#that boy's got a mouth on him lemme tell ya

[moonflwer-gutz]

the mark swearing headcanon?? you get it. you get me. you're picking up what I'm putting down. he's a good christian boy but he swears all the time 100%

YEAH LIKE

it goes like this every time it goes like this-

Cesar: [fucks something up] Oh, goddammit!

Mark: [GASP] How could you say something like that!? Cannot believe you'd treat the Lord's name like that!!

meanwhile...

Mark: [gets a itty bitty papercut] YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF GODDAMN SHIT GODDAMN FUCK BITCH-

Cesar: And I'm the problem-

#that boy's got a mouth on him lemme tell ya #mark heathcliff #cesar torres #hes a hypocrite- #tmc #moonflwer headcanons #tmc headcanon #the mandela catalogue #moonflwer answers

[zeddpool]

gettin real tired of people equating farm country/rural areas to the american south. By which I mean if one more motherfucker says the Clark Kent of Smallville, KANSAS, would have a Southern accent, I’m going to scream

#DC #Superman #Clark Kent #Kal El #if you're gonna give him an accent at all he better sound like my mother's half of the family #every other word out of his mouth better be 'why dontcha' 'dontcha know' or 'oop lemme squeeze right past ya' #you're going to look at this corn-fed midwestern boy and tell me he's got anything assuave as a southern accent #no

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)

thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’

“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”

connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.

you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.

your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’

you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.

“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.

“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.

you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.

“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.

you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”

your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”

with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”

connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”

you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”

connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”

a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”

connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”

“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.

“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.

“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.

connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”

“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.

“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.

you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”

connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”

you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.

“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”

“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”

suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”

more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“

“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”

it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“

“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.

“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.

“dio mio.”

#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐ #connie springer x black reader #connie springer x chubby reader #connie springer smut #plug connie x black reader #connie x black reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer #connie springer x black reader smut #connie smut #aot x black reader #aot x chubby reader #aot smut #aot connie #connie aot

[bricknees]

merle was a creep at times but he was on his way to redemption. i love the idea of sort-of-brother-in-law merle that got to live a little longer and make an effort to be a better person.

this is assuming daryl's partner is a female, btw

❜ ─ more under cut ─ ❛

• merle realizing just how head over heels daryl is for you. he would give him HELL over it but at the end of the day he would be so protective over this little ray of light in his baby brother's life

• you think daryl can be scary when a guy's looking at you the wrong way? the guy's quite literally done for when merle finds out

• "merle, you can't say that, that's offensive-" "aw hell, y'all are some damn pansies!"

• "lemme know when you get tired of my little bro, i'll show you what a real man's like-" "you ever shut yer damn mouth, merle?"

• ^ he's not serious though. he just likes to get daryl riled up and thinks it's funny to see your nose scrunch up in disgust, even if he does end up getting clocked in the jaw for it

• when the brothers go on supply runs, merle points out necklaces or earrings they come across, encouraging daryl to take it for you because "women love shiny shit"

• he's always asking you when you're going to pop out a little boy so he can finally be an uncle

• "how ya know it wouldn't be a girl?" "ain't been a girl with dixon blood since i been alive, brother. ain't gonna happen." (if you and daryl have a baby, it definitely does happen)

• when the prison falls, you can't find daryl and there's no more time, so you end up running from the prison with merle

• he hates it

• like every second of it

• not necessarily because he minds your company, but moreso because this is a huge fucking weight on his shoulders

• your wellbeing is now his #1 priority because you're daryl's girl and that makes you family, and he has no intentions of letting his little brother down again

• so it's a lot of pressure

• plus you keep giving him that nasty ass side-eye like he pissed in your cornflakes any time he says something that he finds hilarious (it's actually just offensive), and he's starting to think your sense of humor is nonexistent

• you expect him to make some vulgar jokes or try to come onto you at any given minute, but to your surprise, he actually never does

• like i said, he was never serious and he only joked about it to mess with daryl. without daryl around, he's rather respectful of your space

• at night he tells you stories of his time in the military before he got discharged and went to prison

• please don't cry around him :) he likes you and all, but he would really rather cut off his other hand than have to try and comfort you - that's daryl's job

• the only time he manages to not be an ass when you're crying is when you mention worrying about daryl and missing him

• merle lets out a hefty sigh in response, ruffles your hair with his one hand, and admits that he misses him, too

#merle dixon #daryl dixon #twd #twd headcanons #headcanons #twd imagine #daryl dixon x reader

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Summary: A baby shower has you reuniting with Eddie (and Harris). Unbeknownst to Eddie, it's right when he'll need you most--but is he ready to forgive?

Warnings: mention of pregnancy, small allusion to sex, mentions of Grandma Sweetheart's death, mentions of learning disability

WC: 7.4k

Chapter 11/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Mid-January in Hawkins is cold, with temperatures in the mid-30s, but a bundled-up Harris Munson is unfazed. Eddie happily watches as his son practically flies across the empty playground and heads straight for the swingset. In the warmer weather, it’s a coveted spot amongst the kids and usually ends in a battle, but the chill in the air means that Harris doesn’t have to fight for a turn. 

“Daddy! Uncle Jeff!” he calls out, voice muffled by the blue scarf securely wrapped around the lower half of his face, “come push me!”

Jeff laughs with a shake of his head as he and Eddie trudge across the frost-covered grass. “You heard the man.”

“Ready to have a little gremlin of your own?” Eddie teases, hoisting Harris onto the swing, making sure his bottom is squared on the rubber surface. He catches a glimpse of the baby swing to his right, and his heart pangs at the memory of Harris being tiny enough to fit in there. “Lemme tell ya, it goes by quick. The days are long but the years are short.”

Jeff just gives a little nod, and Eddie can tell that he doesn’t quite believe him. “I’m serious, man. And all that stuff they say about not knowing what love is until you have kids? Man, I thought that was the biggest crock of shit. Like, of course I know what love is! I love my music, my uncle, even you guys,” he adds with a gleam in his eyes, referring to his former bandmates. “And then Harris was born, and I was like, ‘holy shit, this is what it means to love someone.’” He positions himself behind the swing, giving Harris another big push before stepping aside to let Jeff have a turn. 

Jeff looks at him incredulously. Eddie Munson is no stranger to a good rant, but never one this vulnerable. He’s speechless for a moment before clearing his throat. “Th-Thanks, Ed,” he manages, offering the white paper bag he’d picked up on the way to the playground. “Y’still like peanut butter creme donuts, right?”

“Hell yes!” Eddie cheers, pumping his fist in excitement. He reaches into the bag and pulls out the chocolate frosted confection, taking a huge bite triumphantly. “‘M tellin’ ya: Em and Abi’s Gourmet Donuts is the best thing about this town,” he exclaims with a mouthful of peanutty filling. 

“Really?” Jeff chuckles, taking a honeycomb donut from the bag. “Better than a certain preschool teacher you may or may not be infatuated with?”

A blush creeps into Eddie’s cheeks, and he hopes he can pass it off as a reaction to the winter winds. “Not in front of…” he trails off, jerking his head in the direction of his son. 

“Got it, got it,” Jeff smoothly agrees, but he still presses the topic in a roundabout way. “But, uh, any luck with that?”

“Nope,” Eddie cuts him off. “I’ve just been giving her space like you said, but she hasn’t reached out or asked about tutoring again.” He shrugs as though it doesn’t bother him, but both he and Jeff know that that can’t be further from the truth. 

Jeff gives Harris a big push, smiling when he hears the boy’s giggle. “You haven’t called or anything?” he asks. 

“Once, after I saw her during drop-off.” Eddie admits, twisting the ring on his pinky finger. “Left a message but she never called back.”

He plays it back in his head, a constant loop that he’d practically memorized before relaying it to your answering machine. As much as he wanted to resolve everything sooner rather than later, he was embarrassingly relieved when he’d heard your outgoing message. Still, the sweetness of your recorded voice was honeyed tea on a dreary day, and he didn’t anticipate his breath to hitch when it played. 

“H-Hey, Sweetheart. Shit, can I call you that? Um, anyway, give me a call when you can. I think we should talk.”

The two men take turns pushing Harris and chasing him around the playground. At one point, Harris makes his way to the pole, painted school bus yellow. He reaches out with two chubby hands, but his feet stay grounded on the platform. “‘M scared,” he whimpers, still clinging to the pole. 

“You got this, Mini Munson!” Jeff cheers, frowning when Harris remains in place. “Tell ya what: if you slide down the pole, I’ll make your dad do it, too.” He grins mischievously, and Eddie would discreetly flip him the bird if he didn’t have a better alternative. 

“Yeah, bud, and then Uncle Jeff will go after me.” He mouths a silent ha at his friend, but neither seem to mind. 

And after a few seconds of deliberation, Harris flings his body forward and slowly makes his way down, hands squeaking along the metal.

“I did it!” he announces triumphantly, turning to Eddie. “Your turn, Daddy!”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, but a smile dances on his lips. He darts up the jungle gym steps and hangs onto the pole. He could simply put his feet down and touch the ground, but where’s the fun in that? Instead, he lets out a high-pitched, “wheeeee!” as Harris cackles loudly. 

He claps Jeff on the back once his shoes touch the rubber turf. “You’re up, big boy.”

Jeff follows suit, mimicking Eddie and making Harris laugh even harder. 

“Uncle Jeff, you’re so silly!” he exclaims, using hands and feet to clamber back up to the top and slide down the pole; this time, there’s no hesitation. 

Harris repeats the routine again and again until Eddie catches a glimpse of the digital watch around his wrist. “We gotta leave in five minutes, Har Bear,” he reports matter-of-factly, hoping his lack of emotion will ward off any impending tantrums. 

Harris’s lower lip juts out as his pupils dart back and forth between Eddie and Jeff. “Aw, why?”

Eddie crouches down to match his son’s height, pressing palms to his knees for stability. “We’re gonna help Uncle Jeff pack up the presents from the baby shower, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He pauses, pursing his lips in concentration. “How did the baby get in Auntie Viv’s tummy?”

Jeff’s eyes widen at the question, and he glances at Eddie, silently willing him to say something. Eddie clears his throat, wracking his brain for a response that will placate his son’s curiosity without giving away too much information. “Um, well,” he begins, biting the inside of his cheek to buy himself more time before settling on: “when a man and a woman love each other, that love can make a baby.”

Fortunately, Harris seems satisfied with that answer, and Jeff hands him a chocolate donut to distract him from asking anything else. The boy plunks down in the grass a few paces ahead of them and takes a big bite.

“How is it?” Jeff calls to him, chuckling when Harris responds with a chocolate crumb-covered thumbs up and turns his attention back to the dessert. “Nice save,” he says to Eddie, clapping a hand on his shoulder and giving him a little shake. “But what are you gonna say when he asks about his mom?”

“Jesus H; he’s gonna have to give me a few years to come up with an answer for that one.”

Despite every cell in your body urging you to stay away, you’re back in Hawkins. More specifically, you’re in Viv and Jess’s parents’ house, cleaning up after an overall successful baby shower. You’re spooning the leftover food into Tupperware while Jess washes dishes and her girlfriend, Robin, dries and puts them in their respective cabinets.

You’d returned to Grandma’s apartment last night after Jess begged you to come to the shower, lamenting that the party was going to be all of her sister’s lame friends and she needed someone actually fun to hang out with her and Robin. Her insistence, coupled with your desire to finish out the remainder of the school year, is why you’d tossed your suitcases into your sedan and made the trek. Yup, those were the only reasons; certainly nothing to do with–

“Have you talked to Eddie since you got back?”

His name alone brings a surge of emotions, none of which you have the energy to identify. “No,” you mumble, a heat blooming in your cheeks, “he left a message a week ago saying ‘we should talk,’ but I didn’t return it.”

Jess snaps off the faucet, hands still dripping with soapy water as she places them on her hips with an exasperated sigh. “What? Why not?”

“Because.” You try to leave it at that, but her defiant glare obligates you to elaborate. “Because I’m embarrassed!” you admit to Jess and Robin–and to yourself. “The guy practically chased me down the night we met, and now that he got to know me, he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Is my personality that much of a turn-off?” You snap the lid on a plastic container, desperate to end the conversation with your rhetorical question, but your friend keeps going.

“Look, I don’t know him that well–only what I’ve heard from you and Jeff–but he seems to really care about you. Jeff says he hasn’t seen Eddie down this bad, like, ever.” She lowers her voice. “Apparently, some old hookup was coming onto him, and he turned her down because he's, quote, involved with someone.” She raises her eyebrows inquisitively, though you both know that the someone in question is you.

“Wait, hold on–Eddie Munson?” Robin breaks in, nearly dropping the serving spoon in her hand when she makes the connection. “Metalhead, senior year three-peat, alleged Satan-worshiper Eddie Munson?”

“Well, the jury’s out on whether I worship Satan or I actually am Satan, but, yep, that’s me.” The familiar voice from the kitchen doorway startles the three of you; this time, Robin does let the oversized utensil fall to the floor with a clang. 

Nerves send your heartbeat into a frenzy, and you have to rest your open palm on the countertop to steady yourself. Eddie stands before you, tip of his nose tinged red from the cold, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Wh-What are you doing here?” You whisper the words, but you might as well be shouting with the level of anxiety steadily rising in your chest.

Eddie rocks back and forth from the soles of his feet to his toes. “Jeff asked us to help him load the gifts into the car.”

“Us?”

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris flings himself into your embrace, and as soon as you stoop down to reciprocate his hug, he’s wrapping his arms and legs around your torso. “I miss you! When are we gonna do the alphabet and eat pizza again?”

Eddie looks over at Jeff; you hadn’t even noticed the other man behind him until Eddie’s gaze drifted over. You watch as the two men exchange a knowing glance, and Jeff quickly speaks up. “Hey, Har,” he motions the boy over to him, “why don’t you use your super strong arms to bring stuff out to the car? I bet you have bigger muscles than me.”

Harris begrudgingly lets go of you, sliding to the floor and dragging his feet to Jeff. He heaves a dramatic sigh and grumbles, “fiiiiiine,” and you and Eddie have to hold back your laughter at his theatrics.

“He is definitely my kid,” Eddie says once Harris has left the room and is out of earshot. He walks closer to you as you turn back to packing up the food. “You, um, never called me back,” he murmurs, placing one hand on either side of you, his chest almost touching your back. Robin and Jess creep out of the kitchen as quietly as possible, leaving you and Eddie alone.

You clear your throat and swallow your fear. “I didn’t have anything to say.” That’s a lie; there was so much you wanted to confide in him, but the thought of him rejecting you again, or getting another glimpse of the hurt you caused reflected in his deep brown eyes, kept you from returning his call.

“Well, I did.” His tone is calm but firm. “I just need to know one thing, and then I swear I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” He pauses, gathering up his own courage before speaking again. “That day…why did you ask me to sleep with you?” 

“I told you,” you say, desperately trying to keep your voice from wobbling, “because I needed to feel something.”

Eddie shakes his head, stepping back and crossing his leather jacket-clad arms over his chest. “No, but why did you ask me? Why didn’t you go to the Hideout and pick up some random dude?” His volume starts to rise, and he clenches his fist and drags it back down as if reminding himself to be quieter. “Was it, like, a convenience thing, or did you really think I’d be okay having sex with you while you were so upset?”

Your heart pangs at his question. It had never even occurred to you that he’d perceive it that way. Were you being selfish? Taking what you felt you needed? Admittedly, yes. But were you asking Eddie specifically because he happened to be there? Absolutely not. “No, Eddie,” you say, forcing yourself to face him, “it’s because…because I knew you’d take care of me. If I wanted to stop or slow down, I knew you’d listen. I trust you.” Speaking the truth aloud is like letting the air out of an overfilled balloon on the cusp of popping. Both you and Eddie visibly relax, easing a tension you hadn’t realized he was also holding. 

The room is quiet for a moment. Eddie’s knee softly bumps against your thigh as he wills himself to close the gap he’d created. “You said something in your message about it never being meaningless. Not even the night we…we met.”

The reminder of your confession floods you with humiliation. You—unsuccessfully—threw yourself at him for sex and then left a message saying that you’ve been clinging to the hope of a relationship since your alcohol-laden first hook-up. How humiliating. 

“I’m sorry if that was weird, but I told Jess that I’ve never been good at one-night stands. I always get too attached.” And it doesn’t help when I have to see the guy and his adorable son twice a day, you think wryly, but you store that anecdote inside. 

Eddie shakes his head, lacing his ringed fingers with your bare ones. The pad of his thumb brushes against the knuckle of yours, both comforting you and zapping electricity through your body. “No, ‘s not weird,” he reassures you, giving your hands a squeeze. “I felt the same way, even if I didn’t realize it. I think that’s why I asked you to stay, why I held you…I’ve never done that before.” He’s sheepish but not ashamed; if he’s being honest, he’s pretty damn proud of himself for admitting it aloud. 

You tilt your chin up knowingly. “Yeah, I heard you shut down a sure thing because of your involvement with someone.”

Your emphasis of that one word has Eddie dropping his head, letting go of one of your hands and covering his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Damn, word spreads around here like it’s the five o’clock news. But, uh, yeah, I did. Turn her down.” His tongue darts out to coat his dry lips. “Not that it’s any of my business, but did you, um, see anyone over the holidays?” 

“Nope.” You shake your head, bracing yourself for what you’re about to tell him. Even though he’s the one holding you, allowing your bodies to intertwine, it’s nerve-wracking to be so vulnerable. You forge ahead, allowing the words to tumble out of your mouth. “I…I only want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s breath gets caught in his throat. Want want want. Present tense, not past. “Want, like, present tense? Like you still feel that way?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t reek of desperation for a millisecond before realizing that he doesn’t care, as long as you still want him.

“Is that okay?” Your voice is small, an almost comic contrast from the bravado you used during your last in-person encounter. 

“It’s more than okay, Sweetheart.” Eddie’s whisper matches yours. His thumb ghosts over the plush of your lips as his hand slips to your cheek, bringing his remaining four fingers behind your ears and to the nape of your neck. He leans in, drawing you closer with his tantalizing smoky scent and raw desire. One step in, noses nudging together–

“Daddy, look at me!”

Eddie whips his head around at the sound of Harris’s voice, nearly crashing against yours, and you stumble backwards into the counter, wincing as you make contact with the linoleum. You bite back the string of swear words on your tongue, both at the pain and the missed kiss.

Jeff is panting as he chases after him, bending forward at the waist and resting his palms on his thighs. “I tried to keep him entertained, but I was not prepared for this level of energy,” he huffs, chest rising and falling with each heaving breath. His eyes dart between you and Eddie, easily picking up on the guilty looks on your faces. He mouths “sorry” and shrugs, but the moment is already over.

Harris, oblivious to the burgeoning tension in the room, tugs on his dad’s sleeve in a demand for attention. “Daddy, wanna see me lift stuff?” He jumps up and down as he asks, making his words vibrate. “Uncle Jeff says I’m the strongest kid in the world!” He opens his arms the entire length of his wingspan to emphasize his point.

“Uh, y-yeah; sure, bud.” Eddie stammers. He looks over at you and you follow his lead, watching as Harris lifts a box of diapers with a dramatic grunt. When Eddie is sure that his son has fully turned around, he grabs your hand once more and gives it a little squeeze. “We’ll pick up where we left off later,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, and it sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Ms. Sweetheart, you watch, too!” Harris insists; so you do, trailing after him all the way to Jeff’s car. Unable to see over the box, he walks it right into the back bumper, and Eddie has to step in and help him.

Once the diapers have been tetris'd into the trunk, Jeff closes the door and slaps it for good measure. “Well, I think that’s everything. Thanks again, Munson…Mini Munson.” He ruffles Harris’s mop of curls with a grin.

Eddie holds out his hand, pulling Jeff in for a hug when he takes it. “Congratulations again, man. I’m really happy for you guys.” And he genuinely is. He can’t wait to see one of his oldest and closest friends experience fatherhood.

He turns to you as Jeff heads back into the house to help Viv to the car. “Did you have anything to eat?” he asks. “I mean, we can go to Benny’s if you want. I was gonna take Harris.” The kid hasn’t had anything since breakfast except the donut, and he’s bound to get cranky sooner rather than later. 

You shake your head. “No, I wasn’t really hungry. But I’m down to split a stack of pancakes with you, if you want?”

“Like you used to do with Grandma?” He remembers you mentioning the tradition during her eulogy. The corners of his lips turn up slightly, though his smile quickly falters when he notices the misty film glazing your eyes. “Sorry, I—”

“I’m good,” you reassure him, dabbing at your lash line with the heel of your hand. “Someone really special once told me that it’s okay to be sad, so I’m kind of giving that a shot.”

This time, Eddie’s grin remains. “Is that a ‘yes’ to the pancakes?”

“Yeah. It’s a yes.” You giggle when Eddie makes a fist and pumps it in celebration. “We usually got blueberry, but I’m down for chocolate chip,” you say, remembering his food preference from your first date.

“Nah, I can get behind blueberry,” he says. What he doesn’t say is that he would eat anchovy pancakes if it meant making you happy. 

“But I want chicken fingers!” Harris scrunches up his nose, and both you and Eddie know that a hungry four-year-old is not to be challenged. 

Eddie scoops Harris up into his arms, smacking a wet kiss to his chubby cheek. One day, his son will wipe them off, but Eddie’s glad that today is not that day. “Then the boy shall have the finest chicken fingers in all of Hawkins!” He declares in a deep voice before winking at you. “More pancakes for me and the pretty lady.”

Harris’s eyes widen. “So you do think she’s pretty–”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road!” Eddie cuts him off. You duck your head as though that will ward off further questioning from Harris, but not before catching a glimpse of Eddie mouthing, “like a princess.”

You can smell the aroma of the deep fryer as soon as you pull into Benny’s parking lot. Since you drove yourself to the shower, you and Eddie take separate cars and meet there. The small diner isn’t overly crowded, and the three of you squeeze into a booth in the back corner. Eddie sits on one side and you on the other; you assume Harris will slide in next to his dad, but he chooses you instead. 

Your waiter introduces himself as Ryan and places three sets of silverware on the table. He starts to hand you the menus, but Eddie politely shakes his head and tells him, “‘S all good, man. We know what we want.” He orders a plate of chicken fingers and fries for Harris and a short stack of blueberry pancakes for you and him. “Y’want anything to drink?” he asks you, and you contemplate for a moment before ordering a hot coffee, and Eddie gets the same.

“I want a coffee, too,” Harris pipes up, flashing his million-watt grin at Ryan, who holds back a laugh and promises that the food will be right out.

 “So, Harris,” you start, taking a small sip from the glass of ice water in front of you, “how was your Christmas? Get anything good?”

“Mhm!” he chirps, swiveling his body to face yours. “I got a bunch of new Hot Wheels and some cool markers for drawing. They smell like fruits!”

“Very different from when I used to sniff markers back in my day,” Eddie jokes, and you kick his foot lightly in an attempt to silently tell him to behave. His eyes twinkle mischievously when you playfully roll yours.

“That sounds awesome!” you exclaim, bringing your attention back to Harris and adding, “I bet Mr. Will would want to see your new markers if you want to swing by my classroom on Monday.”

Harris’s face lights up, and he claps his hands together in jubilance. “Maybe I can draw something for him!”

“He’d love that,” you tell him, and the little boy squeezes his hands into tiny fists and lets out an excited squeal.

Ryan returns a few moments later balancing a plate of chicken fingers in one hand and the pancakes in the other. Your stomach rumbles; you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you were presented with food. Eddie peels back the film of one of the small plastic syrup containers, positioning it over the pancakes and cocking his eyebrow to get your approval. You nod, and he tilts and swirls it as you watch it drip down the sugary stack. 

“How was your visit with your family?” He doesn’t refer to it as your visit home, because he hopes that you consider Hawkins your home now. He unfurls his napkin and pulls out the fork and knife, cutting into the stack, and you mirror his actions.

Harris stretches his arm out across you, and you realize he’s reaching for the glass ketchup bottle, so you twist off the cap and plop some onto his plate. He dips a fry into it happily. “About as good as it could be,” you answer Eddie. “Everyone kind of tried to act normal, but it was like they were trying too hard, y’know?”

“Was Grandma there?” Harris asks through a mouthful of fried potato.

You bite your lip, not quite sure what he knows and what Eddie wants him to know. Death is a tricky subject to broach with young kids, and you don’t want to say anything that will confuse or scare him. Luckily, Eddie jumps in and comes to your rescue. “Har Bear, remember I told you that Grandma went to Heaven?” He gently reminds his son. “That’s why you made that nice card for Ms. Sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harris’s expression morphs from inquisitive to concern, even as he chows down on a chicken finger. “Are you still sad?”

“Sometimes,” you admit, more to yourself than to him, “but it gets a little better every day. And being around my favorite guys helps put me in a good mood.”

Eddie presses a syrupy hand to his chest in mock astonishment. “Who, us?” He smiles and spears another cut of pancake with his fork. “How did you know flattery works with me?”

Before you can formulate a response–something teasing but not overly flirtatious–Harris poses a new question: “Ms. Sweetheart, do you have any babies?”

“Harris!” His son’s name comes out sharper than he intends, but Eddie’s too flustered to think twice. He looks at you apologetically, practically crimson from his cheeks to his ears. “Sorry, he hasn’t stopped talking about babies since I told him about the baby shower.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, giving his hand a small squeeze to show that you truly don’t mind Harris’s curiosity. You look at the boy and tell him, “I don’t have any babies, but I consider all of my students to be my babies.”

“Me, too?”

You chuckle and take a sip of coffee. “Of course, you, too!”

There’s a brief silence as you all eat–Eddie steals a fry from Harris’s plate and shoves it in his mouth before he can get caught. While hilarious, his timing couldn’t be worse, because he has no way of stopping Harris’s next statement:

“You and my daddy could have a baby. Because you’re a woman and he’s a man.” It’s matter-of-fact, said while dunking his food in the ketchup pile, as though this is something everyone drops into normal conversation. “That’s how you get a baby in your tummy like Aunt Viv.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle your laughter, not wanting to reinforce his inadvertently entertaining assertion.

Eddie is far less amused than you are, nearly choking on his swiped French fry. “Chrissakes…” he hisses, ducking and bringing his fist to his forehead, “Harris, eat your chicken fingers, quietly.” He breathes out with a puff of his cheeks as Harris obliges, completely oblivious to the meaning behind his suggestion. 

A beat of awkward silence ensues as you eat a hunk of pancake, warm blueberry juice seeping into your tongue. Grandma used to joke around and say that the blueberries made it a healthy food. “Practically a fruit salad,” she’d tease with a glint of happiness dancing in her eyes. 

Eddie, meanwhile, is desperate for a subject change. His palms are slick from what he’s like to think is merely embarrassment, but it’s multifaceted. The idea of the three of you sitting in Benny’s just as you are now, only you’re eating for two, has his stomach in knots. And if he even dares to dream about what getting you pregnant entails? He’s a goner.  

“Harris has a birthday coming up,” he blurts out a bit too loudly, unable to control his volume. “He’s turning the big, uh, five.” 

You can feel Harris eagerly kicking his legs next to you, so you match his enthusiasm. “Wow, Har! That’s a whole hand!” You hold up five fingers and Harris does the same, bringing his palm to yours.

“Are you gonna come to my birthday party?” He peers up at you with hopeful eyes, and you’re left scrambling for a response that doesn’t give away that you haven’t exactly been invited.

“Oh, I, um…”

“She’s going to check her calendar and see,” Eddie offers, and you exhale at his quick save. Turns his attention to you. “His birthday is February 6, but that’s a Thursday, so we’re gonna do his party that Saturday at the bowling alley. Just me, Wayne, and a couple of the kids from school. And you, if you can make it.” Shit, is he rambling? Was that too much information? You spend every day with kids; would you really want to spend a Saturday afternoon at a birthday party surrounded by them?

He’s not overanalyzing for long before you speak. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Do grown-ups get to bowl, too?” You perch your chin on your hand, blinking to emphasize your curiosity. Bowling has never been your forte, but you imagine you’ll fare quite well compared to a group of five-year-olds. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie laughs kindly, letting his arm cross the table so that the back of his fingers can graze your forearm, “that’s a given.”

The three of you head out to your cars—not before you and Eddie argue over who’s going to pay the bill, with you eventually winning the battle. He takes Harris’s right hand as you step off of the sidewalk and into the parking lot, and Harris instinctively slips his left into yours. He walks between you and his dad naturally, as though it’s always been this way. Like you all were a little family that made regular outings for pancakes and chicken fingers.

“Har, go get in your car seat, and I’ll be there in a sec to buckle you in,” Eddie says gently, opening the door for him. 

Harris climbs in clumsily, calling back, “Bye, Ms. Sweetheart!” His farewell ends with a yawn, suggesting that there will be a nap in the near future. 

Eddie closes the door, shoving his hands in his pockets bashfully. It’s one of his nervous quirks, you’ve noticed, and you’re immediately inclined to reassure him about whatever’s on his mind. “Hey, um, could I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I talked to the people at the school,” he starts, kicking at the gravel under his feet, “and Harris has that evaluation thing on Monday. Would you…”

You don’t even let him finish his request before confirming, “I’ll be there.”

Eddie’s body instantly relaxes, relief flooding through him at your words. “You’re amazing.” He looks around to make sure Harris can’t see before kissing you, lips quickly melding together. He has to pull back before he wants to, before either of you want to, to avoid getting caught. He tastes like coffee and syrup with a hint of berries, though the kiss is too brief to pick up on anything else. A stirring inside you informs you that he could kiss you for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough. “See you, Sweetheart.”

Mondays are characteristically exhausting; kids are home for two days on the weekends and return behaving like they’ve never seen a classroom before. Today is no exception, but the coffee Eddie left on your desk this morning certainly helps. He’d tried to sneak in, but you’d caught him, and it took everything in your power not to plant a kiss on his cheek right then and there. Scrawled on the side of the to-go cup in his messy handwriting were three simple words that made your heart soar: For my Sweetheart. 

What you didn’t know was that Eddie had thought about what he’d wanted to write for the entire car ride. Nothing too clingy, but nothing too distant. Not sappy but not brusque. Even the word my between “for” and “Sweetheart” was daunting; how would you feel about being his? 

By the time the afternoon rolls around, neither of you are too concerned with romantic gestures. You and Eddie sit in the hard plastic chairs outside the school psychiatrist’s office. He’s already answered all of her questions, so now it’s simply a matter of waiting for the observation to end. 

You can hear Harris giggling from the other side of the door, and you look over to smile at Eddie, but he either didn’t hear it or his nerves have built up an impenetrable barrier. 

He exhales slowly, puffing out his cheeks and leaning his head back against the brick wall. It’s a sigh of defeat, not relief, and you lean over and squeeze his hand without a second thought. The edges of his skull ring dig into your palm, but you couldn’t care less. Your only priority is keeping him calm. 

“Hey,” you murmur, crossing one leg over the other. He looks through you, not at you, and you  brush a stray lock of hair from his face to ground him. Once he’s settled, you continue talking. “Everything will be alright. Either he doesn’t have a disability, or we’ll be one step closer to getting him the accommodations he needs.”

Eddie nods. “I know. I just…” He pauses for a beat, struggling to find words that accurately convey his myriad emotions. Besides anxiety about the unknown path that lays before him and Harris, guilt gnaws at him for his past misgivings. The careless sex with Harris’s mom, the stupid fucking tour that he just had to go on while she was pregnant, the blissful ignorance that he could have his cake and eat it, too. “I hate that he can’t learn, like, normally. Like the other kids.”

Your instinct is to tell him that Harris doesn’t need to be like the other kids, that he’s perfectly and unequivocally himself, but that’s not what Eddie needs right now. 

“It’s tough,” you agree, “but Harris is a great kid with big dreams, and he’s not going to let anything stop him. All we have to do is support him along the way.”

Eddie ponders that for a moment, slightly amused at the accuracy of your statement, given what you don’t know. Beyond reading and math–both of which he’s shown improvements in since you’ve begun your tutoring sessions–Harris refuses to give up on his quest to get you and Eddie together. The hand-holding drawing was only the tip of the iceberg; Wayne’s since reported that the boy has asked multiple times about when “Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart will fall in love.” And, of course, he hasn’t stopped talking about your Saturday afternoon diner date, constantly badgering Eddie about whether or not you two were married yet.

Eddie rests his head on your shoulder, curly tendrils tickling your collarbones. All you want is to let him stay there as long as he needs, even if your legs fall asleep, but the nagging thoughts of passersby’s perceptions triumph over your desires. 

“Eddie, I…” you trail off, gently lifting your shoulder so he’ll get the hint without you having to say it aloud. Self-consciousness pinkens his cheeks as he sits up, adjusting his posture and mumbling a soft “sorry” under his breath.

“S’fine,” you rush to reassure him, praying that he doesn’t misconstrue your professionalism with shame of being seen with him. You would comfort any of your students’ parents in times of distress, but let’s face it–you would never snuggle up to Jason Carver or Carol Perkins. “Just don’t wanna be accused of canoodling on the job,” 

He lifts his eyebrows. “Canoodling?”

“It’s a word!”

“You’re the one with the fancy college degree, so I guess I gotta believe you.” 

You giggle softly, brushing his Reeboks with your flats. “Seriously, it’s gonna be okay. Whatever happens, I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. The words replay like an enchanting melody. You’ve got him. You’ve got him, and you’ll have him as long as he vows to hold on.

“Mr. Munson?” 

Eddie’s attention snaps to Ms. Cassie, the school psychologist. Harris darts from her office, a giant smile on his face as he leaps into his father’s arms. “Daddy, we played games! It was lotsa fun!”

“That’s great, Har Bear,” Eddie murmurs into Harris’s scalp. He looks up at Ms. Cassie expectantly. “How did everything go?” Is my son okay? Is there something wrong with him? Is it my fault? He doesn’t dare pose those questions.

The psychologist offers a smile, lacing her fingers together in front of her stomach. “Like Harris said, we had a great time. I’d like to speak with you briefly…” her gaze flits over to the hallway. “Is there someone who could keep an eye on Harris while we talk?”

Eddie’s heart sinks; privately, perhaps naively, he’d been wishing that there wouldn’t be anything else to discuss. Maybe a chipper, everything’s fine; he’ll catch up to the other kids on his own! But nothing so serious that it required an additional meeting.

“My TA can,” you pipe up, remembering that Will had stayed back to prepare an art project for tomorrow morning. Eddie puts Harris down, watching as you take his chubby hand in yours and make your way to your classroom. 

Ms. Cassie starts to wave Eddie into his office, but he shakes his head. “Wanna wait for her to get back,” he tells her, and she nods understandingly. As soon as you return, the two of you take a seat in front of her desk. Paperwork is stacked neatly in piles across the top of it, and framed diplomas line the walls. Board games sit on the shelves, and Eddie can’t help but wonder which ones Harris played this afternoon.

“I want to start off by saying that Harris is one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with,” Ms. Cassie says. Her tone is even and patient, which makes Eddie more anxious. He wants to jump up and demand that she spill the bad news already, but he bites his thumbnail to calm his nerves. You notice the gesture immediately and inconspicuously grab the hand closest to yours, hiding your display of affection below the desk. Eddie grips so tightly that you have to actively suppress a grimace.

“The evaluation indicates that Harris meets the requirements to be classified as a ‘preschooler with a disability,’” she continues, “and as a result, he qualifies for special education services–”

“What the hell does that mean?” You wince at the vitriol in Eddie’s voice, and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand. It brings him back down enough for him to clear his throat and apologize, but you can sense that he’s still on-edge.

“That’s alright, Mr. Munson. You’re not the first parent to react that way, and I’m positive you won’t be the last.” She taps a small pile of papers on her desk to even them out before handing them to him. “The classification means that he will get an Individualized Education Program–IEP for short–that will help us target goals for Harris to make progress alongside his peers.”

Ms. Cassie drones on about short-term and long-term objectives, but Eddie can’t focus on what she’s saying. Preschooler with a disability. My son has a disability because I left, because I wasn’t there, because I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. It’s all my fault. My fault my fault my fault–

“Eddie,” you whisper, but it’s no use. You watch as his ribcage expands and contracts faster with manic breaths, on the verge of hyperventilation. You shoot the psychologist an apologetic glance and pull Eddie from the office before he can launch into a full-blown panic attack. His body is like a ragdoll, and he trails behind you mechanically; if you let go of his hand, he’d probably stop dead in his tracks.

“Baby,” you say, bringing him to an empty classroom. The nickname rolls off your tongue easily despite technically being in your place of work. “Baby, it’s just you and me right now. You’re okay–”

“Harris–disability–my fault.” His words are low and gravelly, but you hear them without having to strain. They’re similar to the sentiments he’d uttered that day at parent-teacher conferences when he’d unexpectedly showed up at your door.

There’s no use trying to convince him otherwise, not when he’s like this, so you try a different approach. “I can talk to Ms. Cassie about rescheduling the meeting. We don’t have to figure everything out right away.” He nods, just a miniscule bob of his head, but it tells you that he’s cognizant enough to comprehend what you’re telling him. “In the meantime, why don’t you go see Harris? I bet he’s drawing something for you.”

That gets a smile out of him. “Y-Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t move; instead, he brings you closer to him and holds you to his chest so close that you can hear his heart beating. His body shakes, but it’s not until you feel a warm teardrop fall from his face onto the top of your head that you realize he’s crying. You wrap your arms around his lithe waist until you feel him begin to steady, staggered breaths becoming fuller. 

Wiping the tear trails from his cheeks carefully, you press a tiny kiss to his nose. “Wash your face and go to my classroom. I’ll meet you there.”

“‘Kay,” he manages, wishing he had the means to express his gratitude for your words, your presence, you. 

When he gets to your classroom, Harris is furiously scribbling on a piece of construction paper with his new markers. Eddie smiles, leaning against the door until Will spots him.

“Harris, your dad’s here!” he announces, and Harris looks up excitedly.

“Daddy!” he exclaims. “I’m almost done with my picture, hold on!” He grabs a blue marker and uncaps it, marking the paper with concentrated dots. He replaces the cover and slides the marker back into the yellow-and-green box. 

He’s always so diligent with his art supplies, Eddie notes.

“Ta-da!” Harris spins the drawing so his dad can see. There’s three people–you, Eddie, and Harris. You’re standing around a large purple rectangle with a line coming out of each corner, which Eddie recognizes as a table. There’s a circle representing the plate of chicken fingers in front of Drawing Harris, and a circle between Drawing You and Drawing Eddie with blueberry pancakes. Just like on Halloween, he’s drawn a smile on everyone’s faces.

“He’s really good,” Will says, and Eddie looks at him in amusement. “Seriously, he is. He’s got great spatial awareness when he draws, which most kids don’t develop until later. And he’s got an eye for detail,” he adds, pointing to the blue dots on the pancakes. “Looks like you’ve got a little artist.”

An artist. Not a failure, not incapable, but an artist. A boy who could grow up and inspire the world with his creativity.

“I love it,” Eddie says finally, reaching out to take the drawing. He frowns when Harris snatches it back.

“This one is for Ms. Sweetheart,” he explains exasperatedly, as though this is something he’s had to repeat multiple times. “We already have one at home, Daddy. Renember?” His pout quickly becomes a grin when he sees you enter the room. “Ms. Sweetheart, I drawed this for you!”

“I love it!” You inadvertently echo Eddie’s statement as you hold the paper to your heart. “This is gonna go on the kitchen wall so you can see it when you come over for tutoring.” You turn to Eddie, eyes warm with understanding. “How are you feeling?”

“I dunno,” he answers honestly. “Kinda sad, kinda mad, kinda relieved that there’s an answer.” He scratches at the stubble on his cheeks. “‘M just…really glad I don’t have to go through it alone.”

“I’m always here for you, Eds. You and Harris.”

Eddie’s curls bob up and down as he slowly nods. “Speaking of which, um, you said something about tutoring him? Are you feeling up to it? I can bring pizza—o-or not, if it makes you sad. We could do Chinese or something—”

“Eddie?”

“Ya?”

You look down at the drawing of your little chosen family at Benny’s. It’s certainly different from the times you went with Grandma, but you’re filled with the same feeling of belonging that you’d felt then.

“Extra olives for me, please.”

--

taglist:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[idiswhadidis]

-- spa night

bf jungwon x fem. reader

sypnosis: Jungwon agreed to have a spa night.

genre: fluff - warnings: a makeout session

a/n. i'm surprised by myself of how fast i wrote this, i think it took me about an hour a record when i tell ya. anyways i got to this idea when i, myself had a spa night lol, hope you enjoy (:

how could this escalate? you both just watched something on TV and now you‘re having out of nowhere a „spa night“.

boy knows he‘s a fool for you but he forgot that you got him wrapped around your finger that he actually agreed to this.

looking into the mirror trying not to laugh at himself smacking his arm,

„stop laughing would you, or the face mask will fall off“ 

„says the one who’s laughing in my face since 5 minutes straight“

him staring at his reflection seeing the unicorn headband not letting hair into his face and the face mask which represents a panda making you cackle again, trying to control yourself you take a deep breath

„…you look gorgeous, now lemme put these on your eyes“ you smile wiggling the two slices of cucumber in your hand, him grabbing both of your wrist to stop you

„you‘re not gonna put cucumbers on my eyes“

„yes i will“ you smile at him with the most innocent eyes his weak point

sighing in deafeat and letting go of your wrists having the green light to do whatever you wanna do to him

putting the two slices on his eyes wondering how they don‘t fall off? 

„and is it relaxing?“ 

„oh yeah, never felt anything more relaxing in my life“

„good cause now your lips will be next“ completely ignoring his sarcasm.

„the hell? don‘t tell me lip masks exist?“

hearing ripping of a package his question just got answered..

„close your mouth so i can put it on“

but not before leaving a small peck on his lips letting him grave for more as he try’s to follow your lips

putting quickly the lip mask on, bursting into laughter making him groan

„Jungwon i‘m sorry but this is too funny you should see yourself“

taking your phone you take a photo, not so good is you have the sound on letting him now you took a photo <3

him grabbing the cucumbers of his eyes glaring at you while you smile sheepishly at him taking few steps backwards 

looking at his own reflection real quick shaking his head trying to not to laugh as well pulling of the lip mask but still keeping the panda mask on?

„i think it‘s your time to do your so called „spa night“ 

shaking your head, janking the door handle down and dashing away 

hearing fast footsteps behind you making you walk faster around the couch, him on the other side staring at you like a predator

„it‘s only fair to let me do it now“

shaking your head „i‘m fine thank you“

narrowing his eyes at you and climbing over the couch too fast that you can‘t run away on time

catching you in his arms and throwing you onto the couch, legs on each side of your body your arms held by him completly trapped

looking at him got you giggling again making him smile when he suddenly starts,

„you know, i‘m so in love with you i would let you do anything with me as you can see“ 

making you melt, looking into his love-strucked eyes 

grabbing his neck bringing his face closer to yours whispering against his lips „i will always love you more“

crashing his lips on yours, hand on your waist going underneath your top gasping from his cold hand on your skin letting him stuck his tongue into your mouth.

catching your breaths after awhile, staring at him and taking the mask off reminding him why you‘re in this situation, him standing up letting him sit you up and throwing you over his shoulder,

„hey!“

„i‘m not gonna let this night go by until i got my revenge“ him patting your bum while walking into the bathroom to continue where you left off but now it was your turn to "suffer".

idiswhadisis on tumblr. do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works.

#enhypen #enha #enhypen ff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen story #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #yang jungwon #jungwon #jungwon x y/n #jungwon x reader #jungwon scenarios #jungwon imagines #jungwon fanfic #jungwon fluff #enhypen fluff #heeseung imagines #jay imagines #jake imagines #sunghoon imagines #sunoo imagines #niki imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop story

[taylormarieee]

Day 2: BlowJob

Kinktober

Summary: You decided to give Shane a taste of his own medicine after leaving you all hot and bothered at Alexandria's Famous Cookout.

Word Count:920

Pairing: Shane Walsh x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dick sucking aka Blowjob, Sub!Shane, Dom!reader, reader getting revenge, shane being a slight dick, whimpering, pet names, Public sex a lil, almost getting caught, MDNI 18+ONLY.

Shane was always a tease and there's no denying that. So when this morning you woke up excited to get ready for a cookout and wore your pretty little sundress, what you didn't expect was for Shane to give you head right on the bathroom counter.

He is such a tease to the point where he didn't allow you to cum. You whined and begged him the whole walk tot he cookout but he just chuckled and ignored you.

When you guys arrive at the cookout and you have to remove the attitude from your face as Rick walks up to the both of you.

"Hey! Glad you could make it. Ahbraham and Daryl have already started on the grill, and Me and a couple others are playing cards, wanna join?" Rick asks.

You politely decline walking away to go look for Maggie and Shane agrees and walks to the table.

"Hey darlin! How are you hun!" Maggie greets with a warm smile.

You frown. "Not so good, Shane is being a dick again." You say glaring daggers at the man in front of you.

Maggie's eyes widen and she chuckles a bit. She puts a hand on your shoulder and whispers in your ear, "Go make him pay tiger." She says winking at you as she walks away.

You smirk, coming up with a mischievous idea. You were going to give Shane a taste of your own medicine.

You walk over to an extra empty table that Rick set up because Shane broke the table in anger from losing. That man really needed to control his temper.

You got on your knees under the table and hid behind the cloth waiting for everyone to sit down.

You looked for Shane's boots and once your target was aquired, you went straight to him.

You ran your hands up his leg causing him to jump. He soon looks down and realizes it's you with a devious smirk on your face. You go for his belt buckle and he whispers something to you.

"What are ya doin hun?!" He whispers and yells. You just smile and reach for his boxers to pull out his achingly hard cock.

Your mouth starts to water at the sight. You start stroking and twisting your hands in ways that you know will make him groan and moan.

He covers his moans by coughing and replacing them for 'hiccups' to fool anyone who noticed.

Maggie stands off in the corner noticing his weird behaviour and she chuckles to herself saying, "That's my girl." She smiles.

You kiss the tip, precum staining your pretty lips. You give him slow but sweet kitten licks and Shane fights the urge not to groan and shoot his head back.

He instead throws his hand on the table causing a loud boom sound. Everyone stops to look at Shane.

"Sorry, bad cards!" He says trying to laugh it off. "Oh come on man, you're ruining the game for yourself!" Glenn says laughing.

"Oh trust me, I've seen Shane play, sometimes this is his tactic. To make you think he's losing but he's not." Rick says chuckling.

"Tha's true, he dun beat me a couple times back in Atlanta." Daryl says with a smirk.

They boys continue. in their conversation, drinking their beers as you swallow all of him. He stifles out a moan at the feeling of your warm mouth around him.

He thrusts his hips up whining and begging for more in a whispered tone.

"Please baby, please lemme cum. I'm sorry for this mornin but please!" He whisper-yells.

You shake your head as an approval to let him cum down your throat. You bob your head up and down faster, using your hands for whatever you can't fit inside your mouth.

He grips your hair tighter than before. You gag on his cock and he groans at the feeling of your throat contracting around him.

Rik goes down to itch his foot and Shane's eyes widen. He tries to hurry up and tell you to get off of him but you only suck harder causing him to moan just a tad bit too loud. Luckily not grabbing anyone's attention.

You fondle and play with his balls. He grips your scalp harder, the feeling burning your scalp but you don't care. You want him to be close to cumming but leave him all sweaty, hot and bothered like you were.

You slide off of him with a 'pop' and squeeze his tip. His tip is hot and red and oozing with precum. While your enjoying the view down there, Shane is enjoying the pleasure right there.

You decide to have mercy and let him cum. You suck him again and hollow your cheeks. He lets out one last final groan before thrusting up into your mouth shoving your head all the way to his pelvis as he cums down your throat.

He shoots his load down your throat, the feeling of his hot sperm sliding down your throat makes your eyes roll back. You moan around him and he twitches inside you at the sensitivity.

You swallow all his cum and kiss his tip. He is breathing heavily and you stuff his length back in his pants and zip up his jeans. You try and sneak from under the table and go towards Maggie licking your lips.

You turn and give one last look to Shane knowing he's going to fuck you so hard later and that's exactly what you want.

Taglist: @sinsandsweetness @murdadixon @loveforcarl @carlgrimesenthusiast @catt-leya @carlsdarling @number1gal @daryldixmedown @darylscvmdumpster @dixongrimesgirl @rickswh0r3 @tied-in-a-knot @eternalrose81 @xowritella @iamacowboi

#the walking dead #shane walsh #shane walsh smut #Sahne Walsh x reader #twd fanfiction

[featherandferns]

pirates (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | shamelessly and obviously inspired by taylor swift's 'seven'

content warning: mentions of abuse

word count: 9k. roughly

Blurb: if you ever needed to find yourself or jj maybank, one would recommend you head to pirate's cove, no matter the age or day.

The water was tepid. There was some lingering woodsy fragrance, probably from the cedar trees that towered high all around the waterside, alongside something undeniably fresh in the air. JJ waded in the murky water. The ground was warm with sunlight that flitted through the canopy of trees. As it illuminated the leaves, there was a strange greenish hue that overcame everything. The water plants and reeds only added to it, making the place feel peaceful and serene. In one hand he held a net, and another a bucket. JJ was searching for frogs. His father had told him it was season for them and JJ had taken that as his summer-break mission.

There was a ripple in the water and something that wasn’t short of a ‘splash’, and JJ spun around in time to see a frog leap from the water and onto a moss-covered rock. He grinned.

“Got ya,” he muttered to himself.

Slowly, carefully, he approached. Net at the ready, he continued to ease towards it. ‘Slowly now, JJ’, he told himself. ‘Slowly’.

A sudden scream ripped through the trees.

The frog leaped away for safety and JJ, in the fright of it all, stumbled backwards and tumbled into the water. It came up to his shoulders, his tiny body almost fully submerged, and he swore out like he had heard his father do. Somehow, it made him feel slightly better. Before he could get to his feet, the scream came again. It sounded high, but there was no telling if it was girl or boy. It was probably somebody playing around. He rolled his eyes, frog now gone, and got to his feet. Just as he went to get back to frog spotting, he heard it again. Only, this time:

“Help!”

His head spun around to where it came from. That didn’t sound like no joking. He waded out the water as quick as he could, feeling as if it were pulling at his legs to keep him from land. Managing onto dry ground, he looked around through the thick forestry for where it came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled to himself. His little legs were a little scratched up from the rocks and dirt he’d fallen on in the water. As the air got to the tiny cuts, making them sting.

The scream came again, this time louder and more panicked. JJ started off in the direction of it, ditching his bucket but holding onto his net. He raced towards the sound, perfecting his course with each one that came, until he stopped at a bank.

There stood a girl on a mud bank.

You couldn’t have been older than seven. You were surrounded by marsh water. Hair falling around your shoulders as if the sea had churned you up and spat you out. Your cheeks were wet and eyes wide, focused on something below in the water.

JJ squinted as he tried to focus. Driftwood?

The wood shifted closer to the bank and you opened your mouth in a screech.

“Gator,” JJ said.

Your head darted up at the sound. You locked eyes with JJ. More tears came.

“Help me!” you cried. “Please!”

JJ looked around. Where was his dad? Wasn’t there somebody else here? Could nobody else hear you hollering like someone being murdered out in daylight?

“It’s getting closer!” you wailed. JJ watched the gator slowly slink towards you, as if taunting.

“Okay, okay,” he said, nodding. “Lemme think, alright? You’re gonna be fine.”

“Hurry,” you continued to sob.

JJ’s young mind was racing. He thought back to his mother’s lessons when they were sat out in the sun the other week. Snakes don’t like dogs and gators don’t like noise? Was that it? He looked down at the net in his hand. It was a long stick, at least half his height. If he were to disturb the water and yell, maybe it’d change course? That’d give you enough time, perhaps?

“Alright,” he said, voice trembling. He looked to you again and, as if you could feel his gaze, you looked up from the gator. Clearing his throat, he tried to make his tone more demanding like his pops. “Alright, here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna try and distract him over here, and you’re gonna make a run for this here bank.”

“What?” you gaped. “I…I can’t do that!”

“You gotta! Run as fast as you can, alright! Keep running that way, back to the houses,” JJ instructed, pointing to his right. Your lip trembled. “You can do it, alright? I’m gonna be right behind ya.”

You stared at him. Looking back down at the gator, you seemed to consider his plan. Then, meeting his eyes again, you pursed your lips, sniffled, and nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” JJ said, nodding himself. He swallowed his fear, squared his shoulders, and moved to the left of the bank. Grabbing another large branch, struggling only slightly with the weight, he took a deep breath. Then, splashing the water as hard as he could, he began to yell. “Come here gator! Come on!”

The moment the gator turned; you took off running. Your small body met the water and you started to swim as fast you could. JJ hit the water harder now, yelling louder.

“Come on gator boy! Come on!”

The frantic splashes of your front stroke seemed to catch the gator’s attention more so. You weren't looking behind you, eyes focused on the land.

“Come on! Come for me!” JJ practically pleaded.

The gator stayed still a moment. Then, slowly, began to sulk towards JJ.

His victory and smile were only brief, as his prepubescent brain caught onto the fact that a gator was making way to him.

Glancing to you, he saw you crawling onto the land, coughing and panting. You began to race towards the houses, just as JJ has instructed. Following suite, he ditched his net and branch and took off after you.

“Keep going!” he hollered. “Keep going!”

The pair of you ran and ran and ran. You ran until you were out of the marsh, out the of the clearing of the trees, and out onto the main street of the neighbourhood you were in. You finally stumbled to a slow, and eventually a stop. JJ copied. The two of you hunched over, panting heavily, hands on knees.

“Oh my God,” you whispered to yourself.

JJ felt as if he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. It certainly didn’t help when you flung yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Thank you!” you cried.

It took a moment for him to react. Then, he wrapped his scrawny arms around your frame.

“Hey, hey,” he coaxed, rubbing your back like his mom did with him when he was poorly. “You’re alright now.”

You nodded against him but continued to cry, nonetheless.

“I thought I was dinner for a second,” you laughed sadly. JJ chuckled too.

“You scared off my frogs,” he told you. You laughed harder, untangling yourself from him.

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your cheeks.

“What were you doing on that bank, anyway?” JJ asked.

You looked down at her feet nervously, almost embarrassed.

“There was this real pretty butterfly on there and…I just wanted a closer look.”

“Don’t nobody tell you that’s gator land?” JJ said. You looked back up to him and shook your head.

“No! I just…I wasn’t thinking!” you replied, becoming tearful again.

JJ reeled himself in.

“It’s alright,” he said. “It gets confusing out there.”

You smiled tentatively and nodded. Sniffling once more, you stuck out a hand and introduced yourself.

JJ took it and gave it a shake like he’d seen adults do at school and his daddy’s work. “JJ.”

“Nice to meet you, JJ.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

You both stood a moment and smiled at one another. “I’m sorry about your net.”

“It’s alright. Had it for ages.”

“I can get you a new one,” you told him. Then, as if a light bulb had gone off, you said, “I have a spare one I think!”

JJ hesitated. His mom had told him not to be greedy of people. ‘We don’t take charity, JJ.’

“You don’t have to,” he hesitated.

You shook your head firmly and took one of his hands in yours. You began to drag him as you set off walking down the road.

“Yes, I do. You saved my life, after all.”

JJ couldn’t really argue with that logic. Hand in hand, the two of you walked to your house. As you went, you asked about the frogs. JJ told you as much as he could remember reading. There was a picture book in school about them with a few easy-to-read facts put here and there. It was far more interesting than the maths the teacher had been going on about, so he’d read it under his desk. You nodded along and listened fervently. At some part on the walk, you'd started playing frogs. Ribbiting and hopping around, even playing leapfrog. Eventually, you came to your house.

JJ paused as you started walking up to it. When you noticed he was no longer by your side, you turned around.

“What?” you asked.

“It’s just…I live just down the road there,” JJ said, pointing. “Near the water.”

Your smile came back, wide and pure. “No way!”

He smiled back. “Yeah!”

You raced over and grabbed his hand, pulling him around the back, to the shed.

“We’re gonna be best friends!” you cheered, making JJ laugh.

He didn’t hate the sound of that. Making friends at school hadn’t been all that successful. There was only one boy who he truly got on well with, and he was called John B. JJ wasn’t sure why his name was John B, but then again he wasn’t completely sure why everyone called him JJ. He liked your name. It was different, a bit like you.

You came to the shed and pulled it open. Going through the tools and such, you dug about until you found a spare net buried amongst spider webs near the back.

“I knew it!” you triumphed, holding it up. Walking over to JJ who stood out in the late afternoon sun in her garden, you stopped before him. “Kneel.”

JJ did as demanded.

Tapping him on each shoulder, you announced with a laugh, “I now pronounce you sir knight JJ…Uh, what’s your last name?”

“Maybank.”

“Sir knight JJ Maybank!” you said, loud and proud.

JJ giggled as he got to his feet, giving a bow. He then began to wave like he’d seen the English queen do on TV once. You began to applaud and cheer, pretending to bow to him like he was Jesus walking into town on palm Sunday.

Someone called your name. "Is that you?” a voice called from the house.

The pair of you turned to see a woman stood on the patio, using her hand to keep the sun from her eyes.

“Yeah, ma!”

“Come on in! Dinner’s nearly ready!” She called.

You nodded and looked to JJ. You handed him the net.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, I don’t think,” JJ replied.

“Want to play pirates?”

“Sure,” he said, not fully sure what pirates involved but very interested, nonetheless. Maybe he could see if John B was free too. The three of you might make good ruffians.

“Okay,” you grinned. You flung your arms around his neck again before racing towards your house. As you went, you called out your farewell to him.

“Smell you later, Maybank.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The creek had quickly become the usual haunt of JJ and yourself. It was a little bit from the waters near his house, more secluded by forestry, though not as much as the marsh. You still got twitchy about going in there after the alligator incident. JJ couldn’t really blame you. The thing would’ve eaten you in one bite.

You'd found a small nook of fresh water, deep enough to swim. There was a rope swing tethered to a branch which made your secret spot feel only slightly spoiled, under the notion that someone else had gotten there first. Never the matter, every time you went, it was empty. Your whoops and hollers, and the narrative of whatever make-believe game you had come up to play, filled the air. It probably carried through to JJ’s house, which was nearest the spot that only JJ and you knew.

“Ahoy!” you growled, jumping out from behind a bush. “Gimme your gold and nobody gets hurt.”

“If I’m getting hurt then there’s gonna be two funerals!” JJ returned loudly as he unsheathed his sword.

You advanced forward with yours, already posed for fight. JJ slashed in return and the two of you heard the clink of metal hitting metal. You swung and sparred, dancing around the bank of the water. Bare feet treaded over pine needles and rotting, fallen leaves, damp from the water from when the rain pushed the level to rise yesterday.

Gasping, you ducked to avoid a deadly swing of JJ’s sword to your head.

“You’re gonna regret that, matey!” you threatened, and with that, drove him into the water. Before you could break free, JJ was pulling you in with him, and the two of you became submerged.

The water was cold. The continuous flow of it meant there was no time for the sun to heat it, least of all through the leaves above them. There was only one break in the trees where you could see the blue sky fully. You broke to the surface first, then JJ. The two of you were grinning as they clambered to your feet. The water came up to your waists, though only to your parent’s middle thighs most probably. Not that your parents knew their spot. This was sacred ground. When you'd found it, you had demanded that JJ keep it a secret.

“Cross your heart, won’t tell no other,” you'd said. JJ did as you asked and you grinned that same carefree grin as you copied. JJ was still warming up to ask youif John B could join. As the summer had gone on, he’d become closer and closer to Big John’s successor.

“You’ll never find me gold!” JJ announced, holding his sword above his head with one arm. “It dies with me!”

“As will I!” you countered loudly.

Another battle, bloodier than ever, and JJ ended up on his back on the wet bank, dripping from head to toe. His t-shirt was drenched, sticking to his sun-kissed skin, and you stood over him in your sopping blue summer dress. Your skin sparkled with the sheen of the water under the sunlight. It was as if the heavens were blessing you.

Your sword’s tip met his chin, driving his head backwards and up.

“Any last words, Maybank? Your crew is nowhere in sight,” you snarled.

JJ grinned. “Kiss my ass.”

You couldn’t help but gasp out a laugh. Taking advantage, JJ batted the sword off of him and drove his into your chest in one fluid motion. You stumbled backwards with another gasp, this time more dramatic. Holding the handle of the sword, you gently pulled it from her chest.

“You’ll rue this day,” you warned weakly.

Then, you tumbled backwards into the water to meet your untimely demise.

A hand searched for your arm and wrapped around your bicep, pulling you up to sit.

“What does ‘rue’ mean?” JJ asked you.

You sat in the water.

“I don’t know,” youreplied. “I just heard them say it in a movie once.”

“Hm,” JJ thought.

He sat himself beside you. You were no longer pirates battling over treasure. Instead, you were best friends for the summer. At that age, of seven-turning-eight, friendships come fast and easy. All what matters is if you’re any good at gallivanting and sword fighting, or running secret missions against the Russians and English, or racing from one house to another. Not what clothes you wear or how much money you have, or if you’re a kook or a pogue.

“I should probably go home soon,” JJ said. The sun was getting crisper, more orange, warning of dusk.

“You could stay for dinner at our house if you like,” you offered.

JJ thought it over. “I’d have to ask my parents.”

“Okay. I can come with you, if you like.”

“That’s alright,” JJ said. He got to his feet and you got to yours. “Come on.”

The two of you made their way out of the hiding spot and back into real life. A slight shiver had begun to run up your back now that you weren’t racing around in battle. It was a chillier night. You came to JJ’s house first. He hesitated as he looked up at the door. There was a faint ruckus coming from inside. You stood beside him and stared up. He’d been in your house plenty of times, but you’d never been in his. Come to think, you'd never met his parents.

“You gonna ask?” you wondered.

JJ didn’t look at you as he nodded. His eyes remained focused on the door.

“Yeah. Just…wait here a moment,” he said quietly.

JJ approached the house and made his way up the porch steps slowly, then opened the shutter. To the back door he went. He took a breath before pushing it open and walked into his home.

You stood in the garden and waited.

The ruckus was getting louder and it began to sound like voices, shouting. A woman and a man. There was the sound of something being shoved, maybe a table, and then a loud smash of a plate. You gasped and felt your heart begin to pick up. This wasn’t the same sort of heartbeat as when you were battling JJ on the water banks. This was true fear. The type you'd felt when you were face to face with the gator. It only seemed to speed up the louder the hollering got.

“Leave her alone!” you heard JJ’s young voice yell.

A crisp, clean noise echoed in your ears.

Skin hitting skin.

JJ’s unmistakeable screech.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking flight. You raced to your house, up the street.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was the sound of something tapping. It wasn’t a regular tapping, like a leaky drain dripping outside. It came and went for ages, then again, maybe louder or quieter. You groaned and tucked your head under her duvet, hoping it would pass. It wouldn’t. You tossed your sheet off and flicked on your lamp. Staring to the window, you waited for it to come again. For a long while, it didn’t. Then: clink.

“Are you joking me?” you mumbled sleepily, getting up. You trudged to the window and pulled up your blind. It was dark outside. The sound of crickets and a distant owl hooting was the only sound you were met with when you pushed the window up and open. Looking around, there was nothing save for your back garden.

“Psst!”

You frowned and looked down. There stood JJ. He was in his pyjamas, barefoot.

“JJ?”

He replied with your name as if checking, nervous. You heard him sniffle.

“What are you doing? It’s really late,” you yawned, rubbing your eyes to help them adjust.

JJ rubbed his arm.

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, trying to keep your voice to a whisper. JJ looked up at you again and now, with your eyes adjusted, you could make out tear streaks.

“Can I sleep over, do you think?”

Glancing briefly to your bedroom door, you wondered what your parents might say. They liked JJ for the most part. He was polite when he came around. They knew he made a good friend for their daughter. Besides, it was the summer break. Why couldn’t you have a sleepover? You looked back down to him and nodded.

“Can you climb up?”

You lived in a lodge, the same as most of the people on the cut. It was elevated from the ground by a meter or more. JJ nervously eyed up the wall before shaking his head.

“Do you have a rope or something?”

You turned around and searched your room. You could tie together your bedsheets and blankets, like they did in the movies. No, that wouldn’t work.

“Ah,” you said.

You spotted a skipping rope hung up on the back of your bedroom door. Grabbing it, you came back to the window and lowered it down. JJ wasn’t particularly large. You were the same height and nearly the same weight. His shoulders were a little broader and his legs a little longer, but save for that, you were equals. You believed you might be able to tug him up.

“Grab on.”

JJ began to climb up the wall, using your rope to help. You struggled as you held it steady, managing his weight only just. He came to the windowsill and got a grip, clambering in. You helped him step down into your room. In the full light of your bedroom, you could make out his running tears. On his left cheek was a bright pink mark, almost the perfect shape of a hand.

“Oh JJ,” you mumbled.

That only seemed to make him cry more. You quickly wrapped her arms around him in a hug. It made you feel better to be hugged whenever you scraped your knee or fell off your bike. JJ hugged you back, crying into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he wailed, voice small and fragile like a fixed China plate.

“You don’t gotta be sorry,” you told him quietly.

When JJ had cried most of his tears, you pulled away and closed your window. JJ made his way to your bed, burying himself under the pink and orange duvet. He mumbled something about his head hurting. You closed the blinds, climbed in too, turning off your lamp. You tucked your white childhood bear, named August bear, under one arm.

You lay in silence for a moment. This was different to the other sleepover you'd been to. You'd only been to one, for a girl classmate’s birthday. The other girls and you had spent all night whispering, giggling about anything and everything. The birthday girl’s mom had shushed you several times. Here, all there could be to hear was JJ’s shaking breaths and occasionally sniffs.

“JJ?” you whispered. It was dark now and you couldn’t make out his face.

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah.”

“I think…I think your house is haunted,” you told him quietly.

JJ sniffed. “Why’s that?”

“Well, your dad’s always mad,” you explained in a hush. “I think something in there takes control of him and…the ghosts are messing with you all.”

JJ’s face was slowly coming into view. His pale skin and blue eyes. Thin lips, still trembling, and nose redden from crying. “You think so?”

“Mhm,” you said.

You found his hand under the blanket and clasped it tightly.

“I think you should come live with me and…and we can be pirates, and sleep at sea, out in the secret spot, and never have to answer to anyone ever again. We won’t have to go to school when summer ends. And you won’t have to hide anymore.”

“That sounds nice,” JJ yawned.

Contagiously, you yawned too. “Yeah. It does.”

Closing your eyes, you felt herself beginning to drift off once more. Your hand remained enclosed around JJ’s. A strong grip, tight like a bowline knot. Then, JJ whispered your name.

“Mhm?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, smelly,” you hummed.

~*~*~*~*~*

A tapping at the door came. Three rhythmic knocks. Your face lit up and you got up from the breakfast table to answer it.

“Coming!” you called. You'd grown a little over the last school year and didn’t need to go on your tiptoes no more to open the door. On the other side stood JJ, smiling.

"Morning smelly!"

“Morning,” he said. He walked into the now familiar house. Two years of friendship meant he had become a local in your household. “Did I miss breakfast?”

“Nope,” you said, walking to the table with him.

“Morning JJ,” your mom said. She plated him up two pancakes and handed him the syrup as he took the spare seat around the table.

“Morning,” JJ said politely. He was always polite to your parents.

Your dad sat to the left, saying a hi behind the paper. He came alive in the afternoons. Your mom rubbed her swollen belly. JJ had never seen a pregnant woman before. At first, he was worried an alien was growing inside of her. When he told you that, you nearly died with laughter. It wasn’t the greatest feeling to be on the receiving end.

“What’re you kids plans for the day, then?” your mom asked as she took her seat.

“We might go fishing,” JJ said, lathering his pancakes. “There’s some good spots near the marsh.”

“Not the marsh,” you said. Still afraid of the gators, even after two years.

JJ rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you gotta be careful of them gators,” he told you. He grinned as he lent over to steal a slice of bacon off your place. “They might bite!”

“Hey!” you complained, shoving him in the shoulder.

“Easy you two,” your mom chuckled. “What about John B? He coming with?”

“Maybe. We could go by his and ask,” JJ said to you. You nodded.

Your twosome became a threesome towards the end of the first summer. After playing pirates for the majority of your break, they had decided to invite John B to join. Your friendship with JJ was already set in stone (with him sleeping over almost every other night, though neither of you spoke about why), but considering you went to a different school to them both (a Catholic joint for girls only), your friendship with John B had mostly blossomed at the weekends or in the evenings after school like moonflower. Winter was filled playing games mostly inside, and spring in the grass largely. But now summer was back, school done with, and at the age of nine, there was little else more important than fishing, swimming and playing pretend in the wake.

The two of you polished off your breakfast and you finished getting dressed. Then, out you headed on your pushbikes. You stopped by John B’s, said hi to his dad, JJ stealing another slice of toast in the process, and then your trio went off to the jetty with the promise of being safe. John B had learnt how to drive his dad’s boat, so long as you stayed within a certain area, and JJ was becoming a natural fisher like his dad. You made yourself useful in anyway that you could. It seemed your blessing was swimming. You were strong in the water, could hold your breath the longest. You had taught JJ how to backflip off the jetty.

“I caught one!” JJ hollered. He tugged on the rod, struggling a moment. Reeling in a fish, he whooped loudly. It wasn’t exactly large but compared to the three nine-year-olds, anything was a marlin.

You did a little victory dance.

“Think we could have it for dinner?” John B wondered. His brown hair blew around in the summer breeze.

You pinched the still wiggling fish off the rod and dangled it in John B’s face. He cringed and scrambled away.

“Gross!”

You laughed like a mad man and then tossed it back in the water.

JJ whined. your name in complaint.

“What!? That thing wasn’t good enough to eat,” you said.

“I could’ve used it for bait,” JJ said.

“Oh,” you went meek. “Sorry.”

JJ kept his forlorn expression a moment longer as he got to his feet.

“You’re gonna be!”

With that, he pushed you in the water. You gave out a small squeal as you tumbled in. Before you hit the surface, you heard JJ’s mad laughter. An idea popped into your head. You broke to the surface, gasping for air and thrashing like you'd seen a guy do on TV.

“Help!” you gargled.

JJ panicked, leaning over and calling your name.

You kept your hands above you, splashing around. JJ tried to grab onto you. The moment you felt his hand in yours, a wicked grin came to your face, and you tugged him in too. When he came to the surface, you were cackling away, treading water comfortably as if going on a brisk jog.

“Hilarious,” he muttered, splashing at you. You splashed him back.

John B muttered something snidey about third-wheeling, and JJ and yourself shared a look. One nod then another, and the two pirates were hijacking the ship and pulling the third of their gang into the water too.

After swimming around for what felt like hours, the three of you clambered back into the small rowboat. Cheeks aching from laughter and chests heaving, you collapsed onto your backs. You grinned up at the sky. You wanted forever to feel this way. Lungs full, heart light, mind empty.

And hey - why couldn’t you?

~*~*~*~*~*

On his way back from school, JJ heard your laughter from your garden. He could recognise that sound anywhere. Walking over to your house, through to the back yard, he saw you sat on the porch steps. Your dad was sat with you, blowing bubbles in front of you both. The moment JJ came into sight, you were sitting up straighter, waving.

“I like your cap, smelly,” you said as he approached, nodding to his head.

JJ grinned and took it off. Placing it on your head, pushing down on the lip so it fell over your face, he said, “got it from my dad.”

“Nice,” you giggled, correcting it.

JJ smiled down at you. He was taller than you now, by a couple of inches.

It felt as though he had recently realised you were a girl. It sounded stupid, because JJ knew that you'd always been a girl, but when you were playing out it never seemed to matter. You were a good pirate nemesis and a decent fisher, and always up for a laugh. But in the latest school year, the girls had started whispering about the boys, nervously asking them to hold hands around the playground, playing kiss tag during lunch break. JJ and John B never got involved. They’d sit back and watch from a branch in a tree, talking about surfing. JJ was itching to try it out. His dad always raved about the waves.

You had nice hair though. Sun-stained skin and strawberry kissed lips. Your colourful eyes were squinting against the sun.

JJ stole back his cap and cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to distract his wandering thoughts.

“Wanna go get John B and head to the cove?” he wondered.

You turned and asked your dad. The answer was yes, so long as you were back before dark. With that, the two of you set off to John B’s place. JJ bumped your shoulder as you walked. You talked about school and your peers. Told stories about the fights that had broken out on the school yard. You complained about your school's mandatory summer dress's and the lack of good jello flavours in the canteen. JJ complained about only catching small fish and nothing big enough to fry.

When you went to retrieve John B, he complained that he was tired, and didn’t feel up to coming out. Walking to the pirates cove, JJ and you complained about John B not coming out to play when you hadn’t seen him in five days.

“He’s so lame,” you muttered, kicking a stone.

“What an asshole.”

“I don’t think he’s an asshole,” you said to JJ. “Sides, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

JJ shrugged. “My dad says it all the time.”

You eyed his side profile. “How are things, with your dad?”

JJ shoved his hands in his short pockets and shrugged again, watching his feet as you kept walking. “Fine.”

“He do anything lately? To you, I mean?”

He sniffed and looked the opposite way to you, at the houses. “What’s it matter?”

“Well…” You weren’t sure how to answer that. You sighed and conceded. “I guess it doesn’t.”

The rest of the walk to pirate cove was quiet. JJ felt badly and he wanted to apologise, though there wasn’t anything specific to apologise for. There was just a feeling itching at him that he’d upset you. As you came to the clearing which led to the cove, he stopped. You followed suit, watching him.

“Race?” he offered, giving you a small smile.

You grinned.

“Bring it.”

A countdown, feet poised and at the ready, and you were off. JJ stumbled over a tree root as he ran, making you laugh. You ran and ran until you got to the cove. There, panting, you had to accept defeat. JJ’s hand slapped the tree in victory.

“First!” he cheered.

You laughed.

“Best two out of three?” you wondered.

JJ eyed up where you stood, on the edge of the jump where the rope swing had been made. There was a small drop into the deeper part of the water. He grinned.

“Nah.”

Shoving you on the collarbones, you let out a screech as fell into the water. When you came to the surface, you were yelling all sorts of things at him. JJ knew you weren't really angry.

“Asshole!” you hollered.

JJ barked out a laugh.

“You said it!”

“Screw you!” you returned, making him laugh harder.

You swam to shore and unsheathed your sword. It was a little rusted from want of use, with school disrupting your battle. The older the two of you got, the more unnatural it was starting to feel to wield it. You raised it in threat of war. JJ raised a brow. Doing the same, he pulled out his own sword. Recently sharpened.

“You’re gonna regret that, Captain Maybank,” you said in a croaky voice.

“Argh,” JJ countered, advancing to you with his sword extended. “We’ll just have to see.”

The battle was bloody and brief. Though out of practise, you triumphed, with JJ dead on the dirt bank once more. Winning the fight, the map died with him, and thus the treasure. Upon realising this, you cried out a long, dramatic ‘noooo!’, dropping to your knees before falling flat on the dirt beside your defeated foe.

As you caught your breath, your smiles slowly fading, you watched the sky above. You'd fallen on the perfect spot where you could see it through the trees. Sun now lower, the days shorter thanks to fall, you sighed and folded your arms behind your head. JJ did the same.

“Hey. Can I ask you something?” JJ wondered.

“Yeah, course.”

“Have you had your first kiss yet?”

You kept watching the sky. A bird flew by, merely a dark spec.

“No,” you said. “I mean, I go to an all-girls school, remember? Not many guys to be kissing.”

“You could kiss a girl.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Not sure if I wanna. Kiss a girl, that is.”

JJ nodded against the floor. He sighed and watched the leaves rustle in the breeze. A few fell.

“Have you had your first kiss?”

“No,” JJ admitted. Somewhat bashful and somewhat proud, he told you, “this girl Becky wanted to kiss me.”

“She did?”

“Mhm. But I didn’t feel like it.”

That was a lie. Ten year-old JJ was nervous as hell. Scared, even. He’d laughed it off with John B, was perhaps a little mean to Becky in the process, but she didn’t ask again. That was on Tuesday.

“What do you think it’s like?” you wondered. “I mean, they do it all the time in the movies.”

“Not sure,” JJ frowned. “Maybe wet?”

“Ew,” you laughed, snorting. You sat up and dusted the pine needles and dirt off your wet arms. They were already drying off. You looked down at him. His grey t-shirt was stained with dirt and dust. The red cap on his head sat funny, having been shifted since he laid down.

“We could always kiss,” you said.

JJ’s eyes darted to you.

“We could?”

“Why not?” you shrugged. You fiddled your fingers. “You and John B are the only boys I know.”

“Then why don’t you kiss John B?” JJ asked you, sitting up too.

You shrugged, looking to the water. “Just…don’t wanna.”

JJ considered your offer. He took you in as you watched the creek. Slightly imperfect features, sun-kissed cheeks, faintly rosy from running and playing. He’d rather kiss you than anybody else.

“Okay,” he said. You turned your head to face him.

“Okay.”

The two of you nervously giggled, then shifted around awkwardly. Somehow, you both ended up on your knees, facing one another. You had your hands clenched in little fists on your thighs. JJ had his buried in his short pockets. You stared at one another for a long minute, then slowly, nervously, leaned towards each other. You closed your eyes and JJ supposed he should do the same. That’s what they did in the films, after all. A gap, a falter, and then your lips clumsily met. It wasn’t a quick peck like JJ saw the other kids doing at school during kiss-tag. It also wasn’t long or passionate, like in the films. It just sort of…was. You pulled away first.

JJ opened his eyes just before you opened yours. His face was bright pink. You snorted before laughing altogether. JJ couldn’t help but copy. The two of you fell into hysterics.

“That was it?” you howled.

“What the hell is all the fuss about?” JJ agreed with a guffaw.

Your laughter echoed off the trees and rocks, and encased you in a joyous, jovial bubble.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

There were no more pirates, at pirates’ cove. Now, instead, you, JJ and John B would sit around on the dirt bank and listen to music. You passed stories back and forth about school, with the JJ’s become more and more filthy, making you and John B groan through your laughs. You often wished you went to the same school as JJ and John B. Jealousy tickled at your throat whenever you thought of the two of them hanging out without you throughout the day. You knew JJ didn’t love school. As you neared the age of thirteen, he joked about skipping class more often. You also had this weird feeling that he still preferred it to being at home. Just two nights ago he had slept at your house again. He had red markings around his neck, as if his dad had tried to choke him. As always, you didn’t ask and he didn’t explain. You just held his hand and let him sleep. Snuck him breakfast in the morning and helped him climb out your window. He didn’t need the rope as much anymore, having had a growth spurt over the summer. It remained your shared secret. It was the only one you had from John B now. Neither of you had said about keeping it on the downlow– you just mutually decide it was best to.

JJ’s aforementioned growth spurt hadn’t gone unnoticed by you. As the three of you passed stories about the boat race that happened a couple of days ago, in the first week of summer break, you found your eyes drifting to JJ. To the way his arms moved as he talked, the beginnings of muscles building since he started getting more obsessive with gym. Around his neck is a shark tooth necklace that you’d given him as a feel-better gift, a couple days after his mom left, a year ago now. It sits against his toned, sun-kissed chest. The black button-up shirt he was wearing hung lose on his frame.

“Hey! You wanna stop ogling JJ and answer the question?” John B asked, tossing a grape at you to get your attention.

You rolled your eyes at him and flipped him the bird. “In your dreams am I ogling JJ, John B.”

“Think they’re more like his dreams but whatever,” John B muttered. To that, JJ flipped him off too.

“What was your question, then?” you asked.

“Wanna go hang out at the docks? See if there’s some odd jobs that need doing? We might be able to earn a couple of bucks or something,” John B said.

You shrugged. That actually didn’t sound half bad. So, finishing your soda, you nodded and got to your feet. “Let’s do it.”

“I’m telling you,” JJ began as he stood up, too. “This guy Heyward gave me a twenty just for helping wash down his boat the other day.”

“You’re full of shit,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

“I swear to God! A whole twenty!” JJ argued back loudly. His voice cracked in the process, making you and John B share a snigger. “Fuck off.”

“Oh, someone’s got their panties in a twist,” you whistled with a grin.

“You think I wear panties?” JJ asked you, raising a brow. The three of you had started walking by then, out of the marsh.

“I know it,” you quipped back.

JJ grinned boyishly and sprinted ahead, back facing you, before promptly mooning you and John B. You both groaned, shaking your heads at him as he broke into hysterics.

“You’re so gross, JJ,” you muttered, pretending to gag.

“Lucy don’t think so,” he cockily replied, falling back into step with the two of you.

“Lucy? That the flavour of the week, huh?” you teased.

JJ rolled his eyes, smirking. “She’s cute. She’s got this wonderful, enormous—”

He gestured graphically to his chest.

“-Personality.”

“You need help, JJ,” John B said in response, making you laugh.

It seemed the moment JJ had become an official teenager, he started thinking more with his dick than his head. Girls weren’t blind to him. He was a good-looking kid; funny and outgoing and rebellious. One of the girls in your friendship group at school had a crush on him, too. Had started asking you all about him: his favourite food and favourite music. Shamelessly, she wore a band tee-shirt of The Kooks (which hung so big on her, you suspected it was from her dad’s wardrobe) the next day when the two of you went to the boneyard to hang out. The older kids didn’t much like you guys there, but when there was enough of you, they seemed to tolerate it. You had stuffed down the joy you had gotten when seeing how JJ barely even glanced at her.  

The docks were rather quiet that day. Miss Amy nodded hello to the three of you as you walked down the jetty. JJ made a crude joke about her to John B, earning a shove in the shoulder as the former boy laughed. You petted one of the fishermen’s dogs as you passed another boat. Then, you were walking up near Heyward’s. There was a boy sat outside, reading a book.

“Yo. Heyward in?” JJ asked him.

The boy looked up. Dark skin and dark hair, eyes wide as if surprised someone was talking to him. “He had to head out for a bit.”

“Damnit,” JJ sighed, looking to you and John B.

“Why? What’d you need?” the guy asked.

“We’re just looking to see if we can make a couple bucks,” JJ told him.

John B clarifies what he meant by adding, “we helped him out with some groceries the other day.”

“Oh,” the guy nodded. “You guys from around here, too?”

“Sorta,” you replied. “We go to Kildare High.”

“Me too,” he smiled. You smiled back. He seemed like a nice guy. A little awkward and tense, but friendly, nonetheless. “I’m Pope.”

You introduced yourself, shaking his outstretched hand. John B did the same and JJ nodded at him, dropping his name last.

“There’s no groceries to run but the boat needs a clean,” Pope told you all, rising to his feet. “I was just gonna finish this chapter before doing it.”

“We’re down to help if you like,” John B said.

“How much for, like?”

“JJ!” You scolded.

He held his hands up. “What? Just asking! Not gonna do slave labour!”

“Ignore him,” you said to Pope. You looked to the jetty. “Which one’s yours?”

“This one,” Pope said, pointing. It’s painted white; a little well-loved but still in good nick. He put his book down after dog-earing the page. You couldn’t help but take a scan of the cover. The World Of Autopsies.

Following his lead, you grabbed at buckets and sponges. Pope unravelled the hose pipe and pulled it with him as you headed towards the boat. JJ messed with his cap, chatting to John B about fishing, and you fell in foot with Pope.

“What’s that book you’re reading?”

“It’s about autopsies,” Pope replied, sounding somewhat embarrassed as he looked at his feet.

“What? They didn’t have any copies of Jekyll and Hyde left?” you joked.

He smiled at that. “I wanna be a coroner, when I graduate high school.”

“Damn, you’re thinking about after high school? I don’t even think past after this year,” you chuckled.

“I don’t even think past after today!” JJ added loudly.

“You don’t have any reason to!” you called back snidely. He stuck his tongue out at you.

The three of you climbed aboard and got to cleaning. The conversation came naturally; cracking jokes and telling stories, getting to know Pope. Already, he was starting to feel like he was slotting quite comfortably into your strange little gang of pirates. JJ took the piss out of him rather a lot, but you knew that he liked him; could tell by the way he kept asking him questions and offering him help.

As you hosed down the deck, JJ scrubbed away at a stain on the flagpole. A wasp flew at you. Made you screech and dodge out of the way, sending the water stream messy. It hit JJ and drenched him in a second. He shouted out your name in a curse.

“Sorry!”

JJ rolled his eyes, finding his smile, and grabbed at the bucket of soapy water. You already knew what he was thinking. Laughing, you went to start running, but he was so fast (legs now so much longer than yours) and caught up easily, tipping the water on you. Screaming from the cold, you directed the hose pipe on him, aiming for his face. The two of you laughed, starting to wrestle as he battled for the hose, and you feel like pirates again, just as you were when you were seven.

Finally, easing up, the two of you broke apart. Your chest ached from laughing. JJ wiped his face and took off his soaked cap to brush back his hair. Then, his eyes fell on you.

Laughing, pointing at you, he said, “you’re looking way to hot right now.”

You looked down to see that the t-shirt you were wearing was now see-through from the wet, sticking to your bralette. Rolling your eyes mirthfully, trying to fight off the heat that was rushing to your cheeks, you messed with your top so it was no longer pasted to your skin.

“If you two are done flirting, I’ve got some drinks for you kids for your hard work,” a deep voice called.

You and JJ spun around to come face to face with Heyward. He was holding up a tray of plastic cups. The warmth in your face only got worse. JJ mumbled something along the lines of ‘we’re not flirting’ under his breath as the two of you dumb your stuff. Stepping off the boat, hose pipe now switched off, you, JJ, John B and Pope all enjoyed a drink, an unspoken, newly formed foursome.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

At sixteen came the year of experimenting. Alcohol and weed and cigarettes. A few classmates were now in relationships. First kisses were a thing of the past and instead gossip consisted of sex. Who did what? How far did they go? Conversations like that were made for JJ. Sat around at John B’s house, you sat next to the latest member of the group (Kiara), he’d divulge in dirty stories of debauchery which none of you asked for, but all would listen to, semi-curious. Especially the boys. John B was already leaning towards being a hopeless romantic. He’d revealed to you, one night, his crush on a certain Kook girl. You tried your best not to laugh him out of your room. There’s was no chance in hell anything like that could ever work out. Pope was less awkward with you guys now, but still useless with girls. Flirting was like a foreign tongue to him. Kiara didn’t seem all that interested in dating. You and she had never talked about crushes or guys.

“I swear man, this girl was going down on me like she was thirsty,” JJ grinned, smug and sure of himself.

You gagged into your drink, making Kie laugh.

“You’re so full of shit,” Pope told him.

“Dude, I’m telling you. Getting your dick sucked is like the best feeling in the world,” JJ gloated.

“Can we please talk about something else?” Kiara asked, rolling her eyes.

John B seemed happy to indulge. “So, my dad’s got a new trial he thinks with this gold—”

“Not about the gold!” the four of you chorused at him. John B shrunk back into his seat around the fire, taking a swig of his beer, wincing at the taste. None of you really liked it all that much, yet.

“Well, my parents are still leaning towards sending me to Kook Academy,” Kie said.

You frowned. “Really?”

“Mhm. I’ve managed to convince them to let me stay another year, but I think when I turn seventeen, it’s gonna happen.”

“Damn,” you said.

“Well, we’ll still, like, come hang out with you,” JJ told her.

“Gee, thanks, JJ,” Kiara sarcastically quipped at his luke-warm sentiment.

“Yeah. I’m sure your life is going to be lacking without JJ’s sex-stories,” you joked.

“Jealousy is a disease, babe. Get better,” he said to you, semi-bitter.

The conversation fell into talks about school and summer. Daydreaming for the endless days, when the sun rises at four and sets at midnight. Life feels infinite then, full of endless possibilities. Possibilities that you dote in, like how maybe JJ might snap out of dating this endless string of girls and look at you for once as more than a friend. You knew it was a pipe dream. After being his friend for so long, it seemed pathetic to think he might be able to picture you outside of that box. No matter. He was still your best friend.

“I gotta get going home,” Pope eventually said.

“Me too,” Kie agreed, getting up.

“You guys staying?” John B asked you and JJ.

You shook your head. “Sorry, Stinky. My parents asked for me back for midnight, so I’m already past curfew.”

John B smiled at the nickname. JJ was Smelly so it only seemed right for John B to be Stinky. Downing the last of your beer, you groaned and got to your feet. JJ stood up too.

“I better head as well before my old man gets ticked off,” JJ sighed.

The two of you share a look. You know it was bullshit; he was crashing at your place tonight, just like he did almost every night. The last fight him and his dad got in got bloody. JJ was strong enough to fight back now. He didn’t cry like he did when he was a kid. Just got angry. More times when he’d show up to your house after a row, he’d be seething, cussing his dad out and tugging at his hair. It scared you to see him collapse under the pressure like that. It seemed more and more like there was this tension lying under him. Part of it must’ve been inherited from his dad – his short-fused temper – but it seemed the happy-household he lived in only coaxed it out of him further.

“Ciao ciao,” JJ called as the two of you walked away from the chateau.

“Later Pogues,” John B hollered back.

“Pogues?” you mumbled, looking to JJ.

“Like Pogies? Scum-fish?”

“Ah,” you said, nodding.

“I like the sound of it,” JJ said.

You hummed your agreement. He fixed his cap. This one was green. He got it cheap from a thrift shop.

“Hey, smelly?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” you wondered.

“I feel like you’re going to anyway,” he chuckled.

“Is sex…Like, is it actually that good?” you asked. You want to look at him when you do, but you can’t seem to be able to hold his gaze. Found it easier to casually look at the ground ahead.

JJ shrugged; hands shoved in his short pockets. “Depends. Sometimes it’s better than other times.”

You nodded.

“Why?”

“Just wondering,” you mumbled.

The two of you don’t talk more about it. You walked back to your house in near silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or tense. Routine as always, you headed up the front door and quietly call out to your parents who are sat in the living room, watching television. You snuck past your younger brother’s door to his bedroom before walking into your own. Opening the window, you started taking off your jewellery at your dresser whilst he clambered through the window. He grabbed his toothbrush from your make-up brush pot, checked the cost of the corridor before darting into the bathroom. By the time he’s done, you were in your pyjamas and sat on the bed, scrolling through Instagram.

JJ borrowed your comb to start taming his hair. He’s stood in front of your mirror, in a pair of gym-style shorts that hang low on his waist. You do your best not to look at him, stood half-naked, abs on proud display. It feels wrong for you too.

“You haven’t had sex yet, right?”

You have to look up from your phone with that.

“What?”

“You haven’t slept with anyone yet, have you?” he repeated.

“Well…No, I guess not,” you mumbled.

JJ looked to you. “Why not?”

You laughed, trying your best to keep your voice down. “Nobody’s really into me like that.”

“Bullshit,” JJ immediately said.

“What?”

“Bull-shit! I know Matty P was asking you to the kegger just last week. That guy’s so horny for you – it’s obvious,” JJ replied.

You rolled your eyes and looked back down at your phone. “He’s also a sad loser who thinks owning a designer watch is an entire personality trait.”

JJ sniggered. “True.”

“I mean, everyone knows it’s fake,” you chuckled. It seemed to work, your distraction from the topic. You didn't think there would be anyway for you to subtly explain how you hadn't entertained the idea of someone else, in the hopes that one day, JJ might want you back.

You move to crawl under the bedsheets as JJ finished up on his hair. He took his spot and you yours, like always, and you flick off your lamp. There’s nothing but a single string of fairy lights keeping your room lit up. They hang above your bedroom door, batteries half-dead, only half-lit. Sighing, you turned off your phone and dumped it in on the bedside table. JJ got comfy, shifting around under the sheets. He smelt of cologne and smoke from the bonfire.

As he laid on his back, you laid on your side, facing the wall. You felt wide awake.

“You remember when we kissed?”

Wide wide awake.

“You mean back at Pirates’ Cove?”

“Yeah,” JJ said lowly into the darkness of the room.

“I mean, yeah. I remember it,” you replied. Silence. “Why?”

“Just thinking about it,” JJ mumbled. Frowning, you wondered what he could mean.

“In what way?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. You hear the rustle of the duvet as he turned onto his side. You weren’t sure if he was facing you or the other wall. “Just how that was the first time I sort of realised you were a girl.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. You moved the blanket to muffle the noise. Rolling over, you come to find he was facing you. There was barely enough space for Jesus to fit between you both. Maybe his arm, might?

“Flattering, smelly,” you mumbled. Both of you sported lazy smiles.

“You look so different now,” JJ told you.

“I should hope so. That was six years ago,” you replied.

“Shit. Was it that long ago?” he checked. You nodded. “So, we’ve been friends for…”

“Nine years,” you finished.

“Nine years,” JJ echoed.

There was a strange sadness to his voice, like time passed too quickly. He was so much older now. Youth still there but mellowed, from his dad and his mom and his life. One would think adult things like sex and drinking would make him more mature, but it just screamed out him being young. Wanting to experience everything the world can offer, as if he might drop dead tomorrow.

“You know the first time you slept here,” you began, “you were crying. It was after your dad hit you.”

“He’d been laying into my ma,” JJ said, filling in the blanks. “I tried to get him off her and he just went for me instead.”

“I told you something.”

“I know,” JJ smiled. “You told me my house was haunted.”

“I really thought it was,” you chuckled soberly. “And I really thought if we just moved to pirates’ cove, everything would be fixed.”

“I know,” JJ said. “I believed you. I…I remember thinking that it was one of the nicest things you’d ever said to me, when you did.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I think…”

He cut himself with a sigh, eyes drifting down, away from your gaze. For some reason, it makes your heartbeat viscerally harder.

“You think?” you encouraged, staring at him.

“I think that was the moment I realised I liked you.”

“Well, obviously. We’re friends, JayJ. I knew—”

“No,” he said, cutting you off, firm. His eyes are boring into yours, as if he can see into your thoughts. Your short-lived smile faded. “I mean that I realised I liked liked you. That I had a crush on you.”

You licked your lips nervously. “When we were kids?”

JJ’s fingers brushed against your own, under the blankets. He tangled his into yours, intertwining your hands, just like you had done when you were kids. You couldn’t tell who moved first, but the two of you start to kiss. You sighed against his lips, bringing up a hand to stroke at his jaw, feeling half-detached from your body. Is this real? Is this actually happening? The moment JJ’s teeth gently nipped at your lower lip was your answer. Yes.

All the other girls and all the other bullshit faded away. It didn’t matter to you, in that moment. JJ was tethered to you from the start, since you were kids. Everybody could see it coming – maybe even you – that the two of you would tumble through life together. It just needed time to grow, like nurturing a rare but beautiful flower. Yes, you thought, as the kiss deepens and the hands explored; good things take time.

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj x oc #jj maybank x oc #jj x original character #jj maybank x original character #outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks fic #outerbanks fic #obx #obx fic #taylor swift #seven #original character #jj x mitzi #jj maybank x mitzi

[shootingstarwritings]

Back Home

It’s always difficult leaving your hometown, even after you’re dead! However, I spent the last couple of months of so bodyhopping throughout the country. It was good to take in the sights and the various types of men out there. Next time I go on one of these little “vacations,” it would be outside the country. But for now, I was happy to be flying back home to the east coast.

I was quite familiar with the gay scene there, enough so that I had “regulars” I would jump into. Some other ghosts and creatures I’ve met could just float or astral project through the air, but I could only get by through touch. No flying for me, ‘cept on a plane. Luckily a business DILF on a work trip just so happened to be heading to my hometown.

I was staying at a nice AirBnB, but I still didn’t quite feel right. This guy was basically a tourist, nothing like the fellas that make up this place’s gay scene. Of course, all I needed to do to truly feel right at home was to call one of them up and get inside of him.

Stripping down, I snapped some pics and made a Grindr account for this guy. Not long after I got quite a few responses. Hmm... I decided I would become Vincent for tonight.

He always had a thing for guys in suits. “And then seeing the tie and shirt on the floor,” he would always tell me as I inhabited one of his friends. “Ahh! It’s like a dream come true!” He gushed on and on about it, but I made sure to listen. These fellas were like my family by now. They might as well be! I knew them inside and out.

Vince came by around eight, and I was all ready for him. “Lemme take care of ya, big boy,” I said in a sultry voice, uncommon for guys with lungs like these. Vincent bit his bottom teeth and agreed. I pinned down on the bed and went to town on him with my lips. I didn’t wanna fuck him or ride his dick just yet. Nah, that was for when I was home.

“Fuck! Yeah, don’t--AH! Don’t stoppp...!” Vincent moaned, toes curling as my years of cocksucking made him go mad with pleasure. Then, my essence leapt out of the DILF through his mouth and into him. “AHHH! Ohh, oh my--FUCK!”

Vincent cried out and began to tremble as the DILF collapsed to the side and slid off the bed. He trembled and convulsed as my invading presence engulfed his own and forced him to sleep.

I let out a gasp and stretched my arms. I had been Vincent quite a few times, and his body felt almost as comfortable as my own when I was alive. The way he loved his nipples played with and those cute little moans of his. Yeah... this felt nice.

“I’m home.”

#male possession #possession #male body possession

[gaybananabread]

Congrats on the milestone!! Definitely an exciting one. For the event could I request lemon, dragon fruit, banana with MHA lee Denki and either ler Bakugou or Kirishima (or both lol)?

Fruit(s): Lemons, Dragon Fruit, Bananas

Why choose? I love writing these two as a tag-team, and Kaminari is one of my favorite lees for MHA. Might as well end off the Fruit Shop on the fandom that got me into this whole community! Once again, thank everyone for requesting and participating in the event; I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Denki

Lers: Bakugou, Kirishima

Summary: Denki swipes one of Kirishima’s favorite hoodies, which just so happens to be Bakugou’s best blanket. To “avenge” the red head and get the jacket back, Baku uses a special method of persuasion on the electric hero. Kiri decides to help, playing a good cop role.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Denki ran for his life, ducking over furniture and dancing around other students. He got a few shouts and petty insults, but none of them mattered. If he stopped for just a second, he’d be toast… 

A few feet behind him, a certain fiery blonde surged forwards, letting off a few small explosions to hear Denki squeak. That dork was so dead when he caught up with him…

-

The crimson red hoodie was, in Denki’s opinion, the softest clothing article in the entire dorm complex. It was just heavy enough, and the plush lining on the inside was perfect for cuddles. Sure, it was Kirishima’s favorite piece of Crimson Riot merch he had, but the guy could share.

Sneaking out of the room, Denki hid the hoodie in a place only he would know. He’d return it…eventually. 

Right as he relocked Kiri’s door, he backed into something firm and warm. If that wasn’t hint enough, a low, rumbly growl left the man’s mouth. Oh shit…

“You better have a damn good explanation for this, dunce face.” A small whimper escaped the electric blonde when Bakugo touched his shoulder. Without a word, he took off, running frantically to escape his peer. He couldn’t stay ahead forever, but he had to try.

-

Denki pushed past another student; one he was hoping he wouldn’t run into. Kirishima was about to ask what was wrong when he saw Bakugou on his friend’s tail. Much more surprising, the boy was doing it with something akin to a smile on his face. Whatever was going on, Denki deserved it.

Before he could slip away, Kiri grabbed his shoulder, spinning the other student around. Denki was sent reeling, falling right into the arms of a very strong, very mischievous-looking blonde. Shit.

“Uh…h-hey, Bakugou. Can I…can you let me go? Ehe…” 

Bakugou just chuckled, grabbing the other blonde and tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Denki kicked and squirmed, punching the taller teen’s shoulder. “Lemme go, you brute! I’m innocent!” A lie, but could you blame him for trying?

The explosion user barked out a rough laugh and continued to carry his classmate like a fussy child.. “Bull shit! No way you’re innocent after running like that. Now hold still, ya brat!” 

Kirishima trailed behind the two, following them into his room. Baku slammed the other blonde down on Kiri’s camo sheets. Denki let out a small “oof” as he landed, trying to squirm away. In seconds, though, he was pinned, his arms gathered above his head and his thighs straddled by an almost forgotten redhead.

“Okay, give it up, dude. Where’s my hoodie?” Kiri cracked his knuckles, smirking down at the bratty student. Denki giggled, but didn’t say anything. His lips were metaphorically sealed. Emphasis on metaphorically. “W-whahat hoodie?”

Above him, Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Save it, dunce face. Tell us where the damn hoodie is. Now.” He gathered both of Denki’s hands in one of his, using the other to wiggle his fingers menacingly.

Even though he knew it was coming, the Pikachu-esque boy’s eyes went wide. He knew he was gonna get it, but the wiggling fingers made him more nervous than any spoken threat.

“I dohon’t know! A-ask Mina, shehe loves Crihimson Riot!” Denki honestly had no idea if that was true, but he had to try something. The looks he received, though, told him he had fucked up.

“Oh really? I thought you didn’t know what hoodie was taken, Kami. Care to explain now?” Still giggling, he shook his head, knowing what would happen next. Not wanting to disappoint, Kiri dug in, squeezing and poking his belly and sides.

He giggled like a child, the sound bubbly and bright. The boy tried to kick or twist away, but with Kiri on his thighs and Baku holding up his arms, he wasn’t going anywhere. “G-guhuhuys! Nohot thihihis!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, though the red head chuckled. “This is only gonna get worse for ya, man. Might as well spill now while you can breathe.” Denki just shook his head, staying stubbornly persistent.

The other blonde grew impatient, deciding he’d waited long enough. “Little shit isn’t spilling if you baby him. Gotta be rough with his ass.” Using his free hand, Bakugou dug into one of Denki’s underarms, squeezing and drilling wildly.

“Grk- BAHAHAHA! BAHAKUGOHOHOU!” Denki arched his back at the intense sensation, his eyes squeezing shut. He had expected some tickling, but damn! Angry boy was getting mean with it.

Kirishima shook his head, looking like a frustrated mother. “Seriously, Bakubro? How’s he gonna talk if you’re torturing him?” Still, he didn’t back off, gently running his fingers up and down the length of his midsection.

“Q-QUIHIT FIHIHIGHTING! YOUHU SOHOHOUND LIHIKE MY GRAHANDPAHARENTS!” Both ticklers’ eyes darted down to him, one amused and one ready for murder. Deciding to be a minor devil’s advocate, Kiri teased his violent partner. “I mean, he’s not wrong, bro. You wanna bake some cookies after this?”

Bakugou growled, deciding to get him back for that one later. Right then, he had a different nuisance to destroy. “Just shut up and get his fuckin’ knees already. If he can yap, he can laugh harder.”

“WAHAHAIT! NOHO, PLEHEASE NOHOT THEHERE!” He kicked twice as hard, struggling to do anything besides laugh and beg. “Sorry, dude. You should’ve spilled.”

Without another warning, Kiri turned around, digging into the backs of Denki’s knees. The boy shrieked, tossing his head back and cackling at the torment of his worst spot. “NAHAHAHA! YOUHUHU- *snort* PLEHEHEASE!”

The other blonde chuckled evilly, running his short nails up and down Denki’s forearms, trailing a path from his elbow to his armpit over and over again. It was all the shorter boy could do not to lose his mind, snort after shriek after snort ripping from his throat.

Finally, after about two minutes of the intense tickling, Denki caved; he couldn’t take it anymore. “OHOHOKAHAHAY! IHI’LL SPIHIHIHIL! *snort* NAHAHAHO MOHOHORE!” Small tears of mirth gathered in the corners of his eyes, one sliding down the side of his face.

Kirishima immediately stopped, recognizing the desperation in his voice; he’d never hurt his friends intentionally. Baku scoffed, still not releasing Denki’s arms. “There ya go, fuckin’ brat. Now spill it.”

Giggling off some of the leftover sensations, he tried to recover. “Hohoholy shihit…thahat was- youhu guys are ahahawful!”

Bakugou squeezed his side, making the blonde shriek in surprise. “Ohokay, okay! Ihit’s in my cohomic cubby! Noho mohohore!”

While the aggressive boy would have been more than happy to continue, Kirishima put a hand on his. “That’s good, Bakubro. Let him breathe, I’m happy.” Rolling his eyes, Baku climbed off his sparky peer, sauntering off to who-knows-where. Kiri would talk with him later.

Kirishima looked back down at his giggly friend with a fond smile. He ruffled Denki’s hair, though it was already messy enough. He had one piece of advice that might save the guy from another total wrecking.

“Next time, Kami? Watch what’cha steal around Bakubro~”

#kasey's fruit shop #mha tickle #lee!denki #ler!bakugou #ler!kirishima #ticklish!denki #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #fruit shop event #my hero academia tickle #ticklish!kaminari #lee!kaminari #mha #mha denki #mha kaminari #mha bakugou #mha kirishima

[itoshi-s]

heyyyy Zari, I love your writing! It got me curious, which one of the bluelock boys do you think is the biggest freak in bed? and I mean like nasty, blood, spit, sweat n all? :D

*cracks knuckles* helloooo nonnie beloved akjfhsak i am so sorry i kept this in my inbox for so long but thoughts have been thunked

bllk's nastiest and messiest

cw: fem reader, spit, blood play (v light), cum play, watersports, impact play (v light as well)

ryusei takes 1st place hands down,, is anyone even surprised though? there's barely anything this man doesn't want to try - especially with a pretty little thing like you! once he has you, there's no going back, so you better give him a heads up if you're not in the mood for anythin crazy </3 cause he WILL lose his mind as soon as he gets his hands on you.

a v messy kisser, has his tongue all down your throat, lets you suck on his and is more than happy to give you the same treatment. bites on your bottom lip until the skin breaks, licks into your mouth until there's a faint trace of red on his tongue. a spitter, but he'd rather have you spitting in his mouth instead - loves to see you getting all flustered when he asks you to c'mon angel, lemme taste ya. eats you out until his tongue hurts and jaw slacks, all soaked w your juices. does this thing when he just lets his tongue hang out when you squirt </3 drinks it all right up, ignores your hands pushing away at his head. gets hard all over again when he goes down on you right after he's just spilled himself all up your cunt and laps at his cum seeping out of u :( moans like a bitch, he knows it's nasty but frankly, he doesn't care. (like i said, it riles him up even more.) may i also suggest... watersports..... both ways if you're up for it, but as mentioned before, there's nothing that gets him going so rabid like seeing you all embarrassed n teary eyed. so best believe ryu will ignore your whimpers and squeals on how you've gotta go pee - more so, he will go the extra mile to angle either his hips or fingers just right and press down on your tummy too :( nasty nasty nasty nasty. there's nothing he wouldn't do to you.

rin obviously makes the list as well and i don't take any criticism on this. we've seen him in the u20 game. mans is FILTHY and doesn't care whether he's drooling all over himself or not - once he gets into it, he's gone <3 doesn't need that much to lose it either, give him the right look, a sloppy kiss or two and he's a goner. grabs and smacks every part of you he reaches, kneads at your flesh until there's bruises forming - it's not like he's got a proper thing for it, he just really cannot control it - and probably groans all about it even more than you do. literally fucking forgets to swallow when he's having his way w you, give it a few minutes of making out and he's all slobbered up. forces your mouth open when he fucks you, thumb pushing your tongue down on your chin so that he can spit on it whenever he likes :( always urges you into the shower to clean up right after you're done cause there's like a lil pool of saliva on your sternum or tummy lol he literally drools. isn't embarrassed at all though </3 doesn't mind cumplay either, makes out w you right after you've sucked him dry just to spit it right back into your awaiting mouth. honorable mentions: choking (cause it gets you all teary, face wet w tears and tongue lolled out so that you can get some air in) and last but not least,, licking (needs to have all of you all at once - groans as he tastes the salt on your skin when he licks up your neck)

bachira!!! ohhh he's insane he really is !!!!!!!! loves loves looooooooves cumplay it gets him going like nothin else i am telling you. cums in his pants untouched or either from grinding down into the bed as he eats you out, laughs all breathily when he pulls out. y'make me so messy, pretty girl. wan' you to clean me right up, yeah? loses his mind when you peel his boxers back and, indeed, lick him clean - all while glancing up at him, wide eyed and just as desperate. i do think megs doesn't really last that long in one go - he's just so needy all of the time, gets riled up really quick - BUT he bounces right back, so don't fret!!! he WILL be giving you multiple rounds. and you already know what it means :( yeah. by the time he's done, you can barely keep yourself up on your knees, limp and trembling, with your face painted white. there's milky, thin streaks of cum all over your lashes, probably somewhere in your hairline as well,, and meguru makes sure to rub his tip all ll over your pouty and reddened lips to smear it around. he has so much to give you and makes sure he never holds back :( hah, you're just s'cute like that, baby. you like bein' my messy girl?

#✧.* ✉ zari’s mail #blue lock smut #bllk smut #shidou ryusei smut #itoshi rin smut #bachira meguru smut #ryusei shidou smut #rin itoshi smut #meguru bachira smut #honorable mention; oliver aiku ( cause he is just. so fun to be with.. is always up to try somethin new w u. doesn't care if it's messy ) #rin my love #ryusei >_< #bachira <3

[my-soupy-brain]

Got some new clothes in an online shopping haul and I need Ted to hype me up while I try stuff on

Ted is the ultimate hype boyfriend. There's literally nothing you could wear that he won't celebrate. It could be a burlap sack, for goodness sake, and he'll tell ya how damn beautiful you look, darlin'. Let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader (f)

Warnings: So kind and cute it hurts, but let's get some smut in there too

---

You've never done a haul before. It's the hottest thing online -- buy a bunch of clothes from a website or two, and try them on.

You were nervous though.

Your body had changed, admittedly. Ted's biscuits didn't help, but you'll be damned if you ever turn them down.

So dressing for some plumper areas of your body felt...

"Whatcha got there, sugar?" Ted chimes, seeing you unload the box on the bed, chewing on an apple while help leans against the doorframe.

"I did one of those online shopping haul things? From a couple of websites I wanted to try. And I'm about to dive right in," you say with a sigh.

"Oooh! Fashion show. You'll look gorgeous in whatever ya wear, y'know," Ted says, moving to sit on the bed, picking up the individually wrapped clothes and trying to imagine what's inside.

"Oh Ted, you don't... no, it's OK," you start to offer, trying to avoid the embarrassment of him seeing you in these new garments. Especially ones that might not look so great.

He can see the doubt on your face.

"Now, I'll leave if ya want me to, but I'll gladly be your front-row audience and cheering section, too," he says, dragging you between his legs so he can wrap his arms around you and touch you.

Despite how your body may have changed over the last couple of months, Ted never showed any signs of being anything but enamored with you.

You smile. "OK, here goes!"

...

Your first outfit is a fairly body-forming long-sleeve fuzzy dress, perfect for winter around the corner. You paired it with a belt you ordered and some black boots.

As soon as you open the door, Ted's eyes are big, his mouth dropped open.

"Oh, sugar, lemme see that," he says, his voice low and sultry. His hands run down the sides of the dress, the fabric so soft it makes him smile.

"You're like a cozy, sexy goddess," Ted chimes, grinning at you. You do a small twirl and Ted nods, looking you up and down.

"I mean..." he nods again. "Yeah, keep that. Keep that one for sure."

You blush wildly and look down, Ted bringing you back to stand in front of him, his hands grabbing your hips.

"Shows off all those perfect damn curves," he murmurs, his drawl heavy and voice a bit lower. "I love seein' what I can grab onto. Sexiest thing in the dang world."

You shudder a little and blush again, and Ted looks up and sees your face.

"Let's see what else you've got hidin' back there, sugar," and he lightly spanks your butt as you turn to walk away and you giggle.

The next outfit is a red mockneck sweater, with a heart-shaped cutout over the cleavage, tucked into some baggy black, soft pants that can be dressed up or down. You pair it with some heels.

Ted whistles as soon as he sees it.

"Well, they placed that heart right, I'll say that much," Ted says, his eyes going to your chest. You raise an eyebrow playfully.

"C'mon, now! I mean 'cause that's where that beautiful heart of yours is!"

You laugh. "That all?"

"No, also because where those beautiful curves are that make my heart pound," he chides, bringing you back in front of him, holding your hand while he looks you up and down.

"Oh, I like those pants! They're like dressy jammies!" Ted smiles up at you, and you grin.

Boys.

You stand in the mirror and look at yourself from every angle, Ted leaning back on the bed and watching you.

"Sugar, you couldn't look better even if you had a professional stylist," he says with confidence. You eyeball him through the mirror.

"Now, now. We know that's not true."

Ted shrugs. "Sure it is. You're perfect just like y'are. No need to mess with perfection."

You blush and smile, blowing him a kiss through the mirror, which he playfully catches.

The next few outfits go by in a whirlwind. Ted claps, touches, marvels, cheers.

"Look at you!" "Golly, darlin', you're makin' my heart race!" "That color is gorgeous with your eyes." "But so is that color! Oh, you can wear the rainbow, sugar!"

Ted will be damned if you don't feel like the most beautiful thing in the world every second you can.

...

You're in the bathroom for a little while.

"Y'got anything else in there, darlin'?" Ted calls from the other room. You smile as you fix the straps of the next item.

When the door opens, Ted is texting Beard a silly meme and smiling at his phone. You clear your throat.

"Last one."

Ted puts his phone down and when his eyes look up, his heart almost stops beating.

You're standing there in a purple, satin and lace short nightgown and matching robe. You're in bare feet, for once, your hair down and a smile on your face.

"Thoughts?" you ask, biting your lip nervously.

"Come here."

"Wait, good or bad?" you ask.

"Come here."

You step closer, and Ted pulls you over his lap, his hands roaming up your body over the satin, his breathing shallow, and a moan slips out of his throat.

"You like this color?"

Ted leans his lips forward and kisses your collarbone, his mustache brushing your skin, his big hands roaming the curves of your ass, your back, your hips...

"I take that as a yes?"

He grunts and groans, his lips moving up your neck to your ear.

He's breathing hard and fast, his breath hot against you, and you can't help but give into wherever this is going.

"What color is it?" Ted asked, making you laugh. "I didn't even notice."

You chuckle, and he giggles with you, his hands still traveling every curve. Even the new ones.

"You're delicious," he murmurs to your neck, nibbling your ear.

"So...is this a keeper?" you ask, your breath changing and desire coursing your veins.

"You're a keeper," Ted says against your skin, his fingers now in your hair as he looks at you, his eyes dark with lust. "But yeah, this is a keeper, but it won't be on long."

He quickly rolls you to the bed, to your back, his lips trailing from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, breasts, hips, and thighs. When his hands ghost under the short hem of the nightgown, he moans when he realizes there's no barrier.

With little notice, he moves to the floor on his knees, hooking his arms around your thighs and tugging you toward the edge of the bed as you squeak in surprise.

His nose bumps against your clit and he groans again, his tongue meeting you, kissing you, tasting you...

"Ted!" you cry out, your hands gripping the sheets of the bed, and one moving to his hair. His eyes make contact with yours, dark and focused, his mouth dipping down, his tongue dipping in again and again.

"Taste so good, could eat ya all day," Ted murmurs, with that sexy drawl and low baritone.

When he slides his first two fingers in you, you gasp and he smiles. His thumb plays against your clit, making your breath grow shorter and sharper.

"I don't think I need to warm ya up, sugar," he says with a sly grin. "I think all that fun teasin' earlier got ya started. But I wanna make you feel good like a goddess deserves..."

When he curls his fingertips your hips bump up, your body arching as the pleasure rolls through your nerves, up your thighs and to your stomach.

"Oh, God..."

"Yeah, baby...you're so beautiful..."

He almost gets you to climax before you beg him to come back to you.

"Need you...need..." you murmur, your brain short-circuiting. "Please..."

Ted smiles and crawls up to you, unbuckling his belt with one hand, your greedy hands pulling his shirt off while he pulls down his pants and boxer briefs.

A big, warm hand holds your thigh and he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth, and you can feel his cock teasing your center. You wiggle your hips and Ted smiles.

"Almost there, doll," he whispers, kissing his way back to your lips.

He wets the tip against you and pushes in, and you wrap your legs high around him, his hands back on your thighs.

"You're so soft, so delicious," he murmurs, his lips against yours for a moment, whispering. "You're perfect."

Your fingernails drag down his back and up his hair, down his chest and chest hair, and back up to cup his face.

He makes love soft but deep. It's a rainy Sunday evening, nowhere to be, nothing to do. So he takes his time.

"God, Ted," you murmur. "I'm...I'm..."

Ted nods against you, the tendril over his forehead bouncing.

"Yeah, sugar, me too... let it happen, baby," he comforts, and you arch your back and the angle moves, his hands quickly running down your breasts and waist and hips.

"I'm so damn lucky," he says, looking down at you, your head thrown back in pleasure.

When he hovers over you again, you bring your lips to his, and the roll of his tongue against yours, his breath shared with you...that does it...

"Oh God, oh God!" you pant, your body shaking as the climax comes through you, your breathing tight in your stomach as the pleasure mounts.

"Yeah, yeah, I feel you, darlin'. Keep goin'. Keep goin'. Almost there..."

Your fingernails clutch his back and the stinging pain is pleasurable, sending his hips moving faster in and out of you, and then...

You wrap your legs around him as he clutches you and fills you, moaning your name in your ear, both of your bodies shaking. When the movement stops, you breathe together, your bodies a little slick with sweat. He kisses your neck and cheek sweetly, and you kiss his lips the same.

"I love you," you offer, gazing into his eyes, making him smile. He cups your face. "I love you, too. So much."

When he moves away from you, he returns with a washcloth to clean you up, and you smile at the warm softness of his touch. He crawls into bed and curls you into his chest.

"So are you keepin' this one?" Ted asks, and you look down at the wrinkles and the small drips of his sweat on the satin.

"I think I have to," you laugh. "It's a good thing we both like it."

Ted chuckles, the low sound against your ear where you lay on his chest.

"Oh yeah, I can say that one's a success."

"Maybe I'll do another haul...of just these..."

Ted closes his eyes and moans a little.

"We can test 'em all."

"Well, it needs your stamp of approval for sure," you offer, kissing him as his hand runs down your back again.

"Sugar, anything you wear has my stamp of approval."

---

WOOOOO! Monday Smutday? Why not. I love how Ted would be such a cheerleader. He honestly would find no flaws in anything you try on. But lingerie haul? He's a perfect test subject. Hahaaa! Thanks for the prompt, friend!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso x you #ted lasso smut

[agentmarvel]

I'm working on a multi-chap (even though I swore them off) free use assistant fic for tf141, and lemme tell ya, the worms are working OVERTIME.

nsfw headcanons under the cut - fem!reader

MDNI - 18+ (minors and ageless blogs WILL BE BLOCKED)

🖤

Price is v much so daddy. That's what he wants to be called at all times with his pretty little assistant. Cockwarming is a regular with him, especially while he's finishing paperwork. He's the type to smack your thigh every time you wiggle, chastise you for it, and then make you beg for more when he finishes his last report. His pace is always brutal, but he still treats you like glass afterwards, A+ aftercare and all. Will definitely make you wear his t-shirt after while he smokes his cigar.

Gaz is a little more tame, but only a little. He wants you to call him by his name, takes you on little dates where he can, but he's teasing the entire time: a palm on your thigh, making suggestive comments whenever the opportunity presents, crowding you up against a wall, pinning you there only to kiss your nose or forehead. He wants you worked up and impatient. Wants to feel like you want him just as bad. Very much so passionate. He's not nearly as rough with you as Ghost and Soap are, but he still makes sure you can feel him for a day or two after. Eye contact and hand-holding are musts. Foreplay is long and drawn-out, seeing just how long you both can hold out before it's just raw, carnal need. He makes it all worth the wait with the ways he positions you to get as deep as he possibly can. Very complimentary to every single part of you. Always has a glass of water ready for you after and cleans you up like a gentleman.

Ghost is none too gentle himself, but he always takes care of you. Very much the Sir type. He makes it a goal to pull even one more orgasm than last time, and he'll mock and/or ignore your pleas for him to stop unless you use the safeword (you never do). Simon wants you a teary mess that can't even think, no coherent words coming out of your mouth. He particularly enjoys degrading you in terms you've agreed to. Loves it when you cry for him, and he'll lick up every tear. When your eyes keep rolling back beyond your control, Simon grips your jaw and demands you keep your eyes on him. Face slaps every time you look away. Like Price, the aftercare is top notch. He's very reassuring, heavy on the praise, and always walks you back to your quarters, even if it just gets him hard all over again to see you walking like a newborn fawn on wobbly legs. (If you need to take a break to regain some strength, he's fucking you again immediately)

Soap is an absolute freak. He bites and sucks and marks you up all sorts of pretty, spits on you/in your mouth, LOVES when your make-up runs, keeps pictures and videos on his burner from every time you're with him. Needs praise, tho. Tell him he's a good boy and watch the switch flip. Will demand you come see him after other appointments bc he knows you've got a load threatening to drip out after being with Price, and he just wants to clean you up... 😈 But he's always so cuddly after your appointments; in fact, he's the only one to insist you spend the night with him.

And every morning, when you join them for their meetings, you're greeted with a line of forehead kisses as they filter in.

#tf 141 x reader #tf141 x you #cod x reader #cod x you #john price x reader #john price x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #jj writes

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 I had an idea

Summary: After Alastor cheated on Aponi, she decided to take a bit of revenge when Angel tells her the radio demon is in the audience of one of her performances.

Warnings: stripping, sexual content and context, innuendo, mentions of cheating and jealousy, lap dancing, mentions of Maturb*tion and Valentino

I my head this is what Aponi is wearing.

Partition

Aponi put out her cigarette as she put on her makeup.

This was the first time she was performing since the scandal. And she had something big planned.

"Hey uh... 'poni?" Angel dust called as he walked into her dressing room.

"What's up angie?" Apono asked as she pulled her orange rove up a but more so she wasn't cold.

"Alastor is here," he stated.

Aponi halted the movements of putting on lipstick before she smirked.

Looks like her performance would have to be a little more risqué than originally planned.

"I'll be out in 10," she muttered.

.........

Alastor took a seat in the shadows so he wasn't recognized.

He knew for a fact he'd be hate crimes for what he did to Aponi... she was one of the more loved demons on this side of town....

He already felt awful for cheating.... it was a mistake... he came here mostly to see Aponi considering he wasn't really "allowed" anywhere without Linda... she was.... bossy... or at leats that's the more polite term he'd like to use....

The lights turned off and alastor looked to the stage.

"Lemme hear you say 'Hey, Aponi'" Aponi held the microphone to her lips, her silhouette standing out against the orange light behind her.

The crowd called back, "Hey, Aponi!"

"Say, 'Hey, Aponi!'" She called out again,, a but louder.

The crowd went wild, "Hey, Aponi!"

Give me some!

As the beat dripped the lights went on, and alastor's eyes went wide at what she was wearing.

Black butterfly lingerie.

See me up in the club with fifty-eleven girls Posted in the back, diamond fangs in my grill Brooklyn brim with my eyes sittin' low Every boy in here with me got that smoke And every girl in here got to look me up and down All on Instagram, cake by the pound Circulate the image every time I come around G's up, tell me how I'm lookin' babe

Alastor looked around at all the demons, practically fuming as he saw how all of of looked greedily at her like she was an object.

Aponi danced.

Her moves more secual than Alastor remembered....

Aponi walked down to the floor of the club before sitting on a demon's lap, moving her hips to the beat.

Alastor clenched his fist around his cane as it broadcasted gunshot noises rather loudly.... not louder than the music however.

Boy this all for you, just walk my way Just tell me how it's lookin' babe, just tell me how it's lookin' babe I do this all for you baby just take aim And tell me how it's lookin babe, and tell me how it's lookin' babe Lookin' babe

Aponi then moved to straddle the demon she was teasing, murmuring the lyrics into his ear.

When she stood up, the demon's attraction was clear, his face gully flushed as he followed her with lustful eyes.

That's when alastor saw her look right at him, a small glare on her face before she walked back up to the stage, dancing on one of the poles.

Drop the bass, mane, the bass get lower Radio say speed it up I just go slower High like treble, pumping on them mids Ya man ain't never seen a booty like this And why you think ya keep my name rollin' off the tongue 'Cause when he wanna smash, I'll just write another one I sneezed on the beat and the beat got sicker Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor Like, like liquor, like, like, like liquor Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor Like, like liquor, like, like, like liquor

As the music played, other demons, including Mal, and Angel began dancing behind Aponi to the same choreography.

Alastor shrunk in his seat, his shadow along with him.

The lights went crazy with the beat, and Alastor gulped as he made eye contact with Mal on accident.

The glare she gave him was undescribably scary.

Beyoncé, Beyoncé? Are you happy to be in Paris? (Are you happy to be in Paris?) Beyoncé, Beyoncé? Beyoncé, Beyoncé?

The music went on, and Aponi walked off of the stage again, walking over to a different demon, this time a woman.

Driver roll up the partition please Driver roll up the partition please I don't need you seeing 'Yonce on her knees Took forty-five minutes to get all dressed up We ain't even gonna make it to this club Now my mascara running, red lipstick smudged Oh he so horny, yeah he want to fuck He bucked all my buttons, he ripped my blouse He Monica Lewinski'd all on my gown

Aponi sat on the lady demon's lap before taking a vodka bottle out of her hand and chugging it.

Alastor's eyes widened again.... his Lilly didn't drink......

To sya he was confused was an understatement.

He was snapped out of his thoughts however when Aponi kissed the demon.

Emotions of rage filled the radio star, and yet he knew if he acted on his feelings right now, it would not end well with Aponi.

Oh there daddy, daddy didn't bring the towel Oh baby, baby we slow it down Took forty-five minutes to get all dressed up We ain't even gonna make it to this club

Aponi stood up again walking round the room, before her wings appeared from her tattoo on her back.

She flew to the stage again, swinging her body on the pole with lidded eyes.

Take all (take all) Of me (of me) I just wanna be the girl you like, girl you like The kind of girl you like, girl you like Take all (take all) Of me (of me) I just wanna be the girl you like, girl you like The kinda girl you like is right here with me Right here with me, right here with me, right here with me, right here with me

The music blare din the club, making the place move as the bass of the music dropped over and over again.

Aponi layed down on the stage, arching her back so her body was visible in a sexual way.

The residents of the club whooped and hollered and whisled at her.

Alastor couldn't take much more of this......

Driver roll up the partition fast (partition fast, partition fast) Driver roll up the partition fast Over there, I swear I saw them cameras flash Handprints and footprints on my glass Handprints and good grips all on my ass Private show with the music blasting He like to call me Peaches when we get this nasty Red wine drip, talk that trash Chauffeur eavesdropping trying not to crash. Oh, there daddy, daddy now you ripped my fur Oh, baby baby be sweating out my hair Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up And we ain't even gonna make it to this club

The music somehow got even louder....

Alastor looked around the room again, only to see Valentino in his booth with a sleezey smile on his face as his hand moved quickly over his-

Alastor looked away quickly when he realized.

This was pissing him off....

How dare she do this?! She shouldn't show off her body, it's whorelike!

That's what he thought in his mind as his hands clenched together in anger.

Take all (take all) Of me (of me) I just wanna be the girl you like, girl you like The kind of girl you like, girl you like Take all Of me I just wanna be the girl you like, girl you like The kinda girl you like is right here with me. Right here with me, right here with me, right here with me, right here with me

Aponi sat up before moving her hair fully out of her face.

that never happened..... Alastor has never even seen her other eye and yet here she was showing it to loads of strangers.

Aponi kneeled as she moved her body up an down, earning even more cheers form the club-goers.

That when she opened her eyes and looked right at alastor with a smirk.

She walked over to him, and the spotlight shone down on them both.

Hello! Est-ce que tu aimes le sexe? Le sexe, je veux dire: l'activité physique Le coït. Tu aimes ça? Tu ne t'intéresses pas au sexe? Les hommes pensent que les féministes détestent le sexe Mais c'est une activité très stimulante et naturelle que les femmes adorent

Oh god... she was speaking in french....

alastor gulped as she sat on his lap with a smirk, pulling him Un closer to her by his jacket.

However when she got up, she pushed him back harshly with a glare, anger shining in her eyes as they glowed red as fire.

Take all Of me I just wanna be the girl you like, girl you like The kind of girl you like, girl you like Take all Of me I just wanna be the girl you like, girl you like The kinda girl you like Right here with me, right here with me, right here with me, right here with me

Alastor left before the song was finished, scared that Aponi might come to talk to him after.

As if.

She wouldn't waste her time.

........

Aponi sat in her dressing room, a vicorious smirk on her face as she took off all her makeup.

Revenge was sweet.

#Spotify

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

A fiercely kept Munson secret is that Eddie didn’t create the big Corroded Coffin banner on his bedroom wall, proudly displayed next to the mirror which holds his Sweetheart.

Uncle Wayne created it.

He walked in from work one very early morning to find an Eddie who had evidently not slept. Dark bags under those gorgeous chocolate eyes, clothes rumpled, hair looking like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards (and Uncle Wayne wouldn’t put such a feat past his boy), bouncing on the balls of his feet, tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in concentration, a trembling hand trying to hold a pencil steady.

“What’s got you all jangled, son?”

Uncle Wayne is at Eddie’s side in an instant.

“Tryna’ create this, uh, banner, for my band. I know what I wanna do, man, m’just too damn excited and my hand won’t - “ Eddie’s other hand closed around his wrist, trying to hold himself steady.

And just like that, Uncle Wayne’s top priority wasn’t reheating the dinner Eddie had cooked for him or even taking a shower to wash away the long twelve hour shift at the plant.

It was drawing this banner for his boy.

“C’mere, son, lemme look at it.” He took in the old bedsheet, folded and already lined to give Eddie some guidance as to the size he wanted. “Y’got a picture or somethin’ I can copy of what ya’ want? I ain’t freehandin’ something so important.”

Eddie’s silence told Uncle Wayne that he trusted his dad to freehand, if he wanted to. All the same, he sheepishly pulled over his sketchbook, flicked through it to find the Corroded Coffin logo, and jabbed at it decisively.

Uncle Wayne stared at it hard, his icy blues unmoving. And then, he took the pencil from Eddie, sketched it out almost perfectly first try, then handed it back to Eddie, who was bouncing on the spot, hissing “yes”s and “it’s perfect” to himself.

“Pen or paint, kid?”

“Paint, please.” Eddie’s voice of hushed awe slipped into the tranquility of the trailer as Uncle Wayne went back over his own work, filled in between the lines, and stepped back as he set the brush down with a flourish and flung an arm over his son’s shoulder.

“That oughta’ do it.”

The Uncle Wayne Nod of Approval™️ was punctuated by Eddie jumping up and down enthusiastically, shout-whispering “most. metal. ever!!!”, but he didn’t tell his baby boy to shush or to be quiet. He simply let Eddie be, soaking in the smile which took over Eddie’s face with a warmth in his chest so hot it almost left him breathless.

And, again, Uncle Wayne put it up on the wall, too. He let his boy pick where to put it, but because he can't line things up straight for shit even with a ruler handy, Uncle Wayne did that, too.

Anything for his baby boy. Anything.

eddie & wayne @hellfirebabe @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @bakerstreethound @gemstone-roses @sweetpeapod @authorlovers @jslittlebirdie @heydreamchild @comfortcharactercraze @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @ourstaturestouchtheskies @m00nlight101 @3ddi3-daydreamer @pleasantlycrazyworld @samlealea @manyfandomsfanvergent @indouloureux  @niceboyeds @becca-alexa @singularattitudeofasafetypin @knifeskiss @loving-and-dreaming @hiscrimsonangell @worlds-turned-upsidedown

#wrote this during a study break in like 5 mins so sorry if bad #uncle wayne #wayne munson #eddie munson #eddie and wayne munson #the Munsons

[gettinshiggywithit]

!Dating Sukuna HeadCanons!

Scenario:-what would it be like to date ryumen sukuna?

Pairing:-sukuna x gn!reader{shell}

Genre:-fluff

Type:-headcanons

A/N:-i hopy you like this @shelly-stark-official! I tried:’)

Okay

SO

Sukuna is a little shit

But its fine cos so are you~

Honestly the fact that the kINg oF cUrSeS fell in love with your devious and scheming self was not a surprise

Especially not to yuuji(poor fella had to share all of sukunas thoughts abt you and while u and itadori were besties.sukuna wasnt um...thinkin of you in a um platonic way)

(Like at all)

So when buddy boi finally asked you out

And although it felt weird um datin someone who shared the same body as your best friend,you got used to it and yuuji learned not to be so awkward abt it too...

And the moment he suggested you play a (borderline sadistic) prank in yuuji,you paused for a sec before agreeing~

And the moment he suggested you play a (borderline sadistic) prank in yuuji,you paused for a sec before agreeing~

(You knew youd be able to use your quirk if something rly badd happened to him)

And lemme tell you ‘kuna fell even deeper in love~

Sometime you and him and yuuji go out for lunch and while yuuji is the one in control,sukuna opens up those lil mouths on yuujis palms and under his eye to talk to you.

You feed him fries and yuuji hates that the grease is getting on his face😭(ples apologise to our best boi 😔)

So many ppl were like legitimately scared of sukuna but to you he was just a little shit and honestly? I think yall’d be cutee together (i wanna be the ring bear! 🐻)

(I think ur dates would include LOTS of scheming but also bitchin,cos this man has THOUSANDS of yeaes worth of tea to spill and hearin abt ancient gossip is still funny as shit🙈)

Now a little on the powercouple dynamic~

I think that while yall would tease and joking insult eachother,if anyone else tried dishing out jabs in your respective directions the other wouldnt stand for it

Like if someone ELSE calls u idiotic,theyre begging for mercy in a second

And if anyone calls sukuna something insulting,you’re basically walkingg them upto deaths door urself

And if You ever mention how this means he cares abt you,he will in fact go into denial and completely invalidate your opinion on the subject

Furthermore if anyone ever speaks badly of the two of you as a couple (i.e. gossiping and such) yall would just completely ignore them

Like who cares if a barely succeeding apprentice sorcerer doesnt approve of your relationship?????

Yh thats right,no one!

And just to piss em off further,i think hed suddenly initiate a particularl Passionate kiss in front of the gossiper.

Suffice to say that shut em up,for better or worse

I dont really think sukuna would ever fully open up to anyone,not even his s/o.but every so often you do catch glimpses of who he is deep down.its usually blink-and-you-miss-it moments but youve caught some

He doesnt really carw about how open you are either but i think itd make him feel special if you are morw open and vulnerable with him.again,he rly doesn’t give a fuck but it just makes him feel a certain way,y’know?

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but these stories? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Comments & Reblogs w/ tags >>>>>>>>>>>likes please

Taglist open for anyone interested!

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu yuji #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #📚jaya’s tales #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryumen sukuna x reader #yuuji x you #jjk fluff #jjk crack #sukuna fluff #sukuna fanfic #sukuna ryumen #ryumen sukuna #sukuna headcanons #📬jaya answers #sukuna