#welcome to the big brain house

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

some misc Barn & Wally doodles from the past week or so <3 i heart them

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.

It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.

He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.

~*~

It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.

Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.

Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?

Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.

Holy fuck… he’s big.

Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.

A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm

And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.

“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.

Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.

“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.

You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”

His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.

“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”

A fucking gentleman.

All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.

It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”

He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”

If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.

“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“

“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.

Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”

He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”

“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”

His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“

“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.

He answers without fear or pause. “You.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[scribbledghost]

Simon having sex with reader on the Thanksgiving dinner table? Maybe he comes home from work really late to a table full of food and reader looking pretty as ever, and he decides to show his gratitude.🥴😏

Welcome Home

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,009

Warnings: oral (F receiving), table sex, dirty talk, praise, use of "good girl", tongue clicks from Simon

Note: Everyone say "Thank you @sillylittlereader " for fueling my feral Scribs-brained behavior (Also everyone say "thank you anon" bc that addition made me literally lol). Gonna combine these two cause I caaaaaan. Happy Wanksgiving all! Hopefully yall enjoy my first attempt at full smut after many, many moons.

As soon as Simon opens the front door and steps inside, he knows he's in for a good evening.

The smell of food hits him immediately, the house warmer than usual from where you'd been cooking. He discards his boots and follows the scent into the kitchen, where he finds you milling about and putting another dish onto the counter. It joins several others, and he's quick to notice at least a couple of his favorites.

"Now what's all this?" He says with a grin. You look back at him with a matching look.

"Dinner," you say simply. "I know doing day work and training on-base isn't your favorite, so I figured I'd make a nice, big meal for you. Everything's on the counter, table's cleaned off, so all you have to do is make your plate and eat."

A warm feeling constricts Simon's chest, and he finds himself unable to resist striding towards you and pulling you in for a kiss.

And another.

And another.

As he parts from you, hands on your hips as you look at him with a lidded gaze, he realizes there's one thing he wants before he enjoys the work you've put into welcoming him home.

"I know it's technically bad form, love," he rumbles, guiding you by the hips back towards the table, "but maybe you could let me have dessert first, yeah?"

"Oh, I suppose I can allow it. Just this once," you reply with a sly grin that he matches.

With that, he hefts you up onto the table and takes a seat between your legs. 

He wastes little time lifting your shirt just enough to press a few hot, open-mouthed kisses to your stomach. From there, he helps you quickly divest yourself of your pants and underwear, grabbing both and helping you lift yourself from the table just long enough for him to pull both off in one fluid motion. 

When the garments land on the floor, Simon hooks his arms beneath your legs, pulls you closer to him, and buries his face in you.

If there is one thing Simon does well when he's not in the field, it's eating. He devours you like a man starved, like he'll never get another chance to taste you. He dips his tongue into you before sliding it up to your clit, kissing and sucking and lapping at you in a practiced manner he knows works. As much as he knows he should give you a few of his fingers to help stretch you open for what is to come, he can't help but forgo the courtesy, too invested in tasting your slick to waste any.

"Taste so fucking good, baby," he moans, "can't get enough of this cunt. Never get enough of you."

He's telling the truth. He could spend hours with his head buried between your thighs. In fact, he has before. He wonders if you'll be so kind as to let him do it again tomorrow morning; have him wake you with his tongue and continue like that until you start pushing him away.

But that's a thought for later. For now, he's got much more important matters to attend to.

He feels your hand grab his hair, a low groan tearing from his lungs as you pull him deeper into you. The hands on your skin tighten their grip, his brows knit together in concentration.

"That's it love," he says, voice muffled by your cunt, "take what you want from me."

Your hips buck against him and he follows, cock hard and twitching in his pants as you moan for him. He knows you're close by the way your thighs shake in his grasp, and he's determined to all but drag you over the edge.

Your breathing gets shallower, interspersed with staccato moans and whines. You breathe his name into the air, and Simon growls against your heat.

"That's it love," he encourages again, "be good and cum for me, yeah?"

With that, he returns to his task at hand, laser-focused on getting what he wants.

And what he wants is for you to smother him. What he wants is for you to envelop him, make it so nothing else so much as touches any of his senses.

He wants - no, needs - to make you feel good. To help you fall from the precipice and lose yourself to what he's giving you.

And fall you do.

With a sharp cry of his name, he feels your sex clench and twitch against his mouth as you come undone beneath him. He helps you through it, moaning soft, affirmative "mhm"s as you ride your orgasm to its end.

When you slump against him, muscles finally relaxing, he gives you one last lick with the flat of his tongue before moving to kiss your thighs.

"Good girl," he says softly, "so, so good for me."

He begins a slow ascent, nudging his nose against the hem of your shirt and pushing it upwards so he can mouth at the skin just beneath it.

After pressing a few more kisses to your abdomen and stomach, he stands, removing his shirt and using it to somewhat dry his face before discarding it. 

"Look so fuckin' pretty when you cum," he says as he leans in to kiss you properly. "Never gonna get tired of watchin' you."

Simon's hips rut against you as his tongue dips into your mouth, a light hum leaving him as he hears you whine softly.

"I know, baby," he murmurs apologetically against your lips, "I know you're still sensitive. Jus' can't help it, yeah? Wanna make sure you're nice and wet before I take you."

It's an excuse, and both of you know it. Simon knows you're plenty ready for him, especially after one orgasm, but he's allowing himself to be selfish. To give himself a taste of you before he devours you again in another way. In the depths of his brain, he wonders if some of your slick will coat his belt. Wonders if it will dry there, where he will carry it with him the next time he wears it to base. An invisible mark of ownership.

He could keep going, keep grinding against you until he comes undone without ever even removing his own pants.

But that simply will not do. Not for Simon. And after you whine again against his mouth, the overstimulation on your clit no doubt bordering on painful, he gives you mercy.

At least, that's what he tells himself as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, pushing them just far down enough with his briefs to release his cock from its confines.

"See what you do to me, love?" he says lowly as he slides gently against your heat, coating himself in a mix of your spend and his precum. 

Then, deciding he's had enough teasing for one afternoon, Simon begins the slow push into you.

He's not a small man, and he knows it. Saying so doesn't come from a place of inflated ego, but rather from real, practical experience, both with you and past lovers. He guides himself into you as gently as he's able, not wanting the pressure he knows you must feel to turn into pain.

But then, as his hips are about halfway to you, he notices something.

You've closed your eyes.

And, again, that simply will not do.

"Hey. Hey," he says gruffly before he clicks his tongue twice at you, "eyes open, love. Want you to look at me while I stuff you full."

You give him a bleary look, eyelids just barely obeying his command as he continues to push deeper into you. 

The pair of you erupt in joint moans when the front of his thighs meet your body. Simon leans forward to rest his forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

"Fuck, love, you feel so fucking good," he breathes into the space between you. 

"So do you," you answer in an equally breathless tone. 

Simon surges forward to kiss you, keeping his lips on yours as he begins to roll his hips. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you. 

As much as he wants to draw this out, as much as he wants to start slowly and build up until you're both tense and begging for release, he simply can't find it in himself to wait any longer. His hips seem to move of their own accord, snapping into you and punching moans from your lungs. 

When he pulls back for a moment to stand and watch your body, he notices that your eyes are once again closed as you're lost to the pleasure he's giving you.

"Show me those pretty eyes, love," he says softly. When you only whine in response, he reluctantly stills his thrusts.

"Hey, eyes on me," he says more harshly, once again clicking his tongue at you. "You open those eyes and look at me."

You slowly obey, and he feels you clench around him when he clicks his tongue. When he's satisfied that you're watching, he begins his thrusts again.

"There she is," he says breathlessly with a grin. "There's my girl."

He holds your gaze as he continues, fucking into you at an increasing pace. He is enraptured by you. By your voice, by your body, by your gaze. He chases his high, but quickly realizes there's something important that he's forgotten.

"Reach down and touch yourself for me, love," he commands. "Want you to give me one more before I fill you."

To your credit, you do as he asks, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit as he continues to thrust into you. The action catapults Simon impossibly closer to his peak, though by some grace he manages to hold himself together as you chase another orgasm.

It doesn't take as long as Simon assumes it will for you to come again. Or perhaps it does. Time has long since become an abstract concept to Simon, just as it always does when he's inside of you like this. Nevertheless, he feels your walls flutter around him as you sigh his name.

"Good girl," he croons to you as you come, "good girl."

Once you come down, he throws his self-restraint to the wind and surges towards his own orgasm in earnest. 

"Gonna cum, love," he says, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours again. "Gonna fill you up, make you mine."

You don't respond in words, but he feels a hand grab the back of his head as you pull his lips to yours. 

A groan rips through his body as Simon comes, stilling inside of you as his cock twitches. He moans out some approximation of your name against your lips as he loses himself.

An indeterminate amount of time later, when the two of you part and begin to catch your breath, you lock eyes.

And you both laugh.

A light, beautiful sound.

"Well, can't say I was expecting that," you say.

"Had to thank you somehow, love," he quips. 

He helps you to sit up, tucking himself back into his pants as he leaves his shirt on the floor and his belt unbuckled. He aids you in putting your pants and underwear back on, softly promising to help you shower after you both eat.

"After all," he says as he kisses you, "it'd be a tragedy to let all this food get any colder than it is already."

You laugh softly at him.

"And whose fault would that be, Mr. Riley?"

"Yours," he says with a teasing nip to your shoulder, "not my fault you looked good enough to eat."

The soft, good-natured groan you give him as you lightly shove him from you warms his heart. On the field, he prides himself on being cold, calculated, and for leaving little room for anything else. But here, in his home, with you by his side, he feels like the battlefield is a thousand years away.

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

[star-girl69]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.

a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey

******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT

warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.

And unknown places scare you.

There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.

You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.

You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.

It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.

She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.

“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.

You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.

Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.

That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.

She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.

As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”

Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”

You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.

“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.

“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.

Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.

“We have a mission for the two of you.”

“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”

The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.

Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.

“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.

Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.

“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”

Chiron presses his lips together.

“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.

“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”

Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.

Clarisse looks at you.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”

—-

“Y/N.”

You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.

Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.

But, Chiron needed to like you too.

You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.

It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.

She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.

She smiles.

“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”

“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.

If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.

And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.

Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.

“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”

Her face hardens.

“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”

You rip your hand away from her grip.

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”

“You’re crazy!”

—-

You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.

She looks up from her book and laughs.

“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.

“Mission,” you groan.

She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”

“With Clarisse.”

She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.

As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.

She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.

“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

You put your lips right up to her ear.

“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”

“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”

“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”

“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”

“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”

She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.

She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.

The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.

You put your hand on her face.

“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”

“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”

What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?

You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.

Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.

And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.

She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.

She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.

You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.

She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.

You look into Marley’s eyes now.

“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”

Marley kisses your cheek.

“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”

“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.

Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.

You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.

—-

The bus ride is boring.

Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.

But you’re bored.

You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.

It’s only been two months.

As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.

You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.

You miss her.

“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.

“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”

“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”

“What?”

Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.

“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”

“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”

She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.

She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.

But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.

“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.

—-

You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.

Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.

You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.

“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”

You realize your head is on her shoulder.

You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.

“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.

You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.

She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.

She’s right up in your ear.

“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”

The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.

You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.

“I’d kill it.”

You both know you probably couldn’t.

She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”

Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.

She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.

She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.

“Hm, mine.”

You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.

You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?

It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.

You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”

Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.

—-

You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.

“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.

You can want her, here, where no one will know.

You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.

The station is oddly busy.

You have this horribly uneasy feeling.

You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.

She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.

You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.

But you trust yourself.

“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.

She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.

She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.

“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”

“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.

Why is she so fucking confusing?

As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?

She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.

You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.

“Clarisse.”

She seems to see it too.

“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.

She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”

When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.

You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.

Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.

The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.

You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.

It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.

That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.

The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.

Something slams against the door.

You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.

“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.

The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.

It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.

“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.

“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.

Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.

You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”

It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.

The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-

Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.

It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.

It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.

You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.

She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-

You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.

No one would know.

Her spear falls to the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.

No one would know.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”

“No problem,” she says.

No one would know.

“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.

“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.

It’s so simple.

You both can get what you want from this trip.

“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”

“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.

You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.

You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.

You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.

No one else will ever come close.

“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”

She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.

—-

The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.

Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.

How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?

You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.

She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

—-

The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.

You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.

When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.

“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.

You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.

“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.

—-

The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.

“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.

“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.

Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.

Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.

You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.

“On your left!”

Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.

Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.

She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.

“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.

“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.

“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”

Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.

Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.

“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”

“Yeah, okay.”

—-

Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.

“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.

You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”

She stares at you for a moment.

“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.

Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.

Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.

“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.

It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.

“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”

She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.

“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.

“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.

She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.

“What are you thinking of getting?”

She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”

You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”

She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.

“What was that?”

She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.

You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.

Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.

“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”

You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.

You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.

“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.

“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”

“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”

“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”

The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.

“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”

“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”

You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.

You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.

“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.

—-

“Clarisse.”

She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.

“Clarisse,” you repeat.

She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.

“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”

“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”

“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.

—-

Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.

You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.

You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.

You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.

You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.

It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.

You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”

She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.

“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.

“Don’t be mean.”

You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.

“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.

“I. Don’t. Care.”

She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.

You whip around and point your finger at her.

“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”

Her smile falls.

“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”

Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.

—-

When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.

You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.

“Y/N.”

You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.

“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”

You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.

Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.

“A toy?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breathe hitches.

“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”

She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.

“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“I want you to let me love you.”

She lets go of your hand.

“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”

“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.

“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”

You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”

“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”

You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.

But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.

She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.

Your fingers dig into her back.

“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.

—-

“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.

Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.

You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.

Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.

It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.

You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.

Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.

You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.

He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.

“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.

Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”

Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.

Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.

Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.

—-

marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.

clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟

—-

clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO

—-

honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n

another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk @lacytalks

—-

pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!

[werecreature-addicted]

Wolfie bf taking care and providing for you while you live together in a cabin in the woods while you make food for him and make the place more homey ✨ him coming home to a warm meal and kisses and being so happy that he fucks your brains out by the fireplace and then you fall asleep in his arms with the background noise of the rain 🥹

God, literally the dream. Imagine living deep in the lush woods, in a homey cozy cabin you can spruce up however you like. Your werewolf lover likes to see your style reflected in your shared home. He's never really felt "lonely" living alone but the house feels more like a home, he can't imagine life any other way. You're pretty happy too, obviously, who wouldn't be with such a big tough monster to come home to every day?

He loves to sneak up behind you when you're cooking and pull you away from the kitchen or at least up onto the kitchen counter. shhh, dinner can wait he's not that hungry anyway- he wants his welcome home kisses.

it's hard to deny him because you want to kiss him, but you know that he's too greedy to settle for just one kiss. you know that if you give him more than a peck his big hands will slip to your waist, and push down your pants. He's had a long day and just wants to bury his wolf tongue deep inside of you, how can you complain about that?

You convince him to at least take you to the living room to eat you out and keep the counters clean. He always makes a mess when he eats you, not stopping until you're making a mess squirting on his face.

he breathes heavily, licking his lips as he looks down at your throbbing pussy. you can see his hard cock straining, begging for attention. "need to be in you," he whimpers, as he slowly glides his hard cock over your pussy.

"fuck me," you invite, and he does.

The two of you stay curled in each other's arms lying on the rug in front of the fireplace. you feel his knot go down but he doesn't pull away, you don't ask him to either. it's nice like this, wrapped in your werewolf's big arms, comfy in your perfect little home.

[jeon-ify]

warnings: threesome, twodicksonehole, size kink, degradation, titslapping, hairpulling, orgasm denial, choking, overstimulation, dom!san, dom!wooyoung, etc. If i missed anything, yk what to do!

“oh my god, fuck. sannie— its so big! i don’t know if i can take him woo—“ you whimper, shutting your legs closed to relieve the pain stinging between your legs as san pushes his thick cock into your tight cunt.

“you can, and you will. you wanted us to fuck you, we’re doing it, are we not?” san mocks your pain, feeling the way you tighten up around his length between your puffy folds.

no matter how many times he fucks you, you can never get used to his size— let alone wooyoung fucking the same hole san is.

they both fuck into you at the same pace, while sans fingers tug and slap at your titties. wooyoungs hand grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back onto his shoulder so he has easier access to sink his teeth into your shoulder.

“f-fuck, bite me harder, woo. make me bleed.” you and san both feel the way his cock twitches against the both of you, eliciting sharp moans out of you, and san grunting and tossing his head back onto the headboard behind him.

“such a slut. you should be a pornstar, let us fuck you on camera and everyone can watch what a cockdrunk whore you are for us. wooyoungie, do you think she should cum?”

san teases, but wooyoung teases harder.

“no, don’t let her cum. we’ll empty our cum in you, and you’ll walk around with it all fuckin’ week. you hear me? if you wanna cum, beg. beg for it.”

wooyoungs hand moves to wrap itself around your throat, as san puts his hand on top of wooyoungs, squeezing to break out a whimper from you, both choking you out to the point where you start seeing stars.

“maybe think with your brain and not your pussy for once, butterfly. beg us to let you cum and maybe we’ll let you cum.” san’s trying to help you, but he’s just not understanding that you are too overwhelmed and too fucked out to speak.

wooyoung pounds into you again, chasing his second orgasm. san speeds up his thrusts, pounding harder everytime you don’t respond the right way.

“please just let me cum, please. i’m taking the both of you at once, this is all i can fuckin’ take. feels so fucking good!! please let me cum, feel like im gonna explode—“ your body jolts and shakes at every thrust, san pulling you towards his face to give you a rough and hungry kiss. wooyoungs hand forms a ponytail with your hair, pulling you back and making you watch the way his lips envelope san’s in a deep throated kiss. their tongues swirling as strings of spit connect the two men.

“she’s cumming, sannie, fuckk—“

“atta girl, doing so fuckin’ good, ready to take our loads?”

you feel them empty themselves in you as you empty yourself onto their cocks, the feeling finally washing over you.

“my go- my godd, thank you, thank you thank you~”

“you’re welcome, baby. don’t fuck around at yeosangs house and maybe we wouldn’t have to stretch you out so harshly.”

san kisses your temple as your legs loosen up around his waist, and wooyoung stands up from behind you.

[astaroth1357]

"MC, Who's Best in Bed??":

*on an average HoL morning, the MC is trying to enjoy a cup of tea in the dining room but there's been nothing but shouting in the House for about an hour now... They’re nearly at their wits end when the seven culprits come marching in the room themselves, glaring at esch other. Before MC can even speak, Asmo takes initiative and slams his hands down onto the table, making their teacup clatter*

Asmo: MC, you have to be the one settle this! Which one of us is best in bed???

*the MC... almost does a spit take*

MC: Excuse me???

Mammon: You heard'em! You outta know by now, so who is it??

*the MC looks at their demons like they've gone mental, but seven pairs of eyes stare back at them expectantly, hell, even determinedly. Seeing that they likely can't weasel out of this, the MC gives in with a sigh*

MC: .... Do you really want to know?

Asmo: Of course!!

Satan: We promise we'll be alright with whoever you choose...

Mammon: But it's gonna be me, right??

Satan: Shut up, Mammon!! 😡

MC: Well... if I have to pick...

MC: It's gotta be Lucifer.

Lucifer: *smiles REAL wide for a guy who's been pretending that this conversation is juvenile and beneath him...*

Lucifer: Well. I think that settles that.

*he walks over and arrogantly kisses the back of MC's hand while his brothers all groan somewhere between irritation and disappointment...*

Mammon: Look what ya did, MC, he's never gonna get over himself now!!

Lucifer: Mammoooon?

Mammon: 😨 Shit!

MC: It is Mammon, actually.

Mammon: Eeh-?? Er, s-SEE I TOLD YA!!

*he tries to act proud, and he is, but it's pretty obvious to everyone that he got caught off guard and is flustered as hell*

Mammon: W-who else could it be but the Great Mammon? Right??? This is why I'm their first!!

*Mammon continues to loudly bluster and gloat as MC gets up from the table, taking their teacup with them*

MC: It sure is~

*they peck him on the cheek, which bluescreens his brain while his brothers scoff in disgust*

Belphie: Geez, at least get a room first guys... 🙄

MC: You won’t believe me, but it's Levi.

*the brother stop, collectively look at each other, and then shake their heads*

All (INCLUDING Levi): We don't believe you.

MC: *shrugs nonchalantly and takes another sip of tea* What'd I tell ya?

Asmo: MC, you can't be serious...

MC: *looks him dead in the eye* Two. Dicks. Need I say more? Because I can! He can also-mph!!

*a confused MC gets a hand clamped over their mouth by a mortified Levi, who's still puttering around to figure out how he should feel*

Levi: M-MC! Please...!! 😣

Satan: So there ARE some things that better left unknown... Fantastic... 😰🤢

MC: It’s actually you, Satan!

Satan: *blinks* Eh? Oh really...?

*already turning his head towards Lucifer with a BIG shit-eating grin*

Satan: What do you know? Looks like we've heard it, haven't we?

Lucifer: *angerily covering up his frustration behind a stone cold poker face* So we have... Not that it matters.

Satan: Hm. Your face says otherwise. 😏

Lucifer: Don't push your luck....

MC: Asmo. It's Asmo, it's obviously Asmo!!

Asmo: THANK YOU!!

Asmo: Honestly, it's like no one understands my job description here!!

Asmo: I can, will, and do fuck better than all of you! You just have to accept that. 😌

Mammon: Ugh! Give it a rest already... 😮‍💨

MC: You know what? It's Beel.

*the brothers stop and collectively look at their absolute UNIT of a sibling.... then breathe a combined sigh of defeat*

Beel: *flustered pink from embarrassment, but still very happy to hear it* Thank you, MC. 😊

MC: You're welcome, Beel! 🙂

MC: Weirdly enough, it's Belphie...

Belphie: What do you mean, "weirdly?"

MC: I mean, if we were just going based off resumes here, I wouldn't exactly put yours on top.

MC: But you're living proof "work smarter, not harder" are words to live by. Your technique is flawless!

Belphie: .... I'm not sure how to feel about this anymore....

Bonus:

MC: *gives a blank, thousand yard stare into the middle distance*

Mammon: Uhhhm.... MC? Still there?

MC: I just realized something... I'm really am going to Hell...

Levi: Huh? But you're already here...?

MC: *gets up from the chair and starts to jog away urgently* I think I need a priest...

Belphie: What? Why?? Is being here a problem to you??? 🤬

MC: *calls out as they skid past the doorway* It is because I'm fucking an angel!!! 😫

[beefrobeefcal]

the BEEF | #1: Joel Miller

Summary: no-outbreak AU, Joel has a headache and that headache wants his attention. [based on a prompt THOT up in collaboration with @strang3lov3]

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,833

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, angry fools who want to play hide the sausage, angry joel, shovel violence against a truck, monster cock, age gap (joel is in his 50's, reader is younger), p in the v (unwrapped), rough dresser sex,

Author's Notes: welcome to the BEEF. Each P-boy has a thorn in their side that has to be dealt with. Thank you to @covetyou for inspiring the idea, and thank you @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, @rebel-held & @bitchesuntitled for their brains and eyes.

and thank you to every friendo in the Bistro - it's all for you, babies.

Joel Miller was your street’s cranky asshole. No one dared throw a party or hold a garage sale without letting him know first. No one dared let their grass get over a certain length and the whole neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief when he would go out of a town and not see the kids scribble with chalk on the sidewalks in the summer. He never called the cops; no, instead he showed up and berated whoever was hosting an event or engaging in an activity he found offensive. And he was intimidating. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was built like a brick shithouse. You’d lived on the block for almost nine years, and in that time, Joel had gone from being a broad, sturdy single father to a single, empty nester who lived off HungryMan frozen meals. He was a big man with linebacker shoulders and a meaty chest stacked on top of a boulderous belly. His plaid button up shirts always looked like they were holding on for dear life to avoid his temper.

And you were utterly in love with him.

Before the most recent snowfall, you’d been in your room on your bed with the window open a crack to let in some fresh air. Right below your window was Joel’s front porch, and as soon as you heard his door fly open, you grabbed your vibrator and listened.

“Get off my lawn!”, you heard him bellow at who ever had dared to approach his house.

You smiled to yourself and turned on your purple silicon friend and shoved it in your underwear.

As Joel berated the hapless victim of his temper, you nudged yourself closer to the edge. As you did, you cared less about the volume of your cries and let your noises out at top volume. By the time you came, Joel was standing on his porch with his mouth agape, staring at your bedroom window and the offending party walked away with a look of disgust.

*****

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You watched as your snow shovel slipped out of your hands and hit your Joel’s truck. The one with the vanity plate ‘SM 9000’ that you had no clue what it meant. You could only sit back and watch as it fell and gouged in the paint job on Joel’s 1989 Dodge Ram pickup, your panties grew damp as you heard his front door open and slam against his house.

You turned around, raising your hands, trying to look like you were de-escalating the situation. “Joel, I-“

“The fuck’re you think you’re doin’?!”, he bellowed, stomping towards you.

As he yelled and flew into a tantrum over your shovel’s sins, you couldn’t help the stupid, lovesick half grin blooming on your face.

“… and you ain’t got no respect for no one’s property and…”, he stopped, took a breath, and looked you over, face twisting in a confused rage as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him as if he were a can of tuna and you were a cat watching him being pulled open ever so gently.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he yelled, stepping forward, trying to scare you to no avail. He huffed and stomped his foot, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

You sighed and tilted your head, loving the attention he was finally bestowing on you, not caring that your reaction was essentially dumping gasoline on a house fire.

“Fuckin’ disrespectful shit…”, he snarled as he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards his house.

“Joel? What’re you doing? Where we going?”, you asked with a big dumb grin on your face then wincing at the harsh grip he had on your elbow. Your boots slipped and skidded on the icy walkway and you tripped heading up the stairs.

“Fuckin’ clumsy dumbass…”, he grumbled, shoving you through his front door and slamming it behind you both.

You looked around his entry way, noting the ugly wallpaper and the stale cigarette smell lingering. You crinkled your nose, and he turned around, his frown deepening into a scowl.

“Boots off!”, he barked, harshly motioning to your feet.

You didn’t miss a beat and toed them off quickly, kicking them into the wall. His jaw clenched as he watched the dirty snow clumps slide slowly down, leaving wet patches on his yellow-turned-brown floral wallpaper.

His eyes snapped up to yours, expecting an apologetic look. Instead, he was met with…

“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me like a love sick puppy?”

Joel was enraged. You didn’t run away or beg for forgiveness. No. You stood in his entry way, kicking your boots and making a mess, looking like he was David Cassidy or Patrick Swayze. You smiled back softly and that was the last straw for him.

“WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

You could have cum right there. Joel Miller was yelling right in your face. You’d gotten off by listening to him lose his shit at anyone trying to fundraiser or collect donations who had dared knock on his door but having a front row seat to a live performance was better than you could have ever imagined.

Joel watched your lips part and your brows twitch as they furrowed and your head tilt back slightly. He heard your breath hitch between his furious growling breaths, and his eyes slid down your parka-clad frame and he swore he saw your thighs clench.

His eyes went wide as he realized the effect he was having on you.

“You fuckin’ dirty little shit…”

The whimper he received in response made his cock twitch in his WalMart Levi’s. He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. He hadn’t had a woman look at him like that since he went to the strip club with his brother for his bachelor party, and he knew she was looking for a hefty tip. But you – the only thing he could think of is that you were trying to find a way to get out of paying for the damage your shovel caused. There was no waythat you were actually interested in him in that way. No. No woman had wanted to fuck him since before his daughter, Sarah, had been in junior high. He was a fat old asshole and you… you weren’t.

“Joel…”

Your soft voice pulled him back and the frown he carried all but left his face, being replaced with eyebrows to his hairline and his mouth open in confusion and shock.

“Joel, I… I’m sorry about your truck.”

You grabbed the zipper to your parka and pulled down, opening it to reveal your great aunt’s knitted sweater with a loon on it. Joel’s widened eyes swept over you and his brows furrowed.

“The hell you up to?”, he croaked, trying to sound intimidating.

“It’s warm in here”, you respond, tossing your parka on to, but missing completely, the stair banister.

His mind was racing. You actually seemed to be coming on to him as you stepped closer in your mismatched socks. You looked up at him through your lashes while your hands slowly slid up your legging-clad thighs and up to the hem of your sweater. He watched as you pulled it over your head slowly, getting it stuck for a moment, revealing a worn out white t-shirt with a faded image of a marshmallow peep and the slogan ‘Holla At My Peeps!’. He took another step back and you tossed your sweater at him, and he stumbled back, falling onto his recliner.

“Jesus, woman!”, he hollered, ripping your sweater off his head just in time to see you standing above him.

“You know how hot you are?”, you asked, leaning forward over him.

He froze. He must be dead. Or asleep. Or maybe he slipped when he stormed out the door to yell at you and hit his head. Or maybe he was drunk. Maybe he took a NyQuil tablet instead of the Omega 3-6-9 fish oil pills.

“The hell is wrong with you?”, he sputtered out, looking at you wide-eyed.

You didn’t answer. You only leaned forward, nudging your nose against his and letting out a breathy giggle. He tried to speak again, but his words got lost in the high pitch grunt he let out when your knee came up and nestled in between his thighs, pushing against the considerable bulge that had developed.

His hand involuntarily gripped your wrist that was supported on his arm rest, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“I know exactly what you need, Joel Miller.”, you cooed, tongue jutting out and licking your teeth, trying to sound seductive. “You need a good fuck.”

His mouth hung open in shock. You grinned wildly and kissed the tip of his nose before nipping at his bottom lip and tugging it between your teeth.

Joel let out a groan and closed his eyes, the hand on your wrist moving to your t-shirt’s hem and slipped underneath it. You nudged your knee against his crotch again and kissed him, tasting no-name waffles and burnt coffee.

The kiss seemed to break something in Joel. This wasn’t a dream, or an antihistamine induced hallucination or a concussion - this was real. You, his hot, young, stupid neighbour was crawling onto his lap and shoving your tongue down his throat.

He grunted lowly and pushed you back, looking up at you with dark eyes. You tried moving forward again, but his hand held you back.

A whine emanated from your throat, and he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you-“

You scoffed and he shushed you.

“Oh, hush and lemme finish, you loony shit!”, he huffed. “I was sayin’ that I'm not gonna fuck you in this chair; it barely holds my weight and if you’re gonna be bouncin’ on me, this fuckin’ thing’ll screw the pooch.”

You shrugged your shoulders, irritated. “Okay, fine. Then where?”

“My bed, you nimrod!”, he snapped with a scowl, then grinned. “Got a nice mattress with good lumbar support.”

*****

You had followed Joel to his room and were pleasantly… let down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the beige walls and the picture of a horse above his non-exciting bed were not what you had thought he would have. What surprised you was the essential oil diffuser plugged in on his bedside table, giving the air a fresh lavender smell.

The fact that the rest of his house looked like a rejected concept for an early nineties sitcom and his bedroom looked like a bed and breakfast that had no theme, for some reason, made you want him more. This man and his lack of consistency. You needed him in you now.

Grabbing his arm and turning him around, you pulled him into a desperate kiss; teeth and tongues, fighting for real estate in each other’s mouths.

“Get naked, sugar.”, he grunted as he broke the kiss with a lopsided grin. He unsnapped his shirt, revealing a grey, stained undershirt, its ribbing pulled tight and stretched over his belly while his mouth and surrounding patchy facial hair glistened with your saliva.

While he wasn’t being that polite, he wasn’t being mean. That was a problem. Even with how mundane he’d revealed himself to be, it wasn’t enough. The residual dampness that made your panties stick to your core was a result of him yelling at you out front, and that goodwill your pussy had shown was slowly drying up.

Joel’s hands began to make quick work of his belt and stretch denim jeans, but he noticed you not moving to do the same.

His hand flapped at you in an urging motion, “Make with the no clothes. Can’t fuck you with them on.”

His eyes narrowed as he noted your lack of movement, and he paused. You began to see signs that Joel was getting mad, and your mind flipped through every situation you’d witnessed him lose his shit in.  What was it that would set him off quick? You weren’t about to throw a block party in his room, nor were you a religious group knocking at his door early on a Saturday. Then it clicked.

A devious grin broke out slowly on your face as you sat on his Temperpedic mattress and crossed your arms.

“Make me.”

“You indignant little shit…”, he growled, clenching his fist.

A flutter in your lower belly. More.

“Come on. Make me.”

“You fuckin’ tease… Fuck you!” His eyes were filling with fire.

An almost painful need bloomed in your core. More!

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

He sputtered and guffawed, eyes wide in rage.

“You fuckin’ shit! Bangin’ up my truck and actin’ like a needy Jezabel just to fuckin’ tease me like this!”

You could have cum right there, between the iron grip on your wrist and his loud belittling.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted, and he snarled. He grabbed your hand and yanked you up off the bed. You truly thought his back was bad enough that the effort of getting you up alone would be too much, but he shoved you against his dresser, then slamming his weight into your back. You whined, feeling your pussy clenching on nothing.

“You’re such a shit!”, he grunted, grabbing your elasticized waistband, and yanking your leggings and panties down on one side while your hand went to the other; the two of you awkwardly working towards removing your barrier.

When they were low enough on your legs to step out of, you clumsily did so, then tried to turn around to help Joel. He wasn’t fast enough, swearing under his breath as your hands lifted his belly to access his strained button fly. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a dog on a window while a steak was being grilled just on the other side.

You pushed his jeans down around his hips and they pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off and bit down on the crux of your neck and shoulder as your hand cupped and felt up his hard cock.

Jesus. Oh fuck.

Joel was hung. Like unreasonably so. You’d had your fair share of men slamming their pork steeples into your wet cunt, but none of them could even hold a candle to the monstrosity that sat heavy and covered in satin in your hand. You planted your hand on his chest and pushed him back, needing to get a peek at what Joel was packing. You immediately looked down, seeing the Wile E. Coyote faux-satin boxers protruding out in an impressive, and frankly intimidating, bulge.

“Oh shit...”, you breathed out, contemplating on whether you truly needed to do any serious sitting for the next week, or if you could maybe just get away with laying down at work.

His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he gave you a dark smile, “Showed up to a gun fight with a knife, sugar?”

You didn’t have time to respond because Joel shoved his hand between your legs and harshly began rubbing your clit.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled back. Joel watched, an approving sneer on his face.

“’S fucked up … you like this?”

“uh…. Uh-huh…”

“You’re a lunatic…”

You smiled lazily. “You’re fingering a lunatic… w-what’s that say about you?”

He paused then huffed out, “That I’m fingering a lunatic, you moron.”

You let out a throaty laugh that bleeds into a moan as Joel shoves two thick fingers into your hole, slowly dragging them out before plunging them back in.

“You’re a sick little shit… you seducin’ and teasin’ an old man, an’gettin’ me all wound up… Neighbourhood headache… that’s you. Fuckin’ shit up and walkin’ away with a smile on her dumb face.”

“’M close… don’t…. don’t stop…”

His fingers kept the slow languid pace going as he leaned in and harshly whispered, “Unlike you, sugar, I don’t like to leave people disappointed.”

His eyes never left you, watching your every move. Every involuntary twitch and shudder, every flutter of your eyelids and breath leave your parted lips. He could feel it around his fingers and see it on your face that you were feeling everything intensely and now that he had you like this, he wasn’t going to let you go without making sure you weren’t going to pull this shit again.

Joel was many things, but a man who could let things go was not one of them. He was tired of hearing you cream and cry on whatever silicon thing you were shoving into yourself through your bedroom window as he lost his shit on someone; tired of seeing you make eyes at him while you sat in your front yard as he grumbled at a neighbour for the state of their lawn. He was still furious at you for once letting your hand - your soft, sweet, tender hand - linger on his when handing him his mail that was accidentally delivered to your home, forcing him to sit in his shitty recliner and try to finish with his calloused, rough, and hard hand. He never came.

You were going to pay for that. He’d promised himself that for almost five years and now here you were, on your way to being a muppet with how his hand played in your pussy. Joel’s time had come.

You came, moaning, on his hand as he watched, his fingers still moving in and out of you, and his thumb took up the task of tending to your twitching clit. Your face twisted and you cried out, trying to push his hand away.

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and a moan seeped out. As you rode the wave, he yanked his hand out and grabbed your arm, throwing you onto the bed.

“Goddammit, you’re such a pretty shit.”, he grumbled, reaching for your ankle, and tugging your ass to the edge of the bed. You tried sitting up on your elbows, but he shoved you back down with his body weight.

His weight. Good god, he felt heavier and better than you ever thought he could as he pressed you down into the mattress.

But he got up off you, trying to wrangle your ankles and pull your exposed pussy to just the right spot to save his back from being strained. You tried sitting up again, wanting to have some sort of control over the situation, but Joel growled and grabbed your hips, and, in an impressive feat, flipped you onto your front all while grumbling about what a pain in the ass you were.

“Can’t even fuckin’ be considerate enough to stay put…”

You heard him spit then grunt, figuring he was priming that fucking meat wagon between his legs, and you let out an impatient huff.

“Knock that shit off!”, he snapped, flicking you on your ass cheek. “You just came, nimrod. You can fuckin’ wait!”

“Yeah… but I wanna cum again!”, you whined out with a smile, trying to not laugh at how irritated he was with you.

“I bet you do… but you’re on my time, and I am a patient man, sugar.”, he crooned lowly, snaking his hand up your back and to your hip. You squirmed a bit, but his hold kept you planted in place, and his other hand held his cock as he nudged it against your opening.

The smile on your face dropped as his huge member pushed in; your mouth opened, and out came a gasp followed by a choked moan.

“That’s it… Jesus Murphy…  not even fuckin’ your throat and I got you to shut your mouth…”

Yes, you knew Joel was huge. But it was just an abstract concept up until that moment. Now that he was shoving his massive dick into you, you felt like the universe’s mysteries were now clearly laid out. You knew what religion was right, who shot JFK, how they made the moon landing look real…

Nothing in life would ever surprise you again because you were being split open by this grumpy, fat man. You were being ruined by Joel Miller.

He grunted as he pulled back and then slammed into you.

“Tight little snatch, sugar… takin’ me like a champ.”

You couldn’t respond. Your brain had melted and left your skull empty, and you were unable to do anything but breathe loudly and moan, “S’too big… too big…”

Joel snickered and grunted, snapping his hips and shoving himself deep. You wriggled and squirmed, simultaneously needing him stop and to fuck you harder. Your head began to feel faint, and your core squeezed him, forcing a groan out of him.

He began to snap his hips faster, panting and grunting like the fat kid in gym class being forced to run a mile. You whined and squirmed, trying to get your knees under your body to be able to push back against him, to get him deeper, but he grabbed your calf and bit your leg right above your sock with a growl then groaned, “Stay… stay put… don’t move… jus’lemme… lemme finish…”

You let out a yelp than melted into a moan, throwing yourself into another orgasm. Joel’s thrusts became hurried and more erratic. The high-pitched whine that ripped out of Joel sounded like a dog begging for table scraps as he shot his load into you.

He collapsed onto your back, both of you panting. After what felt like hours but in reality, was only about 30 seconds, Joel had gone quiet. You nudged him, hoping to god he didn’t die from a pussy-induced heart attack. He grunted and struggled to push himself up off you, then flopped on the bed next to you. You rolled over onto your back and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his brows furrowed; his wispy salt and pepper hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth. You smiled, feeling a fulfillment you hadn’t since you’d convinced your parents that it was your sister who broke the CD-ROM drive in the family computer even though it was really you. Cuddling into his, your fingers drew heart shapes in his sweat coated chest hair.

Now that he’d fucked you, you wanted to clear the air as it were, and make sure he wasn’t going to make you pay for any damage to his truck. “So…”

Joel grunted in response, one eye opening and looking at you.

“I was just wondering… what’s your licence plate mean?”

He sighed and closed his eye again. He said the meaning quietly and at first you weren’t sure you heard him right.

“What?”

His cheeks flushed a little harder and he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff.

“ShagMaster 9000.”

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @jennaispunk @tightjeansjavi @rubyfruitjungle @lilmizmoz @strang3lov3 @pedroshotwifey @harryleatherfit @bitchesuntitled

[eddieschains]

Dream Come True

Older!Eddie X Fem!Reader

credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the older eddie edit <3

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, age gap (reader is early 20s, Eddie is 50s), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation, face slapping, creampie, let me know if i missed anything!!

It was your parents 25th wedding anniversary. They liked to make a big deal out of it every 5 years, throwing a big party and inviting as many people as they could. You never understood why they couldn’t just go out to dinner alone to celebrate instead of dragging you along to hang out with their old friends. But he made it all worth it.

Eddie Munson. Your dads friend from high school. He was kind of old sure, but he was damn sexy. He had the softest looking long curly brown hair, peppered with just the right amount of grey. The perfect amount of scruff around his face, messy yet neat at the same time. And his arms and chest littered with tattoos.

He played in a metal band that your dad was a part of shortly in college, until he decided he’d rather marry your mom and start a family. Bleh. You had watched all the videos of their shows when he was younger, and while you should’ve been impressed by your dads skills as a musician, you could never take your eyes off of Eddie.

He was still in the band, constantly in LA recording or touring the world. He always made time to visit you and your parents when he was back in Hawkins though. You hadn’t seen him in about 5 years, the last time being your high school graduation, when he could barely keep his eyes off of you. You thought since you were freshly 18 he would finally take you someplace to fuck you raw, but that might’ve just been wishful thinking.

In reality, he didn’t pay much attention to you when he visited. Nothing more than the usual “how have you been” or “how’s school going?”. But, that wasn’t going to stop you from continuing to try and get his attention.

You opted for a short black dress, probably showing a little more cleavage than you usually would, some high heeled boots, and a simple silver necklace. You were in the kitchen of the beach house your parents rented, fixing yourself a drink while you waited for the guests so trickle in.

“Honey, can you greet people at the door and take their coats?” You hear your mom call from the other room. You roll your eyes before taking a sip of your wine and making your way to the door.

You spend the next 30 minutes welcoming all of your parents friends, frustratingly having to answer the same questions over and over and using your best fake laugh to laugh at all of their dad jokes. You were just about ready to leave and scream in the bathroom until you saw the black mustang pull up. Eddie.

You fix you hair and push your boobs up a little more before he makes his way to the door. “Sweetheart.” He bows his head, making his way into the house.

“Eddie.” You do the same. You ask to take his jacket and hang it with the rest. You decide your door duty is over once Eddie arrives, following him into the house. “This is nice. Didn’t know your old man bought a new place.” He says looking around, taking in all the little details.

“Oh it’s not ours, they just rented it for the party. Always need to make a big deal out of their love.” You scoff.

Eddie chuckles, “Marriage is a big deal. You’ll find that out soon enough.”

“No thanks. Marriage is just a big money grab. Why can’t I just spend the rest of my life with the person I love without the governments involvement? Plus it’s harder to get divorced than it is to get married.” You respond.

“You’re a smart girl. What are you studying again?” He asks, genuinely interested.

“Psychology. I graduate in a couple months.” You smile proudly.

“Ah you gonna tug at my brain tonight?” He laughs.

This is your chance to make a move, you think to yourself. “I could tug at something else if you’d like.” You whisper, a smirk on your face.

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat. “Uh i’m gonna go say hi to your parents.” He practically runs away. You would’ve been embarrassed by your boldness if you hadn’t noticed the way his cheeks turned red and his legs shook at your words.

You take your place back in the kitchen, avoiding conversation with the large group of people. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Eddie grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“Can’t stand being out there any longer without at least one beer.” You chuckle, mumbling in agreement. “When did your parents become so prissy?”

“Oh you mean they haven’t always been like this?” You laugh. “Dad got a promotion a couple years ago so I guess he feels the need to impress them.”

“You should’ve seen him in college, when he was still in the band. He was wild.” Eddie laughs, recalling the memories.

“As wild as you?” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side.

Eddie’s cheeks turn red, “I’m not wild.”

“You expect me to believe that the man who’s been rocking girls panties off for the last 30 years isn’t a wild one?” You step closer to him, hearing how his breathing changes. “I’ve seen what those hands can do.”

“Hey… stop.” You know he only says it because he should, not that he really wants you to.

You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling his ear down to your mouth. “But i’m not wearing any panties.”

Eddie lets a soft moan escape his mouth before running off. “I need to use the restroom.” You’re left in the kitchen, giggling and smirking to yourself, waiting a couple minutes before following him.

You put your head up to the bathroom door, listening to him heavy breathing and muttering curse words under his breath. You open the door, locking it behind you.

“What the fuck?!” He whisper yells. “What are you doing?”

“Oh I thought that was an invitation. You know, tell the girl you’re going to the bathroom, she follows…” You jump up on the sink, spreading your legs a little wider. “And then the guy fucks her brains out on the sink.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, trying his best not to look you in the eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But you want to, don’t you?” You jump off the sink, pulling him towards you. “Don’t think I forgot about the way you were looking at my tits at my graduation party. Or the way your eyes immediately went down to my thighs when I greeted you tonight. You’re a dirty old man, and I want to be your filthy… little… girl.” Your words send shivers down his spine.

“Fuck it.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours. His hands immediately reach for your hips, his fingers digging into them sure to leave marks tomorrow. You wrap your arms around the back of his head, pulling on his hair. He lets out a moan, and you take the opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth.

He taste just like how you imagined. A mix of tobacco and mint, followed with a slight flavor of the beer he just drank. He removes his mouth from yours, moving down your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just behind your ear. His hands travel down to your ass, squeezing and slapping as he continues his assault on your neck.

You twirl your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into you as you feel the heat between your legs growing more and more intense. He backs you up until your back hits the sink, a whimper leaving your mouth. He lifts the bottom of your dress, exposing your naked cunt.

“Fuck. You weren’t lying.” You chuckle as he continues kissing and sucking your skin, moving further down your body. “You did this because you knew I was coming, huh? Or are you just that much of a whore?”

You moan at his words, loving the way he says it. “Oh you like that? Like when I call you a fucking whore?” You mumble an mm-hmm right as he reaches where you needed him the most. “God you have such a pretty pussy, baby. Mind if I have a little taste?”

“Please.” You whimper, and he dives right in. His tongue drags from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, Eddie.” You moan out as his tongue flicks back and forth.

He licks you up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Attaching his mouth to your aching bud, and sucking it like it was his last meal. You couldn’t speak. It was like he took away your ability to form any kind of words. You’d never felt like this before, never gotten head like this before. He truly was a master, and not just when it came to music.

The filthy sounds of his tongue mixed with your own arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You feel him bring his fingers up to your entrance, playing with it while gathering your wetness. He looks up at you, his mouth still on your cunt, looking for permission to keep going. You nod, and without another word he sinks two fingers into you.

“Oh my- fuck!” You scream out before bringing a hand to your mouth, not wanting to bring attention to what was happening in here. You feel him smile against your pussy, pushing his fingers in and out of you.

His fingers were thick enough, you had no idea how you were supposed to fit, what you assumed, was his even thicker cock. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, not relenting his attack on your clit. He moans into your pussy, sending even more vibrations of pleasure through you. He seemed to really enjoy eating your pussy. Maybe just as much as you were.

He starts to move his fingers faster, flicking his tongue across your clit searching for your orgasm. “Shit, Eddie- Eddie i’m gonna- fuck fuck fuck.” You can’t even make out a cognitive sentence with the pleasure you were feeling.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me. Cum on my face.” That was all you needed to hear before your legs were shaking, closing in on his head as yours was thrown back, cursing his name under your breath.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, softly to help you ride out your high. Once your breathing starts to regulate again, he pulls out, placing soft kisses on your thighs before moving up to your mouth. “You okay?” He asks, pecking your lips.

You nod, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Placing your hand on the crotch of his jeans, you can feel just how much he enjoyed that. You palm at his rock hard cock through his pants, while he moans above you into the kiss.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, continuing to press into him.

“Not gonna last. I need to be inside of you.” He moans, shuffling his pants off as quickly as possible, and you realize that you didn’t have to assume his size anymore. He was big. The biggest you’ve ever seen. Thick too. If you had to picture the perfect dick, he had it.

“Jesus christ.” You mumble, earning a chuckle from him. He spits into his hand, stroking his cock to prepare himself.

“Can I see your tits?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls the straps of your dress off, nearly tearing them, and pushes the top of your dress down so that it’s sitting on your waist. “Oh my god, we’re you created by the gods or something?”

“I was created by your best friend.” You smirk, reminding him of who exactly he was about to fuck.

He groans, twisting his eyebrows up. “Don’t remind me.” He places his hands on your tits, rubbing and squeezing them in circles before catching one in his mouth.

You place your hand on the back of his head as he licks and sucks on your nipple, his hand playing with the other before switching places. Once he’s has enough, he steps back, grabbing onto his cock and sliding it up and down your folds.

“Ready?” He asks as you nod furiously. He slides just the tip in, testing the waters. You wince as he stretches you open. It hurts only for a moment, but the earlier tongue fucking definitely helped you get used to it quicker.

He pushes more of his length in, an inch at a time until his balls hit the back of your ass. “Shit you’re so fucking tight. Could bust right now.” He moans before pulling out slightly, and pushing back in.

You grab onto his biceps for leverage as he picks up the pace. You pull him closer to you, pushing his hair to one side while your lips find his neck. He groans at the feeling, grabbing the back of your neck as he rapidly begins thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my god- that’s it, fuck. Feels so good.” You moan in his ear. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, along with each of your moans. He moves his hands down to your hips, using them to fuck you back into him.

“Who would’ve thought my best friends daughter would be such a filthy fucking whore? Sucking my cock into her pussy like this? God you feel so fucking good on my cock like this.” His words continue to egg you on. You can’t say anything other curse words followed by moans of pleasure as he fucks into you.

You start to feel your high approaching again, embarrassingly quick and he takes notice. He pulls your head into his, pressing your forehead against his. “You gonna cum for me again? Gonna drench my fat cock with your cum? Hmm, baby?” You moan in response, but it’s not enough for him. “Use your words, tell me how good i’m making you feel right now.”

You still can’t find the words, and that’s when you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. “Say. It.” He growls, his thrusts speeding up as his thumb takes place on your clit. He rubs perfect circles on your clit while awaiting a response before slapping his palm across your cheek once again. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Say it.”

“Feels so good Eddie. Love the way your cock fills my pussy, gonna make me cum- fuck!” Your body goes limp as your second orgasm crashes over you. Eddie picks you up by your ass, moving your body against the bathroom door.

“That’s right, dirty slut loves the way I feel inside of her.” His body is keeping you up against the door as he continues to fuck into you with a hurried speed, chasing his own high. “How would she feel if I filled her up with my cum?”

All you can muster is a moan, receiving another slap across the face. “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes please Eddie, fill me up. Cum in me. I wanna feel you, please please please.” The overstimulation is almost getting to be too much as you feel a tear slide down your face.

Although, it doesn’t last long as he gives you a couple more hard thrusts before you feel his seed coating your walls. “Fuuuck.” He moans out, his head falling into your neck.

He stills for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his own orgasm before lifting his head to kiss you. He wipes your tears away before slowly sliding out of you and placing you back on your feet.

“You’re something else.” He laughs, pulling his pants back up.

“So are you.” You smile, fixing your dress. “Who knew old dudes like you could fuck so good?”

He shoots you a look, making you giggle. “Don’t tell your parents about this.”

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah let me just go down there and let them know their best friend just fucked the shit out of their daughter.” He laughs before exiting the bathroom and returning downstairs to the party.

You wait a couple minutes to follow him, not wanting to be suspected of anything. You make your way to your dad, hoping she didn’t notice that you and Eddie went missing.

“There you are honey. Oh what happened to your dress?” You look down, noticing the tear in your strap. You look over at Eddie, seeing the biggest smirk on his face as he sips his beer.

“Must’ve torn it this morning putting it on.” You respond, avoiding eye contact.

“Well you should go out a jacket on, make yourself look a little put together please.”

You sigh, walking away. “Yes daddy.”

You walk past Eddie as he grabs you arm, whispering in your ear. “Yes daddy.”

[astroboots]

Punch-Out Love

Artwork by @guruan

FIGHT NIGHT

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You're lucky enough to score ring-side seats at a boxing match on Friday night. Getting the best view in the house of boxing champion: Miguel O'Hara.

Word count: 1,500

Next Chapter

Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist 

You know fuck all about boxing.

About the only thing you know about the sport was from the glimpses you caught watching scratched up old recordings of Muhammed Ali fights on the boxy mini-tv of your old childhood friend's house.

It always seemed barbaric. The practice of watching two human beings beat the shit out of each other for spectator's entertainment. It seems like something that was better left in the Ancient Roman times. Have we all human beings as a society, really not come further some 2,000 years later?

Your bestie used to get mad at you for this. Constantly defending the sport from your criticism, because (according to him) it's not just about smashing each other's faces in. Supposedly, there's an art to the sport. Boxers are taught to respect their opponents and adhere to the principles of good sportsmanship. It takes great mental discipline, dedicated work and years of hard and punishing training to master boxing.

You never saw any of that in the matches he showed you. All you saw were two men needlessly being hurt, sustaining brain damage for rich people's enjoyment.

Then again, he was more than a little bit biased, considering it was his dream to go pro one day. Tall and gangly, with his scrawny antelope legs, thick-rimmed glasses and big-ass braces, he looked like he couldn't punch his way out of a paper bag, much less another person. You never understood how exactly he thought he was going to make it as a boxer.

But you never found it in you to burst his unrealistic bubble when he used to point at the screen excitedly, drawing your attention to Ali's footwork and the artistry in it. 

"It's like he's dancing," he used to say.

Except dancing is done with swelling music in the background. In dancing you often have a partner. It's an embrace. It's gentle and kind.

Boxing... was not that.

So you don't know how you managed to find yourself in the ringside seats of a local boxing match on a Friday evening, staring up at the boxing ring with the glaring ring lights shining into your eyes.

"Aren't these seats amazing?" Jess shouts excitedly over the familiar lyrics of ‘We Will Rock You' being belted out by Freddy Mercury on the loudspeaker.

You smile, and nod, because boxing-fan or not, she's right, these are some amazing seats. And considering you didn't have to pay a dime for them, personal aversions aside, you're never going to turn down free stuff.

Jess' husband tested positive for covid at the last minute, and you're the only one in your social circle that is anti-social and single enough to not have any plans on a Friday evening.

On the monitors above you, the menacing headshots of the two fighters swish into view.

"The first guy is an old reigning champ," she explains to you, as she leans in, shouting into your eardrums (and yet you can still barely make out what she's saying over the music). "The challenger is some new kid on the block. Has an amazing track record. Zero losses in the season. He's something else."

You look up at the gigantic screen, at the sharp cut cheeks, strong thick brows and the intense pitched brown eyes staring down at you.

Angry looking dude.

...Handsome too.

With a face like that, surely he could've gone into other careers. Calvin Klein model, movie star, or a news anchor. You wonder what makes a guy voluntarily have his face bashed in for money as a career.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a loud booming voice announces from the stage.

You jump in your seat from the suddenness, as you see a bald and overly formal dressed announcer in the middle of the ring. 

"Welcome to the electrifying boxing showdown of the century! Are you ready to witness some knockout action tonight?"

The crowd around you cheers with a pandemonium of shouting and whistling.

"Introducing our first fighter, a true hometown hero! With an impressive record of 20 wins, 15 by knockout, and only 2 losses, standing at 6'3 feet, and weighing in at 340 pounds of determination and strength, give it up for ‘the Knockout King’ Bobby Kane!"

You watch as the reigning champion walks down the tunnel to the midst of adoring cheers as he waves and gestures at the crowd like royalty.

Every inch the king that he is nicknamed, he jumps over the rope and stands tall and proud over the ring.

The man is huge, bulging with almost grotesque muscles. He's so large that you almost expect each of his steps to send a reverberation throughout the hall, as if this was Jurassic Park and he's a T-Rex.

"Now, entering the ring with the confidence of a warrior, fighting out of the red corner, with 15 wins, 10 by knockout, and no losses, standing at an astounding 6 feet 9 inches, and weighing in at 310 pounds of raw power, let's hear it for tonight's challenger, ‘Steel Jaw’ Miguel O'Hara!"

Wait what? You do a double take at the announcement. Six foot nine?!?! What kind of giant is that?

From the far corner of the hall, you see his silhouette emerge, and your eyes go wide at the sight of him. Tall doesn't even begin to describe him. 

There's a 200 year oak tree at Central Park, and with the shadow this man casts, you think their height must be nearly comparable. If you thought the Knockout King was tall, the "King" is practically tiny compared to this challenger.

You watch, as the man with cheeks so sharp they mind as well be blades (and god never has a nickname made more sense to you) as he strides towards the stage. He reaches the rope and barely even has to climb over it with how tall he is.

He's leaner than his predecessor. Every inch of him is cut muscles and tanned gorgeous skin as he stands in front of you. His presence is electric. The air crackles where he stands, towering over the stage.

You swear that his towering height blocks out the ring lights with it, casting the stage in the darkness of his tall shadow.

Somehow, he's even prettier in person compared to the still image of him blown up and plastered on the big screen. Soft brown curls and pouty lips. You don't understand in what world a man like that is a professional fighter.

From this distance, with the way that the light refracts from his irises, his eyes almost glow with a scarlet red that takes your breath away as you look up at him and meet his eyes.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was staring at you.

The bell rings out, but he's not looking away. The intensity you find there is enough to make you swallow your tongue. Your face prickles with heat and for several long moments you forget to breathe, until the air seems to thin around you and your vision starts to swim.

Then he turns to face his opponent.

You're not quite sure where to look. There's so much happening at once. For his size, Miguel O'Hara is surprisingly deft on his feet. His footwork is somehow both unpredictable yet intentional all at once.

The King throws a strong punch, as he lunges forward, after his tall opponent. But O'Hara dodges them seemingly without effort. It's followed by punches so quick, the movements blur together.

Strike after strike. The King is giving it his all. But none of it properly connects. With every failed hit, you can see him growing increasingly more frustrated.

Your heart is in your lungs, and despite how close you are to the stage, you almost want to get up from your seat for a closer look.

Safe as you are behind the ropes, adrenaline rushes through your veins with a fury. You can't recall the last time you felt this ecstatic about... well, anything.

With each punch O’Hara dodges, you feel yourself lurch back in your seat, trying to dodge the punch with him.

It's titillating.

Exciting.

O'Hara's movements are precise and honed with intention despite the ferocity in his movements. Each one is measured and intricate and if you didn't know any better you'd almost call it graceful.

You think back to those moments in your childhood friend's home, and his excited words buzz in your ears now. For the first time ever you finally understand what he had meant.

It is like a dance.

Before you, O’Hara's eyes cross over in your direction and for a split of a second, you swear your eyes connect again. His gaze holds you there, pinned to your seat, and excitement shoots through the entirety of your spine until you feel lightheaded from the attention.

Then he finally steps forward, no longer evading.

It's brutal and efficient.

An uppercut that connects cleanly to his opponent's jaw.

Spit and blood flies out from the man's mouth, the flabby flesh of his cheek vibrating from the impact as he lands on the floor with an ear-shattering thud.

Then the guy is out.

Barely even eight minutes in. 

There's a stunned and shocked silence. The crowd seems both enthralled and disappointed at how fast it all went. On the ring floor, you can practically see the circle of cartoon birds flying above the defeated King's head.

You may not know anything about boxing, but you know that this man is not getting up anytime soon, no matter how far the referee counts.

Tearing your eyes away from the motionless body splayed out on the ground elevated above you, you can see the victor towering menacingly over the body.

But Miguel O'Hara isn't even looking at his defeated opponent

No, his eyes are staring straight into the sea of awestruck spectators. Except he’s not looking at them.

He's looking at you.

~ Next.

Author's note: What's that you say? CiCi wtf are you doing starting another series when you already got one going on? ... Idek man. But I hope you guys enjoy it, cause I had a blast writing it, smut will ensue in later chapters I promise!

Dedications and Credits: Buckle up it's gonna be a big one!

Firstly to @guruan when I say she's my muse THIS IS WHAT I MEAN! Look at that beautiful artwork. I am drooling into my panties. I am crying between my legs. I am so damn horny! I cannot thank this amazingly talented genius enough. Please please give this wonderful brilliant human your love by following her, and drop by her KO-FI SHOP cause the art this woman bless us with is UN-fucking-REAL

Then to @djarinsbeskar who put this idea into my head. In my mind she is the OG Boxer AU champion and mastermind. If you are in the mood for more boxing content, she has a wonderful, devastatingly sexy series Boxer!Din AU that is just woof woof bark bark.

[ellastone-olsen]

I’d love to request a Lizzie x Reader smut fic where Reader is Lizzie’s stunt double - almost uncanny in how identical they are - and after a late night training session together, things really heat up between them.

Are we the same person ? | Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x f!stunt double!reader

Summary: Elizabeth has always liked her stunt double, but no one knows how much she likes you.

★Warnings: NSFW 18+, alcohol, thigh riding, fingering, oral, it looks like selfcest but it isn’t, fluff I love fluff

★Word count: 1.6k

★AN: another interesting request, how could I not write this?

Wanda 838's body flies sideways through the staircase railing and lands on the kitchen table, breaking the furniture into splinters. "Stop! Cut!” You hear the director's voice and try to get up from the floor. It definitely hurt, even with the safety lines. Elizabeth, dressed as the scarlet witch, immediately approaches you, offering a helping hand.

"Hey how are you? Are you seriously hurt?» You took her hand and stood up, groaning in displeasure. The thigh on which you landed was in pain, there was no doubt that there would soon be a bruise there, but that’s your job. "Thank you. This is probably the most traumatic scene in the entire film." You tried not to show how much the fall had unsettled you. Someone approached the two of you to shower Elizabeth with compliments about the work she had done, but the woman brushed the man aside like an annoying fly. “I’m busy right now, isn’t it obvious?” She didn't even notice who it was.

You were flattered by the attention of a star of her level to a simple stunt double like you. Elizabeth has said more than once how ideally suited you are for this position and even joked that you and she are more twins than her famous sisters. Perhaps it was so, the other actors on the set when they saw you for the first time were shocked by your similarity, right down to your facial features and hairstyle. “Admit it, have you been preparing for this job all your life?” They made fun of you.

You and Elizabeth crawled arm in arm to a small trailer park where each was signed with the names of the main cast. As an stunt double , you weren’t entitled to such luxury, so the woman brought you into her “home on wheels” and closed the front door with her foot. “You really shouldn’t have done that, Lizzie. Besides, you need to change your own clothes, you’re still the scarlet witch.” You joked with her in a warm, friendly manner. You spent a lot of time training together and managed to become friends. You were glad to have the honor of not being a stranger to her, but you always wanted more.

“No, you do such a big work and I want to take care of you for once before you sneak home as soon as the cameras turn off.” Your heart swelled at her words. Lately, your relationship has become much closer, which did not go unnoticed by your colleagues on the set and the paparazzi. “Okay, fine. But you still need to go and get rid of this entourage, no matter how much I love Wanda, but give me Lizzie back.” The woman sighed and left the trailer, promising that she would return soon, leaving you alone. A hot bath or shower (depending on what is in this box) would definitely be welcome right now.

“No, look, I do this part, and then you replace me.” You were sitting in the private small gym in Elizabeth's house and rehearsing for tomorrow's big scene. As soon as you entered the house, the older woman immediately offered you something to drink and took out a bottle of pomegranate wine. Now each of you has drunk a glass and your brain has begun to get confused in this whole huge scenario and the replacement of you with her and back. “Get up, come here.” The woman rose to her feet to rehearse again. You walked up to her and she wrapped your body in her arms, guiding you.

“I've practiced this scene alone too many times, look if you do it like this...” She took your hands in hers and made the motion the way Wanda would cast a spell. She pressed herself dangerously close to you and you turned your head, coming face to face with Elizabeth. You were frozen in that position and your wine-clouded brain was screaming for a kiss with the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, who was holding you in her arms. Your green eyes looked into her equally green ones and it seemed like little sparks were running around.

Elizabeth has made hints about her sexuality more than once in interviews, and when she realized that she was attracted to her double, it was not a surprise to her. The only thing that confused her (but only at first) was your too strong resemblance. Later, the thought of sleeping with “herself” began to seem too attractive to her. She would even say that this became her kink. And now, when you were dressed the same, with the same hair, from afar it was impossible to tell who was who. This turned her on even more, but the woman did not have the courage to admit it.

“Lizzie...” your whisper broke the ringing silence and the woman returned from her thoughts. She tried to back away, but you had enough impudence for both of you. You took her hands in yours and closed the distance again. "What do you want?" Her gaze running over your face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Your lips almost touched hers and you asked the last question in a whisper. "Can i kiss you?" A hum of agreement was all she could muster and you placed a quick kiss on her lips. And then another and another. The pace became faster and hungrier and you began to kneel down along her body. Hands lifted her black sports T-shirt so that lips left kisses on her toned stomach. The woman's hands slid into your hair and you looked up at her with puppy dog ​​eyes.

As you pulled her sweatpants off, your mouth kissed every exposed piece of skin: her hip bone, her upper thighs. When the pants and underwear slid down to reveal her center, you noticed how a string of sticky moisture stretched from her dripping pussy to her panties. “So wet.” Elizabeth stepped out of her unnecessary clothing and you pulled her down so she could sit on your lap, straddling you.

“Y/N...” She squirmed on top of you and took off her shirt, revealing her full breasts. Your lips wrapped around the nipple and the women let out a quiet moan, like a sob. Lizzie took your hand and lowered it to her crotch, wanting the long-awaited relief. “Now you see me without clothes, do we still look alike?” She needs to know this. Two fingers pushed inside, stretching the tight warm walls and you answered. "Absolutely identical." She began to ride your fingers, bouncing and squirming like a snake. She grabbed your shoulders for balance and moaned into the crook of your neck. Your other hand stroked her back and you whispered to her what a good girl she is, how well she doing for you. And when your fingers curled, pressing against the sensitive spot inside, she came, moaning into your mouth as she kissed you.

It was hard for you to sit on the hard floor of the gym and you leaned back to lie down and wrapped your arms around Elizabeth to prevent her from falling. The woman lay on top of you and sprinkled small kisses on your face, neck and lips, whispering quiet “Thank you.” Again and again. When the older woman's breathing returned to normal, she attacked your neck, biting lightly, making you squirm in place.

“I need to make sure your words are true.” That's all she said before instantly undressing you and pressing her lips to your bare chest with already hard nipples. You didn't lie. "You look as precise as I showed, although it wasn't difficult." She teased. Women’s teeth left bites on the surface of your stomach and thighs, what difference there will still not be visible, you thought. Let her to do what he wants, you told yourself, but all that came out was whining. “Oh please, I need you so much.”

And she gave you what you asked for, reaching your dripping center, she licked and sucked it clean so she could immediately push three fingers and pound into you at a fast pace. “So beautiful...” Lizzie whispered and placed a hand on your stomach to hold you in place. “Oh my God, oh my God!” You screamed into the empty gym as you came all over her fingers and tugged at her hair, pushing her head closer. "Yes! Fuck!” You fidgeted all over her face, unable to control yourself, you've been dreaming about this moment for too long.

When it was all over, the woman came up to you to give you one last kiss and stood up, picking up the clothes scattered on the floor. You looked at her in confusion, not understanding what it meant. It's good that she answered your silent question. “Are you just going to lie on the floor or are you going to come upstairs with me and take a shower before bed?” Sleeping in the same bed with her? Hugging? Oh, of course, this prospect immediately brought you to your feet.

“If we arrive together tomorrow, the paparazzi will again shout about our non-existent romance.” You said this with deliberate indifference, as if you really didn’t care what happened to you next. But Lizzie wrapped her arms around your shoulders to ask another question. “Who said that this is a non-existent romance? Hmmm” Your eyes widened and you didn’t know what to answer, the gears in your head were spinning intensely, processing what was said.

"Nobody." You answered. "Nobody said that."

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 40

part 1 | part 39 | ao3

They're lying on their backs, Steve's head on Eddie's shoulder, Eddie running absent-minded fingers through Steve's hair. Led Zeppelin plays on low from the radio beside them, and the conversation ebbs and flows in sleepy bursts of disjointed thought. Talking just to talk. Because they like it; because they can.

"...Did you see Wheeler almost eat shit in the paint aisle this morning?"

"We should paint some stars on my ceiling. Make 'em glow in the dark..."

"God, what I would not give for more pizza."

"Who even eats cold pizza?"

Eddie shifts beneath him after a while, sitting up to bounce his legs and get the blood flowing again. With his weight leaned back on his hands, Steve can't help but notice the long line of his torso. Everything on display through the thin undershirt: the smattering of dark ink, the outline of his ribs, the cut of his slim waist. Steve wants to touch him.

"You know," Eddie says, surveying the empty room, the vinyl glinting in the lamp light, "it's really not half bad for a bunch of kids who thought they were gonna be hanging ornaments all day." He knocks his knee against Steve's leg. "I'd say you're well on your way to making this mobile house a mobile home."

Steve snorts at that, and Eddie pinches playfully at his side until the snort turns into a really undignified laugh and Steve rolls in on himself, curling toward Eddie, begging for mercy.

"You want to tell me what brought all this on?" Eddie asks. His voice is quiet and welcoming, eyes sparkling with some gentle offer of reprieve. The first rest stop sign after a hundred mile stretch of empty road.

Steve's mouth works; opens and closes and opens again, like it'll prompt his voice to sound or his brain to figure out the words. He still doesn't know how to explain — the fear, the paranoia, the way this place was starting to cling to him like black mold. "Just..." he shrugs. "Needed it, I guess."

Eddie gives him a long look. Unwavering and piercing; there's more pus in the wound that he's trying to lance, but he doesn't seem interested in drawing blood tonight.

He releases Steve from his gaze and goes back to his casual stretching — rolling his neck, popping his shoulders, shaking out his legs, his ankles, his feet — and then he gasps "Steve!" in a delighted tone that Steve does not care for at all. Usually means he’s about to get teased within an inch of his life.

"Hmm?" Steve lifts his head to look.

Eddie’s wiggling his right foot, drawing attention to the outer edge of his borrowed sock. "Is that a hole I see?"

Steve follows his line of sight, and sure enough, there's the smallest little tear by Eddie's pinky toe. “Oh, fuck off,” Steve rolls his eyes, “you can barely even see that.”

Eddie spreads his toes out wide, making the hole more obvious. "My, my, my,” he tuts, shaking his head with a big, disappointed sigh.

"You're such an asshole,” Steve mutters. Eddie's beaming; Steve flips him off.

"Well congrats, baby boy,” he drawls like a fucking pest, “now you're officially trailer trash."

"Hey!" Steve’s not sure if he likes that. Makes him blush to his ears; makes something sour roll in his gut.

Unfortunately it also kind of makes his dick twitch.

"Oh?" Eddie leers. His eyes dart to Steve's crotch, and then he shifts so he's hovering over Steve with Steve flat on his back, face on fire, pulse kicking hard. A vein throbs in his inner thigh. "Don't worry, Stevie." Eddie bends to nip at his jaw. "I meant it as a compliment."

"How is that a compliment?" Steve wants to sound annoyed. Is annoyed. But Eddie's skimming a light hand up his side, barest pressure that leaves a trail of tingling warmth in its wake, so the words come out more breathy than he intends.

"Because," Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his smile pressed against his skin. Eddie kisses up his jawline until he reaches his ear; mouths at the lobe and sucks it between his teeth, a sharp bite that makes Steve hiss. "All my favorite things are."

Steve bucks under him. "Trash?" he asks, breath catching.

Eddie's tongue traces his ear. "Mhmm."

His hand wanders to the hem of Steve's shirt, worming his fingers underneath, tickling the trail of hair below Steve’s belly button as he explains that all his favorite things are second-hand. Recycled and discarded items he’s restored with loving care.

Steve’s breath goes harsh and ragged, and he tries not to think about how that might apply to him.

Discarded.

Restored.

Favorite.

Maybe even—

He can’t let himself think the word.

—

part 41!

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[hobvitr]

Can we get some Pavitr prabhakar x fem reader where we play with his hair, thanks u in advance :3

pavitr prabhakar x reader

fem!reader

genre/warnings: fluff, established relationship, cuddling, unrevised writing

note: thank you for requesting this! it was so fun and cute to write!! isn't he just so dreamy? he occupied 98% of my brain. recommend song: glue song - beabadoobee

sinopses: your boyfriend is so pretty that you can't help but play with his fluffy hair and cuddle.

saturday is the best day of the week, you and pavitr have more time to spend together and hang out in each other's house. and it's exactly what you're doing now, pavitr asked you to come in and who are you to deny your boyfriend?

you were chilling, half laying on his bed while he was telling you something about him and hobie partnering up on a mission and telling the most shocking details as it was the most normal thing in anyone's life.

"...then hobie told me he was going to take care of the citizens while i was fighting the big guy! i was winning, of course but it was so intense!"

pavitr kept talking about the mission, but your mind was at a different place. the sound of his voice and laugh at times making you feel head over heels for the boy in front of you. you noticed every detail of his upper body (with special attention to his hands, because he loves gesturing while talking), discovering spots at his neck you felt the need to point out and even give a kiss, the thought of it making you blush slightly, catching your boyfriend's attention.

"...and... babe, are you listening?" he wave his hand playfully in front of your face, making you chuckle at being catch staring. "sorry, got a little distracted..." you travel with your right hand to caress a lock of his hair that was too close to his eye. "can... can you turn so i can play with your hair?"

you asked softly, eyes looking through his with a soft gaze. he nodded while smiling. "of course ma'am" he shifted slightly, until he stopped in his tracks. "actually, what about i lay against you so i can still take a look at you while you get what you want, hm?" you giggled at his idea, nodding almost instantly.

he pressed his back at your middle, getting comfortable between your legs and laid his head at your shoulder. "much better." he said sighing happily while taking a look at you from the new angle. you finally got your hands on his fluffy hair, intertwining your fingers between the strands, taking another satisfied sigh from him.

"you're too handsome for your own good" you mumble to him, eyes only leaving the view of his face to take a look at his perfect hair. you hear a laugh bursting out of him, making you smile. "i must be. you deserve someone as beautiful as you" he's now grinning at you, making you roll your eyes. "I'm being serious, you're the most pretty, cute, gorgeous, beautiful girl I've ever seen and I'm so lucky to have you." his soothing voice go straight to your racing heart and you whisper a small 'thank you'.

you two have this moment, sharing lovesick stares and smiles to each other. one of your hands leave his hair to point out the new spot you found. "you have a signal here" your finger pressed ever so softly above his skin, making him shiver under your touch. he closed his eyes briefly, only opening it when his body was now facing you. each of his hands at a side of your waist, making you take his face between your hands.

"i wanna find some of yours too" he said, clearly enjoying the situation. you giggle shyly at his initiative, but welcomed him to do what he wanted. and surely he started to kiss every little mark he found on you face and neck, even your hands, making you chuckle at every contact he made and you could feel his smile against your skin.

"that's unfair, i wanted to do that to you first!" you tried to reverse the situation but you couldn't help it. "next time you need to be faster than me" pavitr said chuckling.

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Nobody Needs to Know Pt. 2

Pairing: EddiexFemReader

Summary: After the miscommunication between you and Eddie, you've been trying to talk to him but have been thwarted at every turn. You show up at his trailer to sort things out and...😉

18+ Only

Part 1

You had tried to talk to Eddie multiple times about what happened, but he had been avoiding you all week. You waited at his locker the day after the incident but he quickly turned and walked away the moment he saw you coming. You tried to approach the Hellfire table at lunch but were blocked by his cronies, Gareth and Jeff, who let you know that you weren’t welcome. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. The thing with Eddie was supposed to be simple, hot sex in secret, nobody knowing, only making it that much hotter. You had plans. Eddie Munson didn’t fit into those plans. He was the complete opposite of everything you were, everything you saw in your life, but your heart didn’t seem to care. At some point in all this clandestine meeting, you’d developed feelings for him and you hated it.

You hated it because you couldn’t think about anything else. You sat in class, completely missing everything the teacher was saying, because you were staring at the back of Eddie’s head, the way the light from the window caught those dark waves and made them shimmer as they moved constantly from all of his fidgeting. You watched his leg bounce up and down as if revving up for the moment the bell rang so he could hightail it out of there. Your body heated when he would inevitably spread his legs wide, rolling his neck, his body incapable of sitting still for too long. You watched him bring the pencil to his mouth, chewing on the wood. You pressed your lips together to fight a smile when his head would start bopping to the music only he could hear in his head and then came the pencils, drumming out a silent beat in the air. 

You tried to tell yourself this was for the best. You were heading off to college in just a few short months. What was the point in getting tangled up in a relationship right now? Especially a relationship that had zero chance of going anywhere. Eddie was going to remain in Hawkins. You knew this because somewhere along the lines it had stopped being just sex, and you’d started having conversations, lying next to him on the blanket in the woods, getting high, sharing your life stories, your plans. He was getting any job he could so he could save up enough money for his band to make their way to L.A. and try to make it big. He wasn’t going to follow you to college. 

But no matter what you told yourself, here you were, in Forest Hills trailer park, in front of the small, dingy place the long-haired metalhead called home. You had simply gone for a walk, hoping to clear your head, to stop obsessing about him, but your feet had somehow led you here, as if your body was accepting something your brain didn’t want to. 

“Fuck…” you muttered to yourself, pacing back and forth, taking long, slow breaths as you tried to steady yourself. You knew Eddie lived with his uncle. Was he here right now? You didn’t really want a show while you possibly humiliated yourself. Stopping, you pressed your fingers against your forehead, wondering what in the hell you were doing. “This is so stupid.” 

You turned, intending to walk away, nobody the wiser that you’d been hanging outside of Eddie’s place but fate had other plans. The door of the trailer opened and you spun back to see a figure framed by light in the doorway. There was no mistaking who it was, not with that mane of hair. Groaning, you wondered if you could just run. Could he even see you in the dark?

“Henderson?” he asked in disbelief.

Well, shit. There would be no pretending you hadn’t walked all the way to Eddie’s trailer now. You took a few steps forward, not approaching him, but not wanting to look like a freak who stalked his house and then ran when he noticed. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Eddie pressed when you still hadn’t said anything. 

“I…well…uh…I was…son of a bitch!” You spun in a circle, huffing loudly, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. He was staring at you, those brown eyes wide, one eyebrow cocked slightly up as he took in what had to be you looking insane. “You know what? Just forget it. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. I am just going to go. Forget you ever saw me.”

Just as fast as you turned, fingers wrapped around your wrist in an iron grip, holding you in place. You looked back to find Eddie looking at you, that wary look replaced with…what was that? He almost looked hopeful, but that couldn’t be. He hated the very sight of you these days. You were just seeing what you wanted to see. 

“You walked all the way to my trailer, pacing in front of it in the dark, and you expect me to forget it happened?” Eddie demanded, his voice hard and angry but there was a subtle quaking underneath each word that made you think he might not be as mad as he was letting on. “You don’t get to act like a creeper and then tell me to pretend I didn’t see it. This isn’t where you belong, princess. Don’t you know you walked to the loser side of town? What the hell did you come all the way out here for?”

“You know what? You’re an asshole,” you huffed, yanking your arm back from him. 

“I’m the asshole?” he scoffed, fingers pressing into his Metallica shirt as he laughed. “That’s rich. You’re the one who thinks you’re too fucking good to be seen with me. Can’t have Hawkins High’s little princess seen with the lowlife trailer trash freak, now can we? That might tarnish your perfect little reputation. You wouldn’t want people to know how low you really sunk, letting me fuck you in janitor’s closets, the drama classroom, the back of my van, the boys bathroom…what would happen if all your friends knew just how dirty you really are?”

“You’re a dick!” you shrieked, shoving him in the chest with your hands. “You stood there, asking me out, but you don’t actually want to date me. All you really want is the clout of everyone knowing you got to fuck me, someone you think is some kind of high school princess! You think the whole school will suddenly look at you differently because you screwed the good girl with the straight A’s? The girl who was homecoming queen? I’m guessing I’m not the first good girl or popular girl you’ve taken in the back of your van. Is this some kind of conquest for you like your stupid little game you play?”

“No fucking way! You do not get to turn this around on me! I’m not the one who’s playing games, sweetheart,” he yelled back, his arms flailing wildly around him. “For your information, I don’t just go around fucking any girl and it wasn’t a damn conquest for me! You’re the one who thought it would be fun to roll in the mud for a while. You’re the one who likes the danger of hooking up with the town freak, but it’s only fun as long as nobody knows!”

“I never said that!” you argued. “I was not the one who said we could keep it a secret. You said that! That first night we hooked up, after Harrington’s party, you said nobody needs to know. This can be our dirty little secret. It’s more fun that way. Or don’t you remember because you were fucking high and wasted?”

“So were you! That’s what started the whole fucking thing. You came over to me to buy weed! You’re the one who initiated this fucked up agreement!”

“No, no, no! I just wanted to buy it. You’re the one who suggested we smoke together in the back of your van. You started this shit!”

“Of course. What? I tricked you into spreading your legs like a good little whore for me that night? The way I remember it, you were plenty eager, begging for me to fuck you.”

You lunged for him, going to push him again, but he grabbed onto both of your wrists, yanking you toward him, pinning you against his chest. Your bodies locked together; heavy, hot breaths mingling as you both heaved from anger; eyes locked on one another, glaring, furious. Your brain was muddled, synapses malfunctioning, firing in all the wrong ways. Your feet should be moving away. You should push him back and walk away from this. This was all wrong but your body wouldn’t move. 

“I hate you…” you whispered, but there was no venom in your voice. 

“Yeah, I know,” he breathed, his voice a low rumble, and then his lips were on yours, hard, unyielding, tongue demanding entry as it pressed into your mouth, teeth scraping your bottom lip roughly. 

Eddie’s hands kept you in that vice grip, your bodies melded together. You could feel his erection pressing against your lower belly and a moan you couldn’t control rose from within you at the reminder of how good that cock felt inside you. It had only been a week but your body craved it like a goddamn drug. He was just that damn good, but you’d never give him the satisfaction of telling him that. 

“No…no…stop…” you gasped against his mouth, coming to your senses, fighting his hold. The minute you gave him resistance, his fingers slackened. Eddie liked to be in charge but he never did anything you didn’t want. 

“What?” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “Isn’t this what you want? Sex with me in the dark, where no one can see?”

“No, I…this isn’t what I want!”

“Then what do you want, princess, because you’re giving me serious whiplash here. You don’t want to go out with me but you don’t want to do it in secret so what exactly are you here for?”

“I…Jesus, you make this so hard.”

“No, you made this hard.” He gestured down his crotch. “And now you’re backpedaling. So, what do you want?”

“I want you.”

“I’m trying to give that to you,” Eddie argued, holding his hands out in front of him. “My uncle’s not home. We can do it in a real bed this time. I’ve even got handcuffs and nobody would know. This trailer park is real good at ignoring any odd sounds they hear. It’s a fairly regular occurrence. Someone could be getting murdered and they’d all stay locked up in their shitty cells, turn up their tv, and pretend they don’t hear it. So…if you want me, then…” His hands gripped your hips, pulling you into him, lips pressing just below your ear.

“Eddie, stop,” you breathed, fighting the urge to just give in to him, to follow him into that trailer, avoid this conversation, and do what the two of you did best. 

“Fuck, seriously…” he sighed, releasing you and backing away, hands raised in the air. “Then go home. Go back to your nice little suburban oasis with all your friends and your mommy and be the person you like to pretend you are.”

“Could you stop being an asshole for like five seconds?” you pleaded. “I’m trying to tell you something and you’re making me rethink it every single time you open your damn mouth.”

“Well, by all means princess, say what you need to say. I’m all ears.”

“I like you, Eddie,” you spat out, just letting it all go before you thought too hard about it and chickened out. “I didn’t want to. I wanted this to just be sex but it’s not. Somewhere along the line, I started to really like you. I don’t think I’m better than you. I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks. And maybe we are the most horrible match ever, I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem to matter because I still want to be with you. I want to go out with you…like somewhere that’s not your van or a closet. I want to see a movie or get ice cream or go to the arcade. I want to do more than just…whatever the hell this is. And if you would have given me a goddamn minute to process what you’d said in that closet, then you’d know that. I didn’t hesitate because I didn’t want to. I hesitated because you surprised me. I’m not exactly what I would think you’d want. I’m not metal. I’m not a bad girl…”

“Oh, you’re a bad girl…”

“Shut up,” you sighed. “Are you hearing anything I’m saying?”

“I hear you,” Eddie nodded, his expression turning serious. He glanced down, twisting his ring slowly on his finger. “Listen, just because I’m into shit doesn’t mean you have to be for me to like you. That night at the party, I couldn’t believe my fucking luck. I have been pining after you for months, from the first time I came to your house. You remember that day?” You nodded. “I stopped over to give Dustin his Hellfire shirt and you answered the door in those itty bitty shorts and that Bowie shirt that you’d cut off so that little sliver of stomach was showing and I was a fucking goner. Why the hell do you think I kept coming around your place?”

“I thought you were just there to see my brother…”

“Man, I love that little shrimp but you really think I wanted to spend hours hanging out with a freshman all the time?” Eddie laughed. “No, I kept trying to work up the courage to say something to you but I couldn’t. I figured you’d laugh in my face. You were like…this unreachable thing. You were beautiful, smart…you were fucking perfect and I’m me. Why the hell would you ever look twice at me?”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie, I looked more than twice,” you groaned. “I opened that door and thought the metal gods had delivered a gift to me on my doorstep. That hair, those eyes, that goddamn dimple you get when you smile…the way that chain hangs on your jeans…” You paused, laughing. “I thought you’d never be interested in me. I figured you went for metal chicks in leather and denim with dark make-up and badass attitudes. I was none of those things.”

“You’re everything,” he said softly and you inhaled sharply, his words a shock to your system. “When we hooked up, I thought that would be it. When it kept happening, I just figured I’d take what I could get.” Eddie shrugged, that soft smile playing on his lips, causing that sweet dimple, that you just wanted to dive into, appear. “I kept telling myself that was all it was, but then you didn’t just take off after sex. We’d lay together and talk and I was getting to know you, the real you, the one you keep hidden from everyone to protect that perfect image everyone wants to see, and I knew it was more. I knew it was going to hurt like hell when you decided you were done with me but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t just walk away.”

“Me too,” you replied, stepping into him, taking his hands in yours. “So, Eddie Munson, will you go on a date with me? A real date where everyone can see us?”

“You mean, where everyone can see you’re mine,” he teased, eyes flashing mischievously before his head dipped down, tongue tracing the shell of your ear before pulling the lobe between his lips. “Is that what this is? Are you mine completely now, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasped, a familiar ache developing in your center. “I’m all yours.”

In one swift motion, Eddie heaved you over his shoulder, you crying out in surprise. He made his way toward the trailer, pushing the door open and then kicking it shut behind him. You tried to glance around this space where Eddie lived but he took you right into his bedroom, throwing you down on the bed. 

“Fuck, I have been dying for this all damn week,” he rumbled, calloused fingers on your thighs, making their way up the little skirt you were wearing. “Watching you cross those legs in class, bending over to get your lunch out of your backpack, stretching your arms so your shirt rode up up just enough, giving me a view of all this beautiful skin…I know you were doing it on purpose, weren’t you?”

“No…” you gasped as those fingers began playing along the edge of your panties, his finger dipping just under but not touching you. 

“Oh, I know you were,” Eddie hummed, his thumb sliding through your slick, brushing over your clit, causing your hips to buck up toward him, your body needing his touch. “Mmm…you’re such a naughty girl, princess. I think you might need to be punished for teasing me like that. What do you think?”

His hands left and you whimpered, opening your eyes to see why and they widened at the sight of him with a devilish grin on his face, handcuffs dangling off his finger. A shiver of nerves and excitement raced across your skin as you imagined what he might do with those. 

“Now, be a good girl for me and put those arms up above your head,” he ordered and you didn’t even consider disobeying, your pussy throbbing with anticipation. You raised your arms up and Eddie clicked first one and then the other cuff over your wrists, keeping your hands locked together. His head dipped down, nose running over your cheek, hand sliding down the front of your body and under your skirt, cupping your pussy in his palm. You tried to grind against him and he chuckled. “Oh my, so needy. Not so fast, sweetheart. You still need to take your punishment like a good girl before I give you exactly what you want.”

“Anything…fuck…” you begged, your body wound so tight you thought you would shatter with the force of it. 

Eddie laid down on the bed next to you, grabbing onto your hips, propping your panty covered center right over his face with your back to him. You gasped, relief flooding through you that you were about to get the release your body needed. But then he reached around you, undoing his pants and pushing them just past his hips, his cock springing free, a bead of wetness shining along the top. 

“Show me how sorry you are, sweetheart. Show me how much you want it and then you’ll get what you need,” he stated and then his hand came down to crack against the skin of your ass. You cried out, back arching. “Come on, be my good girl and show me how much you love that cock.”

Eddie’s hand slid along your spine, pressing you forward, his touch firm but also gentle enough that you could resist if you wanted but you didn’t want. You wanted to give this man the best blowjob he’d ever had. You wanted to make him come completely undone.

Eagerly, you followed his lead, tilting your body forward, pressing your cuffed wrists against the mattress to prop yourself up. You didn’t require your hands as little Eddie was standing at full attention, just waiting for your eager mouth. Darting your tongue out, you flicked the top, capturing the wetness that had already collected there, earning a pleased hiss from Eddie as his hands kneaded the flesh of your ass. 

You ran your tongue along his length, up and down the sides and the top, wishing you had your hands free so you really get him going by playing with his balls, something you’d been pleased to find would have him writhing helplessly but you would have to make do because he clearly wasn’t releasing you anytime soon. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you flicked your tongue back and forth over the slit again, pleased when he bucked his hips toward you, trying to get you to take him deeper.

“Are you still teasing?” Eddie hissed, his hand coming across your ass hard again. “That’s not being a very good girl, sweetheart. I thought you wanted me to do this.”

His warm tongue flattened against your panties, running over your slit, causing you to squeal and press yourself back against him. But his hands gripped your ass, keeping you back, keeping you from getting what your pussy was pulsing for. 

“Damn, your panties are already soaked, darling,” he commented and you could hear the satisfied smirk even without seeing his face. He nuzzled his nose over your clit before pressing you forward again, leaving you throbbing…aching…so fucking needy that you would agree to anything for him to finally give you what you needed. “Yeah, I know exactly what you want. Give me what I want and I will be more than happy to return the favor.”

You wrapped your lips around his cock once again, this time taking him all the way in, sinking further until he was scratching the back of your throat. Eddie growled, fingertips digging into your ass so deeply, there were sure to be marks and that excited you. You never knew you wanted someone to mark you as theirs until Eddie. But you were his completely. No one else had ever made you feel like he did, desired, sexy, smart, worthy. Every other guy was just worried about their own needs. Eddie always made sure you had your needs met. 

“That’s a good girl. Suck that cock down,” he groaned. 

You worked him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, releasing him to lick the deep red flesh, flicking the tip, until he was a mess of sounds behind you, his hips working to match the rhythm of your mouth. Your pussy was soaked, so turned on by the reaction you could get from him with just your mouth. 

“I think you deserve a gift,” he grunted, pushing your panties to the side, his face diving in between your legs. You cried out in shock and deep relief as he wiggled his face from side to side, his lips over your clit, his nose pressing against your entrance and his cock slid from your mouth. “Don’t stop, sweetheart or I’m going to have to stop too.”

You latched your mouth around his cock again, struggling to focus, trying to work him furiously as he sucked your clit between his lips. Your thighs clenched around his head and Eddie moaned, gripping them with his hands, his tongue circling and then flicking, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. 

“Fuck yes, smother me with that pussy, princess,” he commanded. 

You were more than happy to oblige, rocking your hips, rolling yourself over him, his lips, his nose hitting all the right damn places. Your mouth slacked on him and he slapped your ass again, a reminder that was a two way deal. You continued to work him, sucking harder, the sounds of your simultaneous moans filling the space around you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you moaned, gasping before wrapping your lips around him again. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Come with me. I’m so close, baby,” he growled, thumb working over your clit as his tongue dove into you, exploring. 

You were so damn close. You whimpered around his cock as your hips moved over his face, taking exactly what you needed. Eddie grunted, your only warning before his release flooded your mouth. You kept your lips wrapped tightly even as your own orgasm flooded over you, your moans smothered around his length, your body shaking, thighs clamped around his head. Eddie’s tongue never stopped, working you through each wave of pleasure as you rode it out. You swallowed, head collapsing against his thigh. 

“Fuck…” you whimpered, muscles still quaking from the intense pleasure you’d just experienced. 

“You read my mind.”

Eddie sat up, gripping your hips and spinning you over onto your back. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand, rolling it over himself, already hard and ready to go again. Jesus, this man and his stamina. It was unbelievable how quickly he was ready to go. His hand came down, wrapping around your wrists and holding them over your head as his other hand guided his cock to your entrance. 

“Who does this pussy belong to?” he growled, barely entering you, not enough and so much all at once. 

“You,” you cried, hips rolling toward him. 

“That’s right. This pussy is mine. It belongs to me.” He thrust into you, his pelvis grinding against your ass so tightly you could feel his heavy balls pressing against your ass. “You’re mine, princess…every single inch of you.” His hand left your wrists, both of them now trailing over your body as he slid in and out of you slowly, as if he were savoring every single moment. “This is all mine.”

“All yours…yes…fuck…”

You lost all capacity for complete sentences or coherent thoughts as his hands gripped your breasts, thumbs gliding over your nipples. His movements became more frenzied, rocking into you with enough force to send your body rocking up the bed each time, the bed knocking into the thin wall of his bedroom. Your eyes rolled up in your head, closing. 

“Yes, pretty girl,” he breathed, fingers now grasping your chin. “Look at me. I want to see your face when I make you come all over this cock.”

A guttural sound you didn’t even know you were capable of rose up from deep within you as you opened your eyes to find those chocolate ones staring you down with such intensity. It was as if he was claiming not only your body but your heart and soul. At that moment, he could have anything he wanted as he lifted your leg, propping it over his shoulder, pressing deeper within you, hitting spaces that had your toes curling, had you gasping for breath you couldn’t catch.

“That’s a good girl,” Eddie praised, rutting himself deep within you, his dark waves tickling your cheeks. “All mine.” His lips devoured yours like he was a man starving, kisses warm and wet, sucking your bottom lip, nipping at the tender flesh, his tongue dancing along your own, his mouth swallowing your cries. 

You were desperate to touch him, to dig your nails into his back, to claim him as yours the way he was claiming you. You pulled your mouth from his and latched onto his neck, sucking at the sensitive skin, wanting to leave your own mark. Eddie growled, his hand cradling the back of your head, pressing you against his neck. 

“Jesus H. Christ, sweetheart,” he hissed. “You’re not the good girl everyone wants you to be. I fucking love that I’m the only one who gets to see this side of you.”

“More,” you grunted. “Harder…fuck me harder.”

 You wrapped your other leg around his ass, using it to pull him deeper into you, the two of you grunting at the pleasure it sent shooting through you. Your words and actions only spurred him on and soon the sounds of your flesh colliding echoed through the small space, the two of you a grunting, writhing mess of sweat and passion. 

“Eddie! Yes!” you screamed as you came again, your walls pulsing around him, pulling him in more tightly. 

Eddie’s lips found yours again, his thrusting never ceasing, his chest heaving as you throbbed around his cock. One hand on your wrists, the other on your hip, he thrust fast and hard, close to the edge. You could always tell. His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth, eyes shut, forehead scrunched.

“Fuck, baby…I’m gonna…” he began and then his teeth were biting down into your shoulder, his pelvis flush against you, as he orgasmed again. “Son of a bitch…”

“I can’t move…” you whispered, giggling. “My legs won’t work. You’ve broken me.”

Eddie grinned, running that tongue along his bottom lip. His thumb caressed your jaw as he kissed your nose, “No worries, princess. You don’t need to move.”

He disposed of the condom quickly before laying next to you in bed on his side. You turned over, facing him, both of you grinning like a couple of idiots. Was this what falling in love felt like? You weren’t sure, but you definitely thought it had the potential to be.

“That was…I don’t even think there’s a word to describe what that was,” you said. 

“That was perfect,” Eddie replied. He paused, that tongue poking back out again. His eyes darted away from you. “I…uh…I mean, if we’re going to try dating…I was just wondering if…”

“What?” you asked, laughing. “After what we just did, I wouldn’t think there’s anything you could say that would embarrass you.”

“I was wondering if I could hold you?” he asked, his request so soft you almost didn’t hear it. “I mean, I know we don’t do that but that was when we were just fucking. If we’re dating, then we can do that, right?”

“Oh,” you replied in surprise and watched as his face fell. You scooted closer to him, curling up against him. His eyes widened as he looked down at you and you smiled. Eddie instantly relaxed, his arms coming around you, tucking you into the safest place you’d ever been. Your whole body melted against his, as if it recognized this as where it belonged. “Mmm…I could get used to this.”

“Yeah?” he queried, kissing your forehead. “Me too. So, what should we do on our first date?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Where would you want to go?”

“Do you like the drive-in?” 

“I do,” you began and then laughed, “but is that just a ploy to get some action in the back of your van again.”

“Maybe, but I’d buy you dinner first.”

“Oh, well then it’s a deal,” you grinned and then his lips were on yours again and you thought you could definitely get used to this. 

Tag List:

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[beifongssight]

Sokka x f!Reader | "Family"

so tbh i've always been a Toph girlie and throughout my teenage-hood was a huge Zuko girlie.. so why did some of my Sokka x readers eat when I was sixteen??? sum; After proposing to his long term girlfriend after the war, Sokka and [YourName] wed and soon welcome their first child before greeting their second. tw; fem!reader, everyone does age in this fic, pregnancy, not so steamy makeout leading to implications, birth !!!, wc; 3.1k

It was right after taking out the fleet of fire nation airships did Sokka propose to [YourName]. It was so out of character and unexpected. She originally thought he was joking but the desperate look for an answer in Sokka’s eyes made [YourName]’s laughter die down, “You’re… being serious?” she asked, making Sokka nod. [YourName]’s laughter turned into tears of joy, sure they were only freshly sixteen- but it was normal to get engaged so young, it did not mean they had to marry young. It finally processed in [YourName]’s brain that her boyfriend was proposing to her to marry her, she cried and accepted the proposal. 

When returning to Aang and the others, Sokka couldn’t keep his big mouth shut and announced the engagement after celebrating Aang’s win. Katara, Aang, and Zuko all were shocked into silence while [YourName] simply smiled and nodded while Suki and Toph laughed. After things calmed down, Sokka found the betrothal necklace he had made weeks prior. While [YourName] was talking to her future sister-in-law, Sokka clipped the necklace around his future wife’s neck and the sight made Katara’s heart melt. She had never seen Sokka so happy before, and the smile on [YourName]’s face matched his happiness. 

After getting properly looked at and after Zuko is crowned the Fire Lord, everyone meets up in Ba Sing Se in Iroh’s tea house. At the Jasmine Dragon, [YourName] leaned against Sokka as he drew, things seemed so calm and [YourName] hoped they would remain that way. It was for a bit, Zuko almost went off his rocker, they found his mother and little half sister, and then some more adventures happened all up until Sokka and [YourName] were both twenty-one. Realizing there was no more adventure needed from the Gaang around the world, Sokka and [YourName] settled in the Southern Water Tribe. Sokka took a job in the council before the wedding was put into action. The wedding for Sokka and [YourName] was small, just Aang, Katara, Zuko, Toph, Suki, [YourName]’s parents, Hakoda, and Malina. Medium sized but had everyone important to [YourName] and Sokka. After the wedding, Sokka was approved to leave and the two spent almost two weeks in the Fire Nation just relaxing. 

Shortly after returning from the honeymoon and adjusting into a routine, there was no shock when [YourName] announced her first pregnancy a few years later. Everyone was excited, asking questions about which gender they hoped to have or what they wanted to name their child. After questions died down, everyone decided to head out and enjoy a meal. After returning to the Southern Water Tribe from Republic City, [YourName] watched her husband mature through the days as weeks passed. Between his job and the upcoming child, she knew Sokka was going to mature but it was beautiful seeing it happen. 

Around [YourName]’s due date, Aang, Katara, and little Bumi were all visiting. Sokka decided to step out to get something for dinner and [YourName] was showing Katara around the new home Sokka and [YourName] recently moved in with the upcoming arrival of their child. [YourName] was mid showing the kitchen when she felt a pain and wetness grace her lower half. Katara gasped and went right into action, she had given birth and assisted in plenty of births to know what she had to do. Trying to calm [YourName] down while yelling for Aang to go take Bumi and find Sokka was the hardest part. Mostly because Bumi didn’t want to leave the house and [YourName] was refusing to do anything until Aang left. Eventually Aang just scooped his son and left, leaving Katara to try and calm her friend down. Of course nothing was going calmly until Sokka had busted into the bedroom where Katara led [YourName] to lay down. Katara was on full delivery duty, which meant Bumi and Aang couldn’t interfere with whatever she was doing. Sokka only left the room less than a handful of times to retrieve water or whatever Katara requested his wife needed. Eventually, [YourName] would have to start pushing, and while she was doing that Sokka made sure to let [YourName] know how well she was doing, moving some of her hair out the way, and when her hair fell out of her very loose style, Sokka had no problem trying his best to put it back up. Eventually, there was a loud cry piercing through the room and so much relief was felt between Sokka and [YourName]. “It’s a girl!” Katara said with a proud smile on her face as she set the newborn on [YourName]’s chest so she could finish up what needed to be done. [YourName] had fresh tears running down her face as she admired her daughter, “Oh she’s so perfect..” [YourName] whispered, causing Sokka to agree quietly. After getting their daughter cleaned up and checked on, Katara left Sokka and [YourName] to bond with their daughter. 

It had been after a feeding that Sokka finally had the courage to hold his daughter and do skin-to-skin. [YourName] watched her husband bond with their first born child, a soft warm smile on her tired face. Despite being so tired and drained, [YourName] wanted to give her daughter a name. “How about..” [YourName] began before thinking “Shui, for a name.” the tired new mother offered. Sokka was already smiling and if he could, it would have widened, “I think it’s perfect.” he hummed before coming close to his wife. “Now, rest,” Sokka whispered, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple. [YourName] and Sokka would raise Shui into a spunky little girl. She was a huge daddy’s girl and her personality practically matched her father’s. Between the sass and how things come naturally to her, she was most definitely Sokka’s daughter. Sure, Shui shared some features of her mother, but that was Sokka’s through and through. Shui was now six-years-old and was starting to grow her own personality of her own and [YourName] and Sokka both encouraged Shui to do so. 

Shortly after Shui’s sixth birthday, Sokka was requested to an emergency meeting which meant [YourName] was in charge of putting Shui to bed by herself. [YourName] had done this plenty of times to know the tricks, but she didn’t need to pull any of them out. Sokka kissed his daughter’s head before heading out after dinner, and soon after [YourName] got her daughter into the bath and changed into her nightgown. [YourName] scooped her happy daughter into her arms, making both of them go into a fit of laughter. “Good night, Princess..” [YourName] whispered, booping her daughter’s nose before kissing Shui’s forehead. [YourName] shut her daughter’s door before heading back toward the kitchen and put leftovers away, started to clean the areas that were used, and headed to get ready for bed. [YourName] had no idea how long her husband was going to be at this meeting, but she hoped he’d be home soon to keep his side of the bed warm. [YourName] had just finished changing, letting her hair down, when she heard her husband return. With excitement in her light steps, she rushed over to the man she happily married years ago. “How was the meeting?” [YourName] asked, reaching up to caress her husband’s face. “Great, they requested me join the council in Republic City.” Sokka hummed, leaning down to press a kiss to his wife’s lips. [YourName] gave him a surprised look before pushing Sokka away from her face, “You’re just going to drop this great news and casually try to kiss me? Sokka! This is great news!” [YourName] said in an excited tone. Sokka rolled his eyes playfully before laughing “It’s exactly why I’m trying to kiss you.” he joked before bringing his wife into a kiss. [YourName] laughed into the kiss, allowing her husband to slip his tongue into her mouth. The sudden action caused [YourName] to gasp, but she happily took the bait Sokka was obviously setting out. Sokka’s hands fell from [YourName]’s face down to her waist, which would eventually fall down to her bum. With little needing to be said, [YourName] pulled away for a moment to hop up and Sokka happily caught her. His hands held her thighs as he walked back toward their bedroom. 

Once in the bedroom, Sokka and [YourName] fell onto the bed. Their laughter muffled between their kisses, Sokka gently squeezed [YourName]’s thighs earning a slight whimper from the woman. They truly were testing waters they haven’t tested in weeks, but tonight was worth celebrating. Sokka and [YourName] were as quiet as possible and luckily hadn’t awoken their daughter in the process. 

It shouldn’t have been a shock, but when [YourName] found out through the healer she had once more fallen pregnant she was shocked. Of course the one night she and Sokka decided to have time to themselves, to explore each other like the needy teenagers they never got to be, she falls pregnant again. [YourName] wasn’t upset at the news, just a little shocked. After being dismissed, [YourName] headed straight home. 

It took [YourName] to confess to her husband what is up with her health, finally confessing she was nearly four months pregnant with their second child. Sokka was brought to silence in shock, but laughed before scooping his wife up and twirling her around as if they were younger than they actually were. [YourName] laughed before she was put down, “Spirits, makes me wonder how Shui will react..” the woman says softly.

Their daughter had been an only child for the last six years, and sharing and being nice to the kids around her came naturally, but still worried the parents as they hadn’t even planned to have a second one. Sokka and [YourName] were more than content to have Shui as an only child but obviously the spirits had other plans, plans [YourName] didn’t have the courage to change. “She’ll be fine..” Sokka comforted, pressing a kiss on the crown her head.

Two whole weeks passed and still nothing came out of Sokka or [YourName] in telling Shui she was going to be a big sister. By now, Katara and Aang found out, and the others were next in line, but [YourName] felt she owed it to her daughter to tell her before absolutely anyone else found out. As much as Sokka wanted to be there to see his daughter’s reaction to being a big sister, he allowed [YourName] to take Shui out on a girls day out. 

Shui was eating up her time with her mother, finally settling in a cafe for a little treat. After receiving the small sweet treat and a drink for herself, [YourName] and Shui sat at a table near the corner of the cafe, away from most people since Sokka wasn’t ready to share the news too publicly. [YourName] watched her daughter devour her treat before finally getting to the nitty gritty of why they chose a secluded place to sit. 

“Shui, have you ever wanted a sibling?” [YourName] asks her daughter, the little one looked up from her treat before thinking and nodding. “I want to have always sleepovers.” Shui states her main reason for wanting a sibling, [YourName] smiled at her soft and innocent reasoning before she spoke up, “Well, Shui, I think you’re going to get your wish.” she explained. It confused the little girl at first before [YourName] laughed and further explained, “You’re going to be a big sister, I’m going to have your little sister or brother.” the mother said. 

Processing took a moment, and Shui gasped and squealed. Shui brought her mother in for a tight hug, [YourName] returning the hug. After playing 101 questions with Shui, [YourName] and Shui returned home, Shui rushing in and announcing that her mother was going to have a baby to Sokka who acted shocked at the news. Sokka picked Shui up, “I had no idea!” Sokka claimed, making [YourName] smile and admire her husband and daughter.

Months passed and Republic City was calling Sokka’s name for a meeting. Just, he couldn’t just leave his wife and daughter right now. [YourName] was due in about three weeks and he was worried the meeting would drag into days and between the traveling time and such, he decided Shui and [YourName] tag along. The whole ride there, [YourName] was fighting for her life with sea sickness and Shui was excitedly telling all the soldiers on board she was going to be a big sister, as if they hadn’t heard it the first million times. But because she was Sokka’s daughter, they let her talk about it. 

Landing in Republic City, Sokka immediately took [YourName] and Shui to Air Temple Island. Aang and Katara happily greeted Sokka, [YourName], and Shui. Shui looked around before she heard yelling and after getting the ‘okay’ she went ahead to find her cousins to join in their playing. Once Aang escorted [YourName] away to show her where she could rest until dinner, Katara talked to her brother. “Why would you bring her here when she’s so close to her due date…?” Katara asked in an almost scolding tone. Sokka sighed, knowing this was coming from his sister. “I didn’t want to miss her giving birth and I thought this was probably the best option.” Sokka explained, Katara cocked an eyebrow but rolled her eyes, “Whatever, just know traveling takes a toll on the body, plus being pregnant, you owe her some sort of massage.” she huffed before taking her leave to find her children and niece. 

As his sister advised, Sokka sought out his wife to give her a nice massage before dinner. “The meeting is fairly early in the morning,” Aang explains over dinner to Sokka, [YourName] and Katara were too busy teaming up together to make sure the children were eating. Sokka nods, listening to Aang speak about the importance of this meeting. 

Eventually dinner was over and everyone was retiring to bed, Shui found her parents before they excused themselves to bed and asked if she could sleep with them instead of in Kya’s bed. Sokka was ready to question his daughter on the sudden switch in plans, but [YourName] interrupted and agreed. “She won’t be an only child for much longer and I want her to know how much I love her..” [YourName] said to Sokka before turning to her daughter and making her way to the bedroom. 

The following morning, before the sun even thought about rising, Sokka woke up. He got ready for the meeting before kissing Shui’s head and placing a quick, lazy kiss on his wife’s lips. [YourName] had woken up temporarily to wish her husband a good day, but soon fell back to sleep until Shui woke her up for breakfast. 

The day started off perfectly fine. [YourName] got her daughter dressed before herself and headed to breakfast where Bumi and Kya waited for their mother to place the food on the table. [YourName] tried to assist Katara in getting breakfast finished, but the woman simply refused and forced [YourName] to sit down and monitor the three children as they talked. Eventually, breakfast was served and everyone began to eat. 

It was then that [YourName] should have noticed something was off. She tried to play it off as simple false labor pains but throughout the day it kept throbbing and getting worse. Finally, while she was walking with the kids to where they were guiding her. As they walked, she felt a slight pop before liquid ran down her legs making her halt her walking. Shui was the first to notice her mother stopping, so she stopped Bumi and Kya, and all three came to investigate. “Go find Katara-” [YourName] asked the children, and before she had to repeat herself Bumi took hold of his sister’s and cousin’s hand and went to find his mother. When Katara came rushing into the hallway, children nowhere in sight, [YourName] was straining not to absolutely collapse. With assistance from Katara, [YourName] was put into a room and preparation for the birth had begun. [YourName] was panicking and it was not helping the situation, “I’m not due for another week- Katara- please, I can wait.” she said, trying to convince herself along with Katara. “[YourName], I warned Sokka traveling strains the body and he shouldn’t have brought you- you can’t wait, this baby is coming.” The waterbender said, trying to erase whatever thoughts were going through [YourName]’s mind. “What about Sokka?” [YourName] said, nearly sobbing.

Shit.

“I can’t do this without him, Katara.” [YourName] said, fear and nervousness leaking from her words. Katara wanted to comfort her as a sister-in-law but she knew as a friend she had to help [YourName] face the music. “Sokka won’t make it back in time. If you try and hold this baby in, not just the baby will be in trouble, but you too.” Katara said, prepping her water. [YourName]’s head fell back as she sobbed, knowing she was going to have to do this with just herself and Katara. 

It was shorter than Shui’s birth, but still a handful of hours passed and a healthy baby. Right as that cry was heard, the door busted open to reveal Sokka. [YourName]’s tense body relaxed at the sight. “It’s a boy!” Katara announced as she placed the little one on [YourName]’s chest as Sokka made his way over. Sokka kneeled down and profusely apologized to his wife for missing the birth of their son. Between sweat, tears, and helping her son latch on to her breast, [YourName] managed to whisper a soft ‘it’s alright.’. All that mattered now was that Sokka was here now and he got to hold his son. After the little boy ate and was washed and checked on, Katara left to allow Sokka and [YourName] to bond with their son. “No.. No more, okay?” [YourName] said as she gently handed their son over to Sokka, “Children? Yeah, I think my cap is two anyways..” Sokka hummed as he took the little one. This simply made [YourName] softly chuckle. 

Things were settling down, Sokka had done skin to skin and then brought in dinner, which left naming their son. The baby went a whole night without a name, unlike his sister who [YourName] carefully planned her to be a girl. “How about Hakoda? After my father.” Sokka suggested making [YourName]’s heart melt. Hakoda, Sokka’s father, had passed the chief title to Sokka shortly before passing and it was a super emotional few weeks of [YourName]’s pregnancy. 

When morning came and graced Republic City, Shui was welcomed into the now cleaned room. Sokka brought his daughter into his lap to show her baby Hakoda. Shui was at a loss for words before Sokka assisted Shui in holding her baby brother. It was moments like this that [YourName]’s heart strings were tugged. Watching Shui be so gentle and polite made [YourName]’s worries all drift away.

She couldn’t wait to see what was next.