#i bet it could even get me a book deal if i found the right publisher... ok i know i sound way too confident in my unwritten novel

[romantichomicide95]

⋆̩MEGUMI FUSHIGURO | no nut november

wk-> 2.3k

summary: megs tries to do no nut november, does not last a month. sort of has multiple parts.

warnings: nsfw. 18+. oral (f!receving), p in v sex, fem!bodied reader, agedup! to 20, domestic vibes.

"I'm just saying Gumi, I don't think you can do it." You say as you look at him across the table. He's engrossed in his book, holding a fork in his other hand, and seems unbothered by the topic of conversation - No Nut November.

Yuji was the one that brought it up of course, said they should have a little competition. Megumi, of course, told him he was an idiot. Then when he brought it up to you, you dared to tell him you didn’t think he could do it.

He rolls his eyes, dismissing the idea as foolish. Games like that are stupid, he thinks, and only idiots partake in such childish behavior. Idiots like Yuji. First of all, he could totally last a whole month if he wanted, it's not a big deal. But why would he? There's no reward at the end, no gold medal that says 'good job for not getting off'.

Megumi looks up from his book, his blue eyes scanning over your features. He raises an eyebrow as if to scoff at the very idea. "Why would I want to participate in something so... juvenile?"

You chuckle, shaking your head and playfully nudge his shoulder from across the table. "You're missing the point, Gumi. It's not about the challenge itself, it's just about proving that you can do it. It’s all in good fun.”

Megumi scoffs, rolling his eyes before putting his attention back to his book. "I'll pass on this one, thanks. I've got better things to do than worry about my... self-control."

“I mean…if you don’t think you can do it then just say that Megumi. It’s okay…I couldn’t resist me either.” You tease. If anything you know your boyfriend. He may be quiet, reserved, kind of a typical broody boy, but he often found himself unable to resist the need in his pants whenever you touched him the right way or kissed him in that spot that drove him crazy.

He looks up at you, closing his book and giving you his full attention. You’re wrong, he can do it. It’s really not that big of a deal. Besides, it’s not like you’re fucking irresistible. Okay, maybe he’s fooling himself with that one…but still, he likes to think of himself as having full control over such things. He can last a month, it’ll fly by anyway.

“Whatever, fine I’ll do it. Just so I can prove you wrong. But don’t come begging me when you get all worked up.”

—————

It’s been one week. One entire week where Megumi hasn’t touched you, or even tried to touch you. You weren’t exactly sure how he was doing it, but it was starting to drive you crazy. You tried taking care of yourself. But with every brush of your fingers against your needy clit the ache for his touch seemed to grow.

Frustrated, and to be quite frank extremely fucking horny, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You wait until he comes back from a mission one night. He’s exhausted, maybe too exhausted to remember the challenge. As you both sit on the couch, you can't help but notice how tired and drained he looks.

You decide to make your move, leaning in close and whispering seductively in his ear, "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately.” You say, running a finger under his shirt and tracing his abs. “I bet I could help you relieve some of that tension."

Megumi's eyes flicker open. He swallows hard, his breath hitching slightly as you continue to trace your finger over his toned body. "I... I don't know if that's a good idea right now," he says, you can hear the need in his voice as he darts his eyes away from your gaze.

You smirk, leaning in closer. "Why not? I can make you feel good Gumi." Your voice has a sultry tone to it, the one that you always use when you want his reserve to crumble.

He sucks in a breathe, adjusting his pants before inching himself slightly away from you. This is harder than he thought, but than he remembers you’re teasing from last week and the stubbornness in him takes over. "I'm committed to the dumb challenge that you, by the way egged me on to do.”

You can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. You were so sure that your seduction would work. Usually it doesn’t take long but it seems Megumi is more determined than you thought. With a sigh, you pull away from him, standing up and adjusting your clothes. "Fine. Have fun with your challenge," you mutter, walking away in frustration.

—————

Two and a half weeks, on the dot. That’s exactly how long it’s been since your boyfriend has touched you. At this point you’d completely given up on your seduction. You’d tried every trick in the book. Straddling his lap, kissing the spot behind his ear that drives him crazy…you even asked him for a massage which led to…well him just giving you a massage.

It actually had you confused. Surely he’s been horny? You knew he was pretty good at self-control when it came to pretty much every aspect of his life. But sex? I mean he’s not some ravaged sex maniac, like his best friend who lasted all of one day in the challenge, but he’s got a pretty high sex drive given his reserved demeanor. You actually had a pretty active and, if you did say so, amazing sex life. So for him to go this long without even so much as a word? It wasn’t making any sense.

So, here you were, given up on trying at all. Instead you were preparing for a movie night. Clad in his t-shirt and only a pair of pretty pink panties given the heat wave going through your city. You were standing in the kitchen now, waiting for the popcorn to pop and unbeknownst to you Megumi’s eyes hadn’t left your body.

He thinks you did this on purpose, sure it’s hot out but you know how much he loves the way those panties hug your ass cheeks. How crazy he goes when you wear his t-shirt with no bra underneath. It always gave just enough of a peek at your perky nipples and the thought of rolling one of those perfect little buds on his tongue has his cock straining against his pants.

Yeah, you must have done this on purpose. Prancing around, showing off that sexy body of yours. You keep reaching for things in the cupboard and then his shirt lifts up ever so slightly, revealing the curve of your hips. God, it’s driving him crazy. You’d been driving him crazy all week, everything you did was in some way absolutely and utterly sexy. The way you ran your hands in his hair as he lays on your chest, tired from a long mission. The way you pout your lips when you tease him, or rub your ass against his body as you cuddle at night. And of course the fact that no matter what you do you always looked so utterly breathtaking that it drove him mad. Every single thing had made him want to forget this stupid challenge and plunge his cock into the lush walls of your pussy.

As the popcorn finally starts to pop, filling the room with its delicious aroma, Megumi can't control himself anymore. He slowly gets up from the couch. You hear his slow footsteps behind you but before you can react he wraps his arms around you from behind, his body pressing against yours. His hands rest on your waist, his fingers just barely brushing the sides of your panties. His thumb rubs slowly against the skin of your thigh and the subtle touch alone sends shivers through you.

You can feel the hardness of his erection against your back. Megumi leans in close, his breath warm against your neck. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses his lips to the space between your shoulder and your collarbone. “You’re making this so hard...” He says, his voice hoarse like he’s trying hard to control himself.

You turn to face him. His hands don’t leave your sides as you look up at him. “Making what hard?”

“Not touching you, when you walk around looking like…this.” His eyes trail down your body, before he leans down brushing his lips against yours.

“Than touch me.” you whisper as you connect your lips with his. It’s not like you haven’t kissed this whole time, but something about his kisses now are primal, hungry…like he’s kissing you for first time. And you’re elated, you’d wanted him so bad…needed him.

He deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up your waist, gripping your hips. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling with yours as he lifts you up. You can feel the growing heat of his body against yours. His erection clearly evident through his pants. "I want you." he whispers between kisses.

He carrys you back to the couch, laying you on your back, one arm on either side of your body holding himself up. He looks at you, as if he’s soaking you in before he leans down to kiss you again. He pulls his t-shirt off of you over your head, leaning down to kiss from your collarbone down to your chest, before he takes a bud in between his lips, his tongue darting around it causing a moan to escape you. It’s just as he remembers, hard bud against his tongue. The feeling always making you so wet for him.

His lips then begin to trail down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He reaches the waistband of your panties, his fingers hooking into them, pulling them down from your body. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he continues his descent. “Stay still.” He says.

He pushes your legs apart, his tongue tracing along your folds. You reach down, lacing your fingers in his hair, giving him the initiative to push forward. Using his tongue, he goes in deeper, teasing you before dipping in fully to lap away at your sex. His tongue works the magic only Megumi’s tongue seems to have, circling around your clit in short, sharp flicks, dipping down into you then flickering back out. His mind goes a bit wild as he tastes your juices against his tongue and lips, it drives him almost as crazy as it drives you.

“Fuck-you sound so pretty.” Megumi’s cock throbs in his pants listening to the whimpers and moans only he can pull out of you. It’s been so long since he’s tasted you, smelled you, had your hands in his hair eagerly egging him on. His cock strains against his pants and he grinds against the couch, chasing any sort of friction as he pulls orgasm out of you. You grip his hair as you cum, with one moan of his name and he wastes no time licking up your juices. He savors the taste, two weeks away and he’s practically feral just from the sweet nectar. Then he’s back hovering over you again.

His lips meet yours, the sweet taste of your juices still lingering on his tongue. He kisses down your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. He stops momentarily to discard of his shirt before his lips are on yours again. He teases your clit with a finger, then another, coating them with your slick.

He can’t take it anymore, not when your soft whimpers are singing directly in his ear. Not with the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, he’s so desperate for you to clench around his cock you don’t even notice how quick he is taking his pants off until you realize the tip of his dick is softly rubbing against your clit.

It’s just the tip and you’re already moaning, fuck you missed his cock and the way it so deliciously filled you up. Your moans egg him on, he closes his eyes momentarily as he pushes in slowly, a low grunt leaving his lips as he feels your pussy clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice hoarse. His thrusts become faster and harder as he loses himself in the sensation of your walls around him, nails lightly digging into his shoulders.

His cock slides in and out of your wet heat, the room filled with the squelching sounds of your pussy milking his cock. He grips your hips, lifting them slightly off the bed so your back is arched as he drives his cock deeper and faster his hips moving rapidly against yours.

You reach out for him and he laces a hand with yours, your back falling back down to the bed as your fingers lace together. He looks at you for a second, drinking in the sight of your beautiful naked body below him.

He leans down and kisses you rough. “Don’t think I can last much longer.” He says, his face buried in your neck. You squeeze his hand as a sign that’s it’s okay and somehow the tenderness of your touch pushes him to the edge. “I’m….” he can’t even say the words before his cock twitches inside you. His cum filling you up. He grunts one last time, his face still buried in your neck.

He doesn’t move for a second, collapsing on top of you. He just wraps his arms around your body, holding you close before he moves to kiss you on the forehead.

A smile plays on your lips and you brush a sweat piece of raven hair from his pretty blue eyes. “I knew you couldn’t last the whole month.” You say with a light giggle.

He falls back down on top of you, burying his face in your neck once more and groaning. “Shut up.”

tagging: @withthegraceofthewind @belfiguevel @chilichopsticks @nobody289x @rlvsmegumi @cassiefromhell @yihona-san06 @thebigcheez

#megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #megumi x reader smut #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk megumi #fushiguro smut #fushiguro x reader

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part VII)

Pairing | Eddie Munson x shy!reader

Warnings | 18+ only, do not interact if you are underage. Heavy petting, P in V sex, soft dom!Eddie. Discussion of uncomfortable sexual experiences. Inordinate amount of praise kink, good girl's, and vulnerability on both sides.

Word count | ~10,000

Taglist

Previous Chapter

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Most days, walking into the cafeteria comes with a cool sense of dread. A heaviness in your chest, mind working overtime to prepare yourself for an hour not quite talking with your not quite friends. You’re never sure what you prefer; the white hot shame that comes with laughter at your expense, or the simmering ache from being ignored entirely.

But there’s a levity to your mood today. You’re proud, or maybe more accurately relieved, at the circled red letter on the top right of your Chemistry test. 

You spot May at the usual table as you file in, catching her excited wave over the head of some of the cheer girls. The others offer a cursory glance before returning to their conversation, but May’s expression is expectant. “So? How’d you do?”

You grin. “A minus.”

“I knew it!” She squeals, removing her bag from the chair next to her to make space for you. “You always make a big deal out of tests, and then breeze through!”

She’s half right. 

Something about the weight of potential failure, some unknown consequence to doing poorly, always has you worrying about tests days prior, heart pounding in the moments before you flip the paper. Then you second guess yourself all the way through, scribbling over wrong answers before writing the same thing down again.  

But you certainly don’t breeze through. The weight of this test on your mind had you bursting into tears in Eddie’s van last week. What was supposed to be a movie theatre date turned into an impromptu study session at the library. Eddie sat opposite you while you read over your notes, writing up his campaign ideas and flicking through a book he’d found in the fantasy section before working begrudgingly on an essay about JFK he was supposed to have handed in the week before. He switched to the seat next to you when you failed to hide a sniffle, let you tuck yourself under his arm and press your face to his shoulder.

“C’mon,” he said eventually, coaxing you out from the damp spot on the collar of his shirt. “Talk me through what you don’t get, okay? I bet the answer’s up here.” He pressed a finger to your forehead, narrowing his eyes like he could pinpoint the spot in your brain the information was hiding. “We just gotta knock it loose somehow.”

He must, truly, have been bored to death as you went through the problem, starting over again and again each time you explained yourself into a corner. But he listened anyway, prompted you to keep going until you came to an answer that satisfied you, a conclusion that made sense, and then he listened to the next problem.

You apologised at the end of the night. For all the hysterics, for dragging him along to a joyless evening. He’d swiped the thought away with a casual wave of his hand. “You couldn’t be my smart girl if you didn’t have to study sometimes.”

Just thinking about it now, your eyes flicker from May’s hand on the back of the empty chair beside her to the place Eddie sits, far on the other side of the room. 

It’s an invisible line you haven’t crossed, spending any time with him at lunch. Eddie would never let you question whether he wanted you to sit with him, never let you worry about seeming clingy. He’d made it clear you were always welcome. What stopped you was that tug at your heart, that feeling that you’d be taking another step away, putting more distance between you and your friends. Or May, at least. You can’t remember the last time Heather sat with you more than once a week. 

And you promised, sincerely, that you would try a bit harder with the cheer girls. Apart from that one tipsy conversation with Tracy at a party, you’re not sure you’ve quite fulfilled that.

But you want so badly to tell him. Shamefully, it was your first thought when you turned your paper over today. Along with the usual relief came excitement, knowing Eddie would be pleased for you and make it clear, call you his smart girl till your face burns hot. 

“I’m just-” You start, tucking your bag up on your shoulder, glancing back to May. “I’m just gonna show Eddie quickly.”

There’s a pause. Her pleased expression, the gentle curve of her wax pink lips, doesn’t falter. Instead, it seems to calcify on her face. “Oh. You’re gonna sit over there?”

“Just for a while,” you reason. “Just to show him my grade. Okay?”

She makes a high mm hmm noise, half agreeing, half unsure, but you decide to take it at face value, making a beeline for Eddie’s table. 

As usual, he sits at the head, the frizz of his hair lit up in the natural light from the window behind him. His expression is a touch bored, eyes blinking slowly, chin resting on his palm as a boy at the other end of the table - young, with tight brown curls tucked under a yellow cap - talks a mile a minute. You catch the words radio and roof as you approach, but your own mind goes blank when you reach them.

You’d feel only excitement, if it was just Eddie who noticed your presence. For his part, his whole posture changes; from slumped over the table to sitting straight up, his pouty lips turning to an excited smile in your direction as his hand drops away from his chin. But on top of that, six additional faces turn to watch you walk up the side of the table. Maybe you could handle three, used to some attention from Jeff, Gareth and Matthew at this point, comfortable in their acceptance of your silly little fidgets and occasional long silences. 

But the other three, all freshmen, staring at you like you grew another head on the way over, have you shuffling in place, playing with the strap of your bag. You vaguely know Mike from watching him run out the door on the occasions you’ve babysat Holly, though his hair is a good couple inches longer than the last time you spent an evening at the Wheeler’s. The others, Lucas and Dustin, you know both from Eddie’s descriptions and his complaints. 

“Hi,” you say, voice quieter than you’d like as you wave at the group. 

“To what do we owe this pleasure, Princess?” 

Your mouth opens, and your throat closes. Your face feels suddenly warm under the eyes of his whole table. In an instant, you regret coming over here. What must you look like? What will they think of you, when they realise you came over here to brag about a simple test result? 

Eddie hums a questioning sound, bringing your focus back to him. He’s looking at you the way he does when you both know you’re going to have to be the one to speak first. There’s anticipation there, but the little curve of his lips is all kind patience. 

You swallow, glance down the table again. You make eye contact with Lucas, give him an awkward smile at his friendly wave. Even at that, you know the words won’t come. Sighing quietly, you unzip your bag and search through your books for the test, drawing out the paper and fiddling with the corner for a second. How do you tell him, all of them, that you really aren’t bragging? That more than anything you just want to thank him? 

Eddie’s eyebrows raise as he looks between you and the paper. When he holds his hand out, and you find yourself passing it to him instinctively, toes curling in your shoes.

“An A!?” He screeches immediately, thoroughly dispelling any hope you might have had that he’d keep it to himself. Though your face burns, you fight the urge to glance around and offer an apologetic smile to his group, to the people that turned at the sound of his yell, because this is Eddie. Any embarrassment you might feel pales in comparison to hearing the pride in his voice, to see it on his face. What do judgmental looks and cruel whispers from strangers mean to you when they’re caused by Eddie, so excited and pleased for you that he’ll yell it publicly?

You tuck the top of your foot to the back of your ankle, playing with your skirt, correcting him shyly. “An A minus.”

Eddie scoffs. “An A’s and A, sweetheart. I’d know, I’ve missed enough of them.” 

Knowing now that at least Eddie himself has taken it the right way, you let yourself indulge. “I was two marks off a real A.”

Eddie’s hand slams down on the table with a bang, making you and everyone in the surrounding area jump as he rises, kicking his chair back with a screech. You watch, left in some strange place between proud and mortified as he practically floats over to the neighbouring table, flicking the paper at a group of juniors dressed exclusively in neon. 

“You see that? My girlfriend got a fucking A in Mr Brown’s AP Chemistry class!” He moves the paper around, displaying it for each of them. “That shit’s like fucking gold dust- hey!” He turns to shake it at a passing boy with a calculator in his breast pocket. “You’re in that class, right? How’d you do in this test, huh?” 

“If you must know, Munson, I got an A plus.” 

There’s a moment of silence.

“Okay, man. Shit. Kinda showing off a little-” He turns to you, eyes wide and head tilted as if to say get a load of this guy, but you’re shaking your head, desperately biting back a smile. 

“Eddie!” 

“Ah, she calls to me.” He drifts over to you then, frizzed hair flying out behind him. You giggle a little wildly behind your hands, still shaking your head at him though any disapproval is for show at this point. Everyone who turned to watch Eddie crow seems to have returned to their conversations, this side of the room apparently well used to his outbursts. He stops close enough that he’s all you can see; his dimpled smile, eyes shining at you while he hands you your test back. 

“Take my seat, Princess.” He gestures with a wide arm, directing you to the chair he rose from. You make a quick glance over at the cheer table, find Caroline just sitting down now with her tray, and feel an unusual sense of relief. It feels like freedom, to be on this side of the room, and not directly under her gaze. 

By the time you’re settled in his seat, Eddie has retrieved a spare chair, carrying it above his head and dropping it down next to you with another outrageous bash. He collapses into it, his arm finding the back of your chair as he leans in to Jeff, sitting on your left. “You’re in that class, too, right man?” 

“You know, we’ve been friends three years now, Eddie, and you’ve never once taken an interest in my grades,” Jeff answers, shutting down Eddie’s inquiry before he can really ask. He turns to you. “Bet it was question 18 that got you, huh?”

“Mm, no, that was okay.” You answer. “Eddie and I went over retention factors so much at the library last week. I understand it way better now.”

Six pairs of eyes blink at you, and the relief you were experiencing is fading fast. Instead, you get the recognizable sense that you said something wrong. Your foot starts tapping at pace, fingers finding the edge of the table and running over the edge.

“You were at the library?” Gareth asks Eddie, aghast tone mocking but serious in its surprise.

“I’ve been to the library before,” Eddie bites. “M’there all the time.”

“We’re not talking about monopolising the fantasy section, here,” Matthew says. “You were studying, Eds.”

“I told you,” Eddie replies, widening his legs until you feel the denim of his jeans rough against your bobbing calf. “I’m working hard this year. Trying to get out of this shithole.” He presses his leg more firmly to yours, and you realise it’s a deliberate touch, a silent reminder that he’s there, that he’s not going to leave you alone with whatever’s got you fidgeting.  

“You said that last year,” Jeff says.

“And the year before that,” chimes Gareth through a bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah, well, I meant it this time,” he says, leaning back in his seat with a deep sigh. “Jesus, Henderson, you look like you’re gonna explode. Go on. So you’ve built your stereo on the roof.”

“Not a stereo, Eddie- a radio!” Dustin cries through a mouthful of cafeteria lasagne. 

Eddie’s face darkens. “Do I look like I give a- Christ.” He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head with genuine frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever, man. Please, please, just finish your story so we can all move on with our lives.”

Undeterred by Eddie’s rough tone, Dustin launches right back into what he’d been speaking about as you approached. Mainly focused on how he convinced his Mom to let him up on the roof in the first place.

You sigh in quiet relief as the attention of the table moves swiftly away from you, leg slowing until it stops shaking altogether. Eddie’s knee bumps yours, and you feel the warmth of him as he leans in to speak softly, just to you.

“My smart girl,” he says, drawing pleased shivers up your spine. “You deserve it, yeah? You worked real hard.”

“I wanted,” you start, grabbing at his sleeve, thumbing the chain that holds the leather together. “I wanted to say thank you for helping me. I know it was kinda boring.”

“Nah, glad I could help.” Eddie’s expression turns a touch sheepish. “I, uh, actually got a C on that History essay? Mrs Kelly said I would have got a B, if I’d handed it in on time, so…” 

Your eyes widen, barely able to process the sight of him now. Eddie Munson, who just yelled across the room about your academic achievements, now looking anywhere but at you, scratching his face and shrugging like his own barely matter. You find his hand, squeeze it tight until he shows you his eyes.

“Eddie, that’s brilliant!” You say. He puffs out air like it means nothing to him, shakes his head. “When-” 

“You aren’t even listening, Eddie!” Dustin calls from the end of the table. Eddie rolls his eyes, but then he gestures ;azily for Dustin to continue, now with the gift of his attention. It’s enough for anyone to believe he finds the boy annoying at best, but you know from how Eddie talks about them that Dustin’s kind of his favourite. There’s a clear fondness in Eddie’s tone when he rants about Dustin trying to contribute ideas to his campaigns, the begrudging respect he has for how unapologetically himself the boy is. The touch of jealousy that creeps in when he talks about Dustin’s friendship with Steve Harrington, of all people. Badass, my ass, he mumbles each time.

You listen in comfortable silence to the conversation as it continues, occasionally contributing a little yes or no when Jeff asks you leading questions, your fondness for him ever increasing. Only when you watch Eddie retrieve a bag of pretzels from his backpack do you remember your own lunch, too taken in by the awe in Matthew’s voice recounting the first time he heard a Judas Priest song, apparently life changing.

You frown at the realisation that the half empty bag is all Eddie brought for himself, immediately offering your open tupperware and holding it steady under his shaking head until he acquiesces to tearing one half of your sandwich in two, chewing on the quarter in between his contributions to the conversation.

Your ears prick when you move on to tearing the segments from your satsuma, handing a half to Eddie without a word. Amongst the chatter, Mike laughs about Dustin’s current failing grade in Latin, an unusual outcome for him. Dustin sighs like an old man. 

“I ask you, how many tenses does one language need?” He groans. “I thought there’d be something we could use for a campaign, The Exorcist style, you know? Instead I’m trying to remember the difference between types of declensions. Or I will, when I fully grasp what declensions are.”

The conversation about Judas Priest you’d found yourself somewhat involved in fades with how much you’re focused on Dustin’s defeated tone. One part of you is screaming that you could help him, that he seems really worried about it and he’s a smart boy so it probably wouldn’t be much work to get him on the right track. Then another part, the one that screeches and wails its distress until your head hurts, asks, what if he says no? What if he laughs? What if they all do? 

You open your mouth, wondering if you should just say it across the table. Just offer; just do it. Of course he won’t say no. And if he does, he’s Eddie’s friend so it will be gentle. Still embarrassing though. Your mouth closes again, teeth digging grooves into the gum behind your lips. Just help him. You pull your sleeves down over your hands, playing with the soft ends. You clear your throat, take a breath-

“I’m good at Latin,” you say, immediately cringing at how that sounds. But you’re pleased when Jeff goes on chatting about the album he just bought, letting you contribute to the other conversation across the table freely. Dustin blinks at you owlishly. “I mean, I can help. Tutor you, or something? If you want.”

“Seriously!?” Dustin asks, flashing you a braced grin when you nod. “That would be amazing! Thanks!”

You smile, just sighing out your relief when you feel another nudge at your knee. Eddie’s watching you, eyebrows raised. You shrug shyly, grasping the sleeve of his jacket again to fiddle with the chains. He pulls free, but only to take hold of your hand instead. 

You’re basking in the feeling of knowing Eddie’s proud of you, your own pride in yourself, and you know you couldn’t force yourself back across the room today if you tried. 

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You realised, walking alone to class, that you hadn’t spoken that much during lunch the entire time you’d been at highschool. Giggling at Lucas’ jokes, asking about their DnD characters, getting increasingly comfortable talking about metal with a group of people who are genuinely excited to hear about your introduction to the genre. By the end it felt almost natural; simple and fun to talk to an entire table of people.

But you’re feeling some of the effects of it now, even quieter than usual in Eddie’s van as Gareth considers whether to paint or sharpie the Corroded Coffin logo Eddie designed onto the front of his bass drum. 

From the soft hum you’d given in greeting as you climbed into the van after school, Eddie had offered you his palm, open and relaxed. Now, your forefinger traces the long groove from his wrist to the base of his thumb that forms his life line. You love Eddie’s hands, love how they feel in yours, and on every other part of you they’ve touched. 

You swallow, face suddenly hot. It’s been easier, nicer, every time Eddie’s touched you. So much so that you now understand why it’s all some people think about, all that drives them. The way Eddie feels inside you, all the words that spill from his mouth as he moves; how much he wants you, how good you make him feel. You find your mind circling back to it at the strangest times. In class, making dinner, driving home with Eddie’s friends-

You jump a little at the chorus of bye’s from the back, the sound of the doors being thrown open. Eddie’s already watching you curiously when you look back to him, unable to hold eye contact, half convinced he’ll be able to read your thoughts with one good look at you. “You okay, sweet thing?”

“M’just tired.”

“Right,” Eddie says, nodding thoughtfully. “The guys- they can be a little intense.”

Mirth spreads through you at the thought of Eddie ‘jumps on cafeteria tables’ Munson describing anyone as intense. “I like them.”

“You say that now. A week tutoring Dustin and you’ll be changing your name and moving to Idaho. I’ll never see you again, and it’ll be all that little punk’s fault.”

“He’s your favourite.”

Eddie’s tone goes from playful to offended in a second, as to close a screech as his deep voice can get. “He is not- I don’t even have- Even if I did have a favourite, which I don’t, Dustin Henderson would not even come close-” He pauses at the sound of your laugh, narrowing his eyes. “Mmh. I get it. Tired, but not too tired to rile me up.”

You chew the inside of your lip, fighting a smile. Running a finger along his palm again, you reply, “it’s not particularly difficult.” You expect another dramatic yell of offence, or maybe a laugh. Instead, you get something pleased from his expression, dimples on his cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing. I just like it when you tease me.” His fingers close around yours, weaving together. “S’like you’re more comfortable around me, I guess.” 

You’re sure he’s right. Every day it’s a little easier. Every time you see him, your mind gets in the way less and less, slowly coming to accept that he’s not waiting for you to say the wrong thing, that he won’t abandon you when you inevitably do. 

“You make me feel comfortable, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows raise, waiting for your quick nod. “Does that mean you’re coming back to mine?” 

“Actually,” you start, truly needing that comfort now. You know the implications of what you’re going to ask, sure that if somebody other than Eddie heard you, they’d come to conclusions about the kind of girl you are. 

The more time you spend with Eddie the less you’re sure that it matters if they would be right or wrong. 

You press your knees together, tap your fingers in a wave along Eddie’s knuckles. “Well, my parents aren’t home...”

There’s a second of silence, long enough to have you squirming, finding his dark eyes and then looking away again in a loop. 

Eddie leans into you, chin tilted to capture your gaze and keep you there. “You mean to say that the Princess’ tower is unguarded this night?” 

Your stomach squeezes at the sound of his voice, serious and soft, like a real adventurer on the verge of committing himself to a great quest. You love this about Eddie, how easily he can slip into characters like this. It’s something he learned from DnD, or maybe Eddie’s so good at the game because he has this ability to play at being somebody different without hesitation, without a hint of the worry you’d feel if you tried it, convinced you’d do it all wrong, sure you’d sound stupid. 

“No dragons for me to slay?” He asks, closing one eye like he’s trying to work out if you’re tricking him. Your head shakes, and Eddie turns your hand in his to bring it to his mouth. He kisses your knuckles, a soft warm press. “S'that what you want?”

“Yes, Eddie.” 

“Okay,” he says, lips meeting your hand once again. “To the castle, it is.”

Eddie is as quick as usual to drive you home, each turn forcing you to lean to the door or to the centre console. But any urgency seems to vanish the second he’s pulled up by your house. In the van, you wait as he makes sure he has his wallet and his keys, sets the sun visor back into position. When you've jumped out, you watch him check that he's locked each door of the van with more care than you've ever seen from him, like he's particularly worried about a carjacker on your suburban street in broad daylight. 

Inside, Eddie is careful about unlacing his shoes and placing them at the door next to yours, toed off your heels carelessly. Then, at the top of the stairs, when you think you finally have him at a regular pace towards your room, you are jolted back by his sudden stop on the landing, leaving your hands connected at the end of stretched arms. 

“‘M looking for anything I can use as a weapon, you know?” He says, peering into a vase of fake orchids, examining a glass seahorse statue, scrunching his nose when he gets hit with the scent from a bowl of potpourri. “This all feels a little too easy, and you’ve gotta expect the unexpected in situations like these.”

“Eddie?"

You’re so endeared to him, watching him examine the objects your Mom set out playing up to this story he’s created. But the way he’s stalling, almost hesitant, has you sure you missed a clear sign along the way. “Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you, like, not want to come here?” 

His head shoots up then, round eyes blinking. “Of course, I did. I do.” Eddie laughs airily, tucking some of his hair behind his ear as he approaches. “I’m a freak, okay? I’m not crazy.” 

You still feel like you’re missing something, wondering if you should offer him another way out. Eddie makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, inviting you to guide him forward. Walking slow to give him time to change his mind, you make your way to your door, decidedly not looking back at him when you enter.

Eddie is unusually quiet, then, following you in but stopping once again when he takes the first step onto your cream carpet. You only glance back at him when you’ve dropped his hand and started playing with your sleeves, comforted by the fact he just seems to be taking everything in. He stands out, all ragged denim and black leather in the pastel softness of your bedroom, and yet he fits so well in a room full of things you love. 

He shifts his weight back and forth on the soft carpet, subtly sniffs the air that must smell of you and the apple blossom diffuser on your side table. His eyes drift as he takes in each focal point; the desk laden with textbooks and paper, your windowsill, lined with a couple snow globes, a ceramic cat you’d painted as a child, a framed photo of you and your friends Heather gave you for your 16th. He scans quickly over the cork boards to the corner of the room, smile lines appearing at the sight of your long favourite stuffed animal, a soft grey elephant you’d carefully positioned on a pink cord beanbag, looking ready to start reading judging by the pile of books to her right.

His gaze eventually circles back to you, waiting nervously for his reaction. Eddie shifts back and forth on his feet. “You know, I, uh, gotta admit, I imagined some stained glass.” He gestures lazily to the window, then to your bed, the wooden frame and the blue floral bedspread. “And I was sure you’d have one of those beds with all the fabric, you know what I’m talking about?” He raises both hands to motion the shape of a canopy bed, fingers wiggling. 

“Disappointed?” You say, only half joking. 

Eddie finally takes a step further in, turning to the shelves of books by your bed. “Me? Nah I was worried about getting tangled up in it, to be honest.” He flashes you a quick grin before scanning over the spines. Eventually, he points to one. “Iron Maiden, yeah?”

You check the book he’s pointing to, The Complete Poems of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and nod, always pleased by the reminder that Eddie listens, really listens, when you speak. That he remembers so many innocuous things you share with him, things you’d never expect him to remember. 

You badly want to reach out for him then, fingers itching to hold his hand, play with his sleeves. You almost do, raising your arm a touch, but a wave of concern hits you, still trying to work out if you’ve done something, said something wrong to make him act like he’d rather not be here. 

Eddie catches your stunted movement, eyes blinking at your fidgeting hands before shifting to your face. You’re sure then that your anxiety is clear in your expression, that he sees how eagerly you’re waiting for him to give you an explanation for his hesitancy in the hallway.

Eddie frowns, looking at the books again. He clears his throat. "I've never been in a girls' room before," he tells you. From his voice, it sounds like a confession.

“Oh.” Your brows furrow, trying to work out how that matters. “I mean, they’re not all like this.”

"No, I mean, it’s just that it’s like, a first. For me.” When that doesn’t quite cover your confusion, he continues. “Nobody ever wanted, y'know, me in their room. Or whatever."

Your heart pangs with sudden understanding, the memory of Eddie lying across from you on a blanket, the warm sun on your skin. Am I being too intense? That's what Eddie had asked you, that day at the lake. People say I can be too much too soon. 

“And it’s already different, with you. Better. I mean, shit, a million times better,” he says, eyes wide. “But I still just didn’t expect you to, just, ask me, like- Like, you just want me here. Cause it’s never been that simple. Shit. I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

“No. No, Eddie,”

“I didn’t wanna make you worried or anything. It’s the complete last thing I’d ever want. I guess I was kinda just waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He laughs again, but it’s hollow, and cuts off too suddenly to be real. 

You give in entirely, practically launching at him to wrap your arms around his torso and pull him into a tight, desperate hug. You wish, not for the first time, that you were more like him, better at getting your thoughts into words and saying them.Then you could soothe him like he deserves. Then you could tell him the truth. 

Eddie’s face presses to your hair, arms tight around your shoulders. 

“Eddie,” you murmur into his shoulder, squeezing him again before you build the courage to look him in the eyes. “You’re so-” Your throat tightens, forcing you to whisper. “You’re so good.” It seems lacklustre, probably a million better words to describe all that Eddie is, but it feels right; it’s what you think, that Eddie is, deep at his core, so good that it hurts. “You’re too good, too good for anyone that made you think-” Your voice cracks, and Eddie blinks shining eyes at you when you reach up to stroke his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, pressing his face to your palm. “I’m okay. Really.”

You press your lips to his, hoping he understands this at least. You feel his smile, and believe that he does. He hums as you shift your kisses to the corner of his mouth, his cheeks. You peck the end of his nose, watch it scrunch sweetly. You’re warmed by the sight of his reddening face, the sound of his laugh. “You know how to make a guy feel appreciated, sweetheart.”

Your hands seem incapable of moving from him, only moving from his cheek to his shoulders, wrists tickled by the fluffy ends of his curls. “I want you here,” you say, a little strained. “I promise.”

“I know. I know you do.”

“I would have invited you earlier,” you continue. “It’s just…”

Eddie’s eyes flash. His hands, big and warm, rub up and down your back, pulling you closer to him until you’re flush against his chest. “It’s just, we couldn’t have done what you want to do,” he finishes. “Not with your parents downstairs. That’s right, isn’t it?”

Your stomach twists with that exciting shame, face hot. You don’t have anywhere to hide, caught by Eddie’s gaze. You still can’t look into his eyes for too long, lest your heart beat out your chest, so you find yourself staring at his lips, pillowy and pink. “Not just that.”

“Okay,” he answers, hand drifting down to skim the end of your skirt. You press closer to him when his fingers tease the soft skin of your thighs, and he breathes a laugh. “But, mainly that, huh?” 

Your fingers curl into his shoulders, embarrassed and excited in equal measure that he’s naming your intentions so clearly. You bounce a little on your toes, still gazing at Eddie’s lips, the dents of his laugh lines and his dimples.

Callused fingers reaching under your skirt, his thumb grazing the cotton of your panties, pulling at the elastic. You think you’re being subtle, the way you open your legs a little to make space for him, but know immediately that you failed when Eddie laughs, eyes crinkled at the sides. He breathes a sigh, watching you lose the last pretence that you aren’t a little desperate for him to touch you how he wants. “My good girl.”

Oh, but that makes you ache for him. Your head drops to his neck, hiding your face in his skin. You breathe him in, smoke and Eddie, swallowing a whimper.

“You like that, don't you? Like being a good girl.”

You nod on impulse, willing to agree to just about anything when his fingers drag over your mound, press to the split of your pussy through your panties, the material just grazing your clit. But something about what he's said isn't quite right, and you start shaking your head instead.

Eddie's mouth finds your ear, warm breath teasing the sensitive skin at the top of your neck. "No? Not a good girl?" 

You shake your head again, because that's not right either. You tilt your face to catch his gaze, ink dark eyes already waiting for you. "I like-" You sigh when his fingers catch at the fabric that sits at the top of your sex again, giving a single teasing circle that helps you relax enough to tell him the truth of it. “It’s for you, Eddie.”

"Ah," Eddie breathes, finally, finally dipping his fingers past the elastic of your panties. He hums his approval when he finds your clit, swollen and waiting for him. He gives you one tap just to see you pout, then he’s rubbing tight circles that have you trying to press even closer to him, nails digging into his shoulders. “My good girl, mm?" 

"Yeah," you nod desperately, proud to see how pleased he looks with you. "Yes, Eddie." 

"That's right." He continues, watching your face as your lips open to moan softly, eyelids flickering. His fingers dip quickly to your entrance, dragging slick up to ease the way for his fingers on your button. “Just for me. Cause I'm the one who gets to touch you," he says. "Only I get to hear you like this, yeah? Hear you begging me with that pretty voice?" 

"Only you. Please, Eddie." 

“S’cause you know I’m gonna take care of you, don’t you, sweet thing? You and this pretty pussy?”

Eddie's fingers keep rubbing at your clit, pulling sensations from your body that only he ever has. Staring at him, hearing his rough voice even as he looks at you like you’re precious, you feel it again, as you have with increasing frequency. How badly you want him like this and every other way. It almost overwhelms you, makes you want to hide away again in his shoulder. But Eddie is owed the sight of the pleasure he brings you, deserves to see it play out on your face, hear every whimper clearly. Eddie coos softly at the sight of you, his free hand coming to support the back of your neck, nodding you through each shaking breath. “That’s it. That’s it. You gonna cum?”

A tremble moves through your body, hips rolling against his hand as you groan into the air. The high builds to a long, half painful peak, your hands grasping at Eddie’s t-shirt, his hair, first for something to hold on to, then because the resulting groan has your cunt clenching around nothing. It crosses over into too much suddenly, twitching away from his hand between your legs even as you give in and throw your face to his neck, kissing your gratitude all over the pale column of his throat. You find his pulse, feel its steady beat under your lips, and bite. It’s little more than a scrape of your teeth, but Eddie shudders in your arms, tilting his head back to let you soothe the bruised skin with your tongue, then kisses. 

You sigh deep, relaxing your death grip on his body while Eddie kisses at your sweaty temple. You peek at him then, find the warm brown of his irises swallowed up by darkness, his tongue licking quick over his bitten dark lips. He pulls his hand from your panties, showing you the remnants of your slick on his fingers before licking at his ring finger. “Always taste so good, baby. Wanna try?”

“Uh huh,” you say, head fuzzy with pleasure. Your mouth drops open for him, letting him press his middle finger to your tongue. You close your lips around it, sucking gently. You don’t think it tastes of much at all, but Eddie seems suddenly desperate to get at what he’s given you. He drags his finger from your mouth and captures your lips before you’ve even registered the loss, his tongue licking at yours like he can steal the taste of you back. “That what you were thinking of when you invited me up here, mm?” He says when he breaks away, lips still grazing yours as he speaks. “Or do you want more?”

You do want more. You want Eddie. Want him filling you with the length you can feel, hardening against your thigh. You want to make him feel good, want to hear him groan when he cums. “More, Eddie,” you whisper without shame. “Please.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning in for another desperate kiss, taking advantage of your pliant state to open your mouth to him. “Fuck. I wanna bend you over so bad,” he admits, watching your face for your reaction. “You want that? Want me to fuck you like that in your pretty princess bed?” 

Your toes curl, clit throbbing at the playful tone of Eddie’s voice, teasing and rough. “Mm. Okay.”

Eddie tilts his head, meeting your eyes, checking in. “Okay?”

You try to picture it, imagine how Eddie will feel fucking you that way. In truth, you’re stuck  on how vulnerable you’ll be; exposed, not able to see him or cling to him the way you like. But it’s Eddie, you assure yourself. You take a breath. “I want that, Eddie.” 

The kiss that follows is sweet. It’s a comforting reminder that no matter how much Eddie teases you, how rough he gets, he's still the boy who calls you princess, holds your hand in the car, promises to take care of you. 

He helps you remove your shirt from your heated skin, pulls his own over his head the second you start tugging at the hem. Once you have access to his skin, you can't stop touching him, palms flat to his chest, kissing his neck while he pulls your panties down over your hips. 

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he murmurs, turning you to face your bed. He kisses your shoulder, his body warm at your back. "Climb up for me, mm?"

You want to do what he says. You want him to touch you like this. But you still feel a prickle of nerves as you crawl up to your pillow, body exposed and missing Eddie’s skin already. 

“So pretty,” Eddie says above you, behind you, as you rest your chin on your curled arms on top of the mattress. You hear the clink of his belt, toes curling at the sound. Then you feel him through his boxers, hard and hot as he rolls his hips against your ass. You hear him whisper, shit, say something about protection. It's followed by a far off, satisfied a-ha at locating a condom in his discarded jacket, but it’s fuzzy beneath the sudden rushing in your ears. 

You feel him again, grinding against you, and you're not sure where all the excitement went. You’re staring at the blue cornflowers on your pillowcase while he continues behind you, remembering the last time you were positioned like this, tense and vulnerable. You try to breathe slow. When that doesn’t work, you try to let the heavy throb between your legs remind you how badly you want this.

It doesn't work, and you focus instead on feeling of just having to lie like this, get through it for him, just stare at the flowers and don't cry and he’ll be finished soon-

The pressure behind you disappears, the mattress shifts under you. Eddie bounces when he flops down beside you, face level with yours and hidden behind his flying hair. He makes soft puh noises like he’s trying to spit it out, blowing it away from his face. You blink, the white noise in your ears fading when you touch him, tucking his hair back behind his ear to find his grateful smile. 

“Thanks, baby,” he says. He reaches for your hip, rubbing soft as he presses your arched body down until you're lying, flat to the bed. Then, all heartbreaking gentleness; “where’d you go?”

You stumble, embarrassed. “I, I didn’t-”

“Stopped making those pretty noises for me," he reasons. “Isn't any fun without 'em." Your bottom lip shakes, and you feel like an idiot. 

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Not Andy, not some boy here for himself, only to take and never give. 

"Hey," he says, shuffling in until he can bump your nose with his. "We don’t have to do it like this if you don’t want. You know that, right? Don't have to do anything you don't want.”

“It’s not that, I-” You sigh, watch Eddie’s shining eyes, round and soft, waiting for you. “I needed to know it was you. I’m sorry.”

Recognition registers in his face. He frowns, cupping your face in his palm. “No apologies. Not about what you need, okay?”

“Okay, Eddie.”

“Wanna cuddle?” 

You do. Desperately. You reach out for him easily, shuffling until you're surrounded by him, clinging to his torso, cheek to his chest.

"Ah," Eddie breathes, wiggling like he can get his skin any closer to yours. "That's the good stuff." 

You hadn’t realised how fast, how hard your heart was beating until you’re settled in Eddie’s arms and it starts to slow. There's a minute’s comfortable silence, letting his presence ease you back to comfort. Then he hums, strokes at the hair on your temple. "You gotta tell me when something's not right, ‘kay?" he says seriously. "I like to think I can read you pretty well, but I could've missed it." 

"I'm sorry," you say, then, remembering you just agreed not to do that, "sorry."

Eddie breathes a laugh through his nose, leaves a wet kiss on your forehead. "My shy girl, mm?"

"Sometimes it's just…hard to say what I'm feeling. I didn't want you to stop.” You hum. “I don't think I did."

Eddie considers that, still stroking at your hair. "Do you, uh, know what a safe word is?” You shake your head, and he continues. “S’kinda like a code. Something you can just say if you wanna press pause, you know? Means that instead of getting in that head of yours, trying to work out what you want, you can just say a word and we’ll talk about it, yeah?”

You consider it, imagining the scene if you'd been able to just say one thing and slow down. Easier not to have to think through what you need before you tell him, just say one word and let Eddie help you get there, coax from your head what you haven't worked out yourself. "That sounds good, Eddie." 

"Yeah?" He asks, eyebrows raising. “Okay. We can keep it simple for now. If we wanna stop completely, for any reason, we say red, yeah? If we need to slow down, talk a little about what we need, we say yellow. And green for keep going. How’s that sound?"

"Good," you say, feeling grateful that you’re learning all these things with Eddie. "It sounds good, but I- I am sorry that I'm, y'know. Difficult, sometimes."

Eddie blinks, eyebrows pulling together. "Difficult? My sweet girl? Nah. Besides," he leans in, closing one eye. "I like looking after you." 

You sigh happily when he kisses you, gentle and seeking nothing more than sweet presses. But you're still wet and wanting, hand rubbing across the softness of Eddie's tummy until your fingers draw across the sparse hair at the top of his pants. Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat that has you pressing your thighs together. 

"You wanna turn over, mm? Open those pretty legs for me?”

Yes. You love having Eddie on top of you and inside you. Better every time, as your body gets used to him, as Eddie learns how to draw pleasure from you, as you learn what makes Eddie gasp, makes his hips move desperately like you're the only thing he needs. 

But you pause. Now, comfortable in the knowledge that you know how to slow down, stop when you need to, you let yourself imagine Eddie behind you. His hips hitting the back of your thighs, his big hands holding your waist, arching your body just right to slide inside. Letting yourself be vulnerable with Eddie, the feeling of offering yourself up to him, the reward of his touch.

“I want to try, I just, I need-” You don’t know, exactly. You feel another wave of irritation at yourself, wishing you could be a little more simple. That you didn't need to cling to him that first time, that now you need him to work out this hurdle. 

Eddie hums, and the mattress shifts again as he sits up behind you. “Lift these hips for me again, sweet thing?” He asks, helping you shift your knees forward, tilting your body up for him. You hear the crinkle of him tearing open a condom, his soft sigh as he rolls it down over his cock. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs, hands smoothing your skirt up, exposing your hot flesh to the air. You shiver up your spine, but when Eddie grinds against you, what follows is his torso stretched along your back until you can feel him pressing wet kisses to your shoulder. The tension falls away, replaced by the tickle of Eddie’s hair at your neck, his sweet sting of his teeth nipping your shoulder, the sound of his pleased hums.

A final touch, his left hand grabs yours on the mattress, linking your fingers up and resting them in your eyeline. You know Eddie’s hands better than you know your own. Thick fingers adorned with a pig, a cross, a skull; all pale skin but for the subtle pink at his knuckles and around his nails. The veins that run from the end of his fingers to his wrist, the dip at the end of his thumb. 

“Better?” Eddie asks. You hum happily. You’re so blissfully wrapped up in him like this, surrounded and safe. Eddie’s right hand teases your clit again, presses gently at your entrance and finds you still went and wanting, bearing down at the first dip of his digits inside you. “Fuck, don’t worry, sweet thing. Gonna give you what you need, mm?”

“Eddie,” you say, his name a gentle plea.

“I know,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his. He reaches between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance, the head of his cock tapping torturously at your clit. You have half a mind to kick your legs out in impatience now, settle on whining at the back of your throat. Eddie breathes a laugh into your shoulder, but it shifts immediately to a groan as he presses inside. 

You’re still not entirely used to the feeling of him slowly filling you, the edge of pain still leading you to bear down on him, body stuck between desperations; to force him out or or pull him deeper. But then there’s the perfect ache of feeling full, the warmth and heaviness of him inside. 

Eddie’s hips roll, the wet sound of him pulling from you making your toes curl. He starts up a steady pace, easing your body into letting him slide deeper into your cunt with each thrust. His fingers return to the top of your sex, rubbing at your sensitive button. With every slow thrust, each stroke of your twitching clit, it feels like your body is opening up to him, easing the way for him to press deeper, push inside a little rougher. Your body flinches, tightens and loosens up all over when the end of his cock finds the back of your pussy, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. 

“Feel good?” He says, amusement in his tone. You moan freely, happy to be teased by him as long as he keeps touching you. “Tell me.”

“Feels good,” you parrot, staring at Eddie’s hand in yours, the slow movement of rose tone up his wrist, along to his knuckles as he heats up. You shiver to let in his warmth, his breath on your shoulder, his chest at your back. His cock, hot and thick, fucking you open.

“My good girl,” he murmurs, groaning at the way your cunt clamps down, gushing wet around his thick cock in thanks for his praise. “Christ. I shoulda known that was your favourite,” he breathes, his right hand pressing at your mound to angle your hips just so, helping his cock find the spot at the end of you that makes your thighs shake with every heavy push. “S’mine too.” 

His lips travel up the side of your neck to the top of your cheek, eyes finding yours when you turn to him. Eddie gives you a gentle pout at the sight of your mouth open to take gasping, whimpering breaths, your eyes fluttering when he starts to bully your clit in line with the increasingly harsh movements inside you. “You were fucking made for me,” he tells you. “You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You cry out, arms giving way underneath you when your body twitches all over, squeezing tight around Eddie’s invading cock. Your head drops into the mattress next to your joined hands, but you nod desperately, wanting him to see that you know perfectly well. That nobody could make you feel as good as Eddie does.

Eddie keeps your body angled how he wants, adjusting your hips to pull your back into an arch. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to look after, mine to touch. Mine to fuck-” He gives you a harsh thrust that makes your thighs twitch, legs close to giving out if he wasn’t holding you up with his arm under your stomach. “I wanna feel you cum, yeah? Think you can?” 

You’re still nodding, hand gripping his tight, fingers curled through his. 

“For me? Just for me?”

Always. Only for Eddie. You can’t say it, mind too far away to form the thought properly, but the feeling of him saying it like that, claiming your pleasure for himself as he drags it out of you with his cock, heavy and hot, and his hand playing with your clit, drives you over the edge. You mewl into the mattress, cunt clenching tight around his throbbing cock as your pleasure peaks.

Eddie makes a soft whimpering sound as you cum, following you down to bury his face in your shoulder. His hips move faster as he starts chasing his pleasure instead of focusing on yours, hand that was teasing your clit now stroking at your hip to soothe your sensitive, twitchy body. 

Hearing him now, gasping breaths, whimpers in your ear, you sink happily into this feeling. Almost as good as reaching your own peak, the knowledge that you’re making Eddie feel good. That this boy who treats you so well, dedicates himself to helping you find your pleasure, loses himself a little at the clench of your cunt around him.

You drag your clasped hands to your mouth, kissing at the pink skin of his knuckles. How could anybody not want this with him? How could anybody have given him up? You feel a sudden, desperate possession of him, the need to claim him like he claimed you.

“Mine,” you murmur, pressing your lips to the back of his hand in an array of gentle kisses. Your other hand reaches back to tangle in his hair, scratch at the back of his head as he whimpers. You crane your neck, searching for his eyes. They’re dark, shining as they take you in. His cock twitches inside you, and you squeeze his hand again. “Mine?”

His bottom lip shakes. “Yeah. M'yours. Yours, fuck-” He captures your lips but the kiss ends quick when he groans, hips stuttering in your warmth then sinking deep. You keep scratching at his neck as his body shakes through his orgasm, and still after when his weight drops on you and you fall flat to the bed together. You lie there for minutes, catching your breath, luxuriating in the feeling of being held by Eddie, pussy still clenching weakly around him.

Eddie hums, pulling from you slowly with another wet sound that makes you bury your face in your pillow. He rubs at your hip gently, squeezes your hand a final time before untangling from you to deal with the condom. You make a mental note to do something with that before tomorrow morning, but Eddie has your mind going wonderfully blank again when he bounces back beside you and pulls you in. You’re both a little sweaty, cheek a touch too hot against his chest, but you have no interest in cooling down if it means you have to stop touching him.

“Good?” He asks, fingers rubbing at your temple. You hum a long content sound in answer, not ready to form any coherent thought yet, and feel Eddie’s chest shake with laughter under your cheek. “Good.”

You lay like that, clammy and pleasured, convinced nothing could drag you from this bed.  Until you feel a quick pang in your stomach, and the quiet reverie is interrupted by a deep rumble. There’s a moment of silence, then Eddie snorts underneath you. You’d be embarrassed if his laugh didn’t make you want to follow his happiness, smiling shyly when he rubs gently at your tummy. “Hungry work, huh?” He asks, giggling. “Never fear, sweet thing. I can fix that.” He pauses then, licks his lips quickly. “Hey, you got a box of mac and cheese sitting around here, somewhere?”

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You flinch, watching with increasing horror as Eddie’s attempts to chop the onion you’d handed him. Fingers splayed and terrifyingly close the blade, you’re stuck between gently taking the knife from him and asking point blank how he’s managed to keep all ten fingers intact this long. 

“Do you want me to finish that?” You ask, frowning when he shakes his head, still fully concentrated on each dangerous movement, his tongue just poking out of his lips in a physical demonstration of his focus. 

If you weren’t so terrified, you’d be appreciating how soft and comfy Eddie looks right now. Black Sabbath t-shirt tucked into his jeans, socked feet ready to slide along your kitchen floor. His dark curls pulled back from his face and braided by your own hands, tied at the end with your favourite lilac scrunchie that you kind of hope he’ll keep.

But you can’t think about it, because you’re terrified Eddie’s going to ruin his musical career here in your kitchen, making pasta.

“No, need, sweet thing,” he assures. “This is a patented Munson technique for chopping onions.”

You could curse yourself for not having any boxed mac and cheese, for suggesting you cook something from scratch together in the first place. You’re used to cooking, with your Mom and Dad, with your friends, and eventually for yourself. But you get the sense that Eddie does a lot of microwaving, looking after himself the same way he has since he was a kid, at dinner time when Wayne is working nights.

“Eddie, can I?” You gently take the knife from him, turning the half of the onion left and chopping it with your thumb tucked in. 

He tilts his chin. “Lacks the adrenaline rush that comes with the Munson method,” he says when you’re done, watching you tip the contents of the chopping board into the heated pan on the stove. Then, a little sheepishly, “I, uh, I don’t cook much. If that wasn’t obvious.”

“You don’t like it, or?”

“I like this,” he answers. “And I make breakfast sometimes with Wayne. But not dinner, so much. He’s usually at the plant that time of day, so nobody ever taught me, I guess.” He pauses. “That’s not true. My mom and I used to cook, I think. Sometimes.”

You wait for a couple of seconds, watching the onions and garlic soften. “When you were a kid?”

“Yeah, we’d make stuff like this. Or, she would. I think I’d just watch mostly. Stir stuff, lick the spoon.”

“Best part,” you say, smiling. Then, watching him carefully. “Your Mom, she…?”

“She died,” he finishes with a shrug. He taps at the counter with his knuckles. “Then I lived with my old man, and he was not one for cooking lessons,” he laughs derisively. “Then one day the bastard dropped me off at Wayne’s. Best thing he ever did for me. Not that he cared either way, he was just sick of having me around.” Eddie finally looks at you then, and catches something in your expression that makes him wince, the laughter that follows clearly forced. “Christ, sorry. I’m really dumping on you today.”

“Don’t apologise, Eddie.”

“Nah, I shouldn’t have-” He shakes his head, tapping the counter again before resting his palms at the edge. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Eddie, of course it matters,” you say, turning off the stove to approach him, standing separated from his body by his arm reaching to the counter, keeping you from wrapping around him the way you want to. “Of course it matters.” 

Eddie shrugs again, and it’s another one of those moments where you wish you were more like him. Eddie always knows what to say, senses where you’re hurt and how to soothe it, knows when to talk and when to just hold you. 

But now that it’s your turn, you’re left feeling useless, stuck just wanting to cry at the thought that anyone has ever hurt him, made him feel like he has something to apologise for just for being around.

“I think you’re so wonderful, Eddie,” you say. “I want you around all the time.”

There’s a second of something. He turns to meet your gaze, searching your face with a frown. Then he gives you a small, barely there smile. The arm between you raises to let you close, wrap him up in a tight hug. You feel his body lose tension as he sighs, your hand stroking his back the way you know he likes. “I want you around all the time, too, sweet thing,” he says softly. “I really do.”

Next Chapter

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x shy!reader

[yandereforme]

Damian wayne? nah, Damian AL GHUL.

(in my perspective his al ghul blood is where he gets his yandare shii from cause yk..the al ghuls..it just fits right..)

(imagine if damian stayed in Nanda parbat)

so imagine damian going on an assasin mission in gotham and crosses paths with vigilante!reader(Female if possible xx) on the gotham rooftops where they get into a fight and for the first time, Damian loses, to a girl/woman and now he's obsessed interested in her, now I see him purposely taking missions that's from gotham just to see reader then just one night he plans a kidnapping, think several other assasins on standby so the kidnapping will be perfect and..idk anymore, I ran out of brain juice.(I'm gonna be honest this was my dream last night, and I woke up 💔)

ALSO IM SORRY IM JUST YAPPING I JUST WANTS TO TELL YOU THIS CAUSE MAYBE YOU CAN DO SOMETHING WITH IT CAUSE CAUSE I JUST LOVE YOUR WRITING 💔💔💔

also, me personally, Damian al ghul>damian wayne

I wanna ask without anon but I'm EMBARRASSED CAUSE IDK WHAT I TYPED SOUNDS LIKE WHEN SOMEBODY READS IT!! (and ik my grammar suckz ass cause English ain't my first language. far from that💔💔)

oh no I'm yapping again I'm so sorry

You are not a bother at all! I love this idea, and you don’t need to be embarrassed, that’s how I write most things lol.

Damian Al Ghul x Vigilante! Reader

I’m thinking he went to Gotham to scout out his father and his subordinates (they aren’t a focus in the post)

He completely forgets about them after he meets (and gets his butt kicked by you)

You are an independent vigilante, and you have always been that way. You avoid Batman and his birds, preferring to take care of things like human traffickers, muggings, abusers, etc.

That being said, you knew enough about the big stuff that the boy in ninja gear set off alarm bells. You were prepared for his attacks, and had your weapons at the ready

You were a badass, and wiped the floor with Damian, even pinning him down before other ninjas came out of the darkness, hellbent on you.

He yells at the others in Arabic and you take your chance to slip away. This was above your pay grade, and the Bat could deal with them. You needed to continue your patrol.

Damian was expecting an easy fight, but you surprised him. When you glared down at this boy, blood streaked across your face, eyes alight with hatred as you held him down, Damian fell hard.(I headcanon that Al Ghuls fall for/become yandere for strong fighters or general badasses, while Wayne’s tends to become yandere/protective over kindness/innocence due to their trauma)

Those idiots who interrupted his fight with his beloved were killed immediately, and he immediately set his sights on finding you again.

He found your vigilante work a worthy endeavor, but your civilian life was not up to par. You worked two jobs, both of which were meant to be taken on by peasants, not by important people like you. He admired and hated the fact you survived on your own, admiring your strength but despising what you had to do to survive.

This man will fight tooth and nail to get to go to Gotham at every opportunity. He prefers to watch you on patrol, and privately dispose of the simpletons you were surrounded by

After a while, when your room and all the supplies were prepared, only then did he set up your kidnapping. He approached you late at night, outside of your suit. You gave him another worthy fight, but this time he wasn’t going to let you get away, and knocked you out quickly.

When you wake, it will be to Damian sitting across from your bed, reading one of your favorite novels (he doesn’t like this kind of book, but as his beloved enjoys it, he will be learned on the subject).

Be prepared to have a life of being Damian’s Queen, Y/n Al Ghul. By the time you wake up, he will have already removed all traces of your past from the rest of the world, making sure you had nothing to go back to, if you were ever able to escape, so your best bet is to stay as his queen, and hopefully figure out a way out(you won’t escape.)

#yandere #yandere prompt #romantic yandere #yandere damian wayne #it can be read as fem or masc #non binary darling #yandere Damian Al Ghul

[mixelation]

reborn au, tori POV. lead up to a mysterious ANBU social lmao

“Wait,” Tori said, sitting up from where she’d sprawled out on the picnic blanket. “ANBU parties are real?”

“They’re boring,” Itachi told her, not even looking back at her as he made another throw with a kunai. He tossed a second one at it to redirect it at a new angle that would have been otherwise impossible to throw it at. As usual, he hit the bullseye. The target was shoved into the hollow of tree and angled downward; it was an impressive shot. 

“This one will be fun,” Shisui promised. “I told you. I’ll be there.”

 Itachi tilted his head back, considering. 

“I want to go,” Tori said, now sitting up fully. She thought “exclusive ANBU parties” were like… dumb rumors for people who desperately wanted ANBU to be cool. She was shocked this was a real thing ANBU actually did. But also, now that she was forced to accept they were real, she bet they were indeed incredibly boring, or at least deeply weird. She had to see for herself. 

“I’m not inviting you,” Shisui replied. “You’re not ANBU.”

“Itachi will invite me,” Tori decided. They went to social events as a couple now. That was kind of part of their whole deal. 

Shisui rolled his eyes. “Itachi can’t invite you,” he said. “It’s an ANBU event, not an ANBU-and-friends event.”

“I don’t see who would stop me,” Itachi said, moving slightly to the left so he could try his throw from an even weirder angle. “A few non-ANBU seem to sneak in every time anyway.”

Shisui clicked his tongue. 

“Why are you being such a killjoy?” Tori asked Shisui, annoyed. “You’re the one who crashed our date about this.” 

“Date…?” Shisui said. “I showed up and Itachi was training and you were reading porn.”

“This is related to the porn,” Itachi said, throwing his kunai. This time he only hit the edge of the bullseye. He frowned. 

“How is it…” Shisui started, then shook his head like he didn’t want to know. Itachi moved further away to make his throw even harder. “Anyway, my point is. It’ll be fun, even if Tori gets denied at the door.”

“I won’t be,” Tori said, dismissive. “They want Itachi there, right?”

Shisui’s lips thinned, but he did have a counter argument. Itachi was, to the confusion of everyone who knew him, considered sort of a big deal in most circles. Even though she was objectively correct. Tori found Shisui’s lack of argument disappointing. She already had “then I’ll convince Kakashi it would be funny, and then no force on this earth will be able to stop us” lined up and waiting. She loved pulling that one. It could make everyone from Shisui to the Hokage anxious in two seconds flat. 

Itachi’s kunai finally missed. 

“Here,” he said, finally turning to Tori. “This is an actual impossible shot.”

Tori hopped to her feet and stood where Itachi indicated. Then she chucked her kunai in the vague direction of the target. It sailed too low, then abruptly changed direction mid-air and slammed point-first into the target’s bullseye. 

Shisui’s eyes widened.

“See?” Tori said to Itachi. “The ‘fuinjutsu can only guide a kunai as well as the wielder can throw it’ thing is fake news. Even a civilian could have done that.”

She’d had to mark up the target and her kunai with like five different seals each, which made this particular maneuver basically useless in actual combat, but the scene in the book had been about carnival tricks anyway. Also, the confused look on Shisui’s face was hilarious. She wasn’t going to explain to him what was going on. 

Itachi, being a traitor, opened his mouth and immediately explained what was going on. 

“It did start as a picnic,” Itachi concluded of his explanation of their “date.” Halfway through lunch, Itachi had objected to the passage of Icha Icha Tori had read out loud as an actually impossible kunai throw, even though Tori’s point was that you totally could make an impossible shot by carefully applied fuinjutsu. 

If Shisui thought any of Itachi’s explanation was weird, he didn’t comment on it. This was basically the only thing Tori liked about Shisui: he could listen to Itachi’s insane comments and not even bat an eye. 

Shisui stayed around a little longer, not even remotely ashamed that he’d crashed what was ostensibly a private moment. The weather was gorgeous, which was why they’d picked a picnic instead of something more public, and their spot along the river was good for swimming. Shisui pulled off his uniform and did a running jump into the river. Tori watched Itachi stiffen as he hit the water and then relax when his head appeared again, alive and well and laughing. 

“You should go in too,” Tori told him. “I’ll be there in a second. I want to finish this chapter.”

They abandoned the river when a group of screaming Academy students showed up. Tori toweled dry, pondering if it would look weird if she invited Deidara to come back later that day. 

“Don’t you need to be practicing your aim more?” Itachi asked her while he gathered up their kunai. “Not just making elaborate seals to cheat?”

Tori blanched. “You don’t have to bring that up now,” she said. Not in front of Shisui.

“What’s wrong with your aim?” Shisui asked, teasing. “Is it actually bad, or have you accidentally fallen victim to the Itachi-adjusted rating system?”

“Please,” Tori replied. “We were genin together. Itachi hasn’t shut up about my aim since I was twelve. I’m fine; he’s just insane.” 

“She has a missive from the Hokage,” Itachi said blandly. 

“Itachi,” Tori hissed. 

“Really?” Shisui asked. “Huh. How’d that happen?”

It wasn’t uncommon to get an official assignment from the Hokage’s office to foster a specific skill to benefit the village. But usually it was something unique: training a bloodline limit, developing a combat style that was rare or specially valuable, practice with an unusual weapon, stuff like that. “Practice with kunai” was a very weird thing to get a Hokage-level missive for; it was more like something a captain would tell a subordinate. 

Also, given that Tori was a Special Jounin, it was an embarrassing thing to pitch as a skill she had to work on. That was the type of order you gave to a new genin, or a chunin that’d spent too many days doing desk work. 

Her kunai skills were perfectly on par for her rank, thank you very much. It was just that Itachi was a freaky genius whose favorite hobby was doing trickshots, and his standards were insane.  Minato just wanted her to push herself from good to exceptional, not just with standard kunai but with specialized ones, because she was learning Hiraishin and he wanted her to be able to use it the way he did. 

Tori wasn’t sure she was going to just copy him, once she had the actual jutsu mastered. It didn’t really feel like her style. But then again, she almost never thought about how to apply her research and jutsu to combat until she was actively staring a threat in the face, and being able to slap a seal onto a kunai and throw it wherever she wanted was undeniably a vital skill. She would do the extra practice without complaint. 

But Itachi didn’t have to run his mouth about it!

They walked back to the village proper together, taking the windy foot trail rather than hopping into the trees. A lazy day, indeed. 

“I’m going to walk Tori home,” Itachi said once they hit the paved streets of Konoha. He very pointedly took Tori’s hand. 

“Sure,” Shisui said. “See you tomorrow night?”

“He’ll be there,” Tori promised. 

Shisui, she would begrudgingly admit, was an extremely charismatic and friendly guy that most people fell in love with on sight. But, in her experience, most ANBU she’d meet were anti-social weirdos with personalities like burnt toast. She absolutely needed to see what their weird-ass parties were like. For science. 

Itachi dropped her hand the second Shisui was out of sight. It wasn’t that they didn’t like each other; it was just that neither of them really saw the point in hand-holding. Tori didn’t like how doing it for more than a couple minutes made her palm sweaty, and Itachi had more than once said something wild like, We would mutually improve our defensive capabilities with both hands free.

Plenty of couples didn’t hold hands, Tori was sure. It was just very important to Itachi to be carrying a metaphorical sign that said, I AM TAKEN. DO NOT APPROACH. 

“It would be convenient if you did get denied at the door,” Itachi said conversationally. “Then we could leave. If we did it together, we’d seem united without doing any real work.”

“But I want to go,” Tori said. “I want to study your little ANBU guys under a microscope, like a petri dish of amoebas.”

“Don’t tell them that,” Itachi said, a tiny little smile cracking over his face. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you special treatment,” Tori said. “I’d tag my Itachi-amoeba with red fluorescent protein.”

Itachi snorted with amusement.

#my writing #reborn au

[starlordsandrockets]

The Bet

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+ , fake dating

word count: 9k

summary: You find yourself in attendance of a Gala with Peter Parker as your (fake) date. The two of you end up making a bet: Peter tries to make you fall for him by the end of the night.

a/n: sorry, i found myself in the worst case of writer’s block i’ve had in awhile. ANYWAY, i hope this makes up for it

“All I’m saying is that you’re going to look ridiculous,” Tony spoke. The rim of an almost empty glass of whiskey sat against his smiling lips, “Even Nat’s bringing a date and you two are two sides of the same coin. I don’t see how you can’t put up with a man for just one night,” Your gaze made him choke on his drink slightly, “or, or a woman?” He questioned, unsure of the reason for your deadly glance.

“I-I could get a date,” You stuttered, bringing your own glass to your lips. You crossed your legs, the black dress sat tightly against your knees. A pair of equally dark heels sat on your feet. The shoe dangled off your elevated foot, “I just chose to go stag, more of my vibe, you know,” You laughed it off.

“You’re a real lone wolf,” Tony spoke, “Are those still called bitches? Or is that just dogs?”

“Fuck off,” You groaned, finishing off your glass, “I’ll find a guy at the gala, alright. Spare me,”

“No, spare me,” Tony spoke, placing a hand on his chest dramatically, “Stark bringing along a virgin of an intern. All brain and no game,” He almost slurred, “But I guess that modest dress makes you kind of sexy in a mysterious way,”

“Forgive me for not breaking out my little black dress,” You told him, “It’s a gala. At an art museum, it’s not like we’re going to some night club”

“Oh, we’re not?” Tony questioned, “Then why are you totally pregaming with me right now,” He poured you another glass of whiskey with a shit eating grin.

“It’s the only way I can deal with you,” You admit with a smile, “This way you get a little more tolerable,”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Tony spoke, raising another glass. However, his toast was cut short as someone caught his eyes, “Ah! Pete! Perfect, absolutely perfect,”

You turned your head, your loose, y/h/c waves twirling, “Come on, Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, a sigh passed through his lips as he noticed Tony’s buzzed state, “There’s still like, an hour ‘til we leave,”

“Yeah! Perfect, enough time for you to have a drink with us,” Tony smiled, walking towards Peter. He took hold of Peter’s arm, dragging him into the lounge.

Peter wore a black suit, nothing fancy besides the luxury brand Tony had paid for. His hair was gelled into place and it made you laugh to yourself, “What?” Peter questioned as he heard you almost giggle. A subtle blush sat on his freckled nose. A drink found a way into his hand as he stared at you, “Mr. Stark, you know I won’t feel a thing from this,”

“Humor me, kid,” Tony spoke, “Er- us,” He motioned towards you.

You were reclined on Tony’s expensive couch as you bounced the heel that sat loosely on your foot, “Please, I’m being held here against my will,” You spoke, making Peter smile. You extended your arm, placing it on the back of the couch. Stretching, you pinched your shoulder blades without a thought. However, Peter’s thoughts were racing, the position pushing out your chest, drawing all of Peter’s attention to you. He did not think you could consume any more of his thoughts than you already did, but here he was. Knocking back whatever liquid was in the glass Tony had given him, he swallowed it in hopes of also swallowing his dirty thoughts. As he expected, it did not work.

“Y/N needs a date tonight,” Tony spoke as you took a large sip, making you instantly choke. The action was not comical, like in the movies and books, but had you embarrassingly gasping for air and coughing up a lung, “As charming as she is in this very moment, do you think you could do me a favor and not let her show up like that,” Tony spoke, “She’s my intern and I’d hate to have her overshadowed by me, and Pepper, of course. So what better than my intern showing up with my totally-not-an-Avenger, and totally real intern,”

“Are you sure this isn’t another, against her will sort of situation?” Peter questioned as you continued to cough, physically unable to say no.

“She’s not objecting,” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving him a drunken shake.

***

“After the carpet, I’m finding the drinks and leaving your ass,” You spoke, “I don’t care if people think I’m alone, okay.”

“Yeah… right,” Peter spoke as he sat next to you in the long limo. The two of you sat somewhat isolated from the others. The group was paired off and in their own world, leaving the two of you to realize just how alone you really were, “Me too, I wanted to come alone anyway,”

“Me too,” You added, repeating your previous claim. Your hand found the vodka cranberry that the limo’s bar provided, “I’ve always been alone,” You informed as you brought the glass to your lips, “Why start now,”

***

You felt your stomach turn as the camera flashed. You had yet to place a single one of your black heels on the red carpet of the gala and you instantly regretted the drinks you downed to calm your nerves, “Hell no,”

“You’ll be fine,” Peter spoke, “They probably won’t even bother us if Mr. Stark’s around, not to mention everyone else,” He spoke, “Literally everyone but us,”

“That makes me feel so much better,” You almost laughed, “Thanks,” Your word was blunt. You were used to being in others' shadows. You rushed before Peter, wanting to spend the night the way you were used to: alone.

“Hey,” Peter spoke, unsure how he had upset you. 

Since Peter could remember, you had always been standoffish, never reaching out for company at the compound. Always shutting yourself off in the lab, you would get your work done and leave if it was not too late of a drive. You would crash on the couch whenever Tony refused to let you leave after 1am. Tony never wanted to feel guilt of you overworking yourself in the lab only for you to fall asleep at the wheel on your drive home.

Peter recalled the sight of you sprawled out on the lounge’s large couch, a blanket tossed over you as it barely covered your exposed skin. Peter could not help falling for you after he caught that sight more than a few times. He had helped you through a few too many drinks, holding your hair as you emptied your night into Stark’s million dollar toilet. Peter was unsure if you remembered nights like that.

Peter knocked into you, bringing him back to reality as you stood frozen in front of the flashing cameras, “You’re Tony Stark’s intern, aren’t you?” Someone from the crowd questioned, voice booming over the other shouts, “Is it true you work on the Avenger’s upgrades?” The man asked.

“Y/N calls all the shots for Avengers’ upgrades,” Peter spoke next to you. Your head spun, not only from the attention, but towards Peter, “I- They’d be lost without her,”

He was not wrong. You fixed nearly all the flaws you found in Spider-Man’s suit. They were only flaws due to Peter’s way of thinking. Tony had designed the AI with himself in mind and not Peter, “Smile,” Peter whispered in your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. You could barely see, the white flashes blinding you. Reaching out, Peter placed his hand on the small of your back. Your lips parted, about to snap a sarcastic remark at Peter’s advancement, however, you felt his clammy hold through your dress’s thin fabric, making you smile.

***

“So,” You said, “You’d be lost without me?” Your question teased Peter as the two of you finally made your way into the gala’s main room.

“I can admit it,” Peter spoke, “I don’t have some weird complex like you, or Mr. Stark,”

“Don’t compare me to Tony,” You told him, still a little buzzed from not only the alcohol in your system but also the camera flashes, “God, if I get that bad kill me,”

“If you didn’t fix my suit, I might have by accident,” Peter admitted. He had eventually gotten the hang of his suit’s AI, however the changes you had made allowed him to fully master his potential, “but, yeah,” His words were smooth, “I would be lost without you, honestly,”

“Including now?” You questioned, now realizing you did not wish to face the night alone. Especially now that you have seen the amount of older men that would surely harass you if you found yourself alone, “so, leaving you behind would be a terrible idea,”

“Absolutely terrible,” Peter played along, a smile threatening to curl his lips. He knew your games and when you were hiding your true emotions, “I’m not sure if I could make it through this boring gala by myself. You’d be doing me a huge favor,”

“Yeah?” You questioned, “Then you owe me,” Your eyes searched for any amount of food you could ingest before you had more drinks to get you through the night.

“How is that fair?” Peter laughed, however, he had not made it known that he knew the facade you were putting up, “You know what, fine,” He gave in, “I owe you, whatever you ask,” As soon as the words left his lips he caught you smile, “No, no, no,” He rambled as he heard you laugh.

“Oh you can’t take it back,” You laughed, “This is going to be fun,” Peter followed you at your heels as you searched the huge gallery for food or drinks, “Maybe I’ll hold this over your head for a while,”

“Y/N,” Peter groaned, meeting your eyes. His regret faded as soon as he saw your smiling eyes and grinning lips. He was just glad that you were having a good time.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Your name was called out, attracting your attention as well as Peter’s to a man who seemed to be in his late thirties. He was cute. Peter must have read your mind, or maybe caught on to your swooning gaze, as his hand found the small of your back once again, “Pardon my interruption,” the man questioned Peter’s touch.

“No interruption,” You spoke, stepping out of Peter’s warm touch, “Just simply company, to get me through the night,” Peter stiffened at your words but your back faced him, unable to see the consequence of your claim, “Y/N Y/L/N,” You spoke, extending your hand.

The man smiled at Peter’s misfortune, “I’m glad to have caught you, I’m the gallery’s director,” He watched as your eyes lit up for a moment, “Phil Weston,” Phil introduced, “I was wondering if we could rent some of your work. Give you your own exhibition,” He watched as you stumbled over your thoughts before him, “Or should I be going through your assistant here?” He motioned towards Peter, “That’s what you are right?” He almost degraded.

“I’m a little more than that,” Peter spoke, unable to shine light on just how important he truly is. But you knew, he was sure you would back him up.

“Sure,” Phil spoke, “Well, Y/N,” Turning, he retrieved a tall glass from a woman who appeared behind him mid conversation. The glass of champagne made its way into your hand, your rings knocking against the thin glass. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small card, “Here’s my card,”

“Thanks Weston,” You smiled around the glass. Sticking the card between your two fingers, you flashed it to Peter, “Keep this safe for me,” You jokingly instructed, “assistant,” You heard Phil laugh as he departed.

“You’re ridiculous,” Peter spoke, not taking the card out of your grasp. The dark paper still waved in front of his face.

“Me?” You questioned with a bat of your lashes, with a smile you took a large sip of your drink.

“I know we’re playing a part here,” Peter spoke, “but you’re just standing there while that guy humiliates me,”

“I’m not playing a part,” You told Peter, “I call the shots, remember. And you owe me, I could have said something but then you’d owe me even more,” Alcohol coated your words as you studied the Avenger. A laugh bubbled between your lips as you began to tuck the business card into the small purse that sat at your side, “Forget it, Parker,” You informed, finishing off your champagne, “just help me find something else to drink,”

“I think you should eat something,” Peter spoke. Watching you walk away from him he reached out, taking hold of your wrist, “I mean, with how much you’ve been drinking,”

“Are you worried about me?” You asked with a sly smile, “I know you’re my fake date, but you don’t have to act like it,” Your eyes found a large table ordained with finger foods and drinks, “but I’ll humor you,”

“I just don’t want you finding yourself doing something you regret,” Peter spoke, thinking of Phil. He knew that you had more confidence when you drink. Hell, he hated it. You flirted with Peter almost every time you had one too many but in the morning the two of you could be mistaken as strangers, “Or make a complete fool of yourself,”

“That so?” You questioned as the two of you crossed the tiled floor of the museum.

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Peter spoke from where he followed at your heels, “Little do you know, I have a decent amount of blackmail on half the compound. Sure it sucks that I can’t get drunk like the rest of you but, not going to lie, I think I have more fun watching you all make fools of yourselves,”

“What are you, a masochist?” You tease as you turn to him, drink in hand. You caught Peter’s stern glance, “Right, right,” You raised your free hand, retrieving a small sandwich, “See, food,” You stuffed the sandwich between your red lips, “Yum,” You spoke sarcastically, mouth full of food.

“How’d I land such a classy date?” Peter questioned, taking a drink from the table. He knew the alcohol would not affect his system but he did not want to look out of place.

“You wish you could land me,” You washed your food down with a large sip of wine.

“Ouch,” Peter spoke around his wine glass. He was unsure if he was just experiencing placebo from the wine but found himself speaking with newfound confidence, “I could land you… if I wanted,”

“Yeah?” You laughed, “I’d like to see that,” You admitted. You would be lying if you said you did not find Peter attractive. You have seen him at work, in the gym, you have seen him change in and out of his suit right in front of you. Peter might have not known but each time, you glanced at his toned body and mentally drooled. You would not mind if Peter pursued you, you just knew better. Peter was awkward and did not show much interest in you until tonight. He was just doing you a favor, keeping you company. He never spoke to you in the compound besides when he needed to, or when he said hello whenever the two of you passed each other in the large building, “But I know better,” You smiled, “know you better,”

“You think I won’t?” Peter questioned, watching you shrug your bare shoulders. He watched as another glass found its way into your hand, making his job a lot easier. You were a horny drunk and he was about to use that to his favor.

“Are you betting me?” You questioned almost excitedly, “Is this a bet? Please tell me you’re giving me another thing to hold over your head,”

“Sure, it’s a bet,” Peter spoke, taking another sip of wine, “But you have to be completely honest with me. No burying your feelings for me,” He informed, “Any time I ask, you have to tell me exactly how you feel,”

You almost gagged, but Peter was right, you should play fair, “Fine,” You rolled your eyes, feeling yourself begin to sway, “When’s the game start?”

“Right now,” Peter spoke, finishing off what was in his glass. Setting it down, he took yours from your grasp watching you shoot him an angry glance, “and you need to start off by telling me exactly how you feel about me,” His words were smooth, somehow forgetting that he normally had to build up the courage to just say hello to you but in this moment he was closing the space between the two of you, “I want to know what kind of a chance I even have,”

“I don’t think you have to work too hard,” You smiled, your lips beginning to numb. You stared up at Peter. Your eyes were able to count almost every freckle on his boyish face and god did you want to kiss them. Kiss him, even, “I’m kind of drunk,”

“Yeah,” Peter smiled, “I figured that much Y/N,” He whispered as if it was a secret.

“And it’s making you look cuter,” You whispered back, watching your words shoot through his heart like an arrow, freezing him in his tracks, “Even cuter than before,”

“Good to know,” Peter muttered to himself as he watched you take the wine glass back from his hand, your fingers brushing against his clammy hand.

***

“How’s the lone wolf holding up,” Tony questioned as he had excused himself from a conversation Pepper found herself in; checking in on you and Peter, but mostly you. Tony’s eyes followed you as you swayed, Peter’s hand supporting your lower back, “I see you’re holding her up,” He motioned towards Peter as you took another sip of wine, “How much has she had,”

“I lost count, but you know her,” Peter spoke, “She’s almost as bad as you,” He somewhat joked, watching Tony smile.

“I’m fiiiinne,” Your voice drew out, “I’m just bored, so I’m drinking. Sue me,” You groaned, turning to Peter, you studied him and how close he stood next to you, “Can we go dance,”

Peter’s eyes widened as he met Tony’s gaze. Tony sent him a suggestive gaze, “Yeah Pete,” He smirked, “You two should go dance, that’d be a much easier way to hold her up,”

“Pleaase,” You almost begged, “I can’t drink if I’m dancing,” You set your glass down, throwing up your hands in your defense.

“I guess that’s true,” Peter agreed, “Excuse us,” He spoke to Tony who sent him a lovey-dovey look, “Mr. Stark, please,” He muttered, leading you away from Tony and to the gala’s live string quartet.

“I love the violin,” You drunkenly gushed, “I’ve always wanted to play,” You twirled out of Peter’s hold as you entered the floor, bumping into a couple who slowly swayed to the sound. A laugh bubbled from your lips.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spoke, “Sweetheart, be careful,” He played along with your roles for the night.

“Hm, sweetheart?” You questioned as his hands fell against the fabric of your dress, “Out of all the pet names, you pick sweetheart?”

“What? You want me to call you dear? Like we’re sixty and unhappy,” Peter’s claim made you laugh, “I know better than to call you baby,” He spoke quietly, watching your nose wrinkle, “That’s what I thought,”

“It’s just so formal,” You teased, “I thought the gala was formal enough, but sweetheart? I’m swooning, darling,”

“Ah, darling,” Peter spoke as you brought a new pet name to light, “I still think sweetheart fits you,” The two of you moved in sync without a second thought as your conversation could barely be heard over the romantic strings.

“I know,” You smiled, “I’m a delight, the sweetest at the compound,” You played along.

“No,” Peter continued, “I think that’s Mr. Stark. But you’re a close second,” He spun you in his hold. His eyes studied you as you twirled before him, your hair bouncing as you smiled, a laugh falling between your lips. Your red lipstick no longer sat evenly on your skin from the amount of drink you had. Peter wondered if he should tell you, wondering if you wished to reapply the seductive red shade, however his eyes took you in instead, “You’re pretty,” The words slipped almost silently past his lips.

In an attempt to cover his claim, Peter pulled you back in, making your head spin. His action was quick, or so you thought, maybe you were just drunk, “Did you- did you just?” You stuttered, somehow his quiet claim made your heart flutter slightly. Peter’s dominant hand left the small of your back as it found its way to the side of your neck.

“How do you feel about me right now?” Peter questioned, it took everything in him to hold your eye contact, his body begging his gaze to fall to the necklace that sat against your skin.

You stared into his brown eyes, his gaze reflected sickly sweet puppy love back into your lone glance, “You called me pretty,” Was all you managed to speak, lost in Peter’s imploring gaze.

“Yeah… yeah I did. And how’d that make you feel?” Peter questioned, “Do you like it when I call you pretty?” He was no longer hesitant, realizing you probably will not remember most of the night, in the morning. Peter stared at your stunned expression, taken aback by his words, “You’re not saying no,”

“I’m just-“ You stuttered. The room twirled and you were unsure if it was from your moving feet or Peter’s sweet words. Returning to Peter’s hold, your hand fell to his chest defensively.

“I-I didn’t think you could get any prettier,” Peter spoke, words intertwining with the playing strings. Clearing his throat, he attempted to recover from his stuttered claim. Although he we determined to win your bet, you always managed to make him nervous, “Your hair looks nice curled and your eyes,” Peter rambled, “Your eyes are somehow making me more nervous than usual,” Your gaze was soft and intent, “and your dress,”

“Spare me,” You spoke, “Tony already gave me shit,” Your fingers fell from the fabric of Peter’s suit, touch trailing. Hand falling, it smoothed over the curve of your hip, “I guess I should have gone shorter,” Your eyes found a handful of women in short dresses.

“No-” His voice was almost desperate, “no- I mean. I like this dress,” He watched you raise your brows, eyes narrowing. Peter pulled you closer to him, building up the courage to express his next claim, “I’d rather think about what’s under it,” His voice was somehow smooth, “rather than seeing you in a short dress,”

“Y-Yeah?” You questioned, looking up at Peter’s blushed complexion. You felt your system warm, the alcohol still having an effect over you, “Want to see what’s under it?”

“W-What?” Peter questioned, his dancing pace slowing, “Y/N,” He laughed nervously. You were doing it again, being a horny drunk, “You’re drunk,”

“And you’re winning,” You admitted, “as much as I hate to say it,” The two of you stood on the dancefloor as the others danced around you. Your hands found their way to Peter’s chest, snaking up to his neck until your fingertips brushed against his warm cheeks, “You’re hot,”

“Y/N,” Peter spoke your name, as if he was trying to make sure that all of this was not a dream.

“Bathroom,” You interrupted.

“What?” Peter questioned, wondering if he heard you correctly, “Bathroom?” He watched you nod, feeling nerves rush through him, thinking all that alcohol finally caught up to you, “Yeah- yeah okay,” He helped you navigate your way off the dancefloor.

“Slow down,” You spoke, a little out of breath from keeping up with Peter’s gate in your heels.

Peter felt your fingers tickle against his skin, not realizing he had grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowds. He felt his confidence begin to crumble as he grew further and further away from the crowd.

The two of you traveled down the museum’s large stairs to the lower galleries and bathrooms. You felt the room begin to spin as you attempted to navigate the large concrete steps, “Shit,” You laughed, “These stairs are going to kick my ass,”

“Here,” Peter spoke, his hand fell from your hold. Reaching out, he wrapped an arm around you.

His hold steadied you but equally weakened your knees. Peter’s fingers dug into your shoulder as you looked towards him.

“What?” Peter questioned. Your gate slowed as you studied his face. You never thought he could get more handsome, but here he was helping you down a large staircase like you were some princess in a giant castle. 

Did that make him the prince? Of course it did.

“I’m fucked,” You laughed, your claim was under your breath, however Peter’s hearing still picked up on it.

The claim, unknown to him, was because you found yourself falling even harder for him; however, he thought you were about to get sick. Slipping his free hand behind your knees, he easily scooped you up, literally sweeping you off your feet.

“What are you-“ You felt your face heat up at the sudden advancement, “What if someone sees- there’s cameras-“

Peter did not respond, he was far too focused on getting you to the bathroom. The remaining flight of stairs passed quickly under his shiny black shoes. Turning the stair’s corner, he brought you to the bathroom door that was tucked under the concrete stairs.

“What-What was that?” You questioned, hands gripping Peter’s shoulder, while the other found his hand that gripped underneath your thigh.

“I- What? What do you mean?” Peter questioned right back, “I thought you had too much to drink,”

“I just wanted to freshen up,” You stared back at him, realizing just how close the two of you were.

“Oh,” Peter spoke, embarrassment reddened his ears as he stared right back at you. Walking towards the wall, he pressed your open back against the concrete wall.

“Pete-“ You vocalized as the cold wall touched your heated skin. Your back arched away and towards him in his hold. Realizing your tone, your gaze fell to the floor.

Peter watched as your chest rose and fell heavily in front of him. The skin of your chest was peaking out with each intake, and it silently begged for his lips. He wanted to kiss you- well, he wanted to kiss you every moment he spent with you- but especially in this moment. Rounding his shoulders he brought his face in front of your downturned gaze. He grew closer and closer with each passing moment, eyes fixed on your own. He breathed a shaken breath, palms growing sweating as he inched closer to your lips.

Like ripping off a bandage, Peter was quick and rough. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the museum’s wall. You groaned against him in response to the impact, before kissing him back slightly. However, before you could fully reciprocate, you heard a pair of heels descending the stairs.

“Peter-” You stuttered against his lips, hands pushing against his chest. You buried yourself further into the wall in an attempt to escape his advancement, “Get- Let go-” You watched as your words finally registered in Peter’s brain, his hands dropping you to the floor. You struggled to keep your balance in your black heels. Without a thought, you turned and rushed off into the bathroom.

You placed your hands on the porcelain sink as you stared at yourself in the mirror. If you were not wearing makeup you would have probably splashed your face with cold water, or hell, you would have even slapped some sense into yourself. Suddenly the sound of the bathroom door made you stand up straight. You did not dare to turn your head, to check if it was Peter. You watched as a woman, a little older than you, smiled at you through the mirror. You gave her a weak smile in return, head still spinning in response to the kiss.

You needed to pull yourself together. You were slipping right into Peter’s grasp, not that it was a bad thing, you were just way too competitive. You wanted to win. Opening your small purse, you removed your lipstick. As you applied the shade to your lips, you were far too lost in thought. Staring back at yourself, you were surprised to see that you had mindlessly applied the satin formula.

The woman who had made her way into the bathroom now stood next to you at the sinks. You rubbed your lips together, blending the color evenly, “Having a good night?” You questioned her, preparing yourself for any conversation you would have with Peter.

“Oh yes,” She smiled, washing her hands gingerly, not wanting to bump her diamond bracelets against the porcelain, “I’m sorry for asking- you probably hear this a lot but, what is it like working for Tony Stark?”

**

Peter rocked up and down on his expensive dress shoes. You were taking fairly long. Peter had already calmed himself down in the men’s room after your heated kiss. But now, he knew he would have had time to relieve himself instead. What was wrong with him? It would not have been the first time he had touched himself to the thought of you, but it still felt wrong.

He kicked at the concrete floor, frustrated that your kiss was interrupted so quickly. Suddenly, Peter was pulled out of his thoughts as you exited the bathroom with the woman. You laughed beside her as you locked eyes with Peter, “It was a pleasure talking to you, Y/N,” The woman smiled, lightly setting a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry for keeping her,” She spoke to Peter.

Peter nodded out of courtesy as the two of you watched her climb the large stairs, “What was that about?” Peter questioned, taken aback by the sound of his own voice.

“Oh,” You spoke almost too casually, “She was asking me about Tony. Wanted to know what he’s like outside of the public eye, you know?”

“Yeah?” Peter laughed slightly, “I can imagine you only said nice things,” He joked, knowing how you and Tony bicker, “Obviously,”

“Oh of course,” You joked back. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. You watched Peter laugh beside you, leaning into you, and that is when you remembered the kiss. You must have visibly stiffened because it caused Peter to freeze as well.

“Y/N,” Peter spoke, watching you hesitate to meet his eyes.

You wanted to touch him, pull him against you and into the kiss that was so rudely interrupted. You wanted him to fill your free time, to watch his eyes squint whenever he smiled at your crude, dry humor, “You win,”

“What?” Peter questioned, laughing slightly. Then it registered, the smile faded on his lips and a slight red flush occupied his ears and cheeks, “Oh,”

“Yeah,” You nodded slowly, “It pains me to say it, but,” You groaned, “God I hate this,” You felt Peter’s fingers tickle the skin of your wrist. Your gaze flashed to the skin on skin contact and then the bathroom door.

“What?” Peter questioned again.

“Peter,” You motioned towards the door with your eyes.

“W-Wha- No! Y/N,” Peter stuttered, “No,” His voice was assertive as you almost pouted in front of him.

You bounced on your feet, silently pleading with him. He stood his ground, “Fine. But maybe I’ll change my mind later,”

“I don’t think you will,” Peter spoke, watching you physically wither, “Come on,” He took your hand and began to lead you up the staircase. You reluctantly followed at his heels, dreading what was to come next.

***

You have made it through three separate conversations with complete strangers, all while Peter’s hand rested on the small of your back. To make matters worse, you now locked eyes with Tony. The fake smile that once parted your lips completely faded in his presence, “The kid still needs to be holding you up?” Tony teased as you gave Pepper a genuine smile.

“Pepper, I don’t know how you put up with him,” You spoke, “Sadly I’m sober,” Tony raised a brow at your statement, watching Peter’s hand return to his side.

“I’m surprised she didn’t bite your hand off,” Tony smiled as a woman approached your group with a tray of champagne, “Thank you,” He spoke to her before he passed the group glasses. He brought his lips around the rim of the thin glass, “You starting to warm up to my intern?”

“He’s tolerable company,” You smiled back, taking a large sip of champagne, “Couldn’t say the same about you though,” The tension between you and Tony hung in the air as Peter and Pepper both apologized to each other silently.

“Why don’t we get some air,” Peter suggested, hand returning back to you. He watched you finishing what remained in your glass before giving him a pressed smile.

“Sure,” You nodded, “Nice seeing you Pepper,” Your eyes did not dare fall over to Tony. You watched his hold tighten on Pepper as Peter’s did the same to you.

The two of you made your way towards a secluded exit, avoiding the paparazzi that waited for everyone outside, “Can’t you just play nice for a night?” Peter questioned after your long silence.

“It’s not like- He does that shit on purpose,” You spoke, motioning back towards the door you found yourself outside, “He always has something to say- something to get under my skin. And it’s not like you stepped in and told him to stop,”

“I like seeing you all worked up,” Peter spoke, not realizing how his claim sounded until it passed through his lips. You looked up at him, “Not- Not in a weird way- Well-“ He stuttered. Peter did like it in a weird way. He liked seeing you flustered.

You watched Peter stumble over his words, his gaze falling off of you, “Mm,” You hummed, your tone was teasing.

“I said not in a weird way,” Peter spoke, watching you lean into his, studying his blushed skin, “Y/N,”

“How then?” You questioned, “I’m dying to know,” Bringing your fingertips to a hair that hung against his forehead, pushing it back into his gelled hair, “Your hair looks so dumb,” You teased.

Taking your wrist, he brought you around the building’s corner, out of sight from anyone who would exit the door. He listened to your mumbled complaints before he took hold of both of your arms. Peter pushed you against the concrete building. The cool surface made you hiss before Peter’s hands snaked up your arms to your face. He cupped your cheeks roughly as he brought his lips to yours for a second time.

And you were so glad he did.

Your hands found his black tie, tugging on it. You loosened the fabric, feeling Peter sigh out of relief. You do not know why you started undressing him, but now your fingers fumbled against his white shirt’s small buttons, “Hey, hey,” He almost laughed against your lips, “Slow down,”

“I just want to touch you,” You admitted, pushing aside the white fabric, studying the soft skin of his neck and chest.

“I thought you loved Prada,” Peter joked. He watched you study the suit. Your eyes scanned his body before falling right back to his skin. Little did you know, Peter had asked Tony specifically for a Prada suit after he heard you obsessing over their latest campaign.

“I-I do.” You spoke, “But… I told you- You win,” Your hands held both sides of his shirt’s collar, “Swing me somewhere,”

Peter watched as you pulled yourself closer, your eyes studying his lips. He was clearly an idiot, not acting on impulse. Peter had wanted you for so long, and he hated how this was all happening now, “I, I don’t have my suit on me,” He rambled, watching you pout in front of him. Words mumbled past your lips as you tried to protest, “It’s not like I can just swing you off as Peter Parker, Y/N, I’m an intern tonight. Right? So I can’t just swing you through the city to do whatever I want to you,”

The words fell from Peter’s lips, making yours curl into a subtle smile, “What would you do?”

“What?” Peter questioned, watching you lean back against the building.

“You’d do whatever you wanted to me?” You repeated, “What would you do to me?” Peter stood, disheveled in front of you. His once pressed and buttoned shirt was wrinkled by your hands.

Peter took a step back from you, “Please,” He mumbled, fixing the collar of his shirt. Your eyes studied him before wandering, “What?”

That is when you spotted Tony’s empty limo.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice warned as you took hold of his wrist.

“Please?” You questioned, dragging him towards the parked limo.

“Someone will see,” Peter argued back, however, he still allowed you to drag him into the lot of limos and cars.

“Yeah, in a self driving, tinted, bomb and bullet proof limo,” Your words were sarcastic and the two of you neared the limo, “Friday,” You spoke, reaching out to the limo’s hidden keyboard.

“Y/N,” The system responded, “How may I be of service?”

“Unlock the limo please,” Your hand slipped from Peter’s wrist to his sweating palm.

“Mr. Stark has installed a security protocol for you entering the limo,” Friday explained, making you scoff, “The question is: Who is the world’s greatest boss?”

Your lips pressed into a line as you dreaded answering the question, “Tony Stark,”

“Incorrect,” Friday spoke, making you groan out loud.

Your hold on Peter’s hand tightened, “He made me say it and then- and then he just made the answer some bullshit I won’t figure out-“ You felt Peter’s fingers slip between your own, calming you for a moment, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, Friday,” Peter spoke, “Hey. It’s- It’s me, Peter,”

“Hello Peter,” Friday spoke.

“Yeah, h-hi. Would you be able to let us in please?”

“Of course, Peter,” The two of you watched as the limo door opened.

Turning towards you, Peter studied your annoyed expression, “Still want to go in?” He questioned with sweaty palms.

“I’m not letting Tony kill the mood,” You scoffed, bending your shoulders in order to enter the low limo, “I bet he planned this,”

Peter followed you, listening to your mumbled complaints, “Friday, could you go offline? Please?”

”Of course Peter,” The system spoke, “All audio and video recording will be offline until further instructions,” You whipped your head towards Peter, pampered hair twirling slightly, “Uh- Unless you don’t want to do anything anymore,”. He felt his heart rate begin to accelerate as you crawled towards him on the leather seat.

“I thought there was so much you wanted to do to me,” You teased, watching Peter’s shoulders stiffen slightly, “Unless you don’t,”

“I do,” Peter spoke at an embarrassing rate, “I mean… yes,” His words slowed as he studied the fabric of your dress. His gaze trailed over the dark fabric until it found your neckline, the fabric dripping as you leaned in front of him. Peter quickly brought his eyes to yours, not knowing which sight made him more nervous.

“Okay,” You responded. Picking up your knee, you brought it over Peter’s legs. You slowly lowered onto his lap, “This okay?” You felt as if your heart could pound out of your chest.

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled nervously. Your actions were killing him and he did not know if he would be able to hold back. Peter felt the weight of you on his lap, hoping you would not feel just how hard you were making him. Bringing his hands to your thighs, he pushed past the soft fabric of your dress. The fabric pooled around his wrist as his hands trailed up your legs, “shit,”

“Peter,” His name fell quietly past your lips as you placed your hands on his chest, fingertips on his collarbones. You heard him hum in response to his name, “What- What are you going to do?” You attempted to keep up the act, however, being this close to Peter was making you crumble.

“R-Right,” Peter breathed out, feeling his lungs shake as he took in a sharp breath. He studied the skin of your neck as you stared at him. Peter closed the space between the two of you, lips finding the skin he had been studying. His kisses varied, some soft yet some hungry. Peter’s lips parted, his kisses becoming more sloppy as his fingers dug into your plush skin coaxing a whimper from your lips.

The limo air hung heavy with every heated kiss and breath the two of you exchanged. Bringing your hand to Peter’s head, your fingers took hold of his hair. You pulled him away from your neck before you brought your lips to his. Your kisses were equally as hungry and making up for lost time. Hands still exploring his hair, you raked through the gel that held it in place. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you messed with Peter’s gelled hair. A slight smile curled on your lips as you kissed him, “What?” Peter questioned, lips not even an inch away from yours. His eyes studied your smile, teeth appearing between your lips.

“Your hair,” You spoke, leaning back to study it, “Did Tony tell you to wear it like that?”

“N-No,” Peter replied, “I always put gel in. I just used more this time,”

“Yeah well,” You played with a piece of hair that hung out of place, “I like it better like this,”

“Yeah?” Peter smiled.

“Mhm,” You hummed, fingers running through his locks.

“Then I guess I’ll have you do my hair for the next gala,” Peter added.

“Okay,” You answered quietly, eyes now falling to his lips.

“Alright,” Peter smiled, leaning back into you. His lips found yours once more, finding the rhythm the two of you previously shared. 

Peter had no idea how he ever survived this long without kissing you. The feeling of your body and lips pressed against him was enough to drive him insane. He melted against you, fully giving into you. His touch continued to trail up your skin, fingers now tracing the curve of your hips and waist, “Y/N,” Peter breathed out, “Are we doing this? Because I feel like I’m losing my mind-“

“Y-Yeah,” You stuttered, coming back to reality, “We better hurry before Tony realizes we’re gone,” You watched as Peter’s brows furrowed for a moment, “What?”

“I want to take my time with you,” He admitted, “I’m not really a quickie kind of guy,”

“Quickie? What are you, a teenager?” You teased slightly, “You can have me when we get back to the compound,” Peter’s gaze fell from your eyes to the tinted window out of embarrassment, “Yeah? Sound fair?”

“Yeah,” Peter spoke, hands leaving your waist and falling onto the fabric of his dress pants. The sound of his zipper made you realize that you were actually about to fuck him and none of this was a dream, “Let’s make this quick then,”

You brought your lips to his in a rough kiss, pushing Peter’s back fully against the limo’s seat. You raised yourself off of Peter’s lap, allowing him to push the fabric of his pants down his thighs. Suddenly, you felt Peter’s finger push your underwear aside, finger running through your wet folds. This caught you off guard, making you jump, body freezing against him.

“You’re so wet,” Peter almost laughed, “How long have you been like this?”

“The Prada got me pretty quick,” You admitted slightly.

“Yeah?” Peter smiled, “It wasn’t the fake dating?”

“S-Shut up,” You stuttered as Peter’s touch returned for another swift motion between your legs, “We d-don’t have time for this,” You spoke, hoping Peter’s teasing would cease as embarrassment flooded your cheeks.

“Right, no foreplay,” Peter spoke, “Not that you seem to need it right now,” He teased, watching your brows furrow, “Right, right,” Peter spoke, pulling a condom out from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

“You, you brought a condom?” You stared at the foil in disbelief, for some reason Peter’s action stirred the butterflies that sat in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter admitted, “I have one on me if I ever think I have a chance with you… and also when I don’t,” Opening the condom, he attempted to distract himself from your quiet laughter above him.

The laughter continued to bubble past your lips. You were not laughing at Peter, but at how stupid you were for waiting this long to act on your feelings. Somewhere between your laughs, Peter had rolled the condom down the length of his dick.

“What?” Peter questioned your laughter as he pushed the fabric of your underwear aside.

“N-Nothing,” You stuttered, catching your breath from your laughs, “I just- I feel like I don’t deserve you,”

Reaching out, Peter covered your mouth. He somehow felt himself grow even harder as the claim left your lips. His dick bounced, attracting your gaze. You felt your face heat up as you took in the sight before you.

Removing his large hand, Peter caught you in a heated kiss. It was a kiss by definition, however it was sloppy and hungry with barely any rhythm to it. As you lost yourself in decoding it, Peter had lined himself up underneath you and began to enter you.

“S-Shit,” Peter stuttered at how tight you sat around his dick. You were so wet for him and he entered you easily, “fuck,”

“P-Peter,” You returned his stuttering, his name falling past your lips as you felt the size of him, “God- shit, you’re big,”

“Right,” Peter laughed as you gave him the classic, cliche line. But he was big and you were not sure if you could thank the spider bite for that or not. 

However, as the single thought crossed your mind, it soon left as Peter began to bounce you above him, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, “Ffffuck,” You moaned from the pressure of Peter’s hands combined with the rhythm he started.

“God you sound so pretty,” Peter groaned as his head tilted back against the seat’s headrest. Your hands, once bunching the fabric of his dress shirt, now traveled to his collar. Your fingers fumbled to unbutton his shirt, hungry for the sight of his soft skin.

As soon as the skin of his chest was visible, your shoulders rounded and lips attached to his collarbone. His skin passed your lips as your teeth marked him, earning a moan from his parted lips.

“Y/N-“ The pain from your mark making only made Peter thrust into you harder and faster, “shit,”

Your hands fell to either side of Peter’s head, holding onto the seat as Peter fucked you. Peter was still holding back, but at this strength, you were still going to be hurting in the morning. You bit into the skin of his shoulder, trying to suppress your moans that only grew louder; screams threatening to replace them, “P-Peter-“ You somehow attempted to speak his name.

“I-I,” Peter almost stuttered, “hate to say it but I’m really close,” He watched as you pulled your face out from his neck, now studying him. He was falling apart below you, everything about you making him weak. Somehow, he felt as if he was becoming weaker just at the sight of you, “Y/N,”

Peter looked as if he was holding on for you, brows furrowed as his teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip. As you studied his lips, you decided to bring yours to his jaw, showering him in kisses. Some were sloppy and some were rougher than others as you attempted to help Peter over the edge he was holding onto, “Want you to cum,” You whispered against his skin, “Cum for me. Please?”

“S-Shit,” Peter breathed out. The curse rang with a slight laugh as you relieved him. With a few more rough thrusts, Peter filled the condom that was deep inside of you, “I-I wanted to last longer,” He informed, however his claim was cut short by your lips finding his own.

“Later,” You reminded him, “If you still want to-“

“I do-“ Peter interrupted. Clearing his throat at his desperation, he spoke again, “Yeah, yeah I’d like that,”

“Yeah,” You smiled, “I’d like that too,” You studied him as you still sat on his lap. However, that is when you remembered where you two were, “Shit-“ You raised yourself off of his lap. A shutter traveled through you as Peter quickly exited you.

“W-What?” Peter questioned awkwardly as the filled condom fell against the fabric of his shirt. Pulling it off of his dick, he tied it off before tossing it in the limo’s trash.

“How long has it been?” You questioned, nervousness rushing through you at the thought of the gala being over.

Your question made Peter’s shoulders round, wishing the limo’s seat would engulf him, “Was… was I that bad?”

“What?” You questioned as you collected yourself, looking out of the limo’s tinted window, “Wh- No- No. I-I meant how long have we been in here,” 

“Oh,” Peter spoke, attempting to make himself look presentable as well, “We should get back to the gala, “Hey- hey Friday, could you come back online please,”

“Of course Peter,” The system spoke as you placed your hand on the limo’s handle.

“W-Wait- hold on I’m almost-” Peter spoke but his claim was interrupted by your low voice.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get out at the same time… in case anyone sees,” Your words were cautious as if you were dancing around an insult, “Anyone being like the media… or-”

“Or Phil?” Peter questioned quite quickly.

“You know what I mean,” You spoke back defensively, “We don’t need any attention drawn towards you or a Stark controversy,”

“I know,” Peter responded, however you were already halfway out of the limo’s door.

Stepping into the cool night air, you took in a sharp breath. You did not mean to hurt Peter’s feelings, but it was just second nature to you. You always said the wrong things and somehow found yourself in arguments, but Peter was the last person you wanted to upset.

“Needed to cool off?” You heard Tony’s voice call out.

“Not now,” You groaned, however you dropped the attitude as you saw the rest of the group not too far behind him, “Party’s over?”

“Yeah you missed it. Where’s Pete? Was he holding your hair after all those drinks?” Tony asked, eyes scanning for Peter. You walked back towards the limo, hoping to warn Peter of the group’s presence before they could catch up. Opening the door you stuck your head into the vehicle, “I’m surprised Friday even let you in there,” Tony spoke as he approached you from behind. He waited for a remark from you. After all, he programmed the question just to mention you, however you were silent. Sticking his head in, he caught the last glimpse of what exactly was going on in his limo.

You pushed Peter away, who as soon as you entered the limo had caught you in a quite passionate kiss, “Not- not now-“

“Do I even want to sit in this limo?” Tony’s voice questioned, making you jump away from Peter’s hold. You sat down, putting a seat between the two of you, “My limo, may I add. God, I don’t even want to think about what you two did in here. And where you did it”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter spoke, the group’s presence unknown to him after he stopped you in your tracks as you entered the limo to warn him, “We didn’t…”

“Yeah Pete, real convincing,” Tony looked around as he climbed into the limo,  calculating where the safest place to sit might be, “Could you please just let me know if I’m about to sit in the splash zone or something,”

“I…I swear to fucking god,” You groaned, fingers now rubbing circles into your temples, “Can we all just get in and leave?”

“Why?” Tony questioned, attempting to hold eye contact with you as the rest of the Avengers piled into the limo, “Is there just something you’re dying to finish when we get back?”

“If something did happen tonight, shouldn’t you be glad? Took them long enough,” Natasha spoke, giving you a slight grin. Her red hair, once pulled back taut, now had a few loose pieces that fell against her cheekbones, “Plus, spare me. I’m getting a migraine from all that wine,”

“I’m trying to spare you” Tony spoke, fingers falling against his chest. Raising his opposite hand, he flashed the foil wrapper that sat between his fingers, “I don’t know what seat is safe,”

“Peter,” You groaned, covering your eyes as Tony tossed the wrapper towards you. You rubbed your temples as you heard Peter stutter from where he sat on your left.

“I mean,” Tony spoke, pouring himself another glass of whiskey from the limo’s bar, “I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Good for you kid, she’s way out of your league,” Taking a sip, he looked towards you. “So much for lone wolf,”

#peter parker #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfiction #spider-man #spiderman smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #spider-man fanfiction #spider-man fic #spider-man fanfic #spider-man smut #spiderman fanfiction #spider man fanfic #spider man fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel smut

[ladyblueberrymuffin]

I feel like people haven't really understood The Lost Hero, because like... "I think the reasons Piper and Jason broke up make sense. Their relationship is based on fake memories and blah blah blah"

THE LOST HERO IS LITERALLY ABOUT PIPER HAVING AN IDENTITY CRISIS, BECAUSE SHE LEARNS HER MEMORIES ARE FAKE AND SHE HAS TO LEARN TO ACCEPT IT.

The whole crux of Jasiper in The Lost Hero is they're slow and shy and even ashamed to a degree about their feelings, because they are afraid it'd be those fake memories pushing them into this.

Like, I feel like The Lost Hero couldn't be more obvious about the fact that they like each other for real, and they're the only ones who can't see it.

Piper already learned this lesson in The Lost Hero, why is this treated like a new development in The Burning Maze?

Also,

Aphrodite smiled. “Because you are my daughter, Piper. You see possibilities much more vividly than others. You see what could be. And it still might be—don’t give up."

It wasn't Hera, or Aphrodite who gave Piper the memories of dating Jason. It was Piper. Like, the way I think about it, it's like when you meet this boy, and you develop a crush, and you start making up all these fantasies about dating him in your head.

In other words, all Hera did was "introduce" Jason to Piper's brain, and because Jason is very sweet, and nice, and funny, Piper's brain was like "Yes, this guy, more please."

I dunno. I always found it cute. She's basically just dealing with an unrequited crush, just dressed up in a magic packaging.

I do think there should be more emphasis put on the fact that there are differences between how Piper "remembers" Jason, and what he's really like, and over the course of the book, she realizes that she likes real Jason more than her idealized version of him.

No one gaslit no one into liking each other. Jason and Piper actively gave each other time to process things. The Lost Hero even ends with this:

Across the green, her cabin mates looked disappointed that they hadn’t witnessed a kiss. They started cashing in their bets. But that was all right. Piper was patient.

The patient bit was always the most important to me. Piper isn't rushing things.

I think Rick heard fans complaining that Jasiper is based on fake memories and how messed up that is, and course corrected. They wanted a major character death, more representation, a different personality for Piper, not having Piper constantly think about Jason, they didn't really like Jason...

And you know, I think he's valid. Like, this is a job to him. He's feeding his family. He doesn't have to care about these fake names on the page just because I do. He wanted to accommodate the fans, he probably wanted some more meaty character stuff after the last couple of books were kinda boring with Callypso and Leo and so on, he probably thought this would get people hooked and interested.

It's fine. I'm glad he's still making books, and getting work, and helping other creators. I don't think other writers are that invested in their characters either, but when I read like a Kami Garcia schmaltzy romance, it feels like it was written with the mindset of "How would I feel if my friend stopped talking to me? How would I feel if my loved one died?" and it makes the actions of the characters feel less cold and detached.

I'd have a panic attack if I was friends with Leo and he moved on a whim, and didn't seem all that broken up about not seeing me again. I'd feel like I am not worth a lot to him. Hell, I am 23, way older than they are, and I still cry, because my friend moved away this year. I pass his house, and I realize I feel nothing, and I don't wanna be there, because he's not there, and I cry. These characters don't cry about anything, unless someone dies. And even then, a few minutes later, it's back to normal.

I dunno, is this what makes it more accessible to middle-schoolers? I feel like middle-schoolers would be even more terrified of the prospect of a friend moving away and not even feeling that sad over leaving them behind.

EDIT: Furthermore, if you think Hera put fake memories of a relationship into Piper's head... TO WHAT END?! To what end?! How does that benefit Hera in any way? Why would Hera care? Rick has done a pretty interesting thing with Hera lately by making her actually love Jason like a son, but that relationship was a lot more reserved at the time of HoO. Why would she care if he gets a girlfriend? Why would she think Piper is a good match for Jason? I feel like the last thing Hera would want for Jason is a relationship with Piper, like, common, Hera hates Aphrodite, they're like polar opposites, and the Trojan War started because of their argument (Athena was involved too, but Hera has different reasons to dislike her). Hera is the goddess of marriage, who has stayed loyal to a man who cheats on her daily, do you think she would hitch her boy with the daughter of the only woman who's body count rivals Zeus'?

#heroes of olympus #hoo #percy jackson #pjo #toa #trials of apollo #the burning maze #can you tell i recently stumbled into the burning maze and got swept up in the angy again? #i'm sorry i'll try to slow down with these vent posts #jasiper #jiper #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #i don't hate rick riordan i swear

[bizzareskz]

unforgivable sins of a brat

pairing: sub!brat!felix x soft!dom!reader

word count: 3k

genre: smut, some fluff

summary: the most infuriating boy you’ve ever met won’t leave you alone. at first, you have no inkling as to why, until it clicks. only a brat would want this much attention; you’ll put him in his place.

⚠️ warnings: dirty talk, dry humping, cums in pants, nipple play, mentions of being territorial, marking (i think that’s all.)

not suitable for audiences under eighteen.

You don’t even get one foot onto campus territory before Felix is right besides you. It’s like he senses you…You give him a quick glance, seeing the most irritating smirk on his face. “I can’t even get two steps in before you show up.” Your eyes rolled in annoyance, not hiding it one bit. He pretended to be hurt before saying, “Oh baby, don’t act like you didn’t miss me.” He said in a patronizing tone, even adding a pout.

You gave him a confused look before your legs carried you faster, not wanting to deal with him first thing in the morning. “Don’t run away yet! Our conversation just started!” Felix shouted as you got further and further away. You almost laughed at the thought of Felix thinking you barely talking to him was a conversation. Safely making it inside and to your first class, there was no sign of Felix. Setting everything down, getting ready and comfortable for the next hour, your mind couldn’t help wonder why Felix followed you around everyday. You don’t actually know his intent. He could be doing it for a bet, to sleep with you, mess with you because you’re more of a reserved person.

Thankfully he’s only just bothering you and he hasn't done anything malicious, yet. You’re always on the lookout thinking Felix and his friends will do something to you sooner or later. Trying to forget about Felix, you focus on the lecture that just started.

An hour later you make way to your second class, the one you dread the most. Felix and two of his buddies happen to be in this class. They also happen to always sit right behind you. It’s funny because you don’t have assigned seats, but, wherever you sit, Felix is following suit, his friends just going along with it.

They never say anything when Felix teases you, sometimes finding it funny. You just wished Felix was never in this class or else he would’ve, hopefully, never noticed you. You honestly think that Felix and his friends wrote down everyones names in this class and picked randomly. You being the lucky winner. You’ve probably sat in every seat in this class, yet, Felix is always near you. It’s giving kind’ve obsessive.

Today you decided to sit all the way in the back; the seats being against the wall and at the end of the row. Leaving Felix sitting on your left as not an option. Hurriedly putting your book bag in the seat on your right, you’ve come up with one seating plan. Felix will have to sit in front of you. Hopefully that’ll keep him from bothering you for today.

Class was about to start and in comes Felix and his goons. You don’t miss the way he casually looked around the class, most likely looking for you. Not wasting time, you’re already slouching in your seat and covering your face, praying he wouldn’t see you. He obviously found you this morning but maybe he’ll think you didn’t make it to class.

Still hiding, you hear footsteps coming closer to you but you don’t dare take a peak. If you look now, Felix would definitely see you. The footsteps become louder and louder causing you to slouch even more in your seat.

They come to a halt, right next to you. There was no doubt in your mind it was Felix but you kept hanging on to your sliver of hope. Evidently, you felt stupid hiding and sat up straight, seeing it was indeed Felix. He looked at your book bag, that you purposely put there, then back to you. He seemed like he wanted to smile but didn’t. Instead, he picked up your book bag and placed it next to your feet. You sighed, knowing in the back of your mind that it wouldn’t stop him but wishing it would’ve. “Nice to see you again.” Felix whispered so only you could hear him.

He plopped onto the chair, making himself comfortable, as well as his friends. “You ready to learn!” Felix exclaimed excitedly towards you, rubbing his hands together like a fly. You just ignored him, getting out your notes.

Only minutes into class you went to place your arm on the chairs armrest, but collided with Felixs arm instead. He peeked from just above where your arms met, smiling. “I knew you liked me, look at you touching my arm.” He teased. “Can’t get enough hmm?” Teasing you even further. “I think it’s you who can’t get enough. You sat next to me.” You said in an uninterested tone.

He just grinned, having nothing to say back because you were right. He couldn’t get enough of you, always wanting to be near you. He wouldn’t admit it, but, he misses you when school is over. all he can think about is seeing you the next day.

He loved how mean you were to him, knowing he was getting under your skin. Knowing that he annoys you. If you weren’t bothered, you wouldn’t waste your breath. But you do, every–time. You entertain his lame attempts to get your attention, without even realizing it. He absolutely loves your bickering back and forth, so much that’ll do anything to get it out of you.

With Felix taking over the armrest, he leaned even further towards you, watching you take notes. You simply ignored him but Felix didn’t miss the way you sighed when he came closer. It excites him. He nudged your leg with his foot, wanting you to look at him so he can have your full attention for more than a second. Ignoring him again, he huffed. Deciding to take a riskier move, he moves his arm that was on the armrest, placing his hand on your thigh.

You stopped moving your pencil and looked at his hand on your thigh, then to him. His face showed an amused smile while yours showed so much irritation. “I can’t even take notes without you pestering me.” You mumbled under your breath. “I love pestering you.” Felix sighed happily, giving your thigh a squeeze.

Needing to pay attention to what you’re writing, as an exam is coming up soon. You did the only thing you could think of in the moment to have Felix leave you alone. If he wants to be risky by squeezing your thigh, you can take it further.

Giving Felix a gesture to come closer, which he obediently did. You let out a soft breath against his ear, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms unknowingly. “Behave or I will make you cum in your pants.” You whispered in such a dark and demanding tone. It took a second for Felix to understand what you said, his brain seemingly short circuited.

You bathed in his reaction, seeing his ears turn red and his eyes widen. He was speechless. You saw him move uncomfortably in his seat, which prompted you to look down, seeing his growing bulge.

Laughter almost escaped you. Seeing how easily Felix is affected by your teasing words. The big bad wolf is so easy to rile up, who would’ve guessed. It feels nice to know that you’re not the one getting annoyed this time, it’s Felix. Annoyed by how much he liked hearing you say that.

Snapping out of it, Felix thought of something to say so quickly, that it didn't come off as confident as he imagined. “No you can’t.” He said, mocking you. For the first time, you smiled while talking to him, knowing that, in fact, you definitely could.

Coming close to him yet again, you whispered even more quietly this time. “Do you wanna bet?” He scoffed at your words as curiosity overtook him, wanting to see if you were being for real. He couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What’s in it for me?” You rolled your eyes, not actually really meaning any of this but going along. “If I make you cum in your pants, you leave me alone from now on.” He nodded hesitantly, agreeing. “If I don’t make you cum in your pants, you can…copy my notes.” He slouched, disappointed. “What? You haven’t been paying attention this whole time.” You said as a matter of fact.

“How about, if you lose, I get to make you cum?” Felix suggested, making your eyebrows furrow in a thinking manner. You don’t know if either of you are being honest in this bet, you thinking it was just a joke.

Deciding to call him on his bluff, you agree, seeing if he’ll back out, but he doesn’t. He takes your hand and shakes it with a competitive look on his face. “Your place, after school.” He squeaked in eagerness.

As he let go of your hand, you’re now realizing he’s not joking. Even though you started this, you just wanted to shut him up. But, if you win, he’ll have to leave you alone…Which sounds the most appealing to you. You know he’ll lose, thinking back to how he reacted to your words. He’ll be a mess with you touching him.

“Meet me in front of the school, we’ll walk there.” You’re now determined. You winning this bet will make life so much easier for you. “I can drive us there.” Felix demanded, not leaving any room for disagreement. You just nodded, not knowing what else to say.

You forgot Felix had a car, a nice one at that. A car you wouldn’t mind having for yourself. A 1970 Challenger, all black. Was a sexy car but you always felt like it didn’t fit Felix. Yes he was a your typical ‘loud popular guy’ but you could see yourself driving it better than him. You chuckled quietly to yourself, seeing tiny Felix driving such a badass car. He looked at you puzzled, but surprisingly didn’t say anything.

As classes went on, you felt yourself become a little nervous. You weren’t sure why, you’ve hooked up with guys before. Maybe the whole premise of it was making you nervous. If you lose, then Felix will try to pleasure you…something you didn’t let most guys do.

Watching a guy melt under your stare and moan from your touch was pleasing to you. You’d take care of yourself later as the guys pleasure comes first for you. You enjoy that more than you’d like it admit.

The ring of the last bell takes you out of your anxious thoughts, realizing school is now over. Everyone rushed out of class except you, taking your time. You really couldn’t comprehend why you were so reluctant when you knew almost one hundred percent you were winning this bet.

Maybe because you haven’t done anything with a guy in awhile? What if your techniques need some practice again? “Fuck it.” You said to yourself, throwing the rest of your stuff into your bag, making your way out as quickly as you could. You’ll just get it over with and then it’ll be worth it.

Felix was a mess waiting for you outside. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. He kept picking at his nails and paced around, looking at the doors every second. It’s not that he was scared, he was excited.

This is literally all Felix has ever wanted from you. Your attention. He was excited for you to be in his car and seeing what your place looks like, more than you, supposedly, making him cum in his pants. That’s just a bonus. Even better, if you lose, he gets to make you feel good. The thought going straight to his cock. He could already imagine it now.

But before he could, his dirty thoughts were put on pause when you came walking towards him, the same look you always have when you see him, nothing but a blank stare.

His heart picked up a bit but he played it cool. “Hey babygirl. Can’t wait to go to your place.” Felix confessed, not keeping his eagerness to himself. “Shut up. Where’s your car?” You murmured, wanting to get this over with. Felix took your hand, lacing your fingers together and pulled you to the way of his car. You tried taking your hand out of his grip but he tightened his hold even more, liking the feeling of your hand in his.

Arriving to his car, before getting in you admired the outside quickly, wanting to see the inside even more. Felix may be annoying but his taste in cars was right up your alley.

Seeing the inside, you were more than impressed. You were amazed with how nice it was. You weren’t much of a car girl but this one has you wanting one for yourself. Felix saw you admiring his car, feeling proud as ever.

Turning the ignition, the car roared. It literally sounded sexy. A small smile crept up your lips, making Felix feel even more proud, happy, enough so that he revved the engine just for you before taking off. He looked at you with fondness before saying, “Maybe i’ll let you drive her one day.” To which you gazed at him bewildered. You have your license but driving a car like this was something you don’t think you could do, scared you’d crash it.

You didn’t know what to say so prompted in saying nothing at all. The ride was nice and you actually enjoyed it. Telling Felix where to go until you’ve arrived.

Unlocking the door and making way inside your shared apartment, Felix looked around, giddy as ever. “My roommate won’t be here until later tonight so…” You said, trying to make conversation.

You didn’t know what to do or how to start with Felix just staring at everything, not saying anything. He felt honored to be in your space as he let you in his, his car being one of them. He took it upon himself to sit on your couch, feeling right at home, his boldness not being new to you.

Thinking about what would be the best way to get into this whole bet, you decided on watching a movie. You would’ve felt weird just going straight at it, since there was no foreplay or anything to ease into it.

“How about a movie?” You asked, Felix nodded his head, still not saying much. He wanted to see how you’d go about this, seeing as you’re the one that started it.

Getting everything ready, the movie started to play when you sat far from Felix. He noticed and scooted closer to you, close enough to where your thighs were touching. It sparked something in you, you not understanding why but liking it. You’ve never been this nervous around a guy before, what is he doing to you?

As the movie went on, Felix ever so subtly, placed his hand on your thigh. He thought you would’ve made a move by now but you didn’t, taking matters into his own hands. Inching close to your ear, so you can hear him over the movie, back to his teasing manners. “I thought you were gonna make me cum in my pants?” He declared, hoping you’ll do something.

“We’re only twenty minutes into that movie, you’re that impatient?” You mentioned. He nodded, once again, not hiding his eagerness. “I want you to lose already so I can make you feel good.” He licked his lips, making you clench your thighs together. You didn’t like how his words affected you, wanting the attention back on him. “Oh come on pretty, don’t act like you didn’t get hard from what I said to you in class.” He stiffened, not aware that you saw it.

His ears turn red, feeling embarrassed. “You really think I didn’t notice? I could’ve made you cum right then and there.” He swallowed harshly at your words. His reactions making your previous nervousness fade away so quickly. You turned to face him so you could softly rub your hand on his cheek. “Do you like being told what to do?” You paused, waiting for an answer but he didn’t move.

He gave you all the answers you needed when you saw his growing bulge. “Look at you. So easy to rile up. How cute.” As he still wasn’t saying anything, you decided to get on his lap, hoping he’ll be more vocal now that you’re in his line of view.

Felix felt so desperate already. You’ve hardly done anything yet he can feel himself get harder and harder. Pre-cum starts to drip from his tip when you sit on his lap. He couldn’t help himself but hum at the feeling. You looked satisfied with that. “There you go babyboy. Let me hear you.” At this point, any nervousness you felt has flown out the window. You now don’t even remember why you were so nervous when Felix is falling apart for you so easily.

You came in closer to his face, hovering above his lips, waiting for him to give you some kind of consent to which he didn’t waste any time giving. He surged forward, latching onto your lips, moaning quietly when you start kissing him back.

He then wrapped his arms around you, his hands going down to your hips, urging you to move, which you did without seconds thought. It felt good, his hard cock against your heat. He groaned into the kiss when you gave a harder thrust against him. The sounds coming from him making you wetter.

The kiss deepened, as your swiped your tongue along his lips to encourage him to open his mouth, you tongues wrapped around each other. He whimpered when you stopped moving your hips and pulled away from the kiss; wanting to pay attention to other things. You pulled at the hem of his shirt, silently telling him to take it off.

He didn’t waste time, being so obedient for you. You raised your hand and hovered over his nipple, seeing if he protests. You didn’t think he even would, seeing how desperate he is because of you. His cheeks are flared, lips swollen and pink, panting slightly, awaiting your next move.

Since he didn’t protest, you give his nipple a small flick, testing the waters. He leaned his head back and moaned from the touch, feeling his cock twitch underneath you. The sight and sound has never made you so wet so fast.

You began rubbing yourself against him again, bringing your mouth down to his nipple this time, while your hand played with the other. Nipple play is something Felix never thought would turn him on so much, it felt so good. When you sucked harshly on his nipple he let out an open-mouthed whine, eyes rolling back. The sensation of his nipples being played with all while your grinding against him is becoming too much, he feels himself getting closer and closer by the second.

Taking your mouth off his nipple but continuing to play with the other one in your fingers, you latch onto his neck, causing him to let out a drawn out moan. He loved his neck being sucked on. “Mark me please.” He pleaded breathlessly to you. He knew he wasn’t yours but if he had marks from you, he could think he was yours for a little while until they’d fade away.

You didn’t hesitate to give him what he wanted, sucking harshly on his skin, making him grind up into you fiercely. “Babyboy likes being marked hmm? Want everyone to know that you belong to someone?” You said, letting go of his neck to look at your handy work. Felix nodded eagerly to your words, gripping your hips harder, giving him more friction.

“I wanna be owned. Wanna only be yours.” He confessed without realizing. You didn’t think Felix thought that way. He could just be saying it in the heat of the moment so you went along with it.

“You’re mine, only mine. You belong to me now pretty.” Your words made him moan louder than before. He picked up speed, whining as he did so. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to cum so badly. He doesn’t even care about losing the bet anymore. Having you say those things and do these things to him is worth it.

“I belong to you.” He panted. “I belong only to you.” His whines were drawn out into breathless grunts. He’s never felt so out of control before. He couldn’t stop his moans from coming out, couldn’t stop what he was saying either. In the back of his mind, he knew he meant it all.

You could tell Felix was close, his eyebrows furrowed so deeply as he focused on the way you felt against him. “Cum for me.” You said, breathless. “Make a mess for me.” Felix stopped you before you could say anything else, pulling your face towards his to capture your lips again.

He loves how they feel against his own, so soft. You take his nipple into your fingers again, making him bite down on your bottom lip. As he gives one last hard thrust, he feels himself let go. He moans uncontrollably, his hips moving in an uneven pattern as his cums. You attach your lips back together, his moans being caught in his throat. (tw! don’t watch if under 18!here’s a visual for everyone 😉)

The kiss becomes sloppy when he starts coming down from his high. Felix breaks the kiss because he’s breathing so heavily, licking his lips after he does.

You stare at him, with a smirk crawling up to your lips. You scoot back towards his knees, wanting to see what a mess he’s made of himself. A grin overtakes your smirk when you see him look down then back up to you, not even shy about it. “I told you I could make you cum in your pants.”

this is my first fic! i hope you like it! lmk <3

#straykids #stray kids smut #straykidssmut #felix #lee felix #felix smut #felixsmut #sub!felix #sub!skz #felix x reader #skz felix #stray kids felix #brat!felix #dom!reader #bizzareskzfics

[yungchaeng]

can i request #3 fluff prompt with nayeon? and i don't think i've said it but i seriously love your writing!

Smile (Twice: Nayeon)

genre: fluff - word count: 1025

As studious as you were, not even the toughest exams could get you to frequent the library as much as you did lately…but she could.

Maybe it was the furrow of her brow every time she eagerly turned a page of a book she was reading. Or perhaps you were enticed by the way she almost crawled into the book at what seemed like particularly exciting parts, and she’d adjust the specs she wore with a swift motion of her finger whenever it nearly fell down her nose.

Whatever it was, it made you hope she’d walk through the door every time you were at the library. It kept your mind clouded with thoughts of her when you tried to concentrate and made you long for just a second longer whenever she’d leave. You were so struck by her.

Today, she walked in in the morning time - earlier than usual, a pleasant surprise. She wore a simple crop top paired with some sweats, but with the way she way you were eyeing her she might as well have walked in wearing the most impressive outfit at a fashion show. You almost couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.

She walked past you over to her usual seat on the other side of the library with a new book firmly pressed to her side. Briefly, your eyes met hers and you panicked, immediately burying your head back into your book as you slapped yourself across the face mentally.

How awkward. Way to go.

It took some courage to look her way again. She seemed to have long forgotten about your little interaction as she was already staring intently into the book that captivated her almost as much as you were captivated by her.

“Hi.”

You looked up at the person suddenly standing over you and were met with one of the teens working at the library. You recognized him from the many times you saw him stacking away books and he had even helped you find some textbooks once or twice, but never had you had casual conversation.

“Uhm…hi?” you half-asked.

“Okay, I’ll get right to the point.” He huffed. “Me and some co-workers have this bet about how long it would take you to go talk to her….and I’m kinda losing.”

You gave the boy a horrified look. Although you wanted to play dumb and ask what exactly he was talking about, you knew you’d been found out. You’d been staring at this mystery girl for way too long and you just got called out for it by a bunch of kids. What does one even say in this situation?

“So how about I give you a free coffee if you just up and talk to her?” he asked, or rather pleaded. “Please?” His determination truly made you wonder how much money this bet was truly for (and if you could get a cut of it).

However, you took this as your sign that the time was now or never. With some expert negotiation, you managed to get two free coffees from the deal. One for you, one for her.

Then, after a small peptalk from teen-aged cupid, you huffed and made your way over to the girl you’d been infatuated with for weeks. What could go wrong? Worst case scenario, you’d have two free coffees and could stay up for hours, caffeinated and replaying where it all went wrong.

Oh gosh, it was too late turn back now.

When you got to her, you tried to ignore your heart beating quicker. You were more nervous than you’d ever been in your entire life, but you tried wishing that feeling away. You shot one more glance at the librarian and he gave you a thumbs up along with an order to smile. He was most likely right, the nervous look on your face was probably not a sight to see.

“Hi.” You awkwardly coughed, but she didn’t hear you. Panicked, you looked over at the boy again, but his head was already buried in his hands as he slowly shook it from side to side.

Okay, you were on your own.

“Hey, there.” You tried again, louder this time.

Thankfully, this did catch her attention. She looked up with a questioning look and closed her book. “Hi?”

You fumbled a bit over your words when she looked at you. “I, uh…you’re probably busy, but I- uhm, I’ve seen you around and kind of wanted to get to know you…do you like coffee?” you asked, and offered her one of the coffee cups in your hands.

“I’m actually more of a tea girl…” she grimaced.

“Oh.” you raised your eyebrows, already slowly backing away and sighing at the silent rejection. “My bad, sorry-“

“Relax. I was kidding.” The girl snickered and patted the spot next to her. “I like coffee, come sit.”

“Oh, thank god.” You quickly spoke as you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Without hesitation, you sat next to her and let out a deep sigh of relief.

“You’re funny.” She spoke. “I like you.”

And then she smiled at you. Brightly, from ear to ear. For the first time, you saw an expression other than concentration and her usual intense focus on whatever she was reading. So, you marvelled at her cute gummy smile, displaying her bunny teeth and the full extent of her adorable cheeks – and you took a second to appreciate the sight, a smile of your own having found your lips as well.

You often thought she couldn’t get any more enthralling but were very glad that she had proved you wrong about this.  

“What?” she asked when you stared, that smile still dawned on her pretty face.

“Nothing.” you chuckled and adored her. “It’s just, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile…and you’re really beautiful.”

When she shyly laughed, you bit down your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling too hard. If you weren’t smitten before, you most definitely were now and, in that moment, you vowed to yourself to make her smile for as long as she’d let you.

#this prompt with nayeon is the cutest thing #she has the most adorable smile out there #so mesmerizing #thank you for the request! #twice #nayeon #twice x reader #nayeon x reader #twice x fem reader #nayeon x fem reader #twice fluff #nayeon fluff #fun fact: before i started typing this out i reaaally wanted to keep it under 300 words.....well #happilychaengs

[saintsenara]

ship ask game, Boring Edition, because I truly don't think you could be boring if you tried.

Hinny?

having rashly promised you i was going to answer this weeks ago, here is now is...

i have now found myself friends, entirely by accident, with lots of hinny girlies [shout out to @whinlatter, who's in the trenches]. you are all trying your best to win me over, but i will not be moved.

so let's do this.

why don't i enjoy hinny?

let's get some common objections to the pairing out of the way, because i think a lot of them are quite unfair and i can see why they bother hinny fans:

i don't think there's anything inherently less interesting about liking canon ships. the fact that hinny are endgame in the books doesn't make their fandom less imaginative or talented, and i think those of us who prefer non-canon pairings need to get over the superiority complex about our creative genius which i have seen a lot of. i like many of the other canon couples a great deal - romione, remadora [which, in an unpopular move, i actively prefer to wolfstar], bellamort [if ya nasty] etc.

similarly, i have no objection to het ships [see above], and i do think those of us who largely read and write slash need to be very careful to avoid a tendency to portray queer pairings either in a tokenising way or a heteronormative one, particularly if we want to say queer ships are just as plausible or supported by canon as the books' het pairings. that said, i do definitely prefer stories in which harry identifies as queer - the fact that he's bi/pan is canon, fight me - and, while that could [and should!] feature in het pairing stories, it almost never does. hinny authors are not the only - or the worst - offenders on this point [i've had some really illuminating conversations with remadora enjoying friends about the way that anti-wolfstar feeling has erased both lupin and tonks' queer-coding in their fandom], but i think hinny is the main victim on this point of my active refusal to engage with harmony.

come on lads, harry doesn't have an oedipus complex. red hair comes in more than one shade, and since lily doesn't have a personality in canon it's impossible to say whether she and ginny are alike. harry does have daddy issues though, which might lead him into the path of men who are also tall, thin, and dark-haired...

ginny is not a deranged fan who stalked harry. she was eleven with a crush and she acted embarrassingly, exactly as - i'm willing to bet - the vast majority of us did at that age. by the time she was fifteen she was out of her blushing era, and good for her. i loathe the way she gets slut-shamed, both in the text and the fandom, and i hope when her relationship with harry ends she fucks literally everyone in sight.

now, the big one: their relationship doesn't come out of nowhere. there are signs even in order of the phoenix that harry has started to notice ginny, and ron has been shipping it for years before they get together - but, also, even if it does start very intensely, that is the case for lots of teenage flings.

so, why don't i back hinny?

well, a lot of the reasons are to do with harry. none are canon, but i do think they can be justified by the text in a way that allows the crashing-and-burning of harry's canonical great love to feel logical, even in otherwise canon-divergent fics:

harry spends the books never seeming to see ginny as a real person. and sure, teenage boys are self-centred, and he may very well have matured as an adult, but it's incredibly easy to write a hinny break-up where she points out that he's only ever seen her as "harry potter's wife"; that he's paternalistic [i'm thinking here of a great conversation with @ashesandhackles about how harry never seems to acknowledge that ginny spends deathly hallows as a resistance leader in her own right - and if i were her i would never forgive him for not including me in plans for the horcrux hunt]; and that his saviour complex canonically drives him to reject other people's input and feelings [even as he matures across the series].

the trio are intensely codependent, and while i think it's plausible that they expand to a quartet/ginny becomes harry's priority once they're together, it's also entirely - and i would even say much more - plausible that they don't.

in canon, ginny is the person who generally initiates their romantic encounters. sorry, babe, he's just not that into you.

harry's all-or-nothing approach to life means that he could very easily become suffocating or neglectful, depending on how you want to write him. the idea of auror potter spending the majority of his time at work, because he won't let evil roam free, leaving ginny at home, makes sense, i'm afraid to say.

and a tomarry-specific reason, because why not: harry literally doesn't give a shit about ginny's experience with tom riddle. i know, i know, he remembers it in half-blood prince, and that's progress from order of the phoenix, but he still sees ginny worrying about the prince's book and totally ignores her concerns. if you're the sort of person [gestures at self with thumbs] who wants to take harry's canonical interest in the mystery of voldemort, canonical belief that he understands voldemort, and canonical belief that his connection to voldemort is a good thing [snape’s right - harry does think it makes him special!] and run with it, ginny is going to be pretty rightfully pissed, and, even if you're not, harry's lack of interest in ginny's own trauma isn't a great foundation on which to build a relationship.

ginny deserves a hot quidditch star partner with precisely one braincell, and i will always make sure she gets them.

they're just never harry.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #hinny

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Our sixth book in the series (fourth in written order) The Silver Chair is one of the hardest Narnia books to write about. It's a weird one but most fans I've known like it and I bet it's a fair few people's favorites. This time we're done with the four Pevensie siblings and our holdover is Eustace Scrubb from Dawn Treader. More mature and changed by the voyage here with a classmate Jill. Back to the same vibe as The Magician's Nephew pair with a way better Uncle Andrew stand-in out of our main man this blog will always stan, Puddleglum. I know you lovelies out in Tumblr land love Puddleglum.

Imagine Eeyore playing D&D as a frogman paladin. Pessimistic as hell, though he assures us he's a weird optimist for his Marsh-Wiggle race, but he goes hard. I have never forgotten the sheer emotion that came across when Puddleglum found out he committed the major taboo of eating a talking animal. He also gets the best chance to showcase why I like the fine line CS Lewis walks with Christian elements in the series.

Has to do with the main plot. Underdark this time and now I'm starting to appreciate where my love of fantasy sea, desert, and cave journeys come from. Caspian's son Rilian has been taken by an evil queen brainwashing him. Evil queen does lean into being a figure for atheist arguments but it's important to note that the tone is a very fine line. Imagine making a criticism of Youtube Athiests leaning on specious reasoning to dunk on a prominent Christian. It ties in more with the series setting up Eustace & Jill through a criticism of English schools, Digory in Wardrobe bemoaning how they don't teach logic anymore. And what seals the deal to me is how Puddleglum lays it out in a bit of an author filibuster...making explicit the idea that he thinks the question of whether or not Aslan and the world of Narnia above are actually real isn't important.

The idea of those things matters in its own right, especially if those ideals inspire him to be a better person. The belief that this worldly life is but the first step on a much grander journey, the faith that the world is a more special place than mankind can fully grasp does not need to be true if it gives us the drive to make a better Earth. I can get behind that at least. This is also a man who very much believes in the idea of maintaining whimsy & childlike wonder for much of the same reasons. That's pretty ballsy for Christian philosophy, looking at the clergy I know today I only know one example who'd comfortably say something like that and he's still an asshole that really could do with reading The Last Battle more closely. I'm not a religious person by any stretch, but it absolutely pisses me off to see charlatans looking for a hot take trash a wonderful child-friendly series that teaches critical thinking and examines the nature of belief as mere Christian propaganda.

Other than that you see the writing start to mature. Special shoutout to The Horse and His Boy getting a nod as a famous in-universe tale. Which is awesome for a very 1001 Nights inspired side story. Even more so when it is a foreshadow or callback depending on which order you read the series in. Eustace & Jill are a solid pair. I don't think they have the chemistry Digory & Polly had but weaker character chemistry for CS Lewis is still better than most. Great, great entry in the series that is a fun story for a kid but gives you some real meat if you revisit as an adult.

#chronicles of narnia #the silver chair #the sidestory between the years #I also know a guy that used to tour with the band silverchair which i find funny but didn't find a way to mention

[theblogtini]

I agree with your take on her comments as well. I think its why I'm so interested in the reaction thus far to his book. She's been so so quiet, much more than she has during really any other important time frame since she's been married. So to me, it begs the question, was it planned or is it a reaction to the reaction? Looking back, i think its fair to say that the leaks about pushing things back are her not necessarily him. (I don't think he was unaware of the leaks happening, but based on his book I think he justified it in his head as tit for tat with his family) I also think Harry was fully committed to this where as meghan saw the signs that things may not go to plan. So if meghan did "wake up" after the queen passed does she think that the queen gave them the most protection? and now that Charles was in charge it would be much harder for things to go back? Were those leaks trying to gain sympathy for harry before he blew it up? (she must have read the book and watched the show). I'm not yet at the divorce theory simply because i think the latest round of "leaks" is her reaction to THE reaction. Meaning she didn't anticipate even this level of kick back and running jokes. It also doesn't seem as though harry really cares about the coronation in the same way meghan does. Charles put out their publicly that harry won't have the same role as meghan, that had to have pissed off harry. So why go?

Honestly, I think she realized they messed up back in June during the Jubilee. They were relegated to watching everything from a window. The entire family attended the concert together and they were nowhere to be found. And during the jubilee (as with any big royal moment) the popularity of the entire family was soaring WITHOUT the Sussexes.

Meghan had been looking at the rankings since she entered the family as "look, everyone loves ME, I'm the one keeping them afloat" and when she realized that not only did she have no positive impact on it, but that it was doing better without her AND that her personal rankings were plummeting on both sides of the pond I think she realized how badly she had miscalculated.

I also genuinely believe that part of the silence and the backtracking is that they have no deals coming in. Without more deals to sign they're going to eventually run out of money... she NEVER anticipated that. I'm pretty sure that she thought that no matter what happened they'd at least have speaking engagements that they could charge millions of dollars for to fall back on - but that never happened. I think the biggest one they signed was for $400k and it was right at the VERY beginning.

They thought that they would be absolutely fine without the royal family - better off without it, even - and at the time of the Jubilee they (or at least she) realized that unless they can get back in the family's good graces they are fucked.

And she knew that with the docuseries and book coming up there was NO WAY they'd be back in their good graces. That's why she started backtracking with The Cut interview and then the "year of reconciliation" leaks. Those came from Scobie which means we could all bet good money that it was DIRECTLY from Meghan. And that's why Harry kept saying in his interviews (even though its sounded FUCKING ABSURD due to the content of the book) that he wanted to reconcile with his family, that he loved them, that he had no intention of hurting them... he was basically publicly apologizing and asking them to take him back without straight up saying "I'm sorry, please take us back" on international TV.

The silence now isn't a reaction to the book reaction - it's a reaction to the jubilee, to the funeral, to the docuseries, and to the book. Silence is the ONLY recourse she has right now because saying or doing anything (barring an outright public apology) is going to dig them further into a hole and they literally, financially, probably can't afford that.

[sweetstarart]

Ahoy neighbors!! Here was Cap'n Barnaby's day! (Meant to post this sooner, but I kinda got lazy. Isn't that fitting?)

Sunrise

It's morning but I don't wanna get up... Someone's gotta sail though, and I don't wanna bother anyone else with something I could do myself. Eh, not my friends at least.

Wally's already awake, he says that his necklace ghost is gonna steer today. I don't trust that thing one bit, and I definitely don't want it controlling my mama's ship. I was gonna ask them to leave but the strangest thing happened. I got a chill down my spine, and suddenly I wasn't feeling too good. I swear that ghost has got something to do with it. But I can't prove that. Maybe I just need some sleep, or if I'm lucky, some medicine.

Noon

It's been hours now, I still can't sleep. My head is spinning and all can think about is that dumb ghost. I bet they're so proud of themself right now. I'd have tossed in the sea by now if Wally didn't like them so much. I hope he changes his mind, that thing is dangerous. Howdy came by, I think he realized I'm not actually sleeping. I'm real glad to have him around. We told eachother jokes and stuff while he made me take like, a bazillion potions. Thought it seemed like a little much for just a real long dizzy spell. But he said he read about this in his book, a failed possession. I KNEW THAT GHOST WAS BEHIND THIS! I wanna chew them up so bad....

But I gotta use my head right now, and think of a way outta this mess. I think my best bet is to act like I don't know, lure them into a sense of security like a fish, then CHOMP THEM WHEN THEY LEAST EXPECT IT! NO ONE THREATENS MY CREW AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!!!!

Uh... anyways, me and Howdy chatted til I fell asleep, I love it when he does that. I wanna do that everyday.

Sunset

Sounds like the crew found something to do while I was lazing around, there's tons of sounds coming from the deck. I came up and everyone was playing some kinda instrument except Wally. Poor kid looked a bit left out. I don't really wanna, but maybe playing a bit will make him play too.

It worked! He's singing! His voice sounds real swell, he could sing a real good shanty if he wanted to. I shant help but think about it! I'm having fun, why not joke around a bit? Haha!! Today's finally starting to come a-song! Better yet, I think I smell sharks in the water! Tonight our food will be gilly yummy! No wait, tonight's dinner will be fincredible!

Yeah, that's way better.

Night

Wally wanted to help me and Frank cook today! Since I didn't wanna beat around the hook, I decided to ask him what's the deal with that ghost. He calls them Home for some reason and says that they're very close. He refused to elaborate. That made me even more suspicious. I was gonna say more but Frank got mad at us for clowning around. I told him that as a pirate, I think he should stop taking things so seariously. He was so mad! Anyways, we talked at supper like usual but I still couldn't get Home outta my mind, especially when they're everywhere right now...

Guess Howdy caught onto that because he's knocking at my door right now. I just can't hide nothing from you How!

#fanart #art #drawing #barnaby welcome home #barnaby fanart #barnaby beagle #barnaby beagle fanart #barnaby b beagle #wh barnaby #wally welcome home #howdy welcome home #barnaby x howdy #welcome home ahoy! #welcome home au #welcome home art #welcome home #tomorrow will be about Howdy #also him and Barn arent dating yet that's kinda been retconned #they still have crushes on eachother though!

[love2write2626]

Paint My Horizon 3

Chapter 3

Y/N’s P.O.V

It didn’t take long for Jake to win me over… we haven’t crossed the friendship line yet, but it’s definitely around the corner. I hate to admit I am falling head over heels for him, the one thing I never even considered a possibility, I was so sure the moment I turned him down he would just move on to the next woman he found attractive.

It’s been several weeks since we became friends, and I find myself anticipating his arrival already having his drink ready when he gets here. I’ve gotten a few stern looks from Penny because there are a few times he has distracted me… but she also knows how I feel about him, she is the one friend that I have I can talk to about guys, I feel a little weird talking to Maverick about this subject… I know it makes him uncomfortable too.

I have tonight off, but I didn’t tell Jake that. I decided to surprise him… I put on a sundress, and some cute wedges, and I did my hair and makeup. I feel ridiculous I know I don’t need to dress up for him… I mean we’re not dating. He’s seen me sweaty, my hair messy because I didn’t feel like doing it, and I hardly ever where makeup to work… it just something in me is telling me to dress cute.

I just reached the bar, when I received a text from Jake.

Where are you? Are you ok?

I smiled at the text, when Jake wasn’t being an asshole he could be very sweet. I saw him the minute I walked in, he was sitting in one of the bar stools next to the pool table, I’m assuming waiting for his turn. I walked up behind him, rested my chin on his shoulder… I know that’s a very girlfriend thing to do but I couldn’t help myself especially after getting a whiff of his cologne. He turned his head and smiled

“Hey”

“Hi” I walked in front of him, his eyes went wide, and I felt some joy running through my body when I saw the affect my outfit was having on him.

“You look… you look beautiful” he said clearing his throat.

“I have the night off, and I thought we could hang out”

“Hang out?”

“Yeah, have dinner talk… friends do that Jake” I said with a teasing smile

“Friends… right” I rolled my eyes

“Come on, dinner’s on me tonight”

“No, absolutely not. I’m paying”

“Fine… but you should know if I pay… dinner is free because I work here” he smiled

“You’re a cheeky thing you know that?”

“I know” I said giggling, I grabbed his hand to pull him to the booth and I felt a tingles down my spine, something about holding his hand felt right. I walked us over to a booth in the back where we wouldn’t be bothered. Jake didn’t say anything but he definitely liked this idea. When we sat down he said

“You brought your art book, I see” he said with a smile “are you finally going to show me something?”

“Actually… I thought I would draw something for you” he gave me a shocked look but said

“Really?” I nodded

“What would you like me to draw?”

“How about me with my jet?”

“I don’t know what your jet looks like?” I said with a giggle, he pulled out his wallet and inside was a picture of him with his jet. “You keep this with you at all times?” I asked

“I feel like its good luck” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Ok, while I’m drawing you I need you… and this is important and it may be difficult for you… I need you to stay still and no talking. He smirked

“I can do that”

“Can you?” I asked

“I’ll tell you what, if I don’t talk and stay completely still… you have to play a game of my choosing after” I raised my eye brows in a questioning look

“Ok… as long as it’s not pool I know you love it, but I suck” he smiled “What happens if you talk?” I asked

“I won’t let you use your employee discount and I will pay for dinner” I smiled

“Ok, deal” he sat up straight

“Is this good?” he asked

“Yes” I replied

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It took about a half our, and I could tell towards the end he was becoming antsy… but there was no way he was going to lose a bet over this. I kept looking at him, and the jet to make sure I got all the details and I finally said

“You can relax I’m done” he sighed

“Damn, I thought I was going to lose… staying that still, and not talking was difficult” I giggled “Can I see it?” I clutched my art book to my chest

“What if you don’t like it? What if you think its…”

“Y/N, relax… I’m going to love it”

“How do you know?” he gave me a look “Ok fine” he smiled and held his hand out to me and I handed the book over to him” as he turned it over to look at it I hid my face in my hands scared to see his reaction. After about a minute of not hearing anything from him, I peeked my head up and I saw him looking at it in shock “I’m sorry I know it’s bad” I tried to grab it from him, but he swatted my hand away

“Bad, Y/N… this is amazing. I honestly think… wow I mean this is incredible”

“You really think so?” I asked

“Darlin’ I can tell you, this is better than photo taken of me”

“Jake c’mon don’t lie”

“I’m not lying… can I keep this?”

“Uh, yeah” I said, he pushed the book back over to me and said

“Can you sign it to make it authentic?” I rolled my eyes, and quickly signed it

“There you go” I said gently ripping it from the book, He placed it on the table and smiled

“Got any paper I can use?”

“Umm, yeah why?”

“I won the bet so you have to play a game with me”

“What game?” he smirked, but said nothing. He took the paper out of my hand, and started writing something down, when he finally showed it to me I couldn’t help but laugh. “Hangman? Really?”

“Yup” he said with a smile “C’mon and sit next to me, its easier to play that way” I gave him a ‘really?’ look but decided what the hell. I sat down next to him and let the game begin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

20 minutes later we had already played about 8 games because, he was making them too easy to guess.

“Are we done yet? I’m hungry I want to order some food”

“One last round” he said with a pouty lip, which made him look do adorable

“Fine… whats the topic?”

“Something I want to do”

“Something, you want to do?” I asked him “That’s not a topic you use in hangman”

“I’m hangman… so I make the rules” I rolled my eyes, but watched as he got this round ready “Ok go”

“You already know what I’m going to say… start with the vowels”

“I still say that’s cheating” he mumbled but filled all the spaces out, I looked at the blank spaces and started guess random letters. Eventually I got to one letter left and I was very, very clear what he wanted to do

“You want to kiss me?” he smiled

“Very much” I was suddenly so nervous… of course I wanted this. I have been imagining this for a few weeks… I liked him a lot… fuck it I’ve fallen for him.

“What’s stopping you?” I asked, his smile got even bigger

“Yeah?” I nodded, and leaned forward “Are you sure?” I didn’t say anything, I forcefully pushed my lips onto his, I expected Jake to react with just as much force but surprisingly he didn’t, he took control of the kiss quickly, and it was slow, sweet, sexy, and I know he would never admit it but It was full of love too. We made out for a few minutes, and when we finally broke apart he rested his forehead on mine and I whispered

“That was really nice”

“It was better than nice” he replied back “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had” I pulled away from him “What’s wrong?” he asked

“I need to tell you something, but I don’t want to scare you off because well I…”

“You won’t scare me off”

“’I’ve fallen for you” I said quickly looking at the ground scared to meet his eyes. He put his finger under my chin, and lifted it up

“I’ve fallen for you too, baby you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I thing I think of when I go to sleep, I dream of us too”

“Really���

“Yeah… so I guess I have a question for you”

“What?” I asked

“Will you be mine?” I smiled brightly, and brought my lips back to his “Is that a yes?” he asked when we broke apart

“Hell yes” I replied

@luckyladycreator2  @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @blue-aconite @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @peaches-1999 @callsign-blue

I hope you enjoy this! Please comment and let me know what you think!

#hangman imagine #hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman x female!reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun x oc #hangman top gun

[krethes]

Unfinished Friday

Got the idea from @tackytigerfic and lordy lordy lordy loo do I feel perceived 🤣

Soo this is a 7th year Marauder fic I started back in 2021 at the behest of the Wolfstar Discord that never quite got its feet off the ground.

“Oh, come on, Remus, it’ll be fun!”

He raised a brow and turned the page of his book without looking up. “No, thank you.”

A sigh. A familiar rustling of robes. The smell of rose and ginger. A flash of red hair. A press of pale fingers down the spine of his book. “Remus John Lupin, I hereby invoke the Favor.” Lily Evans regarded him with eyes like fresh spring clover, her free hand cocked on her hip as she leaned into his personal space. They were only about a foot apart now, and there was no escaping The Look.

He sighed, wrested his book from her punishing grip, and closed it neatly in his lap. “Of course you do,” Remus bemoaned softly, tucking the tome into the bag at his feet. There was nothing for it -- the Favor was one they traded often, something owed that passed between them almost as a joke. Normally, it was a quick glance over homework or something like ‘I can’t be arsed to get up and Our Boys are not around, so please could you fetch me a tea?’, not… this. “I’ve never played before.”

Lily smiled, her entire face lighting up with the gesture, light radiating from every pore. Merlin, but she was lovely, wasn’t she? Remus found himself swept up in it, and had to staunchly squash down the urge to smile back -- he was trying to be cross with her, smiling would ruin the whole thing. “But you’ve watched, haven’t you? Matches with your dad, right, on the telly? I’ll bet you know the rules better than I do.” She batted her eyelashes at him, long, mascara-dark things that got him every time. Girls.

She was trying to butter him up -- he knew this, knew her tricks after six years of friendship, and yet… It worked. Like a fucking charm. And it was The Favor, after all. 

“I do know the rules,” he admitted quietly, steepling his fingers together. His childhood had been rather lonely, after all -- mornings stretching into afternoons that lazed into evenings without other children to play with meant that Remus spent a great deal of his time reading or joining his parents at the television set. He’d been particularly fascinated by the game, of the men and women in peak physical fitness sprinting across a green field in shiny shirts and shorts, and it was the only time his father ever seemed to get excited about anything anymore. So Remus had been drawn to it, as much as he was to the sea, and absorbed the complexities of the game in his knowledge-sponge way.

“So…?” Lily wrapped her hands around his and pulled him to his feet with a little bounce, victory clear as day on her sunny face. At his nod of assent, she hugged him fiercely around the middle, her face tucked into his sternum in glee. “Yes, amazing! Right. So, you’ll be on my team!”

“Aren’t you...splitting them by genders?” He might be bent, but he wasn’t a girl. 

Lily shrugged. “Technically, but that’s just to foster some inner-team solidarity since we’re mixing the Houses.” She frowned faintly, the tiniest moue forming between her eyebrows. “Not much interest from some of the other students, I’m afraid. They don’t… want to be associated with a Muggle game.” 

She didn’t have to explain why -- it was plain. A Muggle game meant being labeled as a Muggle Sympathizer, as a Blood Traitor, even. They weren’t stupid -- they all knew there was a war on the horizon, about to come to a boil, but...they were still kids, weren’t they? Of-Age wizards, certainly, but only Peter and Sirius were eighteen in their little band, and they still deserved a spot of fun. 

“Besides,” she said, fixing him with a coy grin, “you’ll finally get to help me put Potter in his place! Black, too, I guess.” 

Remus snorted, shaking his head. “You can call him ‘James’, you know. You’re dating.”

“Don’t remind me,” she teased, though the look on her face -- doe-eyed and rosy-cheeked -- gave her away in a heartbeat. Their relationship was very new -- only a couple of weeks old, but Remus knew she was absolutely smitten with James Potter. “So, we’ll practice on Wednesdays and once McGonagall gets it cleared, we’ll have matches on Sundays! Potter-- alright, James, ugh -- was deadset we didn’t interfere with his ‘precious Quidditch’, but they’ll be early afternoons so don’t you start with me about your studies, Remus Lupin. I’m taking more N.E.W.T.s than you, I don’t want to hear it!”

Her rambling muted him, and he shut his mouth with an audible click. Well alright, then. Remus knew better than to argue when she was in full sail like this. The HMS Lily Evans was truly a force to be reckoned with. “Wait… the club hasn’t even been approved yet?” he asked, incredulous. It was unlike Lily to come into this half-cocked. Her sign-up sheet, though not as flush as she’d like to be, had an impressive amount of names on it. It would be a decent number of people to let down…

She pulled thoughtfully on her lower lip in a familiar nervous tic. “Well… Professor McGonagall seemed very confident she could get it approved… I trust her!” she decided, releasing her lip with a nod to herself. 

Remus grinned and ruffled her hair, earning him a well-placed jab to the ribs. “Alright, alright. Wednesdays and Sundays, then. I’ll clear my schedule.” 

***

Minerva had been delighted to hear about Lily Evans’s club idea -- football, indeed! Oh, she hadn’t seen a live match since she was just a girl, and even then, it was only the lads at the local co-op putting it on for a lark. She smiled to herself as she bustled down the corridors towards the Headmaster’s office, remembering those games. She announced the password -- ‘Curly Wurly’ -- and adjusted the fit of her hat. One had to look their best, after all.

Albus looked up from his desk and greeted her with a nod. “Ah, Minerva, welcome. You have a proposition for me, I hear?” He did not stop the quill scrawling across his desk, nor rise to greet her. That was fine, he was a busy man.

“Yes, Albus. Lily Evans would like to start an intramural football club.”

The quill came to a scratching pause, and he searched her face with pale blue eyes. “I cannot say that I can support a club that would only create more animosity between the Houses, Minerva -- Quidditch has done a fair enough job of that as it is, don’t you think?” 

She resisted the urge to tidy her hat again -- Albus had such a long way of speaking, never quite saying what he meant. Fortunately, she’d had decades of experience of dissecting his speech patterns, and had come prepared. “I agree, Albus,” she began, watching the flicker of light behind his eyes, “but this will be a mixed-House club. Miss Evans proposed a boys against girls game.”

“And do you think that to be entirely fair?”

Minerva frowned, drawing herself up a little straighter. “Albus, you are not implying that the girls cannot hold their own, surely?” It was 1977, for Godric’s sake!

The smallest of smiles unfurled across his lips and a familiar twinkle entered his eyes, one Minerva hadn’t seen in years. “Ah, of course not. I am certain Miss Evans will give anyone who thinks so a run for their money. Am I to assume you will be the faculty sponsor for this club, Minerva?”

Her schedule was quite full as it was, but perhaps she could convince Pomona to take on a bit more detention proctoring this term… “Yes, you assume correctly. Are we aligned?” She fixed him with a look of cautious anticipation, and only her rigid self-control kept her from Shifting into the cat at his nod of assent. “Thank you, Albus. I will keep you posted of the matches.” Minerva gave him a brief nod, took a cinnamon candy from his desk, and left his office feeling quite giddy indeed.

Football!

***

"Moony-moon-Moony, wait-- where are you going-- and ...AUGH!!! You're not!" 

"Traitor!"

"Padfoot, Wormtail, we knew this was a matter of time."

"Just-- maybe he has an explanation. You have an explanation, don't you, Moonfish?"

"Oof, Pads, that one's not very flattering, strike it?"

"Ah, yes, too right, Mr. Prongs, and duly noted. Well, Mr. Moony, what do you have to say for yourself!?" 

Remus looked at his three closest friends from across the white line painted on the Quidditch-turned-football Pitch with thinly veiled ire. "I'm not sure I understand the question, Padfoot-in-my-mouth." 

Sirius scoffed and gestured wildly at Remus's uniform. "Why, Moony, is your uniform...white?" He gestured to his own, very black, shirt and shorts. 

"Well, I'll tell you," Remus declared, leaning in all conspiratorial-like until he was fully in Sirius's space -- not, he noticed, that he minded. He cupped Sirius's face in his hands and inwardly rejoiced at how he practically melted, and smirked. "I wanted to be on the winning team."

"Oi!!! Out of bounds, Lupin! Foul! Card! Whatever… that means. Moony, you have betrayed us!" James cried from a few feet away, his face aghast. "What makes you so sure the lads are going to lose?"

Remus looked at the black-clad boys scattered across the field and cocked an eyebrow. They were...a motley group, to be honest, and largely pureblood. Xenophilius Lovegood was trying to coax a bit of rogue heather he'd brought in his pocket to take root in the grass of the Pitch. Peter was missing his protective shin guards. Damocles Belby looked a bit winded already, his ruddy cheeks even more crimson than they usually were. The other six boys just...looked a bit lost. Compared to the girl's team, which held Remus, Lily, Marlene, Mary, Sibyll -- not their best get, admittedly -- and a few younger girls Remus was embarrassed not to know the names of yet, they looked a bit... lacking.

Lily appeared at his side and glared at James with her hands on her hips. "Oi, Potter, don't harass my goalkeep," she snapped, though her frown quickly tilted up into a smirk. 

"Moony's my boyfriend," Sirius muttered sourly, casting sad, gray eyes up at Remus that made him feel just a little guilty. Nevermind, he'd make it up to Sirius later, do that thing he liked with his 

His ?? Teacup? Tongue? Wand? Textbook? No clue.

If you wanna...and if you qualify (most of you are way more responsible than me...): @msalexwp @r33sespieces @theresthesnitch (shh shh I know), @second-sister @elder-millennial-trash @quietlemonhush @aqua-myosotis and anyone else who wants to out themselves as a procrastinator 🤣

#unfinished friday #oof #it me #intermural #not to be confused with intercrural #though tbh i think that's what remus was talking about #marauders #wip #my fics #tag game

[sadinasaphrite]

Whumptober Day 26 - Azul

Teenage Azul gets bullied, but doesn’t have to deal with it alone.

No. 26 NO ONE LEFT BEHIND

Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”

Read on AO3!

Fic under the cut!

Azul hated field trips. What was the point of leaving the classroom to “experience education” first hand when they could learn just as well in school? They could have been reading a book that concisely summarized the rise and fall of the Chondrich Kingdom. Instead, they were out here, in the middle of a cluttered kelp forest, looking at crumbling ruins like this was supposed to help them learn something. They had a worksheet they were supposed to fill out for this trip, of course, a sort of scavenger hunt among the ruins.

The students scattered the moment they reached the forest, vanishing into the thick kelp in a flash of gleaming scales. Azul, as always, was left behind. Good. That’s how he liked it. Let the others run off and leave him alone. He’d focus on getting through his dumb scavenger hunt as soon as possible, and then spend the rest of the trip curled up somewhere safe and out of view. Maybe he’d even have enough time to write up a few contracts. He’d been eyeing an upperclassman with a talent for invisibility magic who had a crush on a girl in his class. That sounded like an excellent opportunity for a Deal.

The thick kelp made his usual ballooning method of swimming a nightmare, so he chose instead to crawl along the seabed. All the ruins were down on the ground anyway. As he traveled from one ruin to the next, he caught flashes of gleaming scales through the kelp and echoes of laughter.

Ugh. Field trips were nothing more than a distraction and an excuse for airhead merfolk to goof off. And now that they were teenagers instead of little kids, there were never enough chaperones or supervisors to watch all the students, and someone always got themselves into trouble.

“Heeeeey, look who I found!”

And speaking of trouble…

“Little Azu-zu! Whatchu doing down there on the ground? Too fat to swim?”

Three merfolk with bright, flashy tails emerged from the kelp and surrounded him. Azul pulled his tentacles close and shrank in on himself.

“Don’t you know we were supposed to partner up?”

“Awwww, did no one want to get stuck with Zu-Zu?”

“Ugh, I wouldn’t. He’d just cry the whole time and get ink all over our worksheets!”

“Did you know his ink stains?”

“Yeah, that’s why his tentacles are all black. He can’t stop pissing himself!”

The mers broke into laughter and continued to circle him. Azul entwined his tentacles with each other, clinging to himself for comfort, and looked for an escape, but he couldn’t see anything through the thick rows of kelp.

“Leave me alone,” he said. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“You mean these?” An orange-tailed mer waved his worksheet. “Yeah, we’re already done. So now we’re bored.”

“I bet you haven’t even started, stuck on the ground like a barnacle!”

Azul picked a direction and started crawling. He hunched his shoulders and wrapped his arms around himself, hoping that if he ignored them, the bullies would get bored and wander off. They followed, jeering.

“Aww, where you going, Azul?”

“Looking for an octopus pot to cry in?”

“Don’t cry, Zuly! How embarrassing! And at your age, too!”

“Big fat tears for a big fat baby!”

A mermaid with electric blue scales slid in close and then darted away, flicking her tailfin just right so the tips of her fins whipped against his back. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark, but it was sure hard enough to sting.

“Don’t cry!”

The orange tailed merman joined in, followed by the red-striped merman, until all three of them were circling him and taking turns whipping Azul with their tails.

“Don’t cry!” They chanted as they followed him. “Don’t cry, don’t cry!”

Traitorous tears welled in his eyes. Why? Why were they doing this? Why wouldn’t anyone just leave him alone? At least when he was a kid, the bullying had all been verbal, but this hurt!

“Stop!” Azul shouted. “Stop it!”

“Stop it!” They replied in a mockery of his upset tone. “Stop it, boo hoo!”

The next flick struck him in the face and knocked his glasses off. In a flash of blue scales, one of the mers snatched the glasses before Azul could retrieve them.

“Oh no! Now he’s fat, sad, ugly, and blind!”

“Hey! Give those back! I need them!” Azul kicked off the ground and spread his arms and tentacles wide, trying to retrieve his glasses, but the world had been reduced to a blur of blue and brown, with occasional flashes of brightly colored scales.

“Ohhhh, look out! He finally heaved his bloated blubber up off the ground!”

“Blind and fat, blind and fat!”

“Try and catch us, blubbering blubber baby!”

Resentment turned into a simmering rage that was well on its way to boiling.

“Stop it!” Azul lashed out blindly with his tentacles, only seizing slimy leaves of kelp for his efforts. “Give me my glasses back!”

“Or what? What are you gonna do if we just—”

The snap of breaking turtle shell rang clear as a bell through the water.

“Oops!” A mer laughed. “Too late now!”

Azul’s heart dropped. Those glasses were expensive!!! His mother was in the middle of a messy divorce with his deadbeat father, and they didn’t have any disposable income to spare! What was she going to say when he came home without his glasses? How were they going to work a new pair of glasses into their already tight budget? The merfolk continued to laugh around him, oblivious of the devastating blow they’d just landed to Azul’s little family.

Azul’s blood ran hot and he lashed out with a thick tentacle. This time, his blow struck true, and he hit the mer hard enough to send them spinning head over tail.

The mer screamed and something inside Azul smiled with dark satisfaction.

“Ow! Fuck, that hurt!!! What the fuck, fattass?”

“Leave me alone, or I’ll do it again!” Azul shouted, emboldened by his success.

“Oh, hell no. No, you don’t get away with that.”

“Yeah, you’re going to regret that!”

A bright blue tail struck him in the back, no longer with just the stinging fin tips, but a hard blow with the thick tail. A second tail struck him in the gills, and a third hit a tentacle. Azul tried to lash out, but they were watching out for his tentacles now, and while Azul was strong, he certainly wasn’t fast. They darted in and out between his tentacles, slapping and beating him with their tails. The red-striped merman had dorsal spines on the back of his tail, and he struck Azul in the flank hard enough to break skin, blood blossoming into the water.

Azul thrashed and fought back the best he could, but couldn’t keep up with the merfolk’s speed at the best of times, much less while he was blind. Instead, his lashing tentacles were becoming tangled in the pillars of kelp as he fought.

One of the mers noticed.

“Here we go!” She shouted. “Tie him up!”

Kelp wrapped and twisted around his tentacles, tangling him further and further. Rage turned to fear like he’d been plunged into ice, and Azul struggled.

“Stop! Let me go!!! Help, help!!!”

“What’s this?” A new voice appeared above him. Azul looked up to find two identical green forms drifting above him, backlit by the sparkling surface far above.

“Ehehehe… I thought I smelled blood in the water.”

The Leech twins? They’d been annoyingly persistent in following Azul around ever since they confronted him a few weeks ago, letting him know that they knew about the contracts he’d been making. But why? What in the seas did they want from him?

And why were they here now?”

“Three against one doesn’t seem fair, does it Floyd?”

“Not fair at all, Jade.”

“Get out of here, eel-freaks,” The orange mer said. “Mind your own business.”

The eels drifted in lazy circles above Azul’s head.

“What do you think, Floyd? Is this any of our concern?”

“Seems to me like they’re messing with something that belongs to us. I’d say that definitely makes it our problem.”

Wait, what?

“You have to the count of one to let him go,” an eel said, though Azul wasn’t sure which one.

“Huh?” The blue mer slapped her tail in annoyance. “Look, just get out of here and we won’t—”

“One.”

The eels moved like lightning, diving toward them faster than Azul could track. What followed was a blur. The mers shrieked and shouted around him, and their bright tails flashed through the water, along with the green streaks of the twins, but without his glasses, the details were lost on Azul.

The fight (or whatever was happening) only lasted a few seconds, then the mers vanished back into the kelp. There was a snap, and the kelp restraining Azul loosened, freeing his tentacles. Azul shrugged off the last of the kelp and sank back to the seabed. A blurry green shape followed him down and circled behind him.

“Mmmmm… looks like they scratched you pretty good,” said the eel. “Not too deep, though. Probably gonna stop bleeding soon.”

“Ah, that’s good to know… Jade?”

“Hah!” The eel laughed and moved in front of him with a flick of his tail. “No, I’m Floyd! Jade’s over there getting your glasses. Wow, you really are blind without ‘em, huh?”

A second green blur joined them.

“It appears the lenses are intact, but they snapped the frames in half,” Jade said. “I may be able to tie them back together… Give me a moment… ahah!”

Jade slid Azul’s glasses back on his face, and Azul’s vision came back into focus to see the two eels looking at him expectantly. Azul remained silent, weighing his words carefully.

“It won’t hold for long,” Jade finally said after a few moments of silence. “But it’ll probably last you until the end of the day when you can get some proper glue.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Azul finally said.

“Eh?” Floyd tilted his head in confusion. “Pretty sure you were the one down there yelling ‘Help! Heeeeelp!’”

Azul scowled and turned away, heading for his fallen worksheet. “Fine. What do you want in return?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Jade asked, both of them following him.

“Nothing comes without a price,” Azul said, “so name yours.”

“A price? That’s not why we whipped those mers!”

“Then why?” Azul turned abruptly to face them with a scowl. “Why did you save me? You had no apparent reason, so there must be something else you want.”

The twins exchanged a glance before looking back at Azul.

“Because it was fun,” Floyd said, as if it were the most simple thing in the world. “It was a great excuse to trash some mer tail.”

“And is that the only reason?” Azul narrowed his eyes.

“Of course not.”

“We think you’re interesting!” Floyd said. “We wanna see what you do next!”

Azul remained unconvinced. Jade chuckled and continued.

“Let’s say… we consider you an investment,” Jade said, “and we want to see how things play out around you.”

Mollified, but still skeptical, Azul relaxed.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Azul hesitated, “and… you did help me today. …Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have you two hanging around the next time I get picked on. But I warn you, if you turn on me, you’ll both regret it!”

Identical grins spread across the twins’ faces.

“Deal!”

“Hey, look!” Floyd darted away and picked something up off the ground. “One of those scaredy-scallops dropped their worksheet! Now we can just copy their answers and goof around the rest of the trip!”

“Good find,” Jade said, swimming over to join him. He inspected the worksheet. “Nothing looks obviously wrong… if there is a wrong answer, then we’ll say we were all in the same group and we got it wrong together.”

“Awesome! C’mon, let’s go find something cooler than kelp and boring old rocks!”

Both the eels turned and extended a clawed hand toward Azul.

“Come explore with us!” Floyd grinned.

Azul’s breath caught in his chest, gills flaring at the sight of these two strange mers actually wanting to spend time with him. Against his better judgment, Azul took their hands.

“Okay,” he said breathlessly.

Azul held them tight and followed them into the unknown.

#whumptober2022 #No.26 #Why did you save me? #Twisted Wonderland #Fic #Azul Ashengrotto #Floyd Leech #Jade Leech

[inthewaytoamultilinguallife]

Any tips on how to deal with learning multiple languages and forgetfulness? Like M’s really wants to learn as many languages as he can, but is afraid of ending up forgetting some of them in the way, he knows that a lot of people have this fear

Forgetting a language is, as you said, a very common fear indeed. I’m actually surprised that, given that, is not more talked about or discussed.  There are many tips, blogs, and YouTube channels dedicated to learning a language, but very little on how to maintain it. 

To be honest with you, this is also one of my fear. Languages in general, and knowing quite a few of them (compared to what is the norm in my country) was always important to me. And so I spend a lot of time trying to find the perfect solution to never forgetting my languages, finding very little help from others.  

Somewhere along the way, I found that the only way *I* could prevent this from happening *to me*, was by using each language every day. The easiest way to forget a language is to never or almost never using it, so one of the best thing you could do is actually use the language as much as you can. 

However, as I soon found out, this is really hard, especially with a lot of languages. You have to keep track of all of them, plus actually manage to get all of them into your daily routine and do it in an organized way. And you have to do all of that without using one more than the other, too. It’s, putting it easily, messy, disorganized, and frustrating. But, hard does not mean impossible. And so i made a few rules for myself:

Include each language in your routine.

 I find it is easier to include them in a routine you already have, and not making a new one around the languages you want to maintain. 

So, the first step to maintaining a language would be to write down your routine. Everything that you do, including getting up, and brushing your teeth. Write down as well all your hobbies and things you do for fun in your free time. Do you read? use tumblr? watch tv or series? Do you do crochet or sew plushies? write it all down. If each day has a different routine, write the different routine for each day. 

Then, identify which activity or hobby requires or uses languages. Most of them do, i bet, even if you don’t think so at first. For example, when i first started doing this, i was still in high school and having physical education/ gym class. We mostly just ran and ran. Not much to do with language, right? Except that after thinking about it a little, i realized i always mentally counted my steps as i ran, or started making a mental list of all the things i needed to do later. That involves language, since you have to resort to choosing a language to do all that thinking on. In my case, it was Spanish, my mother tongue. 

And here is where the 3rd step comes in: Change the language you use in each activity. For example, following my example with my gym class, I identified an activity that -in my case- required a language: counting and planning my routine for that day while running. The next step to follow would be identifying the language you use the most when doing said activity and change it. In my case, as i said, it was my mother tongue, spanish. I changed the counting part to French, because i wanted to memorize better the numbers, and the planning to Portuguese. 

Do this for as many activities as you think you need. And as i said before, it is better -or maybe just easier- to change the language of an activity that you already do, than adding a new activity to your routine. This will help you actually remember that you have to do said activity and to keep consistency with both the activity and the language changing. It will also help you keep organized and not overuse one language over the others

If you need help visualizing this, some activities I have changed the language i do them in are: reading books, watching films and series, researching and reading something for school, talking to friends, thinking, counting, reading and watching tutorials for sewing or crochet, going to conferences, writing in my journal, watching videos in youtube, daydreaming, using the configuration section of several apps, doing quick searches on google, swearing, keeping track of my hearing loss, learning new skills, writing random things down, singing, looking up a definition of a word regardless of its language, talking aloud to myself, adding little notes on my drawings, planning my routine, going to class, labelling things at home, making lists for shopping, talking to my pets etc

 Include new little doable ways to use the language you want to learn/remember. 

Ok, i know i said it was easier to just change the language of an activity that you already do than adding another one to your routine. I still stand for it, especially if you have problems remembering things. But it is not bad considering adding a few small activities or habits. For example, you can start counting the steps you take in a pair of stairs or when walking, or counting the trees you go by when on the bus. You can start singing when making breakfast, and pay attention to the lyrics, or you can start watching/reading the news while you have breakfast. You can start journaling or writing in your drawings, you can join new apps or start playing video games. You can start a new blog or learn to sew, or making lists or whatever. 

My only rule for this is to start little by little and stick to doable activities. If you try to add many things to your routine AND change the language you do them in, it’s very likely you will end up overwhelmed and give up. Start low, changing things little by little. Once a thing has become part of your daily routine, add another one. 

Some things I’ve added to my routine, for example, have been going to conferences and talks related to my university career (linguistics), as well as assisting to classes and workshops that were given by visiting professors from afar. They were given in either English, portuguese or uruguayan sign language. They are not, of course, part of my daily routine, but i keep an eye on when they are making a new one, and make sure to always go. 

I’ve also made sure to make friends and keep in touch with most of my university’s exchange students, and we talk in their native language, which makes up for perfect practice. I also always make a point of going to any Deaf event or activity that is free, as well as making as many Deaf friends as i can. However, there is no need to jump right all in and go join a local language group or start taking university classes in your target language in day one. I've over a decade of experience in this and have already made my way up.

Designate days and times for each language.

Learning each language whenever you feel like it will create more trouble for you, make the forgetting worse, and make you feel overwhelmed and frustrated. A way to counter this is via a good structural learning routine. You can designate specific days to languages even if you don’t take language classes and even if you use all the languages each day.

What designating a day to a language means is just basically that, in that day, you will focus more in that language. Mondays are Sundays are for studying French, and Tuesday and Thursday for learning English grammar, etc, for example. You can even adapt this given your routine: for example, in my case Monday, Wednesday and Saturday are uruguayan sign language days, because my sign language classes are Mondays and Wednesday, and Saturdays are when most Deaf events take place. 

Assigning times will help you even if you struggle at keeping routines, too. It’s like assigning days, but instead of whole days, you make it times of the day. Instead of using or learning a language during the entire day, you can do it only in the morning, and in the afternoon you can switch to another language. All you have to do is keep that order as much as you can without switching them up. This will help keep the languages more separated in your mind and help you not mix their grammars and rules and pronunciation etc

Try avoiding learning languages that are too similar at the same time.

You can, of course, do just that, but it will probably cause much more trouble for you than learning several languages at the same time already does. If you do take up two or more languages that are too similar, try taking the second language when you already know some of the others. For example, i did study portuguese and french together, but i was already an A2 level in portuguese when i took up french. And while i was studying English thought all that time too, English was sufficiently different that i didn't struggle with it

In general, take up another language only when you already know some of the other. A2 or B1 of the cfer level chart are both good levels to start at. 

But also, you don't have to learn all the languages at the same time. You don't have to even be learning two languages at the same time. I feel like nowadays this is a thing many of us need to be remained of, alongside with "take your time learning a language". There is a huge push from society and many polyglots blogs and channels to learn a whole language in months and to learn 3 or 4 at the same time, but believe me: many of those people? don't really know as much as they say they do. Many can barely talk in the languages they claim fluency on. But regardless of that, you will learn more if you take your time learning. You will also enjoy it way more this way, and just have a more less anxious and depressed life if you take your time.

Take my word as someone that has been learning minimum two languages at the same time since they were 10yo, and reached the 4 languages at the same time by the time they were 18yo. I'm 20 now, and only actively learning 1 language, and i could cry from how much better it is this way. Just. take your time. enjoy the journey and don't try to fast speed it.

If you forgot to keep the routine ...well, then now is the best time to do it

If for some reason you forget to go to a class or to sit down and study on your own when you were supposed to do it, PLEASE, don't give yourself shit for it. Do the studying right there when you remembered. Or the next time you are supposed to, if you have/want to keep your routine. And if you end up forgetting so many classes or studying sections that you end up forgetting some (or even all!) of what you had learned... just pick up the language as soon as you can and go on. Even if it has been weeks, months, whole years. Don't think too much about it and keep studying, keep using the language. Start again as slow as you need to, but start again.

Even a little is better than nothing, and late is better than never

DO NOT FORGET TO USE YOUR MOTHER TONGUE.

Believe me, you are most at risk of dong this than you think when you are managing so many languages at once. Always use your mother tongue. Don’t just use the languages you are learning or have learned. Find little ways to include your mother tongue in your routine and/or chose a designated day of the week for using it. For example, there was a time where during each Saturday i will purposely look up Uruguayans shows and films and songs to watch and listen to to keep close to my own dialect. Try and do something like that for yours too

#hope anything of this is helpful #i only have my own experience learning many languages at once and trying not to go forgetting what i had learned to go by #if anyone wants to add feel free to do so #there are sections in bold cause my dyslexia is acting up and it helps me with long texts #if there are any sections or phrases that are hard to understand be it bc of wording grammar or spelling mistakes let me know #and i will re write it or explain what i meant to say #(you all have no idea how many times i misspelled language here lmao #and in how many different ways #there was one that started with a g #and another one that had three g's lol #for someone whose life is so centred around languages i really hate writing down that word lol)