#Why is there such a strong focus on the *eyes* of every boy!!!

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

[starryhyuck]

truth or dare? (m)

pairing: dom!hyuck x afab!reader

words: 2.3k

summary: a little game of truth or dare leads to one of your oldest friends shoving a dildo up your ass. who would've guessed?

genre: pure smut

warnings: dubcon, use of dildos, daddy kink, anal sex, double penetration, breeding kink, face riding, squirting, degradation

“how old are we?”

renjun smirks at your question. “scared of a little truth or dare?”

“yeah, come on,” donghyuck sighs, immediately pulling you down next to him on the floor of your apartment. “don’t be a loser. let’s play.”

many rounds of whiskey later, you find that truth or dare is actually really fun when you’re drunk off your ass. jeno’s already been stripped down to his underwear due to jaemin’s loud praises of jeno’s ‘strong upper body.’ mark is giggling loudly and leaning onto chenle, who’s pinching his cheeks every few minutes and announcing how cute he is to the whole group. jisung is clumsily trying to clean up and keep everyone sane. you’re leaning on donghyuck, sighing softly as you grow weary.

“oh, no, i think someone’s tired,” renjun teases, leaning over to pinch your cheek. you swat his hand away.

“i’m not tired,” you blubber, blinking rapidly to try and prove a point.

renjun rolls his eyes. “if you’re not drunk then, truth or dare?”

“dare,” you say confidently, holding your head up high.

“i dare you to let hyuck use one of your sex toys on you.”

the room goes silent. the boys in the room become uncharacteristically sober, eyes wide at renjun’s request. donghyuck has gone completely stiff next to you.

“renjun,” mark hisses. “you can’t ask that.”

“why not?” you question before renjun can take the dare back. you stand up and everyone eyes you warily. “c’mon, hyuck. i’ll show you what i have.”

you march to your room before donghyuck can respond, opening your nightstand drawer and rifling through your various toys of pleasure. humming to yourself as you decide which toy to choose, you miss the sound of donghyuck entering the room and closing the door.

“um, we don’t have to do anything. renjun was probably joking out there,” he mumbles awkwardly.

you giggle, pulling out your favorite dildo and gesturing for him to join you on the bed. “it’s fine. a little action won’t hurt anyone.”

before you can unzip your skirt, donghyuck is quick to cross the room and stop you.

“i’m serious. you’re drunk and i’m not letting anyone pressure you into anything right now.”

you pout, staring up at him and batting your eyelashes innocently.

“but i’m wet already. and you know the rules — the dare isn’t completed yet, and i don’t want to lose the game, hyuck.”

donghyuck has to restrain himself after hearing the desperation in your voice. you look so fucking pretty like this, skirt bunched up around your hips and fuck — he can see the glisten of your wetness coating the inside of your thighs.

he shuts his eyes tightly.

“i’m just going to leave.”

as he turns to exit the room, you grab his wrist and whine.

“hyuck, please help me. i know you want to,” you say, trying to get him to focus back on you.

you quickly shimmy your skirt down your legs and clumsily shove the dildo into his hands. he swallows before turning to face you again, eyes bulging at the sight of your lacy white panties completely soaked.

he softly curses to himself.

“h-how do you like it?”

you smile at him and hook your thumbs through the sides of your underwear, slowly pulling them down so donghyuck can see the fabric cling to your pussy from how wet you are. you giggle at the sight of his growing hard-on and drool pooling at the corner of his lips.

“well, you have to come on the bed to help me, silly. how are you going to use that toy when you’re all the way over there?”

you’re like a siren calling out to him as he slowly crawls on top of you, fingers shakily pressing the dildo to your entrance. you stop him before he pushes it in.

“you need to prep me a little first,” you laugh, grabbing his chin and pulling his lips to yours. donghyuck makes a startled noise before quickly reciprocating the kiss, tongue swiftly colliding with yours.

“can i eat you out?” he begs, all hesitation thrown out the window.

you nod and smile. you grow confused when he suddenly lays beside you and points to his face.

“sit on it, please?”

sober you would be concerned about potentially cutting off donghyuck’s source of breathing, but drunk you simply shimmies your way until your core is seated directly on his mouth. you gasp when he slurps at your pussy like it’s his last meal, nose bumping into your clit at the friction. your fingers grip the strands of his hair and you slowly move your hips until you’re basically riding his face like it’s another one of your toys.

you throw your head back and moan loudly, not giving a fuck about your group of friends that are still playing truth or dare outside your bedroom door.

his tongue is doing wonders on you, sending tingles down your spine at your approaching orgasm. you drag your cunt across his tongue like your life depends on it as the knot in your stomach threatens to snap.

you reach your high when donghyuck suddenly wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard. your vision nearly goes black as you experience one of the most intense orgasms of your life, encouraged by donghyuck’s desperation to make you cum and the lingering buzz of alcohol.

it isn’t until a few minutes later when you’ve almost passed out next to him that you realize you’ve squirted all over his face. you catch him licking his lips to try and savor the taste.

“shit,” you mumble weakly. “sorry. didn’t know i was going to do that.”

to your shock, he rolls over to connect his lips to yours once again. the kiss is even more desperate than the first one, with donghyuck gripping any piece of skin he can find while you taste the remnants of your release on his tongue.

“i like you,” he suddenly confesses, pulling away briefly.

you blink twice at him. “what?”

the tips of his ears turn bright red. “i’ve liked you for a while — that’s why renjun was being an asshole and gave you that dare. they’ve been teasing me for weeks since i couldn’t get the courage to confess.”

“and you decide to do it now? after i squirted all over your face with no warning?”

“i actually think this is the best time to do it. i literally just fell in love with you even more.”

you shrug in acceptance before pulling him down to kiss you again. he awkwardly pats his hands over your bed until he locates the dildo he threw to the side.

“do you want me to use this on you now?” he asks, lining the toy up to your entrance again.

you hum. “how about you lube me up and put the dildo in my ass instead? i think i’d rather have you in my pussy.”

he swallows. “i love you.”

“yeah, you said that.”

you direct him to the bottle of lube in your nightstand while you turn over to get yourself ready for him. chest pressed against the mattress, you reach back to spread your cheeks for him. you faintly hear him reciting “i love you” over and over.

you moan when you finally feel the lube drip down your hole and donghyuck’s index finger slowly pushes in.

you whimper at the intrusion. “a little more, hyuck.”

he follows your orders and another finger joins the first.

“you’re so tight.”

you’ve had things in your ass before — sometimes you enjoy a finger in your ass to help you cum. however, the feeling of donghyuck’s fingers probing one of the most sensitive parts of your body is enough to light your body with a growing heat.

“mmm, i’m ready,” you say deliriously, reaching behind to tug at his wrist. “fuck me now, please.”

“are you still drunk? i kind of want to do this when you’re not so inebriated,” he murmurs cautiously, even though if he doesn’t put his dick in you right now, he might actually die.

“i’m okay,” you assure, feeling a lot less floaty than you did when you first came in the room with him. “just want you in me, please.”

you hear him shuffling to take off his clothes and he retracts his fingers from your ass. you groan at the loss, feeling empty.

“hyuck,” you whine when he takes too long, pushing your hips backwards. “hurry up.”

“i’m here, i’m here,” he assures you, lining his tip up to your entrance. “wait, should i put a condom on?”

you’re about to throw a tantrum. it’s like he’s purposely trying to edge you.

“no, just go in raw,” you hiss, deciding to take matters in your own hands and grab the base of his cock, shoving him past your dripping walls.

he moans at your desperation, watching as his cock disappears into your glistening cunt. a lust-filled frenzy overtakes you and your body moves on its own accord, hips twisting and forcefully shoving your cunt back on him until his balls slap your clit.

donghyuck watches you fuck yourself on him like a bitch in heat, hungry for your orgasm with or without his help. he knocks some sense into himself and steadies one hand on your hip to still your movements. you’re about to complain again before you feel the familiar tip of your favorite dildo start to stretch your other hole.

“fuck,” you cry, definitely making a scene for both your group of friends and nearby neighbors.

the distracting combination of his cock in your pussy and a dildo in your ass gives donghyuck enough time to regain control of the situation, pounding into you and expertly pushing the toy as deep as it can go.

you swear you can see stars flash behind your eyelids. you’re on the verge of falling deep into your subspace, which normally requires a lot more time and energy for you to lose it.

soon enough, you’re reduced to nothing but a crying mess for him to use.

“so pretty,” he compliments, watching your body grow weary and slump against the mattress. he rails you harder until you can both hear the squelch of your pussy echo in your room. “i’ve wanted to see you like this for so long. was going to steal one of your panties tonight when you thought i was in the bathroom. isn’t that pathetic?”

you get no warning when your next orgasm hits. your legs tremble by the strength of it, and donghyuck shows no signs of slowing down.

“so good,” you whisper, relishing the sensation of being stuffed full. “cum for me, daddy.”

“oh?” you hear the astonishment in his voice. “am i your daddy now, sweetheart?”

“yeah,” you cry. “cum in my pussy, daddy. need your cum so bad.”

“want me to breed your little cunt? stuff you until you’re dripping? let all the boys out there see what a slut you are?”

your moans grow louder. “yeah, daddy. i’ll do anything you want.”

“you want to be my pretty whore, hm?”

“i want to be your pretty whore,” you whine, feeling absolutely zero shame at your lewdness. “make me your whore, daddy, please.”

donghyuck suddenly withdraws the dildo from your ass and replaces it with his cock. you climax at the change-up, pussy clenching around nothing as he sodomizes you.

“you were just desperate for me to fuck you tonight. gave you so many opportunities to back out but you instead treated my cock like your own personal toy,” he hisses at you, having no mercy with the strength of his thrusts. “tell me you love daddy too.”

“i love you, daddy,” you reply automatically. “want you to fuck me like this all day.”

“yeah? want me to pound your little pussy until you cry? make you prove that you really love me?”

“i love you, i love you,” you chant, pulling your cheeks apart once more. “cum in my ass, daddy, please.”

he gives a few more thrusts before warm spurts of his cum shoot deep into your ass. you smile blissfully when he slumps against your frame, chest pressed against your back.

you both attempt to catch your breath as best as you can. you feel him press a kiss to your shoulder.

“i know you didn’t really mean it, but i like you a lot and i hope i can take you out on a date tomorrow to change your mind about me.”

your brain is still a little hazy but you try to locate a semblance of sanity.

“i did mean it. i like you too, i always thought you were cute. i just never wanted to make things awkward for the group dynamic.”

“really?” you can hear the happiness in his voice.

you nod. “you can take me on a date tomorrow. i mean, you already fucked me in my pussy and my ass. no turning back now.”

he turns your head so he can press a kiss to your lips.

“let’s get you cleaned up, baby.”

he helps you to your feet as your thighs tremble from the intense fucking you just received. when he swings open your bedroom door, there’s a sticky note attached to the front that’s written in renjun’s messy handwriting.

congrats! you won the game, whores

“i mean, if they all left, we might as well fill all of my holes, right?”

before donghyuck can ask what you’re referring to, you’re sinking to your knees to take his cock in your mouth, his cum dripping down your legs.

he shakily props a hand up to steady himself against your door, wondering how the fuck he got so lucky to have you.

[justauthoring]

naturally [1].

you fit into their little family, perfectly - naturally.

a/n: i... i needed this :')

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader, yuji itadori x f!reader (platonic)

A sudden tug at the hem of your dress pulls your attention away from the flowers you’d been looking at.

You blink, a frown of confusion falling on your face as you slowly lower your gaze – however, the frown is quickly replaced by a smile when you see the familiar head of pink hair nestled by your legs. Yuji is looking up at you with those big, bright eyes of his, but there’s an etch of a frown on his lips and he looks near tears as he holds on to you tightly.

Lowering so you’re closer to his height, you hug your knees to your chest, tilting your head at Yuji. “Hello Itadori-kun,” you greet warmly, eyes briefly searching for the familiar head of blonde hair that was always close next to the boy, refusing to let the concern show when you realize he’s nowhere to be found. Instead, you let your attention focus back on the small boy.

“H-Hello Y/N/N-san,” Yuji replies, his voice shaky and watery as he looks near tears.

“Where’s your papa, sweetheart?” You ask, frowning down at him as you reach out for him, brushing back a strand of ruly pink hair. “Did you get lost?”

He nods, a big pout present on his lips as he sniffles, desperately trying not to let the tears that threaten to fall, fall. The sight makes your heart ache, knowing that Yuji, even in his young age, is always trying to act strong for his papa knowing how hard he works as a single father. 

You’d met Nanami and his son, Yuji, just over a year ago when you moved into the apartment next to theirs. Nanami had just been coming home from the park with Yuji when you’d pulled up with your moving van and to your utmost surprise, Nanami had offered to help you bring in your boxes once he learned you were alone and on the same fourth floor as him. Yuji who had proudly introduced himself to you almost instantly had also offered his help, and you’d given him a small bag of your toiletries so he could feel included as you profusely thanked the man for offering his help when he barely knew you.

From that day on, you’d been smitten with the slightly older man and regularly visited him; mainly because of him but also because you absolutely adored his son who seemed to beam every time you came for a visit. You’d babysat for Nanami more times than you could count when he was called into work, had offered to pick up Yuji from daycare when he couldn’t – the first time you ever had, Yuji had practically swarmed you, dragging you by the hand to meet his friends Junpei, Megumi and Nobara who were a bundle of energy themselves – and Nanami often repaid the favour by making you dinners, helping you with any issues you had and the like.

Yuji coming to you for help that day wasn’t all that surprising – what was surprising was the fact that he’d gotten lost from Nanami at all. The man usually had a pretty great grip on where his son was and constantly had an eye on him. It made you worry, afraid something had gone wrong and maybe Nanami was hurt… you were only happy you were close by so that Yuji had been able to find you.

Reaching out for Yuji, you extend your palm out towards him, smiling brightly in hopes of reassuring him; “why don’t we go looking for your papa, together, mm? I’ll help you. Let me try calling him.”

He nods, eyes widening with hope as he eagerly places his much smaller hand in your own. He grips on tightly with his tiny fingers, barely reaching around the length of your palm but you easily respond by wrapping your hand around his, not as tightly so as not to hurt him.

As you begin walking, Yuji is careful to stick close even with him holding your hands. He’s constantly glancing around, obviously looking for any sight of his father that he can all whilst scared he might get lost from you too.

You hold on tighter at that thought.

The first time you call, Nanami doesn’t answer. You try to shake the worry that something may have happened to him and begin walking in the direction Yuji had come from, him quietly explaining the two had been at the park before Yuji had accidentally wandered too far. You try calling again once you reach the park, but again, no answer.

Your chest tightens, fearing the worst while trying to not let it show so you don’t scare Yuji further. You can tell he’s getting more anxious by the second, his grip tightening and he’s constantly sniffling, trying to hold back his tears.

Kneeling, you wipe away at a stray tear that had managed to fall; “it’s okay, Itadori-kun, we’ll–”

You’re cut off by a sharp ring. Straightening out, you look Yuji’s way, making sure to keep your grip on his hand as you pull your phone out of your purse – it’s Nanami.

He’s breathless on the phone, panting heavily as he explains he doesn’t know where Yuji is and he’s a second away from calling the police because he’s terrified he’s been grabbed or worse but you’re quick to cut him off, glancing at Yuji as you inform the man that his son is with you. After the relief settles, Nanami asks you to meet him back at the apartment, the middle point on where the two of you are and you quickly agree, telling him you’ll be there in ten minutes.

Sure enough, the second you turn the corner, Nanami is standing there, eyes peeled for the two of you. The second Yuji’s eyes land on his father, he’s pulling away from you without hesitation, you letting go of him with ease once you make sure it’s safe, watching with a fond smile as Yuji goes bounding towards his father.

The second Nanami’s eyes fall on Yuji, you see the instant relief that floods through him. He’s sinking to his knees with a shaky exhale as Yuji crashes into him, letting his much larger arms wrap around the small boy and clutching onto him tightly. 

It takes you a minute longer to reach the two of them and you see Yuji is finally letting his tears fall as he recalls how sorry he is for wandering off and that he’s sorry for making his papa worry and on and on all whilst Nanami simply shakes his head, expressing that he’s only happy that Yuji is okay.

Once Nanami realizes you’re standing in front of the two of them, he stands up still with Yuji clutched tightly in his arms.

“Thank you,” Nanami breathes, “I was so worried. I’m glad Yuji managed to find you when he couldn’t find me.”

You brush him off, “it’s no worries, Nanami-san. I’m glad Itadori-kun found me as well. Poor little guy was scared.”

Nanami frowns, hand falling to the back of the boy's head as Yuji clutches onto him tightly, hiding his face into the crook of his neck. Yuji’s breathing has slowed, and you realize the exhaustion must have caught up to the boy because his eyes are drooping shut and he looks ready to fall asleep.

You smile, “he’s so brave. He was trying not to cry the entire time,” turning to Nanami, you beam. “You’ve got a special little boy, Nanami-san.”

“Kento.”

Pausing, your lips part; “hm?”

“Kento,” he repeats, “please, call me Kento. You’re always so helpful and kind to Itadori, I… I’d rather you call me Kento, Y/N.”

Cheeks warm, your eyes widen; “oh!” You call out, squeaking slightly and trying to ignore the race of your heart as you nod, “y-yeah, of course. Um, K-Kento.”

He smiles, warmly and making the edges of his eyes curl as you try to ignore just how beautiful the sight is, twisting your hands behind your back as you glance at your feet.

“As a thank you, I’ll make you dinner tonight.”

You shake your head; “th-there’s no need, Nana–Kento… I… Like I said, it was no problem–”

“Dinner, tonight. Seven.” Nanami cuts in, pulling your eyes on him in surprise as he grins down at you. “I can call Shoko to see if she’d be willing to babysit.”

Babysit?

Nanami and you have never had dinner without Yuji around. You definitely didn’t mind–you loved the boy… but with the way Nanami is looking at you and the twinkle in his eyes you have a feeling there’s a reason why he offers.

“O-Oh,” you breathe, trying to ignore the racing of your heart. “O-Okay. I’ll be there. Seven.”

Nanami nods, satiated at your agreement, before he offers you one last smile and a wave, turning to make his way inside, obviously to tuck Yuji in since the little guy has promptly passed out in his arms.

All whilst you stand there, a blushing mess.

What were you going to wear tonight?

[writingoddess1125]

How Strong the old men Genes are!

Funny little Headcanon for the Old Men!

Enjoy!

Support me on Ko-Fi

Buggy

• Buggy has a curse of twins. No matter what if he gets a women pregnant It will result in him having twins.

• Due to the fact his first few sexual acquaintances were 'Paying Lovers' he does collect his kids and either has them apart of the crew or finds them a very nice homes if they aren't interested in being a Pirate.

• His kids do look like him but it's a healthy mix- His eyes and Hair Color seemingly to be his strongest genes since each of his kids has at least one of those unique characteristics.

• When he gets with his S/O who he also has twins with he is open about it.

• Has only gotten a few people pregnant but due to the twins curse- it's a lot of kids.

• Buggy much to everyone surprise is very good with kids. Especially babies.

• Maybe it plays on his power trip but having a little being that loves you unconditionally and needs you 24/7 plays well for him.

• Will buy nice clothes, dress them, feed them, play with them and even teach them everything he knows.

• His S/O is proud to see how good he is with kids. Proud of such a development. Will press him to collect/find the rest of his crotch goblins

• Gets a message from a old flame saying they no longer want their kids due to their line of work. How they are 4 and he needs to get them before they are in a orphanage.

• Hauls ass to go to Chi Chi Town to get his last batch of Twins before he got with his S/O

• "Let me guess- Twins right?" He said blandly to the madame of the brothel house, who nods in surprise. "Why yes- How did you know?-"

• "Lucky Guess. Now go get them" He says blandly as the Madame goes to the nursery area and retrieves the two twin toddlers, He doesn't even need to confirm as he sees the headful of blue hair.

• Takes them without a fuss and walks off to add to his growing collection of kids.

• Has a total of 12 Kids, all twins and he's done. No more for him-

Shanks

• Ah Poor Shanks- The Players Curse! Only Girls, He has just an ungodly amount of daughters.

• He doesn't even know we're they are till he walks through a village and sees a girl that looks a lot like him.

• All of them have red hair- No matter what. Curly, straight, Wavy but their hair is always red.

• "I'm your father! Goodness you look so lovely!" He gushes about each daughter and treats them individually. Spending as much time as he can with them and will buy them things they are interested in.

• Still prefers his single players life so doesn't settle with anyone. However running into old flames often means meeting new kids.

• Surprisingly remembers all his kids names, will write them letters constantly.

• Will he thrilled if any of them ate interested in pirating- his oldest of kids may already be working on another Pirates ship.

• Surprisingly large amount are actually Marines! So he gets special privileges of his daughters using their political power to not get him arrested-

• Introduces every daughter he has to the crew.

• The crew Secretly has a tally-board of how many kids Shanks has in the crews quarters

• "Hey Ben! How many does this new girl make?" Lucky Roux called out as he tossed the chalk to Yasopp

• "28nd girl-" Ben says calmly and smirks as Yasopp adds another Tally to the board.

• "28 Girls and 1 Boy. Good on you Luffy" The crew laughs at the stupidity of it all.

Mihawk

• Mihawk will never say it out loud but- He was a man-whore in his youth. A Massive Man-Whore.

• Knows he has a lot of bastard kids. But will at the moment only focus on the one he has with his S/O.

• When his permanent S/O finds out that Mihawk has a lot of illegitimate children they urge him to meet and even help his kids.

• At first he begrudgingly agreed- Only because his S/O asked him. Assuming he only had a good handful-

• He was wrong- So very very Wrong.

• It wasn't until he went out to collect them did he realize it was a good Idea what his S/O had suggested-

• Many of his children were in less then savorable situations. Some in orphanages, the streets picking through trash, even others working as servants or worse.

• What started as a scoffing agreement turned into the biggest rescue mission of his life.

• Once done he had the grand total of 87 Kids.

• His genes being incredibly strong since his kids all looked like him- to at least some degree.

• The main indicator was the yellow eyes- Damn near every child had his eyes. Some had his dark hair or his stoic features. But it was mainly his eyes-

• Is quiet around kids and even a bit awkward. Especially when they are in the adolescent age and talk far too much for his taste.

• By the end the castle back on his Island was actually at full occupancy. Every room filled and some of the smaller children even sharing rooms.

• He ended up hiring a full staff as well to help care for the children, especially any younger ones.

• Cost him a fortune- His wallet screaming at him buying more food, clothes, staffing, medical care and toys.

• S/O is happy since now the castle is so alive and filled with life. Makes them happy

• Mihawk laying in bed before he gets jumped on by kids. Scrambling awake as he sees 5 of his younger children laughing at seeing his startled face and runs off like little imps-

• Younger children haven't figured out to be afraid of him yet so they will run over him. He will be sitting there trying to read while a 3 year old uses him as a jungle gym.

•Secretly loves it-

• Loves having his home so warm and oddly realizes He may have been lonely before-

• "Mihawk I'm only counting 85 in bed-" His S/O calls out. Having a tradition of telling all the kids goodnight, He raises his brow at this as he sets down his wine glass and book of the evening.

[maxespurr]

Giving In

Warning: Nat has a Penis, 18+ Only, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha is holding herself back. Little does she know that Wanda already knows and decides to give the redhead an incentive...

Words: 934

---

Natasha was alone at the gym in the Avenger Compound, in the middle of unleashing a flurry of punches at a large punching bag.

It was past four thirty in the afternoon, an odd hour to be training. Most of the Avengers that lived in the Compound either did their training during the early hours of the morning or in the dead of night. These days, Natasha preferred to train alone. The cause to the shift in her training schedule was frustrating, with only herself to blame.

It started when she came across Wanda showering in the locker room after a rough morning of cross-country training from Steve. Wanda heard her come in (they were the only girls on the team so it was easy to guess it was Natasha) and asked her to get her a towel. When Natasha returned with a freshly cleaned and dried towel, Wanda shut off the shower head and stepped out of her shower cubicle, her bare self fully exposed for Natasha's eyes to drink in. It was the first time she ever saw Wanda naked and almost instantly, Natasha felt her cock twitch in her pants, and it was only getting harder. Wanda asked her what was wrong, but Natasha said nothing and quickly excused herself.

That was a week ago.

Every time she saw Wanda, her body had a strong response to the young witch's presence. Natasha became distracted every time they were within proximity of each other. The head on her shoulders could not focus on anything else because the head between her legs could only think about being buried deep inside Wanda. It got to the point she had to actively avoid Wanda if Natasha wanted to get any semblance of work done.

She knew that Wanda noticed the shift in her behavior. After all, Natasha was making no effort in hiding the fact she'd leave the room whenever Wanda walked in. Natasha would make eye contact with the young woman for five seconds and she could feel whatever pants she would be wearing at the time to suddenly feel tight. It was incredibly frustrating that her body was reacting like a hormonal teenage boy, and she couldn't stop it.

Natasha finished her workout panting heavily, beads of sweat sliding down her face.

Her body felt hot, and she knew it wasn't because of exercise.

She wondered how much longer she could last before she would break.

---

"Goddammit. I don't understand how the hell Tony built this damn compound without a working dishwasher. It's been a week already," Natasha muttered to herself while slowly going through the massive pile of dishes in the sink (she was going to have a talk with Sam later).

"Need some help?"

Natasha froze.

She turned to her right to find Wanda standing beside her, a small towel in hand. The moment their eyes met, Natasha felt her cock throb in her sweatpants. She wanted to get away and privately relieve herself, but her sense of responsibility and not wanting leave Wanda with the pile of dishes won over her desire to leave.

Natasha tried to hide her growing erection by having the leg closest to Wanda positioned a bit forward, praying the brunette did not notice. "Sure, I could use help drying."

Wanda nodded and took a plate from Natasha.

They stood beside each other and silently went through the stack of plates, silverware, and coffee mugs. Natasha wondered why Wanda wasn't saying anything else considering this was the first time they've spoken to each in over a week.

When she handed Wanda the last of the dishes, Natasha turned off the faucet and hastily dried her hands. "Thanks for your help, Wanda. I'm-"

Wanda cut her off and backed her against the counter, placing her hands on either side of Natasha and trapping her.

"You're not running away again, Natasha. I won't let you."

"W-Wanda, wait...!"

But Wanda didn't listen. She pushed her pelvis against the older woman's.

Natasha shuddered at the contact and swallowed back a moan. She could tell she was fully erect, and it was impossible for Wanda to not feel it herself.

"Did you really believe I didn't notice the reason you've been avoiding me?" Wanda spoke in a low whisper, eyes never leaving Natasha's packing pair. "This... lively thing?" She traced the full length of Natasha's erection, starting from the base and slowly making her way up to the tip.

Natasha gritted her teeth and gripped the counter with such force her knuckles turned white when Wanda began stroking her through her sweatpants. She felt something burning, something primal, welling up deep inside of her. It had been growing this past week and was about to burst at the seams when Wanda pulled away. Natasha, in a lust-filled haze, could only stare dumbly as the brunette walked away.

Then, Wanda looked over her shoulder at Natasha and lifted up her skirt: she had no panties and her pussy glistened with arousal.

"If you're done running away, come to my room and this will be yours."

Wanda let her skirt fall and left the kitchen while Natasha was still reeling and processing what just happened. Each second that passed, her willpower crumbled, and her reasoning was thrown out the window.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Natasha knew it was a bad idea to mix work and sex, but the thought of finally getting Wanda under her and having her way with her overpowered any rational thought she had left as she finally took a step forward towards Wanda's room.

---

A/N: Part 2...? 🤔

[7s3ven]

Hihi can you do a luke x reader fic where reader has had a crush on him for the longest time but he never liked her back and once she started to loose feelings and liking other people he gets jealous and ends up liking her and they get tgt in the end

I love ur writing sm!!🙈🙈

THANK YOU!! 😽😽

I actually have the perfect idea for this in my drafts, omg.

EVERY1 WANTS HIM. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N realizes she didn’t the only girl hopelessly in love with Luke. And when she finally lets him go, that’s when he decides to reciprocate her precious feelings.

“Everyone wants him, that was my crime. The wrong place at the right time.”

Warnings : Y/N is kind of girly, details differ, angst

—

Love was a funny topic. It often left you breathless with your head spinning and your heart pounding so fast that you feared it would abruptly stop. Or sometimes, it filled you with a sense of dread and envy that engulfed you. Y/N was the latter.

Being an Aphrodite child, she had no problem catching the attention of the guys at camp, including Luke Castellan’s.

He was the golden boy, the role model, the literal blueprint to a great demigod warrior. And Y/N was practically perfection in a human’s body. So why was keeping his attention so hard?

Y/N had tried to deny her feelings for Luke after realising he rarely batted an eye in her direction, yet every time she smelled his cologne, she almost swooned. Him sending her occasional bright grins when he decided to acknowledge her didn’t help either.

“Y/N, can you help Luke with setting up the targets?” Chiron’s voice snapped Y/N back to reality. She suddenly remembered that she was standing on a large grassy plane, awaiting to teach a band of small kids archery. Well, more like Luke was going to do the teaching part. She was only there as a small punishment for being out past curfew.

“Right.” She stammered, hurrying over to Luke. He handed her a target from his pile and when their fingers brushed, Y/N almost jolted. “Sorry.” She muttered.

She felt a little stupid right now. She wasn’t usually the shy one when it came to interactions with guys. Luke merely smiled, his gaze following her as she placed the target down, providing Y/N with false hope.

“You’re better at archery than I am. You should be teaching.” Luke uttered after a moment of silence. Chiron had already wandered off to attend to other parts of camp, leaving the pair of older kids alone.

“I’m not that good.” Y/N quickly replied.

Luke was silent for a minute more before he spoke again. “Why do you act so defenceless and dumb?”

It took Y/N a short second to register his words. “Excuse me?” She choked out. Was he insulting her? Last time she checked, she was decently smart. Definitely not on Annabeth’s level but her grades had always been higher than average.

“I’m not calling you dumb.” Luke quickly corrected himself, “But I’m just wondering why you pretend to be so weak when you’re actually a good fighter and why you hide your intelligent side and focus on your looks. Why do you act stupid to get male validation?”

Y/N didn’t know the answer to his random question. “Nobody likes a smart and strong girl.” She whispered as she set up the last target.

“Well, I must be a nobody then. My type is smart and strong.” Luke grinned before his eyes darted over to Silena, who stood a few meters away. “Your sister’s waiting for you.”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, subtly waving at Silena. “I’ll get going then. Bye, Luke.”

“See ya, Duke.”

Y/N momentarily paused, “What did you just call me?” She asked in confusion.

“Duke. As in, Heather Duke? You know, from Heathers? She acts dumb but is actually really smart, just like you.”

Y/N could only stare at Luke with her lips slightly parted. “Okay.” She breathed. “Bye.” She jogged over to Silena, quickly grabbing her half-sister’s arm.

“He gave me a nickname.” She whispered to Silena.

On instinct, Silena squealed. “Oh, my gosh! He’s totally into you!” The younger camper effortlessly fed Y/N’s delusions. “Make your move at the campfire tonight, don’t be shy!” Silena nudged Y/N with her elbow.

“Do you think he actually likes me?” She mumbled. Silena immediately nodded. Y/N shakily inhaled. “I guess I could… sit with him at the campfire.”

Silena happily clapped her hands. “Let’s go find you the perfect outfit!”

The campfire was in a few hours. The sun was slowly beginning to set, giving Camp Half-Blood a break from its harsh and burning rays.

Silena dug around in Y/N’s closet, messily throwing articles of clothing over her shoulder.

“What on earth are you doing?” Drew scowled in disapproval as she was hit in the face with a short brown skirt.

“Y/N’s going to make a move on Luke and she needs to look sexy!” Silena exclaimed amongst all the chaos.

Drew lightly scoffed. “Just throw her into a black top and mini skirt. She looks good in anything.”

Silena gasped as she stood up straight. “You’re right!” She scrambled around to find what she was looking for before shoving a black off-shoulder top and a short grey and white plaid skirt with hints of brown into Y/N’s arms. “Get changed! Now!”

Y/N quickly hurried into the bathroom, a little overwhelmed by Silena’s sudden enthusiasm.

“Are you sure about this?” She mumbled, trying to tug the skirt down. She usually wore short skirts but never in front of Luke.

“It’s fine, stop fidgeting with it.” Drew snapped, linking arms with Y/N. Silena did the same on the other side, the two girls practically dragging Y/N out of the cabin. She nervously gulped as they neared the roaring fire.

“I’ve never seen you this nervous.” Drew piped up. It was true. Y/N was almost like a flirting machine yet her heart was always stuck on Luke Castellan.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the small crowd huddled around the campfire, freezing when she spotted Luke in the company of another girl. Silena, wondering why Y/N had abruptly stopped walking, followed her gaze.

“Oh… that’s…” Silena wrinkled up her nose, nudging Drew.

“That’s not right.” Drew furrowed her eyebrows together.

Y/N watched with an aching heart as Luke slung an arm around the girl’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

The girl in Luke’s arms immediately glanced at Y/N, knowingly grinning as if to silently say “There’s another girl in Luke Castellan’s life”.

Y/N almost started trembling. “I…” She clawed at her throat, “I can’t breathe.”

Drew immediately grabbed Y/N’s wrists. “Calm down.” She demanded, “You are Y/N fucking L/N. You don’t need a man. You are an absolute powerhouse by yourself!”

Y/N shakily inhaled before she nodded. She resisted the urge to glance at Luke again, knowing it would only suffocate her even more.

“Y/N, no offence, but maybe Luke just… doesn’t like you as much as you like him.” Silena murmured, despite being one of the only people that constantly fed Y/N’s imagination.

Y/N stared at the ground, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and happiness all in one. Angry that Luke led her on. Sad that Luke would never see her the way she saw him. And happy that she no longer had to withstand the pain of seeing him with other girls.

“We can skip the campfire.” Silena gently said, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N quickly lifted her head, her lips curved into a delicate frown. “No. Find me someone to flirt with.”

“Theo, Ares kid. Handsome, good fighter, surprisingly didn’t inherit his dad’s anger issues.” Drew pointed a tall brunette boy sitting amongst his siblings. As Y/N stormed off towards Theo, Drew leaned to the side to whisper to Silena.

“She really is mother’s daughter.”

“Theo. Hi.” Y/N stopped in front of the teenager, smiling at him. Theo paused, lifting his gaze to stare at Y/N in surprise.

“Oh! Y/N… hi!” Theo looked unnaturally happy to see Y/N. He grinned up at her, welcoming her to sit next to him.

“I thought you would be sitting with Silena and Drew.”

“I decided I needed a change.” Y/N clasped her hands together as she gazed at Theo. She saw his cheeks turn bright red.

“And you chose to sit next to me of all people?”

Y/N shrugged, “Yes. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” Theo stammered, “I just wasn’t expecting you to sit with me! Because you’re so pretty- does that sound weird? Uh, you’re just really beautiful- that sounds weird.”

Theo’s siblings looked over at him and mockingly snickered together as he tripped over his words.

Y/N merely stared at him, her glossed lips set in a slight curious pout. “You think I’m pretty?” She asked, batting her lashes.

“Everybody thinks you’re pretty. Not just because of your looks but because of your vibe.”

Y/N’s cheeks unintentionally heated up. “Oh.” She murmured, glancing at Silena who was eagerly watching the pair. The ravenette subtly pointed over at Luke, whose jaw was clenched. His attention was no longer on the girl beside him and, instead, his focus rested on Y/N.

“Are you trying to make Luke jealous?” Theo suddenly asked. Y/N quickly turned her head to face him. “It’s not hard to tell you have a crush on him. I mean, he probably knows at this point.”

“I’m not that obvious.” Y/N retorted.

Theo chuckled as he took a sip from his drink. “You’re about as subtle as a sword. You wanna make him jealous? I’ll help you. I know how a guy’s mind works and right now, he wants to strangle me for even looking at you.”

“Why would you even offer to help me with such a ridiculous task?”

“I like watching chaos.” Theo moved closer to Y/N, their shoulders gently brushing. “And I like causing it even more.” He grinned, “What do you say? Partners in crime?” He held out his hand for a hand shake.

“I like the sound of that.” Y/N laughed as she pulled Theo into a tight hug, “I don’t think a handshake would cause enough chaos, though.”

Theo had that same mischievous glint in his eyes as Y/N did. “You’re right.”

“You should’ve seen Luke.” Silena giggled as she washed her perfectly clear face, “He was practically fuming!”

“He deserves it.” Drew piped up as she carefully plucked out any stray eyebrow hairs. “Leading Y/N on then acting like he’s all innocent. What a jerk. You’re better off without him, honestly.”

Silena hummed in agreement. “Hermes boys are always telling lies.”

Y/N remained quiet as she wiped the excess water off her face. Sure, she felt annoyed that Luke had played with her feelings but small part of her still yearned for his attention.

“Yeah. I guess.” Y/N whispered. Drew and Silena left the bathroom, leaving Y/N to tend to herself. She stared at her reflection, taking in the dark circles that had begun forming and how her smile never looked genuine anymore. Her lips were curved but there was no joy in her eyes.

“Y/N, are you coming? We’re watching to all the boys I’ve loved before.” Silena poked her head into the bathroom, alerting Y/N.

As Aphrodite children, romcoms were their favourite movies. They spent a lot of time watching crazy rich asians, 2000 romance movies, and even gossip girl purely for the unbelievable drama.

“Yeah, I’m coming. Hang on.”

Y/N practically stumbled out of her cabin. It was still dark, the sun still hiding behind the mountain peaks. Dim lanterns lit her path as she begrudgingly started jogging around the camp grounds. She was using it as a method to clear her mind, but she unexpectedly crashed into Theo.

“Morning.” He grinned down at her. “You out for a morning jog?”

“I have nothing better to do.” Y/N muttered back as she spotted some movement out of the corner of her eye. It was Luke slipping on his camp shirt as he stepped out of the Hermes building, barely awake. He saw Y/N and Theo but didn’t bother acknowledging them.

“Someone’s grumpy today.” Theo joked, lightly nudging Y/N. “He’s probably still jealous over last night.”

Y/N folded her arms over her chest. “I still don’t get why he’d be jealous. It was fun at first but why exactly would he be envious of you?”

Theo sent her a surprised look. “If a pretty girl was throwing herself at me and then suddenly stopped and gave other guys attention, I’d be jealous too.” Theo’s gaze flickered to Luke, “And here he comes now. See ya.”

Theo slyly slipped away before Y/N could grab him. Luke was quickly walking towards her, tightly holding a beige-coloured envelope in his hands.

“Y/N.” He uttered, “Here.”

“What’s this?” Y/N muttered as she took the letter Luke handed her. For a minute, she almost thought it was for her.

“I need your opinion on it. I’m going to give it to Isa.” Luke smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing, while Y/N thickly gulped.

“Right.” She muttered, staring at Luke’s surprisingly neat handwriting. It felt like she was opening a letter meant for her. Her eyes quickly scanned over the words, wanting nothing more than to run away. “It’s good.” She choked out.

“Would you give it to her? I know you’re relatively close.” Luke sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck while Y/N furrowed her brows in annoyance. She bit back a loud scoff, shoving the letter into Luke’s hands.

“I’m not your errand runner, Luke.” She snapped, “Give it to her yourself. And I’m not close with Isa. Wrong girl, you jerk!” Y/N couldn’t help but storm off. She felt ridiculed by Luke. It was like he was purposely embarrassing her to see how she would react.

If Luke wanted a fight, he’d get more than that. He’d get a war. People often forgot that Aphrodite was also a goddess of battles and that her children were often just as violent as the Ares kids if pushed too far.

By the time Y/N arrived at the Pavilion, Drew and Silena were already sitting in their usual seats. “He’s such a jerk.” Y/N grumbled as she slid into the seat between her sisters, “Ugh!”

“What did he do this time?” Drew asked, unfazed because she had expected Luke to mess up again.

“So I’m on my morning jog and I run into Theo so we talk but Luke approaches me, causing Theo to walk away. And Luke hands me a letter without any context! So I ask what it is and it’s a letter for Isa. And he asks me to give it to you because apparently, we’re close. But I have never even talked to her! And I realized he probably mixed me up with another girl!”

Y/N angrily stabbed her fork into a roasted potato. “The audacity! Honestly!”

“Good to know you’re finally acknowledging how stupid he is.” Drew drawled as she stared into a small hand mirror and perfected her lip gloss.

Silena, always the kindest out of the iconic Aphrodite trio, pursed her lips. “Don’t say that.” She muttered at Drew. She turned her attention to Y/N. “Maybe he’s having pretty girl withdrawal symptoms.”

Drew gave Silena a pointed look. “What does that even mean?”

“He misses Y/N fawning over him and after her interaction with Theo, he wants to get back at her. Thus, locking you two in a battle where both of you are too proud to fold.”

Y/N huffed. “Maybe I should just move on.”

“Please do.” Drew piped up, “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N nodded her head in determination. “Okay. By the next campfire, I’ll be completely over him! I swear by it!”

Y/N was wrong. So, so, so wrong. She was not over Luke. In fact, she might be falling deeper into his undeniable charm. She sat with Drew and Silena, as always. Theo and Clarisse lingered behind them while Luke, Chris, and a few other Hermes kids sat to their right.

“Is that the new Apollo kid?” Drew asked as she nodded over at the boy strumming the guitar. He was quietly humming along, adjusting the strings every once in a while.

“Yeah. Eric or something.” Y/N replied, her eyelids drooping. She leaned back, accidentally bumping into Theo’s knees. She tried to pull away but he held her down.

“Don’t look now but a certain Hermes boy is staring at you. He looks green as fuck.” Theo whispered in Y/N’s ear as he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Laugh like I said something funny.”

Y/N lightly giggled, covering her mouth with one hand so nobody could see that it was fake.

“He looks even angrier now.” Clarisse added, enjoying Y/N’s little scheme.

“I thought you were moving on from him.” Drew butted in.

“The chaos is fun to watch.” Clarisse answered for Y/N. “Don’t look at Luke but look at Eric. He’s eyeing you up.” Y/N glanced at the new camper, immediately locking eyes with him.

Eric gently smiled as he began to sing along with his siblings, swaying to the beat and never once breaking eye contact with Y/N. Luke’s gaze darted between Y/N and Eric before he ran his tongue over his teeth in annoyance. Why was he feeling this way? He had never been interested in Y/N before, at least not in the way she wanted.

He agreed that she was beautiful but there was nothing more to her than that in his eyes. He never did give himself the chance to get to know her, though. He only liked the attention she gave him and when she abruptly ripped it away, he felt empty. Only now did he realize how many guys were actually interested in Y/N.

It only got worse after the campfire. Y/N was no longer seen following Luke around like a lost puppy and to other boys, they saw it as a chance to finally make their move.

“Oh, my gosh. This is so cheesy.” Theo laughed as he read the love letter someone had sent Y/N. She chuckled along with him.

“I know, right?” She sighed, plucking the letter from Theo’s hands. “I appreciate it but the rhyming scheme doesn’t exactly work out, does it?” Theo immediately shook his head.

“They have great words but they cannot rhyme to save their life.”

Over the past few weeks, Y/N ended up spending more time merely hanging out with Theo than plotting another trick against Luke. In all honesty, she enjoyed his company. It made her wonder why she let herself become so blinded by her adoration for Luke.

“Uh oh.” Theo muttered, “Lover boy incoming.” Y/N lifted her head to see Luke.

“Can we talk?” The brunette asked, though it sounded more like a demand. He didn’t even bat an eye at Theo. “Now?” Luke Castellan had finally cracked.

“Oh… sure.” Y/N stood up and glanced at Theo, who shooed her off. He sadly watched as she trailed after Luke, her hands clasped nervously behind her back.

“That should be me.” He whispered under his breath. “Castellan doesn’t deserve her.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Luke led Y/N to an isolated area of camp. And he eventually said something after a few moments of deadly awkward silence. “Why are you avoiding me and talking to all these other guys all of a sudden?” His knees felt like jelly when Y/N looked up at him.

“Excuse me? I have a right to associate with anyone I please.”

“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” Luke blurted out. “Why are you flirting with other guys when you used to only flirt with me?”

“Because you’re a jerk, Luke. You don’t have the right to play around with my feelings and when I don’t give you attention anymore, suddenly you want it again! You should have appreciated it when you had it!” Y/N harshly poked his chest as she spoke in a tone she had never used before. Luke could only stand still as Y/N pointed out his flaws.

“But… I liked your attention.” He whispered just loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“Too bad. Go kiss Isa. I thought you liked her?” Y/N was mocking him as she waved him off.

Luke stumbled back, stunned. In that moment, he realised how truely beautiful Y/N was. He took notice of her charming smile, her shining eyes, the crinkles on her face as she grinned. And he remembered how kind she was. She never overstepped a boundary unlike other girls. She admired Luke from afar and didn’t act like a creepy stalker.

Luke slowly walked away, quickly glancing over his shoulder to see Y/N embrace Theo. He had never felt more jealous than before. He could see Clarisse, Drew, and Silena watched him, each smiling like they knew something he didn’t.

“Did lover girl reject you?” Clarisse taunted him, causing Luke to roll his eyes.

“Fuck off, Clarisse.” He grumbled. Drew let out a muffled laugh, finding amusement in the whole situation.

“She doesn’t want you anymore, Castellan.” Drew uttered, shrugging. “Get over it. Didn’t you treat her the same?”

Luke furrowed his brows. “I never treated her like that…” He trailed off, trying to remember when he had ever brushed Y/N off.

There was the time at the campfire where he kissed that girl on the cheek.

And when he showed Y/N his love letter to Isa, which was really just his shopping list shoved into an envelope.

And when he purposely mixed her up with another girl.

“Oh, shit,” He muttered, “I’m a jerk.”

“You just noticed?” Drew snapped. “You realise you miss Y/N because she only ever focused on you when so many other guys wanted her attention too? What happens now? What are you gonna do, huh?”

Luke lightly chewed on the inside of his cheek. “What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I share her feelings.”

Clarisse leaned against a wooden pole, staring at Luke with a small grin. “Yeah. But you’re starting to. You’re jealous.”

Luke scowled, “I am not.” He huffed. “You’re delusional, Clarisse.”

“Maybe. But at least I didn’t fumble a gorgeous girl like you, Castellan.”

Luke clenched his jaw, something he seemed to be doing quite a lot with recent events. “Whatever.” He muttered, quickly walking off.

“I thought she was planning to move on from Luke.” Silena spoke for the first time.

“Be realistic, she’d jump into his arms if he confessed.” Clarisse fired back. Drew nodded her head in agreement. Y/N had always been a hopeless romantic, especially when it came to Luke.

“So… are we going to help him out or…” Silena trailed off as she looked at Drew then at Clarisse, both of them having identical evil glints in their eyes.

“He can figure it out on his own. I want to see how it ends.”

Luke lay awake in his bed, a thin layer of sweat coating his body from the humid air. It was unusually hot in his cabin. The Hermes building was often cold when the wind blew through the small cracks in the walls but someone made the grand choice of leaving the heater on for hours.

Finally, he stood up, having had enough of overheating. He yanked the door open, the wind feeling euphoric on his flushed cheeks.

He stepped outside, deeply inhaling. His gaze flickered to another camper walking around, dressed in a blazer cinched at the waste and a mini pleated skirt. There was only one group of people who dressed that fancy for a simple walk; Aphrodite kids. And Luke instantly recognised their H/C hair.

“Y/N.” He quietly called out as he jogged towards her. Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she turned around.

“What?” She muttered, folding her arms over her chest.

“I’m, uh, sorry for upsetting you earlier.” Luke scratched the back of his neck, hoping and praying Y/N would accept his half-hearted apology. It wasn’t much but it was all he could muster up.

Y/N, however, wasn’t that easy to break. “You can’t treat me like that then expect me to forgive you. Get it through your head, Luke, I don’t like you anymore.” She was about to storm off but Luke was quick to grasp her wrist.

“Please… forgive me. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to treat you like that. I didn’t know it would affect you.”

Luke was stunned when Y/N shoved him back. “You knew I liked you, Luke. You knew yet you still played around with me. And then when I move on, suddenly you want me back. You don’t get to decide that!”

“I know.” Luke murmured.

“You’re a jerk.” Y/N hissed, pushing him again.

“I know.”

Luke was expecting another harsh blow but Y/N only stared at him as she lightly panted. “You were jealous.” She muttered.

Luke quickly shook his head. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Admit it, Luke. Admit it.”

“I… can’t.”

“Tell me how you feel… and I’m yours.” Y/N stepped closer to him, their bodies almost pressed together. Luke’s breath hitched and in that moment, he wanted to blurt out everything.

How he felt like a failure after his quest.

How he thought he never truely deserved love.

And how he missed Y/N fawning over him.

Yet, he said nothing. He kept his mouth shut and he could see the hope in Y/N’s eyes slowly drift away.

It wasn’t a surprise to her that Luke remained silent. After all, he was never one to share his private thoughts.

“That’s what I thought.” She whispered, “Good night, Luke.” Y/N slipped away, not sparing him another look.

Over the next few days, Luke looked horrendous. Even Chris was staring at the boy in concern until he finally confronted Luke. “Dude.” Chris muttered, “You look terrible. What happened?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Was all Luke answered with as he slowly stirred his spoon around in the soup. Clarisse, Drew, and Silena had all taken a notice of his rugged appearance as well.

“Do we help him now?” Silena questioned.

Clarisse sighed, rolling her eyes. “We have to. Otherwise, he’ll never have any game.”

STEP ONE: Lure Y/N out

“I don’t get why we’re going on a walk in the middle of the night.” Y/N uttered as Drew forcefully pushed her out of the cabin. “There’s harpies, you know.”

“Fuck them. Come on, hurry up. We don’t have all night.” Drew grumbled.

Silena was leading the way with Clarisse hot in her trail, holding a sword in case a happy did actually show up. The group of four girls wandered through the woods, their only source of light being a dim lantern Silena held in her left hand.

“Almost there.” The ravenette beauty spoke up. “Y/N, wait here.”

Drew and Silena rushed off while Clarisse stayed behind, grabbing onto Y/N’s collar every time the H/C-nette tried to walk back to her bed.

“I got someone’s dessert promised to be for a month. I ain’t letting you ruin that.” Clarisse uttered.

STEP TWO: Make sure Luke looks… decent

“Stop fiddling with the collar.” Drew slapped Luke’s hand away as he tried to adjust the tight buttons. He struggled to suck in a breath. “Gosh, men are such babies.” She rolled her eyes while Silena silently combed Luke’s hair.

“You look handsome.” Silena reassured Luke as she showed him his reflection. Luke stared at himself, feeling a little uncomfortable in such formal clothes.

“Are you sure?” He asked for the fifth time, finally causing Drew to snap.

“Oh, shut it, Castellan! We made you look good, end of story!”

Silena was quick to hush Drew in case Y/N heard her shouts. Luke sighed, adjusting his tie so that it was centred.

“I still think confessing to her on a beach is stupid. There’s sand in my shoes.”

“Hey, we offered to help you. You’ll take what you’re given.” Drew poked his shoulder before turning to Silena. “You can go get Y/N now.”

STEP THREE: Force Y/N to confront Luke and Luke to confront his feelings

Y/N furrowed her brows as soon as she saw the strange sight of Luke standing on a sandy beach. She turned to Silena but she had already dashed off, most likely to wait in the shadows until Luke and Y/N came to an agreement.

Y/N sighed. “What do you want, Luke?”

“I shouldn’t have let you go that night.” Luke answered. “I should have spilled out my feelings. I should have told you everything.”

“Well,” Y/N folded her arms over her chest, “It’s too late now.”

“I think you’re pretty.” Luke quickly said Y/N got ready to leave. She paused. “I think you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Breath-taking. And I’m not talking about your outer appearance because as amazing as that is too, I’m talking about your heart and your vibe. I like how you’re the embodiment of pink. I like how you collect pearls and pieces of jewellery. I like how you adore heart-shaped things and how you’re always ready to lend a helping hand.”

“You noticed… all that?”

“I like how you always watch romcom movies with your siblings. I like how you wear the prettiest necklaces. I like your seashell collection and I like all your Vivienne Westwood clothes. I like how every time you leave camp for the holidays, you come back with a new fashion book and it’s all you read for the next days coming.”

STEP FOUR: High-five as Luke finally confesses (and Y/N cries - Clarisse)

“I like you.” Luke spoke the three words Y/N had been wanting to hear for years. She stared at him, silent and unmoving. He took that as a no until Y/N pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you.” She whispered, small tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Are you… crying?” Luke questioned.

Y/N quietly laughed. “Not many people notice all that about me… so if they do, I end up crying out of happiness.”

“Is this a yes to my confession?”

“It’s a maybe.”

“Good enough for me, Bella.”

Y/N sent him a confused look.

“You know, like Bella and Edward. Twilight, duh? How can you like to all the boys I’ve loved before and nor Twilight?”

Clarisse and Drew eagerly slapped their hands together while Silena fondly watched Y/N and Luke. She was happy for her half-sister because after all those years of pinning, Y/N finally got what she wanted.

PJO TAG LIST (FULL) : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @jennapancake @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @justanotherkpopstanlol @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @jamesmackreideswife @2hiigh2cry @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303 @luvvfromme @y0urm0m12 @mochi-lover26 @annispamz

[sarahscribbles]

Kinks Loki has

Praise kink (receiving and giving)

IDK if this classifies as a kink-Bondage?? I think he would be into the soft kind of bondage

Breeding kink but he won't admit it...unless we coax him to

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐮𝐛!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 ���𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕𝟓𝟐

𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Loki whines desperately the second your warm lips leave his cock. You watch, amused, as his hips snap up in a hopeless attempt at chasing your mouth, and how they just as quickly fall when he realises it’s an impossible endeavor. 

His strong arms are stretched out above him and restrained to the headboard by his own magic. Vibrant wisps of green encircle his wrists and pulse wildly with each tug, though they won’t go anywhere until you utter the word. 

He knows this, yet he still strains and pulls like he has a hope of escaping. It’s endearing, really.

“How many times is that, my love?” you ask, stroking his shaking thigh with your fingertips. It’s a gesture meant to reassure as much as tease. 

Your lover lies nude amongst the crumpled cream sheets, chest heaving, brow sweating, and hair fanned around him in a glorious mess of midnight curls. Your perfect, pretty prince.

“T…ten,” he replies, still panting heavily and subtly rolling his hips as bliss ebbs away from him once more. 

As it has done for the past thirty minutes. 

Your fingers continue to lightly stroke his thigh and he sighs softly at the sensation of being so openly adored. “Ten times you’ve given up your pleasure for me,” you coo, taking care to let a pause linger heavily in the air.

As expected, those big green eyes snap expectantly towards you and he seems to almost hold his breath in silent anticipation. There’s a “will she or won’t she?” etched into every line on his face, a wordless plea settled between those partly opened lips. 

Tonight, you have no intention of disappointing him.

“Such a good boy,” you praise him, scooching along the bed so you can cup his face and brush some stray curls back into place. “How lucky am I that you’re mine?”

His eyes light up beneath you, shining like pretty emeralds at your adoration. “Yours,” he repeats back softly, and you watch the rosy pink hue that stains his cheeks and the way his broad chest puffs up with pride. 

“Mhmm,” you murmur back, leaning in to nudge his nose with yours. “The prettiest prince in all the land is mine.”

A smile so soft it melts your heart curls across his lips and you can’t help but press your own firmly to his, moaning eagerly into his mouth and nipping at his bottom lip when you pull away.

He whines again and you catch the same vibrant pulsing of his restraints as he tries to pull you back in. “I’m not going anywhere, my darling,” you assure him, beginning to trail slow lazy kisses along his chest. 

Loki arches into every press of your lips against his skin, breathing out your name like a desperate prayer to the gods. He curses when your tongue runs over a nipple, and then the other, and you feel the firm muscles of his stomach jump and ripple as you continue your descent. 

“You know, I always wonder why I get such filthy looks when we step out together, but now I realise. It’s envy. They’re all envious that I have such a beautiful, gorgeous man in my bed.” You continue to lavish praise on him, hearing his deep inhale and feeling the twitch of his hips as your words roll over him.

“Please, darling,” Loki begs softly. 

Looking up, you see those beautiful eyes trained on you, watching, waiting. You run a hand soothingly along his thigh again and finally take his cock back in your mouth. 

His groan is deep and primal sends heat coursing between your own thighs, but your focus remains entirely on him. You worship him with your mouth, taking as much of his cock as you can until he’s a whimpering, whining mess above you. 

He writhes in the sheets, tugging violently on his restraints and rolling his hips almost frantically into your mouth. You don’t pause for even a second, don’t slow or ease until you feel his entire body tense and he spills into your mouth. 

You eagerly swallow every drop of him, listening to the melody of his broken gasps and moans until he’s totally, utterly spent. 

He whimpers when you kiss the sensitive head of his cock, and half lidded eyes follow you as you crawl back along his body. 

“There’s my good boy,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Five minutes, and then we do it all again.”

Tonight, afterall, was all about him.

[poguesprincess]

please more teasing bff!jj i’m so down bad for him. wanna give him a lap dance and watch his face get all red🤩

luckily for you teasing bff!jj (or any jj) is my brand! i kinda strayed away from the ask a bit but hopefully the point still stands.. here you go sweetheart <3

♱ ‧₊˚ jj maybank is your best friend.

you remind yourself this as you stare at him from across the crowded room. what he’s brought you to doesn’t necessarily constitute as a party, but it’s certainly too large of a crowd to be considered a small gathering. whatever it is, there’s some faint music, drinks, chatter.

he was your best friend, and maybe it was the 2 or 3 odd beers you’d had already, but he looked, for a lack of better words, yummy. like one of your usual boytoys you’d seduce on a night like this. still slightly upset with him from whatever bickering argument the two of you shared in the car before, it also beckoned you to have some fun with him. rile him up. again, the drinks were talking.

which is why you slam down the half empty bottle in your hand on the counter, its contents splashing over your fingers and onto those of whatever boy had been talking your ear off the majority of the night, storming off and away from him without a word. jj catches a glimpse of you, and his focus drifts away from his own conversation. he’s your best friend. you try to remember this.

but, the closer you get, the more it slips your mind, and the more the drinks whisper how good he looks.

“i want to dance.”

“what happened to princess over there?” he points to the boy you were with before, and you not that you now have two men very clearly still annoyed with you.

“not good enough.” his face is full of protest, but he lets you lead him outside anyways, where the music is louder, the crowd is fuller, the consequences are duller. the two of you dance, but it isn’t enough. slipping from under his arm, you hold his hand in yours, back facing him, and your hips sway faster. jj maybank was an easy boy. a boy like other boys. you knew how to get back at him.

he’s hardly paying attention to you until he realizes the gap between you two is closing, his face pinking up at the proximity. jj never really knew how to deal with having a really, really hot best friend. he tried his best to ignore it. but it didn’t change the fact that he was painstakingly attracted to you, and that the girl he’d sworn himself off of was now slowly grinding her ass onto his crotch. chill, he told himself. just chill.

“the fuck are you doing?” are you trying to get me to fuck you?

“dancing?” you bring his hand down and rest it on your hip, encouraging him to take the lead (you knew he couldn’t). you could feel how tense he was, blue eyes boring down between the space where your hips roll against him. you can hear him utter a small fuck, hands shaky as he tries to keep his cool. you turn, and it takes everything in you not to laugh in his red hot face.

“jesus, maybank, is this how you get every time a girl tries to dance with you?” he’s sputtering, too focused on trying to seem normal— collected, in the public space, feet fumbling as he tries to hide his nervousness with his dancing. you’ve never seen him like this before. the thread snaps when you bend over slightly, hands on your knees, and you feel his strong arm grip yours painfully, practically dragging you as he makes his way back to his truck. you struggle to contain your laughter. he’s still red in the face when you turn to look at him, still spilling over his words as he tries to curse you out.

“think you’re funny, huh. real comedian over here.”

“oh, jay, you should see your face!” you’re doubled over at this point, clutching to his bicep, and he’s desperately trying to shove you into the car. “just get in!” he’s frantic, and you assume it’s because he’s embarrassed, but you can’t see the imprint of his hard cock in his jeans if you’re too busy giggling in his truck, rather than in his arms.

[folklorefairyy]

of glasses and grins - s.h

summary - in which steve really needs glasses but has a lifetime of insecurities that has him hiding them. lucky for him, his girlfriend knows just how to make him smile.

warnings - mentions of violence (punches), mentions of bullying (taunts/nicknames from other kids), insecurities, fem!reader, kissing and general relationship touching (nothing sexual), reader sits on steve’s lap

word count - 1.4k

authors note - this is inspired by a request from the lovely vic <3 which you can find here!

i know there’s a lot of headcanons about steve needing glasses due to his head injuries and that inspired his need to wear them more here! i remember seeing this months and months ago so if anyone knows any specific people that was big on that, i’d love to give credit!!

Steve Harrington had taken one too many blows to the head. On the receiving end of fists far too often it’s safe to say his body had felt their toll. His eyesight wasn't the best to begin with, having reading glasses in middle school. After receiving enough ‘geek’ or ‘four-eyes’ jokes he eventually put them to rest in the back of the drawer of his bedside table.

As ‘King Steve’ he ignored his need to squint when chatting in the back of class, or the migraine’s he’d endure, because he’d finally built an image he didn't want to tarnish. His reputation was fragile, and he'd much rather take a physical blow than one to his ego. Until he started getting hit, a lot, and suddenly the incessant migraines became more than a dull ache and the blurinnes was more than a smudge.

You had started dating Steve after highschool, not aware of past comments or cohorts, nor the journey that has led to your boyfriend constantly rubbing his eyes and having a few close calls with rogue tree branches when driving.

It was one movie night, snuggled on the sofa with your legs scrunched onto his lap, his strong arm pressing into your back and thumb smoothing over the exposed skin of your shoulder, that you finally voiced your concerns.

For the past half hour Steve had been watching the movie through one half-closed eye, trying desperately to get it to focus. Everytime you peered up at his face he simply looked down at you and winked, or stuck his tongue out, or did practically any adorably dorky facial expression you could name in order to distract you.

Raising your hand to thumb at his cheek, you whisper a ‘Baby,’ receiving a hum from him as he turns his attention to you. Steve thinks he could hear just about every pet name fall from your lips and never get enough of it; his heart feeling warm at the thought of being your anything.

‘Are your eyes bugging you?’ you prod softly. He shuts them with a sigh, head leaning into your palm which has spread across his cheek. He half-heartedly shakes his head no, more of a tilt than anything. Prompting again you plead, ‘Stevie, please don’t lie to me.’ Your voice is filled with such sweetness he feels guilty for all of his hiding, wondering how he could ever deny the honey in your voice.

‘A little,’ he finally confesses, voice more a whisper of breath than an actual sound. He feels a little silly, keeping his eyes shut to avoid his truth - that his eyes have been bugging him long before you got together. ‘They always hurt to be honest, usually just ignore it.’

His confession tugs at your heart, your sweet boy hiding a pain you can’t magically fix with the kisses and soft words you’d usually resort to.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ you ask feeling slightly wounded, like you’ve failed as a girlfriend for not knowing sooner. You move your thumb back and forth on his cheek, reassuring him you weren’t mad but concerned.

He peers up at you through heavy eyes, lips pulled between teeth in an anxious tell. ‘I knew you’d make me wear my glasses if I told you about them.’

You tut softly and lean to kiss between his brows, ‘Oh honey, what’s wrong with your glasses?’ The revelation shocked you momentarily, the prospect of your boyfriend in glasses a welcome image but an unexpected one.

He looks away from you again, old taunts swimming in his head. ‘I’d look stupid,’ he mutters. ‘You’d find me ugly or weird and wouldn’t want me anymore.’

You could sob at the confession, firstly for the inaccuracy but secondly because you can’t believe he’s been harbouring such insecurities. Moving to grasp his face in both hands you press a kiss to his lips this time, so sweet love itself bloomed between them. ‘Honey, if you need them to see you need them.’ Another meeting of lips to reassure him. ‘Plus I think you’d look handsome in just about any get-up.’ you whispered against his lips, brushing them with a soft smile.

The comment almost pulls Steve’s mouth into a smile of his own, but his past tugs them back down. ‘That’s real sweet baby, but no one else thought so and I wouldn't blame you either.’

At this point your desperation to have Steve rid himself of such thoughts takes over and you don’t think before you’re imbing onto his lap and squishing him to the sofa, face to face, chest to chest, trying very hard to make your point, as though the physical contact would make your opinion replace the one in his brain.

Eyes staring into his, but with an incredible softness that he always elicits, you try your best to convince him otherwise. ‘Firstly, Steve Harrington, glasses are a completely normal thing to have and so many people wear them. Whoever taught you otherwise can go suck it, and I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable wearing them.’

Your sudden brashness and the random full naming of him had his heart feeling a little lighter. You, however, were not done. ‘And secondly, my boyfriend is beautiful, and I know damn straight he is going to look so pretty in his glasses. If the mental images I’m seeing are anywhere near the real deal then I’m in trouble.’ A kiss to the freckles on his nose, your silent sign of ‘I love you.’ ‘I’m gonna have to fight off a lot of people when they get a look at you, trust me.’

At this he lets out a low chuckle, lips finally pulling into that grin you so love, the urge to kiss it only slightly overpowered by your pride in removing some of his sadness.

He leans up slowly and kisses your nose back, the smile still painting his lips as he pulls away. ‘Wow, sweetheart, you really do love me huh? Thinking I’d be wooing everyone and wanting to fight for me?’

Hands smoothing his hair back, you move nose to nose, their tips kissing, and whisper upon his growing grin, ‘Oh handsome, I’d go to war for you.’

At your confession, he pulls your body down to lay on the sofa, arms wrapping around your waist, and presses his weight into you, peppering kisses into your hair and your cheeks, until he finally reaches your lips. You’re both giggling, giddy with love and a connection between you that can't be described but only felt, for it’s uniquely yours.

He looks like an angel above you, hair curtaining his face, the halo of light from the lamp illuminating him in a honeyed glow. Hand returning to his cheek, it’s favourite spot to be, you press another kiss to his lips. ‘Can you please go get your glasses? I want to work out how many people I’ve got to plan on fighting.’

He presses another kiss back, ‘Oh my tough girl, how could I ever leave you unprepared.’ Steve pulls himself off you, not without reluctance and another peck, before running upstairs to venture in the spot of his drawer he always thought he’d leave untouched, trying to wish the taunts away but never quite succeeding.

As he crept back down the stairs that anxiety of being judged bloomed in his chest and he faltered on the last step. But then he spots the back of your head, perched on the sofa so patiently, knee bobbing up and down as your enthusiasm seeped through, and he knows, that you are the one person who could see past the glasses, who would love him regardless, and so he took the final step.

The creaking of the staircase grabs your attention as your eager head whips round so fast Steve swears you’ve given yourself whiplash. The biggest smile blooming on your face at the sight of Steve, a nervous smile on his own, decorated so beautifully with a pair of wide-lensed, silver glasses.

You rush from your seat, too gleeful to wait for him to come to you. Hands to face once again, cocooning it in that warm cage he so loved, you dote a hundred kisses to his cheeks, give or take, before leaning back to whisper softly, ‘Oh my beautiful boy, I am going to have to work on my punches.’

Steve let out a loud laugh, fresh with adoration, and pressed what was not to be the last kiss that evening to your lips. You were just so precious, true sweetness in your intentions. He may have thought he’d never wear them again, but he now thinks he won’t ever take them off, just to see that spark in your eyes reflected in the glass of his once hated frames.

[exhaslo]

Hi! I love your writing, especially what you wrote throughout Kinktober. I like to request something involving Miguel O’Hara.

So back on Day 30 of your Kinktober where you posted Villain!Miguel, it got me feeling things after reading the whole fic. Then a “What If” scenario came to mind: what if Spider!Fem!Reader was able to win the battle against Villain!Miguel and she would kidnap him this time to gather intel about Alchemax’s shady business practices (because she already knew the villainous Spider-Man is Miguel under the mask). While trying every way for Miguel to open up, but won’t budge unless he pleads a deal.

He’ll open up…if Spider!Fem!Reader has sex with him. Deal is sealed but the heroine warns the villain if he tries anything suspicious, he’ll receive more than pleasure.

- @club-danger-zone

Lissssssten, I read this at 3am when I woke up for work and been thinking about it ALLLLLLLL DAY!!!!!

Summary: Alternative Ending to Kinktober Day 30, Villain!Miguel x Hero!Reader

Original Click Here

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, corruption, dirty talk, p in v, restraints, rough sex, overstimulation, manipulation, wannabedom!reader

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

Everything happened so fast that you were still trying to process what had happened. You were responding to a new threat at Alchemax when it started. A new, strong and dangerous villain had appeared, but to your concerned surprise, it was none other than your psycho coworker, Miguel O'Hara.

Miguel was the son of Alchemax's own CEO, Tyler Stone. The proud and cruel son who shared his father's ideals. You had been Miguel's coworker for years and knew how crazy he could be. Miguel was obsessed with studying the genetic makeup of some of the heroes from the Golden Hero Age. Particularly, Spiderman.

Miguel tested on people without a care. One of his experiments ended up accidently biting you, turning you into the hero Spider-Woman. It was hard, but you had to keep your secret from the madman. Miguel was like a mad scientist. What was worse, was that he finally tested on himself. That new threat you were responding too was none other than him.

"Just treat him like any other villain!" You told yourself.

Honestly, you were not prepared. Despite knowing how Miguel was, you couldn't help but fall for the bad boy troupe. Miguel was just so good looking. If he wasn't so crazy, you'd probably had asked him out. Hell, you always folded whenever he asked you to do something for him.

"Alright. Let's get this started," You finally said as you entered the room where Miguel was.

Miguel raised his head, giving that cold stare he usually had. His eyes were a beautiful red shade compared to normal. You wanted to ask him why he tested on himself. You wanted too, but taking down Alchemax was far more important.

"Tell me everything you know about Alchemax."

Miguel watched you with amusement. He had been trying to get you in his clutches since you first appeared. This was as close as he was going to get. Miguel wanted you as a test subject. Miguel let you beat him so he could get close to you. Licking his lips, Miguel observed you in person. That suit was tight against your skin. If only he could just touch you. If only he could study your blood.

"Miguel, focus." You demanded. Miguel returned his attention to you. That mask that covered the top half of your face, "If you cooperate, I might let you off easy."

"You already know my name," Miguel hummed lowly, leaning back in his seat. The restraints holding him back, "I'm honored."

"We can work this out," You sighed softly, seeing that he was being unreasonable, "I'm sure-"

"I'll answer your questions if you answer mine." Miguel said with a cruel smirk.

You had to be someone he knew. He could sense it. Furrowing his brows, Miguel noticed that his sense of smell had become stronger. This was getting interesting.

"D-Depends on the questions." You told him, biting your lower lip.

Miguel's eyes sparkled. There was one person who would bite their lip whenever they got nervous. Miguel inhaled deeply as he felt excitement run through his veins. It seemed like he was going to get his experiment after all.

"Oh, (Y/N), you've been keeping this secret from me this whole time? I gotta say, I'm a little hurt." Miguel's tone was cruel as he watched you flinch.

"N-Now we're getting off topic. Alchemax has been-"

"(Y/N)," Miguel changed his tone into a sweeter one, knowing how to manipulate you, "Why don't I answer all your questions if you just do me one little thing."

"T-That's not my name, b-but what is it?" You stuttered.

Miguel noticed your scent change into something sweet. His pupils dilated as he felt something in him grow hungry. Yes, this was a good reaction. Miguel was going to play his game.

"I'll tell you everything if you have sex with me." He told you, his words dripping like honey.

"Se-" Oh, you were folding.

Your heart nearly stopped as you tried to come up with a proper response. You had only imagined a moment like this. The amount of nights you masterbated to the thought. Slowly approaching Miguel, you knew that this was a horrible idea. What hero would give in to a villain? What hero would willingly have sex with an enemy?

"F-Fine! But if you try anything, I'll make sure that you'll receive more than just...pleasure," You huffed.

Honestly, you were nervous. What the hell could you do to him if he tried to make a move? Not wanting to think about that, you just played along. You were going to be the dominator in this moment. Miguel was tied up to the chair.

"Would you take your mask off for me?"

"Don't push it."

You fixed your hair, getting on your knees to undo his feet restraints. Despite Miguel being evil, you still wanted him to be comfortable for this. Once you loosen the restraints a little, you proceeded to undo his pants. Your fingers trembled as you stared at his large erection. He had already gotten hard just from asking you!

Miguel watched you in amusement. You smelled so scared, yet so sweet. You slowly stroked his dick as you undid a small, hidden zipper from your suit. Miguel's smirk widen,

"A zipper?" He questioned with a low groan. You pressed his tip, biting your lower lip,

"Y-You try going to the bathroom with this on! I had to make adjustments!" You huffed.

Once you thought you were ready, you sat against Miguel's lap and tried to slid onto his dick. You whimpered, unable to do so. Miguel leaned his head into your neck, inhaling your neck. You gasped lowly as he licked your cheek. You could feel fangs. Miguel never had fangs. You tried to move away, but Miguel nibbled against your suit,

"It's never going to fit unless you let me help, carino (sweetheart)" Miguel groaned lowly. You whimpered as you decided to rub your hips against his dick,

"I-I'm taking control."

"I don't think you can," Miguel's tone turned cruel once more as he grazed his fangs against your suit, "You smell so sweet. All for me."

"Don't flatter yourself," You gasped lowly as you started to get into the pleasure, "T-This is just...for information."

"Sure, (Y/N). My little (Y/N), the super hero. The perfect test subject right in the palm of my hand."

"S-Stop...c-calling me that," You begged.

Every time Miguel said you name, it sent shivers down your spine. Once more, you tried to slid his cock inside you. You whined and cried out as you managed to fit the tip inside your tight pussy. He was too big and you were not prepped enough, but you had to try. If you let him go, who knows what he would do.

"Treat this like another battle, (Y'N). You can handle it. If not, I might have to fight back."

You yelped as Miguel thrusted his hips up ever so slightly. Your walls tighten around his tip, begging him to wait. You were supposed to take control. You had to take care of this. You could only whimper and cry as you finally fit him fully inside you.

"What a perfect fit. Aren't you a good little test subject." Miguel whispered in your ear as you held onto him, "Now start moving. You owe me for keeping this secret, (Y/N)."

"M-Miguel...I...I said..." You whined as you started to bounce against his cock, "A-Ah~ Hah~ I-I'm in...mhm...c-charge."

Each time you bounced against his dick, you felt your body jolt in pleasure. Drool nearly rolled down your mouth as you started to ride him faster. His dick hitting your cervix with each thrust. Fireworks went off in your brain as you felt a hot, tight knot about to explode.

"That's right, (Y/N), you were made just for me." Miguel used his teeth to pull your mask down. Your fucked out expression turned him on more, "This chemistry we share must be explored more!"

"M-Miguel~!" You cried out, shaking as you reached your orgasm. Miguel licked his lips as he kept moving his hips, thrusting inside you,

"I'll tell you everything you want to know, (Y/N), you just have to keep up your end of the deal. You will, won't you? Or do heroes lie?" He said with a devilish smirk.

"Y-Yes! I-I will!"

You moaned softly as you felt Miguel cum inside you. Your vision blurred slightly before you calmed down from your high. Gasping, you immediately fixed you mask and scooted off of his lap. You fixed yourself up and gave him a slight shock from one of your web shooters. Miguel hissed in pain,

"I-I told you I would punish you if you tried something!" You cried out, huffing your cheeks out. Miguel just chuckled,

"I'm a Villain, did you really expect me to play fair?"

You whined softly, but to your surprise, Miguel did share some information with you. He only gave you a little bit and told you that if you wanted more, you had to keep meeting him. You were hesitant at first, but you kept telling yourself what was the harm?

----------

"You've gotten used to this, huh, (Y/N)? Can't do anything without this villain's dick inside you?" Miguel whispered harshly as he pounded your pussy from behind. You held onto the wall, moaning loudly from pleasure,

"T-This is j-just f-for information-" You tried to say. Miguel just roared in laughter as he held your hips higher, slapping himself into you,

"Sure. Just admit that you can't do anything with me. I'm the villain who corrupted you."

"N-No, t-this....this is f-for ah~ w-wait...s'much..." You cried out as Miguel started to pinch your clit, "M-Miguel...I-I said-"

"That I can do what I want as long as I help you arrest my father. I'm doing a good deed here,"

Miguel just watched you break under him. The amount of orgasms he had drawn out of you this past week alone was an accomplishment. The amount of times you kept coming back to him for more 'information' was just delicious. This was a game he wanted you to believe that you were winning.

Giving you another load of his cum, Miguel watched in amusement as your body twitched for more. He pushed his fingers inside you, wanting to keep the cum inside. Miguel wanted to experiment with you more. With a lick of his lips, he leaned towards your ear,

"You know, after I help you arrest my father, you're still going to need information to take down other big bads." You whined, trying to move away from him,

"I-I will be the judge of that. Who's to say I won't have you arrested?" You warned, moving away to fix your zipper. Miguel just laughed in response,

"You would never."

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

Gosh, I can't wait to write the Villain!Miguel series!!!

[dakotalun]

More Than Friends Part 2 | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: PART 2-- You and Eddie have been "friends" for a while, but you can't help but notice something off between the two of you lately.

warnings: oral (f. receiving), praise kink, pet names (good girl, baby, sweetheart, good boy, pretty boy, princess), switch!eddie, fingering

word count: 4.1k

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get to this, shit's been busy.

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

You drive the empty roads until you reach his trailer. You notice that his uncle’s truck isn’t outside like it normally is, guess he’s at work. Eddie parks and hops out before running to your side of the van and opening the door.

“Come,” It’s not a request, it's a command, which you follow obidiently. You take his outstretched hand and let him help you out of the car and towards his home. You grow more and more impatient the longer he takes to open the door. All you want is to kiss him and claim him as your own.

Finally he opens the door and pulls you inside, not even closing the door fully before pushing you against it and capturing your lips in his. The kiss is more heated than last time and it makes your core tighten at the feeling of his tongue with your own.

His body pushes against your own, shoving you further into the solid piece of wood on your back. You can’t even focus on that because this feels too good to stop.

The way his lips move over yours is so captivating and wonderful that you start to lose balance. Luckly Eddie was holding onto your waist to keep you upright. The grip he has on you is strong for him being such a skinny guy, but you prefer it this way. Secretly muscular but doesn’t show it. It’s sexy in a way, it’s what drew you to him sexually in the first place.

Eddie slowly starts to glide his hand under your shirt and glide his fingers across your hot skin, tracing with a feather light touch. He’s going slow, memorizing every dip and curve of your body, engraving it to memory. This is one thing he never wants to forget.

“Bedroom,” It’s all you can utter as your mouth pulls back for a split second to breathe.

“Up,” Eddie bends down slightly to lift you off the ground and carry you into his room. The walk isn’t long but it feels like forever when all you want is for this man to tear your clothes off right now and take you and mark you as his own.

Eddie kicks his door open and closes it the same way, you still being held tightly in his arms. Your head is near his neck, face buried in his hair, which still faintly like his coconut shampoo. You trail your lips down the side of his neck, trying to leave a few bruises in your wake. He clearly isn’t going to let you get that far because just as you start to make progress on one he throws you down on the bed.

You bounce slightly upon impact and adjust yourself to be further towards the headboard. Eddie is standing at the edge of his bed, not moving a muscle, staring. He’s taking in this moment and preparing for all the ones to come. You notice the look in his eyes and decide to give him more to look at.

You grip the hem of your shirt and pull the thin, loose piece of fabric off, tossing it somewhere in the room to be searched for later. Eddie’s eyes nearly pop out his skull at the sight of your red lace bra. You didn’t think this was going to happen, today or anyday soon, but still you felt cute so why not dress it too.

“Shit,” Eddie is at a loss for words. The way your boobs aren slightly peeking out over the top of your bra and the roundness of it, if he could get any harder he would.

“Like what you see?” You whisper seductivley at him.

“Damn right I do,” He crawls over your body, hovering over you and not taking his eyes off your breasts.

You put a finger under his chin and lift it to face you, “Eyes are up here baby,” The nickname just came out, something you would say on any other day, but the way he shutters under your touch is unimaginable. 

“Aw pretty boy like it when I call him baby?” Eddie nods rapidly. The speed that he can go from domineering to submissive is quick and simple, just like you like it.

“Want me to take it off?” Once again he nods, “Words pretty. I need words.”

“Yes. Please, Jesus Christ please,” He nearly moans out the words, too far gone mentally to cope with your teasing.

You reach your free hand behind your back and unhook your bra, letting it drop from your body. Eddie tries to veer his focus there but you keep his face still before he can.

“Not yet. You next,” In record time Eddie has tugged off his shirt and thrown it across the room, “That’s my good boy. You can look now.”

Eddie doesn’t wait a second longer, his eyes are magnetised to your chest. The flesh there is the perfect color and size for any man but Eddie isn’t picky, not with you at least.

“You're perfect, baby. Can I touch you?” “Sure, only since you asked so nicely,” You plant a kiss to his lips before laying fully on your back. 

He takes his calloused hands and roams them up your body, finally being able to envision the curves he traced just minutes earlier. His hand grabs and squeezes your breasts, massaging them which causes you to moan.

“Oh, did I find something that you like?” His voice is slightly condescending.

“Mhmm,” You pull your bottom lip into your mouth to stifle the moans.

“No. No muting those pretty little moans baby, I need to hear you fall apart under me.”

He dips his head down to lick your nipples, taking one in his mouth and nipping it lightly. Just to test the waters. You’ve never had someone tease you like this so this is foreign territory for you, the feeling making your back arch. He massages one while using his mouth on the other before switching.

The things he does to you makes your eyes roll in the back of your bed and stars to appear in your vision. The time and care he takes into making you feel good before himself is more than anyone before.

Once fully satisfied with the bruises he left behind he trails his kisses downt he length of your body.

“Eds, what are you-” He shushes you.

“I gotta take care of my baby. Let me do this, please. I might want this more than you do right now,” His eyes are soft and gentle again, showing the vulnerability that only you get to see.

“Okay,” It’s barely audible but he hears it, and that’s enough for him.

His fingers go to the waistband of your shorts, his eyes never leaving yours, silently asking if everything he’s doing is okay. You don’t complain to anything, you nod along because you too need this release.

Eddie unbluckles your pants and slips them down your legs along with your underwear, leaving soft kisses in the path. Once the shorts are off he looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time tonight. The emotion he feels is inexplicable and he doesn’t want to change that for anything else in the world.

His hand are rubbing your thighs, soothing the anxiety he knows you feel at the moment.

“I need you to relax sweetheart. This is only gonna hurt if you don’t relax,”

“Mhm okay,” You try your best but the throbbing is too intense.

“Hey look at me,” You continue to look at the ceiling, “Look at me,” Your eyes drift to his, “You trust me don’t you?” You nod, “Then let me do this for us okay? I will make you feel so good.”

The mixture of love, lust and trust you feel for the man laying between your legs right now is palpable. His hair is messy from your hands and his lips are swollen from all the kisses. He looks so love drunk that you almost wanna giggle at him.

“Alright. I trust you, always have.”

A smile breaks out on the brunette’s face, his dimples coming out of hiding. “That’s my girl,” He comes up to give you a kiss before returning to his previous pootion between your thighs, “Tell me if you need me to slow down or stop or anything. You say it and I’ll obey.”

Before you can protest or even reply back he starts kissing your inner thigh, the flesh being an easy material to bruise. Slowly the kisses trail higher and higher getting to your core. The anticipation is killing you, you need him on you and now. 

You whine out loud, hoping he will take the hint and use you like he wants but this seems to only spur him on to tease you more. The feeling of his tongure just barely on you, so close yet so far is aganizing. You buck your hips up on impulse, unable to control your body movement anymore.

“Patience baby, patience.”

You groan and flop your head back on the pillow below, knowing that he’s not going to give you what you want anytime soon. But to your surprise he dives in once your head hits the pillow. His tongue laps at the juices dripping out of you and he takes every last drop like a starved man. 

The moans you let are near pornographic, they sound so fake that even you can’t determine if they’re really coming from you or not. Eddie is hearing you and puts more force and effort into his minastrations. Pullling gasps and moans and begs out of you every second.

“There you go baby. Fall apart for me, you’re doing so good,” He praises you and talks you through the entire thing. It calms you but you also wish he would just shut up and continue working. Just as the thought enters your mind Eddie takes one of his fingers and inserts it into you.

“Still with me baby?”

“Mhmm.”

“Alright. I’m gonna add another now. IS that okay?” His voice is soft again, gentle.

“Please,” It’s the only thing on your mind. Eddie takes his finger out just to indert it and another into you a second later. He keeps a steady speed, not overworking you just yet he’ll save that for another day.

The feeling is making you fall apart around him now, moans falling from your lips at a rapid speed. Eddie is listening to not only the moansm but they way your body reacts to his movements, trying to pull this orgasm out of you quickly. He’s rutting against the bed trying to fight off his own. He needs you to come first.

He picks up speed a littel bit, feeling your wall contract around his fingers.

“Cum for me. Come all over my fingers like the good girl I know you are,” You can’t tell if it’s his words or his fingers that make you fall over the edge but you get there and it is earth shattering. Stars fill your vision and your back arches high off the bed. Eddie talks you through it, all the while still pumping his fingers in and out, trying to extend it for as long as possible.

As you start to come down he pulls away from you and stand back up. His pants now have a large cum stain on them but he could care less, as long as it was caused by you. Eddie changes into a new pair of boxers while you lay on his bed, still feeling the after shock of the orgasm.

“Fuck,” You’re out of breath and panting, “Why didn’t we do that sooner?” “Probably because you tried to hide your feelings for me?” Eddie crawls into bed next to you, pulling you close.

“Oh shut!” You hit his chest, “Do you need me to…” You glance down to his now covered bottom half.

“No need, I already did that while I was taking care of you.”

“REally? You came just from eating me out?”

“I could cum just from staring at you princess. Now let's get some sleep, you’ll need your energy for the next round.”

“Next round?”

“I’m not finished with you yet,” Eddie kiss your forehead as you snuggle up close to him, loving the way the two of you mold together.

---

You open your eyes to see the sun pouring into the room, lighting up the bed. You rub your eyes and get used to the bright light. You can feel Eddie’s arms wrapped around your waist and look back at him to see him sleeping soundly, he always looked so peaceful while he slept. You stared at him for a moment longer taking in the moment; the quiet, the calm, then as softly as you could you moved his arm off of you and slid out of the bed.

Almost immediately after you leave the bed he rolls over and starts cuddling the pillow next to him, how cute. You start to look around the room for a shirt to put on but all you can find is your fancy clothes from last night so you go into one of his drawers and pull out a casual t-shirt and slip it over your shoulders. He’s so much bigger than you so the shirt is almost a dress on you, you find the underwear from last night and put those on as well.

You walk towards the door ever so quietly, trying not to make a single noise in case it wakes him up. You get to the door without a sound, and just as you’re about to open the door to leave you hear voices outside the door, they’re quiet, almost a whisper. You put my ear to the door and listen in on them;

“Honey, do you want me to start the coffee for you?” A deep and rugged voice says.

“Yes please, that would be wonderful!” The other voice replies, this one more light and airy.

“Ok it should be done in about 10 minutes, I’ll make some breakfast while we wait.” The voice gets quieter as you hear the footsteps retreat further from the door. You assume the voices are Eddie’s uncle and someone else, you just couldn’t figure out who. One thing you did know about Eddie’s uncle is that on Sunday he would make a big breakfast for the two of them, it was the one day Wayne had off and he wanted to give Eddie a bit of normalcy.

You always loved how they ate together on Sundays, it’s one thing about their family that you’re jealous about. You decide to go back to the dresser and find a pair of pants to put on. Going back over to his dresser and just taking a guess at where he keeps his pants, you grab a pair of his sweats and put them on, tying them tightly around your waist. You look back at the sleeping boy for a moment before walking back to the door and opening it, you hear the gruff voice again,

“Oh that must be Eddie getting up finally!” He sounds happy when he talks about his nephew, almost like a dad talks about his son. He peeks around the corner of the kitchenette to see if he was correct, “Oh! It’s y/n, hiya darlin’. I haven’t seen you around here in awhile. How have you been?” He stops what he’s doing and heads towards you, bringing you into a tight hug,

“Oh hi, yea I’ve been good just really focused on school right now,” He releases you from the embrace, “you know how it is, gotta get prepared for college.” You smile at him as his hands fall into his pockets.

“That’s good, that's good, well I’m just making breakfast right now, I wasn’t expecting another person today but you’re more than welcome to join us if you would like.” He walks back into the kitchen to resume cooking, I follow behind slowly. 

“Uh I wouldn’t want to intrude, I know that Sunday is designated family time,”

“Oh don’t be silly, you are part of the family, of course you’re welcome to stay!” He sends me a big, bright smile. “Ok then I guess I’ll stay but only for breakfast, because I really should head back home before my mom starts to worry about me.”

“Of course, you aren’t allergic to anything right?”

“Nope, nothing food related anyways.” You sit down at the countertop and watch as Wayne flows around the kitchen effortlessly.

“Good, good.” As he puts the eggs onto the counter the bathroom door opens up and a woman comes into the kitchen.

“Oh hi, I wasn’t aware there was anyone else here,” The woman is short, with long blonde hair all the way down her back. Her eyes are bright and bold, reminding you of a princess of some kind.

“Laura, this is Eddie’s friend. You know the one I was telling you about, they’re gonna stay for breakfast.” You give a small smile and wave before properly introducing yourself to her.

“Well it’s great to meet you. Wayne has told me all about you and Eddie, you two seem like the perfect couple.”

Your cheeks flush and your mouth gets dry, “Oh Eddie and I aren’t- We’re just friends.” You say quickly. But inside you wish you were more, maybe last night changed a few things.

“Well why don’t you go try and wake up Eddie, he can be quite a handful to wake up. Breakfast will bne ready in a few” He laughs at his words, you laugh as well knowing it’s harder than he puts it. You open the door to find Eddie still fast asleep while cuddling the pillow. You walk over to him and sit on the bed, softly you brush the hair away from his face and smile at the little baby face he has whenever he sleeps. You lean down and kiss his forehead. “Wake up sleepy head, it’s already 11:00,” You hear him mumble something incoherent, “I’m sorry what was that?” You ask leaning your ear closer to him.

“I don’t wanna,” He buries his face deeper into the pillow.

“Aw, how come? Wayne’s making breakfast…” You know that food always gets his interest, and like always you were right. He opens one eye to look at you but rolls it and goes back to sleep. “come on Eds, get up!” You shake him to try and get him to acknowledge your exhistance. He groans and flips over to his other side so you can’t see his face anymore. Oh wrong choice buddy.

“Okay so that’s how it’s gonna be huh? We’ll see about that,” That causes you to get up onto the bed, sitting on your knees, and start jumping up and down. You could hear his groans protesting your movements, but you didn't stop. The more he grains just prompts you to jump up onto him and end up straddling his waist while you shake him to get up.

“I said get! up! I won’t ask again!” You rest your hands on his shoulders. He opens his eyes and glares at you for a second contemplating whether you would really do something or not. As you look at him you see his eyes darken and I get sort of scared for what’s about to happen next. He grabs your wrists and flips you both over so he’s now on top and your legs automatically wrap themselves around him to not fall.

“I said I didn’t want to get up. Why can’t you just let me sleep? Huh?” His face is inches away from yours, and you look up at him with a straight face.

“If you want to sleep so badly, why don’t you make me stop,” Putting emphasis on the “make me” part of it. And fully knowing what those words do to him, you brace yourself. He moves his hands so that one is holding both of your wrists and the other can gently wrap around your throat. Eddie crashes his lips into yours and forces his tongue into your mouth. You just kiss him back and allow him in. You moan quietly as he moves to kiss your neck, making him smile at the noise. You quickly try to move your hand over your mouth to stifle the noises but he has then pinned down tightly.

“No, no moving. This is what you get for waking me up,” Your breath hitches at his words and you bite down hard on your bottom lips as he continues kissing down your neck. You can feel him leaving behind a bruise but you don’t care right now, all you care about is him, and how he is making you feel. He starts to pull up your shirt but then there’s a knock at the door. “Did you manage to get him up? Breakfast is almost ready,” He quickly gets off of you and walks over to his dresser pulling out a pair of sweats and putting them on. You sit up and try to look decent enough for whoever not to suspect anything.

“Eddie?” The voice calls again to see if we’re both in here. Eddie swings open the door just as the knob turns.

“Yea, we’re up, we’ll be out in a second okay?” His face is flushed slightly and he’s breathing quickly.

“Okay, son but you guys should hurry up before everything gets cold, and put on a shirt please, we have company today.” He looks into the room to see you sitting up on the bed and sends a smile before heading back out, closing the door behind himself. You both let out a breath of relief that he didn’t stay long. Eddie walks over to you and crawls on top again, planting a quick kiss before lying down and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit that was close. Why didn’t you warn me that he was up, and someone’s here?” You slap the top of his head.

“I did you jerk! You just chose not to listen to me!” You start to run your fingers through his hair, soothing the spot you just hit and getting out any knots you encounter along the way.

“Mhm sure whatever makes you sleep at night, but I definitely don’t remember that,” He looks up at you and smiles. You give him another quick kiss before trying to get out of bed.

“Haha very funny, come on get a shirt on and let’s go eat,” You try moving off the bed but he tightens his grip around you.

“But I wanna stay like this forever. Can we do that?” His voice is sweet but you don’t buy it for a second.

“Nope we gotta at least try and make it look like we are just friends right now.”

“But why? I’m sure they already think something happened last night, seeing as though you’re here,” He releases his grip on you and gets out of the bed. WHile he searches in his closet for a shirt you walk over to his mirror to look at the damage he made.

“And if they do then that’s on them and their hunches but they don’t know shit, and we will keep it that way. Alright?” He groans and flops back onto the bed.

“Alright, fine,” He then gets off the bed and walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the bruise he just made. You start to pull your hair out of its bun and wrap it around your neck to try and cover it up.

“I like when I can see my marks on you, keep your hair up.”

“No way, did you not hear what I just said? If they notice then they will 100% know we did something last night.” You find a way to cover the marks and start walking towards the door, “So no, they stay covered,” You turn the knob and start to walk out but Eddie pulls you back in and plants a long kiss onto your lips.

“Fine then but you will keep your hair up once you leave here, no exceptions,” You just roll your eyes at him but agree and start to head out of the room again, him following right behind.

“Hey go put a shirt on,” You push him towards the dresser, “Wayne wants you to be decent since you have company today,” You say the least part like he did. He leans his head back exaggeratingly but puts one on before walking back to you.

“Is this decent enough, m’lady?” He makes a large bow towards you.

“I would say yes, kind sir. Now shall we go and enjoy a wonderful meal prepared by your parental figure?” He nods his head and opens the door for the both of you.

[headkiss]

single thread (pt. 3)

part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: spiderman!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you know steve’s secret, but he has another; he loves you. of course, you love him, too, and things change.

word count: 9.3k

warnings: spiderman!steve au, fluff, smut (thigh riding and a hj), mentions of a car accident (nobody gets hurt), idiots in love!!!!!!

a/n: she’s here!!!! thank u guys so much for ur support on this mini series, i have loved writing it so so much <3 this will be the last long piece, but if you guys have requests for blurbs from this universe, i’d love to have them!!!

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

You’d never been that great at puzzles, at figuring things out quickly without hints. But for some reason, this was something you’re pretty sure of.

Steve is Spider-man. He’s the one who saved you, who saves people every day, and he keeps it hidden. You understand why he does, and you’d never want to pressure him into telling you something he doesn’t want to, you only wish he knew you were ready to listen. Whenever.

You’re not that strong, but you’d take some of the weight off of his shoulders if you could.

The news plays on your TV now more than ever, as more than just background noise. Your eyes focused on the screen whenever Spider-man is mentioned, analyzing the way he moves, the familiarity of the hand gestures when he speaks, the gentleness when he makes sure someone’s okay.

It isn’t only on the news that you notice things, either. Seeing Steve as often as you’ve grown to, you seem to find more tells constantly. How he can catch a glass before it spills without even looking, the way he’s on edge sometimes, like he can’t focus on one single thing.

You see Steve often, and the clues are there, and he still hasn’t told you about it.

It’s not that you expect him to tell you, or that you’re angry he hasn’t. It’s just been hard to pretend like you don’t know why he’s limping or like you’re still clueless to it all. He’ll tell you on his own time, or maybe he won’t, but you’ll have to be okay with that.

You’ve convinced yourself it’d be best not to tell him you knew. He’s probably stressed out enough, and you didn’t want to add to that if you could avoid it. You’ll be there for him either way, that’s what’s important.

Besides, on top of you figuring out he’s Spider-man, you’ve finally acknowledged the feelings that have been there for a while. The serious ones, the four letter ones. They’ve been on your mind more than anything.

You’re in love with Steve, that’s something you could tell him, in theory, but you can’t bring yourself to. You’d hate to ruin the only real friendship you’ve managed to build since moving.

So, he’s not the only one with secrets after all. He’s Spider-man, you know that he’s Spider-man, and you’re in love with him.

Lately, you’ve actually been thankful for how quiet things have been at work. Your head’s been loud enough. The thoughts of Steve, of trying not to give anything away every time you look at him, of whether he might be going to patrol whenever he leaves.

It’s all-consuming. Pathetic, even.

And it’s what’s on your mind—once again—as you walk home from your morning shift at work. The sun’s out, your eyes squinted when it hits your face. The breeze around you is still chilly, but the promise of spring and warmth is nice.

You glance over to the newsstand you always pass going to and from work, checking the picture on the front page to look for a certain mask. Today, it’s there, and you pause to look at it.

‘Spider-man catches culprit behind string of armed robberies.’

Skimming the article, your heartbeat picks up. The danger this boy puts himself in for the sake of other people. The injuries you’ve seen him come home with. You shake your head and keep walking.

“Mom, look!” A little boy says, urging his mother towards the newsstand. “It’s Spider-man!”

You turn around, a small smile on your face as you see the mother buying her son a copy of the paper. You guess you’re not the only person who can’t keep away from that hero.

Then, there’s a little glow in your chest, the reminder that you’re lucky enough to know the person behind the mask, too.

-

Steve thinks that telling Robin about you might’ve been a bad idea, because she looks like she might slap him right now.

“You’re telling me you kissed her, then told her it couldn’t happen again, and yet you still have that look on your face when you talk about her?”

Robin makes it sound very simple. To him, it isn’t.

“Well, yeah, but it’s complicated, okay? And I don’t have a look on my face, Robs.”

“You absolutely do, all moony and shit. If I didn’t want you to find someone so badly, I’d say it’s kinda gross.”

Honestly, Steve can’t even tell her she’s wrong. If the way he thinks about you tells him anything, it’s that he probably can’t keep it off his face. At the very least, he hopes that Robin can only tell because she knows him so well, not because it’s insanely obvious.

“Thanks.”

“Steve, I know you like her,” she says, gentler than before, careful not to scare him from the conversation.

I more than like her, he thinks. There’s a better way to describe it and he knows that. He may not admit it, not even to himself, but he knows it all the same.

Robin continues before Steve can reply, “and I know you’re scared, I do, but we both know you’d regret it if you didn’t give this a shot.”

He shakes his head. Somehow, every time he sees Robin, the conversation always leads to this. To you.

“I’d regret it more if I got her hurt.”

“Steve, I’ve known about you since the beginning and look at me. I’m right here, perfectly fine,” she holds her arms out, like it’s some sort of proof that she’s okay. “The worst I’ve done lately is scrape my knee, and that’s just because I’m clumsy, not because I know about you being Spider-man.”

He supposes she’s right, that she has a point here, but it doesn’t stop him from being afraid, from feeling an uncomfortable clench in his chest when he thinks about even the slightest possibility of putting you in danger.

“It’s different with her, though,” he says.

“Come on! Remember in high school when you had like four different girlfriends in a month?”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“Well, still. Where’s that part of you gone?”

“Um…”

“Shut up, I mean the part that was open to that. To trying to make connections.”

“Maybe the venom from the spider made it disappear.”

She huffs and sinks into the couch cushions. Steve’s always been stubborn, quick to deflect with humor or sarcasm when things get too intense. Too much.

Robin’s a good friend, the best one, and she can see him closing up, so she changes her approach.

“I just want you to be happy, you know?”

“Yeah, Robs, I know.”

“Can you just think about it?”

“About what?”

“Asking her out, telling her how you feel,” Robin lays a hand on Steve’s shoulder, gives it a small squeeze. “Don’t close yourself off to it completely.”

Steve’s hand lands on top of hers, squeezes it back before letting go. He may not have that many people in his life, but having a friend like Robin never makes him feel like he’s missing anything.

At least, he didn’t feel that way until he met you. Now, he thinks about what it’d feel like to fall asleep and wake up with his arms wrapped around you, to be able to kiss you and hold you. To have that intimacy that you can only have when you’re in love with someone.

Fuck. In love.

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

-

The good thing about being lost in thought while you walk is that it makes time go by quickly. By the time you’re walking up the stairs to your apartment, you’re not even sure how you got there, your feet having been on autopilot.

Just as you’re fishing out your keys, there’s the sound of a door opening, a pair of voices following. One that’s practically engraved in your head. The other is of a girl, who seems to notice you standing by your door very quickly.

“Oh my gosh! Hi!”

You blink at her a couple of times, because she’s talking to you like she knows you, like you should know her. “Hi…?”

Steve’s leaning a shoulder against his door frame behind her, a scrunch in his brows and a shake of his head. It’s all you catch before she grabs your attention again.

“Sorry! I’m Robin, Steve’s totally, completely plantomic best friend-”

“Oh my god,” he mutters.

“You’re the neighbor,” she continues, saying your name to make sure she’s right, even though she seemed plenty sure of that already. “Steve talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. You try to hide the hopefulness in your voice, the happiness at the idea of him talking about you. All the time.

“Oh, yeah. You have made quite the impact on this guy,” she points towards him with a thumb over her shoulder.

“Robs,” Steve gives her a stare, eyes wide and—if the hint of pink spreading over his cheeks says anything—probably telling her to stop embarrassing him.

“What?” She looks back at him, all innocent.

“Don’t you have to get to work?”

“Okay, okay,” Robin turns towards you again, gives you a toothy smile that’s wide enough to have you sending her a small grin in return. “It was so nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” you say, and though she surprised you with a whole bunch at once, you mean it.

She pulls you into a hug and says to you quietly, “thank you for taking care of him.”

And with that, she walks away, retreating down the hall. Steve hears her, Robin knows that. Hell, she probably wanted him to.

He scratches at the back of his neck (that habit of his) and huffs, “I’m sorry about her. She can be sort of a lot.”

“Don’t be,” you shake your head. “She seems great.”

“You’d like her, I think. If you got to know her.”

He still seems nervous, like you and Robin meeting was a really big thing for him. And it is. The two most important people in his life meeting. Of course he’d want that to go well.

“Steve, you don’t need to worry, or anything. I already like her, okay?”

Anyone who seems to make Steve happier is bound to win some points with you. He deserves friends like that, especially with everything he has to carry.

“Okay, yeah. That’s good.”

He still seems nervous, so you step over and place your hand on his arm, giving him the lightest squeeze. He probably wouldn’t have felt it if it weren’t for how focused he is on you.

“I was just surprised, that’s all. Promise.”

Steve’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers gently, as if he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

“Thank you,” he speaks quietly. Two words he tries to tell you as often as he can.

-

Steve’s been visiting you at work often, sometimes with food, always with enough to brighten your day. Getting to spend that extra time with him is another perk of working when it’s not busy.

Today, he’s decided to surprise you rather than give you a heads-up over the phone. There’s a takeout bag clutched in his hand, and a little ball of nerves in his stomach. He shouldn’t be nervous, it’s only you. Then again, it’s you.

He opens the bookstore door, the small bell above it jingling. For once, there’s a customer at the register. You glance over at Steve from behind the counter, wiggling your hand in a quick wave before helping your customer again.

And just like that, there’s that feeling in his chest.

Steve waits by one of the displays as you finish up, trying not to make it obvious that he’s looking at you. There’s the soft smile on your face, the tone of your voice, the way the lighting hits your skin. It all has his heart going quicker.

“Hi, Steve,” you greet him once the customer leaves. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“Hi, honey. Kinda the point of surprising you with food.”

“Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully I picked something you like.”

From the packaging he’s seen before in your apartment, he’s pretty sure he did alright, but he waits for your confirmation all the same.

You open the bag he’d set on the counter, a small happy gasp that he likes way too much leaving your mouth, “yay! How’d you know I liked this place?”

He shrugs, “lucky guess.”

There’s a second stool behind the counter, and you pull it up for Steve without a word, patting the seat for him to sit down. He does, consumed by the brush of your arms as you unpack the food, the touch of your knees when you shift in your seat.

“Thanks again, Steve.”

“You already know I owe you for all the meals you’ve made me.”

“And you already know, you don’t owe me anything.”

You’re a kind person, Steve’s known that since he met you. So much so that you don’t even see the value in what you’ve done for him, like it’s the simplest thing for you. It’s the simplest thing to help him.

It makes him want to do things he said he wouldn’t. Things like kiss you.

“Anyway,” he shakes the thought away. “How’s your day been?”

You lift a shoulder as you finish your bite of food before replying, “been okay. I’ve had a couple more people come in than usual, which is good.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I love the quiet in here, love getting to just read behind the counter and call it work. But, it’s also nice to feel useful at least some of the time.”

“That’s good. What’ve you been reading?”

This is a question he loves to ask you, because you get excited to respond every time. He loves to watch you grab the book and show it to him, to see your hands flick through the pages as you tell him what it’s about, to watch the way your mouth forms the words you speak.

He loves to ask you, because he loves to listen to your voice when you answer. That word’s been in his head a lot lately. Love.

So much that he’s not sure it ever really leaves. It’s a lingering whisper, growing louder when he’s with you. Even after you eat, after the food’s been cleaned, as he walks out the door, the word stays.

“Bye, Steve, see you later!” You say as he reaches for the door handle.

He lets himself look at you again before leaving, his eyes lingering for a second too long. “Bye, honey.”

The bell above the door rings again as he leaves, but it isn’t loud enough to cover what’s rushing through Steve’s mind. I love her. I shouldn’t, I can't. I love her.

God, maybe he should talk to Robin again, he thinks. Or, maybe he could avoid the lecture he’s bound to get and take his mind off things the best way he can: putting on the suit.

-

Turns out that even when he should be focused on patrolling, his mind still likes to wander. That’s probably why he ends up stationed atop the building across from the bookstore, where your closing shift should be ending soon.

He ends up there most nights he knows you’re closing, really.

Before, when he couldn’t even let himself think about his feelings for you, he’d tell himself he stayed near the bookstore because it was a shadier area, more alleyways and all that. Now, though it sort of scares him, he’s able to acknowledge that it’s purely to make sure you’re safe.

He has a whole city to be protecting, but if his senses aren’t leading him anywhere else, he’ll always end up near you.

It’s sort of ironic. You, subconsciously looking for Spider-man everywhere you go, him being right there, and you don’t even know it. He’s so, so close.

Steve stationed himself across the street from you about twenty minutes before the shop was meant to close. His eyes squinted on his mask to see if there was anyone seemingly dangerous around, just in case.

Sometimes, when he does this, he can’t stop himself from thinking about that night when he found you in that alley. When his ears were filled with pure static until he knew you were safe. When he kneeled in front of you and brought you home. He doesn’t want you to go through something like that ever again.

The click of the bookshop door closing behind you has Steve’s heightened hearing turned on, knowing that you’re about to lock up and head home.

You feel like there are eyes on you as you walk. But, every time you look behind you, there’s nobody there. You’re just being paranoid, you tell yourself. You’re fine. And really, you are fine, because the eyes aren’t dangerous—though you don’t know it—they belong to Steve.

He hops across buildings as discreetly as he can while following your pace. Walking you home in his own, secret way.

The next thing happens in a complete blur.

You’re crossing at an intersection when a car runs a red light, speeding and crashing into another vehicle. You’re in the street, the two cars screeching on the pavement and heading straight for you. Even if you ran, you wouldn’t be quick enough.

But he was.

Steve jumped down before it even happened, his vision tunneling on that car, on you in its path. He just knew he needed to get to you first. He shot the web, swung down, and scooped you up right before the collision reached you. His heart pounding, his grip on you tight enough to knock the air from your lungs.

He lands and sets you down at the back of an alley, hidden from the bystanders that screamed at the sight of the crash, at the sight of him.

It takes you an entire minute of silence, of your chest heaving and your ears ringing to grasp what had just happened. How close of a call it was, how he was there to save you again.

Your vision is blurred by tears when you look up at him, at the red and blue suit, the mask. Your breathing is quick, panicked, but it slows the slightest bit when you look at him. Spider-man. Steve. The best boy ever.

When your eyes lock onto his face, Steve rushes forward, holding your face in a gentle grasp. It’s frantic, the way his hands shake when he reaches for you, the way his head tilts all over to make sure you’re okay. His thumbs brush away the tears that fall from your eyes, back and forth and back and forth.

“Hey, look at me,” he says, dipping his head down to make you focus on him. “Breathe.”

You shake your head, trying to calm down the best you can after coming so close. Fuck, it was so close. If Steve would’ve been a split-second later, you would’ve been hit. The thought doesn’t help you calm down one bit.

Steve can see the fear in your eyes, the quick rise and fall of your chest. It clenches his heart in a tight, uncomfortable fist, and all he wants to do is help you. So he lets it slip.

“Breathe, honey. Come on.”

Honey.

That’s all the confirmation you’d ever need. You were right. This is Steve. It’s Steve holding your face and saving your life.

You surge forward and wrap your arms around his neck, and his go around your waist instantly.

“Steve,” you breathe out so quietly, only he could have heard it.

His heart sinks and flips at the same time, if that’s even possible. It sinks because you know, somehow, and it terrifies him so much, he’s not sure what to say. But then, it flips, too, because there’s a relief that’s clear in your voice.

“How did you-” he starts, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Steve,” this time, your voice breaks when you say it.

Now isn’t the time to talk about this. Not when you were almost hit, not in public. Not now and not like this, Steve knows that. The break in your voice tells him to push that back for now.

“I’m gonna take you home, okay?”

He can feel you nod against his neck, so he lets go of you with one hand and keeps the other wrapped around you and starts swinging.

Right now, at this second, he’s not worried about how you found out, how you know it’s him. No, he only cares that you’re alive, that he can feel your arms squeezing around his neck, that he can squeeze you back just as tight.

As he swings with you clutching onto him, the realization makes his breathing stutter.

You could’ve died just then. In that fraction of a moment, you could’ve been gone without Steve ever getting the chance to tell you he loves you. He can’t let that happen. He’s gotta tell you.

It scares the absolute shit out of him, but he has to do something. He can’t lose you before working up the courage to tell you how he feels, before having the slightest chance at kissing you again.

He won’t let that happen.

-

Steve’s very gentle with you, even when he’s swinging from building to building with you in his arms. The sure grip he has around your waist and the smell of his cologne buried under the suit help ground you as wind rushes by.

You’re alive, Steve’s got you, and he knows you know.

Your eyes are squeezed shut the entire way, and in only a couple of minutes, he’s hanging onto the side of his building by his window and thanking himself for (once again) not locking it.

“Hey, honey, can you open the window for me?”

You lift your face from his neck and nod, twisting to lift it open. Steve’s supporting you with one arm and holding the both of you up with the other. The strength he has is incredible, especially when you’re seeing it first hand.

He helps you get into his room with a hand on your lower back, and lifts himself in right after you. You watch Steve’s back beneath the suit as he shuts the window, watch his gloved hands remove the web-shooters from his wrists.

Then, slowly, watch those same hands lift up to the edge of his mask and tug it off.

Your breath catches. You knew it was him, but seeing Steve’s familiar face and its prettiest combination of features be revealed is different, it’s real.

“Wow,” you say, though you hadn’t really meant to. It slipped. “Hi.”

Steve’s had a twist in his gut ever since he found out that you knew about him, and it only tangles more now that you’re looking at him with widened eyes. He doesn’t want things to change with you, and he’s so scared that they will.

What if you don’t want to see him anymore because of this? What if you’re angry with him for keeping it from you? What if you end up hurt because someone wanted to get to him?

“Um, hi.”

You step closer to where he stands by his side table, your hands twisting in front of you like you’re nervous, too.

“You saved me.”

“Just, uh, doing my job,” he says, shrugging it off.

“Well, then, you’re really, really great at what you do.”

You’re trying to be light with the subject, to take it at his pace given it’s his secret, his life. Steve’s quiet for a few moments, a flicker of something you can’t distinguish crossing over his face.

“How’d you know?” Is all he says, but you know exactly what he means by it.

“Saw Spider-man with the exact same injuries as you on the news. I guess I just connected the dots from there.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You reach for his hand and hold it lightly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, your touch can help to ground him as much as his does you.

“Don’t be, okay? I understand why you wouldn’t. I just want to be there for you.”

“I don’t tell anyone, really,” he starts, his grip on your hand tightening as he speaks. “Robin’s the only other person who knows. I don’t want to put anyone in danger so I… I just keep it to myself.”

You squeeze his fingers, trying to show him in any way you can that you aren’t going to run away from this.

“You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, Steve. You can talk to me or knock on my door whenever you’re hurt,” he shakes his head. “You can. I keep my first-aid kit stocked for you.”

“It doesn’t scare you? That you might get hurt because of me?”

“I’m not scared for myself. I’m scared for you. Going out every night and fighting the bad guys. I’m scared that you’ll get hurt, Steve. I’m not worried about me,” he glances down but you step even closer, making him look at you. “If tonight shows anything, it’s that you’ll save me from getting hurt either way.”

Steve’s hand that isn’t holding yours moves up, pushing your hair over your shoulder before landing on your face. The fabric of his glove rests against your jaw, his thumb running over your skin, his eyes searching yours for a single hint of insincerity.

He doesn’t find one.

“You’re really important to me, honey.”

“You’re important to me, too.”

You’re close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips, his forehead a whisper away from yours. Close enough that you catch the way his eyes flick down to your mouth and back up.

“I know I said we shouldn’t-”

“Kiss me, Steve.”

“Okay.”

The hand on your face tilts you upwards, and just like that, he catches your lips with his. You’ve kissed before and still, there’s a rush of butterflies in your stomach, a warmth spreading over your skin the way a blanket of sunlight feels.

It’s slow, it’s delicate, and it means something. There are a thousand words that neither of you can say buried in this kiss, in the gentle press of your lips. Words spoken with the tilt of his head to get closer, the squeeze of his fingers interlocked with yours.

Steve doesn’t ever want to not be able to kiss you again. Not when it feels like this. Acceptance and reassurance, softness and the sort of glowing feeling he’s only ever had around you.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far. Your breaths meet between your faces, mingling in the silence that follows. Steve rests his forehead against yours, your noses brushing.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you say. Because you’re still shaken from earlier, because you need the comfort that Steve seems to provide simply by being next to you, because you’re afraid that if you let him out of your sight, he’ll pull away from you again.

“You want me to stay with you?”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay, honey, I’ll stay.”

As long as you’ll have me, he thinks, I’ll stay.

-

Steve did stay that night. After you both showered and got ready for bed, there was a moment where he stood—almost nervous—in the doorway of your bedroom. You lifted the covers for him and patted the spot next to you, and that was it.

He stayed for breakfast, too. This time, it was him cooking for you, stood over the stove in your apartment. It’s a sight you could definitely get used to. Then, like he could get any sweeter, he even called into work for you, saying you should at least get a day after what happened the night before. What almost happened.

Really, as scary as the crash had been, what you’d been thinking about the most was the way he kissed you. The way you’d woken up in the middle of the night with his arm around your waist. The way you fell back asleep easily with him there.

It’s what you’ve been thinking about in the days since. What you’re thinking about even now.

You know that something shifted that night, with him finding out that you knew he’s Spider-man, with you being able to reassure him that it won’t push you away. You could feel that shift, like a tectonic plate.

Despite that, things have been quiet and relatively the same with Steve. You haven’t seen him all that much, but when you do it’s still friendly. Friendly with something lingering between you, unspoken and palpable.

It’s dark out now, the evening news playing on your TV the way it so often does. It’s static to you until you see footage of Spider-man from earlier, swinging around and fighting crime again.

Naturally, your first thought is Steve, and whether or not he’s okay. Before, when he didn’t know you knew, you’d keep all this worry to yourself, letting it build and build until you saw him again. Now, though, he knows you know and you can do something about that concern.

You push yourself up from your couch and head to your door. Knocking on his comes easy, and he opens it quickly, like he knew it was you.

“Hi,” he says. There’s a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Hi. Sorry for bothering you, I just- um. I saw the news and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Seeing you on the other side of his door already had Steve’s heart doing this silly flutter in his chest. Knowing you care enough to check on him this way does something else entirely. It floods from head to toe, the feelings he has for you. The ones he’s identified as love.

“I’m okay, promise. Not even a scratch this time.”

You nod, a pressure lifting from your lungs. You breathe a little easier seeing him unharmed. Seeing him in general.

“Okay. Good,” you should probably stop there, turn around and go back to yours, but you don’t. “I was just really worried, y’know, ‘cause I’ve seen you hurt and all, so I just wanted to see you and check-”

“Hey,” he grabs your hand gently, cutting off your rambling and tugging you into his apartment, pushing the door shut behind you. “I swear not every Spider-man thing I do is dangerous.”

“Yeah, okay, because swinging from buildings is super safe.”

“I’m a professional at that. Nothing to worry about.”

The wood of the front door is solid against your back, and Steve’s hand still in yours is the same. Solid, reassuring, sweet. Steve steps just a bit closer to you, so that you’re toe-to-toe and there’s nowhere for you to escape to.

His free hand reaches up to fiddle with the ends of your hair, gentle in a way that almost feels like you dreamt it.

“Did you really only come here to check on me?” He asks.

“Yeah, I did. Is that… okay?”

Steve wants to kiss you for that. He thinks you might want that, too. So, he dips his face closer to yours, lets go of your hand only to hold onto the nape of your neck instead. He hesitates, waits for you to push him away, but you never do.

Instead, you tilt your head and meet him in the middle.

You never knew that kissing someone could be so easy, that you could fit together so well that it just works. But that’s how it is with Steve, and you suppose that’s how it is when you’re in love. The pink haze and heart-shaped touches.

Steve doesn’t think he could ever get sick of kissing you, of feeling so light when things are often so heavy for him. When you pull away, he chases your mouth and steals two, three pecks from you.

Then, to answer your question, he says, “it’s more than okay.”

You only notice now that you aren’t distracted by his mouth on yours that your hands had found their way to his shoulders. It’s impossible not to notice the muscles under his skin, the clear evidence of his strength. Heat spreads through you, and you have to pull your hands away to speak properly.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” he tells you. His hand, still on your neck, squeezes so, so lightly. “I know I’ve said that we should only be friends, but that was before. Before you knew, and I was terrified of what could happen to you.”

“What about now?”

“Now…” He takes a deep breath, and focuses his eyes on yours. Whatever he’s about to say, he wants you to know he means it. “Now I can’t stop thinking about you and how it feels to kiss you.”

“I think about you, too.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, and though being honest makes you nervous, the smile that spreads over his face makes it worth it. So does the slight blush of his cheeks.

“I want to take you on a date. If that’s something you’d like.”

“I would really like that, Steve.”

Right then, there’s another shift, a bigger one. You both know there are feelings here. Big, scary feelings that you can’t say out loud yet.

-

Steve took care of planning the date. He wanted to surprise you, to impress you and do something for you this time. You do enough for him already.

Though Robin assured him—after all of her ‘finally’s and ‘I told you so’s—that it would be great, perfect, even, he’s still nervous when he knocks on your door. He’s shuffling on his feet, puffing out a breath as he waits, and then he sees you and the rest sort of melts away.

You open your door to find Steve with a picnic basket in hand and a slightly windswept bouquet of flowers in the other. You smile as he hands them to you and try to hide it by smelling the flowers.

“Thank you, these are beautiful.”

“‘Course.”

“I’ll just put them in water and then we can go.”

Your stomach is a mess of flutters and nerves as you fill up a vase with water and put the flowers in it. Sure, you’ve spent time with Steve alone time and time again, but never like this. It’s exciting and it’s scary, but the welcome kind of scary that comes with new things.

“You’re taking me on a picnic?” You ask, locking your apartment door behind you and then falling into step next to Steve.

“If that’s okay with you?”

“Sounds amazing.”

“My cooking isn’t as great as yours, I have to warn you,” Steve says, holding the door open to the stairwell.

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“It’s okay if you don’t, I’m just saying.”

He holds the door at the bottom of the stairs open for you, too. And then the one to exit the building.

As you walk along, Steve leading the way, your nerves fade, replaced with the familiarity and comfort of Steve’s company. Replaced with the feelings that sweep inside you like a huge bubble of pink bubblegum, so close to popping and spilling it all.

You talk aimlessly about anything and everything, and Steve does the same. You both try not to make the little catch in your breaths obvious when your hands brush.

He takes you to a park, one with big trees and a walking trail, with scattered flowers and the fresh smell of nature that makes you feel like you’re not even in the city anymore. He keeps going, and you keep following him, until he finds the spot he’d found before. A small clearing between trees, shaded by their leaves and just enough space for him to spread out the picnic blanket.

“Why have I never found this place myself?” You ask, looking up at the sky through the leaves.

“You like it?”

You nod, sitting down next to him on the blanket he brought. “Thank you for bringing me.”

He shrugs, “thank you for coming.”

You share a smile, a slow spread across your mouths as you look at each other for a moment. A smile saying this is real. Then, like it didn’t even happen, he starts to unpack the food.

Steve can’t even remember the last date he went on, but he knows that it wasn’t anything like this. He’s never felt this light around someone before. Somehow, you turn the bricks that weigh him down into feathers.

You’d thought it before, but you’re sure of it now; Steve is the absolute best boy you’ve ever known. The effort he put into making and packing up the food, the shyness he has about it all, like he should be embarrassed for being sweet to you. You feel unbelievably lucky that you moved into the apartment across from his.

The date goes by in a blink. You and Steve subconsciously moving closer and closer on the blanket, your thighs touching and your arms brushing. The food eaten between conversation and giggles. The picnic basket is now packed up again, the containers empty this time around.

You rest your head on Steve's shoulder and say, “thank you for this.”

Steve’s eyes close for a second, trying to memorize how this feels. He opens them and presses the gentlest kiss onto your head. “You’re welcome, honey.”

You stay that way and breathe each other in, once, then twice. That’s all you allow yourself before you stand and brush yourself off even though you weren’t dirty in the first place. Steve folds up the blanket and places it in the basket, and he stands, too.

This time, as you walk back to your apartment building, when your hands brush, you and Steve feel just a bit more confident, enough to reach your pinkies out to each other and lock them.

Steve’s the one who fully grabs onto your hand, letting your fingers intertwine. It’s how they’re meant to be, he thinks, two pieces of the same puzzle that just happen to fit together. You don’t let go for the entire walk.

Outside your building, neither of you really want to say goodbye, to end the date that feels like the beginning of something really, really good.

But, just as Steve lets go of your hand to reach for the door, he feels it. The tingling over his skin, the goosebumps, the static in his ears. He blinks and turns to you.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop, it’s okay. Just be safe.”

He’ll never understand how you’re so understanding, how you accept it so quickly. All he knows is he loves you for it and so much more.

“Thank you, honey.”

He presses the quickest kiss to your cheek, sets down the picnic basket, and then runs into the alleyway on the side of the building. When he emerges, he’s in his suit and swinging off.

He’d been wearing it under his clothes. Always prepared.

You pick up the picnic basket and walk up to your apartment half convinced that the last few hours have been some sort of dream. Too good to be true.

-

The issue that had Steve’s senses coming alive didn’t take long to handle. Still, he stayed out to continue patrolling, worried that something else could happen. Worried that it might be too soon to go back and see you again.

Not seeing you didn’t erase you from his thoughts. Not one bit. He spent the hours in the suit waiting for the city to die down, waiting for the moment his senses would quiet down enough to let him know he was done for the night.

All because he wanted to see you, kiss you. God, he’s so fucked.

You were faring pretty much the same. Only, you’d changed into your pajamas rather than a superhero suit, laying around on your bed with a book in hand to hear knocks on your door. Or, at the very least, to hear him get home safe.

When the knock comes, it isn’t on your door. Instead, there’s a tapping on your bedroom window by the fire escape. As soon as you hear it, you shut your book and turn towards your window, and there he is.

Steve hangs upside down, his head level with yours when you open the window to talk to him. If you weren’t so busy being in love with him, the sight would be sort of funny.

“Well hello, Spider-man,” you say, leaning your hands against the windowsill.

“Hey, honey.”

“You aren’t hurt are you?” You ask, moving your hands to hold his face, because you’ve seen him injured enough times to be worried about that, to know it’s a possibility.

“I’m completely fine.”

“You’re really okay?”

“Nothing hurts, I promise,” he says, shaking his head. How could it when you’re holding him like that, looking at him like that. Pain isn’t what he’s feeling in the slightest.

You’re not really thinking when you lean in and peck his cheek over the mask, but it’s enough to scorch his skin, to leave an invisible mark.

And Steve isn’t really thinking when he speaks, “have I ever told you that I think you’re really pretty?”

“You’re upside down,” you tell him, fighting a stupid, lovesick smile. “You must be seeing wrong.”

He ignores that comment and twists himself upright, then climbs through your window into your apartment. You have to back up to make room for him, and when his feet hit the hardwood floors, he’s only inches away.

“I’m right side up now. Still think you’re pretty.”

You’ve never been good at taking compliments, never really thought that people meant them, only that they were trying to be kind. Steve is different. You still don’t believe it yourself, but you can tell that he does. His voice holds enough emotion to do that.

Bashful, you walk around him to shut your window and then lock it. You try to keep your feelings off of your face when you turn back around and find him already facing you, his mask now off and clutched in his hand.

His hair is a mess on his head, his cheeks flushed from being upside down and maybe, just maybe from being so close to you.

“So, what brought you to my window?” You ask.

“I wanted to say sorry,” he says, scratching at his neck. That habit of his. “For leaving the way I did earlier.”

It’s a half truth. He wanted to apologize for that. But, mostly, he wanted to tell you he loves you. He’d been thinking about it his whole patrol. Thinking about when the right time would be then remembering how quickly things can change, how you’d almost been hit not so long ago.

With that, he decided that there wasn’t a right time, that he could lose you just like that and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let that happen. Especially not without telling you how he feels.

But, he’s always been more courageous with that mask on, and now, he just can’t get the words to leave his mouth. They hover on the top of his tongue, sticky and heavy.

“I told you it’s okay, Steve. I swear,” you step closer to him and reach for his hand, tugging the glove off before lacing your fingers with his. “I know that you had to, that this is a part of you and I’d never expect you to change or ignore it. I-“ love you, you almost say. But the words get stuck for you, too. “I care about you so much. Spider-man included.”

Every time Steve worries, even the slightest bit, that you’ll feel differently about him because of this, you prove him wrong. You say all the right things to make him feel better, to make him want to fall into you completely and never look back.

You’ve proven to him over and over that you’re in this, that you’re this dream of a girl that somehow ended up in his mess of a life. A mess you’re willing to join, helping him clean it without even trying.

You’re a dream, his dream, and he has to say it. He has to say it so he does, those sticky words forced off of his tongue in a breath.

“I love you.”

He squeezes your hand on the second word, like he’s emphasizing it. Love.

“I love you,” he says again, and you realize you’re not dreaming. He really said it, and he’s really looking at you that way with those soft, brown eyes. “You don’t have to say it, I just needed to tell you. I’ve never had someone make me feel the way you do. Never.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

Your heart pounds, thumps.

“I love you, too.”

“Serious?” He checks, because he thinks he dreamt it just like you had.

So you repeat it for him, “I love you, Steve.”

He leans in, not so afraid anymore, and places a hand on your neck, his fingers in your hair. The other hand squeezes yours again before letting go to frame your jaw and tilt your mouth to his.

It’s an easy rhythm to fall into now. Kissing him. And you feel yourself melt into him, your muscles relaxing, your body pushing towards his. Your arms are thrown around his neck, and all you feel is him.

It’s a delicate push and pull, a kiss that’s familiar but now has something new behind it. That acknowledged emotion, the reality of it. It has his tongue sweeping against the seam of your lips and dipping in when they part.

His hand is tangled tighter in your hair, and you’re not sure how long it’s been before you both pull away, breathless, chests heaving, matching smiles on your lips. Your noses still brush, and still, it doesn’t feel close enough.

Steve’s hands shift to run down your shoulders, then your arms, and back and forth.

“Does this mean I’m your girlfriend?” You ask, still breathing heavy, still feeling his breath fan across your lips.

“I’d like to think so,” he says, his hands now settled around your forearms. “If that’s what you want.”

You nod, kiss him quick. “Does it also mean you’ll stay the night?”

“As long as I can use your shower first,” he says.

“Good idea.”

“You saying I smell?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek. He smiles, and in turn, so do you, and it feels like the closest thing to perfect there could ever be.

-

Steve emerges from your bathroom with damp hair falling over his forehead and your clothes on instead of his suit. You lent him a t-shirt and a baggy pair of sweats that are still a bit too short at his ankles. You grin when you notice that.

And Steve grins when he sees you. My girl, he thinks. And it’s for real this time.

You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent and your book in your hands yet again. You needed to occupy yourself while he was showering, after all. Otherwise, you’d just think and think and think about him in the next room, his mouth on yours. His voice saying the words ‘I love you.’

He walks over and sits on the bed by your feet, his side facing you, but his head turned to look at you. Seeing him in your clothes, in your space, you think it’s something you’d like to see forever. Seeing you waiting for him in bed, Steve’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Hi,” you say.

Steve wraps a hand around your bare ankle, his thumb smoothing back and forth. “Hi.”

Though everything’s out in the open now, there’s a shyness there. Like two kids with crushes wondering what to do next. You’ve never loved each other out loud before today. It’s brand new territory.

But with that shyness, there’s so much more. There’s the knowledge of how it feels to kiss each other, to hold each other. There’s want to do it all again.

Steve’s other hand reaches for your book and sets it open and face-down on your nightstand. Then, he pushes your knees over so that he can lean in. He’s not fully thinking about what he’s doing, he’s simply listening to this thread that pulls him closer and closer to you until he’s kissing you again.

It starts with a couple of pecks, innocent, soft, quick. It turns into more and somewhere along the way you’re tugged into Steve’s lap, your knees on either side of one of his thighs. And somewhere along the way Steve’s hands have ventured under your shirt, running across your waist and up and down your back. He groans into your mouth when he notices the lack of a bra.

Steve tugs you impossibly closer to him, tugs you down so that you’re straddling his thigh with all of your weight. You inhale sharp and quick through your nose when he does.

It’s not long after that before you’re panting, unable to keep up with his mouth, and though Steve’s chest heaves, too, he doesn’t take the break to breathe properly. Instead, he dips his head to kiss your jaw, then your neck.

Your head tilts for him easily, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other tangled in the hair at the bale of his neck. You gasp when his teeth scrape against the skin behind your ear, your hips hurting unconsciously to rut against his thigh.

“Sorry,” you say, worried it was too much. Still, it comes out breathily.

He pulls back from your neck, looks into your eyes, his brown ones just a bit darker than usual. “Did that feel good?”

Your eyes search his face for an ounce of discomfort, of uncertainty. All you see is the kind of warmth that spreads through you, the kind of intensity that only comes with lust.

“Yes.”

“Do it again,” he tells you, his hands slipping down to rest just above the waistband of your shorts. He encourages you to move, his hands pushing and pulling. You move with him, slowly at first, letting out the smallest whimper when the angle is just right. At the sound, Steve says, “keep doing it.”

“Steve.”

“You’re okay,” his hands urge you forward again, his thumbs running back and forth soothingly. “I wanna make you feel good. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, because how could you not when it already feels so good, when he’s looking at you with kiss-swollen lips, messy hair, and wide pupils. When he’s looking at you like it feels as good for him as it does for you.

You move quicker, his hands encouraging you still. He kisses you again, kisses you until you have to pull away, your mouth dropping open, a moan slipping out before you can stop it.

Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and keep it, listen to it over and over. Because he’s the one who’s making you feel that way, he’s the one who has your hand tight in his hair. Because he’s thought about you before, and it’s nothing compared to the real thing.

The sweatpants you lent him grow a bit tighter, and his hands don’t stop guiding you over him. He wants to hear you make that noise again.

You drop your forehead to his shoulder, your thighs tightening around his, your clit catching on the fabric of your shorts and his (your) sweatpants enough to make you moan again.

“That’s it, baby. Doin’ so good.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called you ‘baby’ and you hope it won’t be the last.

“Steve.”

“I’ve got you.”

The hand that isn’t in his hair trails down his torso and rests above the waistband of his pants for a second. Your hand cups him over his pants, squeezing lightly and finding him hard. Watching you was enough to turn him on, and the thought makes you whimper again.

“Fuck. You don’t have to,” he says, taking a hand from your waist to pull your face from his shoulder, to look at you.

“Want you to feel good, too.”

There’s nothing but honesty in your words, want in your eyes.

“Shit, honey.”

“Will you let me?” You ask, your voice slightly strained from the stimulation you feel, your hips still moving.

“Yeah.”

Your hand slips under the waistband with his consent, and you wrap it around him, your thumb running over his tip. He groans and leans his forehead against yours.

You’re breathing the same air, moving at the same pace, and you don’t think it’s ever felt this right with anyone before. With Steve, you’re not thinking about how you might look and whether or not he’ll like it, you’re only thinking about being with him.

“I’ve thought about you before. Like this,” he says, a quiet confession broken up by heavy breaths.

“Me, too,” you reply in a gasp.

His hands are both on your waist again, squeezing your skin tighter because you have a hand wrapped around his cock and it has his head spinning.

“You getting close, baby?”

“Yeah, Steve. So good.”

“I know. Keep going. I wanna see you.”

His voice is tight, and he’s holding himself back though it hasn’t been long. Your hand is soft, running up and down and he hasn’t been with someone in so long. The fact that it’s you, right now, doesn’t help him last. Just kissing you would be enough, he thinks.

Your rhythm stutters, your eyes squeezing shut, and just like that, you’re tipping over the edge and coming on his thigh.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he hums, low and scratchy. “That’s it. Look so pretty coming on me.”

Your hand pauses where it was jerking him off, too caught up in your orgasm to keep going. You say his name, say it again, and he keeps you moving over him through it all.

“Fuck,” you open your eyes when the last wave draws away, your legs shaking slightly.

It doesn’t take you long to start stroking him again, up and down and back again. Steve grunts and his hips stutter upwards, chasing your touch. It’s your turn to work him through it.

“Gonna come, honey,” he warns you. “I’ll ruin your sweats.”

“Don’t care,” you say, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth. “I want you to.”

You run your thumb across the tip again and then his fingers are digging into your skin. He’s groaning and you feel the warmth of his come spill onto your hand. Neither of you had taken any clothes off and still, it’s the best you’ve ever had.

“Shit, honey.” This time it’s his head that rests against your shoulder. “I’m gonna need another shower now.”

You laugh breathily and pull your hand from his pants, wiping it off on the thigh you’re not sitting on, ‘cause they’re already ruined, anyway.

“I’ll get you another pair,” you say.

“In a minute. Can’t move.”

A minute is closer to five, and eventually he lets you go. You hand him a new pair of sweatpants, then clean up in the bathroom and change into different shorts. When you come back, he’s laying down under the covers in your bed. Twin smiles spread on your faces.

“You’re cute,” you tell him.

“So are you.”

You shake your head and flick your light off, the street lights flooding through your window the only thing left illuminating your room. You join him under the covers, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you and pull you into his chest.

Your head rests by his shoulder, one of your legs thrown over his. Having him laying next to you is much more comfortable than being alone.

“I love you,” Steve says, his lips pushing a kiss into your hair.

“I love you,” you say right back.

And then, just like you’d imagined so many times before, you fall asleep cuddling Steve. And just like he’s imagined so many times before, you wake up that way, too.

/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\

thank you guys so much for reading spidey!steve i hope u liked it!!!! pls pls consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought, i promise it makes a difference <333

[we-stan-cale]

I want to hear about your favorite moments in TCF.

I have a long list, but I'll start with one that I don't hear people talk about much - Cale's conversation with Lock and Raon the night before the battle at the gorge.

First, I absolutely love how Cale handled Lock here. Lock is feeling like a failure, guilty, a coward - a whole bunch of negative things because he's no longer able to use his berserk transformation, and he thinks it's because he's afraid.

Cale - acts normal. It's hard to describe what that means, or why it matters. He just doesn't make a big deal out of it. Not like he's dismissing Lock's fears, but also not like he thinks Lock needs to be reassured.

This is right after Lock told Cale he couldn't go berserk. Rosalyn is also there, and the 'she' it starts with.

She heard a quiet voice at that moment. Pat. “Why is a young boy like you so skinny?” Rosalyn could see Cale pat Lock on the back before heading toward the tent entrance. Cale opened up the flap in order to exit as he looked toward Lock. “Let’s go.”

Cale just... Doesn't respond to the fear, but does show care and concern. And just treats Lock like normal (except in this case that's not really normal).

He then basically gets Lock to focus on the here and now, so Lock won't go into that headspace where he keeps feeling like he's a failure. He's preventing Lock from spiraling as he keeps thinking about what a failure he is.

Cale started to speak as soon as the young boy stopped right in front of him. “Focus on my back. Follow behind me and don’t think about anything else.”

And then he invites Lock to dinner. Just Lock, Raon, and Cale. Cale lets Lock talk, and then said something I absolutely love:

Lock’s mumblings stopped as soon as Cale asked a question. “Would you throw me away if I was weak?” “What-” Something like that was unbelievable. Lock throw Cale away? Lock’s eyes opened wide in shock as Cale smiled back at him. “Lock, you wouldn’t, right?” Cale picked his fork back up. “So, don’t ask something so obvious. Just eat.”

I love my progression fantasy, but the protagonists in those stories almost always have the same solution for every problem - get stronger.

To hear the protagonist say something like this is just so refreshing. Like - your worth is not tied up with being strong. You are a worthwhile person even if you can't destroy a wall with one punch. You wouldn't throw away someone else just because they were weak, so why are you being so hard on yourself?

And Raon hearing this leads into the final part, the conversation they have as they prepare for bed.

“By the way, human.” “What is it?” Cale made eye contact with the six-years-old Dragon who stopped connecting the device and looked toward him. Raon looked at Cale and asked. “I cannot go through my first growth phase. Is that okay?” ...

“Didn’t I answer that last time? Don’t ask me something so obvious.” “…Is it okay if I am weak?”

...

“Raon, although I am weaker than you, I’ve lived at least thirty, no, fifteen years more than you. But I am still weaker than you. I am not even as strong as you front paw. Is that a problem?” Cale realized his mistake and quickly changed the years before looking at Raon. “It is not a problem at all.”

There's more, but I've already copied enough so if you want to read the rest you should just go check that chapter out.

The thing here is that Raon, who was supposed to go through his first growth phase, couldn't. It now looks like he was afraid of how weak and vulnerable he would be during that.

And Cale, dense though he can be, perfectly reassures Raon.

Now if only that lovely, dense and yet wise man could treat himself with a fraction of the consideration he shows everyone else.

[moonriverrise]

Dreams are supposed to be subtle messages from your subconscious, right? Then why the hell did Eddie keep having the same type of dream every single night. The same dream featuring the same boy with chestnut hair, doe eyes, and freckles sprinkled all over.

He didn’t know the boys name, but he’s around Eddie’s age based on looks. His hair is styled in a certain way, swooped to the side almost perfectly. He’s pretty strong looking and pale skinned, and has the most wonderful laugh Eddie has ever heard.

In the dreams that Eddie had, he meets this boy under a tree in a long sunflower field. He’s always there before Eddie, sitting with his back against the trunk of the tree, staring at the sky or simply laying with his eyes shut.

Whenever Eddie came up to him, he was greeted with the same phrase every time, no matter what differences are in the dreams.

“Hello, Sunshine. How are you?”

It's sweet, and it warmed Eddie’s heart in a way he never thought something could. Then Eddie would sit down and they would have conversations about their lives. Because, this boy had a life, probably something Eddie’s brain made up.

“Oh, and Dust thinks he’s so much better than me just because he’s good at Algebra. Who the fuck is good at Algebra?!”

The boy is entertaining, he’s funny, pretty, charismatic. One dream he has, turns a bit different after the greeting, which is said more solemnly. Soon afterwards, the boy asks Eddie something.

“Have you ever kissed a boy before?” He asked. Eddie has paused.

“What do you mean?”

“Uhm…do you ever think you might like boys the way you like girls?” And Eddie had to pause again, because, thats how he had felt. That’s the questions he thought about, the ones he had asked Uncle Wayne.

“All the time.” Eddie responded.

“Is it..normal?” Eddie looked over to the boy, who looks nervous, scared.

“Of course. You can like whoever you want. People who don't think that are stuck up pricks.” Eddie expressed. The boy had laughed, gently. Then laid his head against Eddie’s shoulder, and then shut his eyes.

“I have a friend, you know that one I mentioned, Robbie?” Eddie hummed. “She likes girls, only girls. I want to tell her about this, but I'm afraid. Even though I know she couldn't possibly be mean, I just don't want to be abandoned.” Eddie sighed.

“It’s okay. You just need to take your time with it, talk yourself through it.” Eddie advised.

“Sunshine?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie had paused, once again. He looked over at the boy, who looked up at him in response, through his lashes.

Eddie traced his face with his eyes, placed a gentle hand on his face, rubbed a thumb against the boys skin, who let his eyes blink closed. He leaned into Eddie’s touch, embraced him, his being.

Eddie leaned closer to the boys face. The wind whistled loudly, and birds sang in the background. Eddie let his other hand cup the boys face, and their lips met, slowly.

It was slow, but deep. Gentle, yet hungry. They parted and Eddie stared into the boys eyes, as tears settled in them. A brief flash of panic runs through Eddie’s blood…

The boy laughed, giggled like a birds song. He wiped his eyes and whispered into Eddie’s ear.

“Thank you, for all that you are.”

Eddie’s eyes had fluttered open that morning, and he felt comforted with a sense of kindness and the ghost of tender lips against his own.

Then, Eddie got up, and got dressed, ready to go to work at the cafe down the street from his apartment in Indianapolis.

Dustin walked up to him during his shift, he was wearing a hat from that summer camp he’d gone to a few years back.

“Hey Eddie,” He said.

“Hello, Henderson.” Eddie responded, giving him a look.

“Wow! Don't have to be hostile!” Dustin joked. “You know my buddy i've been meaning to introduce you to?”

“Your babysitter?” Eddie asked while pouring creamer into a cup of coffee.

“Yeah! Steve! He’s here, sitting next to me and Robin over there.” Eddie didn’t follow where he was pointing, instead decided to focus on throwing a portable cup onto the coffee then calling out the order number as he slid it across the counter.

“Alright, hold on dude. Gare! Can you take order for just a second! I'll be back in a minute!” Gareth groaned but begrudgingly walked over to the cash register. “Thank you, I promise to spare your next character in Hellfire.”

“You better, man.” Gareth responded as Eddie walked out to meet Dustin.

They both walked over to the table and Eddie froze entirely when he meets eyes with someone so familiar.

It's the boy from his dreams.

“Okay, Eddie this is Steve. Steve this is Eddie.” Eddie waved a hand in Dustin’s face to shut him up.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Steve. that was his name. He asked him that, and Eddie nodded slowly.

“I know you from somewhere too,” He responded. Steve’s eyes went a bit wide, and he stood, facing Eddie.

“Sunshine?” Eddie nodded, vigorously.

“Guys…” Eddie shunned Dustin with his hands again.

“Robbie is Robin- the gay friend?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. “Dust…that’s Henderson?” He nodded again.

“What the hell?-” Robin spoke up. Steve shushed her.

“You look exactly how you did before.” Eddie said to him. Steve smiled.

“You look even brighter in person,”

[bluecollarmcandtf]

The Disappointment

AJ kept a strong face, but his palms were slick with sweat. Tonight had been the first game of the season, and he'd choked. His teammates couldn't even look his way, but the Coach kept a glaring eye fixed on him. AJ prayed that the locker room would be short and painless, but he had no idea what he was walking into...

"Not you," Coach put a firm hand on AJ's chest before he could follow the team in.

The quarterback looked to his buddies for backup, but none of them bothered. Whatever lecture Coach had planned, he would have to hear it by himself. Internally, he was already groaning in frustration, but he kept up his trademark exterior and asked, "What's up?"

"You're a disappointment, boy," he growled lowly, pushing a fat finger into AJ's chest.

"What the hell!" AJ burst, raising his voice. He may have screwed up on the field, but he didn't have to listen to this crap, "Screw you! None of that was my f-"

"Don't talk back..." the old man cut in firmly.

AJ's mouth snapped shut. It wasn't something he did consciously, but he was too occupied by the coach's hostile behavior to notice.

"...I dumped too much money into this team for you to just throw the game away!"

The quarterback scoffed. He wanted to yell 'What money?' in the coach's face, but he stayed silent instead. His throat had somehow clamped up. Talking back wasn't possible at the moment, so he just rolled his eyes. AJ didn't really care what the man was talking about. He just wanted to shower, go home, and forget about this whole night!

"Put these on!" Coach spat, throwing a set of folded clothes at him.

AJ gave the worn bundle of clothes a look of disdain. His face was boiling with contempt, but he was more confused than anything. Why had Coach just tossed him these gnarly old rags. The thick blue cotton was stained and saturated with a strong smell of body odor. Whatever nasty freak had worn these before had obviously never washed them or himself.

There was no way in hell AJ would put it on!

"Yes, sir."

It took him a couple seconds to realize those words had come from his mouth. They sounded artificially casual in his throat.

For the first time that night, Coach had a grin on his face, but it wasn't a pleasant one. The old man calmly watched as the quarterback pulled off his muddy jersey and shoulder pads. AJ was of course panicking, but it was limited to his thoughts as his body moved on its own.

"That looks much better," Coach purred with an amused glint in his eye.

The quarterback's mind ran wild, and every muscle tensed up as he tried to break out of this tight grip. From the outside, he looked like he was standing tall, arms flat at his side, feet shoulder with the part inside that crusty old jumpsuit, but that did not match how he felt on the inside! AJ was grinding his teeth in the effort to cry out; his eyes itched from an unflinching glare at the coach; and his butt cheeks repeatedly clenched and unclenched as he tried and failed to move.

Even his face has been commandeered by whatever force had taken over him. His mouth sat in an emotionless pout when all he wanted to do was scream! Even worse, his nose was resigned to taking long even breaths that sucked in the musky stench of the nasty blue coveralls he had on. He was acting as if he were the calmest man in the world, but in reality, he was fuming!

"As I was saying," Coach continued, "You're a disappointment, boy. You understand that?"

"Yes, sir," AJ's voice jumped into action once again, leaving him even more worried.

"No you don't. How could you?" the old man sneered, "I told everyone to forget everything: how I paid a hypnotist to help the team focus on the field. Of course, he really just hypnotized my players to obey me..."

AJ was at a loss for words, which didn't really matter since he couldn't control his mouth. He had a vague memory of Coach giving the team a lecture about focus, but he didn't recall anything about a hypnotist!

"...I paid that hypnotist a couple hundred bucks to give me a team I could control! Did you not notice how different everyone's been acting lately?..."

Thinking back, AJ could remember a distinct shift in the team. It was right after that weird chat from Coach! All of the sudden he and his teammates had insane urges to workout in their free time. It was like their personalities became about watching football tapes and bulking up. They had all been so eager to improve themselves for the team, for Coach, and they talked about it constantly.

All the players seemed to have found a new passion for the sport. Could that have really just been implanted by a hypnotist?

"...It was a waste of money." Coach said definitively, launching into an angry monologue, "That hypnotist was supposed to make my team go to State. The whole lot of you are at my command! I can tell you what to do in your free time! I can tell you what to think, but I can't tell you to go out there and win a game for me? It's bullshit!"

The words stung. AJ had never seen this manipulative and bitter side of the man before.

"Well, I need to get my money's worth out of you, and if all you're good for is mopping floors, then maybe I'll take you off the team and make you a full-time janitor! Maybe that'll teach you to not let me down again, boy."

"Yes, sir," was all AJ could say.

"I'm tired of looking at you!" he scowled, "Get to work!"

"Yes, sir."

AJ gladly retreated from the man. His head was pounding from the beratement and the fact that his will had apparently been broken months ago. AJ wanted nothing more than to escape the crazy football team, but his body had other ideas. His legs carried him over to an idle cleaning cart, where his hands picked up a rag and spray bottle.

The quarterback looked calm and collected on the outside as he wiped down and sterilized the gym equipment. In the well-worn uniform of a custodian, he was easy to overlook, but he was the only one still shuffling around in the gym on a Friday night. One would think he was the epitome of lonely non-achievers.

AJ wanted to yell. He wanted to kick over the bench he was wiping sweat off of and punch a wall. Hell, he'd even settle for a frown, but he knew it was useless. That hypnotist had done a number on him, and he felt he had no control over what he was doing with his body.

The defeated athlete just hoped his teammates wouldn't get a good look at him as they left the locker room. He didn't think he could handle that much humiliation in one night. They would be passing by soon, but the quarterback assured himself that his buddies wouldn't give him any grief. They had to be just as intent on leaving as he was.

"Listen up, boys!" came a loud call from Coach.

Internally, a pang of worry shot through AJ's chest. 'What the hell is he going to do, now?' he thought.

"Before you go, toss all your jerseys to the janitor over there. I want you all to see what happens to players who disappoint the team."

AJ's face burnt red hot, but he wasn't angry anymore: just utterly embarrassed. Before he knew what he was doing, his body dropped the rag and spray bottle and climbed up from his knees. Turning on his heels, he faced the entirety of his football team, and just like that, they were staring at their quarterback in the degrading garb of a janitor.

"What's going on, AJ?" one of his buddies squeaked as he recognized him and the apathetic look on his face.

"That's your star quarterback boys," Coach announced, only twisting their expressions into more disturbed looks of confusion, "Give them a smile AJ."

AJ's stomach dropped as his mouth spread into a toothy grin. It was the same charming smile he'd used on picture day. He wanted to shrivel up and disappear, but his broad shoulders stayed wide and his legs stood firm while his teammates stared at his smiling face in horror.

"He's a reminder of what will happen to you if you disappoint me like he did tonight!" Coach continued, "I'm having him spend his whole weekend scrubbing this gym from top to bottom! He's also doing our laundry, so make sure he gets those dirty football uniforms."

The football team stood, frozen in a mixture of fear and bewilderment. Half of them were still convinced this was a really bad prank.

"Get a move on!" Coach roared, "Hand over your jerseys! I want you each to give him an insult as you do. And AJ, I want you to thank each and everyone of them for it!"

A sudden wave of monotoned "Yes, sir," statements echoed through the gym. Apparently the coach really did have each and every player under his control.

It took awhile. With over forty guys on the team, AJ stood there for thirty minutes accepting their unwashed clothes, quietly muttering fake gratitute to each player that insulted him.

"You are an awful team leader," one said.

"Thank you, sir."

"You never deserved to be quarterback," said another.

"Thank you, sir."

Some insults got more personal, "You smell terrible, like really so bad."

"Thank you, sir."

"You are a pain to be around and a bully," said a freshman, which stung the most.

"Thank you, sir."

Some of the players gave him looks of bewilderment, like they didn't know why they were obeying Coach like this, but some looked at him with disgust, like they truly believed he deserved this punishment. He would have crumpled to the floor if it weren't for the stranglehold the hypnosis had over his body.

It felt like hours, but eventually his teammates had each insulted him and shoved their game clothes into his arms, leaving AJ alone with the coach and a giant hamper of smells. His body was still standing tall, but he couldn't hide the wet streaks running down his cheek.

"You better get a load started," Coach said with an amused giggle, "The waterboy told me it usually takes him a full day to finish laundry."

"Yes, sir," AJ answered, though he wished his mouth would shut up. He hated hearing his voice. He sounded more like a pussy than ever.

"Don't worry, AJ," Coach said, putting a hand on his frozen shoulder, "You might be stuck here all weekend but I won't let you drive yourself crazy. You're going to be happy. You're going to love every second of scrubbing toilets and mopping floors in this empty gym."

AJ's migraine began to lift. The weight and depression of the night was rising off his shoulders. He knew it was the god damn hypnosis, but it felt like a drug. He really was starting to feel happier.

"Sure, you'll be doing some of the nastiest crap in your life, but there's nothing you'd rather be doing, right?"

"Yes, sir," AJ was beginning to mean it.

"You know you deserve it. You are going to replay the game over and over in your head and think about what you did wrong. You aren't going to choke on that field again, boy. Right?"

"Yes, sir."

He was already thinking about the first snap, imagining how he could have been more decisive, more aggressive in that moment.

AJ barely noticed as Coach gave him a slap on the butt. He was lost in concentration, meditating on the game he'd lost a few hours earlier, and he began pushing the squeaky metal hamper in the direction of the laundry room. He no longer felt upset, degraded, or alone. He only felt grateful to Coach for pointing him in the right direction, for giving him this opportunity to think on his mistakes. He really did deserve this time as a janitor.

He might have been exhausted and uncomfortable, wearing that sticky uniform in the hot gym, but he only felt peace as Coach locked the door on his way out. He had an entire weekend of self reflection and menial labor in front of him!

AJ was finally alone and free to do Coach's bidding. His lips didn't smile and his steps didn't have any pep, but inwardly he couldn't be happier. The gym was still ripe with the smell of his jumpsuit and the team's jerseys, but he didn't mind breathing it in. Coach had made him understand that he deserved every second of this nasty punishment.

He was the disappointment after all.

[lemonlover1110]

Double Trouble

Dad Series

Toji Fushiguro

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Hmm… Honey…” You feel as your husband’s lips kiss your neck, his lips going lower and lower with each kiss. It’s what he looks forward to every single night after he knows the kids are asleep— Of course this and spending some quality time with you. He keeps going, and just when he’s about to get to the sweetest part, he hears a bloodcurdling scream.

Both of you stop, your eyes widening as your body begins to fill with worry. Luckily enough, you’re both decent so you step out of the room and go to Megumi’s room, where you both heard the scream. Toji is big and strong enough to fight just about anybody off. Toji doesn’t bother knocking before he barges into the room, he makes sure you’re behind him so if anything happens, you’ll be protected.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?!” You hear Megumi yell, and you immediately know he’s at his wit’s end because he’s generally the kindest kid. He’s so well-behaved and wouldn’t dare to speak like that, unlike your husband.

“What happened here?” Toji asks, seeing how one twin is under Megumi’s bed while the other lays down on the bed. Megumi is definitely upset. “Kisho, get up from under there, what the hell are you doing?”

“Nice language, honey. Nice language.” You remind him. You walk over to Megumi, whose arms are crossed and would definitely be hitting his siblings if he didn’t have the ounce of self-control that’s left in his body. Your hand runs up and down Megumi’s back, hoping that’ll get him to calm down. “What did the twins do?”

“Why are they here? I woke up because Koemi was sleeping on top of me, and when I got on the floor I felt Kisho’s hand wrap around my ankle.” Megumi shares, and it makes Toji’s hand go over his mouth so he doesn’t show the smile on his face, and he can suppress his laugh.

“What are you two doing here?” You question as Kisho tries to take a seat on Megumi’s bed, but he struggles because it’s too high for him to reach. You look back and forth between the twins.

“I had a nightmare and didn’t want to bother you.” Koemi responds. You then focus on the other twin.

“I have to protect her here. She says she’s scared of monsters under the bed so I have to make sure.” Kisho answers, which still doesn’t explain why he wrapped his hand around Megumi’s ankle.

“So why did you wrap your hand around Megumi’s ankle?” Toji asks. The little boy looks ever-so-innocent when he says,

“I thought he was a monster.” He claims, making Toji burst out laughing.

“Thank you, dad. I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.” Megumi glares at his father.

“C’mon you little rascals. You’re sleeping with mommy and me tonight.” Toji tells the twins in-between laughs. He watches the twins get off Megumi’s bed and begin to walk to your room. 

His plans were ruined, but he surely doesn’t mind it.