#not ass backwards cheerleader

[kboo1999]

OH. MY. GOD.

[chariot-to-somewhere]

Oh shit! Body's shouldn't be that direction

[caitlinbueckers]

ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS

anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass

pet names.

paige bueckers/azzi fudd.

2.8K.

kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???

minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck

Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one

at first, it’s a subtle change.

it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.

so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.

it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.

it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.

azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.

“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”

it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.

baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.

it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.

and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’

ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.

babybabybaby.

she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.

all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.

and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.

but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.

when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.

or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.

and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”

really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.

it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.

“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.��

it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.

the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.

it makes her whole body warm all over.

her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.

“night, p.”

but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.

or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.

it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.

but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.

“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”

she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”

this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”

my girl.

what the fuck ever.

azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.

in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.

it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.

“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”

because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”

god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.

it’s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.

“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.

but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.

it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”

it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.

“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”

really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.

it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.

in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”

she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.

she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.

but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.

it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.

it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”

and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.

and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’

and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.

a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You and Eddie are enemies, you can't stand each other, but when you spot him with Chrissy in the woods you're forced to confront your feelings for him and the fact you'll have to hide it from him.

He hates you, he'd only make your life miserable if he found out.

Everybody lives, nobody dies Au, angst to fluff, jealousy and idiots very much in love. 18+ mdni.

❤️

You can hear Eddie before you see him as you walk into the cafeteria with your cheer mates. As usual, he's making a spectacle of himself at the Hellfire table, standing on it and calling out the marching band, basketball players and the party crowd.

Rolling your eyes at his dramatics you attempt to walk past the table but Eddie seeks you out, a smirk on his face as he focuses his attention fully on you.

"There's my favourite cheerleader" his winks at you and you stand your ground, ready for whatever shit he's about to say.

His purpose was annoying you, or at least thats what it felt like. It was always you that got his ire, who grabbed his attention every time. Honestly it was the same for you when Eddie was around.

It was like both of you were moths to a flame, something simmered between the two of you that you couldn't place or at least if you could, you didn't want to examine the cause too closely.

"There's my favourite dumbass" you fire back and he clutches his heart like you've wounded him. Ever since you and Eddie laid eyes on each other it was like you were magnets to the other.

Whenever your paths crossed there was tension in the air, banter exchanged that left both of you bothered and wanting more... Whatever it was between the two of you could wait for another day, you had cheer practice, prom committee and a bake sale to organise.

You did not have time for Eddie Munson today.

Not that he cares about your plans. He jumps off the table and lands right in front of you. Ugh. "Munson, I haven't got time for your dramatics today, go bother someone else"

He pouts and it's frustrating that he looks almost endearing while doing it. "How can I cope if I haven't been told to go kiss my own ass and the many other insults you've spouted at me just in the last week or so sweetheart?"

Here's the thing. You're certain Eddie enjoys arguing with you, gets some sort of pleasure from it. If you're being honest you enjoy it too.

"Oh bite me, you'll survive Munson" his eyes light up and then you hear a snigger from behind you, it's his sheeples or whatever he calls them, Dustin, Lucas and Mike watching the two of you fascinated.

"You say I'm oblivious, look at those two" Mike mutters and Eddie still overhears even though Mike has whispered it.

"What was that Wheeler?" Eddie narrows his eyes at him and Mike turns pink and looks suddenly very interested in his soda. You slip away from Eddie when he's distracted.

Both of you are rattled by what Mike said but you try not to show it as you walk away.

❤️

As the day winds to an end you're beyond relieved to just be going home, then you notice Chrissy walking into the woods instead of heading home herself.

Curious, you follow her into the woods, then freeze as you find out that she's meeting up with Eddie.

It's an awkward conversation at first but the tension melts away as Eddie and Chrissy are talking, he's goofing around to make her smile.

Throws himself backwards into a pile of leaves, asking if there is something in his hair, shy little smiles and hiding his face with hair as he talks to her.

There's a sinking feeling in your stomach, an aching in your heart that multiples when Chrissy giggles along with Eddie.

Seeing enough you stomp away, crashing blindly through the trees, there's wetness on your cheeks and you realise you've been crying. Crying over Eddie fucking Munson and the fact he was obviously smitten with Chrissy.

It wasn't a surprise, everyone was and to Eddie you were just an annoyance, someone who pissed him off and that was that. You always knew that but now the realisation was paticularly crushing.

You liked Eddie, like really liked him. Of all the guys you could fall for, why did it have to be the one who spent half his time thinking of new ways to irratate the hell out of you?

Couldn't you have realised this any sooner?

Shit if he even knew how you felt about him it would he horrid for you, he would never let you forget it and show you his disgust.

So it was settled. You would stay far far away from Eddie Munson, and his cute dimples and pretty brown eyes. They were nothing but trouble.

❤️

For the next few days you keep your distance from Eddie. It's hard though, because he seems to be wherever you are with that amused grin on his face.

You don't even entertain his stupid barbs, you ignore him for as long as you can, but he's growing more frustrated that you aren't your usual sarcastic self.

It gets to the point that you turn around during one encounter and glare at him, embarrassed as tears pool in your eyes. "Will you just leave me alone Munson" his eyes widen at your tears, you storm away before he can say anything else.

...

Eddie does leave you alone, you don't see him the next day which is a rarity.

It doesn't last for too long, you find him at his van talking to one of The Hellfire Members. He turns around and spots you, shooing his friend away.

"Will you talk to me" he sounds almost pleading and it throws you off balance. There's no way he missed talking to you is there?

"Why for you to rant and insult me, or make me feel even more shitty about myself,'" he reels back like you've slapped him.

"What? I don't... 'he trails off as you scoff and turn away from him.

"Yes you do. Not all time but sometimes you're just fucking mean. I guess because I'm and I quote "so bitchy and vapid''you think that it won't bother me" his face falls and he shakes his head.

"I shouldn't have said that. I was a mean douchebag" you look away from him stubbornly and shrug.

"Yeah well, I'm not sweet and perfect like Chrissy, everyone adores her" fuck you adored her, so no wonder Eddie liked her.

"What does Chrissy have to do about this?" He looks puzzled. His big brown eyes searching you for an explanation.

Flustered you explain what you saw. "You were all flirty and sweet with her the other day, when I saw you in the woods together, not that I care" you wince realising that you've gave away that you do care very much.

This was stupid. You were jealous of your friend and you shouldn't be. Having enough you decide to walk away but Eddie follows you.

"Chrissy wanted some weed for her and Jason, that's all, I'm not interested in Chrissy princess and she's definitely not interested in me". You're stunned by this, you never expected Chrissy to ever try weed and this stops you in your tracks.

"Seriously?" you gape and he gestures for you to sit in his van, opens the door for you as he does so.

"Why were you avoiding me sweetheart?" he asks you his tone very gentle. You feel your whole body flush with mortification as he stares at you, waiting for an answer.

"Please don't make me say it Eddie, you'll only turn around and be a complete ass about it"

Or be sweet like he is now and turn you down kindly, looking at you with pity. There's a brief pause and then his fingers interlace through yours, the feel of his calloused fingers entwining with yours sends tingles down your spine.

"Tell me"

"I have feelings for you okay. l've fallen for you badly, seeing you with Chrissy made me realise that. So now you know and if you're going to be a dick about it then do it now" your lip wobbles but you refuse to cry again.

He softens and cradles your head in his hands. The gesture is so tender and kind.

"Sweetheart, you're all I think about. Every single day from the moment I wake up until I fall asleep. Only you" he kisses you tenderly and pulls you close to him, kisses you until you're both breathless and smiling goofily at each other.

"I'm so fucking into you sweetheart, one of the things I talked to Chrissy about, if you stuck around long enough to find out"

Now it makes sense why Chrissy asked you earlier if you had talked to Eddie, looked disappointed when you said no, gently urged you to.

"You know he talks about you a lot" Chrissy grinned at you, there's a knowing look in her eyes, yet you shrugged off what she said. Figured that he only talked about how you annoyed him.

Shit you were such an idiot to not see what she really meant. So wrapped up in the idea that it was Chrissy that Eddie was smitten with. Chrissy would never let anyone talk crap about you either, you should have known that.

Eddie rests his head against yours. Kisses it briefly then a cheesy smile forms on his face. "You're crazy about me huh sweetheart?" he teases and you roll your eyes at him.

"Doofus, you're just as crazy about me" he squeezes your hand, tugs you back in for another kiss that robs you if your next words. That's fine, you could argue about that later... much much later.

💞

[amoristt]

This is so self indulgent but Kang dae-ho headcanons about him having a girlfriend that's muscular please! Like, stronger than him type muscular（＾ω＾）

dont ever be scared to be self-indulgent!!!!!!!!!! i LOVE this request bc i am currently in my Muscle(TM) era so this had me like 👉🏽👈🏽 im kinda relating it to real life bc my partner and his friends cant keep up with my leg day LOL

kang dae-ho with a muscular girlfriend

oh my god. this man would be crazy for a woman able to bench him. don't get him wrong- Dae-hoe loves to be the tough guy. the pride he feels from being a marine at his young age, and his passion to keep those around him safe ring true at all angles. he loves to be the protector, and he's got all these self-indulgent daydreams about being That Guy.

but. something about seeing you, with your pretty smile and even prettier laugh, start lifting weights he tops out at for a warm up? it does something to him. it really, really does. he kind of wants you to toss him over your shoulder and squat him.

some guys would be put off knowing their woman could give them as ass whooping, but not Dae-ho, because man does he love when you show it off. arm wrestles, pushup contests, anything. especially if it humbles some jackass. it makes him beam with joy watching his girlfriend kick ass. he's the cheerleader and you're the star quarterback.

he thinks that you're soooo freaking hot. like sometimes he looks at you and can't believe you give him the time of day, let alone let him hang around.

loves your gym outfits. specifically the baggy hoodie, shorts combo. when you send him pics and outfits of the day he eats it UP. thats his mf woman

knowing you're stronger than him doesn't ever stop him from playing tough guy, though. it's in his very DNA. he'd defend john cena if he could. some guy wont leave you alone? he's there ready to throw hands. someone's talking shit about his girl? hell no. meet him outside.

"don't fuck with me, my girlfriend will kick your ass"

you two meet at the gym, naturally. Dae-ho goes pretty regularly on his own but he's the 'head down, heaphones up' kind of gym rat so he never really gave mind to anyone else nearby him. honestly didn't even know you went to his gym until one fateful, fateful day. he's one part of a trio of buddies that day, spending more time chatting and goofing off than actually doing his sets. he's showboating, overloading his plates and damn near throwing his back out more than once. he loads a barbell up with 345lbs onto his shoulders and cranks out a single squat. then two. once he drops down for the third, he locks up. it's then he realizes how many leg days he's skipped. he can't bring himself up right. his friends aren't paying attention and he was an idiot who didn't have a spotter. his options are fall forward, and risk the bar hitting him in the head, or fall backwards and feel the embarrassment of a hundred eyes all on him at once. he's struggling to balance it, every muscle in his body tensing, when suddenly the bar is lifting. he lifts to his feet and there's a set of hands off to his left helping him set the barbell back onto the rack. expecting his friend, he turns and goes to chastise them for not paying attention and helping sooner, but then he see's... you. before he can apologize for talking to you like that, you're already smiling at him and teasing right back. maybe you shouldn't have loaded too much, huh? he's flushing bright red, stammering out a laugh and rubbing the back of his head. you're cute- and your voice is like honey to his ears. his friends are snickering from other machine, watching the entire ordeal, and he feels that flaming blush race down to his neck and chest. he doesn't know it quite yet, but he's smitten. he goes to start peeling the plates off the racked barbell but you stop him. and then, slack jawed and wide eyed, he watches you crank out an entire set. you heave the bar back onto the rack and then, he gets to watch you add MORE weight. he's not even trying to act like he isn't staring, completely gobsmacked. his friends are still horsing around elsewhere and he's stunned into place. you take a sip of water in-between sets and before you can put your headphones back on he can't stop himself from talking to you. he literally isn't even thinking when he catches your attention, feeling shy, but he can't help it. he has to talk to you- that was the coolest shit he's ever seen. its humbled him. changed him. he just watched you squat two of him over your shoulders like it was nothing. he can't even feel his pride take a hit either, he's entranced by you. you both have a great conversation and man, he knew you were cool before, but every time you open you're mouth it just gets better and better. he can't believe he's never noticed you until now. from that point on, he starts to notice whether you're there or not. and he goes crazy out of his way to talk to you- finding little reasons to chat. eventually you start seeking him out too. you ask him to be your spotter one day and he's pretty much head over heels after that. eventually you get each others numbers, then, he pulls the ultimate move. he invites you out to drinking with his friends and you show up but hey, check that out, looks like no one showed up but us! that totally wasn't planned at all, or anything. oh well! you two have a lovely evening together <3

[prettiestofpisces]

I’m so ready for this juju smut

-🎀

JuJu Watkins x Cheerleader

to hold y’all over loll

i tried to incorporate 2 request i got which was more of a submissive juju & ↓

*. * · smut, scissoring

muah 💋

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

your naked frame straddled her and the saliva from each kiss glossed over your soft skin. her hands rested on you ass.

“we’re not supposed to be doing this” you groan, although loving the feeling.

“who gives a fuck?..” she says nonchalantly, words muffled against your skin.

being a cheerleader meant big smiles, tight motions, as well as no fraternizing with the players.

juju being no exception, you in her room doing the unspeakable was more than prohibited.

however she’d been persistent in getting you in her bed to show you a good time and you found it hard to resist.

eyeing you every shot she made, pointing, winking, anything to get your attention.

she’d play with your poms when’s no one was looking, or teased you to cheer for her and her only.

“me, i do, it’s my position on the team, not yours” you scowled.

juju removes her lips from your neck.

“so you want me to stop?” irritation written all on her face.

you looked at her blankly while wrapping your hands around her neck inching in to kiss.

you shook your head coming closer.

“okay then, shut up” she said lazily.

her attitude was abrupt and in disbelief you pushed her back on to the bed forcefully, forgetting to lock lips. still straddling the athlete you place you hands on her chest holding her down.

“don’t fucking talk to me like that..” you snap, juju now looking up to you submissively.

you order her to strip, removing the rest of her clothes hurriedly.

pulling her sweatshirt over her head with ease you helped wiggle off her cargos and panties, her caramel brown skin underneath looked delicious.

“don’t move” you say as you position your bare clit over hers.

slowly rolling your hips diagonally, forwards and backwards you hold yourself up on jujus sculpted stomach and thigh.

you moan lightly as her hands take hold of your waist. fucking yourself harder on her pussy juju assist your hips to better accommodate the both of you.

“mhmm don’t act like you weren’t begging me to be here juju” words becoming harder to form.

she bucks her hips into yours.

“shit this feels good” she groans.

“yeah?” you press, wanting to hear what else slipped out her pretty lips but all she does was nod.

jujus rather quiet and a women of few words, even while fucking the girl of her dreams.

however her eyes which were either watching your tits bounce all around or squeezed shut, indicated just how good it felt to bump pussies.

“fuck i’m close!” you shout.

bringing yourself down to her mouth you kiss juju passionately, moans mixing.

“cum with me baby” you plead against her lips, releasing all over her pussy.

underneath you, you watched her body twitch and tense as she finally orgasmed.

“shit” she cursed once more.

tired you sprawled over jujus limp body, nuzzling your head in her neck.

“i needed this” you lull.

and in turn juju wraps her arms around you.

she began to trace the grooves in your spine ever so lightly,

“i need you” she whispers before dozing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

did we like?!

i’ve been obsessed w juju since she stepped foot in USC too bad i go to such a small D1 college…

i’ve been practicing what to do if a ball hits me in the stands😩

[bellarkeselection]

Hello ! I love your work sm and was wondering if you could maybe possible do a Charles Xavier x reader where the reader is British like him but had lived in France most her life so when she gets angry like in class when teaching the students or just in general with other people and or things she start yelling and insulting in French (reader has ANGER ISSUES) ? If that is to much to ask I understand completely, thank you and I hope you have a great week my lovely xx

The British and French Professor

Hi there, anonymous asker - I’m sorry it took me a while before I got this posted but I hope you enjoy what I have wrote

Some people simply find enjoyment in staying in the state or country they were born in.

Others have this desire to travel the world and see more than what we have been around most of their lives.

And I used to be one of those people that stayed at home until I met Charles Xavier and his beautiful dream that he had for mutants and the rest of the world at Oxford University when I had gotten my dream job to teach as a professor here.

The first time I had left my childhood home in France I had to adjust to many different things, especially switching from my French accent to a British one that my mother had. She taught me all she could but I haven’t been able to not curse in French when I let my anger get the better of me.

Walking into my college classroom I sat my bag down seeing most of my students were already in their seats and ready for our exam that day. Taking out my exam papers I heard one of my students coming up to my desk with a nervous look on her face. “Excuse me, Professor L/n. I was hoping I could be excused from today’s exam cause I didn’t get enough sleep last night.” The girl's name was Penny and she had her blonde hair up in a ponytail.

Holding the exam papers up against my chest so she couldn’t see the questions I sent her a half smile. “You’ve known this exam has been coming up for two weeks now.”

“Professor L/n, I can’t take the exam today because I broke up with my girlfriend and that was really draining for me.” One of the boys that sits next to her came up coming up with a half assed excuse.

Rolling my eyes I glared at him. “That’s not a valid reason to not take this exam, Bryan.”

“But Professor L/n-“

The classroom door got thrown open and I saw one of the cheerleaders running inside the classroom completely dressed in her pajamas. “I totally thought she was joking about us having an exam the day before fall break.”

“Alright that’s enough.” Laying the exams faced down beside my laptop that was sitting on the desk.

Easton, who was a senior who had failed this class two more times rose from his seat, beginning to put on his backpack and leave the room. “I’m out of here. I don’t need to learn about English if I’m going to play in the NFL one day.”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Another boy began to pack his things, making the blood inside of me start to boil.

Slamming my palms down on the wooden desk I raised my voice at the students who were trying to leave the classroom. “Nobody leaves this room unless I say that class is over!”

“But half of them aren’t prepared for class, Professor L/n. Why should we make it where they pass because we came prepared for the exam?” Amy, who was one of my best students, raised her hand getting frustrated with the fact that their good test scores would help out the ones who could care less about trying to take or pass the exam for today.

Running a hand down my face I huffed doing my best to not let my anger take over. Even if this wasn’t the first time we have had this conversation in my class this year. “Amy, you shouldn’t worry about the curve. I will not improve the others' grades considering we have already discussed this.”

“So since we’re having this conversation I’m assuming we aren’t having the exam today. I’ll see you on Monday.” Penny slowly started walking backwards towards the door.

“Vous tous gèlez cet instant ! Je refuse d'avoir cette discussion cette année. Vous devez suivre ce cours, je suis votre professeur, ce qui signifie que vous ferez ce que je dis, ce qui signifie que nous aurons l'examen aujourd'hui et que toute personne qui échouera à l'examen devra écrire un essai pendant la pause qui explique comment vous serez préparé pour notre prochain examen. Est-ce clair pour tout le monde ?” - - - - - ( All of you freeze this instant! I refuse to have this discussion anymore this year. You are required to take this course, I am your professor meaning you will do what I say, so that means we will be having the exam today and anyone who fails the exam will be required to write an essay over break that explains how you will be prepared for our next exam. Is that clear to everyone? )

All my students' eyes were locked onto me after I had stopped shouting in French and a familiar British accent could be heard throughout the classroom. “On that note I’d say Professor L/n isn’t feeling well and needs to step out. My colleague Hank will be protruding your exam and will make sure everyone finishes before they leave.” Charles slowly enters the room with his friend Hank coming in behind him moments later.

Slumping my shoulders, the anger that I was feeling almost went away instantly when I saw his face and those piercing blue eyes. “Charles.”

“Let’s both be done for the day. I think you and your students have been stressed out enough for some time.” The telepathic professor extended his hand out to me waiting for me to give him my hand. Slowly intertwining my hand with his own he led me out of the classroom and grabbed my bag.

Once we were outside I felt my entire body relax with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face simply taking a walk with the man that I loved. Charles found a park bench and we sat down where I laid my head against his shoulder sighing heavily. “I didn’t mean to snap at them. My anger - my anger issues just got the better of me.”

“I know you didn’t mean for that to happen, Y/n. You are one of the greatest people I have ever met. So don’t beat yourself up over what happened in your class a few minutes ago.” Charles tucked some hair behind my ear.

Lifting my head up I gently kissed him, threading my fingers through his long brown hair. “Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you being here for me.”

“I’ll always have my girls back. You are my love, Y/n.” He smiled gently cupping my face in his hands deeply kissing me back where we just enjoyed the peaceful moment together.

[qprstobin]

the scenic route

i saw this post by @henderdads yesterday and started CACKLING at the image of eddie trying to hide from steve only to stumble across the rest of his stalkers fan club, so here it is

Ao3 link

--

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be better than this.

He'd had more than his fair share of ill advised crushes over the years. His middle school science teacher, the entirely too-nice-for-the-popular-crowd head cheerleader, the bartender at the Hideout that he sold coke to on more than one occasion. And yet, here he was. Leering after Steve Harrington.

(Crush was maybe too strong of a word - that would imply he felt any positive emotions towards the man other than carnal lust.)

Every day at work, Eddie told himself he would take the shortest path outside for his smoke break, and every day he ended up taking the scenic route.

It was like he couldn't help himself. He'd shove his hands into his pockets, and meander his way passed the food court, trying his hardest to seem natural as his eyes strayed over to the Scoops Ahoy.

And there he was, Harrington in all his post-popularity glory. Eddie wasn't sure whose bright idea it was to put the Scoops employees in sailor suits, but he wanted to shake their hand. Or slash their tires.

The shorts clung to Harrington's thighs, somehow even thicker than they were when he was still playing sports regularly. The little hat was less flattering, causing his signature hair to fall limp beneath it, but that was fine. Eddie had seen his hair in all its glory more than enough to fill in the blanks.

As he got closer, he could see that Harrington was chatting up a female patron - typical of the high school heartthrob. It sent a pulse of jealousy and disgust through him. Harrington looked up at the girl from under his eyelashes, pulling his pink, glossy lips into a smirk.

The things Eddie would do to that mouth with half a chance.

The girl let out a laugh, turning in a whirl of curls as she giggled with her friends. He would've thought that response was a positive one if Harrington hadn't immediately let his head fall forward with a groan. Robin Buckley, the mousy band geek Gareth was infatuated with last year, popped up from the back room with a white board that seemed to be a record of all of his strikeouts.

Harsh.

Seemed even pretty privileged popular kids had trouble wooing fair maidens sometimes. Who would've thought. A feeling of satisfaction curled in his stomach - both at watching Harrington get put in his place and knowing that he was still painfully single.

He didn't let himself examine why that was.

While watching the interaction, Eddie hadn't realized he had been slowing to a stop. Until Buckley looked his way. Panic surged through him and he dove to the left, towards a gathering of potted ferns that should be leafy enough to hide him and his hair.

There was a snag in that plan - someone was already hiding there.

Eddie stumbled, arms pinwheeling as he tried to stop himself from running over three middle schoolers. Several little hands snagged the front of his shirt, keeping him from pitching backwards and falling on his ass.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ-" he cursed as he wobbled to a stop. He clamped his mouth shut, taking in the three children in front of him.

The two nearest to him were barely holding back giggles, one a boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and the other a redheaded girl who looked like she was trying to judge him but couldn't smother her mirth. Another boy with dark skin and a bandana tied around his head was looking embarrassed, crouching as close as possible to the girl as he could.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Eddie asked, unable to help himself.

"Same thing you are," Red replied with a smirk playing at her lips. He blanched.

"What."

"Eye candy," she said. It was clear what - or rather who she was referring to.

Bandana groaned softly, the embarrassment on his face deepening. Bowl Cut started giggling again. A fern was tickling Eddie's ear, and he desperately wanted to melt into the floor like the ice cream on a Scoops Ahoy cone.

Eddie didn't even bother to deny it. "You're like, 10. Aren't you a bit young for crushes?"

Red gave him an unimpressed stare.

"We're about to start high school, man," Bandana said as he wrinkled his nose. Judgment colored his tone.

"You don't look like the type to normally go for preps. So do you really have a leg to stand on?" she added.

Sheesh, the attitude on these kids.

Eddie refused to give her any ground.

"Also, I don't have a crush - I was dragged here against my will," Bandana continued.

"I can't believe my boyfriend is lying to my face like this."

"Steve's basically our babysitter, that's weird."

"I don't know," Bowl Cut piped up for the first time, "I think crushing on your babysitter is pretty normal."

Eddie's head was spinning as he tried to keep up with the back and forth. Steve Harrington was their babysitter? He pinched the inside of his wrist, convinced this whole situation was a bad trip or a surreal weed dream. It made more sense than a couple of toddlers claiming that Harrington babysat them regularly.

"I don't have a crush on him!"

"Then why do you keep asking him to 'shoot hoops' with you?" Red asked, turning her judgmental haze onto her sweating boyfriend.

"You know I'm thinking about trying out for basketball next year," Bandana said with an almost pretentious air. "I need all the practice I can get!"

"I didn't know getting smacked in the face with the ball when Steve takes off his shirt counted as practice," Bowl Cut said, a deceptively sweet smile on his face as he drove a dagger into his friend's back.

"DUDE!"

Bowl Cut and Red shushed him, tiny hands flying to cover Bandana's mouth. Eddie reflexively peeked through the fronds, checking to make sure the object of their well - their object hadn't noticed them.

(He hesitated to call him the object of their lust because the three in front of him were literally babies, but he refused to use the word affection in the same sentence as Harrington. Even if this entire conversation was throwing his carefully crafted view of the man through a loop.)

It was fine, though. Harrington and Buckley were wrapped up in their own world, chatting back and forth. If he had a heart he might even say they looked good together. Eddie's eyes strayed towards Harrington's fingers as he twirled his scooper in his hand.

He wanted to shove them in his mouth-

Not the time.

By the time he tuned back into the infants' conversation, Bandana was sulking. Clearly, he had lost, especially with how smug both Red and Bowl Cut looked. Red had even pulled out a little snack packet that she was triumphantly munching on.

"You brought snacks?" Eddie sputtered out, not sure if he was impressed or put out by the sheer balls on this little girl.

"Uh, yeah? Food court food is expensive," she said like it was a no brainer.

The balls, man.

He kinda wanted to be her when he grew up.

"Let me get this straight, you brought snacks along while you stalk your babysitter?" he asked anyway.

"I get hungry," Red said. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and pulled out another snack pack, throwing it at him. It smacked him in the face, but he managed to catch it before it hit the ground. "You're welcome."

"Thanks?" he replied automatically.

This may as well happen.

She distributed two more snack packs to her friend and her boyfriend, and the three returned to peering at Harrington through the ferns. Eddie just stared at them, once again feeling like he must have fallen into a different universe.

This whole thing was getting to be too much for him. His knees and thighs were starting to ache, and not for any particularly pleasant reason. He didn't want to know how long he had been crouched back here.

He needed to get out of here before he reached his limit. His boss may give him a lot of leeway, but he didn't want to keep pushing his luck hanging out in the food court for the rest of the day, babysitting Steve fucking Harrington's children.

Even if the view was pretty good.

"Well, this has been fun, but I need a smoke," he said finally. The three barely spared him a glance. Figuring that they were done with him, and because he didn't know how to leave well enough alone. "I'll leave you to your... stalking."

"Same time tomorrow?" Bowl Cut asked, turning that shy but cheeky grin onto him, revealing that not only had they done this before, but that they had seen Eddie here before.

Fuck. His face was turning red.

"Don't plan on it," he scoffed. The trio spared him disbelieving glances, but let him rock to his feet and start walking away without another word.

They all knew he'd be taking the scenic route again tomorrow.

[poughkeepsies]

'the cheerleader is ass backwards' is a new level of audacity from this damn show I'm crying

[joshslater]

Granny’s Will

A rewrite of JD's story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

"You should stay away from him," she hissed in a low voice. I turned my head towards Cody's creepy granny and saw her leaning my way. "What?" I answered, not understanding what she meant. "Tell Cody you don't love him. You were only with him for the sex, but now understand how shallow you are. Tell him you are not good enough for him, clearly. You're also not good for him. He's just so full of disgusting thoughts now. Soon his grades are going to suffer. You're like a parasite, pumping him full of poison."

Her voice went harsher the further she went on. I just stared into my empty plate wondering if she was for real. If she would end the tirade with a "j/k lol", but I hadn't heard a single joke from her all evening. "I'm..." I started, unsure what to say. It was just so unhinged, like a rambling better suited a century ago.

"Should I get the desert?" Cody asked, returning from his bathroom break, and clearly not reading the mood of the room. We made a good couple on campus. He was the captain of the Lacrosse team, and supplemented his hard training on the team with some extra gym time to have a fitness magazine cover toned body. I was on the cheerleader team with body of a nymph. All rack and ass, long smooth, tanned legs, and tall enough to kiss him without standing on my toes. I decided to give my response to his granny right away, and left my chair to join him. "It's already here," I said and kissed him on the mouth. Not a quick kiss either, but with tongue and passion. With my tongue still in him I turned him around so I could see his grandmother. She looked pissed and her saggy face had turned red. Good. I locked eyes with her and gave her the finger behind Cody's back. Her eyes were turning red too. And glowed.

There was a sharp slap in my face, as if someone hit me with an open palm, and I felt a shock of pain through my entire body. I was thrown backward and fell, or perhaps rather forcefully pushed down, crashing into a bed. All pain was immediately gone and I was lying on my back in a silent and dim room. Faint sunlight glowed through the drawn curtains.

My thoughts were a jumble. While I didn't feel cold, I was naked and the sheets were damp with sweat. I leaned up, my eyes still adjusting to the lack of light, and saw a room I hadn't seen before. At the same time it was a kind of room I knew very well. Beat up weight bench, piles of laundry, X-box under the TV, and fit babes showing lots of skin on posters on the walls. Your standard sports jock room. Also filling the room was the dank smell of sweaty dude I also knew very well, and never liked when visiting the guys on the team for some... at home exercise.

"No fuckin' way…" I muttered, grabbing my throat hearing the deep mumble that escaped my lips. I felt the thick bulge in my neck, then stripped the sheets off me to see a massive, bulky body that wasn’t mine! “FUUUUUCK!” I shouted, jumping out of bed and hurling my beefy self to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door.

Staring back at me was a tall, tanned, and incredibly ripped jock, the epitome of a dumb fratboy. Handsome but dickish face framed by unruly curls. Wide, hefty rounded shoulders, pecs that bounced and flexed at even the slightest move, jutting out from my brawny chest. A killer 6 pack, shredded from practice, and the V-line of a god leading down to a big bulge in the trunks. My trunks. I turned to look at my back and suddenly the vision of my cheerleading friends giggling about “jockbutts” as we watched the guys play came to mind. Athletic, striated thighs and calves like footballs completed the look before ending in pair of big sweaty feet. The tongue of my kicks just by the door told me they were size 15. Dude, ya know what they say about big feet? Totally true, yo! I was starting to bone up just looking at myself, filling out the trunks! Wait till the chicks see me! WAIT! NO! Chicks?! I mean, my Bros… Nah, fuck dude why would they care? They’re just as swole! uuuuugh… my head….

I staggered from the mirror and fell back on the bed. What the fuck had just happened? My head was pounding and my stomach growling. I knew this was Cody's granny's fault, somehow, but spending any more time in this rank room wouldn't solve anything, and to leave I needed something more than the loose, grey trunks I was currently wearing. The room was a mess, but inside the wide open wardrobes I only saw winter clothes. I grabbed a pair of basket shorts from the floor next to the bed and put them on, and their pair of socks from the floor under the shorts. Just as I was about to open the door I also decided to step into the sneakers.

The house was foreign to me, but lots of the decorations and furnishings were familiar. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where my mother was making breakfast as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She offered me second helpings of everything, complained that I was eating her out of the house, and told me I needed to shower before heading to school. I tried to argue that I was going to the gym with Cody after school, but she firmly told me that wouldn't be of any help to anyone who had to sit near me. It was only after I was in the shower I realized I somehow knew my schedule for the day. What was going on?

The house was in the old suburb the city had turned into a rent-controlled zone. All the buildings looked much more dilapidated here compared to our real house, but the upshot was that the school was within walking distance. As I was short on time I threw on the same clothes and a sweatshirt, grabbed the backpack, and started to jog there. Halfway to school Cody's granny suddenly stepped out of nowhere just in front of me. "One week," she said.

"What the fuck is going on?" I said, still not used to hearing my deep voice. "You have one week to show you can control that lustful body of yours. If your dick squirts a single drop of your disgusting ball phlegm you'll be stuck like this where you can't hurt him," she said in her shrill voice and poked my chest with her nail.

Just as suddenly as she appeared she was gone, and I felt a chill down my spine to my balls. I'd never felt a sensation like that before, but then I'd been a dude for like an hour. It was like you needed to pee, but different, and I could feel my recent dick stiffening again. Obviously the old crow had gifted me with a horniness attack as a parting gift. It was almost physically painful to not touch my junk and rub one out right then and there. The remainder of the way to school was agony as I jogged past worn-down houses built for Korean war vets back when, with MILFs getting in their cars to get to work. Occasionally a car with a babe from school would zip by, and when Riley from my class waved I was so close to bust a nut. I don't think it was the actual jog that made me arrive at school all sweaty and smelly.

School was weird. Obviously I knew everyone in class, but somehow it wasn't a shock to them that I was suddenly this muscular jock. My usual spot had been moved to back in the room, and the teachers weren't really paying much of any attention to me. Which was probably a good thing, because man did I have a lot of issues to deal with. Who designed these desks? They were way too small to sit straight in. I found the only bearable way to sit in them was to slouch, legs spread apart to not slide off the seat. That however made a full display of my erratic boner. If I focused on what the teacher tried to tell us I could take attention away from my horny dick long enough for it to get soft, but as soon as one of the girls answered a question I could do nothing but stare at their back and remember from PE how they looked naked. Queue tenting and feeble attempts to cover it up.

I squirmed and sweated my way through the classes, half the time thinking a sweatshirt was the worst decision with how clammy I was and half the time thinking what a masterstroke it was to hide in it. I was close to losing it during lunch. You might think that just putting more people in a room wouldn't be an issue. You can only have so many people in your field of view after all, and the ratio of hot to average people is the same. But somehow the average-looking people melt away and your eyes keep darting between the super hot people, most of which I'd showered with at cheerleading practice. I did my best to keep focus on the food, and it kind of helped because as soon as I started eating I realized how hungry I was.

Time dragged on during the afternoon, and I did my best to stay unfocused. Listen to the teacher, but zone out from class interactions and certainly everyone in class, and above all don't think of your own body and how it feels. Most teachers left me alone, and the one that didn't I managed to give an answer that satisfied him enough that I wasn't totally asleep.

After school Cody and I went to the gym. I somehow knew that we usually did that on the days with no lacrosse practice, which was kind of unsettling to me. How much else of my mind and my memories had his grandmother soiled? It was nice to finally be alone with Cody, but he was acting quite different than he used to around me. I was after all just a teammate now, albeit someone he was friendly enough with to be his gym buddy. He seemed chattier and less guarded than I've ever known him. Lots of talk bout the cheerleading team and babes in general, which I did my best to deflect. We changed into our gym clothes, for me a grey tank top and shorts with a printed sunset on, and went to work. I was again shocked that I knew things I didn't know before, like how to use the gym equipment and spot for Cody. He for his part continued to talk about girls, and that's when it hit me, as I saw ourselves in a mirror wall. He was trying to impress me. Despite him being the captain, he clearly saw me as the top dawg, at least regarding girls and sex. The player among his peers.

As unsettling as some of the revelations at the gym had been, at the end, once I got Cody to focus on the exercises, it felt cleansing to work as hard as possible. It was like all of the sexual buildup over the day got released and replaced with glowing muscles. Most of it anyway. Walking back home from the gym alone with my thoughts I was confused with how the day had ended. Not only was I still with Cody, but I had somehow become his best buddy. It was bewildering why his granny had made that change, but I was grateful for it. Above all though it felt like I had a shot. I could survive one week of this and come out better for it.

Immediately as I stepped into the mess that was my room I wasn't so sure anymore. The walls were filled with scantily clad women, just at the line of what is acceptable to sell to students. Pop stars, actresses, and photo models. But worse than that was the smell. That jock room smell, heated by sunlight all day. Even before this transformation nonsense I would associate it with sex, though from an entirely different point of view. I could feel the horniness coming crashing in fast and rushed to the bathroom for another shower, a colder one.

I spent all the time between dinner and bedtime playing on the X-box, trying to avoid thinking about anything but the game. Several times during the games I caught myself joining in with all the sexist shit my teammates kept saying over the voice chat. It wasn't that it got me hard again, but it did make me worry about how easily bro speak kept creeping in.

The boner I woke up to was almost painful. The room was warm, I was hot, and my dick strained the fabric of the trunks I had gone to bed with. Barely awake my right hand almost automatically started to slowly grab and rub my hot rod when all of a sudden the last clouds of sleep vanished and in panic I realized what I was dangerously close to do. I jumped out of bed, rushed into the shower, and had another close call before I lowered the temperature. I needed to come up with some sort of plan to survive this week.

I threw together a shitty lunch box, protein bars and fruit, so I could avoid the school cafeteria. I put on a cut-off T to not melt in the classroom, and compression shorts as underwear in the hope of keeping that troublesome dick in place. I brought the tangled mess of headphones with me so I could tune out the class and focus on the book and the board. I was determined to not fail.

The day started out fine, though Mr. Carlton in English objected to me wearing the headphones. I told him to back off for one week, as I was on my period. The rest of the class laughed, he blushed, and left the matter. Honestly I scared myself again with that response as I kept having these short moments when I didn't act like myself, but like this douchy frat dude.

At lunchtime I was starting to feel real horny again. If not for the compression shorts under my loose basket shorts I would be visibly tenting. I went to the stadium to get away from everyone and do a few laps in the hope that physical exercise would keep the libido in check, like what happened when I worked out with Cody. Just as I had hoped the area was deserted. No one else was dumb enough to be out on the track at midday in this hot weather. I wanted to get two or four laps in, to get 800 or 1600 meters, but it was too hot. After one lap I could feel the sweat running down my back. Instead I ended up cooling my dick in the drinking fountain by the bleachers to numb it a bit, downed half a gallon of water, and ate my packed lunch.

It felt like things were going downhill from there. Jessica kept staring at me during US history and then invited herself to team up with me during chemistry. It was like she didn't care I had practically soaked my shirt during lunch. It took me longer than I want to admit, and a fragrant lab with ammonium chloride, to realize that perhaps she reacted the way she did because of how I smelled and not despite it. Of course that witch must have done something with my pheromones, if that wasn't new-age bullshit. That meant I would have to keep my distance from girls too, because no way her magic worked one way.

Thankfully next on the schedule was Lacrosse training with Cody and the team. I knew all these guys since I started cheerleading, some longer, but this was way different. I was one of them, moreover one they looked up to almost as much as Cody. I ought to have been harder than ever getting into gear with all those muscled bodies, but I barely rocked a semi. Though to be fair I was probably the best looking guy of the bunch. All those thoughts just vanished as soon as we entered the field. It was just me, the team, the coach, and the game.

I don't think I can put in words how exhilarating it was to not think of anything but what was happening right there and then. Time just rushed me by and we were heading back to the locker room again. Cody made sure to walk just next to me, patting my shoulder, and telling me how great it had been. He was right.

We talked about what had gone well, what we needed to improve, how Alex had screwed up all his passes, how Lauren from the cheerleader squad had looked at me throughout practice, how Cody's group project in Spanish was falling apart, what games I had been playing last night. Not until we stepped into the showers did it hit me that this was all wrong. I was his girlfriend, not his mate. I don't know if he noticed any shift in my demeanor, because as I was lost in those thoughts he began staring at me. "Fuck, you really are hung as a donkey" he said, and I looked down at my soapy hand absentmindedly jerking my fully erect dick off. Fuck! I stopped immediately. "Keep at it, bro. Looks like you need it. Why's everyone so quiet?" he said and left the showers. I realized we were the only ones left, though we had been the last ones back into the locker room from the field.

The showers only had one setting, lukewarm, so I couldn't go for a cold shower. I desperately needed one, apparently. I hadn't even noticed what I was doing before Cody rescued me, and I wasn't even through the second day. I quickly rinsed off the soap, made hasty work with the towel, and returned to the locker room.

"Looks like someone is ready," a smirking Lauren said from across the empty locker room. I was too surprised to hide anything with the towel in my hand. I stood frozen, like a deer in headlights, completely naked, and with a raging hardon. "I asked everyone if we could have a moment," she continued. She was wearing the white sneakers, the knee-high socks, and the cheerleading skirt from our uniform, but was topless. Her beautiful sand blonde, wavey hair reached down to her perky, round breasts. I had always been envious of that hair, but it was the boobs, jiggling as she approached me, that kept my attention. I could feel hormones rush into all the primate parts of my body while I stood still. She kept getting closer until at last her chest touched mine. It was like something snapped inside me, like a glass ampoule in a glow stick, that couldn't be put back. I grabbed her and kissed her, long and deep. To hell with Cody's granny's witch games. She did this, so she can undo it. I just needed to empty my balls into this slut. She wasn't wearing her spankies and I knew for a fact she was on her pills, so we were almost instantly on my towel on the bench with her legs over my shoulders, squeezing my fuck stick.

It was everything I had hoped for, though probably much quicker than she had hoped for, when my shattering orgasm came. Whoever said girls' orgasms were better had never tried out this body. Fucking hell how good it felt filling the bitch up. She was still smirking when I pulled out my dick and leaked our smoothie blend on my towel. "Now be a slutty boy and keep the rest of the chicks off Cody," she said, eyes glowing red.

[911tvshowpolls]

911 TV Show: S8E4 Funny Lines

The opening disaster arc of 911 is now officially complete and this week we were able to watch episode 4!

Since not everyone is able to watch the episode the day of, this poll will stay up for one week.

PLease reblog to spread this poll far and wide in the 911 fandom!

[writefinch]

Cheerleader Ransom, Pt.4 (CN: noncon, bondage, anal, enemas, rimming)

'Look at that, ain't it peachy?'

The camera went in and out of focus, whip-marred buttocks pried apart by hairy sausage-link fingers, skin so pale it cast a halo of glare where her flesh ended and the rough digits began. Her asshole was in the center of the shot, pink and puckered and slick with lube; beneath it her pussy had been crudely sealed over with duct tape. As the shot zoomed out, the marks and bruises of the previous days' trials appeared on her skin; any hope that this might be anyone other than Robert's own daughter on the screen disappeared.

The cameraman panned up and the leader of the kidnappers stepped into frame. 'Well, Robert, I was gonna say that if you'd paid up yesterday you'd have saved at least one of your little girl's virgin holes, but honestly, with the way it's been winking up at us I don't think we'd have been able to restrain ourselves either way.'

A breathy, pained noise came from below. Hannah was lying on her belly, both arms tied behind her back, strapped together at the wrists and at the elbow., Her right leg was bent backwards so far that her heel was over the small of her back, held in place by a length of rope that had been tied around her ankle at one end and to the back of her leather collar at the other. The rope forced her to arch her back severely to keep her collar from choking her, an asymmetry which looked distinctly uncomfortable.

'Don't worry about us getting our dicks dirty in her ass, we hung her up by her ankles this morning and gave her a couple of half-gallon enemas. She whined about the cramping but by the end she was clean enough to drink out of. In fact, after a little talk with Sparky, she even volunteered to prove it! She threw it straight back up afterwards but I gotta tell you it was pretty hot, don't worry we've got it all on video, we'll send you a special features cut in a couple of days.'

He knelt down next to Hannah, his cock glistening with grease and looking harder than flesh had any right to look. Robert would have thought it too big to possibly fit inside his daughter had he not seen ample proof otherwise over the past several days. She squirmed as the man straddled her leg, and froze when the head pressed against her hole. The kidnapper sucked air through his teeth. 'It always hurts them more when they tense up and try to fight it,' he said, 'but it makes them so much tighter!'

He dropped his weight, her ring yielded to the pressure and the head slipped inside. She howled and she thrashed and the thrashing pulled her collar tight enough to choke her and by the time she knew which way was up the man had wedged half of his eight-inch cock up her asshole. The previous rapes had a frenetic velocity to them, the men had barely wetted their dicks in her cunt and mouth before humping away at top speed, but her tightness and the awkwardness of the position meant that this violation was horribly slow in comparison. There would not be the easy relief of a sudden climax this time, it would be hundreds of jerky, halting thrusts before the man reached the drilling pace that would get him off. The other men seemed to have a sense of this; it wasn't until the chief kidnapper had worked up a good pace and a good sweat that one of the others stuffed his half-erect cock between Hannah's trembling lips.

The mic picked up at once too much sound and too little of it, the gluck-gluck-gluck of facefucking syncopated with the rhythmic slapping of hips against her butt flattening out every other muttered taunt from the kidnapper. '--fucking whore--doesn't--a shit about you--ruin you--if you don't--really fucking hurt you--'

The man raised his voice and hand and the cameraman walked round to capture the rape from behind and up-close so that the crack of her ass took up the middle third of the frame. The mic picked up the gutteral noise of a man spitting on a woman's face as the pace of the fucking went frenetic, a second later the kidnapper pulled his cock out in a fluid movement, her asshole gaping open raw and pink and wide as a silver dollar, quivering and twitching for a second before the cock shot out a rope of sperm directly into the hole, and another and another until he squeezed out the last drops onto her almost-closed anus. He had barely stepped aside when the next man stepped into place and sunk his cock into the girl, and as the camera panned up it revealed another three men in front of her cramming their cocks into her mouth in turn. The men up front grabbed the rope between her ankle and collar and pulled it forward, forcing her head forward onto their dicks to relieve the torturous strain on her leg and hips. They did not pace themselves, one man climaxing in her mouth only to be replaced by another moments later, and the man raping her asshole pulled out to cum over her face as she hacked up sperm onto the mattress below.

She passed out after being sodomized another two times, the men up front begrudingly giving her a break as they held ammonia salts under her nostrils. Her spastic jerks helped the men using her ass get off faster, but they kept having to slap her cheeks to make her open her mouth long enough to orally rape her. The facefucks became more cautious as she passed out a second and a third time, unable to take in enough oxygen between the strangling from the collar and the choking from the cocks, and once ten men had fucked her asshole the strain of the collar alone was too much for her to bear even without a dick in her mouth. The kidnappers relented, removing the rope between her ankle and neck and rolling her onto her back.

Before Hannah could take more than a handful of shaky breaths, the female kidnapper, Sparky, stood over her. She brandished a cattle prod, hiked down her cargo pants at the back just far enough to expose her buttocks, and sat on the girl's face. Hannah whined as a sweaty asshole pressed itself against her lips. Hannah howled as the cattle prod flash-fried her nipple. The woman bore her weight down, Hannah hyperventilated. Sparky held up the prod and let it crackle in the air; Hannah stuck her tongue out and licked. More men raped her through her crash-course in rimming as Sparky instructed her through clipped words and high voltage the finer points of licking, smooching, sucking and tongue-fucking her hole, and every time a man finished Sparky would dismount so that Hannah could show her gratitude by lapping the sweat from each man's ass in turn.

Half the men had fucked her already and wanted sucking hard before raping her again, so she was dragged upright into a better position to blow each of them, forced on top of a man to ride him cowgirl-style while the men used her blonde hair as a crude facefuck-handle. They played thumping, bassy music and told her to fuck to the beat, two men standing behind her to whip her back with leather belts when she failed to slam her ass down on the man's hips to the rhythm. Hannah's whole back was a mess of pink stripes going on red before she collapsed, legs jelly, too weak to beg.

The camera zoomed in on Hannah's face, pressed into the groin of one of the men, his balls on her chin and her forehead molded into his beer gut. After a few deep, grinding thrusts the man pulled his dick out of her throat, covered in a thick layer of bubbly white slobber and throat-slop that formed a drooping bridge between his glans and her lips. His cock twitched, nailing the her on the nose with a jet of cum as she whimpered and snuffled.

'Nice shot,' the head kidnapper said. 'Alright boys, enough with this softcore Skinemax shit. Robert, it's time to make a woman out of your little girl.'

The camera was placed on the floor, facing up at the metal struts of the warehouse ceiling. From off-screen there was laughter and a yelp of pain. A moment later, Hannah was carried into frame by a particularly muscular and well-endowed kidnapper. He had her folded in half in a modified Full-Nelson hold, his elbows hooked under her knees and his fingers interlaced behind her neck, holding her up with her back to his belly. Sparky's gloved hands came into the shot, coating the man's prodigious tool with lube before stuffing the head into Hannah's asshole.

Before Hannah could do anything more than flail her ankles and gurgle in discomfort a second, equally-massive man approached from the front. He took his cock and pressed it against her hole, forcing it in alongside the other man's member. Her attempt to scream sounded more like a whooping cough, all the necessary air forced out by the mass of the two brutish men either side of her. From below, all that could be seen were her twitching legs and the two shafts going deeper inside her. Her struggles intensified, the tendons in her hamstrings flexing briefly as she tried hopelessly to free herself, and then she went limp. The men sawed in and out, one thrusting deep as the other pulled back in turn. Her protests had been reduced to soft little grunts, barely audible over the rhythmic slapping of flesh.

There was some muttering back and forth, followed by the quiet of intense concentration. Both men pulled out to the halfway mark before thrusting in simultaneously, squeezing Hannah between them as they pulled her as far down onto their cocks as she could go. She made a noise like a death rattle. They held her in place for a few seconds before both pulling out completely, Sparky's hand shot out holding a plastic ruler, measuring Hannah's gaping asshole from rim to rim.

'One-and-a-half, nearly two inches. Damn it Robert, I thought cheerleaders were supposed to be flexible? Did you bribe the coach to get her on the team? Is that where our money went?' Their leader sighed. 'I guess we're cleaning up your messes again. Come on boys, let's show this bitch some deep stretches.'

They dropped Hannah onto the mattress. Two different men began double-raping her, face-to-face with the man underneath her while the other rutted into her like a dog. After a few minutes of pounding they swapped out for another pair, but not before measuring her gape. Twenty-five men raped her this way, with one particularly wiry trio negotiating all three of their dicks into her hole at once. The biggest duo stretched her gape to three-and-a-quarter inches; they were awarded with back-slaps and tallboys. They dragged her to her knees and held up her arm like a winner on the podium, and poured the dregs of beer over her head.

As they forced her to suck their cocks clean, the leader stepped in front of the camera and blocked the view. He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. 'That's all three holes, Robert,' he said, over the sounds of gagging. 'You're as good at protecting your daughter's virtues as you are at protecting our investments. Look pal, I'll do my best but you're really on a time crunch now, okay? I'll have to think of some inventive ways to keep her entertaining my boys or they'll get bored, and if they get bored…' He paused just long enough for the microphone to pick up the sound of Hannah vomiting cum through her nose, and shook his head. 'Get us our money, Robert. Girls don't last long when they're boring.'

He stepped out of frame. The camera caught the image of Sparky, her fist wrist-deep in Hannah's asshole, and cut to black.

[sortasirius]

“The cheerleader is ass-backwards.”

[inkstainedheartbeats]

Part Two of Wayne Munson’s Very Bad No Good Repeating Week.

—//—//—//—

He wakes to Duncan kicking the chair he’s sitting in. His head hits the table, knocking him out of his doze. The other Beta grins at him cheekily.

"Come on, old man, don’t want the brass catching you snoozing,” Duncan teases.

“Old man my ass. I’m only two months older than you,” Wayne quips back, the words leaving him without his consent. He doesn't get up though. Lets the pins and needles run ragged through his bones as he stares at his hands.

"You okay, Wayne?"

"Just fighting a bout of deja vu," Wayne settles on, finally standing. Follows Duncan out of the room.

He yanks Samson out of the way when the pipe spits steam, he tries to warns Duncan that his machine is about to kick up a fuss. Changes small details of his day just to get rid of the fucking deja vu. He still gets off his double to a home housing a dead cheerleader.

Still spends a week looking for his boy. Still ends it with defaced posters and a new found hate for most of the people in this goddamn town. Dustin still approaches him with a limp. He goes home.

//--//--//

Duncan kicks the chair he’s sitting in. His head hits the table, knocking him out of his doze. The other Beta grins at him cheekily.

"Come on, old man, don’t want the brass catching you snoozing,” Duncan teases.

Wayne stares at him. Swallows thickly. There are words that try to force themselves out of his mouth because he likes the way the other Beta laughs when he snarks. This is the fourth time he's woken to a knock on his head.

"Wayne?"

The scent of concern is thick in the air and the sound of it in Duncan's voice. A hand rests on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Pins and needles run ragged through his bones as he stares at the hand. Clears his throat.

"Just fighting a bout of deja vu," Wayne states finally, standing up. Follows Duncan out of the break room.

His head pounds as he and Duncan mingle with everyone else coming off their break. Samson is shoving George's shoulder. He wanders too close to a section of wall. For a moment he thinks about letting the new hire learn the lesson all of them have. Pipes can be tempermental. And then he remembers how bad the burn had been the first time around. Slow on the draw Wayne ends up the one burned. His arm stinging like a bitch as he goes to his machine. He forgets about Duncan until the man lets out a frightened yell, his machine clunking and clacking ominously before settling down but it startles Wayne into stepping backwards amd hurting the shit out of his back. The day is a mess, his first shift gone to shit.

"Why don't you go home? You can pull a double tomorrow," Joe says. The man is an Alpha, often times barking orders like one of them fancy chefs. But he's timid and tired when he approaches Wayne. And well, Wayne ain't about to say no right now.

Wayne's never understood too much about the game that his boy plays; but he knows the schedule to it like he knows his own work one. Tonight's the Super Bowl of the game, and it should be letting out soon. Or maybe it already has. He drives home, arm still burning, back still smarting, hoping that instead of a dead cheerleader he'll come home to his nephew crowing about what the others did. Parking his truck sends shivers down his spine. Ain't no faceless monsters here. Just his boy and maybe a cheerleader. Hopefully alive. Please be alive. Lights are on. The little red head from across the way is out on the porch, he waves to her. She doesn't wave back.

There's a dead cheerleader in his front room. His nephew is no where to be found. She's still warm, the floral scent that must be hers slowly decaying in his nose. Calls the cops.

He ain't allowed to stay. Wasn't the other times either. But they let him pack a bag those times, let him sit and smoke. Gave him time to talk to the reporter lady. That doesn't happen this time. A bag is packed and he's shipped off.

Sitting on the lumpy bed of the shitty hotel room he's booked for the night he starts calling numbers he's memorized.

Starts with Gareth because there was a time that he thought his nephew was courting the lone Omega in the band. SallyMae ain't too pleased with him calling this late. But she's sweet as apple pie when he tells her why. Single parents stick together and worry for one is worry for another. Eddie ain't with her. Jeff is over though.

"Ain't he the sweetest?" SallyMae asks in a hushed whisper. There's hope in her tone that at least one of her children will find love. She named all three of them knightly names hoping that with a better name they'll have a better life. He doesn't ever voice to the Omega woman that he doesn't think the name she has had anything to do with her first husband being a cheating bastard or her second dying of cancer.

"He is," Wayne agrees.

Eddie ain't in the habit of being at his friends houses without them there but the Heldmen's have a way of adopting you into their family that not even he is immune to. Wesley is the one who answers the phone.

"He's not here, Wayne. Is something wrong?"

"Something happened at home, something bad enough he spooked and I had to call the cops."

Ain't sure he's allowed to tell them that Chrissy Cunningham is dead. Doesn't feel right. But Wesley is a sharp Beta. Can understand what Wayne isn't saying.

"If he comes around we'll keep him safe."

He calls up Alistair's parents next. The madness that is that house almost drowns out Emily's voice. His boy ain't there either.

Almost dials the number the Chief gave him long ago. Back when the Chief was a lumbering Beta of a man that let Eddie go with a slap of the wrist. Powell isn't a bad Chief. Inexperienced and grieving but not a bad Chief. Still, Wayne can't help but to miss Jim.

Sleep don't come easy to him. It's too quite here. Hawkins isn't a big town. Without the mall there ain't much to draw people to them. He's pretty sure that he's the only one in this hotel. It makes his stomach churn. He's up before he should be.

They don't let him back into the trailer park when he swings by there. He doesn't expect them to but a fool only hopes and never tries. And while Wayne may be a fool about many things he won't be one about his boy. From where he sits in the truck listening as the deputy explains just why Wayne can't come in he spots the reporter lady and a friend walking around. The friend looks familiar but Wayn's mind is too tired to call a name forward.

Feels useless. Adrift. His boy is missing and this ain't like the nightmare. Like the cloying, suffocating Deja vu he's been feeling. Swallows thickly as he gets out of his truck. Tired mind leading him to the diner that popped up after Benny died. He doesn't go in the morning very often. Prefers to go straight home even if his boy is still sleeping. The fear of one of Frankie's old associates finding them, finding Eddie and getting their pound of flesh from his nephew hasn't gone away even with the years that have passed. People stare at him as he enters. News of Chrissy's death playing on the TV. Still Duncan and George Benson call him over to their table.

"Your boy okay?" Duncan asks as soon as he's sitting. George is glaring at someone over Wayne's shoulder.

"Don't know. He spooked. Not that I can blame him."

"Bet you dollars to donuts they're going to try to pin this on your boy," George growls.

He's an Alpha, twice married with a kid from the first wife and none from the second. His current wife is a teacher at the elementary school. Married up as some of the folk at the plant like to tease. Marie comes from 'money' unlike George. Wayne grunts his agreement. If an obvious answer to the crime isn't found the easiest one is a poor boy did it.

"Hey, George, your kid still on the paper?"

Coffee, decafe from the smell of it, is slid in front of him. He takes a sip, fighting back a scowl at the taste.

"Sure is," George says, chest puffing out in pride before he eyes Wayne in playful suspicion, "why?"

While some Alphas would be ashamed of having an Omega son, George took pride in it. While some men would take issue with their sons being smart and leaning into the 'softer' hobbies like writing George encouraged. All in all it made Wayne feel a bit better, shoving the nightmare, the coming doom like a tidal wave, into the back of his mind. He's been pulling too many double and triple shifts that's all.

"Think I saw him and a friend sniffing around the trailer park. Sets my mind to rest knowing your boy won't let them talk shit about Eddie undisputed."

Fred and Eddie weren't friends. Hell at the company parties the plant threw you could barely get the two to sit together. But before George had Marie, him and Fred lived in Forest Hills. Before a cozy single story house they had a double wide. There's kinship there.

Conversation is had, rambling, been up to goddamn long exhaustion talk, that has Duncan throwing back his head in laughter. The need to get up and move gnaws at him. His boy is missing. Finishes the dredges of decafe, shoves the last bite of food Duncan had forced on him into his mouth before slapping his knees.

"I gotta go."

Duncan seems to pout for a second before nodding.

"Your boy has band practice today don't he with that band of his?"

George is nodding.

"Collapsing Casket," he says with such certainty that Wayne laughs.

"Corroded Coffin, but close enough. I think he does. Hopefully he's there and I can get some rest before shift."

"Don't be stupid. Ain't no way Joe is going to let you work with your nephew missing."

He hadn't in the nightmare, in the lurking deja vu and Wayne wasn't planning on going to work. Just didn't feel like saying after going to SallyMae's he was gonna swing up to Rick's. Worst kept secret of the plant's work force that Rick dealt. That Rick had Eddie dealing. Bills need to be paid for a dealer Rick was fair. Often gave the chronic pain havers weed. But worst kept secret or not announcing that in a crowded diner feels like inviting trouble.

"Be safe," Duncan says, hand grabbing Wayne's arm at the last second, "don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," Wayne promises.

SallyMae opens the door and for a moment he thinks he's going to have to defend his boy. She's got an ugly look on her face that he doesn't think he's ever seen before. Not even when dealing with her first husband. He opens his mouth just in time for her to deflate.

"Oh thank goodness it's you. Eddie hasn't been around. I've been on the lookout. If even half of what they're saying is true about that girl I just know that he's scared stiff."

She's clutching his arm like she can seat her sincerity into him by that touch alone. Her eldest, a fierce Beta, is standing behind her ma baseball bat in hand. He can't believe that people are already hassling them. He can believe. Remembers the mob. Remembers the posters. Mentally shakes the thoughts away. Ain't real. This is real. He's going to get to his boy.

"Thank you."

"Always, Wayne. You helped me more than I can say with my brood, it's the least I can do."

Bids her and Guinevere goodbye. All but vibrating in his skin as he gets back into his truck. Rick's in jail, Wayne knows that, but he also knows that Rick and Eddie have a… frankly weird ass friendship that Wayne isn't sure he likes. However, thanks to that friendship Wayne has a place to look.

He passes a maroon Beamer parked in front of Melvad's which hasn't felt the same since Joyce moved away. It's dark when he gets there. There's a chill in the air that has Wayne shivering as he hunts down a flashlight. Tends to keep two to three in here cause his night vision is getting to be shit without steady light. He doesn't call out, not at first. The beam of light sweeps the ground. He scents the air, deep inhales and trying to separate smells. There's earth and leaves, typical forest smells, there's a spicy sweet Beta scent, he thinks he gets a whiff of the red head from the trailer park and two other strange scents. And there underneath it all is Eddie, Alpha and leather and sugar sweet. The trail leads to the boat house.

"Eds? Kiddo it's me."

His voice echoes in the night but two arms wrap around in dark. They shake and quiver. His boy is alive in his arms. Blubbering and crying and fucking alive. He squeezes Eddie tight.

"I didn't hurt her."

"I know."

"I promise I didn't hurt her."

"I believe you."

They curl up in the sad little nest his nephew has made in the row boat. The row boat that creaks ominously and rocks with their combined weight. It's like Eddie is little again, hiding in the closet. His back is going to hate him in the morning but Wayne ain't fucking moving anywhere. Not now that he has his boy.

It's in the dark of the night, in a shadow of time past, that Eddie opens up. About the soft Omega cheerleader thag remembered him. About wanting to help. It flows out of Eddie like a river through a busted dam. He already knew that Dustin was in on whatever is going on. Learning Chet Harrington's boy was also in the know is a surprise.

"They're coming back in the morning."

Wayne grunts. Children. Children are the driving force behind trying save the goddamn world. He could weep. But he doesn't. Tries to get his mind to believe that life will be better in the morning.

Which of course means that it goes to shit instead. News that Fred Benson died reaches them. The scooby gang reacts to his presence worse than a cat to a bucket of water being poured on them. All but hissing at him. The reporter is Nancy Wheeler. An Alpha who looks Eddie in the eyes when she goes over what happened. A Robin Buckley, a Beta, and of course the two children children. None of them mention going to the police.

"Sounds like the Creel murders," Wayne says, eyes narrowed in thought. Just like the other not times Nancy zeros in. Asks questions. A plan is devised, the group splits. Wayne hates it all. Wants to take the children, even those who think they're grown and hide them away. Kids shouldn't be doing this. But he's not going to leave Eddie.

Which turns out to be a good thing; seeing how the next night after a nerve wracking day of fucking silence, a preppy boy and his flock of followers show up.

Words are thrown. Punches too. Wayne gives as good as he gets, even if his hip gives out in the middle of him putting a curly haired Beta on his ass. Hits the ground hard with his head. Stars shooting across his vision before a knee is shoved into his back and his face is shoved into the water. He struggles. The last he saw Eddie was paddling his way to safety after Wayne all but threw him in the row boat. Two boys were chasing after him. Only the kid on his back is heavier than what he can lift in this position. The water trying to enter his mouth and clogging his nose don't help either. Eventually the world goes black.

[hyperfocusthusly]

“THE CHEERLEADER IS ASS-BACKWARDS”

I’m on the floor, this is not a serious show

[unsaidace]

“The cheerleader is ass backwards”

I shouldn’t be laughing….yet here I am.