in close, he seemed to say with his eyes, ‘Are you impressed, yet?’

Sure, buddy, sure.

Sure as hell was impressed when he proceeded to crash the car.

The one time you don’t drive is the one time you proceed to crash. The poor car now has a dent in the hood. Impressing a lady was nice, L, real nice. 

“This was a nice car!”

You groaned, rubbing your face. Head smacked against the headrest as you laughed. This was stupid, you were stupid, everything was stupid! L seemed just fine sitting there, staring at you. Get him brown contacts, please…

“At least you didn’t crash, well, not literally. Nice job for a first-time driving, superstar.”

You smirked, leaning over to give his cheek a small kiss. The zombie’s eyes widened, seemingly staring into space. His inner monologue was screaming.

“Let’s not do this again, yeah?”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Getting back to the airplane was easier said than done. Swinging your arms, welcoming back the HHH, as you called it; Hoarder’s Hobbit Hole. Bobbles and Trinkets… Why was the Lucky Charms theme playing in your head? Pfft, wish you could've eaten some before this shitshow.

Filing through L’s small collection of vinyl. Surprised this still existed in a world like this. Legs loosely crisscrossed as you stifled through.

“So, you don’t know how to use an iPod, huh?”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, waving one of the vinyl in your hand.

“Why? Too complicated?”

Leon grumbled, fixing his hoodie so he’d look slightly more presentable. He already liked you that way. Meeting eyes while you shotgunned his group down. Surely love at first sight, yeah? He shook off his small daze, before gesticulating with his hands. A small circle with his finger as he responded verbally.

“S-sound…” He paused, stuttering more, “More a-alive.”

That sounds like an excuse to you.

“True, but much more trouble.” You chuckled, before finally settling on one of the vinyls.

Bruce Springsteen — Hungry Heart

Now standing up and gently pressing the record into the player. Gently pressing the needle onto the grooves as the music came to life. Letting one finally relax as you stood up, already in somewhat of a zone as you did a small twirl. Pulling the poor zombie into a small jig.

Gently holding his hands as you stood in place. Shoulders moving with a dopey smile on your face. Moving your head as you gently tugged him.

Leon could get used to this, he wished you didn't have to leave. Seeing you laugh, yell, the kiss on his cheek, your smell, anything. Almost like he felt alive again with you. Most of that thought went by as you attempted to dance with him. A little stumble, stiff movement, and the choked-out words of the zombie.

He felt slightly alive again. Leon felt alive with you.

[alitheakorogane]

Freedom's Protection: Stirring Up a Hurricane

Summary: The bomb was finally dropped, leaving nothing but a series of chain reactions spreading around the area... Literally. Venti revealed himself as the Anemo Archon Barbatos to his people as a last resort for defending you, causing the entire nation of Mondstadt to go into chaos.

This is the fourth part of Mondstadt's storyline for the Reader Protection Squad SAGAU series.

Note: There are instances of grammatical errors, please bear with me. Also, the entire layout was now changed and I placed a title on them so I could not be confused while I write the next chapters. It's still the same story though. Honestly, I have a hard time writing this part, that's why it took me so long.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4 (current), 5, 6, 7

"You could say that I am more than just a mere drunkard bard, Miss Rosaria."

"After all, how could I ever spread blasphemous words about myself?"

------------

The bomb was finally dropped, leaving nothing but a series of chain reactions spreading around the area... Literally.

You wanted to slam your head on the wall or slap Venti to his senses. He just literally drop a bombshell on everyone regarding the non-so-subtle secret he had kept for months, and the ones who had heard of it were looking at Venti like he had grown a second head.

What the hell, Venti?!

There are some who don't get it, but those people who are quick enough to understand what the bard has implied were shocked to the core.

This drunkard bard was delusional, is he really the Anemo Archon? He must be drunk.

Diluc should not let this drunkard drink Dandelion Wine again, he looks young but he can drink an entire stock in one go like there's no tomorrow, and now he spewing nonsense.

Rosaria just glared as she asked her usual drinking buddy in disbelief, "What do you mean, blasphemous words about yourself?"

The young bard ignored the vigilant nun and turn to one of the sisters of the Church, who was just standing with the common folk, "Sister Gotelinde, do you remember the first time we officially met, where I was trying to borrow the Holy Lyre der Himmel?"

Gotelinde nodded as she remembered the first time she had talked to the bard personally and responded with a thoughtful voice, "Yes, it was the time of the Stormterror incident. You tried to borrow the Holy Lyre to save Dvalin but since you have no documents permitting you to borrow it legally, you had the guts to introduce yourself as the Anemo Archon. I never believed you that time because it's preposterous and it's impossible for a simple drunkard bard to be the missing Archon."

"WAIT, WHAT?!"

The citizens of Mondstadt had exclaimed when they heard the nun's outrageous statement, the nuns had exclaimed the hardest.

Deaconess Barbara's eyes widened as gears started to turn in her head as she now connected the dots. She remembered the time Venti had temporarily fixed the Holy Lyre der Himmel a few months ago, she and the nuns had found out that the Lyre was broken again after weeks, but she was still wondering how this bard fix a holy relic, although temporarily. Now she had found her answer, it makes sense that the only one who could restore it (although temporarily) is the Anemo Archon himself.

Then she remembered her actions towards Venti and his friends at that time. It was embarrassing, and she couldn't help but paled at the thought of her Archon seeing her breaking down in front of him and accusing him of destroying the Lyre... His Holy Lyre der Himmel.

Calvary Captain Kaeya Alberich, who was just silent the whole ordeal, was staring at the bard with searing intensity. He wondered if his drinking buddy was the Anemo Archon because if he really is the respectable Lord Barbatos, Venti may have already known about Kaeya's real nationality. After all, he was considered to be a sinner from a godless land that was destroyed hundreds of years ago.

Venti smiled sweetly, as he bowed down like he always does after finishing his performance, "Now you know my secret, citizens of the City of Freedom. Now my disciples, rejoice! Behold, the Anemo Archon, Barbatos has descended!"

He then stood up with confidence in his voice, his eyes glittering in mischief, "Shocked, aren't you? Don't you just want to cry out and rejoice? How does it feel to finally meet the god you've been serving?"

Everyone was in chaos, some of the nuns had fainted, and the Deaconess seems to be in a catatonic state, as she remembered her embarrassing interactions with the bard before. The citizens of all ages were astounded to hear the bard's remarks, the devotees of the Archon were paling at the thought of a homeless drunk bard being the regal and freedom-loving Lord Barbatos.

You could say that was kind of... unpleasant, to say that at least.

One of the senior nuns of the Church of Favonius, Mother Maria, then spoke to some Knights who were standing awkwardly at each other.

"Arrest that bard and his comrades immediately! We will execute him and that imposter for emulating Lord Barbatos and the Divine Grace, and imprison the others for colluding with the suspect!"

"Now, now, Mother Maria, I think this is a mistake," Jean spoke up as she tried to reason out why they can't do such a horrendous thing. The fact that Mondstadt hasn't conducted an execution, whether private or public, in a hundred years makes this decision a little bit unfair. Especially with Jean knowing Venti's identity, the bard being killed and sacrificed at the hands of his beloved citizens to appease the same person they had adored and held in high regard was a little bit ironic. It is not a good way to show praise to their Archon, after all.

The majority of the crowd agreed as they screamed their approval of the decision to arrest them. With slight hesitation in their eyes, Knights rushed into action, with no choice over the matter. The lower guards are tasked to calm down the crowd, while others are tasked to take the rebellious young adults to their custody, especially you and Venti.

For the first time in her life, Jean felt helpless. She may be the Acting Grand Master, but she was against a bunch of angry mobs who had records of being devoted to Lord Barbatos with the Church backing them. The Knights and the Church have equal power in Mondstadt to maintain peace and freedom in the nation, and they both swear to the power of their Anemo Archon to serve Mondstadt and its people, hence giving them equal authority.

They rushed to Venti to capture him, as you yelped and covered your eyes as you can't bear to see the scene unfold in front of you, while Bennett and Razor pulled you in their backs to serve their bodies as your meat shield. The Prinzessin der Verurteilung was pointing her bow while Oz was preparing to strike the other team with Electro.

"As much as I hated to fight all of you since I'm your Archon and it's my duty to protect you but you leave me no choice..."

Venti sighed as he raised his hand to raise a small wind barrier, encasing himself, you, and the rest of the current Benny's Adventure Team. The guards who tried to reach the bard first were hit face-first in the barrier. Eula and Noelle tried to hit the barrier with their claymores many times but it never shattered.

Unfortunately, Amber tried to hit the barrier with her Pyro arrows, but since Anemo is known to be reactive to elemental power besides Dendro and Geo, they just bounced back and created a Swirl reaction, hurting some Knights nearest to the barrier. You opened your eyes in time and gasped in shock, as you see the injured knights and citizens who were unfortunately hit by the Pyro-Anemo combo. There have slight burns on their skins, some of them unconscious.

Screams of anguish and groans of pain were heard in the area, as many people were shocked by the tragic scene in front of them. Many voices had been heard, making your ears hurt over the matter, but you couldn't help but stare at Venti instead, who was turning pale as his favorite flower.

"He used his Anemo Vision!"

"I kind of forgot that that bard was blessed by the gods... Why of all people deserved of them, why them?"

"They had been injured, please help them!"

But there is one yell from one of the people that makes you stop in your tracks, and you knew that Venti is going to hear these piercing words:

"IF HE WAS THE ANEMO ARCHON THAT HE REALLY SAID HE WAS, THEN WHY WOULD HE TRY TO HURT HIS PEOPLE?"

------------

The cliffhanger was a giveaway, isn't it?

Do I need to announce that Part 5 is in the works since this was intended to be long ass until I decided to cut it again into two parts? I got too carried away, it seems.

To be honest, I apologize for OOC Venti and other characters involved in advance if you feel like they are, it's just that it's my first time writing for Genshin Impact actually. I used to write for Detective Conan and Assassination Classroom before, and this was new territory for me. I'm so glad many appreciated the SAGAU fics I made for the fandom.

Taglist: @mulandi, @yuziriha, @multifandomvoyage, @chihawari, @angstylittleb1tch, @forgotten-blues, @yourlocaldrugdealerbutfancy, @shizunxie, @lunxa472, @foggyzinemuffinhands, @ann-aha, @birbtweettweet, @swaggyb0ke, @beezgobuzzbuzz, @that-boi-sus, @the-psychotic-blueberry, @campanula-rotundifolia, @fauxizs, @lilqi, @angstylittleb1tch, @forgotten-blues, @yourlocaldrugdealerbutfancy, @shizunxie, @lunxa472, @foggyzinemuffinhands,

[munson-blurbs]

Hurt People

This is just me giving an accurate depiction of what would most likely happen if Eddie Munson was real and went to high school with me. I’m sad tonight.

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, insults, bullying

WC: 718

—

You don’t know how you didn’t see it coming. Maybe it’s because he’s Eddie, the boy—young man, really—thrust into the fringes of society because of his affinity for metal music and fantasy games. Maybe it’s because you’d assumed outcasts, loners, losers, looked out for one another. Or maybe you were just delusional, rose-colored glasses shielding you from what you couldn’t, wouldn’t see.

You and Eddie don’t have any classes together, with you electing to take honors classes and him struggling with introductory courses. You’d never judged him for it, never thought less of him because of it; some people’s talents lay outside of academia. Rumor has it that he’s a decent guitar player, though your parents’ strict rules forbid you from checking out a gig. Truly, you don’t know much about him except that he’s on his third round of senior year and, in your opinion, is the cutest guy at Hawkins High.

The opportunity to befriend him presents itself in the unassuming form of Honor Society volunteer hours. Mrs. O’Donnell needs someone to tutor Eddie in chemistry so she can get him the hell out of her class, and you eagerly offer to be his teacher. Quiet afternoons together in the library might lead to secrets whispered, kisses shared…

The first tutoring session is…fine. Eddie’s completely disinterested in the material, which is to be expected. You keep drawing his attention back to the lab report he’s supposed to be writing, trying to maintain your composure as your patience wears thin.

When he’s barely accomplished anything at the end of the hour, you tell him to meet you back in the study room tomorrow after school.

“You need to hand this in on time,” you say softly but firmly. “Don’t wanna lose points for late work.”

He grumbles as he grabs his tin lunchbox and carelessly shoves the lab report into his backpack, not even saying goodbye.

The next day, you muster up the courage to approach his lunch table. You’ve got your old chemistry study guides clenched in your fists; the idea is to offer them to him so he doesn’t have to reference his own scribbled notes for his upcoming quiz. Just a casual, “hey, I figured you could use these.” Yeah, that could work.

You’re ten feet away when you hear his boisterous laugh. “Oh, and get this,” he’s saying to his friends, “she wants me to study again with her today! Like yesterday wasn’t bad enough.”

“Dude,” one of his buddies chuckles, sympathetically shaking his head and clapping his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “it’s just your luck that the one girl crushing on you happens to be the ugliest girl in the school.”

Your blood runs cold, nerves buzzing in anticipation of Eddie’s response. Surely he’ll tell the guy that he’s gone too far, that poking fun at your appearance is uncalled for.

But Eddie just gives him the finger and replies, “tell me about it. And now I gotta sit there while she makes heart-eyes at me, unless I wanna face O’Donnell’s wrath. Again.”

Tell me about it. Tell me about it. Tell me about it.

There’s no defending you, no sense of irritation with his friend’s statement. It’s pure, unfiltered agreement.

You’re the ugliest girl in school, and even Eddie Munson thinks so.

Tears blur your vision as you make a beeline out of the cafeteria, dumping your papers in the nearest trash can. You’re sorry you wasted your precious time digging them up. Humiliation seeps into your skin. It doesn’t matter if no one else heard him, because you did. And the information isn’t novel to you—you’re not Chrissy Cunningham or Nancy Wheeler, not by a longshot. No, you’re embarrassed because you’d deluded yourself into thinking that Eddie could see you in a way that others didn’t, in a way that you simply couldn’t.

A large part of you hoped that Eddie would see your status as a fellow freak and applaud you for it, welcome you into his group, take you under his wing. That seems like a pipe dream now.

It’s like that old cliche: hurt people hurt people. Maybe if you were bravier—bitchier, even—you’d hurt him back. But for now, you’re too tired from dragging around the burden of your existence.

Hurt will have to wait another day.

—

[heartofjasmina]

Glorious

for @medusashima 's Live Deliciously collab <3

::

Toshinori always feels a twinge of embarrassment when he comes to your place. Your “place” being a hole drilled into the wall of one of the stalls of your buildings bathrooms, owned by David Shield. Dave was the first one to recommend you to him, simply calling you Zara, and saying she was the best at giving head.

“You mean she’s really good?” Toshi had asked, confused by the statement.

“No, buddy, I mean she’s the best. The best blowjob you’ll ever have.” Dave had hearts in his eyes as he spoke, and knowing how touched starved the scientist was (something they shared) made him hopeful.

He’d first stopped by in between missions. The only way he could get off with his amount of stamina and his size was with another person, as the collection of broken pocket pussies could show. The first time he’d felt you take his entire length down your throat he’d cum right then and there. You hadn’t gagged once and swallowed his seed with such hunger and need it made him hard all over again. When he collected himself, panting and heaving from the force of his orgasm, you pulled yourself off him with a lewd ‘pop’ that made him shiver. “Come back anytime, big guy. Your dick is a fucking masterpiece.”

Your voice was husky and low, probably from all the throat fuckings you’d taken throughout the night. It made him both aroused— and jealous if he was being honest with himself.

He was hooked.

He’d wake up from wet dreams of what it must be like to give you full access to his balls as well as his dick and after every mission he couldn’t but wonder, were you thinking of him the way he was thinking about you? More often than not he talked himself into making a “quick” stop at your place.

It became his only source of touch, beside the occasional one night stand with Dave where his friends ass swallowed his cock with an eagerness matched only by the man himself. As the number one hero, too many people assumed he didn’t need anything. No comforting pats on the back after hard missions. No hugs except from fans who were trying to cop a feel. Nothing. And he craved it. He craved touch so badly he felt suffocated by it sometimes.

One morning after a particularly depserate night with Dave he asked his friend as he was making them breakfast, “How did you meet her?”

“Zara?” Dave was looking through some notes on his current tech development and continued to answer without looking up. “She was a tenant, single, just wanted some company. But when I tried to date her, she refused. She said she had no need for a man beyond the occasional really nice dick to suck. Apparently it gets her off like nothing else. After a while she said she’d even suck a friend of mine if their dick was worth it.”

“Huh, and your first thought was me?” A sly smile was on his lips as he looked over his shoulder, and Dave grinned back.

“After having it inside me? Fuck yes. It would be selfish not to share you with a fellow size queen.” As if the answer was obvious, and that made Toshinori laugh so hard he burned the first of the pankcakes.

::

“Hey there big guy, long time no see.” He could see you smile through the hole, suddenly curious what your face looked like. Your lips were full and glistening with lipgloss that smelled faintly of vanilla.

But then you took his cock into your mouth and all ability to analyze melted away. You sucked him sloppy, moaning without a hint of shame, and with his super hearing he could easily detect the squelch of you fucking yourself.

“Dave said it gets you off, sucking dick.” It was the first time he had spoken when he was getting head from you, and he could feel you pause in fingering yourself.

“Name?” You pulled off his dick briefly, stopping the motion of your fingers inside you to ask your question breathleslly.

“Toshinori.” It came out as a whisper, and for the first time in a while he wondered when the last time was that he had someone to ask him his name.

“Toshi, then. When a dick is as pretty as yours, having it in my mouth is the most erotic thing. I love everything about it. The power in knowing I can make you weak in the knees with just my mouth, swallowing cum that proves I have you wrapped around my finger… Yeah. Sucking dick gets me off big time.” You breathed out and tapped the hole. “Now give me that beautiful dick of yours. I’m not done.”

“Yes, Zara.” He answered so sincerely it made your pussy ache to be filled with the dick in front of you.

Once more his glorious dick was fed through the hole, and you were once again in awe of just how perfect it was. Thick and flushed pink with shaved balls and a little tuft of blonde hair at its base.

You took your time the second time around, kissing his shaft’s head and licking up the precum that leaked from the slit. It made you smile on the inside to hear his breathing grow more and more uneven, the way you could see his thighs trembling slightly.

Only then did you take his full length down your throat again.

“Fuck me, my throat.” You whined as you stuffed your fingers inside your cunt again, the burning need for him only growing. “Need it— fuck I want it.”

Toshinori was beyond happy to give you what you needed, starting to fuck himself into your beautiful goddamn throat. It was better than any pussy he’d ever been inside. It only made him wonder what your pussy must be like, what you must be like.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum,” he warned as you took him all the way down and tongued his balls at the same time.

You hummed in approval and made no move to stop sucking him as usual, waiting patiently like the good girl you were for your treat.

The thing about Toshi’s loads is that they overwhelmed you. You had to scramble to swallow fast enough to take in the sheer amount of semen he dumped down your throat.

When he pulled out of your mouth you gasped for air, but you also felt your orgasm wash over you as you whined and slumped against the wall.

“That’s it, make your sweet little pussy feel good.” Toshinori couldn’t help but encourage you through it, wishing to hell there wasn’t a wall between you.

“Fuck, Toshi,” and damned if his name sounded better from your lips than anyone else. You finally let yourself relax only to be surprised by one last request.

“Let me taste.” You froze, questioning his seriousness, but then you saw his mouth opening like you always do for him.

Cunt burning, you stood and fed him your fingers drenched in your juices. His tongue greedily sought out every drop of your essence, sucking and licking your fingers clean.

FInally when he’d had his fill he pulled off your fingers, kissing your fingertips before standing and adjusting his pants.

“Until next time, Zara.” He murmured and you smiled to yourself.

“Till next time, Toshi.”

[thatlovelywitch]

𝙰𝙾𝚃 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙾𝚁 𝙰𝚄 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙲𝙾𝙿𝙴 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 2

✨Falco Grice's cheeks have never seen a day of rest since he joined the cast. They are everyone's personal squishie or stress ball and they're always red when he goes home

✨ Levi has another signature other than the iconic cut: kohl. No matter the fit, his eyes are kohled on the red carpet

✨ Levi and Hange did a hit psychological horror movie together as the main leads. Theatre was shook, Tiktok was shook, Theatre was shook and people watched it for.....the amazing plot (the plot was Hange in a lacy black bar and low rise jeans covered in blood and Levi in the shower)

✨ Sasha has taken singing/music lessons since she was a kid, so she has a beautiful voice and can play the electric guitar, acoustic guitar, piano and keyboard. She has a music career aside from acting, and her songs tend to go viral Tiktok for cute trends. Her music has Clairo or Mazzy Star vibes, but she also likes it a bit risque so expect some softer R&B Kehlani type beats too. She tends to forget a lot of her fans are kids though LOL apology statements have been released (left a lip stick mark on an adult male fan's shirt and humped the floor while there were kids in the audience chile)

✨ Armin is THE SWEETEST EVER to kid fans like kid fans are his favorite and it shows. He'll always doodle a heart or sumn when he signs an autograph and you bet he'll go all soft complimenting the kid's mini plushie of him or their little Survey Corps cape

"Aww look at your cape yknow little buddy I had one too but it's not as cool as yours"

✨ Historia and Ymir. NOBODY has deciphered to this day if they're besties or dating it's that confusing and they don't make it any easier to guess.

✨ Annie and Mikasa call each other "wifey" and people try and start like imaginary beef between them like 13 year olds with too much time lol and all the while they're gossiping at award shows and feeding each other pudding or having sleepovers

✨ Zeke is a swiftie and he was the most EMBARRASSING CELEB MEMBER IN THE CROWD 😭 my brotha was twerking during more sensual or hardcore songs and he was getting drunk back there

✨ Erwin is NEVER dodging Captain America allegations he's tried to deny the rumors of him replacing Chris Evans since 2013 to no avail

✨ Erwin is a girl dad who keeps his relationship with his wife very private but sometimes he shares pictures of his life as a married man. The fandom will never get over him in a pink wig

✨ Pieck is a pretty privilege Tiktok lipsync star and we love that for her

✨ Jean and Connie did the Buzzfeed thirst tweets video tgt

✨ "Dude listen I've been goin to the bathroom with him for a decade now and it's more of a pony than a horse"

"Istg if yo bald head don't-"

✨ Eren Yeager reposts bad mafia x y/n Tiktok POV's of him

✨ Eren calls his fans pookie

[oddballwriter]

Here for smut requ!!

Steven having a crush on shy reader n they go on a date and Marc coaches him on what to say and do cuz Steven is a bit nervous and he knows she likes his hands and him praising her and stuff but he doesn’t know how to go about but Marc does 😼

So when they make it to his apartment the once so gentle Steven became rough and dominant.

PLEASE INCLUDE OVERSTIM DIRTY TALK AND THE USAGE OF “good girl” IF UR COMFORTABLE WITH IT.

Thank u and if u don’t end up doing it sorry for wasting ur time.

Just Go with It

Summary: A very nervous date leads to going over to Steven's place. The both of you are very shy but with the help of Marc, Steven manages to get something started by talking to you and pouring a cup of tea.

Warnings: I didn't actually make smut from this, I'm sorry, but there is talk about the reader having a thing for Steven's hands and being flustered by compliments and praise from Steven. It's kind of a fade to black depending on how you want to look at it. 

Author’s Snip: I know that Anon asked for smut but I just couldn't find it in me to actually write some smut, so I did my best to make it a fade to black instead Also it's not fully what Anon asked but I don't really like the trope of the system swapping without the reader knowing that there even is a system. So yeah. I hope this is good enough.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,574

Steven isn't usually nervous or scared when entering into his own flat, but right now his nerves are all in power drive. After a nice date with you, that he had to have Marc coach him through because he didn't really know what to say or do, Steven, on his own, asked if you wanted to come back to his flat to have some tea and talk some more. Something that he has no idea how he managed to courage up saying when waiting for the bill to come back. And when you said yes, he tried to keep his cool and excused himself to go to the restroom, thankfully empty, to make himself more nervous about the possibilities of what might happen now.

"Why are you freaking out, Steven? You managed to do that on your own." Marc questions in the reflection of the mirror. "Because I didn't mean to open up a bloody can of worms, Marc! I just meant that as in actually talking and having a cup of tea!" Steven exclaims as he hides his red face in his hands. "Okay? Then just do that, buddy." Marc answers. "But what if she thought that I was secretly asking to hook up with her and she expects me to make a move at some point?" Steven whines. "Well, in that case, I'm sure she'll have a tell once you're there and if that happens then just go with it if you want," Marc suggests, "It's not that hard." he comments. Steven cringes at that last statement, "It's not that hard for you, mate. But it is for me. I've never gotten intimate with a person before.".

Marc sighs. "Steven, listen. This is your date. You managed to do pretty well on your own with a few pointers from me. I can only help you so much. But if it comes to maybe getting laid tonight, I can't really help you. I'm willing to bet that you don't want me in your ear while you're getting it. If you want, I can tell you if she's giving signs that she wants to go all the way but after that, it's all on you." Marc explains, giving his alter an offer and some extra help in the situation. "If she doesn't show off anything then you guys can just have your tea and talk or whatever." Marc says. Steven looks towards Marc and nods before taking a deep breath and leaving the bathroom to head back to his flat with you.

So now with a kettle on the stove, you and Steven sit on his sofa. "Dinner was nice." you comment, attempting to break the silence in the flat. Steven nods, embarrassed at the idea that he let an awkward silence brew, "Yeah. I found the restaurant a while back, I needed to do something else around there and when I came across it I was like "Oh would you look at that", you know?" Steven rambles before realizing that he was rambling. He also realizes that he's been fidgeting with his hands and immediately stops and folds them when he sees you looking at them, giving a whispered 'sorry'.

"No no, it's fine. I fidget with my hands too." you say as you look back down at them. "They look nice," you mutter under your breath, "They are?" Steven questions. You realize what you've said and backtrack, "I mean, you know, they just look very well maintained. Guys hardly take care of their hands and they sometimes look kinda ugly." you explain.

"Do they really look that nice?" Steven asks as he holds his hands out for the both of you to get a better look at them. You shyly take one of them and feel the skin with your thumb "Yeah." you say, "They feel really soft actually." you remark as you give the one you're holding a little squeeze. Upon looking closer you ask "You file your nails?". Steven, who was caught up in the fact that you were holding and feeling his hands, and thus he was feeling yours, snaps out of it and answers "Yeah, I do. I bite at the edges of them sometimes and so I file them so that they look better.", "It also helps to keep them short so that dirt doesn't get under them." he adds. "Well, they look very well kept." you comment timidly.

Steven nods as a thank you before hearing a 'psst' nearby. He looks towards the source and finds Marc looking at him from the reflection of his TV. Steven gives him a 'what' look. "She likes your hands." Marc points out. "Yes, I know." Steven responds in his head with a slight I'm-not-dumb tone. "No, Steven. She really likes your hands." Marc objects, "Maybe she wants you to do something with them?" Marc prompts with a tone that reads 'if you know what I mean'. Steven thinks about it before he notices that you're still holding and slightly feeling up his hands.

Steven tries to think of something to say or do in this situation, realizing that this might be going faster than he thought it would, but the sound of the kettle starting to whistle steals his attention before he can. With a quiet "Excuse me." and pulling his hands away, Steven gets up, takes the kettle off the stove, and grabs two mugs.

"Pour the tea in front of her. Give her a bit of a show." Marc suggests. "Shut up." Steven mumbles but freezes when you ask "Hm?" indicating that you slightly heard him, Steven recovers by saying "Sugar in your cup?" like he's repeating himself. You smile and say "Yes, a spoon, please." you request. Steven nods and pours a spoonful of sugar into your cup but takes the empty cups to the coffee table and actually does pour the tea in front of you like suggested.

Your eyes flicker between his hands that are on the kettle with a rag and Steven's face. You blush just a little, that would have gone unnoticed if Steven wasn't slightly expecting it. He pours his cup and walks back into the kitchen to leave the kettle. "I told you she'd like it." Marc says from the reflection of the kettle. Steven flashes him a look that radiates the words "Shut the hell up." before dropping it once he makes his way back to the sofa with you.

"You know I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight. I was surprised when you asked me out to dinner." you say as you gently swish around the tea in your cup to help the sugar mix as it dissolves. Steven raises his eyebrows for a bit in surprise at hearing that, "How come?" he asks. "Well..." you stammer, "You're very smart and polite, and handsome. I thought that you would have had someone already. Most guys like you are hard to come by nowadays and most have partners already. So I figure that you also had somebody already." you explain. Steven blushes at being called such attractive things. "Well then you would be surprised that I was both scared to ask you out to dinner and shocked that you said yes." Steven says, "I would have thought that such a beautiful and smart woman like yourself would already have someone or at least have many men trying to ask you out all the time." Steven claims.

"Seems like you got lucky then." you giggle as you blush at the idea that Steven, the man that you've been crushing on for a long time, was saying that he expected to have competition when asking you out. In the meantime, Marc makes a suggestion, "Keep going, Steven, she seems to like it.". Steven nods and does his best to do that. "I mean it. I really do." Steven says, "You really are a rare one. I'm happy you agreed to go out with me.". You sigh and hide your burning red face, "Stop. I don't think I can handle getting any redder." you beg. Steven scoots towards you on the sofa and gently takes your hands away from your face so that he can see you. "I really like your face, in any color it may be in." Steven says as he looks into your eyes, now staring back at him.

A second passes by the two of you while you softly stare at each other, it feels longer, but in a pleasant way. Steven could feel that Marc was going to say something again, but he didn't want to hear it and just did what he figured he was going to suggest. He leans in more and kisses you on the lips, with you flinching just a little before kissing him back.

The kiss is gentle and sweet, but there is a little bit of something in it between the both of you. When Steven pulls away, he notices that your hand is placed on his shoulder with your thumb timidly placed on the base of his neck like you were originally going to keep him pulled in. Steven smiles a bit at the idea and looks towards you, but you are leaning in yourself and manage to press a kiss on his jaw. The soft kisses continue from there and Steven feels less nervous about things possibly going farther tonight and he can sense that you are too.

[starplusfourletters]

I finally finished the last command

and it was a romp (spoilers)

Chewie spends the whole book on the edge of a nervous breakdown but buddy you very much did that to yourself. Sure, you swear a life debt to a guy who turns out to be One of the People in the Galaxy That Things Just Keep Happening To. Bad luck, bound to happen sometimes. But then you decide that life debt extends to his wife knowing FULL WELL that Even More Things Just Keep Happening to HER, and then they go and have TWINS? That’s on you, bud.

Mara “I still do want revenge on Luke Skywalker yes definitely now hold that thought I need to go risk my life to save Leia and the twins” Jade. Mara you’re embarrassing yourself.

Actual conversation:

Leia: Thanks again for saving my life. Mara: Don’t thank me until after I’ve killed Luke which I still absolutely want to do. Leia: So uhhh why’d you do it? Mara: I’m just opposed to kidnapping. Leia: Were you kidnapped? Mara: I dOn’T wAnT tO tAlK aBoUt iT yes. Leia: ... Mara: YOU THINK THIS IS ABOUT MY TROUBLED PAST?? Leia: … Mara: BECAUSE IT’S NOT Leia: … Mara: Anyway here’s the information only I can provide that will turn the tide of the war. It’s free. Friends and family discount. Leia: Thanks. Mara: I’M STILL GOING TO KILL YOUR BROTHER Leia: That’s nice, dear.

MY KINGDOM FOR GHENT. His dad boss forgets to pick him up from AV Club so he spends two months wandering unrestricted through the capital building and then cracks Enigma because he’s bored

A TWELVE-DAY Character Bonding Hiking Trip??!? Zahn’s really outdone himself this time

WAIT THIS WHOLE TIME MARA DIDN’T KNOW LUKE AND VADER ARE RELATED?? Omigod that’s HILARIOUS. I mean, yeah, I guess it just never came up? And she didn’t watch the OT movies? That’s very funny to me for some reason. I definitely assumed she’d gotten that memo

Oh man it really feels like I should have seen that reveal coming and I absolutely did not. Gawd I love the 90s. Wowowowowowow. Chef’s kiss. I have so many questions about the Bespin janitorial system

“LUUKE” I’m dying

Admiral “It appears to be a trap.” Akbar

We interrupt your regularly scheduled Good vs. Evil Star Wars content to bring you “the two Evil factions getting in each other’s way vs the two Good factions getting in each other’s way until they all realize we’ve hit the end of the book and just start attacking everything indiscriminately”

The Climactic Battle Scene:

Luke: Fighting his clone! Han: Pew pew pew pew! Mara: Psychic defense! Psychic attack! Leia: Dual wielding blaster and lightsaber! Karrde: In the back, petting his doggos and talking on his phone I was legit worried about his safety in this book. But he's not dumb; he knows he doesn't have enough plot armor to take on the Big Bad. He is simply the best there is

Wedge / Aves is the rarepair I didn’t know I needed

RUKH!!

Oh thank God the doggos are okay

So as far as I can tell Thrawn made one mistake that wasn’t just bad luck and it was doing a shit job of getting Mara out of the way. The dude really should have had MORE of his enemies killed

Thesis statement: Aww Themb! <3

Now I just need to watch someone explain this series to Ep9-era Palpatine. Preferably in the style of Worthikids.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Where can i read Both sides now? If i click the link in the old post you reblogged i cannot find the post :(

Alas, stupid deactivated links. Here, I shall post it anew for you 💋

Sweet like Cinnamon

Warnings and Summary: the entire theme of this is loving on Elvis’ chief embarrassment: his uncut cock. So, be warned, ahead lies body consciousness, savoring of foreskins, edging, talking to cocks, Elvis in subspace and bad safe word etiquette 😆 also suspend your belief that he didn’t get past this with multiple women before in the 60’s

Repost of an old fic

“Gentle now, no need to thump it, it ain’t got a spirit you can animate by kickin’ it like that.”

Susie huffs at him and aims another whack at the motorcycle’s exposed engine with her dainty hand, like she can slap it into submission. “Well then you try!” she whines at him and Elvis woulda done so first if she hadn’t beat him to it. After that he’d gotten distracted by watching the way her bottom looked in those jeans while she was bent double.

“I’ll do just that if you’d get up and stop thumpin’ it.”

“I am not ‘thumping it’, Presley, merely cajoling.” she points her little chin in the air haughtily and Elvis is filled with the desire to grab it between his fingers and shake it. She’d wrinkle her nose at that and all the little freckles on it would fold up.

“Mhmm, well, get outta the way Susie, let the ole man have a shot at it.”

“Good luck.” she grins and moves to stand up and he watches a little too long as she hikes her jeans back up so her tied shirt meets the top of them. He mourns the loss of that sliver of skin and bends down to take a look himself, conscious of her eyes on his ass.

They’re fair like that, Susie and him, he doesn’t watch nothin’ on her that he hasn’t let her watch on him. That’s what good buddies do, they don’t begrudge a mate. So he doesn’t begrudge her much when after getting the offending part off he feels the pointed toe of her shoe slide against the seam of his pants. It gets boring stranded on the side of a country road in the middle of the Californian desert, and little girls need their fun.

“Almost done,” he tells her, “this just came loose, s’why it’s rattlin’ like that. Didn’t help that somebody smacked, too.” he looks up at her out of the corner of his eye, making sure to layer on the patronizing airs so that she’ll break and smack him. She does, lightly on his shoulder and he chuckles and ignores the way the gravel digs into his knees and chalks up his slacks.

“We’re going be late.” she observes, and it’s not a whine, it’s just statement.

“Thought your landlady didn’t know we were comin’?” he grunts, working on the obvious problem he can perceive now, scorching his fingers on the hot metal.

“Careful!” she fusses as he hisses from the burn, rising to his feet and brushing off his slacks, readying to try cranking the motor again.

“You know what I meant,” Susie goes on, admiring him as he swings those long legs to straddle the bike, elegantly swathed as they are in pants tailored to the last inch by darling Edith, “This has thrown us off by an hour and knowing you and your propensities when in the company of little old ladies -we’ll be late at the studio. I’m calling it now.”

His face clouds over for a moment as he ponders the prospect of getting chewed out by the director for taking a brief and condoned break. Just to zip over and wish Susie’s landlady a happy birthday. The shriveled little munchkin was starry eyed the one time he swung by to pick Susie up, and with her son overseas it seemed the nice and gentlemanly thing to do, to use the break to brighten her day. The motorbike breaking down on the side of the road wasn’t part of the plan.

“I ain’t turnin’ back now,” he mutters, frowning at the horizon that wavers in the scorching afternoon sun, “They’ll find somethin’ to bitch about anyway, and you needed the break. Say, you alright with that? With playin’ hooky? I’ll tell ‘em it was my idea.”

“Oh hush now, ‘course I don’t mind and I’ll take full responsibility for myself, Presley.”

They both know he’ll get in between her and anyone trying to chew her out but she tries, really tries to take some of the brunt of the condemnation directed at them when they go off the rails together, lost in their own little world. One where midnight dancing, helicopter racing and practical jokes are king.

She cozies up behind him on the narrow seat, her thighs bracketing his famous hips and the bike cranks to life. They make it to Doddi’s birthday party before it’s in full swing. Susie spends the next hour and a half on Elvis’ knee as he chats with her landlady who informs him she had her son, the one overseas, at the ripe age of fifty five.

“Well I’ll be!” he whistles and that starts a very earnest discussion about modern medicine and the wacky new advice to cut back on fats. Doddi is adamantly against it, as is Elvis. Susie gets her opinion asked after awhile and she informs them that whatever they’re both doing now is obviously working for them. That earns her a ticklish kiss on the neck from Elvis and a sage smile from Doddi.

“You know something, Miss Dean,” Doddi addresses Susie, “I have seen you starring in three films alongside this man.”

“Yes ma’am!” Susie nods, they've got dynamite chemistry and Hollywood isn’t one to let a thing rest until it’s dead from overuse. As for Elvis and herself, well, contracts are contracts and just maybe they’d rather kill their careers alongside each other, out of anyone else in the world.

“And in each one,” Doddi goes on, “you begin as an innocent until finally succumbing. It’s a testament to your skill that you can begin again, three times at that, as a virgin with each new start, when you must have been plundered at some point in real life.”

Elvis had said something equally insightful to her ages ago, something about her doe eyes and gentle face making him feel like the first time each time. Each time they do a scene, of course. Because they’re just buddies. No matter if her real first time was with him. And a good costar is meant to make you feel some kind of way so that you can play off it. It’s just good sportsmanship.

Elvis pats her on the back as she chokes on her mimosa, unable to take Doddi’s inquiring gaze for much longer, seems she’s asking as to when Susie herself got plundered and it’s a memory best left buried. Blessedly, Elvis changes the subject with his typical, stuttering charm.

Drifting on a wholesome high, they slip out together, a good three hours and multiple slices of cake later. He’s pensive on the drive back, speed limit actually being observed and Susie lays her cheek on his shoulder to watch the thoughts flit along his nobel profile.

“What’s wrong, Mopey?” she asks him.

“Nothin’, jus thinkin’.”

Gloomy thoughts by the set of his pouty lips. “Well I want some breeze to help with this heat, so gun it, Presley.”

Those lush lips curve up at that, his shoulders shaking out his mood a little as a rivulet of water the folks around here call a creek comes into view. He doesn’t take the bridge over it, he plunges the motorbike down the bank with Susie shrieking out her joy behind him, gripping his belly for dear life as the motor fights to get them back up the opposite side without tipping them backwards.

It’s damn good fun. Pity their director doesn’t agree when they get back wet and a little muddy, hours late. Filming has been canceled for the evening, and choice words are had about tardiness and Susie’s poor delivery of a inane line of script she hates with a passion.

Elvis takes all of this with dogged sullenness, only biting back when Susie’s name gets drug through the mud. She succeeds at hauling him away and up into his suite, badgering him about helping her with the line.

They’ll end up eating too much hotel food and philosophizing on the how each subsequent film they’ve made has diminished in artistic quality. If they really feel brave maybe they’ll end up kissing, just for practice, just because they’re lonely and the other understands. And won’t hold them to it.

This time he disappears into the shower, a quicker one than usual and when he comes out in nothing but a towel, swearing over having forgotten his clothes, he looks like the proverbial stormcloud is hanging over his wet and sleeked back hair. Susie has got burgers and cola at hand on the bed and is ready for the mood to be over. She’s worn out, too.

“What are you so sore about Presley?” she asks, gently because he might as well have a sign hanging around his neck reading: “fragile! handle with care!”

“You wanna know what it is?” He grunts, rubbing at his face, rosy and gleaming from the shower.

“Yes!”

“I’ll tell ya honey, I’ll tell ya. It’s that I had a grand time with you today and yet I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how if we would just stop foolin’ around then-“

“-hey now, it was your idea to fool around!” she protests.

“-I know I know, but as I was sayin’ I was preoccupied with the thought that I just wanted to get the next damned scene over with.”

“The one scheduled for tomorrow now?”

“Yeah that one. Another windshield scene.”

“Another what?”

“Windshield scene, honey.” he insists, a little hurt she didn’t get his meaning right away, it was the thing digging at him for awhile now, making him sore. “You knew how many scenes I’ve done where they’ve got a camera on the hood shootin’ through the windshield, while I’m sitting in the driver’s seat pretendin’ to drive while a screen flashes scenery behind me, and I sing a song that sounds a lot like the ones I’ve sang doing the same damn thing in the same damn movie before it? And I’m talkin’ just movies since I been back stateside.”

“Quite a few I gather.” Susie’s mouth sours in sympathy. “So, New Years resolution, no more windshield scenes.”

“Add jet-skies to that list.” he flops back on the bed and blows out a breath, making his lips flap with all the dignity of a five year old.

Susie has long since learned to humor him when he’s in this sort of mood and she contents herself with leaning against the wall and watching the long line of his body, bronze and sturdy and interrupted only by the stark white towel around his waist. He manspreads even in a towel and she is tempted to take a peak. She’d probably get spanked for it and tonight she’s unsure it would be a jovial slapping around, he’s testy and nearly looking for an excuse to blow up. Or pout face first into his pillow until he gets hungry -he’s shockingly petulant for a man dually capable of the occasional bout of astounding maturity.

“Eat your burger.” she nudges his bare foot and the feel of her shoe against his skin gets him to raise his head and give her a once over.

“Get comfy honey, you don’t need to be all in your heels and such.”

“Well, i wasn’t sure you really felt like having me stay.”

“Don’t be silly, lil girl.” he rolls his eyes, and sits up, abs rippling and scrunching as he hunches into himself and starts gnawing down on the burger. “This ain’t cooked enough.”

“You weren’t cooked long enough.” Susie tosses back and takes a seat next to him on the foot of the immaculately made bed, kicking her shoes off, and she doesn’t miss the way a pleased smile creeps over his face. He puts the burger up to her mouth and looks so expectant that she takes a bite and lets the mustard and onions and beef ruin the spearmint aftertaste of her gum. “It’s cooked perfectly.” she admonishes him and he sneers at her though his eyes twinkle. “Alright mopey! Nothing else for it, I’m putting on a record.”

Susie abandons him and he watches as she bounces up and across his sterile hotel room to the one comfort he hauled with him, the record player and its case of records. She flips through it until she pulls out the man she commits infidelity against Elvis in her heart with, night after night. Sam Cooke.

She messes with the needle. “Ooh you’ve stopped it at ‘Only Sixteen’ -you thinking about me when all alone, Mopey?” She grins at him so sly and knowingly that he rolls his eyes, and actor though he is he, he can’t feign indifference. “Thinking about sweet little me and how you came in and bamboozled me? Had your naughty, naughty way with me?”

“Don’t remind me!” he groans and flops back on the bed, half eaten burger in hand. “That weren’t my most upright behavior but I was left contendin’ against the sight of your pretty butt in those frilly little swim shorts and I-“

“-couldn’t help yourself?” Susie recites from her stance between his splayed legs, her hands planted on her hips and he really does adore the way she looks when she’s fed up with him. Her face puckers up and she looks at him determinedly, like he’s a project and she’s a contractor. Like he’s some human sofa she’s gonna refurbish or somethin’. Sends a little shudder through him and he braces for what she says next because he feels it comin’ before those red lips start moving, he just knows her that well by now. “I didn’t mind it Elvis, you were a bit boorish about it but look at us now, we’re the best of friends ever since-“

“-damn funny way to make friends.” he scrubs his face and tries to get rid of the mental picture of baby fresh Susie with her cheek pressed to the janitor closet’s door, and the feel of those frilly swimsuit panties shoved to the side and scraping him as he buried himself in her again and again.

“I guess I more wonder why we haven’t done it again.” she honest to god pouts down at him, half a decade worth of platonic hanky panky wearing her down.

“What!” he sits up with an ungainly flail and Susie relishes the way his pupils blow out and his eyebrow quirks in indignation as if he hasn't stared at her with intent written all over his face, day after day, for the last five years since. “What, hang on now Susie, we’re buddies you and I,” he gestures back and forth between them, his hand knocking against her belly as she towers over him for once, “we’re buddies.” he repeats as if he didn’t have his head buried beneath her skirt two nights ago. That’s apparently on the list of things buddies do for each other.

“Buddies can make sweet love too, Presley.” she teases.

“Sure-“

“And grindin’ and lickin’ and jerkin’ off to the thought of me does not give you the moral high ground here.”

“How did you know-“ he looks comically appalled and it’s too adorable a look on a grown man.

“You’re loud as hell, Elvis.” she giggles and he grips her hips and hauls her down to do -well, he’s not sure what he intended, he just feels like wrestling her and she obliges, probably had planned to trick him into this after all.

Her legs flail and she’s liberal with the elbows against his ribs and he grunts and huffs and slaps at her hands and let’s her wriggle enough to keep it fun, and this is why he loves her, she loves rough housing, she loves curling up with a book and she forgives him for a whole load of horseshit he’s put her through. Susie is a woman for all seasons and he loves her in a way, grappling with her on the fresh made bed as Sam Cooke croons:

She was only sixteen

Only sixteen

With eyes that would glow

But she was too young to fall in love

And I was too young to know

Woaaah

She was only sixteen

He gets her pinned beneath him and he leans his forehead against her forehead and gives her a heart melting smile that she savors through nearly crossed eyes. He slowly lowers the rest of himself to lay against her and they give into what they’ve been longing to do, lips meeting as they savor each other, ignoring the lasting taste of the burger and indulging in soothing each other with eager presses of kisses and long, slow licks with hands that cling to each other. He starts to grind against her through his towel, her jeans making him slide roughly. That makes her pull away with a huff, and it’s not her usual pleasurable huffing. Elvis can tell she’s peeved before he can even pull back far enough to get a good look at her exasperated face.

“Why is this teenage fooling all we do?” she huffs.

“Well, Lord honey, if that’s how ya feel-“ he gripes and starts to slither down between her legs, ready to prove her a brat, and maybe torture her a bit. Death by orgasm. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“No, no.” She kicks and rolls away from him in a move he vaguely recognizes as from the “My baby is a swanky cat” choreography. “Nope, Mopey, tonight is gonna be about you.”

“About me?” he deadpans.

“Yup.” She nods and her hands are back on her hips and she’s back to eyeing him up like a plot of land freshly leveled for a subdivisions construction. “But first dance with me!”

She grabs at him and suddenly they’re in the middle of a vigorous and precarious dance off atop the mattress. Sheets and soft down cause two of hollywoods most sought after groovers to fall all over themselves and each other, hands clasped in a good Spanish pose, arms stiff and bracketing each other.

Everybody loves to cha cha cha

Little children like to cha cha cha

The cha cha cha

My baby couldn’t do the cha cha cha

Elvis forgets the renovating gleam in her eye and those unspoken refurbishing plans for a hot minute while watching Miss Susie Dean as Susie goes

I told her one, two

Cha cha cha

And one, two

Cha cha cha

And up now

Cha cha cha

And baby back now

Cha cha cha

And turn now, cross now! Oooh

I taught my baby to cha cha cha

Hearing Elvis sing along to someone else’s music is an entirely special experience Susie thinks more people ought to get the chance to watch, but some jealous and longing part of her is thrilled she’s one of few who’ll ever see Elvis belting out to Cooke while a boyish smile takes over his face, and his hips wiggle atop his swanky hotel bed in nothing but a resilient white towel. She grips his forearms harder and fully unleashes the little girl locked deep inside her. The one who misses goofing around and who only seems to thrive in the company of this very seductive, very goofy angel of a man. His grunts and groans and moans and trills shiver right through her and she longs for him, worse than most nights.

He executes and guides her in the cha cha steps perfectly, even as their bodies wobble towards the bedside lamp and then towards the TV set, a broken leg always in the cards with one snag or trip in the sheets. That would delay the windshield scene for him.

It’s that melancholy thought that has her swaying up closer to him and holding his hips comfortingly as the record turns and

I love, love, love you

For sentimental reasons..

The way men wrap towels round their hips and flip them over and over into indestructible loin clothes has long puzzled Susie, but she loves watching the way the dark trail of hair on his belly disappears beneath the white terry cloth, and how the v of his hips rolls and pumps his pelvis into the air in a mindless sort of entrancement. As if hypnotized she leans her head against his chest and looks down at him from above, perceiving the outline of him, that part of him that’s been inside her once but she’s never actually seen. She trails a finger down his chest, pink fingernails scraping lightly and trailing down to the towel and hooking inside, tugging a tiny bit, just to test the durability of that fold.

“Susie.” he murmurs warningly and she’s tired of that and not a little hurt at how he rebuffs her offers again and again.

“I’m a woman now, you do realize that don’t you? And I’ve got womanly tastes. Just want to make you feel good, Mopey.” she speaks earnestly into his chest.

“Thumper, you know I prefer lovin’ on you-“

“Is it so hard for you to imagine then, that I might want to love on you the same way?” She lifts those dark and perfectly lined eyes to his beseechingly and gah, it makes it worse than anything for him to deny her again.

“I-I-I’ll m-make love t-t-to ya t-tonight, if if that’s what you- you want-“

“Oh good lord,” she throws her hands up in the air, “you’re so thrilled at the prospect your tone sounds like you just got assigned latreen duty!” she gesticulates some more and nearly wobbles off the bed doing so. He grabs at her and saves them both, but his towel is a casualty.

He clutches her close to him standing on the mattress, and she’s surprised by that, the way there’s panic on his face and how he seems to plaster the naked length of himself against her clothed form, as if he’s safer that way. Gone is the Elvis who loves to joke off an embarrassing or saucy moment, Elvis who shoots her a dirty wink when she feels him growing beneath her during a steamy take. Gone is ole Mopey who, as a grown ass man, still refers to his cock as “little Elvis.”

Speaking of, she can feel the chubby length of him against her belly and she goes to grab ahold of him, maybe she’ll squeeze him a bit and lead him around by it like the petulant puppy he is. She can’t fully enact her plan as only part way down he arrests her movements with a gentle but inflexible grip around her wrist, hauling it back up between their chests.

“Elvis, what on earth is wrong?” she cries out, craning her neck to look him dead in the eyes and resolve his jumpiness over her touching him bare, once and for all. For a smug ‘lady killer’ he sure does act like a shy boy when a gal makes a move herself. “Are you sick?” she whispers as the thought strikes her suddenly that maybe he went a little hog wild with a couple hundred willing fans in the early days…

“What?” his eyebrows shoot up, “what? Hell naw, Susie I-I-I there never was a good time to say this but I just. I never wanted to disappoint ya-“

“Oh! Are you one of those baby Bella mushroom sizes?” Susie hasn’t had personal experience with a tiny knob but has always thought it might be fun to work one in her mouth. It’s an idiotic thought to apply to him the moment she gives it a second thought; she had felt him when he first met her and took her in the janitor’s closet. He felt mighty big then. She had been nearly a virgin but still, it felt big. That couldn’t be it…

“S-Susie.” he stutters real bad and she can feel his hands flexing against her upper arms, kneading the soft flesh in his anxiety, “it’s silly really but I just- it’s that…” his eyes pinch closed and he takes a deep breath before blurting out on the exhale, “I ain’t cut, Susie.”

Cut. She thinks of the director yelling “cut” at the end of countless scenes. She thinks of the barbed wire he hopped over the other day that sliced him real good on the hand. Cut. What the- oh. Uncut. He’s got an uncut cock. Her mouth dries out before it floods again in anticipation and she can feel her eyelids growing heavy as she yearns. Yearns for him badly and it’s no artifice when she licks her lips, trying to formulate a sentence that won’t make her sound half feral. As if he wasn’t alluring enough, now there’s this, and tonight is the night she’s going to have her way. She’ll devour him for once and make him let go of that obnoxious grip he has on every aspect of his life from how his burgers are cooked to how all sexual encounters go.

“-nice little girl like you probably-“ Meanwhile, Elvis is adding some stupid and defensive commentary to her youthful crisis, “-mama couldn’t really afford-“ as she thinks about and processes how this impossibly smug and suave cool cat has a hillbilly cock. And she wants it in her mouth, down her throat, nibbled to a angry, cherry red until he realizes she couldn’t care less that he isn’t like every dime a dozen heartthrob here in the city of angels. Actually she does care, she cares immensely, so much she’s gonna wreck him to prove it.

“Oh god.” Is all she manages initially and her voice sounds utterly fucked out even to her own ears. That gets him to stop his dumb monologue on how he’s more than happy just to mess around in other ways, and he’d never expect her to deal with that. “Oh god.” she moans into his mouth as she seizes the back of his head and brings him to meet her lips again, his stunned eyes still wide and blue and open. And little Elvis is beginning to grow brave and firm up, poking a little at her belly.

It’s not a joke as her knees begin to buckle and she lands on them with a hard bounce, a puddle at his feet, sheets crumpled beneath her knees. Dumbly she stares in reverence as she is finally face to face with him and -oh god, he’s exquisite and unmaimed and his initially unimpressive size is swelling into much more before her very eyes. It’s like watching the primal proof of his attraction grow beneath her heated stare. She places her hands lightly on those strong hips of his, holding him close and savoring the way she can feel the muscle flex beneath her palms. He’s so sturdy and she adores that about him.

The fact that he’d have rather hidden this from her, her! who he admits all sorts of shit to, who he’s cried on innumerable times, his Thumper, his ungentlemanly mistake turned bosom friend. It makes her vengeful almost, not towards him but the image of him. She feels a wave of anger for him and all the glitzy weight that’s rained down on him since he first caught the eye of the sleek and shiny machine. Forever unable to just be. Always in need of a touch up or a rewrite, a second take. Tonight is going to be impromptu, even if she has to bully him into it.

Sweet Susie is taking this vulgar aspect of him better than Elvis had anticipated. In some ways, that is. In others she’s acting batshit insane, looking like a fever has gotten to her, eyes gone glassy and then there’s the way she just slumped down the length of him and is now in a staring contest with little Elvis. It’s, well, it’s a lot for a man to shrug off, particularly when he likes and respects Miss Susie as much as he does. When he would like to be at his best for her and is severely lacking in the basics of that.

“We meet at last!” he hears her whisper down there to little Elvis, and it’s so goddamn weird yet she looks so hungry that he’s spooked by it. The spike of fear rips down his spine and his hardening cock jerks in response because he’s a twisted bastard.

She presses a kiss to the angry vein running along the underside and his own knees buckle at that. He grabs at her hair for some steadying balance, careful to not dislodge the pretty pink bow still holding her dark locks in a windswept bouffant.

“Yeah. You’d better sit down for this, partner.” She grins up at him from down there, teasing his accent.

“Susie-“

“Nope, this is happening.” she’s back in renovating mode and his chest feels a little tight and he’s not sure what he’s so scared about anyway, it’s just Thumper. Maybe it’s because it is Thumper that he’s so queasy about it. She’s a tomboy sure, but she’s always so put together, dainty and proper even in improper scenarios, she deserves the best and hell! -he’s pretty sure her parents are devout Catholics.

He lets his legs give out and he flops on his back, legs spread and a defiant look on his face, daring her to admit she’d rather not. But she doesn’t even look at his eyes, she just blows him an air kiss and then she's back to making conversation with his cock and Elvis wants to die or go back to eating his burger. Or her pussy, that would be nice -but no, Thumper is a stiff necked mule of a girl.

She gets down on her belly between his legs and props up on her elbows, nose close to touching him, “You’re as tanned as the rest of him!” she coos to it and it wobbles appreciatively, the length finally swelling enough to hold itself upright.

Elvis is turned on enough to get stiff but disconcerted and untouched as he is, it’s a slow process. He can’t remember the last time he watched it take its sweet time to get up. “Has he been sunbathing you, too? What a vain bastard! All golden and gleaming, even his pretty cock is all tanned. Does he spread suntan oil on you too? Does he forget himself and start jerking you off? Lord, has he ever burnt you like the silly, forgetful boy he is?”

The feeling of her breath huffing over him and her blatant ignoring of the rest of him is working way too well. Pretty in reference to his hillbilly cock is a goddamn lie but still, Elvis hates that she knows him this well, and he hears himself make a funny noise as she gossips about him to his own cock. “I’m gonna call you Coco, alright?” she makes this pact with little Elvis, reaching out to touch him for the first time, gripping him steadily and Elvis forgets for an second that “Coco” belongs to him, nothing is there to remind him he isn’t floating off the goddamn bed, leaving only his cock with Susie to discuss and tease his vanity and silly inhibitions.

This funky dream state gets jarred when she slides her hand up catching the fucking foreskin and begins to pull it back, farther and farther as it ought to go if his weren’t so tight and fucking weird.

“Ouch!” he hollers, fully back to earth and starts to pull away from her attentions, but she looks so grieved by that he reconsiders and takes a steadying breath before explaining, “It hurts to pull it back too far, very far at all, actually.” he admits, apologetic because that would get the wrinkly shit out of her way at least, but she doesn’t bat an eye. She just keeps looking at that swelling part of him with heavy lidded eyes, false lashes fluttering wildly at the corners, making her look like a love drunk animation. He’s seen girls look at his face this way but Susie hasn’t met his eye in a good 60 seconds or more.

“Aha right then.” she gives a vigorous nod, “Let me know things like that, I wanna know what it is you like.”

He doesn’t really know what he likes, beyond his own hand and grinding and being inside a woman. He’s never had someone have their tongue nearly loll out of their perfectly painted lips at the prospect of licking at him: not once they see what they’re dealing with. Usually this is when the lady politely glances away, maybe lays back, suggests a change of pace, a slight adjustment in the script. Those are the ones who aren’t revolted. Once he’s inside a dame, they tend to forget he’s a hick child from Tupelo, or at least they forget the more unseemly, economic realities of that, of being too poor to get trimmed up like all his fellows. Just another thing to make him set apart -odd. But Susie now, Susie’s an oddity like him and as he watches her lick her lips and stare little Elvis down, he’s uncertain he’s actually comfortable with this much devotion coming out of someone who oughta be getting worshiped by him.

She’s still eyeing him up, hungry as ever, and Elvis starts to wonder if he’s got it in him to handle this, if he might have got a freak on his hands.

This thought process comes to a halt as she does the unthinkable, bringing her hand around him and smoothing the skin forward, up and up until it is fully stretched out and only a round little disk of his pink head and his weeping hole is visible. And then he watches as if in slowed time as she takes him in her mouth just like that, her insistent suction tugging the skin further into its natural state, a state long denied it when in this context and Elvis is very much afraid that if he were a woman the sound he just made would be classified as a shriek.

She politely ignores his hollering and drags her tongue around his puffy head, flattening it suddenly like some goddamn gecko, slithering it inside the hood to lick round his pink glans and it’s, well, -it’s too much of a new thing to feel at 30 somethin’ years old and his knee jerk reaction is to plant his foot on her shoulder and shove her off.

She catapults backwards from his shove, back crashing into the TV while wearing an unphased Cheshire Cat smile. He tries not to sob from the sheer amount of feelings he is feeling about it all, his hands coming up to cover his face.

Poor Susie, poor him. Goddamn it all..

He knows if he tries to talk now it’ll be nothing but stuttering gibberish so he waits for her to come and sit beside him on the bed, hands gently petting his shoulders and raking through his tidy hair, pressing soothing kisses to what parts of his face she can reach through his hands.

“Hey, hey Mopey, you’re alright.” she coos and he thinks about shrugging her off for a minute, his pride a little hurt but he never was much good at shrugging off a comforting woman, not since mamas been gone, so he pulls his hands from his face and wraps his arms around Susie’s middle, catching his breath with his head cradled in her lap. “This is why I love an uncut man, so, so sensitive, aren’t you? I’ll be gentler.”

“No one’s ever done that weird ass tongue wriggling thing you just did.” he tries to justify the fact he threw her across the room. “Did I hurt you? You ok? -Wait!,” he sits up suddenly and his mind is whirring from putting puzzle pieces together, “you’ve done this before w-with some, some o-o-other man?”

“Yeah.” she gives him a soft grin, hand rising to his face and her long fingernails scratch at his sideburns like he’s a cat that can be pacified. Maybe he is, for her he’s close to purring.

“When?“ he demands, feeling very fatherly or some such shit. He wants to kick some ass.

“Remember that movie I shot in the Italian Riviera?”

“You were playing some Roman empress or somethin’, right?”

“Yes, that one,” she smiles dreamily, “well, the Italian producer took a shine to me. And you know that most Europeans aren’t cut either.”

“Really?” he pulls a funny face, mouth folding down dubiously, disgust at the thought of some wrinkly Italian having touched his Susie warring with the fact little Susie compares Elvis and his hick embarrassment to some exotic mogul. “And you liked that shit?”

“Oh I prefer it! So responsive!” she nods eagerly, and they’ve had this same talk about pistachio ice cream before, and Elvis really thinks he might go to hell for having been the one to put that hungry gleam in her eye. Over cock. His cock. A sort of vicarious damnation

“Damn right about the ‘responsive’ bit.” he grumbles.

“Now,” she is back to business and Elvis is back to being scared and horny, their brief cuddle session apparently at an end, “I’ll be sure to be gentler and ease you into it, maybe even give you a word to tap out if it gets to be too much. But you, you’ve gotta promise me that if you really want to explore this, you’ll be good and not throw me again.”

“I-“ -he ponders that and long buried memories of highschool jokes, cameras in the milltary barracks and snide comments from costume designers crowd in, the stupid patheticness of a man of his success and worldly confidence having trouble with this-

“You man enough, Presley?” Susie’s sprightly little dare cuts right through the static of his mind and the truth of the matter is, deep down, he wants her to thump him like she thumps his bike. Make him like it, force him to let go for once. But like hell can he actually manage to say that to her doll-like face. “Or are you gonna be a little bitch about getting your cock sucked?”

Alright maybe he can.

Susie is all woman in this moment and he realizes his little girl has grown up, she’s grown up watching him, learning him, and now she knows him too damn well. He loves a challenge and put that way…”You’re on.” he grins at her dangerously and she tries to keep her triumph subdued, just a little bounce back on her heels and a fierce kiss pressed to his lips.

“Thank you!” she whispers against his lips, eyes up close to his and he can see they are very giddy before she finally pulls away from him, pushing at his shoulders until he’s laying out all vulnerable again in the crisp sheets.

Bemused, he watches Susie bite at two manicured nails as she takes his submission in. They’re the prettiest shade of pink and he’s been trying to find the right name for it since filming began. Elvis asked her over lunch one afternoon and she said she didn't know, the makeup artist had chosen it. All he’s come up with is “nipple pink” -and that didn’t do him any favors sitting in the canteen in tight slacks, watching her Bambi soft eyes go wide when he actually said it out loud.

Now she gnaws on them while sizing up plans of torture for poor “Coco” and he grabs the sheets in his hands as a defensive measure.

“You ever been edged, Mopey?” she asks him.

“Not, not like this, nah. Not this way” he shakes his head, sucks in a breath, deciding to pull his legs up and plant his feet on the mattress, feeling a little steadier that way, “I mean, I’ve held off for a couple hours before, in between rounds or, ya know-“ he trails off because, no, he’s never done this, whatever this is that she has planned. He is sure of it without even knowing..

“Ok.” she gives him a sweet smile, “Well I’m going to be nice about it, so you’re lucky, but if it gets to be too much let’s have a word or phrase. Because we both know that your whiny little “no’s” don’t mean anything in the heat of the moment.”

He grunts and quirks an eyebrow to urge her to go on.

“So,” her tone is entirely fake in its soothing, “so if you just can’t stand being loved on without getting all macho and taking control, all you gotta say is ‘I’m a pussy’, ok?”

Oh goddamn. What a brat. He growls at her and thinks about flipping her up and over, having his way with her until she can’t form a coherent sentence. But that would just prove her point and this is a competition now, not just sex. The stakes are as high as the time she almost beat him at the corn toss last year. “Ok.” he grits out.

“Good boy.” she murmurs and it sends a shudder through him that he doggedly ignores, wary of that floaty feeling she inspired in him a little while ago. If he’s gonna best her at this crooked little game then he needs his faculties clear. “You all good, Elvis?”

“Yeah,” he gives her a cocky grin and forces his hands to relax, game face on and smug smile back in place, “have at it little girl.”

He hopes she’ll shed some of her clothes and she does but only her stiff blue jeans. Leaving her in her panties and that white crisp shirt which is very wrinkled now. The pink bow remains in her hair and serves to really fuck with his mind, along with her sweet face settling back between his legs, and Elvis is man like any other and he really, really wants to cum at the mere sight of her

“Now where were we, Coco?” she asks his weeping head and his hands start to tingle and he gets a really alarming feeling akin to stage fright, so he digs his heels further into the mattress to anchor himself. She blows on the wet head and the chill makes it twitch futilely, about as fed up as Elvis is over being teased this excessively. “So sensitive! I’m gonna have some fun with you baby. That silly man has been hiding you from me hasn’t you? Real mean of him to keep a toy like you from a girl he professes to spoil.”

It’s vague but also keen, this feeling of being ignored for his own good. Like Susie has kindly decided to remove Elvis and his goddamn lady killer reputation from the room, stripping him down to brass tacks, unmaning him to hopefully rebuild him. He really determines to give it the old college try by forcing himself to accept it, to remember that this is little Susie who’s got him in a such a vulnerable state, and while she might be a stinker, she hasn’t got a cruel bone in her body. He makes himself take steadying breaths and focus on the way her tiny hands grip him and move up and down, never ignoring the hood, always incorporating it in the sweet, slow drag. The way she rolls his foreskin up and over his weeping head again and again is just the right amount of friction, like she’s been watching the way he does it himself and he can’t help but start thrusting a little. His hips flex on their own and his mind settles into the well worn groove of needing to finish, the: “fuck it, who cares I need to cum” mentality that’s had him risking plenty of scandals in public or with the wrong lady, just because he can’t stop once it gets this good. He can taste each roll and grip and drag of her nails, and he needs more.

He lets out a heartfelt moan when her mouth starts running up the crease of his thigh, and that makes her give him a responding one. He can’t overthink now, can’t object to the way Susie has started to lick the pulsing vein underneath, collecting the salty taste of him, moaning all the while like she’s getting a deep Swedish massage or some shit. She looks like she’s in heaven kissing his balls and he whines at that, can’t help it because she looks so defiled right now.

His thighs begin to quiver as her lips drag over his tightening balls, her hands along his cock feeling too good. She’s been nice like she said she would be, no more tongue dipping into the glans and he thinks he might get through this unscathed until her hands stop and she pauses from licking at him like he’s a lollipop, to murmur to wobbling length,

“Oh pretty Coco, you look ready to pop! So soon? You can, you know, you can whenever you want, but I’m not stopping after that. We made a deal.”

Elvis heaves a breath in and somehow it sounds as loud as a wheezbag. He holds it in hopes that maybe the tunnel vision he’s got will calm down, the sheets feeling very foreign against his fingertips.

“You ok you there, Presley?” Susie checks in, raising her eyes from his engorged cock to watch his flushed face, because he hasn’t said anything in minutes as his body grows more and more desperate, all he’s been giving her are pained noises and shocked little gasps. “If you can’t talk baby, tap my hand.”

“I can talk, dammit.” he snaps, “Just wanna cum.”

“Oh alright, we’ll get you there then.” she smiles at him, pleased with the petulant set of his mouth that she’s about to erase.

“Wanna be in you.” he tries, hoping maybe her jaw is getting tired and she’ll abandon this science experiment. “Make you feel real good, lil one.”

“Later. If you’re good for me.” she assures him, “Remember, Mopey, nothing’s getting you out of this but a tap on the hand or our agreed upon phrase.”

“Later then, I’m gonna ruin you.” He snarls.

She watches his face closely as he threatens and then accepts with a roll of his eyes and a head toss against the pillows, setting his face like he does when he just wants to get a scene over with. Poor man, he needs this badly, and Susie figures that maybe edging isn’t his cure, overestimation seems more like the ticket to make him lose his mind. His true mind, the one that needs to give in for an hour or two and let himself be wrung out.

With that ambition in mind she starts stroking him in earnest with one small hand, first focusing on the base until he starts to settle and relax. “C’mon, that’s it, you can thrust baby, let’s get you there.”

He gives a little nod and a moaning assent, broad and gleaming shoulders melting back into the bed even as those snake like hips start to work in earnest with her subdued motions. She spares her left hand to place it on his thigh, just to feel the muscle work, dragging her thumbnail on the soft inside. The scrape makes him shudder, more slick seeping out of his foreskin and dripping down his length and she figures it’s now or never.

He’s distracted with bucking up into her grasp and with his eyes clenched closed he doesn’t see when she props herself up and opens her mouth to swallow him down. Predictably the lower half of him jolts clear off the bed, shoving his cock further into her mouth and she’s ready for it, swallowing him down and keeping her teeth clear.

His breath catches before his voice booms with a plaintive, “Oh god, oh no, oh god!” His hands are shaking like they’re motorized and he grips the edge of the bed in one while the other restlessly roams his chest and throat in a strange and soothing sort of tick.

Keeping the majority of his length snug against her tongue, Susie does the nice thing and rubs her hands along his shaking thighs in a soothing gesture, humming to him with his length still down her throat and his neck snaps back so fast in response he looks mildly possessed.

“God, Susie, I’m gonna!-“ he sounds very worried about it and she’s not having that at all.

She rubs the firm line of his lower belly and takes him out a little so it’s mostly just the tip and its sensitive hood left in her mouth and she works him him gently, lolling him around patiently and she’s rewarded within the minute by his pleas coming back in high pitched whines, like the kind he playfully uses in his songs and it’s the sweetest recompense for her efforts.

“Where, where d-d-do you, where do you-y-you want m-me t-to-“

She pops off him for a split second to chirp, “In my mouth baby.”

Then she gets back to it, sucking gently and working the foreskin this way and that, harmless little nibbles to it that has him sitting up straight in the bed with a sudden rush of adrenaline. His belly shaking he’s so close but he has to watch this, has to see for himself that little Susie is moaning like a paid whore while worrying his extra skin with her painted lips. He starts shaking so badly at the sight of her and gratefully she looks up and meets his eyes right when he needs to see her soul, her doe eyes are full of nothing but assurances, lust and enjoyment. Disbelieving but incapable of anything else, Elvis has all he needs in this moment,. He takes his Thumper at her word and cums against the roof of her mouth in long and steady spurts, his strength giving out as he sags back against the sheets.

“Oh goddamn, little girl.” he groans and hopes he’ll hit ground gently because right now he’s close to the moon he’s so heady.

“My word Presley, you taste Devine.” she moans back to him as soon as she is done slurping him up.

He feels his cock give an indecisive twitch at hearing her hoarse praise before it starts to soften. He’s really quite busy digging his fingers into his eye sockets in hopes that he’ll stop seeing stars so he misses it when she reaches up to her hair and tugs the pink bow out, bringing it down to his slick length and wrapping it around the base.

Hyper aware of everything relating to little Elvis right now, he flails at the feel of velvet sliding along it and before he can crack his eyes open and asses what the hell Susie is up to, his freshly sucked cock is being subjected to the hellish sensation of a hairbow being cinched around its base.

Through the pounding in his ears he hears her sweet little voice mummering: “Don’t get soft on me now, ole man. We aren’t done.”

“For fucks sake, Susie!” he thunders and launches up in a sitting posture, just in time to watch her add the finishing touches to a pretty little bow at the base of his vibrantly angry cock. “Susie, I swear, no, just no I-“

“There’s a word for ‘no’ here, Mr. Presley, and it isn’t no.” she kneels there between his legs, transatlantic accent sounding very commanding and her hands folded primly as if she didn’t just force all the circulation to stay in his aching cock. “Dost wish to tap out?”

He glares at her, shooting daggers and vindication that has made grown men shrink before him. She just keeps batting those Bambi eyes and takes to trailing a fingernail up the seam of his balls and he swears he didn’t sob from the feel of it, he just took a weird sounding breath, is all.

Elvis is almost where she wants him, he’s alarmed that he has more in him, but terrified that giving in to her will result in him really letting go. She wants him just past that, in just enough pain to be begging for her to end it by helping him chase his pleasure again. His bottom lip starts to wobble and watching it closely she moves her fingernail with unhurried determination down his balls, passing them and to that smooth stretch of skin right behind them, leading to his puckering hole. His eyes blow wide as he suspects her destination and it’s comical to see the relief on his face when she goes no further, just keeps rubbing that smooth stretch of skin until he sucks in a deep breath from something other than nervousness. Too late he realises his mistake, his stupid worry that she was going to play with his ass blinded him to the fact that rubbing right behind his balls is painfully good and he wasn’t ready to feel this good, this needy, this soon.

Susie finds that watching his balls draw up snug against the velvet bow is really the cutest thing, they’re having a grand time and their owner is making incoherent sounds and hand motions that suggest he wants her to climb up on the bed with him, be closer to him as he lays back down, his body trembling too hard to hold him up.

She feels a great deal of satisfaction at having him so overcome, she has seen him performing and at play, he has astounding stamina and a shocking amount of toughness when it comes to pushing through that pain threshold. She can tell now that it’s that very gift that was keeping him back in this setting. He nearly sinks down to blissful surrender but that mechanism keeps hauling him back out like he’s getting waterboarded instead of loved on. But he’s trembling now, hands reaching for something and his eyes look utterly lost, he’s sinking and she’s there to catch him

Settling on the bed between his splayed legs she leans over him and takes a moment to soothe him, trace his face and swipe the tears she is astounded to find on his cheeks.

“I’ve got you Mopey, we’re gonna let you break free, together, I promise.” he clutches at the back of her neck when she gets close to his ear and she only hears moans from him for a while. “You trust me?”

His hand is shaking badly where it rests on the back of her neck but she feels him starting to rut against her belly, pain having been overcome by need. “Please, mama” he chokes out. “Please, I wanna be good.”

“You’re always good for me, baby. Always.” she drags her mouth against those high cheekbones and tastes salt. “You’ll be good and tell me if it’s too much, right?” She pulls away to stare him down, make him focus on her eyes and when he does they’re shimmering sapphires in the lamplight. Her breath hitches in awe of him.

“W-wa-want y-you t-t-to ha-have f-fun.” he gasps out and that is a different voice, one she hears when he’s playing with children or making voices up for the sock puppets. It’s a little boy’s voice and she’s sure now he’s gone at last. “W-want t-to make m-my lil Susie p-p-proud.”

“I’ve never been prouder, baby boy. I love you.” she swears and now is not the time for it but it slices through his haze and strikes him as just what he needs. He looks all of 17 himself right now and her heart warms.

“I-I know!” he cries low and anguished, and his lip really is wobbling in earnest now, lashes clumping into dark little spears, “You, you a-always s-s-show me.”

“I’m gonna show you now.” she vows, “I’m going to show you how perfect and lovely and beautiful you are to me.” she kisses down the length of his sweaty chest, his hands never leaving some part of her. Her shoulders, her hair, her arms, constantly petting her and clinging as she goes further downwards. “Wouldn’t be such a challenge to get you to be selfish for a second if you weren’t the most giving man on the planet, Mopey. Look at the production you made me go to just to love on you!”

He does look at his vibrant pink cock and the bow around it and the way Susie won’t suck it like a normal human, she keeps kissing his thighs instead and sucking his balls with loving devotion and he cries from it, unabashedly whining and whimpering from how horribly lovely it feels.

Minutes go by and he tries to savor the white noise in his ears, the pounding of his pulse and the feel of her smearing her lipstick on his sack, all the while dreading and needing the moment she finally takes his jerking cock back into her mouth. She grins at the way it’s wobbling and twitching, like a white flag of surrender begging for her terms, anything she asks for and he’ll give it. It’s shining in the lamp light as precum sputters out of it almost as plentiful as seamen in an orgasm.

“Oh mama.” he keeps groaning in between sobs and she rubs her breast harder against the top of his hairy thigh, nearly insane herself from the sight of him this wrecked. Suave and smug Elvis Presley is weeping and thrusting his uncut cock into the air, a hand gripping the strands of his immaculate pompadour until it’s falling into his face, all in hopes she’ll let him cum sometime soon.

“Dear god, you are exquisite right now.” she moans, uttelry moved that he trusts her this much.

“B-be good to me, mama, I-I need-“ he stutters out, voice shaky, switching course part way through his sentence, “-a-am I-I what y-y-you wanted?”

“You are better than my wildest fantasies, sweet man.” She swears earnestly before giving in to the thing he needs. And dreads.

He was right to dread it. When she does envelop him again, it’s like fire and lightning shooting straight up his spine and the ache in his balls resonates with the ache in his chest and he howls, ass clenching, trying in vain to pump out the seed she’s clamped off. She rides him with her mouth like a damn bullrider, going with him as he makes a bridge with his hips, his whole body strung taut in the moment of denial before slumping back again, eyes wild and chest heaving, unable to release.

His body is eel-like as he writhes in the sheets, svelte and lithe, undulating and seizing up in preparation only for the cruel hairbow to dash him back to earth. Susie is losing her mind right along with him, watching this morphing of a man into his most primal state. She tastes nothing but his salty precum and she rolls his foreskin around in her mouth like a chocolate, occasionally diving down the length of him until her nose is buried in his dark thatch of hair.

It’s suckling the tip that sends him wild, so she spares it often, making sure to give him a chance to breath in between her attentions, but there’s nothing more gorgeous than watching him shake and writhe with no aim in mind, gown dumb with need. The minutes begin to bleed for him and all he can think is that he’s being good, that he’s powerless and weirdly he takes some pride that his sacrifice, each shudder and burn of holding back, makes her pleased with him.

A shaky hand comes down to where she’s scratching his thatch of pubic hair and after a brief moment she catches on to his need, entangling their fingers together as he swims to the surface long enough to shudder and mouth incoherent praises at his lil friend.

“You’re a keeper, honey.” he pants, eyes glittering and his neck strained with the effort to hold his fuzzy head up off the pillow.

“And you, Presley,” she grins at him as bright and joyous as ever, “you look awfully pretty like this, mouth hung open, eyes rolling back. Coco downright weeping for me.”

“I-I-I’m glad.” he whispers hoarsely. “T-thank y-y-you, ma-mama.”

She chuckles, because even teetering on the edge of brainless he’s still a darling. It seems he’s forgotten he even has a need at this point, hips stilling and whines ceasing as he pants, his eyes wavering in and out of focus. They’ve finally passed that line and it’s just him and Susie floating here in white sheets while she tells him he’s pretty and good. She starts to consider that maybe she should start pulling him back up in case he’s forgotten the code.

Then the hand limply holding her own squeezes tight and he mumbles into his pillow, head turned away from the bedside lamp, “I needs it bad mama, please mama!” he whines, hand clutching his own hair and his whole body starts to vibrate as if revving from deep within.

“You wanna let go?” she whispers, spitting gently on the head of him, adding to the gooey mess pouring out of him.

“P-please, oh please, I aint gots it-“ he sobs, baby talk slurring through.

“You’ve been so good baby,” she coaxes, “mama is gonna get you there.”

“Need-n-n-need to pee mama.” He whimpers bewildered.

Good lord he’s so far gone.

She makes sure to grip his hand tight and assuring as she takes him in her mouth once more, tonguing at the leaking slit and his scream is deafening and on pitch, shifting into a wheeze as she yanks the bow loose and takes her mouth off to watch the fountain of seed that comes spewing out of him. His jaw works frantically and his mouth is agape as he tastes freedom and epiphany and trust and all he knows is that he can let go at last. So he does, his muscles locking up for ages, emptying himself and he’s entirely unaware and uncaring of where he’s spraying until he hears Susie’s shocked cheer,

“Mopey you’ve hit the ceiling!” and to his misery and relief her mouth comes back to swallow what he’s giving up, warm and wet and rhythmically swallowing down his spend until it’s making him frantic for nothingness and he cries out,

“I-I-enough, enough, i I like, no I- I I am a pussy! Goddamn it!”

She stops immediately and he feels nothing at all for a few moments. He might as well be dead he is so lost to his reality, numb and his sight gone until he feels her slide beside him, soft, small hands that he’d know even in death, gentling him back to earth.

“Can I quote you on that, Presley?” she grins and he only knows that because he can feel the curve of her cheek against his own as he shudders and relearns how to breath. “Look, you’ve ruined mama’s pretty bow!” she dangles soaked pink velvet in front of his face, and for some reason that’s what makes him blush scarlet.

He lifts his eyes to find that there is a glistening wet spot on the ceiling. Oh goddamn. He moans and gives into the need to burrow, deep deep inside of her, this nasty little girl who knows and loves him. He settles for pressing his face into her breasts, the near suffocating dampness of her flesh a comforting transition after being deprived of air by his own hyperventilation for so long. She obligingly gathers him in, throws a leg over his trembling body to bring him closer and he makes himself small and savors it. Nuzzling into her skin and pressing lazy kisses to her skin, trying to say what can’t be said.

Susie finds words first, “Thank you.” she whispers into his hair, “You just gave me a precious gift. You should have seen yourself, a force of nature, Presley.”

He knows his smushed face is blushing and he tries to raise a hand to bat at her face, waggle her chin teasingly but it just flops aimless and enervated. Gah he’s really wrecked. And sleepy. He grabs at her harder as things start to slip in mushy and cloudy softness. She squeezes back just as hard.

“That’s it Mopey,” she gives him head scratches and that’s when he slips away, downwards but it’s not into blackness, it’s into warmth, “drift off, I’ve got you. I’ll be here when you wake up. Maybe hold you to that ‘later’ you swore to me.”

[rainnotliam]

Here’s for you Arven simps. Don’t think I don’t see you, I am one myself. Come out of the shadows my friend.

Arven didn’t want to think about the embarrassing situation Mr. Saguaro had gotten him into. He could hear the whispered remarks about him, saying “Oh, I thought he’d be a bit more on the studious side” or “Thought he had his father in him.”

Frankly it was nothing thankfully, as the students had quickly gotten silenced by one statement of his friend. Y/N.

“Escuchen, porque sólo digo esto una vez. Leave him alone, he can be his own person, not just a professor’s son!”

They ran for it, and judging by the bell, were scrambling to make it to lunch. Safely, where the teachers were.

“Cobardes.” Y/N muttered under their breath. “Arven, you alright?”

Their upperclassman looked at them with a silent gaze, only to shake his head. “I’m fine… they’re not even worth it.”

Y/N stared at Arven for a few moments, before breaking into a pure smile. “Glad to see you’re taking steps!”

“Cállate,” Arven gently nudged them in the ribs with his elbow, to which Y/N playfully did the same back. He couldn’t stay sad for long: this bundle of energy would find a way to cheer him up either way.

“I hope Nemona is there early for our table, I am star-ving!” Y/N laid heavy emphasis on their last words.

Arven slightly frowned. He wasn’t used to the battle-loving girl yet, who would used to defeat him and Mabostiff nonstop…

“Yeah. Hope she is,” he said flatly.

He didn’t say anything else as they arrived to the lunchroom, before Y/N practically ran over to Nemona, who jumped out of her seat to hug them. Arven awkwardly sat on the opposite side of both of them, as Nemona squeezed the air out of Y/N. Literally.

“Ahhh Y/N I missed you! We haven’t seen each other as much as we should beeee!”

“Me too- Could you let go a little?”

“Only a little!” Nemona pouted as she had her face right against Y/N’s. “We shall never separate as much again!” She announced.

Arven rolled his eyes, resting his hands against his face, elbows on the table.

“You make it sound like you’re dating almost,” he chuckled.

“Arceus no! Y/N is just a friend I really need,” Nemona responded as she hugged them tightly. “How’d it go in classes?”

Arven’s face heated a little, before promptly looking away. He could only stare at the lights again for so long. “Alright, I guess.”

“Oh! Mr. Saguaro mentioned about a ‘boy’ who’s really into culinary arts and then asked me for a correct answer on how to make meals tastier. But after I got the correct answer, he slipped Arven’s name in.” Y/N piped up.

Nemona and Arven looked at Y/N.

“…”

Nemona bit her lower lip, lowering her face. Her entire body was shaking, before a small giggle came out of her mouth.

“You can’t be serious-“

“Y/N! Bud, I told you not to mention anything-!” Arven half yelled, standing up as he said.

Oh.

Oh boy was that a mistake. Arven could only hear the silence filling the room at this statement, dozens of students looking at him.

He quickly sat back down.

Only to hear Nemona burst into a fit of laughter, and hear participation from others too.

“Bud? Oh that’s a new one Arven!” She laughed.

“Don’t,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands.

“I thought you didn’t like giving titles or nicknames to people? Is Y/N an exception, hm? Do they have something you really like about them?”

“Hush, Nemona!” Y/N’s face was completely flushed from the bridge of their nose to the tip of their ears. They tried to wrestle against Nemona, who only easily wrapped her arm around their neck, and ruffled their hair.

Arven could feel his face practically redden, as his cold hands could feel the warmth of his cheeks.

(Notes: Alright, I hear you guys screaming from your devices as he calls you “little buddy” or “best buds.” Don’t worry, will make more of these short stories)

[boy-above]

absolutely hate how people treat adults who look younger than they actually are. like genuinely i wish people talked more about how borderline dehumanizing it can be to be treated like a baby your whole life no matter what you do. i have never once had a person correctly guess my age and i am perceived as a child by literally every person i have ever met; and they treat me accordingly. they speak down to me like i'm less worthy of respect, they treat me like i have little agency, and worst of all is when they use that certain specific voice that most people use when they talk to kids. yknow the like, "hey buddy how are you doing :) where are your parents? :)" and i have to be like i'm fucking 26 years old and half the time they don't believe you. i got carded at the chuck e cheese, they wouldn't let me Leave The Building until i showed them my ID. and you probably think that's so funny but you wouldn't if you were in my shoes. it's frustrating and embarrassing and just makes me tired. and do not even get me started on how people treat adults who look young who are in relationships. people call their partners creeps and weirdos, saying being attracted to a full grown adult is equivalent to being attracted to a child just because of how they look. if you think like this i need you to take a step back and think about what this mindset means for the "young looking" member of the relationship. you are telling us that we straight up aren't allowed to have relationships. not only are you saying our bodies should never be considered attractive, you're saying being attracted to us should be considered a crime. what are we supposed to do? do you expect us to find partners who also look as young as we do? are we supposed to jump through hoops to make you comfortable? do you know how hard finding a partner who looks your age is when you're this small, especially if you're attracted to men? why do i have to be made to feel guilty about wanting someone to be attracted to me? why do people not think about the implications of what being told it's disgusting to be attracted to you can do to a person? i wish there was more discussion about this because genuinely it's weighing me down. i'm already infantilized due to my autism and i probably won't ever be treated like an adult, not until i go fucking gray i guess. i just want a boyfriend, that shouldn't be a scandalous fucking statement

[you-can-call-me-fangs]

Would like a smut with Foo Fighters x Male!Reader since I wanna know how Foo Fighters does it the first time with our lucky reader and how it lead to it if that's okay. Thank you and have a nice day

Yay! I finished a request for once!

Foo Fighter x Male Reader

Contains: Bimbofication, cum drunk FF, reader goes brain dead for a minute too

"Can we have sex?"

Your eyes went wide from the question. Out of every question that FF could have asked that last one thing you expected it to be was that. 

"So let me get this straight," you started, "you got out of your cell and snuck all the way to the other side of this prison in the middle of the night for sex?"

FF sheepishly scratched the back of her head, slightly embarrassed now. "Well of course it sounds weird when you say it like that, let me rephrase." She took a breath before starting again. "I understand the basics of sex and why people do it, but I just don't get what's so funny about it."

FF looked to you hoping you got why she asked to have sex with you, but that only made less sense. You looked on with an arched a brow at FF's statement not completely following along, and even a little more confused than you were before.

FF started again, "Jolyne and Ermes keeping making these sex jokes that I just don't get and it's starting to annoy me." You nodded your head, making a 'oh, I get it now' face. However, if that's the case then- "Why don't you just ask the girls what's supposedly so funny?" You asked, finishing the rest of your thought aloud

"I already tried that! They just keep saying I wouldn't get it because..."

You could finish the rest for yourself, because she has no experience. It made sense though, FF is a stand after all, why would she have a ton of experience with such a human desire? FF started pouting thinking back to the multiple times when Jolyne and Ermes had shooed FF away like she was a child because she wasn't allowed in on their jokes. With FF making such a cute pouting face you almost couldn't say no to her, but you saw FF more like a friend than a fuck buddy, would something like this really work? FF looked over to you, trying to get a gauge based on your expression, she already sensed the answer you were going to give her. You locked eyes with FF, she was giving you this pleading puppy dog look.

"FF-"

"Please! I really wanna know!"

"FF-"

"It's knowledge that I don't have yet, I have to understand it! Please!" FF begged cutting you off again. FF had intertwined her hands together giving you the biggest saddest puppy dog eyes she could muster. You sat there contemplating FF's request for several minutes the whole time FF hadn't moved, keeping her eyes on you patiently waiting for your definitive answer. You opened your mouth hesitating to speak. FF continued to look at you expectantly, a blush ghosting over her cheeks making her even cuter and in turn making it harder to say no to her. You thought hard about the situation, seriously thinking over your options.

You didn't have a cellmate at the moment they had gotten into some big fight which landed them in confinement as punishment, so it's not like you had that to worry about. Plus it had to be well past midnight no guards would be roaming around, but you would both still have to be quiet if you two didn't want to get caught. I mean, if I decide to do this, you thought quickly as an after thought, but who were you kidding, you did want to do this. FF wasn't unattractive at all it would be just as much fun for you as it would be for her.

You finally decided to speak again after what felt like forever, "I...I guess I could help you out." You could already see the joy painted across FF's face, you quickly jumped in before she could potentially shout her excitement, giving you both away immediately. "But we'll have to be quiet about it so we don't get caught, alright?" FF snapped her jaw shut as quickly as she could choosing to nod her head in agreement frantically, however the grateful shine never left her eyes. You could practically hear all the thank you's she wanted to say just from looking into her bight sky blue irises.

FF couldn't sit in place anymore opting to spring forward lunging herself at your body and trapping you in a tight hug. As FF pulled away you both couldn't help but notice how much distance FF had closed between the two of you. Instead of wasting anymore time you placed a hand on FF's cheek silently asking for permission. FF gave you a gentle smile and a nod as a response leaning forward to meet you half way.

It started off as a small peck until you kissed her again, longer, and then again, making the next one even longer than the last one. Another extended kiss then another until finally the only time your lips parted was when either of you needed a moment to breathe before going back in. The makeout session bewteen you two intensified quicker than you expected, before you knew it your hands were around her waist and FF's were flung around your neck, both of you and hot and blushing. The kissing itself was heated and rather rough now, hardly stopping for a break as your tongues continued to meet.

Your hands gripped FF's clothes, you wanted to rip them off. As if reading your mind FF did it for you, stripping herself down till she wasn't wearing anything at all. Just seeing her in such a state made you want to pick her up and fuck her against the wall, but you had to hold yourself back for now, this was presumably her first time after all. You should at least try to act like you were being gentle with FF. The best place you could think to start then was her pussy, her already wet pussy, she had gotten so turned on just from a few minutes of heated kissing. You wasted no time in getting to her puffy pink cunt, pratically inviting you in already. FF opened her legs for getting the jist of what you wanted her to do next. Using two fingers you opened up her lips and connected your mouth to her wasting no time at all. The feeling of arousal was immediate for FF. She stopped herself from moaning out just in time, clenching her jaw shut.

FF hovered her hands in front of her unsure of what to do with them. You continued eating her out somewhat oblivious to the small predicament she was in. You hadn't expected FF to taste so good, to make the moment feel all the more enthralling just the reminder that you are the first and only person to have ever touched or even seen FF in such a lewd state made her taste even sweeter on your tongue. You kept licking at her wet flushed lips sticking your tongue in, immediately getting a half concealed moan as your reward. You licked up until you reached her clit flicking your tongue over it then sucking. FF almost couldn't hold herself back anymore, bucking her hips to your mouth, her legs starting to quiver from the wave of ecstasy. As all these feelings were overflowing inside FF she let out an abrupt moan, which she quickly cut off by clasping her hand over her mouth forcing any more sounds that might come out back down.

You kept using your mouth to play with her clit, almost guiltly enjoying seeing FF struggle to keep herself together from all the pleasure you were elicting from her. FF could barely hold herself back from moaning out loud, tears threatening to fall from the corner of her eyes, drool sliding down the corner of her mouth. Even her brain felt as if it was getting blurry with want.

FF's skin was hot all over and she was no doubt blushing a deep red on her face for you to see. FF had never felt this way before. FF wasn't even aware you could feel this way before, the experience was new and different for her but in the best way possible. FF could and wanted to keep going like this for as long as she could handle. Maybe a few hours? Maybe until the sun started to rise? Or maybe you could just keep going, keep going even when FF felt like she couldn't take anymore yet you would still just continue to play with her as if you didn't have a single care about stopping any time soon. FF could feel something rise in her, she felt like a balloon that was close to bursting, she couldn't hold this feeling back anymore, FF didn't want you to stop. Unfortunately for her that's exactly what you did next, you stopped.

Wait, you...stopped. Why did you stop? You could see the shock and confusion written on FF's face as her hand quickly came away from her face her lips parted geting ready to yell and question you. You chose to cover FF's mouth with your hand rushing out your next words in a loud whisper.

"I know, I know, but I'm not done yet and I don't want you cumming before we've even gotten to the good part yet." You said practically reading FF's mind. Thankfully this calmed FF down enough to the point where you could see the look in her eye change from shock to curiousity.

Since FF was being so good at staying quiet you decided to reward her in a way by not keeping her in suspense and teasing her any longer with foreplay.

You stood up undoing your belt pulling your pants down and letting your dick spring free, inches from FF's face. Her eyes went wide instantly turning her head this way and that to get full look at your cock as if she was studying it. It was already erect and girthy and flushed a pink color. A prominent vein was poking out along the side as the tip leaked a stream of precum, you were clearly just as turned on she was.

As if on instinct FF started to open her mouth her body already seemingly knowing what to do or what it wanted to do. However you stopped her before her mouth could get around your dick knowing you would be too entranced by the feeling of her warm mouth enveloping you that you wouldn't want her to stop but your desire to fuck FF had become too much to bare now, you couldn't wait any longer.

You grabbed FF by the shoulder pulling her to stand up with you. As soon as she was at her full height you grabbed underneath her thighs and hoisted her up, FF's arms and legs wrapping around you. You guided FF over to the one available wall on the far side of your cell and pressed her up against it, FF hugged you tighter your chests being the first to meet. FF opened her mouth again about to ask you what you planned on doing next with this new position, but before FF could get the words out you stopped her again, but this time not with your hand but with you sliding FF's body down your own just enough so that her still dripping wet cunt slid snugly onto your waiting cock. FF's breathe--luckily?--caught in the back of her throat cutting off the loud moan that wanted to escape. FF had to find a new way to stay quiet now though. FF couldn't use her palm anymore, her hands were too busy being grappled to your back, her nails creating tiny cresent shaped dents in your skin, and they didn't plan on moving anytime soon. So FF did the only thing that flashed through her foggy, and getting foggier, brain; biting down perfectly right on the spot between your neck and shoulder.

The bite was a lot harder than FF would have wanted, causing you to wince from the unexpected pain, but FF was sure that if she didnt act quick an entire wing of a prison would have been alerted as to exactly what you two were doing.

You gave FF a few moments to get used to, and process, the sensation of being full with your cock but the urge to start pumping into her warm tight pussy overtook your body making you start a slow steady pace of lifting FF by her legs up and down on your shaft. Your brain was beginning to turn into a one track mindset, which was, stuffing the whimpering blushing twitching stand in front of you. You barely even began to take notice of the fact that you had picked up your slow pace, moving FF's body as if she weighed nothing and thrusting your hips upward to drill yourself into her as much as you could. FF wasn't given much time to adjust to your dick let alone was she prepared for you to start pounding her and at such a quickening speed. The idea of letting her teeth come loose from digging into your shoulder and asking you to slow down never even occured to her. In fact no thoughts at all were crossing through FF's mind just incoherent half sentences and jumbled words popping into her head and vanishing with each new heavy thrust you did straight to her pussy, her walls clamping down on you to try and keep you from leaving.

Her body's hold on your own tightened along with her nails and teeth too, she was getting that feeling again. The feeling of something bubbling up inside of her, close to bursting. Don't...stop, was all FF could think to herself, the words never even made it out of her mouth. She was only capable of sounds now, long drawn out moans and a blubbering collage of words that sounded alien when mixed with the drool coming out of her mouth and coating your shoulder.

"Cum..cumming...I'm.." Your sentence, if you could call it that, had fallen apart, too involved in your current action. In all honesty you wanted to keep going even after you came, just keeping pumping load after load inside of FF, but your brain allowed some room for you to remember that there was a person attached to you who, by the way, was experiencing this pleasure filled haze for the first time. You didn't want to overdo it, even though you were pretty sure that line had already been crossed.

You took one of your hands away from the deathgrip you had on FF's leg and pressed your whole hand and arm against the wall behind FF. Knowing you were close you used all your might, literally, forcing FF's back to the wall. With one final thrust forward you buried your dick deeper and deeper, clenching your jaw, groaning as you coated her walls with your cum. You heard FF make a mumbled but still clearly audible high pitched moan. You still kept lazily thrusting into FF, fucking your cum deeper into her, as if your body didn't want to stop yet. You kept this up for bit as you officially came down from your high, sadly having to stop thrusting to give your body a breather.

FF no longer felt that pressuring build up inside of her anymore the feeling had bursted along with you just as she figured it would, cumming is what you had called it, right? FF felt unusually giddy at the knowledge that she had cum for the first time. Her teeth finally unhinged themself from your shoulder, but still not leaving from the crook of your neck, a euphoric smile forming on her lips, FF couldn't help but start giggling.

As you stood there catching your breath you heard FF's drunken sounding laugh as her body relaxed in your arm, you brought your other arm from the wall back down to grab her leg again and hold her up properly once more.

"FF...FF?" No response aside from FF continuing to giggle with a few hiccups breaking in between.

With no reply the best way you could think to get her attention was to do a quick a bounce of her body poking your dick in and out of her once more, jolting FF to the present. FF finally let go of your shoulder sitting up right in your arms getting a good look at her.

Her lipstick had turned into lip gloss shining with the help of her saliva coating her lips and dripling down the corner of her mouth. You could even see red specks of blood too. You didn't even want to see the damage that had been done to your shoulder although you could guess that there was now a sizeable bite mark engraved on you. Her bright blue eyes had gotten even brighter, if that were possible, her hair was disheveled and her cheeks were bright red.

"Again, again," FF chorused in wistful voice.

"I think you've had about as much as you could handle, FF," you said looking her up and down with a playful smirk.

"No, no. More, learn more." FF slurred, the words coming out stringed together and sloppy.

"FF-"

"Again!"

"FF-"

"More!"

You sighed, she was totally brain dead now and she was definitely going to be zero help on getting her back to her cell before the guards checked to make sure she was there.

[telomeke]

MY SCHOOL PRESIDENT EP.9 – A CALL FOR MARRIAGE EQUALITY

(above) Ep.9 [3I4] 9.00

This little shared moment between Tinn and Gun is also MSP playing its part in Thai BL's collective support for the legalization of same-sex marriage in Thailand. The country is moving toward it, with Parliament having ratified a bill that will make this a reality, but they're not at the finish line yet and there are still hurdles to be overcome (i.e., it could still be pushed back at any time).

With this as the context, many Thai BLs recently have made it a point not just to raise awareness of the issue, but also to keep marriage equality in the forefront of public consciousness lest support for it lose momentum.

I think Not Me and The Eclipse also did this, but I'm not sure exactly in which episodes though (let me know in the notes, if you will, and also which other BLs/GLs joined the party).

I know Bad Buddy definitely did step up to the plate for this, with PatPran spotlighting the issue of LGBTQ+ marriage when they went through their Ep.10 khan maak on the steps of the Archi Faculty (and with a subtle callback too in Ep.11 – see this link here).

So this is MSP's turn at bat, and they're doing it with a sweet little flourish by the sea (maybe nodding at Thailand's popularity as a venue for beach weddings? 😉). Tinn is expressing his hope for them to marry one day, and Gun is radiant (if a little embarrassed and cheekily dismissive) at the prospect.

And in doing so they're keeping the issue alive in the public eye, while at the same time their joyful, puppydog innocence is helping to tear down stigmas and normalize what many still seek to demonize, by showing up the baselessness of othering smears on the simple issue of two people in love wanting their union to be recognized like anybody else's. 💖

A brief note on the Thai linguistics here though – Tinn IS being irredeemably cheesy, but his comment about switching from songwriting to marriage isn't quite as headslappingly klunky as the English subtitles would have us believe.

He's playing on the word แต่ง (pronounced something like dtaeng) which has several meanings, including to write/compose and to marry.

So at Ep.9 [3I4] 9.00 when Tinn talks about switching from dtaeng phlaehng (แต่งเพลง, songwriting, where phlaehng means song/music) to dtaeng ngaan (แต่งงาน, a colloquial term for getting married), his line is not quite as semantically dissonant in Thai as it is in the English subtitles (even if it is a bit corny 😂).

I think it would have been a better fit if they'd translated his comment more along the lines of "switching from writing songs to writing our marriage vows" instead. Ah well. 🤷‍♂️

Anyway, a tip of the hat again to My School President for finding a way to squeeze in a socially responsible (albeit very subtle) comment on the weighty topic of marriage equality amid all the light-hearted gamboling in this episode.

Neither the comment nor the context in which it's delivered detracts from the other. Even though they're making a political statement, there's nothing obnoxious or in your face about the delivery at all, which is the best way for a potentially-divisive message to land.

I do love this show! 😍

[penmansparadise]

Eddie Munson ~ Sonnet 18

*I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO THE GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Tall Male!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Mild language

a/n: If I told you about the kind of week I've been having you would probably not believe me.  But before I get into that, here it is, the Eddie Munson x Male!Reader requested from my Wattpad.  As you all know, I was traveling.  Well, the good news is I arrived safely.  The bad news is literally days after arriving, I get COVID.  I mean, it has been a whole whirlwind.  So, now I'm going through the worst part of this and have been feeling like I got hit by a train.  So, in short, I'm fighting for my life.  Anyway, I hope that everyone enjoys this one and can forgive me for taking so damn long to post it.  My next post will be a Steve Harrington oneshot!  As always, thank you all for the support!!!

§

Ms. O’Donnell droned on about Shakespeare and his impact on literature as you twirled your pencil between your fingers. Usually, you paid attention. In every class, you were an A+ student and were even projected to graduate in the top ten percent of your class. But when you got to Ms. O’Donnell’s class, things were different. Although you enjoyed Shakespeare’s works, your attention was captured by something much more interesting – a head full of perfectly sculpted ringlets and a denim vest that looked like it had been to war and back. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and propped your head in your hand. Sitting just a few seats in front of you was Eddie Munson, the kind of man that would make anyone want to write poetry.

Since elementary school, you had shared at least one class with Eddie. Which meant that your crush on the boy started at a very young age. But he never gave you a second glance. You had always assumed that, just like everyone else, he believed you to be the quiet weird kid simply because you had good grades and paid attention in school. But he didn’t know the real you. The guy who drove a little too fast while blasting hard rock through the speakers of your beat-up Honda CRV. Eddie didn’t know the guy who spent an hour every day after school lifting weights to sculpt his body into that of the Greek Gods. Eddie didn’t know a thing. And instead of embarrassing yourself and making the first move, you resorted to side-long glances while passing the boy in the halls. That would just have to do. Because despite your confidence, you just couldn’t bring yourself to ask Eddie on a date, let alone tell him how you felt about him.

You continued twirling your pencil as you stared at Eddie. It didn’t matter how many times you saw the boy; you always found something new. It was like a game. And you were so invested in discovering something new about Eddie that you almost missed Ms. O’Donnell’s statement.

“You will have the week to complete the project before presenting it next Monday.”

Everyone let out a collective sigh that earned a chuckle from Ms. O’Donnell.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said, waving the class off. “But, lucky for all of you, this is a partner’s project.”

At that statement, you groaned while the rest of the class perked up in their seats. You were used to doing group projects by yourself, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed it. Ms. O’Donnell smirked.

“But you don’t get to choose your buddy. I do.”

The hushed chatter silenced as everyone stared at Ms. O’Donnell. She walked to her desk and picked up a piece of paper. Then, slowly but surely, she began to work her way around the classroom, pairing people together. Here and there, a student would grumble in disdain at their partner while you waited in anticipation. Then, finally, Ms. O’Donnell looked up from her paper and looked right at you.

“Mr. Y/N, you’ll be paired with Mr. Munson.”

It was as if time had stopped. Your heart began to beat like a race horse, and your body felt numb. In all the years you two had been in school together, you had never been paired to work together. Eddie had never even asked you for help on an assignment. You turned to face him, only to be met with his big brown eyes. He gave you a small smile, and you were a goner. You knew that there was no way you could work with Eddie. You could hardly pay attention in the classroom, and there was absolutely no way you’d be able to focus when it was just the two of you.

“Now,” Ms. O’Donnell began regaining your attention, “you’ll be discussing a piece of Shakespeare’s work. It can be a play or a poem. I don’t care. All I ask is that you make it interesting and have fun.”

With that, students began to rise from their seats to move by their assigned partners. But you didn’t move. Instead, you were trying to figure out a way to get around working one on one with Eddie. But while you were trying to formulate a plan, Eddie had already made his way to your desk. Your eyes were trained on the tile floor in front of you until a pair of beat-up white Reebok sneakers came into view.

“Y/N, right?” He asked.

You raised your head to look at him and had to reel in your emotions. For years you admired the boy from afar, and now he was standing directly in front of you. He was even more amazing up close. You could see little beauty marks on his fair skin that you never saw before. You were able to see the messy stitching on his denim vest and knew for a fact now that he did it himself. His lips were turned upward as he waited for you to answer him, but all you did was nod, unable to create a sentence. Eddie chuckled nervously as he grabbed a chair and pulled it up to your desk.

“I don’t think we’ve ever really been introduced before. I’m Eddie,” he said, straddling the chair.

You stared at him for a split second before finally gathering your wits and squaring your shoulders, your normal confidence returning.

“We’ve had at least one class together since elementary school,” you said, leaning in a little with a playful smirk. “I know who you are.”

Your sudden change of demeanor surprised Eddie, and you could see his cheeks turn a bright crimson.

“Right,” he said, nodding a little too furiously, “right.”

Neither of you said anything for a minute. Instead, you shared nervous glances and awkward giggles.

“So, do you-”

“I was thinking-”

Both you and Eddie spoke at the same time before falling into a fit of laughter. The sound was something you could never get used to, but you wanted to hear it over and over again. Eddie ran a hand through his curls and gestured toward you.

“You go first.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a light chuckle, “go ahead.”

You leaned back in your chair and folded your hands behind your head, stretching a little. Eddie’s eyes fell onto your toned arms, and you smirked.

“I was just gonna say I think we should do a poem.” You shrugged and sat up straight again. “It’ll be a little easier.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, his stare finally moving to meet yours. “Do you have one in mind?”

You chuckled.

“No, I don’t.”

Eddie looked down at his tapping foot before finally looking up at you and saying, “What about Sonnet 18?”

You froze for a second.

“You read poetry?”

Eddie didn’t cross you as the poetry reading type. He liked loud music and played the guitar in a metal band, and smoked marijuana. He wasn’t soft. He was hard and a little rough around the edges. Yet, he was suggesting a Shakespeare poem for your project. Eddie scratched his head and nodded.

“Yeah,” he began, “my uncle he, um, he has a few…poetry books?”

You raised your eyebrows in question.

“Poetry books?”

Eddie shook his head.

“Just, never mind. What do you think? Sonnet 18? You know, ‘shall I compare thee to a summer’s day’?”

You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled just slightly as you examined the boy in front of you. His head was dipped down a little, his messy curls covering most of the blush that graced his cheeks. He looked at you with eyes as innocent as a child, and all you could do was smile.

“Okay,” you said softly. “We can meet up today at my house if you want.”

You could almost visibly see Eddie relax at your suggestion. A wide grin spread across his face as he sat up a little straighter.

“Sounds perfect.”

It was cute how nervous he was around you. You wanted to make him blush almost as much as you wanted to hear him laugh again. Anything to see his bright brown eyes light up. So, you wrote down your address on a piece of paper, ripped it from your notebook, and handed it to Eddie. Your fingers just barely brushed over his as you gave him the paper. You could feel your heart jolt a little in your chest, and when you looked at Eddie, that beautiful blush was back on his cheeks, and you chuckled. The bell rang, and you gathered your things before turning to Eddie.

“I’ll see you later,” you said with a wink, then showed yourself out of the classroom.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. All you could think about was how later that day, you’d be alone with Eddie. There wouldn’t be a teacher or a class full of bored teenagers to act as a buffer. It would just be the two of you and the nagging urge to kiss is very plump lips. When the final bell of the day rang, you were nearly running to your car. Nervous energy was running through you like blood pumping through your veins. When you reached your car, you got in, turned it on, and turned up the radio. AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” began blasting through the speakers just as you started to back out. People turned toward the sound of the music, and you managed to ignore most of their gawking until you turned and locked eyes with Eddie from across the parking lot. He was standing next to his van, and even from where you were, you could see his jaw a little slack as he stared at you while AC/DC thundered through your speakers. A smile tugged at your lips, and you just turned away before driving off toward your house.

By the time you reached your house, your anxiety was almost eating you alive. Despite your best efforts at relaxing on your drive home, nothing worked. So, you did the only other thing you could do. You changed into a pair of gym shorts, opened up your garage, flicked on your radio, and began lifting your weights. It was the only mind-numbing activity you could think to do to stop yourself from going crazy while you waited. After the first set of reps, you ended up pulling your top over your head, leaving you in just your shorts. Sweat glistened on your bare chest as you continued your workout. “The Number of the Beast” by Iron Maiden began to blare through the tiny speakers on your boombox, pushing you even harder than before. You went rep after rep until suddenly you heard the sound of a car door shutting. When you turned toward the sound, you were greeted by Eddie’s wide eyes. You grabbed a towel and wiped off your torso as you approached him.

“Holy fuck,” Eddie whispered a little too loudly, earning a light chuckle from you.

A smirk pulled at your lips. What you would do to hear him whisper that very same phrase into your ear over and over again. You wrapped the towel around your neck and held an end with each hand.

“What was that?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally said, “Nothing.”

He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I, uh, I didn’t say anything.”

You stood in front of Eddie for another moment, letting the late afternoon sun and sweat on your chest create a shimmer effect on your skin. Eddie’s eyes traveled down the length of your body again, taking their time as they carefully examined every inch of exposed skin. You smiled as he deliberately checked you out.

“You want to head inside?” You asked, gaining Eddie’s full attention again.

He nodded before you turned and led him to your room. When you reached your small space, you walked straight to your dresser, leaving Eddie to gawk in the doorway.

“You can sit wherever,” you said, but Eddie didn’t make a move to sit. Instead, he did tiny circles as he took in his surroundings.

You didn’t lead on at school that you were anything but a good student. You didn’t advertise your music taste or show off your body, so by just looking at you, no one would know that you were a metalhead who took pride in his appearance. But once they walked into your bedroom, it would become evident. Hanging on your walls were posters ranging from Motley Crüe to Judas Priest, and sitting on your desk was a paper detailing a pretty strict workout regimen. After you grabbed a shirt from your dresser and your textbook from your desk, you turned and found Eddie sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I didn’t know you were into this kind of music,” he said, turning to watch you pull the shirt over your head. “Or that you were like,” he gestured toward you, “in great shape.”

You laughed, took a seat next to him, and leaned in a little.

“You also never asked.”

Eddie dipped his head, and that cute blush crept back onto his cheeks, making you smile. You so badly wanted to just grab him and kiss every inch of his red face, but you didn’t. Instead, you opened your textbook to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18.

“Okay,” you began reaching down into your backpack for your notebook and pencil, “so I went ahead and began the analysis of the poem. I figured I’d just do the analysis, and maybe you could worry about the poster board? Or whatever way we’re going to present the poem.”

You put your pencil between your teeth and began flipping through your notes when Eddie chuckled.

“What?” You said, the word barely coming out audible with your pencil still in your mouth.

Eddie reached forward and placed a cautious hand on yours, and your breath caught in your throat, the pencil falling between you two. It was as if time stopped altogether as a series of shocks ran through your body. His hand was warm, and his fingers were rough, but he was soft and gentle. Every nerve ending in your body was on high alert as you stared into his eyes, brown like the sunlit bark of an oak tree. You could have stayed that way forever. Just sitting there in a comfortable silence with Eddie’s thumb drawing lazy circles on your hand. It didn’t matter that you had a project to do. All you wanted was to be with Eddie in every way imaginable. Eddie’s thumb stilled, and he gave your hand a light squeeze.

“I know you’re used to doing all the work by yourself, but I actually did some of the analysis too.”

You couldn’t remove your eyes from his face. He was so close. All you wanted to do was trace his every feature from the arch of his brow to the curve of his lips. Eddie never let go of your hand as he reached into his bag and pulled out a ratty notebook. He flipped a few pages before finally releasing his light hold on you and picked up the notebook with both hands. Eddie cleared his throat, and you could feel a shift in the air. His throat bobbled as he swallowed several times, and his hands looked as if they were shaking just slightly. He looked at you briefly before returning his eyes to his notebook.

“Sonnet 18 compares a young man to a summer day,” he said before swallowing again and looking up at you.

Your eyebrows raised, and a playful smirk pulled at your lips.

“You don’t say.”

Eddie gave you a knowing look.

“I wasn’t done.”

You chuckled and put your hands up in defense.

“Sorry,” you said, crossing your arms, “by all means, please continue.”

Eddie gripped his notebook a little tighter and squared his shoulders.

“Shakespeare wrote this poem to describe this, uh, this guy he likes. It was kind of like a,” he tilted his head back and forth, “confession of sorts. He doesn’t just say this guy he likes is handsome because that would be too boring. So, he says he’s beautiful like a summer day.”

Eddie shook his head, his curls bouncing around his face.

“No,” he said firmly before placing his notebook down and looking directly at you. “This guy is more beautiful than that. He glows brighter than the sun and lights up any room. He hides from everyone even though he’s actually really cool and hardcore. This guy, he doesn’t let things or people strip him of his beauty despite what they may say.”

Your lips parted as your heart began to beat so rapidly that you were almost certain it was going to beat right out of your chest. But you couldn’t say anything because Eddie huffed a sigh and continued.

“This guy is someone you can watch from afar for years because you’re too scared to make your move. You’re too scared to even say two words to him, but you secretly hope every day that he’ll look your way. He’s someone you can fall in love with before you even know a single thread of information about him.”

Your stomach was doing somersaults as you stared at Eddie. He was fidgeting with a frayed edge of his denim vest. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached forward and placed your hand over his to still his busy fingers.

“May I interject?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie nodded.

“He’s also incredibly adorable, especially when he’s nervous. You know, this guy that Shakespeare is talking about.”

You gave a playful smile that Eddie reciprocated.

“Right, of course.”

You leaned in a little.

“He’s also creative and funny and smarter than he gives himself credit for.”

A hint of red blanketed Eddie’s face, and he looked down. You placed a finger under his chin and forced him to look up at you. The two of you just held the other’s gaze. You moved your hand to brush his hair behind his ear and let your hand linger for a split second longer than necessary. Your eyes darted down to look at his perfectly rounded lips. His tongue slid over the bottom one, and a tiny rush of electricity zinged through you.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” Eddie asked, causing you to look back into his eyes.

“W-what?”

“Because,” Eddie began, scooting a smidgen closer, making the gap between you two almost nonexistent, “if you’re second guessing yourself, just know I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your body felt numb at his words. For years you had dreamt of being in this exact position. Your hand on his and his face mere inches from yours. It was surreal, and you didn’t want to wait any longer. So, you leaned down and pressed your lips onto Eddie’s. He froze, body going rigid with surprise before melting into the kiss. Your lips moved against Eddie’s slow, but the kiss progressively grew urgent. Your hands traveled down the length of Eddie’s back until you were pulling him onto your lap. His legs straddled you, and his hands gripped your toned shoulders. Eddie’s arms snaked their way around your neck, deepening the kiss.

Every part of you was buzzing, and every place Eddie’s fingers grazed was lit aflame. You wrapped your arms around Eddie’s torso and, without breaking the kiss, fell back onto your bed. Eddie let out a small yelp and released your lips. You moved your hands to cup the back of his thighs, and he hovered over you on his elbows.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” you said, a little out of breath.

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, “that makes two of us.”

A burst of confidence zipped through you, and you squeezed his legs.

“Oh, really?”

Eddie dropped his head into the crook of your neck, chuckling lightly before lifting it again to look at you.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I always thought you were cute, but today when,” he motioned to your walls, “I realized we have a lot more in common than I thought, the feelings only grew.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you.

“I’m glad you only like me because of my music taste.”

A smile spread across Eddie’s face.

“Hey,” he said, poking your chest playfully, “music has a lot more pull than you think.”

The two of you started to laugh again. The sight of Eddie straddling you and the low rumble of his laugh against your chest was that of a dream. You could stay in that position for a thousand lifetimes if possible. But you knew you had a project to do. So, you nodded toward your discarded notebooks.

“Should we get back to work?”

“Actually,” Eddie said, drawing the word out, “I was hoping we could go get dinner.” He tilted his head to the side. “Like on a date.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed.

Within a matter of a day, you were kissing the boy you had a crush on and getting asked out on a date by him. Eddie bit his bottom lip and shrugged nonchalantly.

“If you want, you know?”

You knew that he was trying to play off his anxiety, and you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your lips. You brushed his hair behind his ear again and cupped his cheek.

“I’d love to, Eddie.”

You planted a sweet kiss on his nose before he peeled himself off you. Neither of you bothered to clean up your notebooks, leaving them strewn on the floor. Instead, you followed Eddie out to his van and jumped into the passenger seat. Eddie got behind the wheel and started digging through his pockets for his keys. You looked over at him and furrowed your eyebrows.

“So, do you actually read poetry, or was this whole thing planned?”

Eddie pulled his keys out and shoved them into the ignition with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah, no. I don’t know shit about Shakespeare. I was just trying to be romantic.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, nonetheless. Eddie leaned toward you with a smirk.

“Did it work?”

You tilted your head back and forth with an “Ehhh.”

Eddie threw his arms up but joined you when you started to laugh. You cupped his cheek and forced him to look at you again.

“I was joking. It was definitely very romantic.”

Eddie smiled so wide his eyes crinkled, and your heart jumped in your chest. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his for a long kiss before pulling back and allowing Eddie to drive off. Neither of you knew where you were going, but you didn’t care. As long as you were with Eddie, that’s all that mattered.  

Tag List: @violetrainbow412-blog @tellmehows @pastel-abyss-x @lilliandanelle @ilovereadingfanfics​ @thatnerdana​