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sknyuz · 1 month ago

Note

Hello! Congratulations on 400 followers, i love your writing and you definitely deserve it💜

I was wondering if i could request an Scoups x reader with the song Still into you by Paramore? Super fluffy please

Here's to many more followers💜

still into you - c.s.c.

now playing — still into you - paramore pairing — choi seungcheol (s.coups) x reader genre — highschool sweethearts, romance, fluff, slice of life, strangers to lovers to married couple !! cw — usual casual skinship, a little bit of a lover’s quarrel, cheol is so into you wc — ~3k

note: oh cheol my beloved !! i love this so much and i hope u guys love reading it just as much as i did writing it (ㅅ´ ˘ `) so happy to finally welcome cheol to my growing masterlist !! thank u @reiofsuns2001 for this request !! im so sorry it took so long, rei >><< sobs i have so much piled up !!

11 out of 13 members, three to go !! so pretty plz request any china line: jun or hao (plsplspls i ult him)

can't count the years on one hand that we've been together...

you always sat at the front of the class—highlighters in perfect color-coded rows, your handwriting criminally neat, the kind teachers loved to show off as an example. you didn’t talk much because you didn’t need to. your grades spoke for you.

seungcheol, on the other hand, was sat behind you. laughing with his team in the hallways, quiet in class, his football varsity jacket nearly always slipping off one shoulder. he chewed gum when he wasn’t supposed to, passed notes to his friends during lectures, and somehow still managed to charm every teacher in the building.

you weren’t supposed to end up together,

you were the scholarship student, the overachiever. seungcheol was the football team’s rising golden boy, all brawn and charming grins.

but one day in sophomore year, he leaned forward with a crooked smile and an awkward scratch to the back of his neck.

“hey… can i borrow a pencil? i swear i’ll give it back.”

you didn’t answer, just handed him your backup—a pink mechanical pencil that had a little heart-shaped eraser on the end. he grinned, mouthed a silent “thank you” as you rolled your eyes and turned back around.

you never got that pencil back.

but three weeks later, he offered you a ride home after late labs, nervous hand gripping the steering wheel of his dad’s honda civic.

“i kinda owe you, y’know?” he huffed, the lamest excuse to spend a little time with you. “wanna maybe... grab a meal before i take you home?”

and you said yes. he told his teammates about it the next morning in the locker rooms like it was the biggest win of his life.

now, several years later, you’re sitting beside him in the university library, quizzing him on finance terms you already know by heart.

you’re wearing that same battered varsity jacket—the one with the stitched-on patch from your high school. it’s a little faded now, the sleeves too long with the collar fraying. but it smells like seungcheol and fits like a memory, and he always says it looks better on you anyway.

his arm is draped around your waist, hand resting gently on your thigh as you lean into him. the world outside is cold, deadlines piling up, futures uncertain. but in this quiet corner of campus, you’re just the girl who gave him a pencil, and he’s still the boy who forgot his.

seungcheol glances down at you, eyes full of something warm and familiar. “hey, babe. how long have we been together?” he suddenly pipes up, eyes scanning yours. “like... six years...?” you murmur, eyes still trained on the flashcards you were organizing. “that’s wild.” he whispers, mostly to himself. you smile at this, brushing your thumb against his knuckles. “yeah, and you still haven’t given back my pencil.”

he groans, burying his face in your shoulder. “you’re never gonna let that go, huh?”

“never,” you laugh, and in your chest, something soft tugs.

because after all those years later, it’s still him. it’s still you and him against the world.

and, baby, even on our worst nights / i’m into you (i’m into you)

it wasn’t a good night.

you were both running on empty—too many deadlines, too little sleep. you had snapped first, voice sharp and exhausted, tossing a sarcastic comment over your shoulder when he forgot to pick up the takeout.

seungcheol snapped back. it didn’t happen often, but when it did, it hurt in ways neither of you liked admitting.

the apartment was quiet after that. he shut himself in the bedroom, while you curled up on the couch with a blanket and a dull ache behind your eyes.

you were halfway through scrolling aimlessly on your phone when you heard the bedroom door creak open.

seungcheol stood in the doorway, hair messy, eyes glassy with his brows furrowed. he looked younger like that—vulnerable in a way he didn’t let the world see. only you.

he didn’t say anything at first. just walked over and sank down beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. you didn’t lean into him—not yet—but you didn’t pull away either.

“i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “i didn’t mean to… y’know, be a jerk.”

you nodded, eyes still fixed on the screen. “me too.”

there was a pause. then his hand found yours beneath the blanket, fingers weaving through automatically, like muscle memory.

his thumb rubbed slow circles into your skin.

“we’re not perfect,” he said, almost to himself. “but… i’m still yours, even when we fight, or when it’s messy. especially then.”

you turned your head, finally meeting his eyes. they were tired, but soft. “me too,” you whispered. “even when you leave the laundry in the machine for three days.”

he snorted, “low blow.” but he leaned in, kissed your temple, and pulled you into his chest. you let yourself melt against him, the warmth of his familiar varsity jacket surrounding you again like home.

some nights were hard, but even on the worst of them—you never doubted the way seungcheol loved you, and he never let you forget it.

recount the night that i first met your mother / and on the drive back to my house, i told you that, i told you that i loved ya

seungcheol had never been the nervous type.

not even back in his first big game, when the whole stadium would hold its breath waiting for the quarterback to make the play, not during final exams, or during his first part-time job interview or the time he accidentally ripped his pants before a group presentation as a freshman.

but tonight?

tonight, now a high school senior, sitting across from your mother at the dinner table, spoon clutched too tight in his hand—he was spiraling.

“you’re sweating,” you whispered while passing him the kimchi, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “you literally played full-contact sports in summer and didn’t sweat this much.”

he shot you a betrayed look, cheeks flushed. “why didn’t you warn me your mom was so intense?”

“she’s not. she’s just... thorough,” you replied, clearly enjoying yourself far too much.

his hands were clammy, he kept adjusting his posture like that would magically make the nerves go away. this was worse than the championship game sophomore year, when the entire school was watching and he fumbled a play.

your mom, across the table, had a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes yet. her tone was kind, but her questions were anything but casual.

“so, seungcheol,” she said, folding her hands. “what exactly are your intentions?”

he blanked. the word ‘intentions’ echoed like a judge’s gavel in his skull. “uh... good ones?” he croaked, as your dad snorted into his drink. you kicked him gently under the table.

“i mean—i’ve been with y/n since we were sophomores,” seungcheol tried again, “and i... i’m really serious about them. always have been.”

your mom raised an eyebrow, making him want to just freaking disappear into the mashed potatoes.

still, she let him take leftovers when you left, in the nice, airtight lock containers, and that was a silent blessing if he ever saw one.

the car ride home was quiet at first. the hum of your shared playlist playing low through the speakers. you rested your hand on his thigh, thumb moving in slow circles.

“you did great, by the way,” you said softly.

“i bombed,” he sighed. “that was worse than any away game. ever. she had me sweating like i was back under the friday night lights.”

you smiled, turning your body toward him as the city lights streaked past the window. “she likes you, cheol. she just needed to see for herself what i already know.”

he glanced over at you, then back at the road. his grip on the wheel tightened, then loosened.

“i told myself i’d wait longer to say this,” he murmured. “but i’m kinda done waiting.”

your breath caught, turning your head fully toward him now.

“i love you,” he said, eyes still on the road but voice sure, steady—like a promise.

then, just as quickly, his bravado cracked, “you don’t have to say it back,” he rushed, hands tightening on the wheel. “i just—”

but you leaned across the console, cutting him off as you gently pressed your lips onto his cheek, and whispered, “say it again.”

seungcheol did. three more times before the red light turned green.

and from that night on, your mom always made sure to pack extra banchan for him “just in case.”

and to your favorite song / we sang along to the start of forever

that dumb summer playlist you made is still saved on his phone.

you pretend to hate it, rolling your eyes whenever “teenage dream” comes on.

but when your favorite track starts, seungcheol always turns the volume up, grinning like it’s some unspoken tradition.

he leans over and kisses your cheek, soft and sure—like he’s marking the moment.

that playlist becomes the background noise of your entire relationship: your fights, your makeups, those late-night fast food runs when neither of you want to be alone.

then one day, without much warning, he’s driving you back to that lake you used to sneak off to in high school.

the playlist is on shuffle, but you know he rigged it—because just as he pulls the car to a stop, your song starts to play.

he turns the volume up even louder, the corners of his mouth twitching into a nervous smile.

“remember this?” he asks softly, eyes locked on yours through the rearview mirror.

you nod, heart fluttering with all the memories: summer nights, laughter echoing over water, secrets shared under the stars.

he reaches over, slipping his varsity jacket off your shoulders and setting it carefully on the seat beside you.

his hand lingers near his pants pocket, fingers nervously tracing the small, worn box tucked inside—edges softened from years of carrying it around, though you don’t see it yet.

“i didn’t tell you where we were going,” he says, voice low but steady, “but this place… this is where everything started, isn’t it?”

you remember the day he took you here before, that nervous grin on his face, chest puffed out like he’d just won a championship, and how, just before driving you back home, he finally asked you out—your heart racing as you said yes.

you glance out at the calm lake, a quiet smile curling your lips as the sky blushes with sunset.

he kills the engine, and the soft hum of the playlist continues through the car speakers.

seungcheol opens his door first and steps out into the fading gold of sunset, the breeze tugging gently at his shirt. he walks around to your side, and for a second, just stands there—one hand on the roof of the car, the other fidgeting at his side.

then he looks at you like he’s memorizing this—your expression lit by the warm spill of twilight, the way the music floats out from the open car, soft and familiar. there’s something tender in his eyes, a quiet awe, like he still can’t believe you’re his.

“come on,” he says finally, voice thick with emotion as he opens your door and holds out his hand.

and when you take it, he squeezes just a little tighter than usual, like he’s holding onto something sacred.

for a moment, the two of you just stand there.

the lake stretches out in front of you, still and familiar, kissed by the amber glow of early evening. the gravel crunches beneath your shoes as you step closer to the edge. seungcheol doesn’t say anything right away—he just watches you, eyes searching your face like he's trying to soak up every detail.

his hand slips from yours briefly, brushing down the side of his jeans. you notice the subtle way he fiddles with something in his pocket, but before you can ask, he draws in a breath.

then, slowly, almost reverently, he lowers himself onto one knee. right there by the water’s edge, golden light spilling over his shoulders like something out of a dream.

your breath catches before your mind even fully registers what’s happening.

you blink—once, twice—like you’re trying to memorize every second, to lock it into place. the lake, the sky, the song drifting from the car, the way his hair glows like it’s lit from within. he looks up at you with that same expression he wore the night he first asked you out—hopeful, wide open, like you hung the stars.

your heart pounds so hard it almost hurts. not out of surprise, but because this moment feels so full, so right, it could spill over. it’s everything at once—past, present, future—folding into one perfect, dizzying breath. and when seungcheol speaks, you can’t help but feel all choked up.

“some things just make sense,” he says, eyes never leaving yours. “and one of those is you and i.” he opens the box to reveal a simple, perfect ring.

“not a day’s gone by that i haven’t been into you, so let’s make it forever.”

your breath catches as you feel hot tears start to pool in your eyes, and you reach out to pull him up—nodding eagerly, the start of forever written in the way your fingers find his, unshakable.

let 'em wonder how we got this far / 'cause i don't really need to wonder at all

mingyu’s trying to fix his tie in the mirror, frowning like the fabric personally offended him. “does anyone actually know how to do this right?”

jeonghan laughs from the couch, sipping a bottle of water. “you’re hopeless. give it here.”

across the room, seungkwan is adjusting the boutonnière on seungcheol’s lapel, squinting with all the concentration of a man diffusing a bomb. “stay still, hyung. i swear if this thing falls off during your vows…”

“i’m not even moving,” seungcheol chuckles, but his hands are shaking slightly where they rest in his lap.

“still nervous?” dokyeom asks, nudging his shoulder.

“a little,” seungcheol admits. “but it’s a good kind.”

mingyu glances over his shoulder with a smirk. “can’t believe they’re still putting up with you after all these years.”

“seriously,” soonyoung adds from where he’s scrolling through photos on his phone. “i would’ve bailed after the ramen incident back in freshman year.”

“or the time you mixed up your anniversary date and took them to a haunted house instead of a dinner reservation,” minghao mutters, deadpan.

the room breaks into laughter, recalling you and seungcheol’s moments over the years.

seungcheol just laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as the room buzzes with teasing. “you know what? i don’t even wonder how we got here.”

mingyu raises an eyebrow in the mirror, “no?”

the groom shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “not even a little. they’ve always been it for me.”

mingyu nods slowly, fixing his tie. “yeah… ‘cause they’re the only one who’s ever looked at you like you hung the damn stars.”

jeonghan lets out a low whistle, “look at these guys getting sentimental before the ceremony.”

“hyung’s earned it,” wonwoo says quietly from the corner.

but seungcheol doesn’t disagree. not when he’s about to walk down the aisle to the one person who’s still into him—even on his worst days.

you’re still into each other, and seungcheol never needed to wonder why.

yeah, after all this time / i'm still into you

the music swells, the doors open, and time stutters.

seungcheol forgets how to breathe.

you stand at the end of the aisle, framed by flowers and soft light, looking like something out of a memory and a promise all at once. seungcheol’s breath catches, the nerves from earlier melting into something quieter, deeper—reverence.

soft piano keys ripple through the air, a delicate, heartfelt rendition of still into you filling the room—each note tender, every pause holding the weight of years you’ve shared.

“holy shit,” mingyu whispers beside him, and jeonghan elbows him in the ribs.

but seungcheol doesn’t hear a thing—his eyes are only on you.

each step you take feels suspended in warmth, in years’ worth of laughter, fights, slow study sessions, and late-night drives in his beat-up honda civic that survived highschool and the transition to university. his hands tremble at his sides, jaw tight like he’s holding in everything he can’t say just yet.

when you finally reach him, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as you take his hands. they’re warm and familiar.

the officiant speaks, but it’s background noise. everything else fades away.

all seungcheol sees is you, and all you see is him.

and when it’s time—when the words are said, and the universe feels like it’s holding its breath—he leans in.

the kiss is soft, sure. not rushed. like he knows he has forever to do this again.

and again...

and again.

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ seventeen ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet | @ateez-atiny380 @alien0n3arth @cuppasunu @dhaliaa1211 @seokminfilm @babilou-pov @crowneve @hhaechansmoless @triciawritesstuff @sopitadearvejas @slytherinshua @chronicfic @xh01bri @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @snowflakemoon3 @bbangbies @kibtsuji @dahlia-blossom @dhaliaa1211 @symphonies-of-poenies

#sknyuz #⋆˚࿔ 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢’𝐬 🍮 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#seventeen #svt #kstrucknet #sknyuzfm #sknyuz400 #choi seungcheol #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups x you #seungcheol x you #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt x you

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 20 days ago

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⋆⭒˚.⋆ party 4 u ⋆⭒˚.⋆

a/n: bit of a weird format here, but basically every little blurb starting with "party on you" is an extension/new version of Jaehyun's POV of angsty and cute moments from the linked fics (except for one) set pre-official relationship

I'm about to party on you

watch me, watch me, party on you

yeah

party on you

(extra from when the fratboy falls)

It's the first time fratboy!Jaehyun has even talked to you. He's just chased you through the library to beg for your help in a class he didn't even want to take. His phone is back in his own hand and you're still standing in front of him.

Jaehyun doesn’t know what or why, but there's just something keeping him from walking away immediately. Jaehyun can't pull his eyes away from yours. He's entranced by the way they sparkle and gleam in the low light of the slowly sinking sun. You look like you're glowing.

You smile shyly, nodding slowly, almost awkwardly, "I guess I'll talk to you soon."

He gulps and nods silently, lifting his hand in what has to be the lamest and saddest wave goodbye.

You wave at him from over your shoulder with a soft smile as you walk away. Jaehyun stands there at the foot of the stairs feeling his heart pound in his chest and a shortness of breath he's never felt before.

party on you

(extra from when the fratboy falls)

It's Taeyong who comes rushing into the backyard, grabbing his phone while he mumbles on about getting you home. Jaehyun is on his feet the second he hears your name. It's like nothing else matters when he hears that you're leaving.

He can't even remember what he asks when he sees you standing in the front yard with tears in your eyes. Then you're walking away and he feels his heart stop. He doesn't know what he did, but he knows he needs to fix it. Fast

Then you're turning to look at him and you look angry and your words aren't fully registering in his mind. He's really trying to understand your anger and where you're coming from but he's never been more lost in his life.

But then you're asking him why he never told you and your eyes are filled with tears again. Jaehyun is just wondering what is so wrong about what the guys could have told you? Did they tell you that he likes you? You're mad about him liking you? Is that a bad thing?

Now you're yelling about his girlfriend and he just stops, wrapping his hand around your wrist as he asks, "at the risk of sounding like a dick, who is she?”

You throw your hands up and yell something about him having a girlfriend again and then you yell something about having feelings for him and he chokes, "you like me back?"

party on-party on you

The lights are flashing around the party and Jaehyun immediately regrets allowing Jungwoo to gets his hands on a fog machine. The air is already thick from people refusing to smoke outside and the thick crowd of people.

Jaehyun waits in the opening from the living room to the hallway with a drink in his hand. Johnny stands beside him talking about something... maybe something about someone spiking the punch. Jaehyun really can't even be sure if he's being honest, his eyes are focused on the hazy crowd keeping an eye out for something specific. Someone. You.

Then he sees it. He sees the sea of gyrating bodies parting as you elbow your way through. There's a can in one hand and a cup in the other. You have a focused look on your face as you try your best to keep yourself from knocking into anyone too harshly.

There's a buzzing in his brain that calms immediately at the sight of you. You're not even walking to him directly. Ari and Kira are just a few feet away, head huddled in their own conversation, but you're here because of him. You're here because he invited you.

He can feel a smile spread across his lips at the memory of you greeting him with a hug and a shy kiss on the cheek. A kiss that he turned into a kiss on the lips. He'd cupped your cheek and drawn you in for a short, but sweet press of your lips. He liked being able to kiss you any time he wanted now. He loved it.

He can see you exhale in relief as you finally make your way through the crowd and over to the hang out area. The lights are strobing. Blue to green and back.

It's like it happens in slow motion as you walk past him. Your eyes meet, his breath catches at the all new dimensions that the colored lights reveal. There's a whole new depth of beauty to you under the lights that he once thought were stupid.

Kira takes the can from your hand and you break away from her to find Jaehyun's side. You press a hand to his chest and wrap your other arm around his neck. He shivers as a drop of condensation drips onto the back of his neck.

Your lips are brushing over the shell of his ear, "this is really fun! Thanks for inviting us."

He turns his head to look at you with a smile that anyone else would describe as lovestruck. He smooths a hand over the back of your head to flatten your hair that was tussled by the mob of party-goers. "Yeah," he nods, pressing his lips to your forehead, "it is really fun."

party on you

(extra from this)

Jaehyun knows that he's slept with a good amount of people. A lot of people, most would say. He's changed because of you, though. He hasn't so much as looked at another woman since you and him decided to embark on your relationship together, well, not official relationship together.

He ignores all his former partners, he doesn't text anyone back, he ignores his DMs, and he shuts down any form of flirting. That doesn't mean that you won't hear about it though. He hates that trudge over to him with a pout on your face and how you refuse to meet his eye.

He doesn't know what happened, but he knows he doesn't like it, "tell me what you're thinking of, sweet girl."

Your next words hit him like a punch to the gut: "how many girls have you slept with here?"

The argument that follows isn't one that feels good, but it's an argument that needed to happen. He needed to reassure you and you needed to get there worries off your chest. He knows he's being stubborn about the titles and the state of your relationship, but that doesn't mean that he's ready to lose you. If an argument is whats needed to show you that he'll fight for you, then that's what he'll do.

He feels rush of relief as you sigh and then laugh. His heart stutters right in his chest as he feels the warmth of your hand on his shoulder, even if it's just a shove, "you better pull some new tricks out of your sleeve when we finally sleep together, and I want to see that tongue thing!”

He laughs it off, pulling you into his embrace as he feels his heart rate finally start to slow down and return to normal, "whatever you want, sweetheart, whatever you want.”

party on-party on you

(extra from when the party's over)

Jaehyun stands eerily still as you gather your things. You're reaching for every trace of you that your tear filled eyes can find with shaky hands. You're grabbing your backpack and slipping on your shoes.

He hates himself. He fucking hates the person he's become and the words that came out of his mouth. There's a bitter taste in his mouth like the words that he just spoke are poisonous.

The door slams shut and he hunches over, his eyes filling with tears and he clutches a hand right over his heart. His words hurt you, his words cause him pain, but knowing that he's the cause of your anguish and your distress hurts even more.

He holds his hands over his face as he slides down the wall of his room. His room that feels too cold, too small, too suffocating. His room that he now hates because it's the place where he fucked it all up. He wishes it were further, he wishes he couldn't hear your choked sobs as you ran down the hallway. But he can hear it and it's the last confirmation he needs to know that he's the worst man who has ever existed.

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct drabbles #nct blurbs #fratboy!jaehyun #frat!jaehyun #frat!nct #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fic

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on-the-clear-blue · 9 months ago

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Champion and King Pt1

(Since yall seemed to want this...)

Danny didn't know why he was doing this, didn't know why he agreed to try this for Clockwork...

He cursed the day he defeated Pariah Dark, that great petty bastard cursed him with something much worse than a missing limb or death.

Motherfucking paperwork

And centuries of it, sure there was some meager efforts done by the Ancients over the years but at some point they just stopped.

And now he was stuck behind a desk reading mind-numbing legal jargon trying to figure out what exactly the Observants wanted him to do, the most he was able to comprehend was they wanted support for an increase of dead from leprosy...from 800 BC.

He slapped it with his decline seal and moved onto the next, another plea for more funding by Walker, accepted and pushed to another bin.

Read, Stamp, put in Bin.

That was his life now.

He had become the lamest office worker whenever he wasn't at school or sleeping, he hadn't seen Sam or Tucker in what felt like years...

His eyes skipped over lines of text, sighing as he let the paper drop, his ink stained fingers rubbed at his eyes, yawning as he did.

Stretching back in his chair, Danny stared up at the ceiling of his office, feeling some calm come over his tired mind, his ceiling was covered with stars on pitch black, his eyes could pick out constellations known and unknown, one (and maybe only benefit) of being the Ghost King was that he had full access to all of the ghosts in the Realms, others who looked up to the stars and felt hope.

Watching the stars twinkle for another minute, Danny groaned before looking back to the piles and piles of paperwork, only pausing as there was a bright pink postit note stuck on the paper that he had recently tried to read.

It was both a welcome distraction and a troublesome thing, picking it up, Danny's eyes narrowed as he read.

'Dear King Daniel, I hope this note finds you well, a pressing matter has come to fruition that need your attention. Come to my tower, I wish to speak to you.'

Grumbling, the teen stood, wincing at the creak of his bones as he stretched, he is barely over 14! Why does he have a worse back then his father!

---

Floating through the purple door of the clock tower, Danny looked around for his supposed mentor.

Letting out a grunt as he was tackled from behind, the teen glared at the pint sized Clockwork grinning evilly up at him, "Sup Unc, took you long enough, were you in Ohio? That's totally not skibidi rizz my guy, never Ohio max Danny, it would destroy the time stream."

How is this the same person thst sent that flowery worded message from before? Simple, it was an older Clock Work, as his body cycles through ages, so does his words and how they are used...sadly.

Rolling the young Clock Work off himself, Danny glared for a moment before sighing, "if you brought me here just to sprout brain rot I am calling Technus and making him ban your accounts..."

The small Clock Work glared at Danny for a moment before shifting to a more mature form, "Truely if my excited form is too much for you I fear for the other citizens of the realm." Not letting Danny defend himself the now man steam rolled on, "But that matters not as of now, for I must instruct you on another Kingly duty that you have yet to do."

Danny sucked in a breath and tried to stop the growl that wanted to come out, he would save it for his office and his mountains of paperwork, "Another? I am already drowning in paperwork! I am this close to helping Vlad get my mom just so he teaches me the duplication trick he does!" Pacing the teen dragged his hands down his face, "I am barely in the 800s BC! Undergrowth doesn't need to help save a certain flower that can only be found on one island because it fucking sunk and became Atlantis! Did you know that's how I found out it was real? Fucking Atlantis is real and I found out through paperwork!"

As he ranted Danny gripped at his hair, tugging at it as he continued "I can't even process that because I have Walker up my ass, every second paper is him asking for more funding! Why does he need more ecto? He only has 5 inmates at a time?"

Clockwork o lyrics crossed his arms, watching as Danny raved onward, after he hit the five minute mark, Clock Work grabbed the teen by his shoulders and shook him lightly, "Daniel this will not be anything like the paper work, will you kindly cease speaking and let me tell you what it is?"

---

Billy yawned and decided that today would be a good day, it wasn't really anything that was about this morning that was unnormally good or nice, but Billy couldn't shake the feeling it was going to be great!

Stretching, as he shucked off his sleeping bag, the teen rolled off his sleeping pad and fumbled for his phone, a small rinky dink flip phone he had gotten with prepaid minutes.

Yawning again as he checked on the time, he nodded, he would be able to stop by the shelter in an hour to get breakfast, he could thr pop behind the general store to see if Mister Mathew had anything he needed help with/ was throwing out.

Shuffling around his makeshift area, Billy packed up his things, slotting them into an old military backpack he had been able to snag out of a dumpster, it only had a few holes! Practically brand new for a homeless kid.

Checking over his League communicator, he made sure that the world didn't end while he was sleeping, and set off for the day, humming a tune as he walked through the abandoned subways under his city.

Coming out to one of the less abandoned places, he waved at some of the kinder homeless population, he had been on the streets longer than most, but for some reason a lot of them still treated him like he was fresh out of a foster home.

Taking a deep breath as he came up into the light of day, Billy hummed, a smile on his face as he set to do his morning rounds.

---

Okay so it seemed like the day was purposely trying to make Billy get in a bad mood, the shelter denied him entry since they were full up, which is fine, he has protein bars in his backpack.

Then it seemed like Mister Mathew forgot to tell his new hire about their little deal so he got cussed out and chased off, which is again, is fine, he will try again later when he knows for sure that Mister Mathew is actually there.

No, what was the serious thing that was trying to make him have a bad day was the twenty story tall tentacles that were whipping around trying to destroy the better part of down town Fawcett city.

"Oh shiz...am heh." Shaking his head from his own little pun, the teen ran into a near by alley, did a once over to make sure there wasn't any unexpected viewers, and then called out the old wizards name, "Shizam!"

Lighting tore through the sky and slammed into his chest, in a flash of light Billy Batson, homeless 14 year old was gone, and where he stood was Captain Marvel, Champion of Magic.

---

He didn't do it on purpose, Danny swears mentally as he flew out of reach of the dark whip like tentacle, he still wasn't used to traveling by the Ring of Rage and well...his portaling wasn't as good as it probably should be...

Sending a blast of ecto at what he could only assume to be a being outside of his comprehension, Danny sneered at it "Oy grippy face! Leave the people alone! I brought you here dammit! Fight me you sad sack of calamari!"

Grinning as his taunts got him a feral grumbling and black ichor bubbling at what he could only assume a mouth was? He didn't really care as he focused on freezing the tentacle that missed him, stopping it before it could slam into a near by building.

But before Danny could attack the beast, he froze, his dead heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

After the portal accident, Danny instinctively had a sense about electricity, he could practically taste it when there was a high voltage.

And right now? His mouth was like an ozone ocean, his arm burned once again along the lines of his Lichtenberg scar, and with a boom that rattled Danny's core and left stars flying around his vision, a bolt of white lightning shot from a figure flying not to far away towards the great tentacle beast, making it squeal in pain.

But Danny was still frozen, eyes wide and hands shaking, as another bolt of brilliant white shot out from the being, a man in a scarlet suit, a snow white cape fluttering behind him, and a golden lightning built across his chest.

Danny was not going to have fun this fight isn't he?

#dc x dp #danny phantom #dpxdc #danny is a little shit #ghost king danny #danny is just a little guy #he is also tired as heck #billy batson #captain marvel (dc)#Billy is trying his best #and we love him for it #Eventual Danny/Billy #what should their ship name be?#invisibilly?#shazam #dying sparks #DannyxBilly

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sunafc · 2 months ago

Text

Cherry Smoke — 10, Meet me outside

masterlist

Suna wondered how it had all turned out to this. Y/n’s body resting against the armrest of his couch, all curled up — if not for her one leg stretched out towards him and her foot resting flat against his thigh. Suna wondered how it was possible to feel so comfortable in another person’s presence after such a short period of knowing them, so comfortable having them all over your personal space, and feeling like it’s not enough. It was never enough. Suna longed for Y/n’s presence with the same intensity as you need a glass of water when you wake up at 3 am on a random night. Which may not be very poetic, but it gets the feeling across. It scared him, though. It scared him like nothing else had ever frightened him before. So, the only reasonable thing to do was to run away, obviously. He acted indifferent, he hooked up with different girls. Even so, nothing compared, and he would find himself, once again, yearning for even just a little bit more of her. He felt jealous, too, when he couldn’t get that.

Like right now, he had left the girl he was hooking up with to take Y/n home, but she was on her phone. Tapping away on that screen, sparing not even a glance in his direction. Communicating his needs and feelings was not an option, either, so, again, he did what he did best: running away. Ignore the problem, be uninterested.

He gets up from the couch, pretending like he doesn’t care if she looks at him or if she notices at all. However, a smirk creeps onto his face when Y/n looks up. ‘Where are you going?’ She asks. ‘Oh,’ and he can feel his resolve slipping through his fingers as he says, ‘So, now I exist?’ There, with that, his casualness flew out the window. Y/n gets up from the couch, too, and stands in front of him. She cups his face, ‘You’re such a baby, sometimes,’ she says, holding back a chuckle. ‘Whatever,’ Suna scoffed, trying to regain his aloof demeanor, and grabbing her wrists to lower her hands. Then, swiftly, he picks up the girl, hoisting her around like a sack of potatoes and ignoring her futile protest to be let down, ‘Let’s get ready for bed, I’m tired.’

In the bathroom, Suna sits Y/n down on the countertop next to the sink. He glances at her, from time to time, as he brushes his teeth, just to be met with her eyes every time. ‘What?’ He mumbles, toothbrush hanging from his lips. She shakes her head, ‘Nothing,’ she smiles, ‘You just look silly.’ He hums and rinses his mouth. He turns to her, ‘Your turn, now,’ he says, shuffling through the cabinet in search of that pack of makeup wipes he had kept aside for this kind of occasion. Y/n closes her eyes, letting the boy gently remove the makeup from her face. ‘You know I can do this myself, right?’ She says, not trying to stop him, though. ‘I guess,’ he throws the wipe in the bin, ‘But I want to,’ he says like there’s nothing else to it, like he doesn’t ache to find the lamest excuse to feel close to her. Suna waits for Y/n to wash her teeth, then, when she’s done, he grabs her hand and walks her to his bedroom, murmuring a quiet ‘Time for bed.’

• • •

notes:

the guy y/n wanted to impress was suna but he's a bit dense and was too busy being jealous

let me know ur thoughts on the written part too if you'd like! i always appreciate that 🙏

a bit of a longer chapter bc i can say for sure i won't be able to update for the whole next week my bad but i'm really busy with studying + i'm visiting my gf after my exams for a few days ! 🍓

taglist: @nomyimi @nomoreilovesyou @heyhihellowhatsup @this-is-me-lolol @xoxpetals @massacremars @mo072806 @chikanmaniac @jayyyygeeee @unhinged-atrocities @sophiahearttss @akaashislovee @sexylexy12 @asp7n @silly-pigeon69 @0rangej0e @sticknpokes @honeyfewr @kzoyu @m3llypl1n1us @thatmf-jay @aneternallyexhaustedpigeon @ventiij @meguemii @nscuit @luvinazaki @reidsworld @h3xi2g0n3 @readerxyou @coercivemind @emiwoowoo @bluemailhiot @itz-phantomz @lover-no-lover61 @osamuspudding | to be added leave a comment or an ask

#haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #suna x reader #sunarin #suna smau #suna rintaro #suna texts #haikyuu texts

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tanktopdiaz · 3 months ago

Text

canon 8x05 masks coda

“I’m bisexual, right?”

Hen whips her head around her locker door.

“I mean, we’ve had this talk, right? If I told you something in confidence, it wouldn’t be – like –“

“It would not surprise me,” Hen cuts him off, mercifully. Chim can’t seem to look her in the eye so she follows his eyeline to the gym. Eddie’s the only thing there, pumping a couple hundred pounds of iron in a dark gray tank top. “Oh,” she slams her locker door shut. “I do not want to hear this.”

“I – wha’!” He scoffs, turning fully to her with his arms out in shock. “Hen! You’re being totally homophobic right now!”

Hen turns towards the door, palm up behind her. “I’m not doing this with you right now, Howie!”

“Bi-phobic!” Chim counters, a finger in the air between them. “You can’t stand the idea of me appreciating a hot guy then going home to my smokin’ wife!”

“I don’t know what spell that man has cast on you all,” she says with a small laugh, waving her hand and chancing a look back at Chim. He’s dropped like a sad puppy, eyebrows turned inward and his mouth pinched in a half-frown half-angry grimace.

Chim scuffs his shoe on the floor. “I think it’s the mustache, Hen.”

“Hm,” she hums. “It’s bewitched you.”

“Body and soul,” he whispers, looking down at his palms.

Hen hitches her bag up her shoulder and sighs. “Karen said the same thing. Both of you are unbelievable.”

“Come on, Hen - I mean, the werewolf costume?” He glances around, lowers his voice. “Did you even see?”

“See what?” Buck pops up behind Chim, warm from the showers.

Scares the shit out of Chim, who scrambles a bit away and starts working on the buttons of his shirt in the world’s lamest attempt at escaping the conversation at hand. “Nothing! Just – taxes!”

“He’s in here waxing poetry about Eddie in his werewolf costume.” Hen rolls her eyes and gestures to Chim, ends with a little smack on her thigh and one low laugh-huff.

“Oh.” Buck replies – then – he’s quiet. They both look up to see a blush on his cheeks, face turned away and seemingly lost in thought.

Hen swings open the locker room door. “Goodbye!”

“So,” Chim starts after a lengthy, purposeful silence. “I told you I’m bisexual too, right?”

#a silly goofy cheddie drabble 4 u all :)#cheddie #chimeddie #911 fanfic #they write huh #slagathor #this was fun back to my auau

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lcriedlastnight · 11 months ago

Note

Y/n and Lando have a friendly competition to see who can get more numbers and y/n gets upset when Lando gets the number of someone who actually likes him

omg this is such a great idea, thanks for trusting me to write it anon! ily!

tw: fem! reader, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything else.

w/c: 1.2k

"truth or dare?" lando asks. neither of you are even that drunk so how you had resorted to playing high school party games in the middle of the club was beyond you, all you knew that is if lando wanted you to jump off the nearest bridge you would be pulling up the directions on google maps on your phone seconds later.

"dare" you grin, thinking your choice to be bold, especially when you were playing with lando. your fears are confirmed when he smiles like a cheshire cat at your answer, like it was exactly what he wanted.

"okay well this is kinda a dare for us both, a challenge if you will.." lando trails off as you stand there, drink in hand waiting for him to continue with what was probably going to be a god awful plan or 'challenge' as he called it. you hum out to show you were listening and interested.

"it's simple really, we go around the club and try and see who can get the most numbers, whoever gets the most in the next two hours wins." lando explains. you honestly do not think you have ever heard of a worse game in your life. you guess it does not help if you were in love with your competition. you knew how hard it was seeing lando flirt with random girls in the clubs you had joined him in every weekend or so. you sigh as you contemplate his offer.

"what do i get if i win?" you ask, wanting to make watching the man you were in love with flirt it up with other girls, worth it. it is lando's turn to think as you watch on, desperate for him to decide to call it off, the idea of him getting other girls numbers unsettling, but you knew you could never pull out without hearing the end of it from your opponent.

that smile returns and before you can focus too much on the swirly, fuzzy feeling it creates in your stomach he's speaking up. "the winner gets a whole week of favours from the loser." you probably do not think hard enough about how badly this could end for you before you agree and you are both on your separate ways, hunting for your first victim. you do not feel very comfortable flirting with these random guys, promising to call them and the likes, when you knew that your heart belonged to the stupid boy who had probably only suggested this so he could get girls numbers for when he was lonely.

after an hour you had near enough given up as it felt draining talking to so many men, when none of them even cared enough to ask your name. it was exhausting and this point you knew you just wanted to go home but you knew you still had an hour of this left so you soldier on, continuing your bland and boring conversations with the lamest guys you had seriously ever met.

an hour and a half in and you had only gotten ten phone numbers., you knew as soon as you and lando had counted them up to see who the winner was they would be getting thrown away so you did not really care much to keep them pretty or even safe as you were sure you lost a few navigating through the club crowds.

you had tried not to watch lando jump from girl to girl, most of the time not even having to lay on any charm or anything. you decided in that moment to hate him for the rest of your life. even though you love him it was literally killing you to see this happen right in front of your eyes, and you had no one to blame bar yourself as you had literally encouraged this to happen by agreeing to his stupid dare/ challenge. at this point you had stopped caring about losing and started thinking about how what lando would make you do for the next week straight could never be as bad as watching him throw himself at hundreds of different girls. your eyes are glued to lando as you watch him saunter over to a group of girls, one you could recognise from a million miles away. it was that stupid model that was always liking and commenting on lando's instagram posts. you knew for a fact that she genuinely already had a liking towards lando and the thought of him handing her his number had made you feel sick to your stomach. there was no way in hell you were sticking around to see this one, you were sure this one would be the one that broke you.

you sling the coat that is hanging over your arm around your shoulder and slide your arms into the arms of the jacket before weaving through the crowd to the club exit. you knew lando would probably be going home with blonde model for the night, you heading home by yourself like always. you tried not to be bitter but you were so tired of begging anyone and everything that it would one day be you that lando begs to take home, even for just one night, you would take that over never knowing his touch easily.

you wait for your uber outside in the cold, hearing the noise of the club come and go as the doors to the building open and close as people enter and exit as they please. one of the last times you hear the door open and close you hear footsteps approach you slowly, you cannot even find it in you to be scared because you can tell exactly who it is from the footfall alone, nevermind the overpowering scent that seems to follow you around even after you had left the boys presence.

"y'going home already? cause y'know 've won?" lando teases but you are not in the mood so you fimd it hard to muster up even a fake laugh. lando frowns at you, confused.

"wait what's wrong?" he asks, hand coming to rest on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him.

instead of answering his question you reply "i have an uber coming. it's on its way." lando nods but speaks up again anyway.

"did you not like the game? did someone say something to you?" he presses, his sudden protective nature doing nothing to help the heart eyes you feel forming as you stare at him.

"no one said anything. how many numbers did you get?" you ask. lando frowns at the way you change the conversation, worried for you.

"i didn't get any." he says, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. you furrow your brows in confusion.

"i seen you talk to loads of girls?" you tell him, eyes trailing over his face trying to catch him out in a lie. you could not.

"didn't get any of their numbers though? realised after the first girl i talked to that none of them even held a candle to you, sweetheart." lando smiles as his thumbs trace a path down your cheeks.

"not even that blonde model who liked all of your instagram posts?" you ask, feeling a little insecure because of lando's out of the blue, kinda confession.

"nah, just went around talking about you all night." lando confesses. "i would've came back to you sooner but you know me, can't give up on a challenge first." you roll your eyes at his words. you link your hand with his and pull him to stand beside you to wait for your uber and he does so without a complaint.

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masamasan · 1 month ago

Text

[Brand New Hero | Mark x You]

Summary: As the newest PR intern at the GDA, you’re at the absolute bottom of the food chain. Until you meet him: a clumsy, god-awfully dressed rookie hero with no name, no fame, and no idea what he’s doing.

Your master plan: make him the greatest superhero this world has ever seen.

You’re a teenager. He’s a teenager. Throw in a wild cocktail of hormones, a couple of near-death experiences, and some crippling anxiety. What could possibly go wrong?

Contains: Alternate Universe | Female Reader | Slow Burn | Friends to Lovers

"Describe yourself."

Ah, yes — the most dreaded of questions, probably the most awkward ice breaker there is. Worst thing is that it tells you absolutely nothing about anyone.

It usually goes one of two ways:

You either tell them the most generic, Jane or John Doe kind of response as humanly possible (‘I like music, hanging out with friends, and going to the gym’) or go the special snowflake route and tell them a meaningless, obscure fact about yourself (‘I like this really niche, indie boy band from Iceland that nobody knows except for me’).

Either way, it’s fake, mildly disturbing, and something you’d rather like to skip.

But how would you describe yourself?

You freshly turned eighteen, were an early high school graduate, and had a full-ride scholarship to the University of Virgina. So you weren't completely stupid, no. But you weren't one of those brain-melting Einsteins nor one of those hard-working underdog model students either.

The most special thing about you was not you, but your family: Your parents were both prodigies in their respective fields and got recruited to work for the government right after college graduation.

When you were younger, you thought they were spies, like the ones in that movie with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. They'd zoom around in their bullet-proof Jeeps, only strut out of the house in their perfectly-ironed black suits, and would feed your classmates the lamest lies about working boring office jobs. When you discovered in fourth grade that they were, in fact, not secret agents, you were mildly devastated, to put it lightly.

In short: You were a nepo baby and had rich parents that sent you to an excessively expensive, really snobby private school that made it ridiculously easy to get into any college you wanted.

What else? You were kind of a (massive, enormous, colossal) people pleaser, and thought the only thing defining your self-worth was if others liked you. Everything you did was done perfectly, and you would rather swallow a thousand needles than let others think you were incompetent in any way. That left you stuck being everyone's go-to person whenever they needed a group project partner — only to end up doing the entire thing by yourself while they could lean back and watch.

You blamed your parents for that cursed trait, because they had such ridiculously high expectations for their only child that you couldn't allow yourself to disappoint them even microscopically. They wanted you to be their perfect mini-clone, destined to follow in their footsteps and become another successful government drone. And then when you found yourself a guy who would fulfill their impossible standards (probably an astronaut, doctor, and lawyer all in one), you'd create a perfect copy of them in the future again, so their legacy could live on forever and ever. Hooray.

That's how you ended up here, as an intern for the Global Defensive Agency inside the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia. Your parents had convinced the director to let you prove yourself, helping you to take your first step into your government career.

“It's going to be hard in the beginning," your dad had said. "If you don't do your tasks well, they will sort you out and you will never get that opportunity again."

Those words stuck with you throughout the first weeks of your internship, when you would run around to get everyone their correct order of coffee, copy and staple their paperwork or reply to angry emails from citizens whose houses got destroyed in the recent Omni-Man vs Lizard Group fight.

Work was hard, especially when you had to juggle that on top of your Political Economy online classes, but somehow you managed. The nightmarish image of your parents' disappointed faces combined with a truly concerning amount of your self-brewed espresso and Red Bull concoction (patent pending) kept you going, alright.

And you did well. You were an amazing errand runner, if you said so yourself. You never spilled a drop of coffee, never stapled the wrong documents, and never lost your cool when citizens called you insults in their angry emails. The best intern ever. That's what you were. Gold star for you.

So when your mother, a scientist, who worked closely with the director of the GDA, had helped you get a promotion, you weren't so sure if you were happy with it. You were great as a coffee girl, so why risk it and start from the bottom again? Hell, maybe you could be a coffee girl manager one day if you kept it up!

"You will never be the best, if you don't even try," your mother had said. “And what’s the point if you’re not the best?”

There wasn’t much you could say to argue — especially when she hit you with one of those ‘if looks could kill’ glares that made you rethink your entire life choice of opening your mouth. So you agreed, like the perfect grateful daughter you were.

Your new role in the PR department was to help raise Teen Team's public image. It sounded a lot more exciting than it actually was. Most days, it meant crafting excuses when they accidentally leveled a neighborhood during a fight, or scrambling to spin damage control after another politically incorrect comment in an interview.

And now you stood in front of young superheroes you were supposed to work with, a group of mismatched teens that had been under GDA's care for some time now. Five pairs of eyes were glued to your awkwardly stiff black suit-clad body, a clipboard with nothing written on it pressed against your chest as they expectantly waited for an introduction.

So… with your mediocre background story in mind, how did you describe yourself?

The most accurate would be: A privileged doormat with an unhealthy caffeine addiction.

But of course you would never say that.

"I like listening to music," you stammered, after giving them your name. "And meeting friends in my spare time," you quickly added.

You went the Jane Doe route, to play it safe. Not cool, but there was nothing cool about you anyway. You also forgot the gym part, but it was too late now.

Instead of introducing themselves back to you, they shrugged your uncomfortable attempt at socializing off. The redhead sent you a crooked smile out of pity. That was nice. Kinda.

"Well, you guys can go back to training," Donald said, clearing his throat, when the silence got too thick. “I think you did a great job."

The older man patted you awkwardly on your shoulder, and you grimaced at yourself as soon as the heroes turned their backs on you. You couldn't think of a better way to completely wreck your reputation on the first day with the people you were supposed to work for... at least it went better than that time when you met Cecil for the first time. That memory had been safely locked away in the 'never ever think about again, not even under torture' part of your brain.

"Don't worry," Donald quickly added, when he saw your panicked face. "It was hard for me, too, in the beginning. But you'll get the hang of it."

You nodded and suppressed the urge to cry tears of pure, undiluted mortification. Donald was probably the only person here who actually treated you like a human being, and not like a coffee-bringing, document-stapling, hate-mail-responding cyborg with a government-approved stamp on its forehead. You were pretty sure it was because you reminded him of himself — another professional doormat for the higher-ups to wipe their feet on.

He was the director's right-hand man... and left-hand man too. If there was anything Cecil didn't want to do, Donald would be stuck doing it. That's how he became your mentor of sorts — Cecil had waved you off like an annoying mosquito and declared he didn't have time for insignificant interns like you, so Donald got forcibly drafted into babysitting duty.

You involuntarily saw yourself in Donald, too, a haunting glimpse of what your future might hold. Your gaze wandered from his aggressively receding hairline to his strangely bland face. Is that how you would end up? Senior assistant manager or whatever Donald's actual title was? You just hoped you would end up with more stylish glasses than his tragic grey frames.

When you were asked to return to your desk and help with other tasks, your mind wandered off again. A life solely dedicated to chasing the approval of others, to being at the bottom of the food chain, to accepting even microscopic scraps of attention as long as you would get noticed... was that really how your life was going to be? Become the human equivalent of a participation certificate?

When you were younger, your parents moved around a lot. Government duties and all that. You’d been to San Fransisco, St. Louis, Milwaukee, and a bunch of other big cities you barely remembered. The last time you were in Chicago was when you were five. You think it was when your mom was send there for two months to work on a “super secret mission”. Now you were back in the Windy City as an official GDA intern, which sounded way more impressive than it actually was.

Donald had asked you to deliver "extremely important documents" the director needed urgently. They were supposedly so top secret that they couldn't be sent electronically or by mail and had to be hand-delivered. You were convinced Donald just really pitied seeing you sitting at your desk all day and invented a task to give you something vaguely resembling purpose.

When you arrived at the glass-and-steel monstrosity in downtown Chicago, you endured a security process worse than the TSA: two body scans, multiple ID checks, and an interview that felt more like an interrogation — all so they could dramatically hand you... wait for it... two pages in a manila envelope.

"Close the door when you leave," the secretary droned without looking up from her phone, gnawing on her pen like it was a salami stick.

You nodded and smiled reflexively (your default response), then slipped out and eased the door shut with the careful precision of someone defusing a bomb. Looking down at the thin envelope in your hands, reality sank in. Did you really just take a flight in the middle of the night, went through all this alien like probing, just to be send away after five minutes? You sighed.

The hallway stretched out, empty — pretty sure you just saw a tumbleweed roll by. Security had been tight as a vice at the entrance, but once inside, the guards were seemingly on permanent coffee break. That's when you spotted it: a sign pointing to roof access. If anyone had been around, they might’ve seen the light bulb pop up over your head. If the government was going to waste your time, you might as well make it worthwhile with a nice view of Chicago before heading back.

You glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then slipped through the stairwell door and headed up.

The rooftop greeted you with a gust of wind that nearly snatched the precious two pages from your grasp. Clutching the envelope to your chest, you settled at a respectable distance from the edge. Safety first, exciting views second — you didn’t want to end up in the headlines as the first GDA intern that fell to her death while on duty, after all.

Chicago sprawled before you: all concrete, glass, and ant-sized humans going about their business. It was... fine, you thought. Nice, even. But not exactly the life-altering moment movies had promised. No epiphany, no sudden clarity about your life's purpose, just... buildings. Taller than the ones in Virginia, maybe, but still just… buildings.

Then, just as you were about to shrug and accept your boring fate, a flash of neon caught your eye. You froze mid-turn, eyes squinting.

About three blocks away, someone in a blinding mix of yellow, orange, and turquoise was flailing wildly at what looked like a living chunk of concrete. It was a fight — probably. At least, that’s what it was trying to be.

The hero, assuming that’s what you thought he was (villains usually had better fashion sense), launched himself at Concrete Man. Judging by how he pinballed off the alley walls just trying to reach his target, he was definitely new. Probably not even a properly trained hero.

Vigilantes and hobby heroes weren’t exactly rare these days. More and more people were waking up with powers, and plenty didn’t hesitate to use them, for better or worse. Technically, you were supposed to report your powers to the GDA and get registered before doing anything flashy. But good luck enforcing that on everyone.

Concrete Man responded by seizing the hero by his costume and hurling him sideways into the brick wall of an apartment building. The hero peeled himself off the wall, wobbling visibly even from your distant perch. But instead of retreating, he managed to launch himself forward again and crash directly into his opponent.

The impact sent both combatants tumbling violently against the walls of the alleyway, breaking off a fire escape in the process, and then finally into the street, where they managed to flip over a parked car.

The final crash sent both fighters sprawling. Concrete Man hit the ground hard, chunks of his rocky armor crumbling away to reveal dark skin and the surprisingly ordinary face of a man beneath the rubble. The hero was the first to get up. He didn’t look shaken, just winded, as he stared down at his fallen opponent.

He’d won. Somehow, against all odds and coordination, the rookie had actually taken down the villain.

You stood frozen, documents forgotten in your hand. You’d seen plenty of hero footage during your GDA internship: clean, polished takedowns by legends like Omni-Man or the Immortal. This wasn’t that. This was raw. Messy. Kind of pathetic.

And yet… You were leaning forward now, hands gripping the edge of the parapet, heart ticking faster than you cared to admit. This was probably the closest you'd ever come to being starstruck — and all because you’d just watched a clumsy rookie take down a giant pebble.

Blue and red flickered at the edge of your vision — sirens, no doubt — and the moment the hero noticed them, he bolted. He shot into the air, but clipped the side of a building, and spun wildly mid-air.

You watched, amused… until something about the trajectory felt off.

He was getting bigger.

No, closer.

Wait.

Your mind was still playing catch-up, trying to connect the dots, when your body finally decided to panic. You stumbled back, clutching your very important GDA documents like your life depended on them.

A blur of orange filled your vision, followed by a heavy thud, and the next thing you knew, you were flat on your back, staring at the sky, with the wind knocked clean out of you.

You blinked, disoriented. The thin GDA envelope was still clutched against your chest, safe and sound, so you sat up, heart thudding. No concussion, no major injuries. You were fine.

Your gaze shifted to the sprawled figure in orange, yellow, and turquoise lying a few feet away.

For a split second, your body locked up. The guy who just punched a literal walking, talking concrete wall was lying just an arm's length away from you — a mere (below average fit) human. The last time you physically hurt someone was when you accidentally slapped Donald on the forehead, trying to swat a fly. You were, without question, the last person on Earth who stood a chance against someone with superhuman strength.

Your fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and you scrambled to bolt for the door. But just as your foot lifted, he groaned and sat up, hand cradling his head.

Your heart was slamming violently against your ribs. Every instinct screamed run, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Up close, the outfit was even worse: faded orange rain boots, baggy turquoise joggers with at least two visible holes, and a tight orange top that definitely had seen better days. A yellow cloth masked the lower half of his face. Through his cracked pair of goggles, a sharp brown eye peered out.

You hadn’t realized you were full-on staring until he met your gaze. Instantly, your breath caught.

Your muscles froze. Not out of awe, but out of pure, feral fear.

Sure, he seemed like a hero. But these days, who knew? Powers didn’t come with moral compasses. What if he was one of those loose-cannon vigilantes who didn’t like witnesses?

Was this how it ended? Smacked off a rooftop just because you were nosy?

For a moment that felt like eternity, you both stared at each other, silence stretching until it got too uncomfortable.

“Are you—” your voice came out lower than you expected, so you tried again, louder. “Are you gonna kill me?”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your eyes dropped immediately, refusing to meet his.

A dozen grim scenarios flashed through your mind, one worse than the next, until they all blurred into static. Silence stretched.

“Huh?” the guy said, blinking. His voice was higher than you’d expected. “Wait — what? No! I — God, no. I was just… trying to help.”

You risked a glance up. He was standing now — and, wow, he was taller than you expected. Yeah, you definitely stood no chance at all against him.

He took a cautious step forward.

You mirrored it backward, stiff as a board.

He froze, then quickly raised both hands like he was trying to show you he meant no harm. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

His gaze flickered sideways, seeming nervous all of a sudden.

“I was just chasing this bad guy and then… uh—“ He scratched the back of his neck, shifting his weight. “I kinda lost control.”

A beat passed.

“Also, sorry about… you know.” He gestured vaguely at the rooftop. “Crashing into you.”

You gave him another cautious once-over. His posture was stiff, his eyes wide and unsure — it almost reminded you of a puppy meeting someone new for the first time. He definitely didn’t look dangerous. If anything, he seemed more scared of you than the other way around. Your shoulders dropped a little. It wasn’t safe, not exactly, but not an immediate threat either.

You offered him a tight-lipped smile.

“It was amazing!” you blurted before your brain could stop your mouth. Your face flushed. “I mean the fight against the stone guy. Not the part where you knocked me out.”

“Oh. Uh… thanks?” he said, blinking like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “I’m still figuring things out. Kind of winging it, honestly.”

Then, the two of you were both staring — holding the awkward prolonged eye contact like neither of you had any idea how social interactions were supposed to work. Still, there was something about him. He didn’t just survive a fight with a living concrete slab — he won. And he was a complete nobody.

And yet…

Was this what talent scouts felt at high school basketball games? That strange gut-deep certainty? The kid had no training, no coordination, almost non existent flying skills… and yet you could see it. Potential. Raw, stupid, unpolished potential.

Your breath caught.

And suddenly, like lightning hitting the ground, you got an idea. A brilliant idea. This was it. This was your ticket out. He was going to change your fate!

“What’s your name?” you asked, taking a step closer.

“Ma—” He stopped, caught himself, and scratched the back of his head. “Uh. I mean. Haven’t really settled on one yet.”

“We’ll figure that out,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, and closed the distance between you. “Have you ever thought about becoming a professional hero?”

He squinted at you. “A… what?”

“A professional hero,” you repeated, eyes bright. “Y’know. Like, full-time. Uniform, sponsors, TV deals, the whole package.”

He gave a vague shrug. “I guess? I mean, not really. I just do stuff.”

Your grin widened, your mind already drifting into the ideal version of your future. This was happening. This was your moment. Goodbye coffee runs, goodbye being Donald’s stand-in, and good-fucking-bye to being your parents’ puppet. They couldn’t say a damn thing if you were the one who discovered the next great superhero.

You were going to make history.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly, breaking you out of your mental victory parade.

You blinked, quickly told him, and then, with way too much energy, asked, “Are you interested in working with the GDA?”

He flinched slightly at your volume. “The… GDA?”

With dramatic flair, you yanked the retractable cord on your badge and shoved it right in his face. “Boom. See? I work for them.” (You purposely skipped over the ‘intern’ part.)

“I could help you become a real hero,” you said, voice dropping into a lower, persuasive tone. “We’ve got the training. The funding. The connections.”

You were already picturing your new business cards. Agent. Advisor. Executive Talent Scout. No, screw it — director.

The rookie blinked again, slowly. Then smiled politely.

“Thanks,” he said. “But no.”

Pop. There went your dream. Your smile dropped.

“I’m not really looking to join a government squad,” he added, scratching at the back of his neck. “Kinda trying to do my own thing.”

You stared at him like he’d just refused a winning lottery ticket. Thirty days paid vacation. Free dental. 401k. You were pretty sure Donald even said something about a masseuse coming in every Monday. Was he insane not to accept a deal like that?

“Well, uh, sorry again for crashing into you,” he said, waving vaguely in your direction. “Nice meeting you, though.”

You watched in horror as he turned away.

No. No no no! You can’t let this opportunity slip through your fingers like that!

You scrambled after him. “Wait! I — I work with really big names! Like, I’ve met the Immortal!”

He didn’t even glance back. “Miss, I’ve got places to be.”

You followed anyway, practically tripping over your own feet. “Okay, okay, I get it! You don’t want anyone telling you what to do. Totally fair. Authority sucks. The government’s kind of the worst!”

He stopped at the rooftop edge, one foot already on the parapet. You panicked.

“But resources!” you yelled. “You want to help people, right? We have actual resources. Real support. Equipment. You could do so much more.”

That made him hesitate.

He turned just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His expression had softened. This was it. Now or never — you pressed your advantage.

“We could train you. Help you get better. You’d be teamed with other pros — people with experience. People who could teach you. You could save thousands of lives, maybe millions.”

You paused for effect. “You could even be like… Omni-Man.”

That seemed to hit a nerve. His eyes widened, then dropped to the cracked concrete below him. He didn’t move. He was thinking.

You stood there, fists clenched, hardly breathing.

And then, when he lifted his gaze to meet yours, there was something in his expression you couldn’t quite place — curiosity? Hesitation?

“Like Omni-Man?” he asked.

You had him.

“Yes! Like Omni-Man! No — even better,” you said, nodding enthusiastically. “I saw what you did back there. You’ve got potential. You just need the right push!”

He turned fully to face you now. His shoulders lowered, the tension from just minutes in his stance slowly melting away. He let out a small sigh.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” you echoed, blinking.

“Yeah… maybe I could come by. You could show me around or whatev—”

Before he could finish, you squealed and threw your fists in the air, letting your precious envelope fall to the ground. He flinched slightly at the volume, but you barely noticed. You grabbed his shoulders, surprisingly solid under your fingers, and gave him a small shake.

“I’m gonna make you a star!”

He nodded a little, eyes wide with second thoughts. But it didn’t matter. He said yes.

You spun around, already rambling through the list of things you’d need: training schedule, PR angle, a costume designer, maybe even a catchphrase. Behind your whirlwind of words, your thoughts were soaring.

He agreed. He really agreed.

Not just to being trained or becoming a part of the GDA.

He agreed to help you escape. To pull you out of the endless, thankless spiral you’d been trapped in.

You had just taken your first step toward freedom. And you were never going back.

Read more on AO3.

#invincible #invincible x reader #invincible x you #invincible reader insert #mark grayson x reader #x reader #mark x reader #female reader #mark grayson fic #mark grayson fanfic #invincible fanfic

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mygnolia · 11 months ago

Text

A HUNDRED HIDDEN KISSES | s. jaeyun

୨୧ -› so, the story goes that you’re supposed to feud with Sim Jaeyun, with his perfectly handsome face, his foreign exchange student accent, or his flirty remarks. but the story has a plot twist; somewhere along the way, you fell for his winks and charm.

pair -› (BLONDE.) soccer player!jake x top student!fmr | trope -› one sided enemies to lovers | wc -› 1.7k | cw -› kissing but idk how to write two ppl kissing oops anyways downbad HORRENDOUSLY down bad jake here | library

the weird thing about a crush is, it happens unexpectedly.

maybe not so unexpected- because your heart has an attraction to the lamest soccer player on the team before your head even tolerated him. you hated sim jaeyun and you swore you did- but maybe you didn’t swear hard enough, because at some point, you could see your sense of rational floating above your head before it pops like a bubble and disappears into thin air.

see- you’re supposed to hate sim jake. he’s obnoxious and loud and always says ‘no’ in the accent that makes it incredibly clear that it’s him (and only him) who’s said it. and not just that- he’s become best friends with sunghoon in an instant. park sunghoon, aka, your study buddy since beginning of high school. so yeah- maybe you hate that sunghoon has started hanging out with jake more and you swear you always catch the new exchange student looking in your direction whenever he’s with sunghoon. he definitely talks about you, but sunghoon is as quiet as a mouse when you two study for exams- which is infuriating, and so unlike him. but there’s another huge huge problem.

jake is probably the prettiest boy you’ve met in your life.

he came to the school with shorter hair, but sunghoon’s ability to change someone’s entire look is blessed by the gods- and sunghoon himself was kissed by eternal beauty, so of course, when they started hanging out, you noticed the change in clothes to be more baggy, his walk to be much more confident, his grin to be sly, and his hair to be so much cuter when styled. you were royally fucked from the day you saw jake wave in your direction when he entered class, with a confident smile that you weren’t sure he only showed to you.

and that made you all the more irritated with him. “I am not going to teach him anything, hoon.” you state firmly. “he’s like- the most annoying younger brother you could ever ask for.” and there’s a worrying look that flashes in the boy’s eye, leaving you confused and pondering on the way home. “why don’t you teach him art history?”

“we goof around too much.” and you roll your eyes at his lame excuse.

and yet another problem arises. see, park sunghoon knew much more than you did when it came to jake. he knew that he played soccer in his backyard before heading to school, that his dog was a border collie, and that sim jake had a crush on you- aka- the most unavailable girl ever, who’s never dated anyone, thinks boys (especially boys who play sports) are stupid, and has a hatred for jake and only him. so sunghoon thinks his friend is utterly hopeless, and wants to tell him to give up, but when sunghoon hears how the boy raves about you and how pretty you looked in class today, he smacks jake on the arm and whines to him about shutting up and to stop being a loser.

“do you think she’ll like it if i dyed my hair blonde?”

sunghoon sighs, “you could dye your hair any color and she’d still want to cut it off.”

jake blinks. “but blondes are hot, right?”

and that’s how he shows up the next day, making you shrink in your seat from just how much better he looks and how much more annoying that makes him.

jake has heard about the guys you’ve rejected for liking you because they’re shallow. and jake sees how you scowl at him- but he’s determined to make you his girlfriend, so once again, he tells you good morning with that accent of his and that grin on him, and you mumble a good morning back, wondering why the hell he’s always trying to talk to you. maybe he still wants you to tutor him for art history. maybe that’s why he intercepts you on the way out of the school gates with heavy breathing after running across campus.

“please- stay after practice.” he begs you, and you recognize a fresh ocean scent that compliments his bubbly personality with how he’s run up to you and leans down to make eye contact. and there’s only one thought in your head, one that manifests into stupid words that stupid and now blonde sim jaeyun hears.

“you’re so pretty.” and you think if an alien ufo were to suck you up into space and carry you away from the pit of shame and embarrassment you’ve carved out for yourself, you would embrace extraterrestrial life without hesitation if it meant getting away from him. “fuck, sorry, i didn’t mean to say that.”

and fuck, his laugh his so cute when you hear it, so much so that it momentarily distracts you from the blaring truth that his efforts to look good for you have paid off. “you think i’m pretty?”

“pretty stupid.” and you try to say it with malice, but it comes out small and he knows you mean none of it. “i’ll be waiting with sunghoon on the bleachers.”

yeah- it’s safe to say that jake has never scored that many times against his goalie in his entire life. but his excitement is infectious, and when sunghoon sneaks out of the sitting area to meet his friend during a break, the latter knows something is up. “she called me pretty, hoon. like, she actually meant it.”

“are you sure?”

“and then she said i was pretty stupid, but liste-ow! what the hell?” he stops himself when he gets yet another smack from sunghoon- except this time, his friend’s eyes are shining.

“no way. she meant it?” and jake nods in earnest.

“that’s why she’s been waiting at the bleachers.” and sunghoon fake gags.

“you’re disgustingly in love with her or something.” jake offers him a lopsided smile and bounces off in your direction, afraid you’ve left now that there’s no one on the field and the sun might start to set soon. but to his relief, you’re there, with your pretty hair and your pretty face and your pretty everything.

“____!” he says running over with his bag. “sorry for keeping you waiting.”

you close your notebook, where you’ve done half of your math homework between watching jake pass the ball and scoring. and you’re a little irritated at how long it takes for boys to run across the field to practice soccer, but you’re just more worried about getting home safely. “tell me what you need. it’s cold, and it’s getting dark, sim.”

“you walk home?” and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t noticed something like that sooner. and you nod, packing your things slowly. “i’ll go with you.”

“why?”

“because i don’t want a pretty girl like you to walk home alone.” he says, changing his shoes.

“i’m not worried because it’s dark, i’m worried because it’s cold.” you argue, not ignoring how he calls you pretty.

“then wear my hoodie.”

“but my face will be cold.”

“then kiss me.” he blurts.

huh? kiss? jake?

“kiss?” you reiterate, staring at him like he has three heads.

jake’s eyes widen in panic. “well you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“it’s not like i don’t want to.”

“so if you want to, and your face is cold, why can’t we..”

“well i don’t know what it’s like to be kissed!” you admit awkwardly, suddenly finding the dirt on the bleachers much more interesting than the way jake is probably looking at you like you’re a loser.

“it’s okay, i haven’t either.” and his confession makes you whip your head around, face to face with a boy who very much looks like he’s had a girlfriend- or a few.

“but-“ and you’re definitely taken aback. “but you’re so..”

all of the playfulness floods back into his grin as he unabashedly observes your every reaction. “so…what, ____?” and despite a frown overcoming your features, your heart thuds rapidly with the proximity between you two, and you can’t help but lose your train of thought when he’s so close. “pretty?” and it refers to your slip of tongue, making you scrunch your nose in embarrassment.

“i don’t know.” your murmur.

“you don’t? come on angel, you aren’t the smartest in our class for nothing.” and you hear the way his accent permeates every few words, and unfortunately, it’s just painfully unfair how attractive he looks when he chuckles and reaches up. “may i?” he says, and you nod, letting him scoot closer and grasp your chin. and you give him permission because you don’t have a reason to say no, and even if you did, all protest dies on your tongue when he leans in just a little bit more, and your eyes flutter shut, tilted slightly for your lips to slot perfectly against his. and your face burns with how much you enjoyed your kiss with jake, so much so that when you part, it’s not for long, since you place your hands on his shoulders and whisper to no one but him, “kiss me again.”

and you kiss sim jaeyun on the bleachers for the second time, your hands pulling him close as you both enjoy the spark of the moment. and jake can’t get enough of you- it's evident with now the time you spend apart from each other far less in comparison to the time he spends with his eyes closed and with your lips against his.

you pull apart with a giggle and a boulder of bashfulness on your shoulders, unsure of how you even got here with your lip balm smeared across his lips. and you’re one of the smartest students there, but your train of thought probably crashed somewhere the moment you could smell the fresh scent of his cologne.

yeah- maybe you were doomed from the start.

“let’s get you home, yeah?”

and even though your face is still cold, you wear his hoodie and hold his hand to make sure you’re not cold anywhere else. “what did you want me to stay behind for?”

“right- art history!”

“i said it a whole bunch of times! i’m not going to tutor you, jake!”

he pouts. "still?"

reblogs + interactions r appreciated!

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naeverse · 2 years ago

Text

Lapdog

🐩staring: NerdMiguel x QueenBee Reader

💗 preview: “Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?

🌸Summary: You, Queen Bee, have been desiring a little assistant for a while—someone who can fetch you things, do your work, assist you in any way possible, and just make life much easier. However, after witnessing a surprising occurrence with one of the lamest students on campus, Miguel O'Hara, you believe you've found just that, and maybe something even better...

💗rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🐩tw/cw. Blackmail, Caught in the act, College AU, Demeaning, Desperation, Dirty talk, Dominance, Handjob, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Ownership, Public Masturbation, Power Differences, Praising, Public, Sex toys, Vibrator, etc…

🌸Word count: 9k

Small, quiet whimpers escaped the lips of the burly man to your left. His head lowered in an attempt to hide as he diligently tackled your college work. His large, left hand trembled while he solved long math equations, expressions, logarithms, and whatever else the packet held. You shifted your gaze from the four-eyed male to two others seated at your booth.

Peter B. Parker, the captain of the football team and the golden boy of the school, sat across from you, alongside his girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson, or MJ, who was the editor of the college newspaper. They cuddled up against each other, with MJ on his chest and his arm wrapped around her.

The two were considered your "friends" at the university, forming the famous clique that instilled fear and envy in the entire student body. However, between the adored football jock and the news girl, you, on the other hand, were a much bigger deal.

Everyone knew your name, and if they didn't, you were seen as an utter disgrace due to your cluelessness.

You were known as the university's queen bee.

Everyone loved or hated you; you didn't care. Any attention was welcome. You were the leader of the notorious sorority house of baddies, with a rich family that could drop and sue anyone with the drop of a hat. You could control the student body in masses with just a word, and had everyone, even the staff, wrapped around your pretty, manicured finger.

Whatever you said went, and don't you fucking dare think otherwise; you'd be an idiot to challenge the queen. Having the ability to turn any person into a complete nobody, withering away in debts and charges, kept everyone in their place.

But you wouldn't exactly say Peter and MJ were your friends, just students at college who possessed a certain kind of power that was highly useful to have in your corner.

Peter and his kind, sweet persona solidified bonds with other universities and the dean themselves. He was the face of your campus and was hella popular.

MJ headed the media, and whatever she said or wrote in the newspaper or the college blog was believed by everyone on campus, even if it was false.

Not that anyone would know...

Peter, MJ, and you were at the top of the food chain at your university; no one else mattered and was worth the time.

So why the hell was this lowlife sitting at your booth?

Miguel O'Hara, known as the nerdiest of the nerds on your college campus, sat beside you at your usual booth in Mama's diner, your clique's hangout spot.

To be fair, you didn't classify Miguel as such; more of a loner because he didn't look like a nerd. His body was covered in bulging muscles that contrasted greatly with his quiet persona. He had a towering height that rose above most of the football team, and he got attention from girls.

Or, well...

Girls gave him attention, not like the guy minded them.

He kept to himself, always having his nose stuck in a book. To make him even more of a dork, he worked at the school library. Due to his elusive nature and how hard he was to categorize, the loner had gained a distasteful reputation; many students on campus hated him as a result.

Was he a jock due to his bulging muscles, a bad boy due to his mysteriousness and constant desire for solitude, or was he a nerd for always being found reading, and whenever he spoke, only intellectual things came out?

He was a tricky case.

And not one you cared about until today…

You never would have paid the introverted male any attention if it weren't for you, this morning, stumbling into the library in search of someone to do your homework. Instead of finding a lowlife in waiting, you found something much better…

You found Miguel in his office, located at the far back of the library, moaning and jerking off under his desk. To make matters worse, AirPods adorned his ears, blocking out any awareness of your presence. You even leaned over his shoulder to discover that he was clearly watching porn.

He was definitely an amateur...

But a needy little thing he was...

The sight before you was an honest gold mine, something that would be perfect for MJ to post on the school blog as you captured a video of the surprising occurrence.

It was hard to fathom how much his reputation, if he had one, would plummet once the entire school got a look at this. But then, being the cunning queen you were, you had a better idea for that video…

You decided to use it as a means to have an around-the-clock assistant that would come running at your every beck and call, at any given time. It was a great idea, especially with the lowlife not being unpleasant to the eyes.

So now here he was, being a good little puppy for you and doing your homework, except...

It didn't seem like your associates were too pleased with your puppy’s presence.

You met Peter's gaze, his amber eyes furrowed in confusion as he glanced from you to the muscular loner and back again. "Okay, why the hell is he here?" he finally asked after a while of just staring at the two of you. A smirk spread across your lips at his question. "I believe you have eyes, Peter. He's doing my homework," you simply said with a sly grin, continuing your subtle movements under the table, which only made the geek clench his pencil even more.

Peter and MJ recognized that look on you, that sneaky smile you wore whenever you were up to no good. But this time, they couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and how it involved the four-eyed freak.

MJ looked between you and Miguel as well, her cherry lips pursing. "Why here, though?" she asked, her head still resting against Peter's chest. "Most of the time when we meet at Mama's diner, we gossip, we talk about deep stuff. We can't do that with him here," she acknowledged, motioning to Miguel in the corner, who seemed very focused on solving a long ass math problem.

You couldn't help but look over at him as well, taking in the sight of his heavy breathing and faintly red cheeks, before looking back at your associates, who still wore expressions of confusion and discomfort. You huffed, giving them a fake pout. “Come on, Miguel won't utter a single word to anyone...

Now, would you?”

You asked, turning to look at the large Latino, his amber orbs covered with a pair of black eyeglasses as he remained silent, adamantly trying to avoid eye contact. You scowled, giving him a tight squeeze, followed by a deep stroke making him jolt. His eyes briefly rolled, his mouth stammering, trying to find his words. “No… I won't.” He said so low and deep you had to lean in to hear him.

You could visibly see him struggling, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he tried painstakingly to control his breathing. You grinned, watching him return to work on your math packet like a good little puppy. “See? He can be trusted.” You explained with a smile, continuing your tantalizing play on the nerd, which only made the Latino male suck in a breath and grip his pencil tighter.

You swore you thought the wooden tool would snap in two any second now…

“Fine, but what made you want to bring him of all people?” Peter asked next, turning your gaze onto him. “He holds no power at our Uni. He’s useless to us.” He said with a chuckle, running his fingers through his girlfriend's red hair. You chuckled at his belief that the four-eyed male was ‘useless’;

Currently, he was everything but…

“You know how much I wanted my own little assistant for some time.” You replied with a smirk, tracing Miguel under the table, feeling your fingers begin to become further coated in his essence. “As in someone who can fetch me things, do my work,

Satisfy my every need…”

You abruptly squeezed Miguel once more, a sudden audible groan passing his lips, gaining everyone's attention. Peter and MJ glanced over at Miguel with raised eyebrows before just brushing it off as the geek having one of his weird moments.

Subtly, you shot the dweeb a glare, making his ears redden and clear his throat. He flicked his pencil around in his thick fingers, beginning to erase a mistake he made due to your harsh grip before you turned back to your associates with a nonchalant smile.

“Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?”

You whispered, glancing over at Miguel, who was trying not to acknowledge your gaze, seeming to be very interested in the ways of Calculus II.

“Aww… Peter, you know me so well.” You thought with a small grin, continuing to stroke the trembling male. You could feel the dweeb strain underneath his black jeans, enjoying how greatly he was trying to hide his pleasure. With your thumb, you brushed over his sensitive tip, making him whimper loudly, despite his effort to suppress it by biting his lip.

You shot him another stern look, slightly relieved to hear a groan of annoyance from MJ at the same time. At her outburst, it drew your attention over to her to see she was looking over at the workers in Mama's diner who were diligently working in the kitchen area of the diner. “Gosh, we've been sitting here for 20 minutes, and our order still isn't here.” She whined, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouty child in the grocery store.

“Come on, baby, it should be out in a little bit,” Peter whispered, trying to comfort her. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at her dramatics. MJ always did this to get attention, Peter’s attention in particular, who you’ve noticed was staring at you a lot more than usual upon entering Mama’s diner today.

You met MJ’s blue eyes, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Actually, why don't you two go check it out? See what's the hold-up?” You proposed, glancing over at Miguel to see his defined Adam's apple bob at your words, his nervousness only exciting you further.

Oblivious to your proposal and the fact that you, the queen, said it, Peter and MJ nodded and slid out of the booth. You watched in the corner of your eye as they walked away from your table and towards the front of the diner.

‘Now the fun can begin…’

You thought, a wicked grin spreading across your glossy lips. With them gone, you wanted nothing more than to have some fun with your new puppy. You turned in your seat to finally make eye contact with the panting male, and you couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.

The dweeb’s coffee-brown curls were plastered to his sweaty forehead, his amber orbs hooded behind his glasses while his grip on his pencil was slowly loosening. Breathy moans escaped his parted lips as his hips thrust softly into your hand, his eyes rolling with each of his movements.

Upon the two leaving the table, it seemed the nerd had completely dropped his facade, showing just how needy he was.

You laughed, glancing down to see the mess he was making in his black jeans. A small wet patch gradually soaked the zipper and crotch of the denim. “I knew you didn't finish in the library.” You teased, continuing to stroke him. He grunted, shifting in the booth to better angle himself into your clenched palm. “I couldn't…You interrupted me.” He replied hoarsely, making you raise an eyebrow. You abruptly gripped his cock at his response, making him whine.

“I interrupted you?”

You scoffed, not believing the balls on this nerd. “You have more mouth than I thought, Miguel O'Hara.” You hissed, releasing him and drawing down his pants, exposing his huge member fully. His hooded eyes instantly snapped open, deep pants passing his lips. “What are you—what are you doing? Someone could see.” He exclaimed through stammers, his amber eyes blown in a mixture of lust and worry as they looked all around in fear of someone being near.

You rolled your eyes at the nerd’s empty concerns. Your clique's favorite booth was positioned in the back of the diner, completely secluded. Of course, you’ll take precautions; you wouldn’t want someone to capture the sight of you having fun with a loser like him, so the idiot was fine.

Not that you cared at the moment...

“I honestly don't know what you're so worried about. You didn't seem concerned about someone seeing you when you were jerking off this morning.” You taunted, earning an angry growl from him, his cock twitching a little at that recollection. “Mierda, I didn't know anyone was there. The library is always empty in the mornings.” He said in a low voice, his tone rough and holding so much spite in it.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his anger, as if he could do anything about it. His massive body was stuck on the inside of your booth, his well-endowed cock and balls out on display.

He was completely vulnerable to you…

Your eyes trailed him, taking him in slowly, and to your surprise, you found yourself licking your lips at the sight.

Even though the dork was a lowly peasant at your school, carrying his stupid little textbooks and allowing the jocks to beat on him when he had the muscles and height to beat their asses ten-fold.

He had an impressive cock…

It was fully erect, sticking straight up into the air with a small patch of dark brown, coarse hair sitting atop his dark shaft, trailing an irresistible line up under his beige sweater. His cock was long, girthy, and definitely above average, with a brown, angry tip dripping with precum, begging to be tasted and played with.

During your moment of ogling, his large, veiny hand hastily covered the oddly magnificent sight, snapping you from your trance. You glared up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, coffee-brown curls that hung over his framed eyes, and his attempt to cover his enormity between his legs with his hand.

“Move.” You sternly said, your tone showing just how annoyed and furious you were. You crossed your arms over your white-clad chest, awaiting the loser to obey, but surprisingly, he did no such thing. Miguel simply clenched his jaw, averted his gaze from you, not at all listening to the order you’ve just given him.

Your glossy lips pulled into a snarl, not remembering the last time someone would dare be defiant towards you, but it seemed this nerd, loner, whatever the hell he classified as, was something different…

He knew who you were, yet he was disobeying you, talking back, and worst of all…

Not submitting.

You’ve met many infuriating individuals, but he had to take the cake.

Your jaw clenched, trying to keep your composure and remind yourself that you needed him around because you were a hair's breadth from reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone to do the unthinkable. You cleared your throat, sliding so close to him that you could feel the heat of his bare, thick thighs against yours under the short, expensive pink skirt you adorned.

You brushed a strand of his coffee-brown hair behind his ear, noticing how he flinched slightly before leaning in close.

“Move your hand, or I'll make sure to send that little video of you jerking off to MJ. I think she’ll enjoy posting that onto her little blog for the whole college to see.”

You whispered into his ear, the threat striking the nerd greatly. A wave of satisfaction rushed through your being when he turned to face you, his amber eyes narrowed in rage, but a hint of fear evident in them as well. “You wouldn't,” he said, calling your bluff in a rough, breathless voice which only made you laugh.

“You must really be living under a rock on campus if you think I’m bluffing,” you chuckled darkly as the nerd gulped. “Now…” you began, glancing down at his shielded hand over what you desired. “Unless you want the entire college to know how much of a needy little puppy you are, you will move your damn hand and allow me to do whatever I please.” You sternly said, looking down at his trembling hand and then up at him.

You found it utterly adorable how he tried to keep your hardened gaze, but he would learn that when you want something, you’ll get it no matter what.

He cursed softly, running a frustrated hand through his messy coffee-brown curls. He captured his bottom lip in his teeth and reluctantly moved his hands, placing them on either side of him on the booth’s cushions. You smirked at his obedience. “Good boy,” you praised in a teasing voice, patting his head like the doggy he was; however, he yanked away. You scoffed at his defiance.

‘It seems my puppy needs more training. No worries; he’ll submit if he likes it or not.’

You thought, casting your eyes down to meet his painfully hard and erect cock. Biting your lip, you wrapped a hand around his base, feeling how brick and sticky it was in your palm.

But before granting your puppy the sweet release he desired, he had a lesson to learn…

You harshly gripped his shaft, earning a loud groan to escape his throat. “I'm very pissed at you. Want to know why?” You asked, squeezing his cock even more, making him hiss. He clutched the cushion of the booth in his large hands, clenching his jaw once more. “Why?” He said through gritted teeth.

"Why? You nearly got us caught with those outbursts, idiot," you spat, finding a rhythm and stroking him roughly under the table. His abundant precum allowed you to smoothly run your fist along him. He groaned, his head falling back against the booth.

"Maybe... you should f-fucking stop then," he said through pants, which only made you giggle. "Oh, I'm just finishing what you started in the library, puppy," you said with a fake pout.

"And here I thought you liked getting off in public places."

Miguel moaned softly at your words, his cock twitching in your hand in response. You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh? Don't tell me that's the truth," you teased with a soft chuckle, knowing you'll surely have some fun with that hidden kink of his in the future.

However, no response was heard from him, defending nor agreeing with your proposal; only the occasional low moans and groans escaped his lips. You snarled, pressing your thumb into the crown of his tip, eliciting a rewarding jolt and a Spanish curse to fall from his lips.

"If you won't respond to that, then answer this," you hissed, nose scrunched up in disgust as you continued your stroking. "You act all big and tough when you're alone with me, yet you curl up into a little ball when others are around," you stated with a smirk. "Why is that?"

"Because you don't fucking scare me," he said angrily with a steady voice. You scoffed in amusement, your eyes roaming over his bulging muscles through the sleeves of his beige sweater—the fabric appearing strained. "And others do?" you retorted with a snicker, causing him to growl in annoyance and look away. "It's not like that."

"Oh yeah, then what is it?" you inquired, purposely quickening your pace on his shaft, stroking him faster and pressing your palm into his length, the desire to see him lose control driving you. He whined and whimpered uncontrollably, his large hand landing on your thigh, gripping it tightly through your skirt, urging you to slow down.

You sighed heavily; Miguel was so frustrating. The dweeb's mouth constantly spoke of defiance and disrespect, while his body contradicted him each time—his hips steadily moved in sync with your palm, and his member twitched in your hand. It seemed even he was confused about what he wanted, but being the sweet master you were, you'd assist him in discovering his true desires.

But first, he had to be taught to fix his attitude because he was really pissing you off.

You brushed the pad of your thumb over his tip, intensifying his pleasure with every jerk of your hand. "I don't like your attitude with me," you said angrily, smacking his hand off your thigh and grabbing his chin.

You roughly turned him to look at you, his eyes dazed behind his black glasses, and his lips parted. "I hold the power of your entire reputation in my hands. I can get your big ass kicked out of this damn college just by showing the dean that video of you," you warned, looking at his face in complete rage.

"Do you fucking understand me!?" you exclaimed, your nails piercing into the underside of his chin. Your eyes glared daggers at him as you continued to slide your hand up and down his trembling shaft.

He clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as his hand landed on your wrist, deep groans continuing to pass his lips at your movement. "Y-yes, fuck," he moaned, biting his lip. "Yes to what?" you demanded, seeking clarity. With your thumb, you caressed in small circles around the crown of his tip, a smirk spreading across your glossy lips when his grip on your wrist tightened. "Yes, I-I... understand," he said, his deep voice sounding rather airy and breathless.

"Good boy," you whispered, tilting your head at him and glancing down to see more pre-cum sprouting from his tip, dripping down his shaft and coating your hand. Miguel growled. "What do you even want from me?" he asked through trembles of pleasure, his cock twitching in your fist. Your smirk broadened, turning your attention from his cock to the four-eyed male, his chin still resting between your manicured fingers.

"You heard that conversation between Peter, MJ, and me, did you not?" you inquired with a raised eyebrow, making him heave a trembling sigh. "Lapdog, right? That's what you want?"

"Indeed," you chuckled, releasing him. He whimpered, his thighs quivering, as heavy pants passed his lips. He rubbed his chin, pressing his backside into the leather cushions and breathing heavily. You reached over him, grabbing a few napkins from its container to clean your hands, feeling Miguel's eyes on you all the while.

When you met his gaze, you weren't surprised to see the sight of anger and irritation, but what did surprise you was the hint of curiosity found in his intense gaze.

'Was the dork interested in being your puppy?'

"Why?" he finally asked after catching his breath. You laughed, turning to him with a wicked grin. "The better question is...

Why not?"

You replied with a snicker. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed once more. "And you want me to be your damn lapdog?" he asked, full of spite and rage, his amber eyes appeared redder than usual, but it didn't faze you. "Yes, or that video goes out to everyone," you said with a grin, your eyes lingering along his body. "And I think everyone would be rather shocked to see what you've been hiding under all that ugly clothing," you chuckled, motioning down at his massive and still very hard cock.

He snarled, looking away from you and out the window beside him. A silence fell upon the two of you as you simply took him in—his defined cheekbones, broad nose, thick neck, and massive body covered in a hideous beige sweater, black jeans, and white Converse.

'Goodness, this is going to be fun. The most fun I've probably had in years.'

You thought, faking a pout and leaning towards him to press your plush lips against his ear. He jumped slightly at your closeness, making you giggle as you ran a hand over his chest, tracing his defined pecs and abs through his sweater.

"Come on, puppy. Don't be so mad; you might even enjoy it."

You teased, and to your anticipation, his cock throbbed in response. He groaned lowly, your chest covered in a white crop top pressing into his arm. "It’s not like I have a damn choice," he retorted, his voice still resonating with fury.

"Well… get used to it."

You uttered, licking a stripe across his sharp jawline and enjoying how he shuddered at the feeling. You then pulled away, his amber eyes following you like the needy puppy he was.

"Now, every doggy needs a collar," you uttered with a smile, causing him to scowl. "I’m not wearing a damn collar."

"So quick to assume, puppy," you laughed, only seeming to enrage the geek even more. "Stop calling me that," he growled, causing you to sigh, finding it rather annoying how he still believed he held some type of control here.

He'll learn sooner or later.

"You’ll grow to love it, puppy," you emphasized, turning from his faltering glare to rummage in your $500 Prada bag, fishing out a toy you purchased just for your little doggy. When you acquired it, you turned to him, twirling the dark blue and red crystallized ring in your fingers. Miguel's eyes followed it, his chest heaving in confusion and disdain, but his cock pulsated in desire and curiosity.

He could scowl and glare at you all he wanted, but his body gave him away, every single time.

“What the fuck is that?” He snapped, once he regained his composure, his amber eyes looking from the ring to you through his black eyeglasses. You chuckled, running your fingers along the ring. “After our little run-in at the library this morning, I bought my new puppy something special.” You explained, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The geek looked perplexed for the first time.

It was a cute look on him…

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be fun. I promise...” You giggled, glancing down at his dark cock, still twitching in desire. You then held your hand out to him, the large ring resting in your palm.

“Now…show me how much of a good doggy you can be and put this on…”

“Ugh, they are saying it's another 20 minutes.” MJ groaned, climbing into the booth right after Peter. You heaved a sigh in irritation; Mama's diner was never this backed up. It was rather annoying to think you all would have to wait just for three measly milkshakes.

“So, what’s the two of you been doing? He looks like he’s about to fucking faint.” Peter joked, glancing over at Miguel, whose bronze face was covered in beads of sweat. His amber eyes trained on the packet of math work once more. You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. The math problem must be stressing him out.” You said with a smile, subtly glancing over at your phone that rested beside you on the booth, the vibrator app pulled up on the screen that was already at level 2.

The ring that you had bought for your new puppy was nestled around the base of his cock, right over his balls, stimulating both of his sensitive areas. You gave him the benefit of the doubt to cover himself; you weren’t a total meanie.

You just needed him to know his place, as it seemed he kept forgetting.

So you decided to seat him in front of two of the most popular students at your college with a pulsating vibrator around his cock.

What better way for him to learn...?

"Okay…" MJ trailed off, brushing off the situation as nothing. "Umm, what even is his name?" She asked, talking about Miguel as if he wasn't even there. At her inquiry, you turned to your puppy, giving him a soft pat on the head. "Tell her your name," you said sweetly, noticing the subtle glare from him. "Miguel," he responded in a gruff voice without looking up from the packet.

"Your full name," you added with a smirk, wishing to further annoy him. The dweeb’s jaw clenched at your persistence. "Miguel O’Hara," he growled, hastily returning to solving question 24 of your math packet. MJ looked between the two of you, taking in the interaction before leaning across the table, her blue eyes set on you.

“Seriously, what are you up to with him?”

She asked in a hushed tone like no one at the table could hear her as her red eyebrows furrowed in concern. You scoffed, not believing that she would dare to ask you such a thing.

“Why the hell are you questioning anything that I do?” You spat angrily. “The fucking dweeb is just doing my damn homework,” you said, your eyes glaring into hers.

Perhaps, the load of hair upon MJ's head was the cause of her forgetfulness. Regardless of the culprit, the redhead better keep in mind how much you love fixing her mistakes and kicking her back into line if she oversteps.

You've done it to so many others, she'll be no different…

“Hey, hey, settle down,” Peter said, trying to calm the situation between the two of you. The tension in the air was so thick, it could be sliced with a spoon, let alone a knife.

“There's nothing wrong with what Y/N is doing,” Peter said, placing a hand on MJ’s shoulder and pulling her back towards his chest. MJ sighed, giving you an apologetic look. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” You rolled your eyes, dismissing her as you met Peter’s eyes that also looked between Miguel and you. “Although, I must say…” He began, and to your surprise, settled his amber eyes onto Miguel.

You smirked, loving to see how the aroused geek would handle this, your eyes trained on him. Miguel, noticing the lack of conversation, hesitantly looked up to be met with six eyes staring back at him.

“How the hell are you so…massive?” Peter asked with a chuckle. “You don’t do shit except read, play chess, or whatever else you nerds do.” Peter jested, causing everyone, except Miguel, to laugh. Your eyes were trained on Miguel as he glanced over at you and back at Peter before clearing his throat. “Genetics.” He mumbled, returning back to writing out the parametric formula to solve the equations he was on.

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, the introverted male’s words not seeming to have reached his ears. “What did you say? Speak up, man.” He laughed, causing Miguel to clench his jaw once more. His pencil halted upon the paper as he casted his amber eyes up to the jock. “Genetics. That's all it is.” He repeated in a louder tone.

“So, you are telling me, you do not work out?” MJ asked in surprise and awe, her blue eyes roaming over his body. You were certain she was checking your new puppy out.

You growled, oddly, shooting a glare at her.

You didn’t know what was with her today, but MJ was working your last nerve.

MJ, thankfully, shut up after your look, but your puppy answered anyway. “A little,” he replied, twirling the pencil in his thick fingers nervously. You couldn’t help but gaze at him—his massive musculature snug under his beige sweater that seemed to hug him in all the right places.

His biceps bulging, his hardened pecs defined, and you could even sneak a peek at his abdominal muscles pressing against the warm fabric. You bit your lip, the desire to get him out of that ugly sweater filling your being until you shook off the thought.

The damn dweeb was making you forget your title and your reputation…

But you couldn’t lie.

The geek was exceeding your expectations…

Not only was he impressive for being at the very bottom of the student hierarchy and having the ability to make you feel all hot and bothered, but despite his cock being heavily stimulated by the vibrating ring, his voice didn't waver or falter.

Your puppy was tougher than you thought…

‘We’ll see about that.’

With a click of your phone, you raised the vibrations from a mere 2 to a 5. Instantly at the change, Miguel jolted in his seat. You watched with a look of pure innocence on your face as Peter’s eyebrows furrowed.

He snickered, eyeing the glasses-wearing male across from him at the table. “Man, you are weird as heck, but I’ll let it slide,” he said with a smile, glancing over at you, his eyes full of admiration. “If the queen here can put up with your presence, which is rare,” Peter snickered, “I’ll be willing to open a spot on the team to see how you do,” he proposed, which shocked you.

It was hard to get on Peter’s football team, yet he was practically giving it to Miguel, the most disliked male at school, on a silver platter.

You couldn’t help but feel a little angry at that, slowly becoming a bit possessive over your new puppy.

But thankfully, Miguel said the words for you. “I-I’m not interested,” he uttered, clearing his throat and clenching the pencil tightly in his large hand. You smirked, watching Peter’s eyebrows rise in shock. He glanced over at MJ, who had become quiet after your glare.

“This dude is really turning down my offer, babe,” he said, nudging MJ, who snapped out of her trance to turn her blue eyes onto Miguel. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Actually…” you said, instantly drawing their eyes on you. “It’s better if he didn’t. I’ll lose my new lapdog, and we wouldn’t want that… Isn’t that right?” You asked, running your manicured fingers through Miguel’s coffee-brown hair. You watched his jaw clench and a subtle blush spread across his lips.

Seems as if he's starting to like the name or you claiming him…

Indeed, Miguel was a naughty one…

Peter’s stunned expression instantly changed at your words. He cleared his throat, giving you a nod. “Of course, but the offer still stands,” he offered once more, looking over at you as he said it.

You gave him a small smile before MJ sat up in her chair with a grin, the color restoring back into her being after you rightfully snuffed it out. “Since the workers are taking so long, let’s play a game. Never Have I Ever, anyone?!” she exclaimed, a smile adorning her cherry lips.

You grinned, liking the idea, before a thought came to your head, causing you to heave a sigh. “Normally drinks are involved. We don’t have any,” you commented, instantly MJ reached into the pocket of Peter’s red and blue varsity jacket, pulling out his metal flask. His eyes widened in shock before he laughed, shaking his head. “Damn, I thought you didn’t know about that.”

“I know everything, baby.” MJ giggled, placing the metal flask in the center of the table. You smirked, glancing over at Miguel, who had his arms crossed upon the table, his head lowered over the math packet. He was panting, and his thighs were trembling next to your own. He wasn’t writing anything as he seemed like he was just sitting there.

But you knew what your needy puppy was up to…

He was enjoying himself, relishing in the sensation from the vibrator ring you had bought him. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

While Peter and MJ discussed the rules of the game, you leaned in close to Miguel, pressing your glossy lips against his ear. “Are you enjoying your little toy, puppy?” you inquired, causing him to suck in a breath. “Ay cono, turn it off,” he panted, whispering to you in desperation. He turned his hooded eyes onto you, and you met his gaze with a sly grin. “Why? You like it,” you whispered back with a small giggle, watching his ears redden and a vein bulge from his forehead as he tried to suppress his anger.

“So no, it’s not coming off anytime soon,” you told him. “Now, you'll play this game with us and finish my work later.”

“I don’t want to fucking play,” he growled, making your forced smile falter. You subtly reached over to your phone, turning the vibrations up from level 5 to 7. Miguel's voice caught in his throat, his hand landing on your thigh once more. You could even faintly hear the buzzing in his jeans that was slowly making the geek lose his composure.

His large palm covered your smooth skin as he gripped it tightly while he quivered. He cursed under his breath, beginning to softly pat your thigh to call a truce. You watched him with a smirk, loving how he was writhing and squirming in his seat, knowing you were the sole cause of it. “I-I’ll play,” he whined, lowering his head to hide, his amber eyes on you over his arm. You smiled, lowering it back to a mere 5.

‘Don’t piss me off,’ you mouthed, turning back to Peter and MJ to find they were, thankfully, still talking.

You didn’t want to hear what any of them had to say when it came to Miguel and you, especially from MJ.

“The dweeb is going to play too,” you said, hastily gaining everyone’s attention. “Awesome, do you want to go around as ages? Whoever is the youngest goes first?” MJ suggested. “I think the oldest should go first,” you said with a wicked grin, knowing everyone would choose the latter since you, the queen bee, said so.

If your intuition was correct, which it always was, you sensed Miguel was older than the rest of you. His demeanor and rough look showed his maturity, and you couldn’t help but become a little aroused at the assumption.

“Fine. I’m 23,” MJ said, glancing over at Peter next. “25,” he replied, soon looking at you. “24,” you smiled before finally setting your eyes on the trembling male. His amber eyes shifted from all of your eager gazes. He cleared his throat, tanned cheeks a soft red. “26.” His voice, like usual, was deep and rather low, but you heard his answer loud and clear.

You were right...

The muscular geek was not only a disobedient lowlife, but he was older than you. ‘How fun?’ you thought, looking him up and down beside you. It made everything even sweeter.

“Well, you go first,” Peter said, motioning to Miguel with his head, his dark brown hair swaying with his slight movement. The dweeb gulped, merely sitting there for a while. It was for so long that you pondered if he had even played the common game before until he finally spoke.

“Never have I ever fallen asleep during a movie,” he muttered, keeping his gaze on the table.

'Of course, a boring one, like I thought.’ You groaned, nudging his arm. “Come on, that shit blows,” you said with an eye roll. “We want something steamy, hot…” You whispered, reaching over to caress his thigh under the table. He gulped, clenching his jaw and landing his large, calloused hand on yours to cease your movement. “Fine…” he said, turning to look at you in particular.

“Never have I ever walked in on someone without knocking.”

Miguel asked with a sly grin that surprised you greatly, and left you angry as hell. You growled, hearing Peter and MJ begin to discuss their answers. “Gosh, I walked in on one of the guys with their girlfriends in the locker room,” Peter sighed as MJ didn’t have an unfortunate occurrence happen to her, but not like you cared about either of them at the moment.

You glared at Miguel, his taunting smirk and stupid glasses adorning his face, the desire to slap them both off overwhelming your being.

You turned to see Peter already taking a swig of the metal flask, a grimace on his face after the drink. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have chosen the strong stuff,” he commented, glancing up at you. “Now, what about the Queen bee? Walked in on one of those baddies at your sorority house?” He inquired with a chuckle. You looked over at Miguel, his eyes narrowing as he watched you take the flask, gulping down a large mouthful of the liquor.

As Peter said, the shit was strong, and it took everything in you not to cough, suppressing the urge by clearing your throat. “No…” You replied, placing the flask back on the table and subtly looking over at Miguel before meeting your two associates' curious gazes. “Then what happened then?” MJ asked, deeply intrigued.

“Well, I walked in on someone jerking off.”

You noticed beside you, Miguel’s entire body became rigid on the booth; his hand squeezed yours under the table in a rather desperate way. He was begging you with the slight touch to cease any further words.

How cute…

You smirked at the feeling, loving how you had the dweeb filled with anxiety and nervousness about whether you'll spill his deep secret or not.

But you're only a bitch when you want to be…

“That’s all you get, though.” You laughed, causing cries of frustration to erupt, although you didn’t miss the sigh of relief that passed Miguel’s lips even though he was the one who called your bluff and dug his own grave.

“First round, and it seems Queen Bee and I are tied on who’s paying for our order.” Peter laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. “If it ever gets here,” MJ added with a groan.

“Even more of a reason to continue playing,” Peter said with a smirk. “But it seems as if it’s my turn, being 25 and all.” He said, sitting back against the cushions of the booth, humming in thought. “Ah, got one.” He commented with a grin.

“Never had I ever used a mirror during romantic intercourse.” He asked, his amber eyes looking around the table.

Of course, being the fun queen bee you were, you took the flask. “I mean, if you haven’t, you are missing out.” You grinned, taking another swig of the strong liquor, feeling the satisfying sting in the back of your throat when you placed the container back on the table. You could feel the heat radiating from Miguel’s body at the mention of you doing something so naughty.

You wouldn’t mind doing something like that with him only when he was ready…

A small blush spread across MJ’s cheeks at the erotic question. “I’ve always wanted to do it.” She said, bringing a smile to Peter's lips. He snaked an arm around her, caressing her arm as he spoke in a sultry and seductive voice. “Oh really? We can always try it after-

“Oh my gosh. Get a fucking room already.” You interrupted with a snicker, eyeing the two lovebirds. “Okay, okay,” MJ said with a giggle, eyes turning to Miguel who hastily dismissed it with a head shake.

Of course, the fucking dweeb doesn’t know how to have fun.

With you, he’ll know nothing else; you’ll make sure of it.

“Well, it’s your turn now,” MJ smiled. Finally, it was your turn, instantly thinking of a proposition that could really reveal some deep secrets about Miguel.

Something he's been hiding…

You sat back in your seat, pondering your answer when your eyes met Miguel. Just the sight of the massive male was making your brain sprout with ideas. Who knew how helpful he could be with just his mere presence?

Why not reward him for the assistance?

Subtly, you sat up, turning the vibrations up to a 7 while starting your round.

“Never have I ever had a sexual encounter in a public place and secretly liked it.”

You proposed, glancing over at Miguel, who was losing it. He gritted his teeth, lowering his head to try to hide his fluttering eyes and heavy pants, but your associates’ words surprised you. “Gosh, both of us,” you heard them say, drawing your attention from your puppy.

“Yeah, we did a vibrator challenge on each other, and we went to a mall,” Peter said with a smile and a head shake. “It wasn’t enjoyable with the many people around at the sudden bursts of pleasure, but overall…it was fun,” MJ added, snuggling into Peter’s chest.

You slowly nodded, retaining the idea for further use and glancing back at Miguel, who was shaking. You felt his hand on your thigh once more and soon his soft pats, as if he was a wrestler trying to tap out of the ring.

But you weren’t a merciful referee; he could endure it a little longer…

You leaned in close to him, pretending to reach down to pick up the pencil that had accidentally rolled off the table due to his squirming. “Lift your head and play the damn game,” you spat harshly into his ear as he frantically shook his head. “Fuck, I-I can’t,” he whined breathlessly. “Mierda, I’m close. I-I can’t,” he repeated, only making you smirk.

“Be a good puppy, hold it, and play the game, or I’ll raise it to the highest level,” you told him sternly, your fingers finding the pencil in the leather cushions. You soon rose, a smile on your lips as you placed the wooden tool onto the table. “Miguel, how about you?” you inquired in a sweet voice, the lovebirds finishing their swigs of the flask. “Done anything fun in public and secretly enjoyed it?” you asked, curious about how he'd answer and respond.

Like a good doggy, he lifted his head as you commanded. His dark, hazy eyes looked between the three of you before simply reaching over and taking a swig of the flask.

“Fucking hell!? The nerd knows fun!” Peter commented with a laugh, while the rest of you looked on in astonishment. Miguel placed the flask down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Explain,” you urged, nudging him with a kick under the table. He jolted, shooting you a subtle glare, causing you to raise an eyebrow, reaching over for your phone when Miguel gave you a gentle squeeze of desperation. “Okay…” he began, exhaling and trying to regain his composure while holding back his release and being heavily stimulated.

“I was getting a-a handjob under the table…i-in a diner similar to this,” he said, making you smile, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “T-The girl was fucking rude and mean, but h-had skilled hands. Very skilled hands.” He gulped, avoiding your eyes while he spoke. “But t-that’s pretty much it. I liked it...Who wouldn't," Miguel said, looking down at his lap and leaving the table speechless.

You didn’t know whether to be flattered, angry at his description of you, or apathetic. A burning desire in your gut to simply drag him to the bathroom of Mama’s diner and see just how good his cock would feel inside of you.

But overall, the geek had surprised you with his answer, this being the only time he had spoken his mind and said his true thoughts since he sat down at this fucking booth.

“Damn, sounds hot,” MJ said, making you turn your attention from your loyal puppy to her. “Wish I had the guts like that rude girl you described. I could never.” She said lowly, bringing a wave of pride over you. Her compliment only fueled your already replete ego.

After the steamy encounter that Miguel explained to the group, it was now MJ’s turn. However, just when she was about to speak, her phone pinged with a message. She glanced down at the glowing screen, her eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Oh my gosh, babe, we have to go. I’m needed at the university.” She quaked, turning her blue eyes upon you. “I’m so sorry to pause the game and leave so early.” She apologized, hastily standing up from the booth alongside her ride, and boyfriend, Peter.

“I can only assume it's for the newspaper, so I’ll let it slide,” you told her as she thanked you, swiftly scurrying past and exiting Mama’s diner. Peter watched with a chuckle, tucking his hands into his red varsity jacket, standing beside you at the table.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing you around, Queen Bee,” he smirked, suddenly taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. You raised an eyebrow, a smile forming upon your glossy lips. Prior to pulling away, he held his soft lips upon your skin for a moment longer and gave your knuckles an affectionate caress with his thumb, meeting your eyes. “Call me anytime.” He whispered, giving you his signature charming smile and wink that made every person on campus faint and die on the spot before leaving behind his girlfriend.

You couldn’t lie; you were a little shocked at Peter’s forwardness.

You’ve noticed his interest in the great Queen Bee—who isn’t—but he had a girlfriend, and unfortunately for him…

You don’t like to share…

Many whiny groans and the sound of loud buzzing brought you from your thoughts as you turned to look at Miguel in the corner to see something even more astonishing than Peter’s previous advances.

Miguel was panting, breathing heavily with his head pressed against the back of the leather booth. His black denims were drawn down, revealing his strained cock and the beautiful red and blue vibrator ring around his base. His eyes rolled uncontrollably behind his glasses, his mouth agape while he rambled in a blend of Spanish and English.

You could only make out the English phrases and words he uttered, which mostly were pleas and begs, all desiring one thing and one thing only.

“Please—ay cono. Let me cum. Please, let me cum."

He implored incessantly, his words so full of need and desperation. You could tell he was slowly losing it; the pleasure was blinding him, and he was only at level 7. You were hoping to try the highest level on him, but maybe another time…

You didn’t want to completely ruin your new puppy…

You leaned towards him, running a finger over his sticky tip, tracing patterns across it. He whined and squirmed in his seat at your touch. “Aww, you want to stop playing already? I wanted to try level 10.” You told him with a fake pout. He frantically shook his head, gasps of air passing his parted lips. “Goodness, no. Please, I-I can’t take any more.” He begged so perfectly that you almost allowed him to.

Well,

Almost…

“I’ll let you cum on one condition,” you proposed, taking his chin in your fingers and turning him to meet your eyes. His eyes fluttered, his hands found your wrist, grabbing on tightly to stabilize himself. His face was flushed, his defined cheeks a rosy red, and his forehead covered with beads of sweat. He looked adorable, practically begging you with his hooded doe eyes to allow him to cum. You smirked, caressing his chin.

“Tell me you are my little puppy and sweeten the deal with a cute little bark.”

You giggled, eliciting a growl that came out more like a groan. “A-Are you serious?” he panted, making your smile only broaden. “Very, and I’ll only raise the level of the vibrator if you don’t,” you said with a grin, loving the look of defeat that covered his face. “Shit,” he cursed, looking away.

“No, eyes on me.”

You sternly said, hastily yanking his chin back towards you. He clenched his jaw, making eye contact with you once more. His amber orbs were full of anger, but his desire to be relieved of the vibrator and finally be granted his satisfying release led him to speak what you wanted.

“I-I’m your… l-little…

Puppy.”

He uttered reluctantly through shaky moans as you waited patiently for the best part of his whole confession. He growled, shaking his head. “I’m not barking.”

You huffed, giving him a stern look. “Do I have to threaten you again about that video? How about I take that little vibrator and give it to the dean instead?” you said with an evil grin. “It has your… essence all over it. Wouldn’t be hard to discover it’s yours.” You cackled. He scowled, gazing up at you through breathy moans. “You are s-such a bitch.”

“Are you sure? You are looking more like a bitch than me right now,” you spat with a laugh, piercing your nails into his chin. “Now be my good little puppy and bark.” You demanded once more, eyes trained on his furious and flushed face.

You watched Miguel resist you as hard as he could. He put up such a fight, remaining silent to disobey for a good while, but just like any wild dog, they break, they snap...

They submit.

So, it didn’t take long before the most satisfying sounds filled your ears.

“Woof…Woof.”

A wave of satisfaction overcame you, akin to taking a refreshing sip of a chocolate milkshake on a hot day. Your glossy lips pulled into a smile, feeling completely overjoyed as you stared at your official new lapdog. “Gosh, I’m going to have so much fun with you,” you promised, caressing his chin affectionately. Miguel’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and his entire face turned red; even his cock frantically throbbed around the pulsating ring.

Like a dog wagging his tail, he seemed to like that idea very much...

You wrapped a hand around his shaft, stroking him at a fast pace while the ring continued to buzz against him. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” you whispered. “Make me proud, puppy,” you told him, kissing along his jawline and earning a loud groan to erupt from his throat. His hips left the seat, meeting your fist with each thrust upwards. “Oh yes. Fuck,” he cried through closed eyes.

The leather booth began to creak loudly at his frenzied movement, his cock sliding in and out of your palm, completely slick with his precum. You could feel how powerful the vibrations were on his sensitive shaft whilst he continued to fuck your fist.

“Shit, shit, I’m cumming,” he groaned, before a loud guttural, deep moan erupted from deep within his chest, his thick, muscular thighs quivering. Veins bulge along the underside of his abdomen upon his climax, and with one final thrust into your hand, he shot his white, creamy load.

And the four-eyed male just kept impressing you over and over again.

His release seemed to be endless. More and more of his seed dripped from his slit, coating your hand and the buzzing toy. The vibrating ring and your fisting only seemed to milk him completely, causing him to whimper and whine uncontrollably, continuing to paint his shaft, your hand, his beige sweater, and the leather seats in his essence.

When he was finished, you took in the huge mess he’d made with a grin. “Look at what you’ve done,” you purred, grabbing a few napkins to clean your hands. Miguel didn’t respond, only babbling softly, his words unintelligible.

You laughed at his thoroughly satisfied expression, finding it utterly adorable how fucked-out he looked. You relieved him of the vibrator, turning it off and removing it from his swollen shaft, the toy completely coated with his sticky fluids.

You smirked, eyeing the white-coated ring; it was so enticing that you couldn't help but bring the toy to your mouth to give it a taste. Like savoring the sweetness of honey on a wand, you ran your tongue along the vobrator, humming in ecstasy.

Your eyes fluttered at the taste. His seed was different—something you couldn't quite put into words, but an essence you'd definitely want more of in the future, something you had to taste straight from the source.

After sucking the ring clean, you placed it into your bag and slid closer to Miguel. His eyes were still closed, his chest heaving up and down while his body spasmed—small tremors spreading through his massive being.

You turned his face towards you, a finger resting under his chin. His eyes fluttered open to meet your satisfied gaze. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself, puppy,” you whispered, an airy chuckle passing his lips at your words. “I had no choice…

So I might as well enjoy it,”

He muttered breathlessly, his response made you even prouder. Your little puppy was understanding the game—the fun. You couldn’t help but love the dork even more.

You leaned closer to him, your nose brushing against his.

“Finally… you are starting to get it,” you uttered, pressing a rough and searing kiss to his mouth. Miguel, completely exhausted and shocked, instantly lost the fight, giving you control.

You devoured his mouth hungrily, his plush lips feeling just right and tasting even better as your tongue entered his parted lips. He groaned, kissing you back, but not enough to dominate nor challenge you, which you adored so much.

You kissed him until you were satisfied, sucking his lips until they were pink and swollen, and tasting his mouth with your tongue. You then pulled away from his enticing lips, both of you panting heavily. You looked him over with a smirk, patting his head and running your manicured fingers through his coffee-brown hair, and to your satisfaction, he didn’t pull away—either from weariness or pure enjoyment, it seemed your puppy had accepted his role.

But you couldn’t be so sure…

You smiled, sliding out of the booth and picking up your $500 Prada bag from the seat. His amber eyes were full of confusion as he looked you over. You met your adorable lapdog’s gaze, standing before him in your lavish clothes—a white crop top, pink Gucci jacket, skirt, and heels.

You gave him a sly grin, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Clean yourself up and have my homework done by 10.

I want you at my sorority house tonight,”

You smirked, watching his tanned cheeks turn a deep red. Your eyes took him in one last time, taking in his little mess, his flustered and stunned expression, softened cock, massive body, and those dorky glasses.

All of that and so much more was yours now.

All yours…

“See you then,” you giggled, blowing him a kiss, and turning on your pink high heels, leaving the dork flabbergasted.

You swung open the door of Mama’s diner, stepping out onto the sidewalk and into the bustling streets of Nueva York. You put on your pink heart-shaped shades, the evening sun beaming upon your face, as an unshakeable smile adorned your glossy lips.

You were excited, no, delighted.

You had discovered something better than a measly assistant that you had desired before.

You had a permanent peasant, a puppy who was none other than the outcast of your college—the student at the bottom of the student hierarchy and hated by all was officially yours.

And you couldn’t wait to have so much more fun with your little bitch boy, Miguel O’Hara.

Your new lapdog...

A/N: I enjoyed writing this soo much!! 😆

I hope u guys enjoyed it as well, I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 but...idk 🤔😏

But hope u guys liked!! 💗💗

P.S: Part 3 of 'A Fate Worse Than Death' would be up next week, my apologies, I just had to write this one. 😌

<3 Taglist:

~@oscarissac2099

~@powerful-niya

(Let me know in the comments if you'll like to become a part of the taglist! ❤️)

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel atsv smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #nerd miguel #sub miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader

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mangocustard16 · 1 year ago

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BOYFRIEND DOKYEOM WHO...

pairing: idol!dokyeom x reader genre: fluff, established relationship, comfort warnings: skinship :) wc: 252 a/n: this is very self indulgent sorry not sorry!

bf! dokyeom who gives you a new nickname every three business days

bf! dokyeom who loves to give you back hugs, like picking you up and swirling you around type back hugs

bf! dokyeom who makes you laugh till you have tears in your eyes

bf! dokyeom who was way too insistent on buying the damn sogo

bf! dokyeom who asks you questions like, "Babe will you still love me if I were a pigeon? Would you cage me if I were a pigeon? But if I were a pigeon I wouldn't like being caged up. Do you even love me?"

bf! dokyeom who has like a million heart emojis next to your name in his contacts

bf! dokyeom who'd be the type to send you a million voicemails when on tour (bonus: all his voicemails end with kissy noises)

bf! dokyeom who doesn't do sit-down type dates, you guys are either jamming in the karaoke or running along the han river

bf! dokyeom who fishes for compliments because it really makes his day

bf! dokyeom who can lift the 30 pound rice packet with one hand but cannot remove the bug from the room for the love of god

bf! dokyeom who whispers "i love you" every night just before he falls asleep

bf! dokyeom who loves to use the lamest pickup lines while picking you up for every date

bf! dokyeom who would gladly drive to mcdonald's at 2 am because you said you wanted it

@kflixnet @k-films@k-labels

taglist-˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅: @bangchansbae @haecien @aaniag @aaasia111 @weird-bookworm @gigification @bewoyewo if you want to be added just send me an ask ♡⸝⸝

pls reblog if you liked !!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

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Watchers Anonymous

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, skinny!Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Thor, Loki, Curtis Everett, Jake Jensen, Cole Turner, Captain Syverson, (so far)

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for each of the above. This is our introduction to the group.

Summary: men with illicit infatuations come together to share and plot their perfect fantasies.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Introduction

"Do you really think we need snacks?" Jake asks as he unwraps the pan of rice crispy squares with sprinkles and chocolate drizzle. "I didn't think so but my aunt gave them to me," Peter shrugs. "I don't know."

"You're aunt?" Jake scoffs. He might be a loser but he's no mama's boy.

"Yeah, I mean, I usually go to bingo with her on Wednesdays but then this came up and... I had to make an excuse. I told her we were campaigning," he shrugs. "So she said, oh I'll make you boys some snacks..."

"Right," Jensen crosses his arms, reassured that he's not the lamest one in the pack. Not so far.

"When's that buddy of yours showing up?"

"Curtis? Oh, he said he wasn't sure," Jake shrugs. He hopes he has a friendly face there but he understands if it doesn't pan out. They all have places they'd rather be.

"Kinda nervous, not gonna lie," Peter confesses. It was his idea that they all meet up but now he's kind of regretting it. Strangers on the internet, on discord of all places, aren't necessarily the trustworthy type. He figures he's on there though and he's not that bad.

"Well, you seem chill," Jake offers. "So..."

"Thanks, I guess," Peter huffs.

There's a scuff at the door. A skinny blond stands in the doorway, looking down the hall behind him. He smooths his hair with his sweaty hands, slightly trembling. "Buck," he calls out in a voice deeper than one would guess by his appearance. "Down here." "Yeah, yeah," another replies behind the tramp of thick treads. "Looking for a john in this place. Shouldn't have had coffee."

"Oh, uh, Steve?" Peter greets uncertainly, "if I have that right?"

"That's me, yeah." He clears his throat and faces them. His nose is too big for his face, like a beak. The rest of him is tiny. He makes Peter feel big. Just like his special one... they'll get to that in a minute.

His friend catches up to him. Stood right behind him, he looks massive. Peter knows him too. Virtually at least.

"And Bucky?" Peter adds. The other guy grunts and nods.

"This all?" Steve looks around at the mostly empty room.

"There's food?" Bucky wonders as he combs through his long hair. "Wasn't aware this was a catered event."

"Just snacks," Peter insists. He doesn't need any more hazing. Next time, he'll leave May's baking at home.

Steve wrings his hands before tucking them into his pockets. He chews his cheeks as Bucky heads for the snacks and greets Jake. There's more voices coming.

"Brother, don't be so grim," the large blond enters buoyantly, "it's about time you made some friends."

"I have friends," a slither returns dully.

"Ah, it is Peter!" Thor booms, not needing any introduction, though Peter wonders how he recognises him. "And let me guess, Jake with the glasses. Bucky has the shaggy hair like a dog, and Steve is slighter in frame."

"How..." Jake mutters.

"It is a gift of mine," he proclaims, "I'm Thor in case you couldn't guess. Oh and this," he pulls the other man forward and slings his arm over his lithe shoulders. "Is my brother, Loki."

Peter considers the uninvited sibling. Not as tall as his brother, or thick, and with sleek black hair and a long nose. They don't look related at all.

"I didn't know we were bringing plus ones," Bucky chews on a tart.

"Me either," Jake says.

"Oh, I do hope you don't mind. I wanted to invite him to the chat prior but... he is not often on the phone."

"It's fine," Peter assures, "I guess."

Bucky grumbles with less optimism and Jake sways. It's not exactly a gaming group or wholesome in any manner. Outsiders aren't safe.

"Relax, he has a special one," Thor girds. "Haven't you, brother?"

"I told you to mind your business," Loki retorts and gets only laughter in return.

"Jensen," a man enters without hesitation and marches to aforementioned man.

"Curt," Jake greets him with a nod, "you made it."

"Not thanks to... you!" He spots Thor and squares his shoulder. "You know, that truck is too big for your skillset."

"Ah, yes, it is only a ding, we will exchange info after," Thor rubs his neck with a guilty smile.

"Who are we missing?" Steve asks.

"Sy?" Jake suggests. "Don't think anyone else could make it."

"I'm here!" A sudden scramble through the door ends in a heap on the floor. The group of men turn to face the newcomer. "Urgh, ow." The man lays on his back after his slip. "I'm okay!"

He sits up and rubs the back of his head. Bucky tuts, "smooth."

"I'm--" the man pushes himself to his feet, "Cole. Ugh, I had to drive all the way here-- well, I know we all did, but, just not used to city roads."

"Cole," Peter is the first to approach, it's strange being the one doing most of the leading. Especially among this bunch. "Hey, nice to meet you. Peter."

He goes around the room and introduces everyone. Cole repeats each name anxiously. A sole squeaks through the door and a throat clears. A burly man with a baseball cap and scuffy bear wears a canvas jacket in grey camo.

"Sy," he intones as he enters. "Oh, are those brownies?"

"Right, that's everyone," Jake declares. "So, uh... what now?"

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rcmclachlan · 6 months ago

Note

okay, so if you’re not writing the aquarium scene in the 118/217 scheming fix-it (god i love this) can you at least share what mishap and or shenanigan gets them banned from the aquarium?? (since you mentioned it in the tags i assume you picked one!)

The aquarium is Christopher's idea, because getting Buck and Tommy back together is the one thing he and Eddie can talk about without it devolving into shouting or week-long silences that make Eddie want to put his fist through his living room wall.

So if plotting to interfere in the open bear trap that is his idiot friends' breakup gets him an hour of uninterrupted screen time with Chris three times a week? He'll meddle in a way that would make even his abuela say, "cariño, that's a little much." He'll change his legal middle name to el metiche.

"Buck used to take me to see the otters when I was younger; they're his favorite. But the exhibit has been closed for a year because they've been redoing it," Chris says, then texts him a link to the aquarium website. "The big reopening is next week. If someone asked Buck to take Jee-Yun, he wouldn't be suspicious."

"Chris, you're a genius," Eddie says, a little awed. His entire body aches to reach through the laptop screen and across state lines to pull his kid into a hug, but all he can do is sit on his hands and hope his face shows all the love he feels.

A small, but genuine grin unfurls on Chris's face. "That's not news, dad."

Eddie decides to take the aquarium idea to what Chimney keeps calling the weekly 118-217 Shadow Summit to see if the rest of the group thinks it holds water—no pun intended—and is extremely offended when Dana gives him a slow blink and says, "That's actually not bad. Who came up with it?"

"Is it that hard to believe it was my idea?"

"Very."

Dana presses the rim of her wine glass to the sly, crimson curve of her mouth. With her victory rolls, winged eyeliner, and tattoos, she looks like the winner of a car show pinup contest. She also looks like an evil queen out of an old school Disney movie. At least five people in their general vicinity look like they'd thank her if she force-fed them a poisoned apple or turned into a giant dragon.

Eddie reaches into the bowl of popcorn by his elbow and throws a handful of it at her. She just takes a sip of her wine and serenely lets the kernels bounce off her.

"Knock it off before I put you both in a time out." Lucy drains the dregs of her beer and says to Chimney, "Having Buckley take your kid is the perfect excuse—she's, what, two? Three?"

"Five," Chim says with the heartache of a man whose baby is almost old enough to rent a car. "As long as we don't tell my wife that Jee's playing the part of the cutest MacGuffin ever in this little plot, we should be good. But how do we get Tommy there?"

"Short of planting a bomb in the penguin tank, I can't think of a reason Mr. Nature Boy himself would ever voluntarily go." Hen roots around in the popcorn bowl for the kernels with the most butter. "Actually, he might be thrilled if we did that. I don't think he likes birds very much."

Dana lifts a brow. "I smell a story."

"Does it smell like KFC?" Chim pops a pretzel in his mouth and chews loudly, grinning. "Once we've adjourned the cabal for the evening, remind me to tell you about Maurice."

Eddie doesn't know Nico very well—he can't get a read on the guy to save his life—but the smug smirk he's sporting looks entirely out of place. Nico takes the last mozzarella stick off the platter they'd ordered to share and puts it between his teeth like a cigar. He looks like the world's lamest oil baron.

Eddie looks at Dana in askance. Wordlessly, she plucks a piece of popcorn out of her hair and throws it at him. It nails him right between the eyes.

"Let me handle Kinard," Nico says. "I'll get him there, no problem."

To his credit, Nico does get Tommy to the aquarium the day of the sea otter exhibit grand reopening. And thanks to Chimney planting Chris's idea in Buck's head at the start of their next shift, Buck does take Jee-Yun.

Unfortunately, their paths never cross, because while the penguin habitat doesn't explode, the sea jelly gallery does, completely flooding the first floor. When the aquarium is forced to evacuate everyone, Buck and Jee-Yun end up at the Chili's down the street, while Tommy ends up riding in an ambulance with an old woman who gets stung by a box jellyfish.

"I don't understand how this happened!" Lucy shouts, keeping her fingers on the ankle pulse of a man in the middle of an allergic reaction to a lilliputian jelly sting as Hen and Chim pump him full of epinephrine and then start administering compressions.

Eddie would help, but he's carrying three kids—two in his arms, one on his back—through shin-deep water to safety while attempting to dodge all the bluebottles floating on the surface. Dana glides past him to get the next group of kids waiting to be rescued, not a hair out of place. She looks like a fucking mermaid. He's gonna trip her the next time they pass each other.

Annoyed, Lucy casts around and then asks, "Has anyone seen Nico?"

Just in time for the man himself to sedately walk through the pandemonium, two bewildered penguins tucked under his arms like purses. He smiles brightly. "Hey, did Kinard pass through here, by any chance? Phase two of my plan is ready to go."

Eddie stares at him. "What was phase one?"

He never does find out what exactly phase one entailed, but it's enough to get them permanently banned from the aquarium for life.

"If you ask me, the punishment so does not fit the crime," Nico says, digging an elbow into Eddie's side as he jostles for room in the back of Athena's squad car.

Eddie says nothing. He's too busy mentally composing the short-answer portion of his application for the El Paso Fire Department, although, in the end, it doesn't matter. He completely forgets everything he plans on writing when Athena slides in, glances in the rearview mirror, and shouts, "Those better not be penguins in my back seat, Edmundo Diaz!"

He and Chris spend two hours talking about it during their next call, so Eddie calls it a win.

#lafd shenanigans #the next 118-217 shadow summit begins with everyone doing a walk of shame into the bar #(except nico‚ who practically skips inside‚ followed by two penguins)#bucktommy #rc's 911 fics #rc's harbor ocs

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 10 months ago

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Soup or Salad

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 6.6k

Notes: See I TOLD YOU GUYS I was still writing

Edmundo Díaz is literally the stupidest, lamest, most annoying man you’ve ever met in your life, and that’s saying something because you know Evan Buckley.

Right now Eddie’s made it his life’s mission to not be touching you. He stands way too close in the kitchen, he sits too close at the table and he always takes the seat on the couch next to you. He’s even resorted to holding his finger right above your arm and making little faces as he says “I’m not touching you” and you scream for Bobby to make him stop.

Yeah, life at the firehouse is fun.

Today’s prank consisted of leaving a toy snake in your locker. The high-pitched scream and sound of Buck and Eddie’s laughter from upstairs got all three of you called into Bobby’s office and those two got their asses chewed out while you sniffled in the chair next to them.

Which- okay kinda made Eddie feel bad. He didn’t want you to cry, he just wanted to scare you a little.

“Hey so-” he stops you outside Cap’s office, he holds your arm, his rough fingertips so different from your soft skin.

“I know he made us apologize and all, but I really do want you to know- without the pressure of him being here, I really am sorry Y/N”

He’s not even really sure why he wants you to know he’s sorry, but he just does. You give him a polite thank you and walk away, still wiping at your eyes.

That’s the third time he’s felt his heart flutter at the sight of you. A feeling he ties down, chains up, and rams as far down into the teeniest tiniest corner of his heart as he can.

You do the exact same thing when your heart flutters when you catch him working out with Buck later. The way his body moves as he kicks the bag… it’s something else that’s for sure.

“I know you’re all ready to get some sleep, but it’s nice you’re all here anyway,” Bobby says as he serves up the plates of spaghetti. You purposely pass the plate to Hen instead of Eddie and he rolls his eyes and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Listen, since you’re all here. Athena wants to have a nice dinner this weekend with everyone. She’s got a reservation at LaRue’s for all of us, including a plus one for you and Hen” he says as hands Chimney his plate.

“What about us?” Buck huffs and Bobby chuckles

“You three are as single as they come”

“Especially Eddie,” you say as Bobby hands you your plate

“Yeah, sure. When was the last time you got laid, Princess?” He throws a piece of garlic bread at you and you just barely catch it.

“I don’t know, ask your mom” You wink at him and he kicks you under the table and you squeak before kicking him back.

“I got laid last week,” Buck says nonchalantly, shoveling his spaghetti into his mouth.

“Hold up what?!” Hen chokes on her apple juice and you turn to him, shaking his shoulders as Eddie pats her back, his mouth wide open

“Spill!! Now”

“Can you hurry the fuck up?!” Eddie groans at you as you drag your feet back to the truck.

A call had come in right around 4am, and you’d been curled up on the couch with a soft blanket you didn’t remember putting on but very much so welcomed. Everyone was up and ready to go in five minutes flat and they were off.

Usually, everyone made sure you and Eddie were on opposite ends of the truck but it was too damn early to fuss with it and you ended up right next to him. It’s quieter than usual too, probably because it’s literally 4am and it’s slowly putting you to sleep. Your head falls over onto Eddie’s shoulder and he freezes for a second, looking over at you.

“Glad I could make a good pillow” He mumbles before turning his head to look out the window. He doesn’t exactly wake you up though, and he slouches down a little so your neck isn’t at a weird angle.

The truck comes to a stop and everyone hops out, except you and Eddie.

“Dude come on! This is-“ Buck comes back in, Eddie’s head is on yours with his hand in your lap and you’re cuddled into his side. Buck grins widely and pulls out his phone.

“Oh I can’t wait to print this and plaster it all over the station”

He wakes you both up with an annoying little giggle and gently pokes at you two so you purposely wake up slowly and in each other's arms

Which is how he ends up on the ground later while you and Eddie beat him up.

“Do you always have to leave your clothes all over the place when you shower??” Eddie rolls his eyes at you

You called dibs on the showers first when you got back to the station because the men’s showers had the best water pressure and that’s important okay.

“I don’t know, ask your dad” You flick him off as you climb into the truck and plop down into the seat across from him. Everyone is already in, Buck is literally leaning on Hen completely asleep and she’s fading just as fast.

“Do you ever shut up” He sighs as he pulls his knee to his chest and you pull off your gloves just to throw them at him.

“Do you ever stop whining?”

“Isn’t it a bit early for this?” Chim mumbles to Bobby who just shakes his head as he starts driving

“Do you ever stop leaving your shit all over the floor?” He retorts, throwing your gloves back at you and you snatch them out of the air

“You tripped over my shoe once!”

“Three times actually. But who’s counting!”

“Apparently you are, loser.”

“That’s the best you’ve got? Loser?” Eddie laughs at you cruelly

“And you’ve got something better at 4am?!” You scoff and he grins widely

“Oh, I’ve got plenty! Bitch? Useless? Human mattress?”

Buck snorts and your head whips over to him as you slap his leg “Hey!”

“I’m sorry, the human mattress was funny. Okay okay I’m going back to sleep I’m sorry please continue”

Eddie smiles smugly at you and your hands curl into fists. “You can call me whatever the fuck you want. You know? Maybe this is why your last girlfriend left you. Because you don’t know how to fucking respect women. Oh no, no it was the cheating, wasn’t it? She found someone with a better dick who actually knew how to use it!”

“Oh shit” Chimney whispers from the front seat and Bobby nearly jumps from the truck just to get away from you two.

“You little fucking-“ Eddie doesn’t even finish his sentence before Bobby is pulling over.

“Are we home?” Buck mumbles sleepily looking around

“Up front Diaz. Now”

Bobby’s using his scary Captain voice and you both know you’re gonna get a talking to when you get back. Eddie throws his seatbelt off and slams the door open, switching seats with Chimney.

As soon as Bobby pulls into the station Eddie is out of the truck and throwing his stuff into a pile in front of his shelf.

“Eddie you can’t just-“ Bobby sighs as he goes storming into the back room and slamming the door shut. He turns to look over at you, and you walk quietly over to Eddie’s shelf and start to hang his stuff up neatly.

“You two are constantly at each other’s throats,” He says, putting his hat up “This needs to stop or else I’m going to have to change one of your shifts. And I love you Y/N and the way you work with us but you were hired last”

“I know, I know. He just. He’s so annoying! And he’s rude and pushy and- and-“

“Super hot” Buck walks past, to his shelf and you throw your hands in the air

“Exactly!- wait- fuck”

Everyone stops and you shake your head, waving your hands wildly “No. No, I did not fucking mean to agree with that absolutely heck no-“

“Oh my god, you like him” Chimney scoffs “And he likes you?!”

Your mouth drops open, it’s moving but no words are coming out as you stare at him.

“There- no- no fucking no-“ You splutter and Hen comes over now, putting her hands on your shoulders

“It’s okay honey. We all know how you feel about each other”

“A-are you shitting me?!! I’d rather jump in a boiling lake of lava than sleep with Eddie!!”

“I mean… no one said anything about sleeping with him” Bobby mumbles and Buck who’s been suspiciously quiet snorts and pushes Bobby’s shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to be encouraging this!” You snap, stomping your foot “You guys freaking suck!” You storm away to the supply room to refill the truck with all fucking four of them singing “Eddie and Y/N sitting in a tree” behind you

They leave you both alone for an hour at least as you angrily refill the truck, occasionally kicking the large tires and grumbling to yourself about how stupid they all are

You do not like Eddie, and he’s definitely not super hot. He’s stupid, and pigheaded, and annoying. He’s tall, and smelly and- okay well that’s not true he actually smells really good. And well now that you’re thinking about it it’s not very nice to you know say he’s not at least cute. Because, yeah sure, you guess by, societal standards he may be slightly a teeny tiny bit attractive…

“Fuck. No” You shake your head, pissed off. There’s absolutely no way you’re into that asshole or that he’s into you. This is the man who ruined your last four dates! He always had some stupid reason as to why you couldn’t make it, he even gave your last date the wrong directions to the firehouse to pick you up!

No. No there’s no way you two could ever be interested in each other

Eddie comes over to the truck and swings the door open before stepping inside. You look at the open door and sigh, okay, yeah it was a pretty low blow.

You pull yourself up into the truck as Eddie sits down in his seat, going over his checklist.

“Uh… hey” you stuff your hands in your back pockets

“Hey”

He doesn’t look up, barely even acknowledging you at all. He just keeps looking at his stupid list.

“Can- um. Can we talk?”

“Go ahead” He shrugs and you take the clipboard from his hands

“I’m being serious Eddie!”

He yanks it back from you, standing up. He towers over you, especially in this tiny ass space.

“Don’t touch my shit”

“It’s a clipboard!” You slam it against his chest and he stumbles back a little

“It’s my clipboard so don’t fucking touch it!”

“You know what- fuck this! I’m here trying to apologize to your bitchass and you can’t-“

“You’re what?” He stops arguing and looks at you, blinking slowly

“I’m trying to apologize” You draw the words out and he holds the clipboard in both hands in front of him, looking down

“Why?”

You flinch a little because his tone is different now. It’s deeper, smoother maybe? There’s just this weird bass to it you’ve never really noticed before

“Uh-“ you start, looking down at your hands “Well. It’s just-“ you fold them in front of you and take a deep breath before looking him in the eye.

“The comment I made? About the whole girlfriend thing? That was low. I know how much that hurt you, the breakup- and like. That was so mean and-“

“I accept your apology,” He says quietly, a little smile on his face “I know how hard this is for you”

You roll your eyes and push at his chest “Anddd you ruined it” he laughs and holds onto your hand and you gulp, blushing a little. Your fingers flex in his hand, feeling the hard chest underneath them and he looks at you, tightening the hold on your hand.

“Do you have a ride to dinner? With the team? I uh- I know your cars in the shop. I’d like to offer a ride as an apology”

This is the first time in your life Eddie Diaz has ever made you swoon. He bends down a little closer to your height, his cologne swirling in the closed air around you is starting to make you kinda dizzy.

Dizzy??? Over Edmundo “The biggest fucking asshole” Diaz

“I guess I accept your apology too…” you mumble, suddenly realizing just how close you’re both standing. You take a little step back, pulling your hand away.

“Thanks. Six thirty work for you?” You clear your throat and go to leave the truck now, is it hot in here?? Why is it so freaking hot the AC is always blasting

“Six thirty is fine,” He says as you hop out and turn back to him

“Okay… uh- see ya??” You awkwardly salute him with two fingers and cringe inwardly as he snorts and does it back

LaRue is a fancy-ass restaurant which is how you know Bobby and Athena definitely have something to announce and you’re hoping it’s good, this is more of a celebratory kind of place so you’re sure it is.

That just really leaves you with figuring out what to wear.

You take your time in the shower, lathering yourself with your best soaps and making sure to avoid getting your hair wet. Once you’re out you put on your Spotify and start getting ready, laying out all your tools on the counter and lining up your hair products.

You’re just finishing straightening your hair and dramatically singing “Man! I feel like a woman!” (Buck's favorite song) when your doorbell rings. You click your phone to see it’s only 5:30, so it can’t be Eddie??

“What the-“ You unplug your straightener and bring it with you, a hot, blunt, instrument!! Perfect! And pad out to the front door, trying not to smudge your toenails.

“Who is it?” You call through the door, raising your straightener

“It’s me, Y/N” Eddie calls through the door and you blink blankly at the door

“Why are you here??” You swing the door open and Eddie looks at your straightener, and then at you, standing in a silky red robe. His eyes roll over your figure as he bites his up, he’s shamelessly checking you out and you feel your body flush with a weird, needy, kind of heat.

“Hello? Earth to Señor Pervert? You’re early. Like really early” You wave the straightener in front of his face and he looks back up at your face.

“My power went out, nothin I can really do about it. So I didn’t think you’d mind if I got ready here. Didn’t you get my text?”

Your mind flashes back to the little “ting!” noise you cursed out in your shower for interrupting “Let’s hear it for the boy”

“Ohhh….. that- that was you…” you say and Eddie nods along with you as you step aside and let him in

“Well I’m kind of in the middle of getting ready” you gesture to yourself as you lead him to the bathroom “But if you don’t mind sharing the space, I'm pretty sure I’ve got all the products, and tools you’ll need”

“I brought some stuff… but yeah thanks” He follows you, watching the way your hips sway as you enter the bathroom. He smirks at your layout and you scoot some of it over to make room for him.

“Cute” He nods to your mostly pink setup up and you flick his arm before plugging in your curler.

“You’re such a hoe” You roll your eyes as it heats up and turn your music back on. He snickers and sets out his stuff before turning on his razor.

“I swear to god you better clean that up when you’re done” You point with your wand before starting to curl.

“I’m a damn gentleman, of course, I’m going to clean up” He glares, before going back to concentrating on his face and you stick your tongue out.

Things are starting to feel weirdly domestic, like incredibly domestic. You’re both humming along to the music, he curls the back of your hair that you can’t reach (he’d done it for his cousins a billion times) and you help make sure his sideburns are even.

He grabs your mousse and sprays a little in his hand and you giggle as he runs it through his hair.

“Oh shut. up.” He gives you a look and you stop putting on your eyeshadow, looking up from the mirror in your hand

“It’s funny!!“ you whine and he turns to you, his hair perfectly in place. He’s so close to you, his face inches from yours.

“There is absolutely nothing funny about using-“

One little piece of hair falls against his forehead, and you both look at it. You roll your eyes and go to push it back, your fingers card slowly through his hair and he leans into your touch, his eyelashes fluttering a little as he sighs quietly.

“Mousse” he finishes his sentence, staring into your eyes and it’s like the air has been sucked right out of your lungs.

When did Eddie Diaz become this… gorgeous

“You’re blushing” He raises an eyebrow and you blink stupidly at him

“H-huh?”

“I said” He whispers, you can feel his breath fanning across your face he’s so close “You’re blushing”

“Of course I am” Your voice is so quiet, it shakes a little as you speak “I’m wearing blush” you explain.

“Nuh huh” He taps the closed container on your counter “Didn’t put it on yet, haven’t even put on any highlighter”

“You know a lot about makeup”

“I have all female family members”

“Oh”

His eyes flick down at your lips, and then back at your pretty doe eyes like he’s asking something, something that’s really… really starting to freak you out.

When the fuck did you develop a crush on this testosterone tower

Your phone starts ringing and the spell is broken, you jump back and Eddie stands tall again, reaching over to turn off your alarm. His gaze lingers on it for a moment before turning back to you

“Apparently you’re supposed to be putting on your dress right about now”

“Well since you’re here I guess I have a little extra time” You shrug and snatch your mirror from the counter and go back to your makeup. He tosses his stuff back in his bag and leans against the doorway

“I’m gonna change then? If that’s cool with you”

“Yeah no that’s- so cool. Way cool, ultra cool” You stumble over your words and Eddie laughs, letting his head fall back as he leaves the bathroom and shuts the door.

What the hell is going on?! If it wasn’t so perfect you’d pull at your hair and like bash your head into the mirror you don’t know it’s just weird okay. It’s just weird to be feeling these super weird things okay, especially the ache between your thighs. That you’re painfully ignoring.

After putting on the finishing touches and setting your makeup you turn to the bag hanging from your bathroom door and unzip it. You’d gotten the floor-length champagne-colored dress for your cousin's wedding, and it was definitely fancy enough to wear here. The dress has two high slits going up to the top of your hips and you’re actually incredibly grateful this place has tablecloths. You fix the spaghetti straps and adjust the top to cover up the tape you’d used instead of wearing a bra. With everything in position, you spray your perfume and crack open the door.

“Hey, can I come out? I need my shoes”

“Yeah, I need help with my tie anyway if you can” He calls out and you shut off the lights, leaving the bathroom.

Neither of you is prepared to see each other and that’s very apparent by the way you both freeze up, he’s never seen you look so… breathtaking. His eyes widen as he takes your dress in, those high slits making the front of his pants tighten. Which just confirms everything he’d been thinking all afternoon since you’d apologized in the truck

When the fuck did he develop a crush on the missing link

“You-“ His voice falters a little “You look beautiful”

You look down at your dress for a second and then back toward the bathroom “Uh- um. T-thanks? Thank you…. You um… you clean up pretty well too” You look at him again, his cheeks are as pink as your dress. You tiptoe over to your bed and grab your shoes, waving them.

“Im gonna- I'm gonna put these on and like I can help with your tie in a second”

“Let me help?” He rushes toward you, pushing you back gently onto the bed. He takes your shoes from you and gets on one knee, taking your leg in his hands. His hands run down your smooth calf and around your ankle before slipping your shoe onto your foot and tying it back up your leg in a pretty little bow. He marvels at the way your skin sparkles in the light of the sun coming in through your windows courtesy of the shimmering oil you’d put on.

“Eddie I- I can do it my-“

You feel his lips on your other leg, kissing softly, slowly up your leg as he slips your shoe on, your breath hitches in your throat as he looks up at you, his hands creeping further up your leg and over your bare thigh.

“What are you doing?” You bite your lip and he kisses your knee before placing his chin on it

“Dunno, just couldn’t help myself” He admits, looking up at you like a lost puppy. You can feel your resolve melting as you lean forward and smooth his hair back.

“You needed help with your tie?”

You scoot forward off the bed and he moves back a bit, as you stand up. His hands go to your hips, holding you in front of him as he’s on his knees.

“This feels weird,” you tell him and his grip loosens

“Shit. Shit I’m sorry that was so forward I didn’t mean-“ He’s getting up and you push his shoulders back down because you like him on his knees

“Wait no! That’s not what I meant!!” You put his hands back on your hips and tilt his chin up

“Okay well, it’s sort of what I meant… I just- you’re really freaking hot”

Eddie chuckles and brings you forward by your waist, resting his head on your torso

“Yeah so are you. Who knew you’d be so pretty under all the death stares and bitchy comments”

“Who knew you’d be so sexy under all the bad attitudes and general stupidity” You grin widely and allow him to stand up now, he gives you a look and puts his tie in your hand

“Oh teehee you’re so funny” He rolls his eyes and you giggle, putting the tie around his neck

“You started it”

“Mhm, and I bet you wanna end it huh?” He pulls you against him as you finish tying it and setting it straight.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty” He murmurs in your ear as you clasp your hands behind his neck and he leans forward, nuzzling his nose in your neck and toying with your necklace.

“You really thi-“ Your sentence is cut off by your phone ringing again, you groan and try to let go of Eddie but he just holds your waist tighter grabs your phone for you, and holds it up to your ear.

“Hey Buck what’s up?”

Your hand takes the phone and he wraps his arms back around you properly. Eddie is clingy apparently. Which doesn’t surprise you with his stupid “I’m not touching you” game

“Uhhh yeah, I'm sure it’s fine. Okay, we’ll see you soon!” You hang up and Eddie takes the phone from you and slides it into his pocket

“What does he want?” You feel him nibbling your ear and you giggle, pulling him closer for once

“He needs a ride, solely because he’s lazy and doesn’t feel like driving tonight. He said it’s better for the environment.”

“He just wants me to be the designated driver” He rolls his eyes, finally pulling away. His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, he hasn’t kissed you yet and it’s driving you slightly crazy.

“I guess we have to go get him” He sighs, and takes your hand, pulling you with him out of your bedroom. The click of your heels as you follow behind is oddly erotic to him, he helps you put on your little coat and hands you your purse before opening the door for you.

“Ladies first,” He says and you walk past him, floating on a cloud of your perfume.

“Really? Because last time you said it was Lizard people first” You snicker as he opens the truck door for you and helps you in, you cross one leg over the other as he gets in on his side and goes to buckle up. His eyes are practically glued to your thighs and you smirk leaning against the center console with your chin in your hand.

“See somethin' ya like?”

Apparently yes, because the next thing you know his lips are pressed to yours. He kisses you slowly, you look so goddamn adorable when you’re blushing like this. He deepens the kiss a little, his tongue licking at your lower lip as he draws you closer to him, like he wants you in his lap and admittedly that seems like a very… very nice place to be

He pulls away and chuckles when you chase him, pecking his lips again

“Do we really have to go tonight?” You mumble and he boops your nose

“Yeah kinda. You want everyone to know we stayed at your place? What would they think of us?”

You look at him, crinkling your nose “Yeah I guess… and there’s no way we’re telling anyone about this right?”

“Oh fuck no. They’d never let us live it down.” He pulls out of the driveway and holds his hand out to you

“Which admittedly brings us to that very awkward “what are we?” Thing”

You take his hand and hold it in your lap, tracing the back of it and drawing little shapes

“Well- and just listen. Would it be so much of a leap… to be like I don’t know…boyfriend girlfriend? It’s not like we don’t know each other… disgustingly well already”

“24-hour shifts man” Eddie sighs and you snicker, leaning your head against his shoulder

“Literally. Like that one time, I walked in on you taking a colossal-“

“If you finish that sentence I swear to god I will hit the ejection seat button”

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you really had one though like”

“Do you want to find out?”

You roll your eyes but keep quiet anyway and he chuckles, holding your hand tighter.

“So we’re just gonna jump to being together huh? Not even gonna take me to dinner first?”

You snort and lay your head against the headrest, looking over at him

“You want me to take you on a date Princess?” You tease and he raises his eyebrow at you for a moment before looking back at the road

“Damn right, I do. Want the whole enchilada baby girl. Including drinks at your place afterward”

“So your tipsy ass will have to sleep over?” You laugh and he grins

“Hell yeah! Better put me in one of your T-shirts too”

“Fucking bet my man, I will woo your ass” You poke his arm as he pulls up to Buck's place and texts him to come down

“Saturday?”

“Saturday” you agree with a wink.

Before Buck comes down to the car Eddie hooks his finger under your chin, pulling you in to kiss you again. He smiles a little, pecking your lips softly again when you giggle.

“I can’t wait… but I hope you know teasing you is about to be a whole lot different” He makes his point as he trails his fingertips over your shoulder and down your arm sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean” You whisper against his lips and he smirks, moving his hand to your exposed thigh now, squeezing gently.

“Oh you’re gonna find out tonight sweetheart”

He pulls away just in time for Buck to come out, he gives you two a weird look, you’re in the front seat and not killing each other.

“Hey thanks for getting me,” Buck says as he closes the door and buckles in behind you.

“You owe me”

“Why doesn’t she owe you!” Buck points at you childishly and Eddie smirks

“I don’t take payment from sewer rats. She’s suffering enough”

Your mouth drops open and you punch his arm “Sewer rat?! I look like a damn goddess right now!”

“Goddess of sewer rats maybe” he mumbles and you reach over and shut the truck off and throw the key at his feet so he’d have to get out to reach it.

“Ahhh…There’s my best friends” Buck laughs as Eddie throws his door open, grumbling and you two go back to normal.

Once you get to the restaurant, Buck opens the door for you and helps you out, letting out a low whistle.

“Jesus Y/N, you tryin’ to make me fall in love?” He laughs as you do a little spin for him and toss your hair over your shoulder

“What this old thing?” You joke as he holds out his arm, Eddie gives you a look as you take it and you feel goosebumps trail up your arms at the way his eyes darken possessively. You swear to god you’re gonna jump that man before the night is over.

The man at the front leads you three over to the table, and you seem to be the last ones to arrive. You wave at them and do another cute little spin as they ooh and aww at you.

“Yassss Queen!” Chimney says, high-fiving you while Eddie pulls your chair out (Athena does not miss that) and you sit down in it. You look up at him for a split second (Bobby doesn’t miss that) and he sits down next to you as Buck sits on the other side.

“Doesn’t she look amazing!” He practically fawns over you and you giggle

“Maybe you’ll be my plus one” he winks and suddenly you feel Eddie’s hand on your knee

“Y-yeah!” You laugh nervously, “Maybe!”

Everyone is laughing and talking but you’re way too distracted, taking a sip of your wine as you feel his hand softly rubbing your thigh, his fingers creeping higher and higher, feeling the soft skin of your inner thighs.

You don’t even know how he’s doing it, keeping a straight face while laughing at something Hen said and dragging his fingers lazy on the inside of your thighs. You feel his fingers brush over your panties and you jolt a little, glancing at him for a second before going back over to whatever story Maddie is telling everyone.

He just keeps teasing you, gently brushing his fingers over them. You can see the little smirk he has from the corner of your eye and you wish you could just slap it off. It’s not until the waiter comes to take all of your orders that you feel his fingers sink inside you, the second the man gets to you, holding his pen and paper with a polite smile on his face while Eddie pumps his long fingers in and out slowly.

“Miss?” He asks again, and Buck nudges your shoulder.

“Hurry up before I forget mine” he snickers and your mouth gapes open, still nothing coming out.

“I- uh- I’ll-“

“Like you’re not going to be a basic bitch and order your chicken Alfredo” Eddie pinches your clit and you snap your mouth shut to keep from moaning right there.

“No calling people basic bitches at the dinner table Eddie” Bobby scolds him and Buck snorts before slapping his hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” He says in a singsong voice and makes a little face and the waiter moves onto Buck now.

“I’m surprised you’re not ripping him apart right now” Hen chuckles and Eddie speeds up, his fingers working your clit faster as they all start talking again, you start to squirm against him some, gripping the edge of the table.

“Hey, are you okay?” Buck leans over, whispering quietly, draping his arm over the back of your chair. Eddie’s fingers freeze for a second and you nod slowly.

“I-I’m great, just- just peachy!”

“Are you sure?” He looks so worried, his hand starts gently rubbing your arm and Eddie starts his assault again, his fingers dipping deeper inside you again and moving against that spongy spot in fast little strokes. You squeeze your thighs together, moving your hips subtly. You turn your head to look at Eddie and he looks down at you, and then over at Buck.

He wants you to tell him.

“I-I’m- it’s just-“ Your voice is so quiet, your words shaky and weak

“You wanna go get some fresh air?” He scoots his chair back and goes to move yours but you put your hands on his arm, gripping it tightly as your orgasm washes over you, your eyes shut tight as Eddie works your clit faster, and you have no freaking clue how no one else can tell what’s going on

Well… no one except Buck. Who’s mouth drops wide open as he realizes what’s happening to you right now, even if he’s not sure how it’s happening

Eddie eases his hand from your soaked folds and wipes it on your inner thigh before putting his hands back in his lap like nothing happened. He grins at you widely as Buck helps you up

“Everything okay?” Bobby asks, sipping his wine and all attention is now on you as you hold onto Buck's arms, your legs a little wobbly

“Yeah, everything okay?” Eddie has the biggest shit-eating grin and you glare at him

“We’re just gonna get some fresh air” Buck holds you to him “I think she just had a little too much to drink”

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re a lightweight?” Eddie says over his glass and your mouth drops open

“You little-“

“Come on” Buck rolls his eyes as he pulls you outside with him. He helps you over to a pretty white bench and you both sit down.

“So…. What the fuck” Buck turns to you and you let your head fall back, pinching the bridge of your nose

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Fuck no”

“That’s what I thought” You look at him and he whines, running his hands over his face.

“Okay. Okay this one yeah, I promise I can do this”

“Eddie was fingering me under the table we just got together this evening before we came and got you and I want to rip his hair out”

You say it as fast as you can, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you shake him slowly. It doesn’t matter though because he’s literally not even moving, he’s completely short-circuiting as he stares into the distance

“Buck? Earth to Buck” You wave your hand in front of him and he blinks slowly

“Do you mean to tell me-“ Buck speaks slowly “You and Eddie are finally fucking dating”

“You can’t tell anyone!!” You say putting your hands over his mouth “Eddie is the bane of my fucking existence!!! No one would ever let us live it down!!”

“Firemgodldckingreson!!!!” Buck yells into your hands and you tilt your head

“Huh?”

He shoves your hands away and throws his in the air “I said For good fucking reason!!! You two are crazy! You guys have never liked each other ever! Eddie literally came to me like three weeks ago losing his mind over the fact he had a big ass crush on you and-“

“He did what?!” You get up from the bench and Buck slaps his hands over his mouth

“Nothing!! He did nothing it’s nothing! I don’t know what I’m talking about!!!”

You push past him and go right back into the restaurant. Buck is hot on your heels begging you to not say anything and he totally said it wrong but you’re not listening.

You get back to the table and everyone stops talking to look at you

“You’ve liked me for three weeks?!”

Eddie drops his fork on his plate and groans “Buck!!”

“She cornered me!!!” He whines and you whirl around on him

“I did not!!”

“Can you three maybe take this outside??” Athena hisses and Hen puts her hand on her arm

“No no. Let them cook”

Eddie stands up now and Buck sits down fast, hiding behind his napkin and trying to avoid being murdered by his best friends.

“No. I have not liked you for three weeks” He says, taking your hands

“Oh shit” Chimney whispers and Maddie slaps his arm

“I’ve liked you for longer than that”

The entire restaurant literally gasps, which is an exaggeration. Because Steven, the host was in the bathroom.

“Y-you’ve what?!” You splutter and Eddie runs his hands over his face

“I’ve liked you for a long fucking time Y/N. And whilst I wasn’t going to tell you tonight-“ he glares at Buck “I- I know I’ve been no better than a schoolboy tugging on your braids-“

“Neither has she” Bobby mutters and Athena glares at him

“But like. Shit, I really do like you okay? And I- I don’t mind” his voice lowers “I don’t… mind telling them about-“ he takes your hand again, stepping closer

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You mumble and he shrugs

“I thought you hated me”

“You wanna tell him or should we?” Athena gestures between her and Hen and you let your head smack against Eddie’s chest

“IrrealjylIkwdypauto”

“Gonna have to speak up sweetheart” Eddie snickers, tilting your head up with his fingers.

“I really liked you too and I don’t mind telling everyone we’re dating,” you say clearly, whispering it to him.

“Hey! Hey propose for a free dessert” Buck hisses, shoving a ring into Eddie’s hand.

“I’m not gonna-“

“They have chocolate lava cake”

Eddie gets on one knee, kissing your hand and you nearly crumble to the floor laughing.

“Y/N Alicia Maria Vanessa Nash. Will you make me the luckiest man in the world and be my wife?”

The entire restaurant holds their breath… and this time it really is! Steven is back!

“I-“ You sniffle, making yourself cry and shake your head fast “Yes!!! Oh god, Eddie yes!!!”

He stands up and scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around and kissing you and everyone claps for you as you sit back down.

“I get half the cake right”

“Oh definitely”

“You watch that ring with your life” Athena points at you and you wiggle your fingers.

“Will do boss” You grin as Eddie holds a forkful of lava cake to your mouth

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