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#not sure if I'll keep doing that way or return to the old way
pointycorgiears · 3 days
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How Garp came to be in Cross Guild's hands.
I have a little au going where Garp ends up on Karai Bari. These scenes from one of my fics explains how it happened...
****
"Is that who I think it is, Hawkeye?" Crocodile muttered, cigar grinding between his teeth.
"Yes."
Buggy shuddered into multiple parts beside Crocodile. "You're kidding! That's not really-"
"Aokiji," Mihawk finished.
"WHAT!? He's with the Blackbeard Pirates now! What is he doing here!?"
Mihawk ignored Buggy's flailing. "We will find out soon enough, it seems."
The tall, slender figure of Kuzan, the ship's captain and the once admiral of the Navy, slid along a path of ice over the breakers. He paused just short of the landing where Mihawk stood, keeping a safe distance between them without further encroaching on the island. His dark cloak stood out among the pure white of the ice sprawling from his hand and legs. "Hawkeyes Mihawk," Kuzan said, removing the dark sunglasses from his eyes. "It's been a while."
"What do you want, Aokiji?"
"I hear you're in the bounty business now." Kuzan glanced over his shoulder and waved one frigid hand, bringing forth a large block of ice. It slid along the path until it stopped right behind him. "I got something to turn in to you."
Mihawk narrowed his eyes, focusing on the massive ice block behind the slender man. His gaze pierced through it, and he looked back at Kuzan with suspicion. "Why is he still alive?"
"He might not be, if you don't thaw him out correctly. But I'll leave that up to you. Figure I'd give you the option."
"You sat off our shores for two days just to turn in a bounty?"
Kuzan shrugged. "I had to make sure it was safe to approach. I'm in Emperor Buggy's territory after all."
Mihawk glared daggers at the sneer from Kuzan as the ex-admiral looked at the clown. His voice became a little harder as he addressed Kuzan again. "If that is all you're here to do, then present your quarry and get on with it. Do not waste our time."
Kuzan smirked. "Fine. But I'll only make the deal with you. You were Garp's favorite after all."
He waved his hand and the block containing the frozen Garp slid over to Mihawk's feet on a bridge of ice. It was dripping at its edges under the hot Karai Bari sun.
"Tell you what, I'll even make this easy for you," Kuzan said. "That guy's got three crowns on his head, worth three billion berry. I'll only take one and a half billion, as long as you will mind that old man's wounds."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because I've heard you might just owe him a debt."
"My business with him is done," Mihawk growled.
"Yeah, but you're still an honorable warrior at heart," Kuzan commented. "And you're smart. You're not going to just throw away the only ally you might have in the World Government."
Mihawk studied the ex-admiral carefully. He knew Kuzan had history with Garp, and he knew the man also held reservations about the tactics used by the forces he once served. Mihawk could remember all the looks of disdain cast his way during the warlord meetings. "You're walking a dangerous line. You claim to be on Blackbeard's crew, yet you set out to bring in one of the biggest bounties all of your own accord. Now you claim you only want half Garp's worth in return for his survival? What is this game you are playing, Aokiji? Who's side are you really on?"
Kuzan returned Mihawk's cold gaze tenfold. "If I had to pick...my own. So, do we have a deal?"
****
(Later, in one of the infirmary tents...)
Mihawk turned to Garp, whose eyes were barely creaking open. There was a pained grimace on the old man's face. Mihawk removed the cloth on his head, dipping it in the warm water again before returning it. "I wasn't expecting you to awake so soon. Your strength is returning rather quickly. A good sign that your body is healing."
"Tell that to the hole in my chest," Garp grumbled.
Mihawk took the bowl and sat next to Garp on the bedside. He carefully pulled back the bandages around the wound and began applying the salve underneath.
Garp watched him with dreary eyes. "What are you doing?"
"This will help it heal without too much scarring and will keep infection out."
"You know what I mean..."
Mihawk raised his eyes to meet him for only a split second. "I'm repaying the favor."
"Ya don't owe me anything...I thought we were square..."
"When I was injured all those years ago, you didn't have to let me stay on your ship for so long, nor did you have to take me home."
Garp shook with what Mihawk believed was a laugh. "Excuses...you're just being a nice guy..."
"I know you delayed the Navy ships that came to collect me after the warlords were dissolved."
Garp looked at him. A sly grin crossed his battered face. "Nothing wrong with a headstart...not my fault they couldn't keep up with ya."
"Still, I did appreciate that. I didn't have to leave behind as much as I feared I would."
"Where are we, anyway?"
Mihawk set the bowl aside and recovered the wound. "You're on Karai Bari. Aokiji brought you here to turn you in for your bounty."
"Bastard couldn't just kill me like he should have. Gotta insult me too by cashing out...I hope you stiffed him some."
"He only asked for half."
"WHAT!? THAT-GARGH! Kuughhh…!"
Garp coughed as he sat up in surprise. Mihawk had to gently push him back down so he would not hurt himself further.
"That cheap bastard," Garp wheezed, "...can't even broker a deal correctly!"
"It was to your benefit, if that's of any comfort," Mihawk sighed. "He only wanted half in return for your safety and care. I agreed."
"Well, normally I'd say you came out on top, but you're stuck with me now. I guess ya got the short end of the stick after all."
****
Annnnnd then Garp became the Cross Guild maid. :)
If you'd like to read the whole thing, you can find it here: Hawk In An Open Cage
I love the interaction between Garp and Mihawk in the live action show, so that was the inspiration for this story.
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a-ramblinrose · 9 months
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JOMP Book Photo Challenge || August 31 || Read In August:
79. Nimona by N.D. Stevenson  ★★★★★ 80. London in Fragments: A Mudlark’s Treasures by Ted Sandling ★★★★ 81. Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans ★★★ [RR] 82. The House At Pooh Corner by A.A. Milne ★★★★ 83. Love Songs by Sara Teasdale ★★★★★ 84. The Way Spring Arrives by Yu Chen & Regina Kanyu Wang ★★★★ 85. Chivalry by Neil Gaiman & Colleen Doran ★★★★★ 86. Poems 1962-2012 by Louise Glück ★★★★ 87. Winter’s Gifts by Ben Aaronovitch ★★ 88. The Lost Spells by Robert Macfarlane ★★★★ 89. Spy x Family Vol.1 by Tatsuya Endo ★★★★ 90. Spy x Family Vol.2 by Tatsuya Endo ★★★★ 91. Spy x Family Vol.3 by Tatsuya Endo ★★★★ 92. Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets: Poems by Lord Byron ★★★ 93. Blueberry Girl by Neil Gaiman  ★★★★ 94. Women’s Work: The First 20,000 Years by Elizabeth Wayland Barber ★★★★ 95. Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett ★★★★★
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yawnderu · 8 months
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Adoration — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader
Content: fluff, pregnant!reader, horrible dad jokes.
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Our small talk was quite big to me. You know I love you, yeah? My entire life, I always wanted the most simple things. A cup of tea, a normal family, nice food, to be loved and accepted. To find comfort in someone, for the first time ever.
"Earth to Simon." You say teasingly, a hand being waved slowly near his eyes, as if to see if he was focusing on you. He gives you a questioning look, raising a blonde eyebrow stained with eyeblack.
"Seemed a bit lost there." You give his cheek a kiss and you could swear you felt it heat up right after. He returns it, of course, giving you an overly wet kiss on the cheek that makes you recoil and scrunch up your face in mock disgust, dragging a quiet laugh out of him. The sound is beautiful, something your enamored brain can never fully process no matter how many times you hear it.
"I'm here." He replies, arms wrapping around your waist as he brings you closer to his naked body, one hand now gently holding the back of your head as your cheek touches his chest.
"I'm here." He repeats, voice quieter as he looks down at you. The image of you has always been the lens in which he can see the world with love. Reserved for you— his hand trails down, running down your skin delicately before settling on your tummy. —and the life growing inside of you.
"I've been thinking about retiring." He says it so casually you take a few seconds to process, blinking a few times before looking up at him with a mix of confusion and excitement in your face.
"Really?" He doesn't blame you for not believing it— hell, he doesn't even believe it himself. His whole life has been dedicated to putting his life on the line, what else can he do? He'll find something. Anything.
"Yeah." He confirms, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as his hand keeps gently holding your stomach, hoping he can feel the baby kicking.
"There's too much to lose now that I have my girls with me." And he doesn't wanna take the risk anymore. He wants to grow old with you, and he wants to see his girl grow. Maybe even have a couple more kids later on.
His words are met with a soft peck, your hand gently running through his short, bleached hair.
"Are you sure?" He doesn't even hesitate before nodding, bringing your naked body closer to his, wanting to feel everything he missed out on his whole life.
"Already spoke with the old man. Said he'd support me either way." He chuckled softly, thinking back on his conversation with Price. The man was barely 10 years older than him, yet in a way, he was a father figure for Simon. Someone to look up to, a mentor.
He still remembers the first time you and Simon confirmed you were together, and how Price promised to keep his lips sealed despite fraternization being frowned upon. Price knew it would happen either way, looking at the way Simon's eyes softened when you were introduced to the team. The way he was always next to you, paying special attention to you during missions despite knowing you're part of the 141 because you're a capable soldier. Price would tease him in private about his obvious crush on you and Simon would simply say he's seeing things because of dementia.
"Then I'll retire too." You confirm, and before he can open his mouth to protest, you keep talking.
"I'm not risking our girl growing up without a mother. Can't imagine forcing her to deal with your bad jokes alone." You tease and the corners of his lips tilt up, eyes glistening with... something. You know that look.
"No, don't st—" You try to get up from bed and he gently pulls you closer, the same smug smile on his lips that shows he knows he's about to do something awful.
"What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?" You groan loudly and try to escape his grasp, a smile tugging at your lips as he holds you even closer, planting a bunch of kisses all over your face while you try your best not to giggle.
"Sofishticated." He says bluntly, looking down at you to see your reaction. You simply look away, trying to have a serious expression yet... his jokes are so bad they're funny. A small giggle escapes you before you're full on laughing, trying to move him away from you so you can escape the never ending nightmare of his dad jokes, his low laugh coming from somewhere behind you while he holds you closer, thinking of more jokes he read online just to tell you. You are the shelter in which I find strength to carry on. Thank you.
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triptuckers · 6 months
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keep the nightmares away - percy jackson
Request: nope Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  oh nooo what if there's only one bed........ (im a sucker for this trope and WILL use it whenever I can) Warnings:  mentions of wounds, swearing, nightmares Word count:  1.5K A/N:  yall know that audio from the rock "it's about drive it's about power we stay hungry we devour" that's me writing more fics in two days than I have in 6 months. I blame it on my percy jackson hyperfixation. enjoy!
you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open. you'd been sent on another quest and had been chased down by monsters for gods know how many times already.
everyone was tired and just wanted to go to bed. but a prophecy had predicted there would be three demigods and a fourth companion on this quest, so it wasn't easy to leave the monsters behind.
'why did we have to be four?' you say softly as you force yourself to keep on walking. 'it would be way more quiet if there were only three of us.'
percy looks over his shoulder in front of you. 'I don't think quests are ever quiet.' he says with a smile.
'you know what I mean.' you say. 'are we there yet?'
'almost.' says annabeth, who is walking with grover in front of percy, holding the map and leading the way. 'it's just over the ridge.'
'thank the gods.' you mutter.
you know annabeth is going to state the facts rather than make something sound good. and sure enough, when you reach the top of the ridge you can see a dimly lit street in the distance.
you can see the motel you're headed for, a diner, and a gas station with a small store.
you're filled with relief of the thought of finally laying down and resting your feet. you could rewrap your wounds and maybe even take a shower if you're lucky and have the energy for it.
'come on, nearly there.' says percy, reaching out and gently tugging you along by your wrist.
if you weren't so tired you'd be reeling over the fact percy is holding your wrist so gently. but all you can think of is how soft the beds would be.
when you get to the motel you're too tired to speak. you let annabeth do all of the talking.
after a few minutes she returns with two keys.
'these are the only ones they had available.' she says, giving percy one.
'come on.' says percy. 'want me to rewrap your arm?'
you nod. a few hours ago, you got your arm sliced open and had to hastily wrap it. you're not very good at it, as the cut is on the back of your upper arm and you can't see it very well.
'grover and I will check the area quickly and then we can all get some rest.' says annabeth. 'regroup in my room at 8 am tomorrow?'
'sure.' says percy while you and grover nod.
you follow percy as he's searching for the room. eventually he stops and you nearly bump into him.
'sorry.' you mutter.
'it's alright.' says percy as he unlocks the door and lets you enter first.
you stop in the door opening, looking at the room.
'what's wrong?' says percy, looking over your shoulder. 'oh.'
yeah. oh. there's only one bed. not even a sofa.
you enter the room and percy shuts the door behind him. of course there's only one bed. and you're so exhausted. you can tell percy is tired as well. he's just better at hiding it.
'come on, let me take care of your arm.' says percy.
you head into the bathroom while percy rummages around his pack for the medical kit.
'sit on the counter.' he says as he enters the bathroom with the medical kit in his hands.
you do as he instructs and rest the back of your head against the mirror. you close your eyes but open them when percy lightly taps your knee.
'need you awake for this. you can sleep after.' he says softly.
you sigh. 'fine.'
'I know you're exhausted. I'll make it quick.'
'thanks, perce.'
percy ignores the way he feels when you call him that. he wonders if you know you're the only one that ever calls him that.
he washes his hands and then gently unwraps the old bandage around your arm. he carefully cleans the cut and starts on rewrapping it, making sure he's not hurting you.
when he's almost done, he feels a weight on his shoulder. he smiles to himself, letting you doze off on his shoulder. he's nearly done, anyway.
he secures the last bit of the bandage and then nudges you awake.
'sorry.' you say, blinking a few times.
'let's get you to the bed.' says percy, offering his hand so you can hop off the counter. 'you can take the first shift.'
you frown. 'first shift?'
'sleeping in the bed.'
'where will you sleep?'
'on the floor. I'll get the pillows off of the chair.'
you shake your head. 'percy, you're tired as well. you've fought just as much as I have. you'll only make it worse by sleeping on the floor. we can share.' you say.
sharing a bed as friends, that's cool right? not a big deal. at least that's what you tell yourself.
percy studies your face. he probably looks as tired as you do.
'it's big enough for the two of us.' you say, reaching down to take off your boots.
'alright.' says percy.
there's a knock on the door and both you and percy freeze. percy reaches inside of his pocket, ready to take out riptide.
'it's me.' says annabeth on the other side. 'all clear. get some rest.'
'thanks, goodnight annabeth.' says percy, visibly relaxing.
you walk over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving enough space for percy.
'if I find you on the floor when I wake up I'll make the rest of the quest even more miserable for you.' you mumble as you close your eyes. 'don't be a gentleman.'
'noted.' says percy with a smile, laying down on the other side of the bed, careful to leave more than enough space between the two of you.
it's cool, this is fine. laying next to you in a bed. nothing that could happen, you're just friends. right?
after a while, he can tell you're asleep by the slow breathing coming from your side of the bed.
he's keeping his distance, even if it means he nearly falls off of the bed. he's mind is spinning in circles about the fact you're laying right next to him.
but eventually, he falls asleep. after all, all four of you were utterly exhausted when you reached the motel earlier in the night.
it feels like way too soon when he's woken up again. he frowns, it's still dark outside. he shifts to get comfortable again. but then he feels something hard poke him in his ribs.
'oof.' he grunts softly, then rolls over to see if you're awake. why would you punch him in the middle of the night?
but when he sees you, he noticed your face is scrunched up in agony and you're mumbling something.
he frowns and watches you move around restlessly, nearly hitting him again.
but his frown disappears soon enough. he knows the feeling all too well.
you're having a nightmare.
a bad one, by the looks of it.
gently, he reaches out and pushes a strand of sweaty hair out of your face, then nudges your shoulder.
'hey, wake up.'
in response, you curl up even more so percy shakes you again, a little harder this time.
you wake up and immediately sit up, eyes wide in panic. your hand is scrambling for you belt, where you keep your knives.
'woah, hey, it's alright you're safe, you're with me.' says percy, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.
his sea-green eyes are familiar and calm you down a little. you're breathing heavily and fully aware of percy holding on to your shoulders. you force yourself to push away from him, creating space between the two of you.
'I'm alright.' you say, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. you would not cry over something as stupid as a nightmare.
'want to talk about it?' says percy softly.
'no I'm fine.'
'talking mostly helps me.'
you sigh and start to fidget with your fingers. why does it feel so embarrassing? you're sure lots of demigods have nightmares, given what you go through on a daily basis.
'it was the gods.' you start. 'I'd failed some sort of quest and they let loose their powers on me. camp half-blood got destroyed. I couldn't find annabeth and grover. there was fire everywhere and you... fuck.'
'it's okay.' says percy softly, encouraging you to go on.
'I found you in the rubble of your cabin.' you whisper.
'shit, I'm sorry.'
'it's alright, I'm alright. you're here now.'
'you think you can try going back to sleep again?'
'yeah, I can try.'
the two of you lay down again, this time with a little less space between you.
'percy?' you say, slowly reaching out to him.
'yeah?'
'is it okay if I...?'
wordlessly, percy reaches out and pulls you against him, where you curl up against his side.
'thanks.' you say, feeling yourself relax again.
'I'll keep the nightmares away.' mumbles percy.
you smile to yourself, closing your eyes and letting percy's heartbeat lull you to sleep. you're confident nightmares wouldn't find you again. you're safe now.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max
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moonlitdesertdreams · 1 month
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Stuck like glue
Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness"
A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish.
Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader
WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction.
Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.
Word Count: 2.0k+
Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set
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You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 
The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 
“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”
 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.
“Coop?”
You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 
“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 
“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 
You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 
“Cooper! What happened to you?” 
Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 
“Do you have any on you?” 
A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”
Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.
“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 
You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 
“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 
Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 
After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 
Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 
“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”
You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”
“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”
Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”
An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 
“Open up.”
He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 
You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 
“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 
“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”
You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”
The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 
Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 
“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”
Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 
“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”
He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”
The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 
Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 
The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 
He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 
“You ain’t gonna share?” 
You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”
A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 
“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”
He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”
You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate
“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 
His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”
You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”
Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”
You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”
“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”
You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”
Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, back pressed against his chest. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”
He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.
“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”
The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”
You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.
“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”
Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.
“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”
Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  
Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.
Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 
“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.
The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 
“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
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heich0e · 11 days
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thinking about single!dad osamu and little miya who calls you babe. the little guy is sitting in his favourite seat (his seat—as all the staff and regulars have come to call it) at the counter at onigiri miya one day after school. he's entertaining himself, colouring with some crayons that samu keeps behind the counter for him, while papa wraps up work for the day and chats with him.
but he's not particularly chatty today.
"hey, tiny," osamu calls, leaning over the counter to see what his son is working on. "yer awful quiet today."
he's barely made any progress on the picture of the onigiri godzilla destroying tokyo he'd been so excited about earlier.
"papa," his son says after a moment's consideration. "when's babe's day?"
osamu quirks a brow.
"babe's day?"
his son scrunches up his face a little, like he's thinking quite hard about it. "there's mother's day, 'n father's day. when's babe's day?"
osamu feels his heart squeeze in his chest, in affection as much as it is bittersweet. he's not altogether surprised by the question, considering father's day had just passed, but he's not sure he knows how to answer it either. he lifts his hand and adjusts his onigiri miya cap as he considers how to tackle the surprisingly complex question his four year old had put to him.
"well... there isn't a babe's day, buddy," samu starts, and immediately his son looks at him in abject horror at this shocking bit of news.
"but why?"
samu sucks a bit of air through his teeth. "well, not everyone has a babe. remember? we've talked about this."
osamu's son pouts a little. "but that's not fair."
"what's not fair?" samu leans against the counter on his elbows and cocks his head to the side.
"babe deserves a day too because we love her."
that pang in osamu's chest threatens to cleave him in two.
"yer right, buddy. we do love her, huh?"
samu's son bobs his little head in a somewhat sad nod.
samu reaches clear over the counter and plucks his son up from his seat, bringing him over to his side and resting him against his hip. the little boy grips his father's t-shirt as he clings to him, resting his head on osamu's shoulder.
"tell ya what," he whispers down to his son, bouncing him lightly, "how 'bout we make our own day fer babe?"
the little boy stares up at him with stars in his eyes. "really?"
"really," samu answers with a laugh. "you finish that picture fer her, 'n i'll get her some flowers, and then we'll make her breakfast in bed and take her out to do all her favourite things that day."
"when?" his son asks, wiggling excitedly in his grip. "when?"
samu racks his brain as he tries to recall what your schedule looks like in the coming weeks.
and then, in just the way you always seem to, you walk in right when they need you most. the bell above the shop door chimes signalling your entrance, and both of the miyas eyes go right to you—you smile brightly when you see them both.
"hi boys!" you call to them, waving as you approach.
"babe!" the littlest miya cheers, returning your wave excitedly.
samu leans down to whisper in his ear, quietly slipping onigiri godzilla off the countertop and tucking it away out of sight. "babe's day's gotta be a secret okay? don't spill it!"
his son nods determinedly, but truthfully osamu knows the secret is more than likely to be revealed before the big day. he smiles anyway, pressing a little kiss to his son's forehead.
little miya immediately reaches for you on the other side of the counter once you reach them, and you take him from his father's arms into your own—squishing him tightly before returning him to his seat and taking the one beside it (the one that now everyone has started calling yours.)
you fall into easy conversation with the two of them—samu stopping to chat whenever he can between customers—talking about your day and asking about theirs as samu serves you both your favourite onigiri.
"hey, babe," samu says as he sets a plate down in front of you, and you look up from the picture you and his son are making together with a smile and a hum. "you busy on saturday?"
he and his son share a secretive little look that's less than subtle. it makes you laugh.
"never too busy for you two," you answer easily, and beside you little miya grins.
"great," samu replies. "keep it free fer us."
a customer approaches the other side of the counter and osamu has to step away, but he can still overhear bits and pieces of your conversation with his son even as he goes about preparing a new order.
"...a surprise? for me?"
"mmmhmmm! cause we love babe lots and lots!"
samu laughs to himself as he tucks a small stack of napkins into the takeout bag, because his son couldn't be more right about that. he hands the takeout bag to the waiting customer with a smile, and turns to watch you and his little boy colouring away at your picture together as the afternoon light streams in through the shop windows behind you—nearly identical looks of concentration on your faces (though you don't have any stray rice stuck to yours.)
and he can't help but think he'd make every day babe's day if he could.
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zegrasdrysdale · 1 month
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matthew knies smut — losing ur v card to him
[ helping hand ] m. knies
Tumblr media
paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader
summary : Matthew helps his best friend out after she asks him to take her virginity
warning(s) : smut ! loss of virginity, virgin!reader, light dirty talk, slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it tbh) oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, protected sex, use of pet names during sex (pretty girl, baby, etc.), multiple orgasms
author’s note : felt like writing something cute so i decided to tackle this request and make it as cute as i could. this is my first time writing for kniesy so if it’s bad then pls tell me lol
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Being a 20-year-old virgin sucks. Every time she tries to hook up with a guy, she blurts out that she’s “never done this before” and it scares him away. Needless to say, she is getting very tired of being a virgin. She's loves sex, but she's never gone all the way with a guy.
Tonight was just another reminder that she's never been fucked. She thought that after her date, he'd take her back to his apartment and she'd finally lose her virginity. Then he said that his mom was going to be home soon just as things started getting heated, right after she had said that she's never gone all the way.
It's a tiring pattern.
She's frustrated, and frustration means stomping up to her longtime best friend's Toronto apartment a little before eleven. She pounds her fist on Matthew's door then waits. There are light footsteps behind the door before it's pulled open.
Matthew looks like he just woke up, and she feels bad. His Toronto hockey shirt is a little wrinkled and he's wearing sweats. His hair is a complete disaster. "Did I wake you?" she questions.
He yawns, but shakes his head no. "I was just closing my eyes," he tells her. "I thought you were out on a date or something. Why are you here?"
"You'll never guess what happened," she sighs as she walks past him into his apartment. "I did it again."
Matthew laughs and shuts the door behind her. "You need to stop," he comments. "You're never going to lose it if you keep telling guys that you haven't gone all the way. You're twenty."
"I know!" she groans as she plops down onto his couch. "It's like a get scared or something and it just comes out. I wish I could just get it over with and then it won't come out."
He sits beside her and she looks up at him. "Don't rush it," he tells her. "It's not all that anyway. Just wait until you find someone you trust and genuinely like."
A light bulb flicks on in her head. She sits up and turns her body to face Matthew. "Will you?"
"Will I what?"
"Sleep with me so I'm not a virgin anymore," she finishes. He raises his eyebrows and looks like he's about to object. "I mean, I trust you with everything I have. You're my best friend. You're not bad looking. I've known you for years, Matthew. I'd be okay if you did this for me. It wouldn't change anything with us."
Matthew thinks about it. She knows by the way he sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair. "You're sure about this?" he questions. "Because I don't want to do this then-"
She rolls his eyes in frustration and cups his jaw. She pulls him into a kiss, and it surprises her when she feels her heart beat out of her chest when her lips meet his. Even Matthew is thrown off by the kiss. He immediately pulls back. She drops her hands to her lap.
"I'm not going to regret it, Matt," she tells him as her eyes meet his. Have his eyes always been this pretty and blue? She's never been this close to see how blue they are. "I promise. It might bring us closer as friends if we do this. I'm not going to stop being your friend because you slept with me."
He still doesn't seem very convinced. "This is going to change us," he tells her. "No matter what. I just want both of us to be ready for that."
With a nod, her eyes flicker down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. "I know," she replies. "Just ... please. I'll never ask you for anything ever again if you do this for me."
Matthew searches her face for any signs that she doesn't want this. He won't find any. If she's going to lose her virginity to anyone, she wouldn't mind losing it to her best friend. She wants this.
He doesn't say "okay" or anything like that. All he does is grab her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If this is what you really want then I'll do it," he says to her, voice slightly higher than a whisper.
"I really want this," she confirms. "Seriously."
His eyes drop to her lips before he leans in and gently presses his lips to hers, and her eyes flutter shut. Her heart beats out of her chest with how soft and gently he kisses her.
The kisses don't immediately turn heated and needy. Matthew makes sure of that. When they do though, she climbs onto his lap in the red minidress that she's wearing. She straddles his thighs and wraps her arms loosely around his neck. Matthew's hands drop to the bare skin on her thighs.
Her heels clatter to the carpeted floor beneath them with a thud. Her fingers find a home and curl in his locks. She tugs gently and a soft noise comes from Matthew. She smiles into the kiss that follows and tucks this piece of information away for later.
She traps his bottom lip between her teeth and pulls back. She watches it snap back into place. Matthew looks up at her and she sees that his eyes have darkened a bit. There's a dark fire between them and she can tell he's trying to hold himself back.
"Pretend it's not me," she tells him as her hands drag down his neck and chest until they come to a rest on his torso. She play with the hem of his t-shirt. "I can tell, Matt. You're holding back because it's me."
Matthew shakes his head. "I'm holding back because I want to do this right," he replies. "It's not because it's you. I want to make sure that it's perfect for you."
"Then don't hold back," she whispers to him as she attaches her lips to his jaw right under his ear. "It'll be perfect no matter what."
A shaky sigh passes Matthew's kiss-bruised lips. He kisses the swell of her ear and she keeps working at his jaw.
Before she realizes what's happening, Matthew slides his hands to the back of her thighs and stands up. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "It's insane how easily you were able to just pick me up like that," she comments.
"I work out everyday," Matthew replies as he makes his way down the hallway to his bedroom. "Sometimes twice a day. I lay hits on grown men that weigh as much as I do or heavier for a living. I hope that I can lift someone up that is nearly a foot shorter than me and weighs less than what I bench."
She can't contain the giggle that rises in her throat as he crosses the threshold into his room. "That's kind of hot of you, Matt," she admits. "I mean, I don't know how you're single when you bench more than I weigh."
He kicks the door shut behind him and gently sets her down so she's flat on her feet. She sees the flush in his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. She smiles and gets on her tiptoes to instigate another kiss. Matthew has to lean down to kiss her because of the heigh difference between them. His hands rest on her cheeks and she rests against the door.
They stand there for what feels like an eternity. She's almost certain that the lace panties she has on under the dress are ruined. She hasn't be able to stop thinking about Matthew's fingers on her thighs while they were in the couch, not to mention the fact that he was able to pick her up with almost no effort.
Her fingers curl around the hem of his t-shirt and she pulls at it. "Off," she mumbles against his lips. "Matt, please. Off."
The kiss breaks and Matthew reaches down to pull the fabric over his head. Her eyes rake his body and it's very obvious that he works out every day. Her fingers trace his abs and she bites her bottom lip.
Okay, maybe he's more attractive than she's let herself admit. She's never really allowed herself to look at him like this. She's never let herself admire him like this.
Matthew hooks his fingers under the very thin straps that sit on her shoulders. She looks up at him and notices how focused he is on his actions. He pulls the straps off her shoulders and lets the dress fall so it pools at her ankles. She's in her strapless bra and matching panties. She notices Matthew's eyes drink her in.
She puts her hands on his chest and gently pushes him in the direction of his bed. She kicks the dress off so she can follow him. As soon as Matthew sits back on the bed, she crawls onto his lap. Her knees bracket his thighs. She leans in and ravishes his mouth with hers. One of his hands finds its way to her curls and he holds the back of her head so she can’t break the heated kiss.
Without realizing she does it, she rolls her hips against his. He hums and his other hand comes down on her bare waist.
A surge of confidence overcomes her and she reaches behind her. She unhooks her bra and lets the red lace fall between them. She tosses it somewhere at the same time Matthew breaks the kiss.
Her entire body shakes with nerves.
It’s just Matthew. They’ve been friends since his first year at Minnesota. Best friends since his sophomore year. She visited him earlier in the season and fell in love with Canada so she moved into an apartment down the street from him.
She can do this.
Matthew lifts her head up and says, “I’ve got you. Okay? I have you. Whatever you want.”
“I want you,” she tells him. “Please. I need you.”
He moves back on the bed and flips them over so he hovers over her. Her curls create a halo around her head. Matthew thumbs her swollen lips and trails it down over her chin, over her chest, between her breasts, and down her stomach until his fingers rest at the waistband of her panties. Goosebumps follow his fingers down her upper body.
She can feel the bulge in his pants so she bucks her hips up to grind her clothed core against the bulge. “Shit,” he gasps. “You can’t just do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll come before either of us are ready.”
She lets out a light laugh. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” she teases.
“Shut up,” he mumbles before shutting her up himself with a deep kiss. She smiles and hooks her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.
She pushes his sweatpants down and over his ass. He helps her out and kicks them off.
When she tries to put her hand in his boxers, Matthew stops her. He breaks the kiss and shakes his head. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. I’m going to make sure you feel good and make sure you’re comfortable, okay?” he says to her.
“Okay,” she replies, voice barely above a whisper.
With her permission, Matthew hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body. He tosses them to the floor and she lets her knees fall open.
Matthew attaches his lips to her jaw, then slowly trails his lips down her body. He makes a quick stop when he gets to her breasts. He gives each one a little attention and she lets out a soft noise. She bites her lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises.
He lies on his stomach and throws her legs over his broad shoulders. She watches as he presses soft kisses to her leg trailing from her inner knee and up her inner thigh. He stops right before he gets to her core.
“Already so wet for me,” he comments. She nods and grabs a pillow to rest her head on so she doesn’t get a crick in her neck.
That’s when Matthew slides a finger through her soaked folds. A whine passes her lips and she looks down at him with her eyes. He teases her entrance and she gasps, “I- Matthew. Don’t tease please. Do something.”
“Didn’t think you were a begger, pretty girl,” he replies. She shoots him a glare and he laughs.
She’s about to say something to him when he wraps his lips around her clit. “Oh my- fuck” is what comes out of her mouth instead. Matthew hums and sends vibrations through her entire body. He slowly pushes a finger into her and her back arches off the bed.
Matthew’s free hand slides up her body and cups one of her tits. She didn’t pick Matthew to be a boob guy, but today is full of surprises.
Soft pants pass her lips as Matthew keeps using his mouth and fingers to bring her closer to an orgasm. He adds a second finger and her hands fly to his hair. Her breathing has gotten extremely labored and soft noises consistently pass her lips.
He’s so careful with his movements, so precise. He knows what he’s doing, and she’s not at all surprised that he does. She didn’t realize just how much he knew. Despite never actually hooking up before, it’s like he knows her entire body and what she likes.
Once a third finger is inside of her, Matthew curls his fingers in a “come here” motion. She gasps and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach. “Matt,” she groans. “I- Matthew.”
“Let me hear you,” he tells her. “Wanna hear you when you come on my fingers. Can you do do that for me?”
She nods and hums. “Yeah,” she breathes out.
“Go ahead, pretty girl,” Matthew says. “Come for me. I can feel how close you are.”
His lips are back on her clit and she’s coming seconds later.
Her back arches off the mattress as her walls clench around his fingers. Her body turns into jelly as he fingers her through what’s probably the strongest orgasm she’s ever had. She swears she blacks out.
Her breathing is extremely labored as Matthew withdraws his fingers. She whimpers at the loss and watches him crawl up her body when her vision comes back. He smiles when he sees how out of it she probably looks.
Matthew peppers her cheek with soft kisses as she comes to.
“You okay?” he asks. “Can you do one more?”
“Mhm,” she hums. “Want you inside me, Matt. Please. I need you.”
He captures her lips in a soft kiss and she groans when she tastes herself on his lips.
It’s a very quick kiss. Matthew reaches over into his bedside drawer and pulls out a tiny foil package. He puts it between his teeth as he pushes his boxers off his body. She bites her lip as Matthew’s dick pops out of the confines of the boxers.
She accidentally saw his dick one time before now, and it looked nothing like it does right now. “Jesus, Matt,” she gasps. “Is it gonna fit?”
Matthew laughs and slides the condom onto his dick. “I promise it’ll fit,” he tells her.
He hover over her between her legs. The tip of his dick lines up with her entrance and she shakes. Her heart races in her chest and she stares up at the pretty boy above her. “Slow,” she tells him. “Okay? I don’t know-”
“Tell me if you need me to stop or if it hurts,” he interrupts. “I’ll move at your pace, okay? I have you.”
She nods. “Go.”
Matthew slowly pushes into her. She gasps as the unfamiliar stretch and grasps onto his biceps. The deeper he goes, the more it hurts. She pushes through though and pain eventually turns into pleasure.
He moves so slow though that it’s almost painful. She wants him to ruin her but she wants to be able to walk in the morning. Whatever that will look like.
She reaches up and slides her hair into Matthew’s hair. His eyes lock with her as he bottoms out in her. Her lips are pressed in a line. “Okay?” he asks.
With a nod, she says, “I’m okay. Give me a second. You’re fucking big, Matt. Damn.”
He laughs. “That’s not my fault,” he replies. “Most women I hook up with like it.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, asshole,” she retorts. “I said I needed a second.”
Matthew laughs again and she pulls him down into a kiss to shut him up. He licks into her mouth and she groans.
Feeling ready, she rolls her hips. One of Matthew’s hands rests on her waist and he meets her movements.
It’s slow, but it feels good. He slowly but deeply thrusts into her. She moans into Matthew’s mouth and he swallows every noise. Her hands slide from his hair to his back. She gently digs her nails into his skin.
He speeds his movements up a bit and she throws her head back against the pillows. “Fuck,” she gasps. “God. Matt.”
“Okay, baby?” he asks. “Good to keep going?”
She nods. “Like you mean it,” she pants. Matthew’s smile reaches his ears.
Matthew throws one of her legs over his shoulder and is able to move deeper into her at the new angle. She cries out his name and he attaches his lips to her neck. He’s covering her entire body at this point. It’s not only his dick that’s big. Matthew himself is a bigger guy.
He slows his movements but continues to bury his cock in her. The knot forms again in the pit of her stomach.
“Matt, I-”
“Me too,” he interrupts. “This is about you. I’m not gonna come until you come on my cock, pretty girl.”
She feels tears in her eyes as she tries to keep herself from coming. It feels too good and she doesn’t want it to end yet.
Especially since this is probably the first and last time she gets this from Matthew. She wants it to last.
Matthew slides a hand between them and as soon as his fingers find her clit again, she comes.
His name is on her lips as he fucks her through what is definitely the strongest orgasm of her life. Her entire body shudders as she comes. Her vision goes white for a hot second and she completely melts against the mattress beneath her. Her legs fall to the bed.
He comes into the condom before he pulls out of her. They’re both panting messes as he ties off the condom and throws it out. She very lazily crawls under the covers and Matthew joins her.
There’s a comfortable silence between them as they both recover from their highs. She finally gains feeling back in all her extremities and looks over at him.
“Thank you,” she weakly says.
“For?”
“Doing that for me. It was fun. I enjoyed it.”
Matthew sits up in bed and leans back against the headboard just as she went to curl up next to him. “I should’ve said something before we did that,” he admits to her.
She sits up and holds the blankets under her arms to keep herself covered. “What?”
He bites his kiss-bruised bottom lip for a second. “I have feelings for you,” he confesses. “Genuine feelings for you and I feel guilty for saying yes before telling you that.”
A day full of surprises.
She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. There is a reason she asked him of all her friends to do this for her. She’s always known he was attractive, a genuine guy and an incredible hockey player.
She’s damn lucky that Matthew agreed to have sex with her.
Matthew looks terrified. She smiles and drops her head to his shoulder. “You should see the look on your face,” she laughs.
“I’m being serious,” he tells her.
“I know,” she replies. Her chin rests on his shoulder. “I like you too. Why do you think I asked you to do this and not someone else?”
He blinks. “I thought you were just tired of being a twenty year old virgin,” he flatly states.
“There was that but I wanted it to be you,” she admits. “I guess I was just shooting my shot.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Matthew laughs.
She crawls onto his lap and lays on him. “When do I get one of those cool jackets the wives and girlfriends have?”
“You want one?”
“I do,” she tells him as she looks up at him. “Is that okay? If I got one?”
Matthew smiles and nods. “I’ll get you one.”
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MASTERLIST
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msgexymunson · 9 months
Text
Sammy's Mom
Description: Eddie Munson finds it difficult to get over his fantasies about you, his best friend's mom. He tries so hard to keep it in check. The only problem? Sammy's mom has got it going on.
A/N: kind of a little nod to the song "Stacey's Mom" (which is 20 years old now BTW, so if you remember it it's time to take aspirin for your back pain), I've written too much older Eddie in my time so trying to balance it out, as I've given him far too much rizz! And his friend is called Sammy as I've watched a lot of Supernatural recently. Please comment and reblog if you enjoy this my sweethearts.
Warnings: where do I start lmao, NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll slap you with a wet fish, age gap, Eddie's 21, reader is early 40s, MILF reader, reader referred to as 'Mrs F' a few times no first name given, perv Eddie, voyeurism, male masturbation, very slight foot fetish (nothing actually happens), oral both male and female receiving, p in v unprotected sex, slight anal play, cum eating.
10.5k words
Masterlist 
"UNCLE EDDIE!!" 
Johnny's little six year old voice rings out like a bell in the front yard. You look out the window and see him running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards a young man getting out of a beat up van. 
"Hey Squirt!" Crouching to his knees, he accepts your kids embrace, then stands with him, swinging him around in the air as Johnny shrieks uncontrollably, unbridled joy brimming from his chest. The next minute he's got Johnny on his shoulders, walking around the house to the back yard. 
You smile at their antics, warmed at the gesture. Eddie has always been good with your youngest son when he comes to visit Sammy, your oldest. It was nice, him having another man around to look up to, even if he really needs to remember to watch his language. 
Voices sound from the back yard; Eddie had found Sammy and as usual, they were loud and laughing. Not that you minded at all, any laughter those kids could get was music to your ears. 
You grab your sunglasses and perch them on top of your head, searching around for your gardening tools. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and you wanted to be near the kids at least. Grasping your pruners and gardening gloves in one hand and a cooler in the other, you make your way to the rear of the house. 
Pushing the back door open with a hip, you see Sammy is already in the pool. Johnny is still talking a mile a minute at Eddie, as he sits on the edge of a lawn chair. 
Well, he's certainly grown up. 
Eddie's shirtless, sitting there in his long black swimming trunks. There's a new tattoo on his ribs but you can't make it out from this distance. He's looking toned; his jaw is sharper, with shoulders broader than you remember. He's become a man. 
When the hell did that happen? 
Shaking your head out of your temporary revelry, you walk over to the pair of them. The snippets of conversation you overhear as you approach widen the smile on your face. 
"So, you think of any new monsters for me big guy?" 
Johnny beams at Eddie with pride. "Yeah! So right, it's like, a big bat thing right? With metal bits all over, and- and- then it's got these huuuuge teeth, and- and- when he opens its mouth the teeth fly out, right, and turn into bats!!" 
He starts excitedly flapping his arms around and screeching as Eddie laughs and ruffles his hair.
"Bats huh? That's sick. Pretty metal, squirt. Have to add that to the campaign." 
Johnny beams at the praise, staring down at his hand, trying to work out his fingers, then flashes the devil horn hand at him triumphantly. 
"Johnny honey, do you want to play in the pool? Give Uncle Eddie a chance to breathe?" 
"Yeah! Can I do cannonballs? Can I can I can I?" 
His enthusiasm always brings a smile to your face. "Sure thing honey, just don't go in the deep end, 'K?" 
"Kay!" He flashes a thousand watt smile at you and runs off, calling to his brother. 
Your gaze returns to Eddie, who you are sure was just checking you out. His eyes flick to yours almost guiltily. 
"Brought some beers out for you both. Here." Passing him the cooler, your hands brush briefly, the slight touch running a shiver down your spine despite the heat. 
"Thanks Mrs F." 
Eddie licks his lips and you trace the movement with your eyes.
"Mom! What are you wearing?" 
Sammy has exited the pool, dripping water everywhere. You look down at your outfit. You were wearing a two piece, slightly skimpier than your usual swimwear, and a pair of jean hotpants. 
"Sammy love, it's hot. I'm in my backyard. What am I supposed to do? Dress like a nun?" 
Eddie snorts a laugh next to you. 
"But you're all… exposed mom." 
"Sammy, shut up. Your mom can wear what she wants." 
"Yeah? You're only saying that because you-"
But you're destined to never hear the end of that sentence as Eddie pushes him into the pool. Water splashes everywhere, and Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. The gesture has you staring yet again, looking at the skin on his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobs. A mad idea enters your head; what if you just darted your tongue out and licked over it? Decorated that delicate skin with kisses? Nipped at the sides of his throat with your teeth?
Eddie makes eye contact with you then, and you quickly look away. He was sure you were eyeing him up, almost certain of it. Hell, he's been staring at you for years, mapping your curves with his eyes, knowing he'll never get a chance to feel them under his hands, but the look you just gave him made his stomach twist.
Before your thoughts can go any further you tear yourself away and over to the rose bushes. You deadhead the rose bush as if your life depends on it, furiously snipping and cutting, as if you're trying to trim back the impure thoughts you're having. 
After a while, the bushes are looking a lot neater. Stepping back, you remove your gardening gloves and swipe the sweat beads on your brow with the back of your hand. 
"Mrs F, you wanna beer?" 
You turn to see Eddie laying on a sun lounger, waving a cold one. As you walk towards him he stands up to hand it to you. 
"That a new tattoo Eddie?" You ask, pointing to his abdomen. He looks taken aback by your question but responds nonetheless. 
"Yeah, you like it?" 
Your hand drifts towards him almost instinctively, only realising when his muscles tense under your soft touch. It's a scorpion, surrounded in a wreath of flames. Tracing it with your fingers, you circle it slowly. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest. A slow moan escapes Eddie's lips which pulls you out of wherever the hell you were heading. The heat must have gotten to your head. Pulling back your fingers, you respond.
"Yeah, I like it. Metal." 
Looking up around him through your lashes, your eyes meet his. He looks flushed, cheeks heating at your stare. 
"You OK Eddie?" 
"Y-yeah, fine. I'm gonna have a dip in the pool." 
He shuffles awkwardly off, nearly bent double. All his strange stance does is draw attention to the tent in his swimming trunks that has appeared. It's really rather large; to your amazement, you can't seem to take your eyes off it. Eddie dives into the pool, swimming over to your son. 
Did I just do that? 
You shake your head, banishing thoughts of Eddie's package, and head off to the kitchen to clean some dishes. 
As Eddie rushes into the pool, he's wishing the cool water would shrink the raging hard on he just got. 
Fuck, you look so good today. That skimpy bikini top barely covering the curves of your tits; them damn near spilling out of the top. Those tiny shorts, framing your hips and ass perfectly. Then you had to go and touch him. That had him nearly busting in his pants. He can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. A crazy thought he shouldn't be entertaining. 
He dips his head under the water trying to cool the blood that had rushed to his cheeks. 
You had to be at least 40. Sammy's Dad had been out of the picture for a while, he knew that much. He couldn't help but wonder if you were a little lonely; maybe that's why you had been flirting with him. Or it was entirely Eddie's imagination and he just needs to jerk off and get it out of his system. 
As he gets out of the water, shaking his hair like a dog, he thinks he sees you looking at him through the kitchen window, but he can't be sure. 
"Dude, why have you got a boner?" Sammy points at him from the water, forcing Eddie to cup his erection, trying to hide it from prying eyes. 
"I can't help it!" He whisper shouts, cheeks flushing anew, "your mom's hot!" 
"Eddie! Don't say that, that's gross!" Sammy slings back, pulling a disgusted face.
"Hey it's not, she's a total fox, what can I do, it's like, biological, she's a babe!" 
Little did he know you can hear every word, pressing your lips together firmly to suppress a laugh as you dry up a cup in the kitchen. 
"She's like, really old, and she's my mom for God's sake!" 
"Hey, rude, she's not that old. You think she's into younger guys?" You can hear the smile in his voice, he's clearly just trying to wind Sammy up now, but your thighs clench together at the thought. The cup in your hands is dry as a bone right now. 
"Eddie shut the f-" 
"What's a boner?" The little voice is clear and loud, cutting through the argument. 
A loud laugh shoots from your chest uncontrollably. You try to mask it with your hand but there's nothing you can do, it's out there now. 
Eddie's head whips around to face the house, flicking water droplets in its wake. 
"Oh shit." It's low, but loud enough to hear. 
Making your way back outside, you call out to Johnny to save either of them answering the awkward question.
"Come on kid, you want a snack?" 
"Yeah mommy! Shit!" Eddie's mouth drops open. 
"What did I say about copying Eddie" you ask sternly. 
He parrots back in a sing-song voice, "don't copy Eddie, Eddie is dirty." 
"That's right. Come on, inside." He runs past you in the way only a child can, feet flat on the floor slapping on the concrete.
Eddie steps a little closer to you.
"I'm so sorry Mrs F it won't-" 
"Hey, it's OK," you reply, stepping to meet him. You drop your voice lower, hand up as if you're telling a secret. On autopilot, Eddie leans towards you to hear your whisper, close enough to smell your shampoo. 
"Sometimes mommy's dirty too." 
Turning on your heel, you walk back into the house without a glance, leaving Eddie with his jaw on the floor.
Where the hell did that come from?
You try to steady your breathing as you go inside. That was reckless of you, he's half your age. You admonish yourself, telling your brain that you need to stop flirting with the poor boy. 
Eddie's frozen on the spot. It's clear you overheard their little conversation, and then you come out with something like that? It's definitely not his imagination at this point. For a crazy moment he thinks he might actually have a shot at you. 
Stop it. She's Sammy's mother for Christ's sake. Pull yourself together Munson. 
"Imma take a quick shower if that's alright and get, er, changed. You wanna work on the campaign some more?" Eddie says it over his shoulder to Sammy, not daring to turn. He's never been so hard in all his life. 
"Sure, just stay out of my mom's room." 
Eddie laughs nervously, "who do you think I am?" As he walks to the house. 
"Eddie fuckin' Munson." Sammy mutters under his breath. 
As he stumbles into the house with his bundle of clothes over his crotch, he catches another glimpse of you, on your hands and knees searching in a cupboard. 
"Honey, I don't think we've got any animal crackers left." You say over your shoulder to a pouting Johnny. 
You're barely contained in your jean hot pants, the denim tight against your perfect ass. 
"Fuckin' hell" Eddie mutters under his breath, tearing his eyes away to make his way upstairs. 
He practically runs up the stairs, tripping slightly on the last step. Flinging his body into the bathroom, he shuts and locks the door. 
Five seconds later he's in the shower with his hand wrapped around his slippery cock, tugging on it as if it were his last day on earth. 
Fuck, why does she have to be so fine? 
He's whimpering and stifling breathy moans as he cums hard in less than five minutes. Shame snags its sneaky claws into his heart then, as he hangs his head under the shower head. He needs to get it together before the thought of you ruins him completely. 
********************
Knocking on your eldest son's door, he calls out for you to enter. Both him and Eddie are sitting on the bed, a pile of books and notes between them. You do your best to ignore the smoky weed smell as you address him.
"Sammy, I'm heading out, you still OK to take care of Johnny?" 
"Woah, Mrs F you look h-" Sammy elbows him in the ribs before he can finish the sentence, "-very nice." Eddie finishes lamely. 
A smile spreads over your face at his words. Your date tonight was nothing special, not really, but the need growing between your legs needed to be sorted out somehow. So, you'd dressed to impress; a red figure hugging dress, ending just at the knee, with matching slingbacks. Your hair was down, hanging past your shoulders in soft curls. 
"Mom, I'm going to Tiffany's, to stay over, remember?" Sammy responds, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at you.
"That was tonight?" Well, fuck. "Your grandma's coming to pick Johnny up at 9, can't you stay until then? 
"I can watch him." 
You both turn to look at Eddie. He looks just as surprised as you two at his words.
"I can watch him, no problem. I ain't got anywhere to be tonight."
Eddie doesn't know why he offered. Well, in part he did. He might get to see you again in that dress later. 
"Thanks Eddie, you're a lifesaver. I can pay-" 
"Oh no, don't worry about it." He flashes a grin which does something to your insides, melting them just a little.
"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Johnny's downstairs watching TV, he's had dinner, just need to wait for my mom to pick him up. You sure it's OK?" 
"Of course, it's no problem." 
"OK, well make yourself at home." You give him a winning smile of your own which makes his face flush red. 
"Oh, and Sammy?" 
"Yeah mom?" 
"Use protection." 
"Mom!" 
You laugh and shut the door, heading off to your date. 
********************
The date was a total bust, not that you'd expected anything less. Greg from accounting was nice, sure; kind of handsome, in a middle aged balding kind of way. A reliable sort of guy. Then, when the dinner was over and he kissed you, you knew there was no way it was going to go any further. So, you'd refused his invitation to go to a bar, made your excuses and got a cab home. 
Standing outside your house, you look at the time. 9:30. Rock and roll. You huff into the humid night air at how old you must seem right now, and open your front door. 
"Eddie!" 
Sprawled on the sofa, manspreading, sits Eddie. A beer rests on the coffee table, and the TV is blaring out some horror film. 
He scrambles to his feet looking like he's about to be told off. 
"Mrs F, sorry, erm, your mom's not here yet, she called saying she was running late-" 
As if on cue, there's a knock at the door. You open it, and see your mom standing there, pushing past you in a cloud of perfume. 
"Hey love, so sorry I'm late!" She looks at you, then Eddie. "Is this your date?" 
Blushing a furious red, you shake your head. 
"Oh, no this is Sammy's friend, he was watching Johnny for a bit." 
"Oh, the young man I spoke to on the phone. Shame, he's very handsome." She winks at you. 
"Mom!" 
Eddie looks like he's about to die from blood loss; his face is so drained it's ghostly white. 
"I-I'll go get squirt," he stumbles out awkwardly. 
"Mom, please behave." You whisper when he's left the room.
"I'm behaving! I thought you were on a date, what happened?" 
"He wasn't my type." 
"Well, you should find someone who is. How long has it been?" 
You run your hand through your hair, feeling a little more confrontational than usual due to the alcohol in your veins. 
"Mom, just drop it. I'm fine!" 
"OK, OK! That babysitter is a fine looking young man-" 
"Mom!" 
"Mommy!" You turn just in time for Johnny to grab your legs in a hard hug, squishy cheek pushing against your thigh. 
"We went on an adventure! I'm a Knight, I saved the lady! There was gobbins and stuff!" His little eyes shine, staring at Eddie in pure adoration. 
"Really? Well done! Sounds amazing love. Go on, go with nanna. I love you." 
"OK! Love you mom! Bye Uncle Eddie!" He runs over to him and grabs his legs fiercely. Eddie ruffles his hair in response.
"Night squirt. Or should I say Sir Johnny the Just?" 
"Yeah! Imma hero!" He beams and runs off to grasp your mother's hand, regaling her of his adventures. 
"I'll see you later mom," you say, passing her Johnny's overnight bag by the door. 
As the door shuts, the only sounds are coming from the gristly movie on the TV until Eddie switches it off. Silence. 
"Mrs F, I only opened the beer after I put him to bed, I swear-" 
"Hey, it's fine, don't worry. Thanks for staying longer, I appreciate it." 
"Oh, it's fine. My trailers empty anyway, and you have cable." He smiles sheepishly at you. 
"I told you, make yourself at home. Finish your beer." 
Shoes are kicked off to join the jumble at the front door, and you rub some life back into your aching heels. Eddie's staring at your feet and he can't figure out why. He's never had a thing for feet, but yours? Yours he'd happily have running over his body, in his mouth, on his cock. He's almost ashamed at how just the slightest bit of your flesh on show has him practically drooling. 
You're oblivious to Eddie's perverse thoughts however. Tonight was not what you wanted, and it makes you huff aloud at the thought. 
"You alright Mrs F?" Eddie asks, concern in his voice as he sits back down on the couch, trying his hardest not to stare at your cleavage. 
"Yeah I'm-" why are you lying? "no, actually I'm not. Not the night I was expecting." When you flash a weak smile at Eddie, it's not returned. He looks worried almost. 
"Wanna talk about it?" 
It's sweet of him to ask, and you're about to brush it off but he just looks so invested in your welfare that it takes you aback briefly. 
"Sure. Hang on a minute." You pad barefoot to the kitchen and grab a beer, returning to the living room to sit on the couch beside him. 
Eddie is trying to tell himself he's just being nice. It's not just an excuse to stay. It's difficult to believe his own thoughts however when your dress is riding up your thigh like that.
The very air between you both seems thick and laced with unanswered questions, tension real and palpable. 
"So, Sir Johnny the Just?" You ask, to try and clear the closing space. 
"Yeah," Eddie grins, face lighting up at the mention of your boy, "I gave him the name. Made a little one shot for him, you know, fought some goblins, saved a damsel in distress. He's got a knack for D&D." 
Your eyes glisten at that.
"Thanks, he really looks up to you. It's nice, him having some guys around." 
"Can I ask, what happened to… Mr F?" He knows he's crossing a line here, but he's so curious, and Sammy never talks about it. 
"He left me. I was pregnant with Johnny, and he met some blonde twig, had an affair." 
"Oh, I'm so fuckin' sorry." 
You shrug. It's trauma, yes, but it's passed. A wound that has long since closed over the years, scarring but healing. You sip your beer and ask a line crossing question of your own.
"So, no girlfriend then? Since you're free on a Saturday night?" 
You're not sure where that came from, but it's been asked now. A bubble of nerves pops when you ask it, showering you in drops of second guesses. 
"N-no, well I mean, yeah I've had like, girlfriends in the past but no, I'm single. As a pringle." 
What was that about? Smooth Munson. 
You just laugh as he visibly cringes at his own words. 
"Pringles aren't single, they fit together. They come in a tube." You add, mock helpfully. 
You both chuckle then, diffusing some of the awkwardness between you. He knocks your knee with his. You reciprocate, and look up into those soulful puppy dog eyes of his. 
Eddie's arm lays on the back of the couch behind you, and he's painfully aware of that fact. He wants to drop it to your shoulder, to run circles on your exposed skin and give you that smile, the smile he's given to a dozen girls. But you aren't a girl. You're a woman. The thought is making him more nervous than a virgin on prom night. 
Coughing the thought away, he asks you about tonight. 
"So, what happened on your date? I thought you'd be out later." 
"So did I." You slug some more beer back to calm yourself, and continue, "he was a nice guy. Opened doors, paid for dinner. Then he kissed me." 
Eddie attempted to ignore the burning jealousy in his gut. 
"Oh yeah? Sounds awful.' 
Laughing, you reach and stroke his side for a minute. Your hand lingers, feeling down to his hip. Eddie's heart is pounding in his throat. To his amazement, you leave it there, absentmindedly running fingers over his t-shirt. 
'Yeah, torture," you quip, "it was the kiss." 
Suddenly, you're moving your hand, much to Eddie's dismay, and turning to face him on the couch. He does the same, noticing that his arm is now so close to your head he can feel a slight tickle from your hair. 
"Can I be honest with you?" 
"Sure," Eddie tries to say coolly, to act like his entire insides aren't on fire because of the eye contact you're giving him. 
"It's, er, been a while. A very long while." Your eyes dip down, unsure why the hell you're telling Eddie this, but something about him is making you want to be open when usually you're a closed book. 
Eddie swallows thickly. He knows exactly what you're getting at. On instinct his thumb is rubbing the back of your head, over the soft curls. You don't seem to mind, better yet, your shoulders drop some tension, letting go just a little. 
Still looking down, you say "I can usually tell what someone's going to be like, in bed, from a kiss. Never been wrong yet," you laugh a little, "and he felt, well, dull, and kinda selfish." 
Grabbing your beer for something to distract you from the ache in your core, you drink some more, nearly finishing it. 
As you place it back down on the coffee table, you glance at Eddie's lap. He's fumbling with his rings, spinning one with his thumb as he shifts in his seat. There's an unmissable bulge in the front of his jeans; they're so tight you can see the outline of it. Of him. 
Glancing up at his face when you feel brave enough, it's beetroot red, but his eyes look dark, hungry almost. 
"Well, th-that's a cool superpower to have," he laughs out nervously. 
"I suppose it is" You smile. 
Eddie's trying so hard to control himself. The devil on his shoulder is pulling at his hair and yelling in his ear to make a move. 
This isn't right though, it's Sammy's mom for fucks sake. 
That's when you put your hand on his knee, touching that bare patch of skin where his jeans are frayed. Your touch is delicate, almost hesitant, and it destroys any resolve Eddie had. His hand is shaking slightly as he puts his fingers over yours. 
The touch is warming and electric, fanning the flames of the blazing fire in your stomach. As your eyes meet, Eddie's confidence grows. He can see that you want this, but someone needs to make the first move, and he would kick himself if he missed out because he didn't have the balls to make it.
"You know sweetheart," he begins, as you take a sharp breath at the nickname, he's never called you anything other than Mrs F before that, "you can't just say you have a superpower like that and not show me." 
There's nerves in his voice, but also a cheeky smile playing on his lips. To his amazement you blush, mouth curving into a smile of your own. 
"Listen, Eddie, you're a very sweet boy-" 
"-man," He interjects, "I'm 21." 
Chuckling, you reply, "OK, a very sweet young man, but I don't think that's a good idea." 
It's true, you don't. It's a very bad idea, but it's one you can't get out of your head, your eyes drawn to the curve of his jaw, his stubble, those plush lips of his. Wetting your lips impulsively, you nibble at the bottom one which sends Eddie's head into a dizzying whirlwind. 
"I just wanna know if I'm good in the sack, think it's only fair if you can tell me, it's just a kiss." 
Luck being pushed as far as it can go and then a little further, he daringly places a hand on your cheek. 
He is right, it's only a kiss. 
You say it in your head as if you're trying to convince yourself of the lie. By the time you realise how weak of an argument it is, you're already leaning forward, eyes unmistakably drawn to his lips. 
Eddie leans in, breath fanning your face. 
"Don't you want to… satisfy your curiosity?" 
It's bold, he knows, but you're the one who leans in further.
Eddie doesn't think twice, not when your eyes are hooded like that and your lips are forming a sultry pout. He presses his lips to yours softly at first, feeling the plush of them melt against his, his hand winding into your hair. 
You don't stop him, or pull back. His lips on yours are disarming, taking away your bite. The kiss is gentle, and you dissolve into it, moving your lips against his with a passion you can't remember ever feeling. 
Eddie's trying really hard not to just stick his tongue down your throat and feel you up, but he needs to prove something. He might not ever get a chance ever again, so he takes it slow. Opening his mouth, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging. Not only do you let him, you return his tongue with a lick of your own, running it over his lip in turn. Tongues stroke into each other's mouths sensually; you feel as if you have something to prove. Like he's the one who will be judging you and not the other way around.
He tastes intoxicating; you can't put your finger on why, it's beer, and cigarettes, and something else that's drawing you in. It's just pure Eddie. His smell too, leather, smoke and Old Spice;  it's filling you up from the inside out, making your head spin. 
Eddie's obsessed. Your touch, your scent, your taste. He could kiss you forever; he could kiss you until he dies, suffocated by your mouth, your passion. This feels like some sort of fever dream and he never wants to wake up.
Your fingers are touching cotton fabric before you even understand that you've got a fistful of his shirt, pulling him in further. He responds by dropping his hand to your neck, thumb rubbing intoxicating patterns on your pulse point. 
When you're feeling on the brink of being entirely consumed by his kiss, he's the one to pull away. It's a little sneaky, he knows that, but he wants the upper hand and thinks he won't get it ever again. Eddie can't believe his luck when he sees your eyes still closed, lips chasing his touch, with a ball of his shirt in your hands. 
As your eyes flutter open, you look up at him. A self satisfied smirk is smeared across his face and you can't help but think he's won this round of whatever the hell you're playing. Playing with fire it feels like. 
A moment too late and you remember your hand bunched into his clothes. You unhand him and slap his knee, fingers unwilling to pull away. 
"So, what's the verdict sweetheart?" Eddie asks. His fingers are still massaging at your neck, rubbing back and forth, sending tingles down your spine. 
"What?" You ask, mind well and truly blank. 
"Guessing that's good." He laughs, taking his hand away to take a sip of his beer. "Remember your superpower, Wonder Woman?" 
"Oh, yeah. It was… good." You shrug, picking up the last of your beer and downing it. 
"Good? Good?! Come on, you gotta give me more than that!" He huffs dramatically, slamming his beer bottle on the table. 
Laughing aloud, you turn and face him again. He really is beautiful. His hair framing his face, that triumphant smile on his lips, laughter lines creasing in his day old stubble. You can almost believe he's older than he is, but knowing what you know about his family, he's been through a lot. 
"OK, it was the best kiss I've had in a while. A very long time." 
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah." 
It's quiet for a moment; a loaded kind of quiet. It hangs heavily in the air like a thunderstorm. 
"Well, how about you?" You ask. 
"What do you mean?" 
"You know what I mean!" You laugh, nudging him with your foot.
"It was… good." He says, mimicking your words. Then he takes in your face, drinking in your beauty with his eyes, until he can't hold back anymore, "alright, it was mind blowing, you're really fuckin' hot." 
"Yeah, for my age" You scoff at his response, disbelieving him even after that kiss. You hear it alot, ever since you passed 35. 'You look good for your age', the backhanded compliment that feels like a knife in the chest. 
"That's bullshit!" Eddie responds loudly, shaking you out of your head and into the here and now, "you're fucking hot, period. Nothing to do with age sweetheart." 
If his words are lies, the bulge in his pants sure isn't. You feel drunk, and not from the alcohol. Eddie's kiss had you feeling reckless. Naughty. Young. 
"I overheard your little conversation earlier," you admit, scooching closer to him on the couch. Faces an inch apart, Eddie's torn between pouncing or running. So are you. 
"Yeah, you weren't supposed to hear that. Kinda glad you did." 
That makes you braver. All thought has gone, and the pounding need in between your legs has you losing all inhibitions as you lean towards his neck.
"Do you want me, Eddie?" You purr into his ear, nipping at the lobe with your teeth. 
"Uh, like, yeah. Yes, o-of course" He replies shakily, hand restless against your thigh. 
"You're trembling Eddie" it's your turn to smirk, lips dragging against his throat, "you've been with a woman before, right?" You know he has, but you can't help teasing him a little. 
Yes, a dozen, but none like you. 
"Y-yeah, I'm not a virgin, if th-that's what you're asking." 
Get it the fuck together Munson. 
"Then why are you nervous?" 
"Girls don't make me nervous. You make me nervous" He laughs, with absolute honesty in his words. 
With a flick of your eyes to his lips, you cradle his jaw. Eddie can't wait a second longer, he's about to burst. He takes a breath, grabs you by the hip, and presses a hard kiss to your mouth. 
The first one was a test, an examination. This one is pure desire, neediness etched into the marrow of his bones. Yet you're the one to deepen the kiss, mouth opening up to him, your tongue running over his with fervour. Lust is rolling off the pair of you, filling the room with its sultry fog.
Impatience gets the best of him, he needs you closer, so he yanks you into his lap, hands grabbing hard to your hips. Gasping into his mouth at the sudden dominance, you let him lead. His kiss is burning you, hot and heavy. Your hips start grinding into his lap of their own accord, each movement inching your dress higher and higher. 
Eddie rolls it up and over your ass so your red lace panties are on display, dress bunching at your waist. His hands are all over you, feeling at your thighs, your hips, your ass, kneading at the dough of your flesh desperately. 
Each grope, each bruising squeeze of his fingertips has you panting in his mouth, your hands winding into his loose locks, tugging. 
The kisses are becoming sloppier, allegedly immovable lipstick starting to smear on Eddie's face. You're biting at his bottom lip, grinding hard against his clothed dick; Eddie feels like he's died and gone to heaven. 
He tugs at your dress urgently, coaxing you to wriggle it up your frame and fling it away. 
The sight of you in your matching bra and panty set is enough to stop him in his tracks. It's gorgeous satin and lace, one of many you have. Even Eddie can see this is expensive. He runs his hands up and down your sides, drinking it in as if it were his last day on Earth. 
You allow him the few moments he takes to worship you with his eyes. If anything you're enjoying it as much as he is, his hungry stare fuelling your ego. 
"See something you like?" You tease, fingernails dragging across his neck. 
"Fuck yeah" comes his breathy response, pulling down a cup of your bra roughly, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking. 
Throwing your head back, you let out an unadulterated moan. You grab the hem of his shirt and tug it upwards. He gets the message, wrestling it off of his toned frame and throwing it away as if he's exasperated with clothes. Relishing in this new uncharted territory, your hands run all over his skin, tracing tattoos and freckles, fingernails leaving evidence of your desire. 
"Sorry, I just need to-" instead of telling you, he shows you, standing up with you grasped firmly at the hips. You think for a moment that he's going to take you upstairs, but he's pressing you down gently to the floor, lips and tongue tasting your neck, playfully licking over your collarbone. 
Eddie needs to know what your pussy tastes like; he's been dreaming of this for as long as he can remember. The thought of you unravelling because of him has him twitching in his pants. 
So, he makes his way down your torso, mapping your skin with his tongue. You're just so reactive; each time he laps and sucks at you a breathy gasp comes spilling from perfect painted lips.  
It's driving you crazy, his mouth is setting each patch of skin aflame, burning with passion. You're surprised by his movements as his mouth trails lower and lower. It looks like he's taking every enjoyment in tasting you, and the way he wiggles to get between your spread legs makes you realise he's going to go down on you. That is what's so surprising; you've never had a man who did that without some serious coaxing, let alone one who seemed to really want to. 
Now you're not self conscious by any means; you've grown to be very comfortable with your body, the feeling just comes with age. You can't help but be a little worried however, when Eddie reaches the stretch marks on your tummy. Little lightning strikes, lighter than the rest of your skin. You're not embarrassed, those little marks on your stomach and thighs are signs of your two beautiful boys. What's troubling you is the fact that Eddie can't have possibly seen any before, at least like this. What if they disgust him? 
It seems you needn't have worried. Eddie's in awe, running his fingers over the soft skin of the scars. He plants a kiss over the top and watches your muscles tense up. 
It's not that he likes them, or dislikes them for that matter; it's the fact that they are real. You're real, and in front of him in your underwear, and they ground him to the fact that this is actually happening. 
Reaching the hem of your panties he's torn between taking them off or not; you're just so damn pretty in them. He settles for running his tongue along the seam making you moan. You, Sammy's mom, moaning underneath him. He'd pinch himself if he didn't think it would spoil the mood. 
"You can take them off if you want baby." 
"Can I just, move them to the side? You're so fuckin' pretty like this." 
"Sure" you nod at him. He does so and nearly dies at the sight. Seems everything about you is thought of, down to your manicured nails, waxed legs, and bikini wax. The little patch of hair left is driving Eddie fucking crazy. 
He wastes no more time and runs his tongue through your folds, lapping at you like a man possessed. You taste exquisite, a flavour Eddie will remember for the rest of his life. It has him groaning into you, the vibration tingling over your clit making you writhe under him.
He's trying to map what you like, what makes you whimper, what makes you buck into his mouth. You can tell he's trying, really trying, but you know what you need. 
"Eddie, oh fuck, use, use the flat of your tongue," as he changes his tongue shape and rhythm, you wind your fingers into his hair and tug him right where you need him, "Oh God fuck, right there!" 
Yes fucking ma'am. 
Eddie's birthdays, Christmases, Easters, fuck it, all the holidays, have come at once. You are using him for your pleasure, riding his face. His dick is so swollen it's almost painful; he's rutting into the carpet like a teenager, the seam on his jeans not nearly providing enough friction.  
The pleasure is coursing through your veins, throbbing inside your stomach and thighs as you take what you need, fingers pulling hard at his hair. 
The moan that rips from your chest when Eddie pushes two fingers into your soaking wet cunt is pornographic, long and loud. He curls them upward, stroking incessantly at your g spot and spots appear in your vision. The last coherent thought you have is, fuck he really knows what he's doing. 
"Eddie!" 
You come with a strangled scream of his name, then it's all just white light and searing ecstasy as you ride out your orgasm. Your pulse and the feel of Eddie's hair taut in your fingers are the only things keeping you on planet Earth. 
Eddie just about holds it together, fingers working you through your release. You screamed his name. He almost came in his pants right then and there. The sound of you screaming his name is now a new core memory. He's sure he will replay it in his head many times with his fist on his cock.
Your back finally touching the carpet again, you tear Eddie's head away from your pussy and coax him none too gently upward. He hovers over your mouth, a little worried about kissing you when his face is covered with your release, but that worry turns into shock when you push his head forcefully towards yours and slip your tongue in his mouth. 
You can't help but moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth. The moan sounds low in your throat, buzzing into Eddie's mouth so low he feels it in his dick. Seems you weren't lying when you said mommy is dirty too. 
Suddenly Eddie's world turns sideways as you flip him onto his back, pushing his thighs apart with your knee. His scent, the feel of his skin, it's intoxicating. Before you realise what you're doing, you're sucking a love bite into the side of his neck, hard. 
Mine. 
Trailing lips and manicured nails down his torso, you pause at the fly of his jeans. You look up at him through your lashes. 
"This OK Eddie?" 
"Erm… oh God yes?" 
You giggle girlishly, flicking the button of his jeans undone and unzipping the fly gently. Relishing in the moment, you guide him to lift his hips and pull his jeans and boxers down slowly, unwrapping him like a gift.  
And what a fucking gift. 
As you pull his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his hardened cock springs out, coming to rest on his abdomen. It's big, the biggest you think you've seen in real life. Blushing a pretty pink at the tip, a pearl of pre cum sits on the slit at the top. 
Eddie takes your stillness as judgement, he can't help but fill in the silence. 
"Sorry, it's er, it's not like, impressive or anything- oh fuck" 
His apologies are interrupted when you take the tip in your mouth, sucking up the pre cum that glistens there. You roll the tip around your mouth, amazed at the fact he tastes so good. 
Breaking away with a pop, you reply, looking at him as you fist his length slowly with one hand. 
"Eddie, you're really, really big." 
"Really?" He doesn't look convinced, leaning up on his elbows to look at you. 
"Really. You're huge Eddie." 
"Yeah?" An edge of disbelief coats his voice, but he's smiling. 
"Biggest I've seen." 
Eddie's smile is damn near splitting his face in half. 
"So, could I get that in writing or- Jesus fuckin' Christ!" 
You take him in your mouth again, fitting as much as you can, fisting the rest in your hand. The groans and whimpers coming from Eddie's mouth are downright obscene. The wetter you get him, the louder he gets, so you dribble purposely all over your fist, letting it drip down to his balls. 
Eddie's eyes keep trying to roll back but he won't let them, he refuses. He needs to see this, to see you. The slick sounds your hand and mouth are creating are making him fizz from the inside out, each movement is making him want to blow his load in that perfect practised mouth. 
Sammy's mom is sucking my fucking dick dry. 
He's trying to get his head around this impossible situation but it's so outlandish he wants to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. He settles on moaning, hand resting on the back of your head, stroking encouraging circles. 
"Fuck, you're- you're too good at this, holy shit!" 
Relinquishing his length with a sodden wet noise, you fist his length, running your thumb over his tip and lapping at his balls. Taking one in your mouth and playfully sucking, he nearly busts right then and there. 
"OK sweetheart, I-I can't hold back if you, fuck, if you d-do that-" 
You finally unhand him with a cheeky smile and straddle him, your underwear the only barrier between your sex and his throbbing length. 
"You OK there champ?" You ask, a mischievous grin plastered all over your face as you drag your perfect nails down his chest. 
"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I-" Eddie grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks, "Please give me a minute, please." 
Eddie's eyes are big, wide and wet. Almost like a lost puppy. You're torn between wanting to hold him close, look after him, and fucking him hard until he cries. 
Suddenly he looks concerned, eyes growing impossibly wider. 
"I don't have, a-a condom or anything-" 
You chuckle lowly, bringing his hand to your lips, kissing softly at his knuckles. 
"Eddie, baby, I had my tubes tied years ago. It's OK. If it's OK with you?" 
Holy shit. Sammy's mom wants to ride me raw. Jesus Christ. 
His head is spinning; he realises he's nodding so hard he may have whiplash. You smirk at his response, the rigorous nodding and wide eyed look is just doing something to your insides; twisting them up, making you hungry. 
Maybe that's why you do what you do. You wink at him, and swing your leg over, pushing your underwear to the side once again. Though this time, you're straddling him backwards, round ass on display as you tease the head of his cock with your soaking wet lips. 
As you sink down onto him, you hear the guttural moan that strikes out from his soul almost, travelling swiftly to your core. He's big, you weren't lying. You feel each vein, each ridge, as you seat yourself fully onto his cock. 
This boy has no idea what he's packing. 
Jesus Christ, the spots this impressive length can reach are unreal. You bounce on him slowly, revelling in the stretch. He's throbbing underneath you, inside you. The sensation makes you moan wantonly, feeling sexier than you've felt in years. 
Eddie's mesmerised by your ass, watching it bounce on his dick, drooling at the shake of it when it plunges back down. His eyes are drawn to your tight hole, half hidden by the pricey underwear that still adorns you. Just a tiny slip of lace hugged in your ass cheeks. 
He's already pushed his luck; he's well aware of that fact. The arousal pumping through him has him throwing caution to the wind however, so he sucks his thumb, getting it nice and wet, and pushes it against your asshole.
It surprises you, sure, but you're moaning louder at his bold move. 
Eddie's reeling, dizzy at your reaction. He was expecting at least for you to just slap his hand away, but if anything you speed up and make even more noise. Fuck, if you could get more perfect, you just did. He pushes his digit in, feeling you clench around it, riding him for all he's worth. 
"Oh fuck, Eddie!" 
It's too much for you to take, being filled in both holes, riding him hard and fast until your vision is blurring and spots are in your eyes. Your release startles you, a fuzzy feeling filling you up from the inside out and exploding from your cunt in a gush. 
Reality seeps in as you come down from your high; pain in your knees searing up your leg. 
"Sweetheart, I need to get on top, please." 
It's a relief you're not prepared to admit to as you climb off, legs twitching and knackered. 
Near collapsing on the floor, Eddie's on you, falling in his excitement. He's forgotten his jeans are still woven around his ankles. He kicks them off and slides between your spread legs. 
"Can I take your panties off now sweetheart?" 
What he's not saying, is he really doesn't want to miss what might be the only time he gets to see you naked. You oblige, lifting up your hips so he can wrestle the sodden garment off you. 
As if you can hear his prayers, you unhook your bra too, flinging it toward the couch. Eddie's nearly having a heart attack; it's hammering hard in his chest, the only thing stopping it from bursting out is his ribcage. The sight of you, nude, beneath him? It's unravelling him in a way he didn't know was possible. 
So he loses it for a moment, burying his head in the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. Your nipples stand to attention at his ministrations, yet your core hums at the lack of attention. 
"Eddie, please, I need you inside me." 
Fuck this is unreal. She's so beautiful and she's begging for me. Feels like a dream. 
But it's not a dream. He's pressing his quivering length against you again and your pussy is swallowing him up as if it's hungry for him. 
You let him in, his hard member spearing you, humping into you hard and rough. You groan against him, fingernails finding leverage in his broad shoulders. 
His arms hook under your sweaty knees, pulling them hard against your torso, angling himself to fuck into you mercilessly. 
"Fuck, you feel- so fuckin' good" He stammers out, slamming his hips into you. 
You're beyond words, screaming his name like it's the only word you know. 
"You gonna come again? Please, fuck, please come, I need it, I need it baby please" His babbling words fire out at you, driving you ceaselessly to another orgasm. 
Fingers wind between your heaving forms, running urgent circles over your clit. They slip and slide against your sodden nub, desperately seeking to get you to that precipice. You moan, and moan, and finally clench and scream his name, voice hard, burning in your throat.
Eddie can't take it, not the way your cunt is grabbing onto him so tightly, constricting his dick as if it's afraid he'll leave. He stutters his hips and grunts his own release deep into you. 
For a minute he doesn't stop, He refuses to stop. He doesn't want it to be over. So, he fucks his cum into you until it's impossible to continue and finally comes up for air. 
You envelop his lips into a suffocating kiss, swollen lips and tongue and spit. Messy and passionate, he returns it, glad that you still want to kiss him at the end of all things. 
Though, you don't want it to be over. His touch, his feel, his taste, you could soak it up, roll around in it forever, wrap yourself in his arms and stay. A mad thought. A maddening thought. 
Eddie slips from inside you making you frown at the loss. His smile is soaked in mischief however, as he starts to kiss down your front again, burying his head in the deep valley of your breasts, tongue lathering over the supple flesh and moving downwards. 
He's never, ever, felt the need to taste himself on another. As a matter of fact, if you had told him yesterday he would feel the desperate urge to press his tongue into a pussy that is dripping with his own cum he would have laughed in your face. But, this is your pussy. Your tight wet cunt, and he needs to taste it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe. For a second he stares up at you with big soulful eyes. 
"I wanna taste what we made." 
His words are shooting into the pulse spilling from your core.
"Really?" Your words drip in perplexity, amazed that any man would want that, but the thought lingers, making you realise that you want that. 
No further time wasted, he dives into your dripping core, tongue dragging through your aching lips. For a moment it's too much, until it drops into pleasure; pleasure that you sink into, melting under his touch. 
Eddie laps furiously at your clit, both of your releases dripping from his chin. He sinks thick fingers inside, squelching into your soft heat. 
Wordlessly, he takes his fingers out and reaches them up to your face. His eyes are trained on you, flat of his tongue rubbing against your swollen nub. 
Hesitantly, you take in the sight of his sticky fingers, before you take them into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks. The taste is indescribable; it's salty, sweet, tangy, each separate flavour hitting your tongue differently, fuelling your desires.
You're making Eddie's dreams come true with that gesture. Your trust in him, your filthiness, the way your tongue works against his fingers, it's all shooting to his heart, and his cock. He's impossibly hard again, groaning into your cunt. 
Another release is speeding toward you. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it, free falling into ecstasy. You grip around his wrist, fingers digging bruises into the tendons as your orgasm rushes out of you in a string of curse words. 
He moves back up your body and you envelop his slicked lips in a firm kiss. To your surprise, you can feel his hard member digging into your thigh. It's been a long time since you've been with anyone who couldn't go more than one round before rolling over and falling asleep. The joys of youth. 
"You OK Eddie?" You ask between breath-taking kisses. 
"OK? I'm fucking amazing sweetheart. Feel like I just won the lottery or something" He huffs a laugh, nudging the tip of his nose with yours. 
"You, erm-" you begin, feeling almost embarrassed, "-you wanna go again?" 
"Oh hell yeah." 
His tip is already begging at your entrance but you place a firm hand to his chest, stilling his movements. 
"Eddie, upstairs? My back is killing me." You admit it, the hard floor giving you aches and pains. 
"Fuck, yeah, sorry. Come on" practically leaping up, he holds out his hand to you and you grasp it in yours. You giggle at his eagerness, the sight of him stark naked leaping up the stairs three at a time stoking your amusement. 
This might be inappropriate, it might be a bit wrong, but damn, this is fun. Having someone desire you so much, who wants to fuck you over and over? Morals can kick in tomorrow. Tonight, you have a gorgeous young man aching to give you more. 
********************
"Hey, you still here?" 
You look up, distracted from your musings of last night. God, that boy had some stamina. 
"Huh?" 
"Wow, that date must have been good! You going to spill? Come on, tell me about it!" 
Blushing, you sip the glass of wine in front of you. Karen Wheeler had popped round unannounced with a bottle and you were sitting around your kitchen table whilst she grilled you about why you were smiling so much. She would lose her shit if she knew who you were smiling about. 
"I mean, I can't really talk about it." You mumble around your glass. 
"Oh God, why? Oh, he's married, I bet he's married! You naughty thing!" Her words are admonishing, but her cheeks are glowing. She's loving every minute of this. 
Why not? At least that would explain it away. 
"Yeah, he's married." 
"Oh my you're terrible!" She cackles, laughing. "How was he?" 
"I don't know what you're talking about Karen." 
"Oh, come on you're practically glowing! I know that look" She says, nodding sagely. 
"OK, look" You say, taking a gulp of wine for composure and a deep breath before it rushes out of your mouth in a torrid whisper. 
"It was fucking incredible, like toe curling incredible, you know? And he just kept going, I mean, honestly? The best I've ever had." 
Karen coughs and nods pointedly behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see him. 
Eddie. Fuck. 
He's standing there nonchalantly, leaning on the doorframe with a Cheshire cat grin. 
"Sorry for the interruption, just grabbing a couple beers." 
He bounces into the kitchen and fetches two beers from the fridge. 
"Me and Sammy are just working on the campaign. I'll er, leave you ladies to it." 
He practically skips out the room, leaving you red faced. 
"That Eddie?" You nod, face red as a beetroot. 
"He's grown up, hasn't he?" 
You steer away from this line of questioning, mortified that he heard what you said. 
"Only on the outside. You want a top up?" She agrees with a grin as you fill her glass up and she regales you with all the poolside gossip. When the bottle is done, she leaves with a wink, saying she'll keep your secret. If she only knew what that was. 
Eddie's on cloud nine right now, bouncing up the stairs three at a time. 
The best she's ever had. The best she's ever had. 
It's in his mind, playing in a loop. His mantra, a quote that will live deep in his chest from now until forever after. 
The best she's ever had. 
He flings the door open and flounces into Sammy's room, banging a beer down on the bedside table. 
"A beverage for you, good fellow!" 
"Aha! Fine work m'lord!" Sammy twists the cap off, tossing it in the bin. Eddie does the same, twisting to face the waste paper basket, and takes a long swig. 
"Eddie you dirty fuck." 
He freezes, ice pouring down his spine. Spinning on his heel, he turns to face Sammy.
"What are you on about?" He asks, a fake smile masking the fear that had bottomed out in his stomach. 
"I see the panties you've got in your back pocket, red ones. They're poking out! Dude, did you get lucky last night?" Sammy smirks, swigging his own beer.
He couldn't help himself. He swiped them when he was leaving. They were still wet, soaked with a mixture of his spit and your release. He'd sniffed them and got himself off twice this morning. 
Chill out. Sammy's grinning. He's got no clue who they belong to. 
Eddie relaxes and grins smugly back, laying on the floor, his back against the bed. 
"Oh, you have no idea." 
********************
Humming to yourself, you sort through the dirty clothes in the laundry room, separating darks and lights. 
Your thoughts drift yet again to that messy haired rocker. His large hands, his tight torso, his dick. Fuck, his dick. 
Shaking your head, you do what you can to rid your brain of your salacious thoughts, loading the washer a little more forcefully than you necessarily needed to. 
You hear the unmistakable click of the door behind you. Not bothering to turn, you huff as you shut the washer lid with a bang. 
"I swear to God Sammy if you need a shirt for tonight I've already-" 
"Hey sweetheart." 
Flipping to face the door, there he is. Arms folded across his slender chest, smug smirk spread stickly across his features, he stares at you. 
"Eddie, you need to leave." 
Your tone is stern, but your bottom lip disappears into your mouth, being nibbled at by your teeth. 
"You sure? Thought you might wanna see me. You know, since I'm the best you ever had." 
"Eddie shut the fuck up!" You hiss between your teeth, eyes flashing to the door. 
"Sweetheart, Sammy's fallen asleep. He had a long night. You know what that's like." 
"Eddie, that was a one time thing. God, it's not like this can go anywhere, so why are you here?" 
Tapping your foot impatiently, he closes the gap between you, cornering you between the wall and the washing machine. 
You want to be angry; to push him away and leave, but the pounding of your pulse between your legs betrays you. 
As if he knows, he slots his leg between yours, denim clad thigh hovering near your throbbing heat, pushing your sundress up in the process. 
"I know. Fuck, I'm well aware. I just wanna- help you out. Like, an arrangement" He smiles, knuckles reaching up to stroke your cheek. 
"Eddie-" 
Before you manage to form words, he's on his knees in front of you, large palms running over your bare thighs. 
"Please." 
That's all he says, wet doe eyes wide, gleaming up at you as if you were some sort of goddess and he was kneeling at your altar. 
Eddie's begging to the old Gods and the new; fuck it, to anyone who might be listening. He wants you, with everything he has. Each fibre is burning for you. He thought it might go away after last night, but it was simply a taste. A drop of water doesn't quench an undying thirst. 
This little sundress is doing nothing to sate his hunger for you. The flimsy material clings in all the right places, forcing his eyes to trail over your curves like a man starved. 
Without a thought in your head, you wind your fingers into Eddie's hair, relishing the feel of his hot breath on your naked thighs. Guiding his head forward, you shudder as his lips trace across your flesh. 
Eddie lifts your dress up, reaching desperately to pull your panties off and away before you change your mind. Slick sticking to them, he pulls them down, watching as they gradually peel from your core. 
He sits on his heels, eyes flitting from your eyes to your cunt. 
"Sweetheart, please. I just wanna- I wanna help you with your needs. Fuck, with my needs." 
Nodding emphatically, you tug at his hair, drawing him in. 
Eddie counts his blessings and dives straight at your pussy, lapping between the folds just like you taught him. 
"Oh God" you moan aloud, then bite at your hand to stop your noises. Flicking one leg over his shoulder, you force his head as close as you can, nearly riding his face. 
If anything, Eddie is a quick learner, at least when it comes to you. 
His tongue is electric, hitting all of the right spots. He feels your cunt on his tongue, leaving hot and heavy licks. Running his hand up your thigh again, he presses his thumb against your clenching hole, wiggling into your slick drenched pussy. 
"Eddie, yes!" You whisper, fingers pulling at his curls incessantly. Eyes rolling back, you rut your hips into him, on the brink of falling apart.
White hot light sears your eyelids as you  come with a stifled cry, cunt undulating around his thick digit. 
"Fuckfuckfuck!" 
Yanking his head away from you by the roots of his hair, you cannot fail to hear the unmistakable moan that spills from his lips. 
Eddie's staring up at you dumbfounded, as if you created the universe just for him. 
Panting, you stare back down at him, his lips parted and shining with your orgasm. 
"Eddie, holy hell." 
He stands, wiping the slick from his face with the back of his hand, though it does nothing to remove the grin. 
Against every better judgement, you grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, lips nearly touching. 
"You- you can't tell anyone about this, OK? Not a soul, understood?" 
If it were possible, his grin grows even wider, palm resting at your waist. 
"I can be discreet." He whispers as he presses his lips to yours. Winding fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, tongue moving expertly between his parted lips to taste him, and you. 
Eddie pulls away reluctantly. 
"I better go." 
As he moves to the door, hand hovering over the handle, you call out to him. 
"Eddie, wait." 
Turning his head, he looks at you. 
"Sammy's seeing Tiff again tonight, and er, Johnny's still at his grandma's." 
"Good to know." He winks and leaves. What you don't know is that he does a mini victory dance once the door is shut, fists pumping in the air with sheer joy. 
He doesn't know how long this is going to last, but he'll take every single second he can get with you whilst you let him. 
Taglist (just some likely candidates ;) )
@cursedyuta @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @rip-quizilla @emsgoodthinkin @josephquinnsfreckles @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eiightysixbaby @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @usedtobecooler @roanniom
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edenesth · 4 months
Text
The Way to His Heart [8]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9
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"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.
Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."
Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"
"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.
He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.
Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.
The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."
Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.
"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."
Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."
"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."
Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"
Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.
"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."
Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.
The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.
In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"
Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.
As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.
But you weren't entirely alone, of course.
Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.
"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.
You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.
With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."
Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.
Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."
Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."
Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."
As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."
"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.
Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."
Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."
You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"
This time, you nodded with a wide smile.
"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."
Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.
With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."
He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."
Mission accomplished.
Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.
"Are you ready, my dear?"
The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."
As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."
"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."
His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.
"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.
Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."
Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.
Yes, he's here with you now.
Nothing bad will happen.
His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."
The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"
Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.
The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"
"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.
You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.
Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.
Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."
The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."
"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."
"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.
Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"
Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"
The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.
"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.
All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.
Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.
Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.
But what if there was still hope for them?
What if they had a chance?
After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.
You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"
Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."
That should be me!
The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?
In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."
Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"
"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.
Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."
Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.
Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.
Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.
Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.
Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?
"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.
Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."
"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.
Your real home, not this nightmare.
« Preview of Part 9 »
As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.
"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.
You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.
If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?
Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."
Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.
"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."
Oh, crap.
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Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈
Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178
Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section
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callofdudes · 9 months
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Best idea
Y/n had to go MIA/KIA to keep the 141 safe, once Simon founds out angry cause he mourned for his best friend only to find out their alive and in hiding, demanded platonic cuddles as their “punishment”
Ok, I'm gonna get the brain juices running for this one. Another one based off a story my bestie @itsscromp and I did. But I changed it up. Hope you enjoy, it's longer than I anticipated it being.
Also, I should have fully expected the repercussions of letting you guys vote Egg as a callsign... but I'ma still use it.
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Where did you go??
Summary: They thought you were gone, dead. Turns out you were under their noses and a call away the whole time.
Cw: Angst. Nothing much else.
Your mission had gone... Well for lack of a better word it went to shit. Whole thing blew up. An ambush, a bomb, it would be a long road to explain what all in all happened but it did, and now you were paying for it. It had gotten so bad they couldn't pull you from the junction you were stuck in.
You were supposed to be infiltrating an old base which had become home to a drug ring. But no one happened to mention the mines you'd step on and fuck up your leg with. Or the live wire that alerted the whole base after said mine went off.
So now this entire base was up in arms, you have a broken leg and probably other damage. You were lucky your leg hadn't been blown off.
And to be quite frank, these men were extremely dangerous which meant your fuck up was astronomical. The second they found you you were probably going to die.
So you commed into Price, telling him your situation.
"Alright Egg, I'm going to go in on foot and bring you back to the helicopter just hang tight soldier."
"Yes sir." You lay down, catching your breath and willing yourself not to look at your leg because if it felt bad it probably looked bad too.
Not twenty minutes later Price was approaching your form, bending down to check on you. "You broken??"
"Yeah I'm pretty sure... I don't want to look though."
Price nodded, tucking his gun away and grabbed your arms. "Alright, up we go," he hauled you up into his arms, hefting you over his shoulder and going back the way he came. Just... A little quicker this time since things were looking good for the oppositions infantry.
Price brought you back to the helicopter where you were bandaged up. The mission could have been better planned so they didn't end up sending another team out.
Price had the team drop you off near some loading stations far off the location of the base.
"What... Are we doing here??"
Price got out of the helicopter and checked your leg before pulling you out with him. "I can't bring you back to base. It's a security risk if I do..."
You frowned. "What do you mean?? Where am I going then??"
"There's a secure underground safehouse that will keep you hidden. It's got the provisions you need and the people you need. They'll keep quiet and keep you safe. For now, for however long, I need you to lay low."
You opened your mouth to protest but then shut it again. "I understand. Will I get to see the others..?"
"No, you are not to contact them in any way at all. Until I contact you, you are to remain on the downlow."
Your head falls slightly, but you nod. "Alright, I can do that."
Price nodded and patted your shoulder. He picked you up and helped you into the truck waiting for you. "They'll take care of you. I'll contact you as soon as it's safe. If I do not contact you do not contact us. Got it?"
You nod once again, taking the instructions to heart. You wouldn't be able to contact Ghost, Soap or Gaz. You wouldn't be able to contact anyone. But you knew this was for the best.
So with a last goodbye Price closed the door to the truck and the soldier in the driver's seat drove down the empty road out of the landing space.
"How long will we be gone??"
"Until we get the word from Captain Price. Don't worry. It'll be kept under wraps..."
...
Price returned to the base, taking a deep breath and having had time to figure everything out. He immediately called the others into a meeting.
Considering you and Price weren't supposed to be back for the rest of the day, or even two days or more the meeting was seen as urgent.
Ghost was there first, the sergeants following his trail as they came into the office. "Price... What are you doing back?" Ghost asked sternly, hands clasped tightly as if ready for action at a moments notice.
"Relax... There won't be any fighting. I need you all to sit."
Soap threw Gaz a concerned look as they sat. "Where is y/n, are they still out there??"
Price straightened his posture. He didn't exactly want to lie to his own men, but he'd done worse and he knew this was completely for the best.
"The mission didn't go well as soon as we went in."
Ghost frowned. "Didn't go well?? These drug traders could be connected to Shepherd's on power, how did it wrong??"
"Ghost, relax." Price replied firmly. "I realize that we didn't think this over as well as we should have... Their base was much more protected than we originally thought so Egg went in blind."
"So what happened? Did you pull them??" Ghost was growing more agitated the longer they sat there.
"They commed in about an exploded mine and... We couldn't find them."
The room grew quiet. Soap and Gaz shared concerned looks as Gaz spoke up. "Did you do a full search? We're they hidden in the dirt or something and you missed??"
Price shook his head. "Too risky to go on foot and search. We didn't know how many more mines were out there." Only a small white lie, but a lie nonetheless.
Ghost squared in his chair. "Then we need to go find them. What are we sitting here for just waiting-!"
"Ghost, if they are safe they'll comm in. For now I can't risk sending men in there with the base on high alert and their supposed boss on speed dial. So for now we sit down and we wait to see if Egg comes back with anything."
Ghost was boiling up underneath. Feelings of rage that Price couldn't have waiting a little longer. Worry because they left you out there probably still alive... And fear. Because what if you weren't alive.
"I won't make any calls on it now, but this is where we are at so remain patient. I'm doing what I can to sort this out." Price had to rewire this plan to keep all of his men safe. All of his soldiers, including you.
"Dismissed."
The air was tense when everyone left. The idea you were out there alone, still alive and possibly if not injured and with no help. It scared them all.
Gaz was the first to try and get in contact with you. But any of his efforts were proving ineffective.
Soap just had to wait it out. To hope they could find you or you could find them in time.
Ghost... Ghost didn't know what to think. He knew you were capable. He knew if you were alive then you'd comm in. Once you were safe he knew you would make contact. You could protect yourself... He had to believe you would be ok.
That mentality lasted right up until a week later when Price called everyone back in to pronounce you MIA. Stamped on a card to your file and just like that, they truly had zero traces of you.
They were devastated. A week and no turn of anything from you. This is when Simon started to call your phone. Leaving you text messages.
He couldn't sleep because all his thoughts and dreams were of you. Hoping you were ok and alive. That hope was dying, waking up in cold sweats on nights he could close his eyes for even a moment.
Clutching his beating heart while his body rattled with panic, phone pressed to his ear only to hear your voice over the same simple voice mail as ever.
He couldn't be without you. You were a crucial part of his life. Of his mission. He couldn't just abandon that connection. You had to be alive.
Price cut communication with the safe house you were being taken care of. Unless it was an emergency Price knew not of your condition, only that you were safe. He too was worried, bouncing around through meetings and talking with Laswell and this and that and the other thing.
Trying to figure out what to do now that they needed a new plan and how long they could wait to re-infiltrate.
Simon had started leaving you voicemails, not knowing if he'd ever hear your voice again.
"Hey, this is Y/n, I'm currently busy but please try to leave a message so I can get back to you!"
Simon laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as he held the phone to his ear.
"Y/n.... If you can hear me you gotta respond. Please, I don't know if you'll ever hear these again but if you're somewhere out there I know you're alive. Anything, please, I..." He closed his eyes, thinking back to the last time he saw you. Taking off in that helicopter, a pat on the shoulder and a good luck...
"I miss you. And I'm not giving up on you. I'm not." He wouldn't cry... He wouldn't cry. He would not cry.
"I'm going to come find you. I know somewhere you're still alive. Even if their torturing you I promise I won't leave you out there to die you hear me."
Tears rolled down his cheeks and he covered his eyes, curling up on his bed. "I know you hear me...." He choked out. "I know you can hear me...." He stares at the phone. "Please Y/n.... Please, anything..."
He stared at the phone, waiting like you would magically pick up and reassure him even for a second that you were ok and alive and even if you weren't thriving you were still breathing.
But no...
The voicemail lasted for over an hour. Simon laid there, staring at him phone, unable to bring himself to hang up again.
His thumb hovered over the phone. He wanted to say one last thing... He opened his mouth, but he hesitated. His eyes downcast and one last tear rolled down his cheek as he ended the call once again. Only to face another restless night of no sleep.
By the eighth month mark you were pronounced KIA.
Simon had pretty much known by that point. He'd lost his best friend but he had been in denial until Price told them. They couldn't find a trace of you. No body, no tags, no clothes, no weapon. You had simply... Vanished.
Simon continues to mourn all while you were still being held up in that underground safehouse. Sitting on the small rickety bed, watching the higher ranked soldiers also staying watch at the safehouse talk in the other room.
It was beyond difficult. No contact with outside, you ate, slept, the others tended to your leg and occasionally sparred with you to help you back on your feet.
You missed your team. Your friends. Your family.
You listened to every single voicemail Simon sent. You couldn't reply. Couldn't text him back or even pick up the phone for a second to let him know you were ok.
You remained radio silent.
Even as you'd lay awake at night with your phone replaying the voicemail, listening to the recorded lapse of Simon's breathing while he stared at the phone with an empty, sorrowful expression from the other side.
You missed him so much. You wanted to see them again. But you couldn't. Not yet. Would you ever get to see them again?? They couldn't leave you down here forever.
There was a brief knock on your door as one of the sergeants nodded to you. "Food is ready, new supply just came in."
You nod, pausing the voicemail. "Thanks... I'll be out in a minute."
You sighed, turning off your phone and tucking it away, praying that you'd see them soon.
...
Simon had lost you. Didn't even get a chance to protect you. It had gotten to the point where his lack of sleep would lead to seeing figures of you disappear down hallways. In a spark of hope and joy he'd rush to find you only to find nothing...
On the off days he'd run into a recruit or a sergeant wandering the halls. As soon as they would turn around though... The illusion would shatter.
His own mind was killing him from the inside. Sending you hundred and hundreds of text messages. Every morning and night, rants about his day and what he was feeling. If he was going to pour everything out like you'd ever see it he did it now.
Knowing you'd never pick that phone up again, knowing you'd never look him in the eyes again. Knowing he'd never hear your voice or feel your touch or know your comfort ever again.
This drove him further and further into the spiral. Price had never seen Simon beat up the punching bag so much he bled all over it. He'd never seen Simon get snappy and angry I'm split decisions like he did.
He'd never seen Simon grow so desperate and over protective of Johnny and Kyle. Because Simon's new fear was he'd lose them just like he lost you...
This went on for the next three months after that. Nearly a year since you'd died and they were back out on that minefield. A proper plan, a new way in, a new goal.
Simon was desperate to tear that base apart and even find a trace of your body. Even just a piece of your clothing or your signature engraved gun hanging in their armory somewhere.
But in the end he was left with no more questions answered than when he first entered that meeting room eleven months ago.
Simon had followed the trail to the last thread. The main office of that base. Pulling open every drawer and every cabinet.
"Lt stop you're making a mess-!"
"There's got to be a file or something here! There fucking has to be!"
"Ghost stop we found the information we needed. We have the shipments contained the base is clear what could you be looking for??" Gaz asked, trying to understand what had gotten Ghost in such a frenzy.
"A kill list or an interrogation chart. Anything."
"For what Simon!?"
"For Y/n!!" Simon snapped at them both. Breathing heavy as he finishes emptying every drawer in that office.
Price stood silently in the doorway. Enough time had passed. He wouldn't put them through this anymore.
"Come on lads... I think it's time I show you something."
Their attention turned on to him. Simon was almost vibrating with rage and anxiety. He just wanted any knowledge of what happened. He knew you were dead but his soul was restless without knowing. He needed to know...
They left, Price piled them in the helicopter and the ride back was silent. Simon stared at his hands the whole time. Soap fidgeted, knee bouncing and chewing his lip anxiously.
Gaz picked at the loose strap of his gun, also attempting to distract himself from the elephant in the room.
When the helicopter landed they weren't on base. They landed on the small helipad you had been brought to some some before. Price got out, motioning the other three to follow.
"Where are we Price??" Soap looked around, not recognizing the place.
"You'll know soon enough." Price brought them to a truck, talking with the officer in charge of the station before climbing in the driver's seat.
The sergeants got comfy in the back and Simon slipped into the passenger seat. His eyes remained fixed on the passenger window, watching the open land pass by and the fields of undisturbed flowers and wildlife.
What if he had found you here? May you would have liked that better. Surrounded by the flowers and the soft blowing breeze instead of wherever your body lay, ashes or not.
He turned away, fixing his eyes to the dashboard to try and distract himself.
The ride was quiet once again. Lasting about an hour and a half before Price stopped, parking the vehicle outside a small outpost of sorts. It wasn't build very high off the ground and was concealed by trees and wildlife.
"A safehouse. Why cannae we jus' go home??" Soap asked as he jumped out of the vehicle with the others.
"I'd prefer we made a stop here." Price said, leading them to the entrance where surpisingly a soldier was there to bring them in.
"Occupied? Now there's something new." Gaz whispered to Soap.
Simon didn't understand why they were even making this stupid trip. He wanted to go back to base. He wanted to hide once again like he always did.
"Captain Price, welcome back." The soldier shook Price's hand and walked them further inside.
"Sergeant! Their here for you!" The soldier called out, walking to one of the small rooms where you were. Where you spent most of your time.
You looked up. Who was here for you?? Your eyes widened. Them, your team! It had to be them they were back!
You pushed off your bed, leaning into your good leg and moved faster than you had in almost a year. Turning the corner and there they were. Price, Simon, Johnny, Kyle. All of them.
But.... This wasn't the hopeful reunion you'd pictured in your head over and over again. No one moved. The thought of Simon rushing the hug you didn't come true as he didn't move.
Price walked over, embracing you. "Good to see you again sergeant." You hugged him tightly, so good to be held by him, embraced by Price again. You'd missed him so much.
Johnny was the second one to snap out of it, running over and wrapping his arms around you tightly. "What the hell is wrong with you doing this! You had us all sick and worried and heartbroken!!"
"It wasn't my plan... I'm sorry." You hugged Johnny back. "I'm so sorry Soap, I'm so sorry." Johnny couldn't stop his tears, not wanting to let go in fear you'd slip away again.
Gaz followed, hugging you tighter than you'd ever felt him do before. You'd never seen Gaz openly cry but he was balling, sobbing as he hugged you tightly.
"We thought you were dead, captain told us you were dead!"
"I had to do it to protect them... To protect all of us." Price knew this would probably take a bit for them all to come to terms and forgive him for, but it had to be done.
When the others were done cooing and coddling over you, there was just Simon left.
He felt alone. He felt cold and separated. He felt like he wasn't a part of the same bubble as the others... He watched them embrace and kiss and love on you... You. It was you.
You turned to him, but Simon didn't move. He didn't know if he could. He felt so consumed by his darkness and his grief it didn't allow him to step into the light.
He'd consumed himself so much if he touched you he felt he might burn. That you fall like sand from his fingertips and the illusion would shatter...
"Simon...." You whisper, stepping toward him, causing Simon to step back.
You could see the fear in his eyes. The lack of trust, the amount of hurt, the pain he must have went through to have one of his lifelines ripped away and then thrust back into his life suddenly like it was fine.
"I'm... I'm sorry Simon I didn't mean to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail you sent. I knew every text that went through. But I...."
"You could have told me you were fine! You could have told me you were ok!! Bullshit that you couldn't!! Bullshit!!" Simon thundered.
You remained silent. Simon glared at Price. This was his fault. You'd been taken away without warning. He could have kept it a secret he could have carried that knowledge and not been out through a years worth of fire from hell!
Simon threw his gun to the ground, not even carrying as he left again.
"Lieutenant! Simon!" Price called after him as Simon left the safehouse.
You placed your hand on Price's chest. "Don't... It's ok. Let me help him."
Price looked down. But he nodded.
You left the safehouse, finding Simon around the corner huddled up, shaky hands trying to light a cigarette to get his nerves to calm down and his mind to clear up.
"You hid from me." He cursed, acting like he was seconds from spitting your name into the dirt and squashing it. But you knew. You knew inside he was hurting more than anyone else on the team.
You knelt beside him, gently taking the lighter from his hands. "I never meant to hurt you. If I didn't have strict orders from Price I would have contact you right away."
"Why couldn't he have at least told us you were ok. That you were alive."
"I... I don't know Simon, you'll have to ask Price about that one. But I promise I never meant to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail, I didn't give up. I can see the pain it caused you."
You moved closer, slipping into his arms and hugging him tightly. The second you wrapped your arms around him. He felt your weight, your warmth, your heart pounding in your chest against his own.
Simon finally looked at you, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was shattered. So hurt from losing you.
"You fuckin' abandoned me!!"
"I didn't abandon you Simon. You know I would have picked up and came running back even if my leg was missing."
He knew it was true. But he was so... So angry and torn and upset. He wanted to scream and fight and he felt so small and helpless.
The real you.
Not some illusion passing corners or drifting through his peripherals. The you he could touch and hold and protect.
His arms wrapped around you tightly, never letting go of you even once. He didn't stop those tears as he pulled you impossibly closer.
"I'm here Simon. I'm not leaving again ok? I'm right here."
He remained silent, crying as he held onto you. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck. It felt like hours passed. It felt like time slowed. What felt like two hours was twenty minutes when he finally pulled away enough to look at your face.
To see the light in your glimmering eyes, to see every feature of your face that made you, you.
His sergeant. His teammate. His family.
You smiled softly, gently pulling up his mask off his head to cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumb gently over the dimple in his cheek you've seen when he shows you his smile.
"Smudged your paint a little bit," You whisper. "Let's get that fixed." You gently brush your finger over his face, feeling him start to relax at that familiar and missed touch as you fix the paint around his eyes.
"There we go. How can I help Simon. What will help make this better?"
Simon tried to flick away the rest of his tears, huffing softly. "Cuddles. And you are not allowed to say no after what you put me through. This is your punishment for making me go through that shit!"
You chuckle. "Oh, cuddles with Simon, scary. I'll pay the fine, I'll do all the punishment time of cuddles you request. Sound good?"
Simon nods his head.
"Ok, well how about we go inside now? I could use some cuddles too."
You were about to get up when Simon hugged you again. "I'm glad you're ok..."
You smiled softly, kissing the top of his head. "I am too Simon." You help his mask back on and the two of you head inside.
Simon would let out his feelings to Price sometime later when his head felt less foggy. For now, he was content to crash on the rickety old safehouse bed and koala cling to you till kingdom come.
Nuzzling up and holding you tightly, not letting you go for even a itty bitty millisecond.
And you were fine with that. You were glad you could be back with your family. Simon was glad to welcome you back. You'd be serving a lot of cuddle prison time. A strenuous task, but one all too rewarding.
Running your hand down the back of his head, scratching his back to help him relax and set himself at ease.
All he needed was to koala crush your soul into his soul, and then he'd be ok. Slowly, his eyes started to close after the exhaustion of the mission, but he fought to keep them open.
"I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise, I won't be going anywhere." You whisper to him.
"You promise?"
"I double swear it. I won't leave. I'll be right here."
He snuggled you impossibly closer and let his eyes close. He let his mind rest. His heart soak in you and heal. Slowly you could help mend what has fallen apart.
And cuddles were never a bad place to start...
1K notes · View notes
wraithlafitte · 4 months
Text
you're no femme fatale
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pairing: dean winchester x f!reader
CONTENT: use of y/n, dubcon (mission sequence), soft dom!reader, guided masturbation, light degradation (m!receiving), stripping, begging, scratching, hair pulling, handjob, exhibitionism if you squint
word count: 3.3k
a/n: anon request here! enjoy 🖤 honestly felt like i was scraping the bottom of the barrel to keep this interesting LOL hope it's what you wanted
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"No. No way in hell I'm doing that," you said, throwing up your hands and backing away from the table, littered with piles of Sam's research.
"Aw, come on, Y/N," Sam protested. "You're the only one of us that could do it."
"I am not entertaining some dirty old man for this," you snapped, snatching up a museum scan of the artifact you were supposed to steal. "We'll find another way."
"If there was another way, I'd be asking you to do that," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "This is the path of least resistance. You get in his office, slip it into your dress while he's not looking, and we'll come get you after ten minutes. That's it."
You huffed a sigh and crossed your arms.
Just then, Dean returned from his fast food run, greasy paper bags in hand. "Hey, nerds," he greeted impishly. "Grub's on."
You rolled your eyes as he plopped the bags right in the middle of Sam's papers.
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Dean asked, settling himself into a chair and unwrapping a double cheeseburger.
"You would know if you had stayed to help make it," you replied annoyedly.
Dean flicked his eyebrows. "No need to get testy."
Sam sighed, deciding to intervene before things got ugly. You and Dean weren't exactly known for getting along, tolerating each other just enough to get jobs done when you had to. This was mostly due to the fact that you thought Dean was a douchebag, and he just dished back whatever you threw at him.
"The best plan we've got so far is that Y/N seduces the guy," Sam explained.
Dean snorted, almost spitting out his too-large bite of burger. "I'm sorry what?"
"I figure we'll never be able to get in there during the event, since it'll be so locked down," Sam continued. "Our best bet is getting him to let one of us in."
"Have you seen her?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a once-over. "Not exactly the seducing type."
You looked down at your current outfit. Cargo pants and a mens t-shirt topped with a utility vest and a leather bomber jacket. He had a point, although not for the reasons he thought. You could dress up, you just chose to dress practically. More pockets for knives. No, you just weren't sure you'd be able to convince the man you wanted him. Seventy-something sleazebags weren't exactly high on your to-fuck list.
"For once, I agree with Dean." You tossed the photo back onto the table. "Can we think of something else, please?"
"Yeah, as much as I'd like to see her try and pretty up to get in some old dude's pants, there's gotta be a more surefire way," Dean said with his mouth full. "Cuz you're no femme fatale," he added pointedly.
You were getting a little annoyed at his jabs. "You don't think I can do it?" you asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
"Sister, I don't think you could seduce a virgin," Dean scoffed.
You turned to Sam, bristling. "That's it then. I'll do it."
"What?" Dean said loudly through his half-chewed bite.
Sam looked at you with concern. "Are you sure? Just because Dean-"
"I'm sure." You set your jaw confidently. "Let's go to the charity event."
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"We're heading out to the car," Sam called through the bathroom door, where you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup.
"Be right there," you called back, surveying yourself in the mirror. Not bad, you thought, considering the last time you put on this much makeup was prom night. You had tried to go for something an old man would like: a classic red lip and smoky eye that paired pretty well with the vintage-looking slinky black satin dress you'd found at the thrift store around the corner. It went down to your ankles, showing off your heels, and had a long slit that made its way up your leg to your hip.
You threw your coat on and hurried out the door, hopping into the backseat of the Impala. Sam glanced at you in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, but Dean didn't spare you a second glance. You were annoyed, since half the reason you were doing this was to prove him wrong, but there would be plenty of time to show off later.
As the Impala peeled out of the hotel parking lot, you took a deep swig from the flask you kept in your coat pocket. This better work.
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Neither of the boys helped you out of the car when you arrived.
"Chivalry is dead," you announced after almost stumbling onto your face getting out. You tossed your coat back into the backseat, revealing your outfit to the two hunters.
Suddenly Sam was all-too-eager to offer you his arm, and the two of you headed inside, Dean close behind. You hadn't missed the way his eyes widened when you dropped your coat, so you swung your hips a little as you walked. That'll show him.
The plan worked better than you could have hoped. The sleazy old something-inaire led you to his office, hand wrapped around your waist as you clung to his arm, pretending to laugh at his stupid sexist old man jokes.
As he clicked the heavy oak door shut, you quickly scanned the room, trying to find the artifact you came for. There. On his desk. All you had to do was grab it, and-
The old man grabbed you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. "Where were we, sweetheart?"
Insides roiling with disgust, you turned around and placed your hands on his chest, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. "Right here," you said cattily, batting your eyelashes as you grabbed him by the lapels and led him backwards to the desk.
Here goes nothing, you thought, and pulled the old guy in for a kiss. Trying to ignore the way his tongue dug into your mouth, you felt around behind you for the artifact.
Got it. You quickly palmed the object and broke the kiss, looking up at the old man through your lashes. Now Sam or Dean was gonna bust down the door, claiming you as his missing drunk sister.
Aaaaany minute now.
The old man smiled wolfishly and you felt his hands creeping lower, lower, until he grabbed your ass firmly, jerking you closer to him and capturing your lips again.
Your heart hammered in your chest. This was not going how it was supposed to. You tried to wiggle away, but the guy was surprisingly strong for his age.
"Where you going, baby?" he asked, eyes glinting.
"I think I- I have to go," you said, aware that you were sounding a little panicked.
"You wanted this," he reminded you, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He swung you around and pushed you into the leather couch across from the desk. You tried to scramble up, but it was hard with your tight dress and the artifact still clutched in your hand, desperately being concealed, so the old man grabbed you easily by the hair, forcing you to stay down.
"Now why don't we put those pretty lips to use?"
The door swung open with a bang. The old man looked up, startled, releasing his death grip on your hair.
"There you are," came the fake-laughing voice of Dean.
"Who are you?" demanded the old man. "Get out of here!"
"Sorry man, this is my sister," Dean said, raising his hands apologetically. "She gets really hammered, acts like a slut. Gotta get her home." He helped you up, and you smiled and giggled, putting on the drunk-girl act.
Dean helped you hurry out of the room, the old man looking disappointed and angry at being cockblocked.
"Thanks," you whispered once you were down the hall and out of earshot. "What a creep."
"Please tell me you got it," Dean said darkly, weaving you through the crowd. You slipped the artifact into his suit pocket, giving it a pat for good measure.
"Didn't do that for nothing." You winked at him and pushed him away to walk the rest of the way to the car on your own two feet.
Dean stared after you, dumbfounded. He tried not to fixate on the way your hips swayed in that dress as you walked away proudly. God, that dress! It hugged your body perfectly, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing you all night. His cock was semi-hard in his dress pants, an annoying reminder of just how much you'd proved him wrong.
"Come on, dickhead," you yelled out the back window of the Impala. Dean realized starkly that he had stopped in place thinking about your tits.
"Dammit," he muttered, hurrying around to the driver's seat.
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The three of you piled into your hotel room to debrief from the mission. You assured the boys that you were alright from your creepy encounter with the old guy, and that stealing the artifact was worth it. The way Dean watched you raptly as you began to disrobe was not lost on you.
"I've dealt with worse in my time," you reminded them, shaking out your hair. "I'm a solo female hunter. Sleazy men hit on me literally wherever I go." You plopped down on the bed and pulled your stockings off one by one.
"As long as you're sure," Sam said, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna head back over to our room to get some sleep. You coming, Dean?"
Dean snapped out of his fantasy. "Uh, no. I'll be there in a little bit. Gotta talk to her about something."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Just don't bite each other's head off." And with that, he was gone.
You watched Dean from the shadows of the half-lit room. When he made no move to say anything, you did. "What do you need to talk about?" you asked, knowing full well. "Gonna say sorry cuz of how wrong you were?"
Dean flicked his eyes up to yours. Where had he been looking before?
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. You did good."
You stood and sauntered over to where he sat in a straight-backed chair by the dresser. "But that's not all, is it?" You smirked at him and looked him up and down, gaze lingering on his crotch, where a tent had begun to form.
Dean covered his bulge with his hand and pressed down, growling. "You were a little too good."
"So, what? You stayed because you want me to help with that?" you teased, coming closer.
"Yeah," Dean said roughly, standing quickly.
"No," you said bluntly, taking him by the shoulder and pushing him back into the chair.
Dean grimaced. "Why? Please," he begged, face twisted in arousal.
You giggled. "Wow."
"What?" Dean snapped, eyes cracking open.
"Nothing," you said, smirking. "You could beg a little more, might help." You felt your own arousal start to pool in your panties.
"Please, Y/N." Dean looked up at you with wild eyes, squeezing his cock through his pants.
"Please what?" You cocked your head.
"Please... make me cum," he said finally, eyes dropping to your midriff, unwilling to hold your gaze.
You tilted his chin up so he would look at you again, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction that you had somehow reduced him to this begging, horny mess in the chair before you.
"All you had to do was ask," you said softly. You backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Dean started to get up and follow you.
"No," you said, holding up a red-manicured finger. "Sit back down." You pointed.
Dean frowned but did as he was told. You smiled, delighted.
"You're having way too much fun with this," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry what was that?" you asked with a stern expression. "Do you want to cum or not?"
Dean's dick twitched in his pants. The way you bossed him around was really turning him on. "Nothing."
"That's what I thought." You twirled your hair thoughtfully. Dean whined impatiently.
"Tsk, tsk." You crossed your legs at an angle where he could almost see through the slit into your crotch. "Take your cock out."
Dean was all too happy to oblige, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants faster than you could say desperate, hiking up his dress shirt in the process.
"Wait," you interrupted before he could go any further. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt, too. Wouldn't want to make a mess." You smirked.
"Okay," Dean agreed breathily, practically tearing the two sides of the shirt from each other, exposing his muscular torso. You had seen him shirtless before, but there was something about the way he was breathing, stomach rising and falling quickly as he panted, that turned you on when it wouldn't normally.
"Now you can take your dick out," you said. You held your breath a little as his cock came into view. He was fully hard now, and dripping. He squeezed the base, moaning.
"Now what?" he asked, eyes shut as he lightly stroked his cock with his fingertips.
"You need me to tell you how to jack off?" you asked meanly. To your surprise, Dean moaned loudly at that.
He began stroking his cock, slowly at first, building up speed as he could no longer contain himself. A near-constant string of quiet whimpers and moans fell from his lips. You took note of the way he swiped his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading it around to aid his fingers.
"Look at me," you instructed. You wanted to see that wild look in his eyes again, and were instantly rewarded as his eyes flew open to meet yours. His mouth fell open as he gasped when he saw you.
"Forget I was here?" you teased. Dean gulped and shook his head vehemently. His hand slowed, and he started tugging himself less frantically, holding eye contact with you intensely.
"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "You're so hot, wanna see you."
You smirked. "Only because you admitted it." You hiked up your skirt, spreading the slit open so he could see your black lace panties.
Dean devoured your skin with his eyes, rubbing the head of his cock in circles with his thumb.
You dropped the straps of your dress so that they hung loosely around your shoulders and ran your long nails across your collarbones, petting your shoulders. Then you took hold of the neckline and pulled it down, freeing your tits from the dress.
"Better than I imagined, baby," Dean groaned at the sight, as his hips bucked into his hand.
You took one of your breasts in your hand, squeezing it towards your chest. "You imagined?" you lilted, smiling.
"Been thinkin' about you all night," he admitted shamelessly. "How good your tits looked in that dress. How good- ngh- you looked walkin' away from me."
Your other hand started creeping into your skirt. "Thought I couldn't even seduce a virgin. What does that make you?"
Dean growled, jerking his cock faster. "I don't- fuck-"
"Maybe you're just a manwhore," you purred, hopping off the bed to approach him.
"Please," Dean gasped, tossing his head back. "I need you."
You scoffed. "I'm not that lacking in self-respect." You lightly scratched your fingernails down the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, groaning, hand stilling.
You leaned in to murmur in his ear. "No, you're gonna take care of this all... by... yourself." You laced your fingers into his short hair, scratching his scalp, and pulled his head back. He relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling.
"So take care of it," you remind him harshly, giving his hair a hard tug before letting go. Dean raised his head hazily and began to stroke his dick again, gasping. It was angry red, practically begging for release, but Dean seemed determined to tease himself until he couldn't take it anymore, which you suspected would be soon.
You turned your back to him and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle. You heard Dean moan softly, sound of skin rubbing skin growing faster. You smiled to yourself as an idea occurred to you.
Against a backdrop of street lamplight coming through the window and lewd noises coming from Dean, you padded barefoot wearing only your underwear to the other side of the bed, where your pajamas lay folded neatly on the nightstand. You unfolded them and spread them out on the bed.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked hoarsely. "Don't- please stay- I need to see you," he whimpered finally.
You ignored him, as you had been planning to do, and put your pajamas on dramatically slowly to the soundtrack of Dean begging you to stop, stay naked, help him.
You turned back to him when you were finished and a rush of arousal hit you at the sight: Dean, cock in hand, sitting exactly where you had left him, sweaty and gasping and looking at you with a wild, desperate expression. You moaned softly in spite of yourself.
"Poor baby," you pout, rounding the bed to sit next to him again. "Haven't you come yet?"
Dean's hand was working overtime, forearm muscles flexing and rippling beneath his skin where his sleeve was rolled up.
"Can't," he breathed.
"You can't come?" You feigned surprise, even though you had known for several minutes that he was probably going to wait for your permission.
"Need you," Dean panted. "Can't do it- mm- without you."
"Sure you can," you said, running your nails down his chest. He shivered intensely.
Dean whimpered, face contorting in frustration. "I can't."
"What, I got you so turned on you can't even jack off without me?" you tease, fingertips stopping right above his happy trail.
"Please touch me."
"I am touching you," you reply smoothly, digging your fingers into his stomach.
Dean rolled his eyes, although you weren't sure if it was sass or pleasure. "Please," he insisted, whining.
"Useless." You replaced his hand with yours, gripping his cock tightly as you stroked it for him. "Can't even make yourself come without my help."
Dean went slack-jawed, head falling back once more. "Uh-huh," he moaned breathily. He ground his hips upwards, trying to find more pressure or friction or something but getting nothing but what you gave him.
"You're a useless whore, right?" you taunted. He would tell you if you went too far, right?
"Yes," Dean groaned loudly. You almost clapped your hand over his mouth, certain that Sam could hear through the walls.
"Shhh, be quiet baby," you said instead. You swiped your thumb over the head of his dick and he hissed, biting his lip. Your other hand went down to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze.
Suddenly Dean's whole body tensed and his eyes flew open. "Shit- I'm so close, please," he panted. His abs flexed, indicating that he was telling the truth.
You increased the pressure on both hands slightly. "Go on then."
Dean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled gasp and a groan as he came, spurting over his stomach and your hands. You kept pumping, using his cum to aid your efforts, until he was begging you to stop between gasping breaths. Only then did you let go of him, admiring your handiwork.
One Dean Winchester (formerly unbelieving of your sexual prowess), spread over a chair, covered in cum, sweaty and panting and utterly fucked out.
"Thank you," he whispered weakly after a moment.
"Will you ever doubt me again?" you asked, smirking.
He rolled his head to the side to look at you. "No. Fuck, that was hot." Dean grinned. "Actually, I changed my mind. Maybe I should doubt you more often."
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Winchester. Clean up and go to bed."
Dean got out of the chair stiffly, winked at you, and went to do as he was told.
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dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Text
Firsts IV
Hardersson x Preteen!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your first period
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You've just come home from school when you ask about it.
It was one of the rare days you went in, an English test that you couldn't miss but Magda knew you would ace. You'd only been in for half a day and one of your friend's mothers had driven you back instead of making you take the bus.
Magda's typing away at her laptop when you come in, toeing off your shoes and moving your portable phone charger from your school bag into the training bag waiting by the door.
You dip into the kitchen to grab a snack.
"Morsa?" You call.
"Hmm, yeah?" Magda doesn't take her eye off her screen.
"Where are the sanitary pads?"
"Er..." Magda has to think for a moment. She hasn't used one in a while. "Cabinet in the downstairs bathroom, I think? Why?"
You give her an odd look as you pass on your way there. "I started my period at school today."
"Oh, okay." She nods and goes back to typing.
It's only when you disappear into the bathroom, that her brain catches up with what you've said.
"What do you mean you've started your period?! Princesse? Princesse!"
You return a few minutes later. "I started my period."
"You're twelve!"
You give her another odd look, little crinkle between your brows. "I know, Morsa. I'm old enough to have one now."
Magda looks around wildly, looking for any support she can get but Pernille's still at work and it's just her with you.
"Okay," She says, more to herself than anyone else," Okay. Right, your period." Her throat bobs. "Alright, so...Periods are when-"
"Morsa, are you trying to give me the talk?"
"Listen," Magda says," I know this is going to be awkward but stay with me here. We're going to work through this together. Periods are when-"
"Morsa...I've already been given the talk."
Magda's world comes crashing down. "What do you mean you've already been given the talk?!"
"We went over it in biology," You say with a shrug," And I've already taken some painkillers." You frown. "Am I still okay to go to practice tonight?"
Magda's not keeping up at all as her mouth hangs open and she tries to equate your age with the fact that you've started your period. It didn't make sense at all.
You still slept with your plushies. You couldn't be nearly old enough to start your period, let alone rummaging around the period products without a care in the world. Magda doesn't think she's overreacting but you're being strangely calm about this all, your only worry being about if you would still be able to go to training.
"Okay," Magda says even though none of this is even remotely okay," So...You started your period at school?"
"Yeah but some of my friends had pads that I can use so it's not a big deal."
You're being so nonchalant about this that Magda is really worrying she's ended up in some alternate universe where she's being outrageously hysterical about this whole thing.
"And you've already taken some painkillers?"
"Yes."
"And you're wondering if you're allowed to go to practice today?"
"Morsa? Are you okay? You've been acting a little weird..."
"I'm not acting weird!" Magda's voice goes embarrassingly high pitched. "This is all completely fine! Better than fine! Amazing!"
The look you're giving her is clearly one of worry and you cautiously reach the back of your hand up to measure her temperature.
"What's going on?" Pernille comes in just as you place your hand on Magda's forehead.
"Morsa's acting weird," You declare," And she's not answering my questions."
"I'll answer your questions," Pernille says as she hangs up her coat and unlaces her shoes," What do you want to know?"
"Can I still go to practice even though I've started my period?"
"You've started your period? Well done, princesse. If you still want to go to practice then go. Just make sure to snack a little bit during breaks and keep drinking. Have you taken painkillers?"
You nod.
"Take some with you, just in case. Now, what's wrong with your Morsa?"
You shrug. "I don't know. She's been acting weird ever since I got back."
"Magda? Is something wrong?"
Mutely, Magda shakes her head. Pernille's being calm too. Maybe she is blowing this out of proportion.
"Just...Work stuff is a little stressful," She lies, not wanting to admit that the idea of you having started your period is stressing her out.
Thankfully, both you and Pernille seem to take that as fact.
"Well," Pernille says, turning back to you," I'll log it in my calendar and we'll start tracking them. The first few are going to be a little bit irregular so we'll see how it goes. Once they're more consistent, we'll talk about moving you onto tampons, if you want. They're a bit easier to play with."
Magda stays rooted to the sofa. She's going to have to come to terms with you starting your periods but the idea of you using tampons is a bit too big for her to cope with at the moment.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
in a hotchy mood you say? 🤨
i like it when we make that old man flustered 😌
wouldn’t it be fun if we ran into the team hanging out at a bar & they all are eyeing us like 😏 hold up she’s cute and hotch is trying to keep his cool.
When Aaron returns to the slightly sticky, loose-screwed bar table that his team is stationed at, Emily is tugging down the neckline of her shirt and tucking her elbows beneath her chest.
"There," She puffs, pulling at individual strands of hair so that they frame her face, "Does that look okay?"
"You look hot," JJ admits, sipping the drink she takes from Hotch with a nod of appreciation, "Only way she'll say no is if she's totally and completely straight."
"That's what I'm counting on," Derek props his elbows up on the table, forearms flexed.
"God, let's hope not," Emily cringes in anticipation of rejection, "Oh- she's coming this way!"
Aaron typically has no interest in his coworkers' escapades. Well, he'll admit, it's fun to gossip with Penelope over them later, but she's in on this one, too, shiny eyes glued to whoever the team has their eyes on.
He finally decides to follow Penelope's starstruck eyeline, and- oh, fuck, that's his girlfriend. You're staring straight back at him, but Emily's wishful thinking has made her think your eyes are on her, and Aaron can hear her breathe out a low sigh.
You send him a flirty little wave, and Emily nearly hits her head on the table.
"God, god! I can't," She laughs, still holding what she thinks is eye contact with you, "I don't think I can do this, I mean, I can never come back from this if it doesn't go well!"
"I'll step in," Derek assures her, sending you a wink that Aaron is sure just makes you laugh inside, "Don't worry, Emily. Some women aren't for the faint of heart."
"And they're not for the dumb of ass, either." Penelope sets a comforting hand on Derek's muscled shoulder, "Stay out of this one, Hotshot."
Aaron doesn't really know what to do. He's not usually lost like this, but half of his team is eye-fucking his girlfriend from across a bar like animals, and he doesn't know how to tell them he's seen you naked. Multiple times.
You break the eye contact when your friend taps your shoulder to tell you something, and Aaron does too. He sends subtle glances your way afterwards, but so does the rest of the team, and he isn't noticed. It seems like you're preoccupied for a while, because no new comments are made, but everyone can see Spencer combing his fingers through his hair every ten seconds.
He's sipping casually at his drink, about to speak to Rossi, when he feels a hand slide beneath the fabric of his suit jacket that he hasn't had time to take off yet, and hook around his waist. His first instinct is to tense, to reach for his side, even, but then a familiar scent washes over him and calms his nerves before they're burning for long.
"Hi," You croon, pressing yourself to his side, "I'm Y/N. You must be Aaron's team?"
There's tense silence so thick around the table that a bullet would pierce it, broken only by Rossi's snort into his glass.
"Yes," Aaron fills in, hand flying to your waist and hooking around it proudly, "Emily," He gestures with his free hand, "Derek, Spencer, Penelope, JJ, and Dave."
"Hi," You wave sweetly, albeit awkwardly, much like you're a kid new to a classroom, "It's nice to finally meet you all."
"You're, uh," Penelope stammers, blinking slowly, "You and Hotch- you're...?"
"We've been seeing each other, yes." Aaron nods once, then turns to you, "Honey, do you want me to get you your usual over here? You can join us for a round if your friends are busy."
When you peer back over at them, they're sucking each others' faces.
"Yeah, they're busy." You scoff, leaning into Aaron's shoulder, "That would be nice. Thanks, Aaron."
"Mhm," He ushers you into his chair, and he'll admit to drawing sick satisfaction from smoothing his hands up your shoulders and planting a firm kiss to your cheek before he leaves. He's even more smug when you lean into it with a warm-cheeked smile.
"Get to know each other," He prompts his team members, already stepping away, "And Derek, you can roll your sleeves down."
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ohimsummer · 4 months
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✎ . . .❝ WELL, THAT'S MIGHTY HARD TO DO. ❞
— minors dni, slightly perverted suguru, suggestive if you read between the lines, this is in the poly! satosugu verse but they’re not together yet, age range 20-21
⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ kind of an old draft :p not what I planned originally for his bday but I’ll post the other thing l8r :3
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"I'm gonna go get some cigarettes."
Shoko heads into the convenience store, leaving you standing between both your very tall boys. Satoru has a heavy arm slung around your shoulder, tinkering around on his phone as he leans onto you. The shelves of random snacks and drinks inside catch your eye, a colorful assortment of sweets and savory tidbits–
"Oh!," you squeal and jolt forward out of Satoru's arms, gaping at his dark-haired friend. "Suguru, stoo-oop!" There's a mischievous grin on his face, and Geto chuckles at the childish stamp of your feet, your bratty whine. "I'm going in the store!"
Both men watch you scurry away, holding your skirt down over your ass as you disappear inside to find Shoko. Peering over his glasses, Gojo raises an eyebrow at Suguru. "What's her deal?"
"Nothing."
White brows knit together, and he pushes the sunglasses back up. "Ugh, fiiine. I'll just ask her."
Suguru tilts his head. "And you think she’d admit something like that?”
"Something like what? Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
A second passes. "You’ll do something worse."
Satoru lets out a small laugh, shoving his phone in his pocket. "Can't do that if I don't have any context, can I?"
"Exactly."
"Shut up."
They steadily watch the entrance, eyeing you up as you and Shoko eventually exit the convenience store. Gojo doesn't miss the way your eyes narrow at Suguru, who only gives an innocent smile in return. You make sure to stand on Satoru's other side, putting him between you and Geto. He leans over a little, whisper-shouting in your ear.
"What'd you run off for?," Gojo asks.
You glance at him, then at Suguru who's holding a lighter out for Shoko's cigarette. "Your boyfriend's being a little pervert."
"Perver–," Gojo interrupts himself with an incredulous, "Wha–, boyfriend?"
"He keeps pinching me.," you giggle at Satoru's flabberghasted expression. "So make sure–," and you say a little louder, just so Geto can hear, "–Suguru keeps his hands to himself."
The same man perks up at the sound of his name. Geto smirks at you, brows raised. "Oh? Did I do something, Y/N?"
Lip jutting out, your pout momentarily falters as Satoru replaces his arm around your shoulders. "Just keep your hands off me."
"Well, that's mighty hard to do."
"You're cringe, Suguru.," Shoko grimaces at him, and blows a puff of smoke in his face that he waves away.
"Whatever.," Geto chuckles.
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tagz: @anthoosies
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katsukikitten · 1 year
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Handing Katsuki father's day cards that are for his own dad or yours and he needs to "read and sign it" but as he's reading it his brow starts to furrows.
"Sweetheart, ya got the wrong cards." He's reading it for the third time now.
"I got the right ones." You're trying not to giggle before he's rolling his eyes and reading the card aloud.
"You're not just an amazing father," he flips it open, "You're going to be an amazing grandfather too."
"Yea baby that's the right card." You hum, stepping into the kitchen to get the final card and present.
"Baby, it isn't. We don't have kids. Unless ya mean our cats but then they've been grandparents." He tosses the card down, rising to help you find the backups he's assuming you're looking for. This wasn't the first year you'd accidently gotten the wrong card or one that was just slightly off, he thinks nothing of the message.
Barely had any caffeine as the two of you rose early to get ready to host his parents and yours.
"Katsuki, it is the right card." You say, pressing another card into his hands, no envelope or anything. Just thick white card stock with black letters and an image of white new balance shoes.
"It's almost time for these bad boys." He scoffs, looking at what the world has deemed the official dad shoe, he looks up to see a box in your hands, "Sweetheart, what the fuck? I hate these ugly ass shoes. Ya know that."
He's got this smile to his face the one where he thinks you're being too playful and silly, every now and again you two get each other gag gifts. You're surprised he hadn't caught on yet especially since you always joked that the second you knew, you'd be getting him "those ugly ass dad shoes."
"I know." You both share a laugh, you pressing the shoe box into hands, "Just open it. They'll be fun to wear today, goes with the theme."
"What's the fuckin theme? Dads?" He opens the box and sees the shoes but something is taped to the top of the box. A grainy picture in black and white, a blob in the circle and when he lets his eyes focus as best they can without his glasses perched on his nose, he thinks he sees a very specific shape.
He rips it from the box, bringing the film closer and yes he can see a nose and his face morphs into complete surprise. You giggle as you watch him figure it out, which you swore you wouldn't be able to get this far without him figuring out why you'd been feeling so sick lately.
"No fuckin way." It's low and for a split second you think he isn't excited, then he locks eyes with you and he gives you that look. The one where he's smiling but his brows furrow up and his eyes aglow with unshed tears like you are his world, like you're giving him the world, and he's putting the shoes down to gently pick you up and twirl you around.
"A baby. We're having a fucking baby." He's pressing kisses to your cheeks when he sets you on your feet, if you thought you were spoiled before you'd be rotten by the time this pregnancy was done.
"A baby." You repeat back to him, your own excited tears clinging to your lashes, ones Katsuki gently kisses away.
"How long?"
"Three months. It was really hard to keep a secret but I really wanted to do that shoe thing I teased you about. I've got the receipt so we can return them I'll-"
"Nah I've got the perfect idea for 'em."
An hour later after a shared shower and rapid fire questions, Bakugou is coming down the stairs, he's got some ugly ass jean jorts you gifted him as a gag for his birthday two years ago before giving him his real gift and one of his dad's old white tees he tucked into the waist band of the shorts and of course his new white new balance shoes.
"You look ridiculous." You giggle in your sundress, somehow he made the outfit a little hot. You were sure Bakugou could make anything look hot and here was living proof.
"Better get used to it Sweetheart, this is how I'm gonna look when I put another one in ya." He puffs his chest out, smoothing his big palms over his shirt as you roll your eyes.
"I've made a monster." The door bell rings, when you go to rise, Katsuki gently presses you back into the couch by your shoulder as he gets the door for his parents. He opens the door with a sense of pride that comes with being the cocky pro hero, looking much larger than life.
His mother is unphased.
"Oi, I brought that stuff you- Why are you dressed like a fuckin dad from the 90s?" Mitsuki makes a face before she processes what he's wearing, "Oh my fucking GOD OH MY FUCKING GOD MASARU! WE'RE GONNA BE GRANDPARENTS. YER GONNA BE A GRANDPA! RIGHT RIGHT?"
She pushes past her son, a quick squeeze to his forearm before she's honing in on the daughter in law she already adored and now even more.
Masaru quirks his brow and Katsuki nods.
"I'm so happy for you son." He hugs Katsuki the way men do, a quick tight squeeze before a clap on the back, Masaru tries not to let the tears slip past his eyes as Katsuki's life plays on fast forward in Masaru's mind. He remembers how Mitsuki told him they were expecting, remembers holding him for the first time and thought his whole world view shattered and changed. Remembers his first words and steps. Remembers his first mishap with his quirk and how Katsuki had blown the coffee table sky high. He remembers him growing taller and taller, going to UA, figuring out how to be a better person as he grew in size. How Katsuki called him and his ma in the middle of the night the first time he hit the top ten rankings. And again when he was number one.
How he took his dad out to lunch, wiping his palms on his pants like he did when he was nervous to ask his dad how he asked Mitsuki to marry him. He smiles, tears slip past anyway as he stares at his broad shouldered son adding one final comment that makes Katsuki's throat close up in the best way.
"I can't wait to watch them grow up to be as great as their parents and more."
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aestherin · 1 year
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seatmates | scaramouche x gn! reader
a random drabble i thought of at school bc of course my mind is floating :D
i was scrolling thru my drafts when i found this i totally did not forget about this i swear </3 also not proofread bc i don't have any braincells left :DD
wc: 589
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You have always hated two-person desks.
Especially those that are too narrow you and your seatmate practically have to be squished against each other in order for both of you to fully utilize the desk.
"Fucking move," Scaramouche hissed.
"No, you," you pushed against his arm which had bumped into yours earlier.
He sent death glares your way, all of which you paid no attention to. After almost a year of sitting next to each other, it was second nature to build a system that's immune to the silent and furious side-eyes of an angry cat. How long has it been? Ah.
It all started when you made the grave mistake of being late for the first day of classes. No one else wanted to sit next to the menace that is currently sending daggers your way, and so you ended up sitting on the remaining available spot — the one beside Scaramouche.
The experience wasn't all that bad, though.
Sure, sitting beside him felt like being together with a grumpy old man, but even he had some soft moments. Like when he'd let you peek at his notes when you don't understand what the lecturer was babbling about (this comes with some mockery from him, but you shrug them all off).
Or like that one time you were shivering from the AC and he let you borrow his hoodie (this came with him uttering lighthearted remarks about how you should always be prepared because what if he wasn't there to lend his hoodie? Just what are you going to do without him?)
You returned it immediately after getting it washed but he told you to keep it. It's now your favorite hoodie.
Sitting next to Scaramouche was a give-and-take situation. He would begrudgingly lend you a hand, and you would do the same. He used to disturb you from whatever you were doing just to borrow your correction tape so many times that at one point, you just laid it out on your desk, free for him to use. Luckily, he got the message and just started using it whenever he needed to. Was it just your imagination or did he really start needing the correction tape less when you just laid the thing out on the desk?
He also once left his earphones at home and kept bugging you to let him listen to whatever was playing through yours because he swears even your trashy music taste is much more bearable than listening to whatever your classmates were chattering about.
That's what he said but he now listens religiously to the playlist you've been playing on repeat.
As an attempt to get back at you for what you did earlier, he bumped his arm against yours — which was writing notes, at the moment.
Across the organized scribbling of letters and words on a page of your notebook was now a long, thick line of black ballpoint pen ink. You gasped, mouth ajar at the painful sight of a mess.
"Dude! What the fuck?" You sharply turned your head towards him, only to find that he'd already looked away from you.
"Scara, you bit—"
He only sighed.
Your attention was swayed by him slowly and gently intertwining both of your hands above the desk.
"Don't worry about it. I'll rewrite your notes for you later."
He finally gazed back at you. Blood rushed up your face as he used his hand to guide yours to his lips, pressing a light kiss.
"At least after we eat out for dinner."
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