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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

Hey Bug! I have a request for a fic just in case you run out of ideas

Eddie gets bullied by Jason and those annoying basketball jerks all th time but doesn't tell anyone. When he sees them at the Hideout before he's about to perform he has a panic attack or something. Y/N is there because she still hasn't gotten over him. :D

Then backstage Y/N comfort's him

exes back to lovers

hurt/comfort

This might be way too specific but...........

;)

K bye

Combining with these two requests!

hello i love your blog so much and you're really one of the best writers here! <3 i'm honestly a slut for the enemies to lovers trope sksksks so i was hoping you could write one for eddie? then maybe sprinkled with a lil bit of jealousy haha thank you so much and ily <333

May i plz request an exes back to lovers with eddie x y/n? Maybe he cheated or something?

Warnings: smut (18+ only minors DNI!!!), fingering, p in v, panic attacks, mentions of cheating, mentions of oral, Jason Carver is present

WC: 3.9k

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the amazing dividers and @usedtobecooler, @trashmouth-richie, and @this-was-bad-sorry for dialogue help!

Reader:

"Babe, where are you taking me?" you ask your boyfriend, snuggling up against him as he just grins and continues driving.

"You'll see," Jason answers teasingly. "I told you that we'll be doing a full 'Welcome Home' tour of Hawkins when you got back from college, and that's what we're gonna do."

Since you'd been home for the summer, he'd brought you to Benny's, Enzo's, Skull Rock, and Lover's Lake. Hawkins is a small town; there wasn't much else to do around here.

You and Jason had been together for six months after you ran into him when you came home for Thanksgiving. You'd bumped into each other at the grocery store, frantically scrambling to buy last-minute ingredients. It was hard to see him; he wasn't nice to you or your friends back in high school. But then he'd apologized, offered to take you out for coffee to show you how much he'd changed, and the rest was history.

Your stomach drops when he pulls into the Hideout parking lot. It brings back memories of watching your ex-boyfriend and his band play there. You and Eddie would fool around backstage until it was time for them to perform, and you would stand in the audience of five drunks and cheer like you were at a Metallica concert. It was a tradition, every Tuesday night.

Wait...

"What day is it?" you mutter to yourself, but Jason thinks you're asking him.

"It's Tuesday," he answers, blissfully unaware of what that means. "Why, you got plans?" he jokes.

You can just manage to shake your head, palms suddenly slick with sweat. Maybe Corroded Coffin didn't play on Tuesday nights anymore. Maybe you wouldn't have to see the man who shattered your heart into a million pieces.

Eddie:

"We're on in twenty minutes," Jeff tells him, slinging the strap of his guitar over his shoulders. "You all tuned up?"

Eddie nods. "Yup, good to go." He glances at his kohl-rimmed eyes in the mirror. Since you two had broken up, he's had to learn how to apply his own eyeliner before shows, but it never looks as good as when you used to do it.

"Uh, guys?" Gareth pokes his head in the room nervously. "I think you might wanna see this."

They make their way to the side of the stage, peering out as inconspicuously as they can. Gareth points out to where Jason is standing at the bar with his tanned arm around some girl.

No...not just some girl, Eddie realizes. It's you.

"What the fuck?" he snarls, heart catching in his throat. "What's she doing with him?" He winces as Jason hands you a watered-down beer and kisses you, making you giggle.

Jeff claps a hand on his friend's back. "I'm sorry, dude," he says gently. "You gonna be okay?"

But Eddie doesn't hear him; doesn't hear anything besides a pounding in his ears. He feels like he's standing outside of his own body. His bandmates keep calling his name to no response.

She's with Jason now. She's done with me and moved onto the prick who made my life miserable for all of high school. I lost her and I'll never get her back. It's over it's over it's over...

"Eddie?" Gareth shakes him, too aware of the way his friend's chest is expanding and contracting at a rapid rate. This isn't the first time Eddie's had a panic attack, but it's the first time you haven't been there to calm him down. "What do we do?" he asks Jeff.

"I-I don't know!" Jeff cries out. "What did Y/N used to do?" He glances over in your direction. "Should I...would she even want to help after...?"

Gareth shrugs. "It's worth a shot!" he surmises, nudging Eddie again. "He's gonna hyperventilate." Tears involuntarily spill down Eddie's cheeks as he murmurs the same phrase again and again:

It's over it's over it's over...

Reader:

You're waiting for Jason to come back with a plate of fries, possibly the greasiest offering in all of Hawkins, when you feel a frantic tapping on your back. Your smile fades when you see Gareth in front of you, panting like he's just run a marathon.

"What do you want?" you hiss, remembering his role in everything that went down last year.

"Look," he starts, "I know you hate me, and you hate Eddie more, but he's having a panic attack backstage and we can't calm him down. I'm worried that he's gonna pass out. Please," he begs, not even bothering to finish his request. You know exactly what he's asking.

There's a knot in your stomach, twisting with your options. You could ditch Jason and help out the guy who cheated on you at your own graduation party, or you can let Eddie suffer and enjoy a night out with your boyfriend. You don't want to see Eddie; the words fuck off are on the tip of your tongue, but you can't help the gnawing feeling pulsing through your conscience.

"Fine," you mutter, and Gareth grabs your wrist and pulls you backstage. Jeff's gotten Eddie to sit on the torn leather sofa, but the man is still breathing too heavily for your liking. His eyes are glazed over, like he's not actually present. It's a sight you've seen before.

"Eddie, it's me," you say softly, trying to keep the resentment out of your voice. "We're backstage at the Hideout, sitting on the couch. Jeff and Gareth are here, too. Ground yourself here." Against your better judgment, you slip your hand under his trembling one. "Squeeze my hand when you're ready." About thirty seconds pass before you feel his fingers grip yours.

"Okay, we're gonna do your exercise together," you tell him. "Five things you see; I'll start." You pick the first thing your eyes land on. "A chair."

Eddie pauses before he gives his answer, voice barely audible. "Th-the coaster," he says finally, referring to the sticky Bud Light coaster on the table.

"Good," you offer a small smile. "I see...Sweetheart," you announce, referring to his guitar.

"Gareth and Jeff." Eddie replies just a bit faster this time, allowing himself back into reality.

"That was two, you overachiever!" you tease. You walk him through the remainder of the exercise: four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. By the time you're done, his breathing has slowed considerably and he's stopped crying.

You turn to his friends, both visibly relieved that the situation has been diffused. "I don't think he should perform tonight, guys," you tell them. "He needs to go home and rest. The adrenaline of being on stage could trigger another one." They nod knowingly, and you stand up to leave.

"Where're y'going?" Eddie mumbles, reaching out for your hand. "Can you stay for a little bit?"

"I, um, have to get back to my date," you tell him, purposely omitting Jason's name. "You'll be okay. Just take care of yourself tonight." You rub his back quickly, almost out of habit. "Gotta go," you add quickly before dashing back out to the bar.

Part of you feels guilty for running out of there, but why should you? You weren't the one who hooked up with Ashley Calloway at the party; that was Eddie. You were too busy trying to make sure everyone was enjoying themselves; Eddie sure was when you found the two of them in the guest bathroom, pants around his ankles and Ashley on her knees in front of him. They were both beyond drunk; you didn't know who initiated, but you really didn't care.

No, you didn't owe Eddie anything. Helping him through his panic attack was nicer than anything he deserved.

"Where'd ya go?" Jason asks, concerned. He pulls you in for a kiss, and it seems more possessive than usual.

"Ladies' room," you lie easily. "Hope you didn't eat all the fries without me!"

He laughs. "Don't worry, I saved a few for my girl." He tugs you closer, eyes scoping out the rest of the bar. "Forgot how grimy this place is," he mutters. "Wanna get out of here after we finish these?" he asks, gesturing towards the plate on the counter.

You nod. "That would be great."

Eddie:

Eddie's sitting in the back of his van; Jeff is driving and Gareth is plunked down in the passenger seat.

"Sorry, guys," he apologizes for what seems like the millionth time. "I don't know what happened back there."

Gareth exhales slowly. "We're just glad you're okay," he says truthfully, "but, dude, you can't be getting this upset whenever you see Y/N with someone else."

"Yeah, I know," Eddie agrees. "But Jason Carver? What does she even see in him?" He groans and leans back in his seat.

Jeff thinks for a moment. "Have you two actually...talked since the party?" he asks. "I know there was a lot of yelling and screaming, but did you ever have a real conversation?"

"Nope." Eddie replies. "She wanted nothing to do with me, and I don't blame her. I fucked up royally." No one can argue with that.

"Maybe you should try that," Jeff suggests. "Like, listen to her, and don't give some shitty excuse for what you did."

Eddie considers this. "What if she doesn't forgive me? What if she still hates me after?" he ponders meekly. "Then what?"

"Then at least you tried," Gareth reasons. "Is it more important that she forgives you, or that she just knows how important she was to you?"

Reader:

The drive home from the Hideout should be passed by peppering kisses to Jason's clean-shaven face while he drives and lacing your fingers into his when he rests his hand on the gearshift. Instead, you're in your own world; a world where you can't stop thinking about Eddie Munson.

It was so stupid, especially after how badly he'd hurt you. You'd heard the unmistakeable sounds of his panting moans coming from the bathroom, and when Jeff and Gareth tried to stop you from investigating, you knew something was amiss. You'd shouted at him until your throat was raw, and then you shouted some more at his friends for protecting the cheating bastard. It was the last time you'd spoken to any of them until tonight.

You look over at your boyfriend, so sweet and wonderful, and you ache to love him fully, to commit to him with your whole being. But you just can't. Because your heart still belongs to the metalhead who broke it.

"Jason," you blurt out before you can stop yourself, "I have to tell you something." And you tell him the truth of where you disappeared to that night, watching his expression fall with each word.

When you finish, he laughs incredulously. "You skipped out on our date to go comfort The Freak?" he spits, and you see the old Jason, the one he insisted no longer existed, ooze through his nice-guy persona. "Seriously? After everything he did to you."

"It's not like anything happened!" you protest. "Besides, you were a total douchebag in high school, and I forgave you."

Jason pauses. "And what if something had happened?" he questions, voice thick with venom and insecurity. "What if he had tried to kiss you or something? Would you have let him?"

You stumble on your response, and that's enough of an answer for him. "Nice. Real nice," he sneers. "Do you even love me?"

"I wish I did," you whisper, tears in your eyes. "Jason, I'm so sorry."

He sighs, slamming a hand on the steering wheel. "Forget it. I knew I shouldn't have gotten involved. All of you weirdos in that satanic cult Munson ran were bad news." He slams on the breaks as he pulls into your driveway. "Look at that. There's Freak Charming now." Sure enough, Eddie is sitting on your stoop, smoking a cigarette in the crisp summer evening air.

"I swear, I didn't--" but Jason just waves you off.

"We're done. Do whatever--or whoever--you want, Y/N," he says tersely, and you hop out of his car wordlessly, watching as he speeds away.

You turn your attention to Eddie, who is making his way towards you.

"What are you doing here?"

Eddie:

Well, isn't that a loaded question.

Eddie runs his fingers through his curly hair. "I, um, came here to listen to you," he stammers, avoiding your gaze.

"Listen to me? What do you want me to say?" The thought is almost absurd; him showing up to your house, expecting you to carry a conversation.

"Anything," he takes a drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "We never got to talk after the party. I didn't really apologize, and I didn't get to hear you out."

You laugh harshly. "I think I got my point across when I called you a cheating piece of shit and our relationship a waste of my time. Why, did I miss something?"

"No, I think that about covers it," Eddie says with a frown.

"Why did you do it?" you blurt out. "Was I not enough? Or too much? What did I do wrong?" Your voice wavers, a sob catching in your throat.

"Oh my God, no," Eddie replies, slack-jawed. "No, it was nothing like that. It was my fault, not yours." He sighs, looking upwards to will his own tears away. "I was drunk and stupid and scared."

"Scared?"

"Yeah," he says, "scared that you'd realize that I wasn't enough; that you'd want someone who's getting a college degree like you are, who isn't back in Hawkins working at a power plant and playing in a band with a bunch of high schoolers."

You kick the ground lightly, dust pluming around your sneakered foot. "I was gonna ask you to get an apartment in Evanston with me," you admit. "I would be at Northwestern and you could easily find work there. Plus, it's only about half an hour from Chicago." Your heart pangs at the thought of what might have been.

"Y-you were?" Eddie's eyes widen in shock. "Fuck, man!" He stubs out his cigarette angrily. "Can't believe I went and fucked it all up like that." Before he realizes what he's doing, he slams a fist into a nearby tree, wincing as the pain shoots up his arm.

"Of course I was!" you shout. "I thought you were the love of my life, Eddie. I thought we'd move in together, get married someday, have our own family." You let the tears fall, unable to hold yourself together. "And then you decided that getting blown by some random cheerleader was more important than all of that."

He's silent for awhile, and it's not until you hear him sniffling that he realizes he's crying.

"You can leave now," you tell him quietly. "There's nothing left to say."

He nods. "I'm so, so sorry," he sobs. "I hurt you. You didn't deserve that; you didn't deserve to suffer because I was insecure. I'd...I'd do anything to get you back."

"I don't think that's a good idea," you answer him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I know you're with Carver now--"

"We broke up," you see his eyebrows shoot up, and you elaborate, "just now. He didn't like that I was helping you tonight."

"Oh," Eddie says simply, trying to bite back a smile at the news that you're single. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends what it is."

"Why did you help me? You could've just told the guys to deal with it themselves, you know." He tries to resist the urge to light up another cigarette and fails, feeling the nicotine calm his nerves.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Because as much as I hate you--and I do hate you, very much--I wasn't about to let you faint over some stage fright."

Eddie chews on his lower lip. "Wasn't stage fright."

"What?"

"It wasn't stage fright," he repeats. "I had a panic attack because I saw you with Carver--not that it was your fault," he hastily adds, "it just fuckin' killed me to know that you were over me. That we were over. Because I-I never stopped loving you."

Reader:

You let the confession sink in: Eddie never stopped loving you. Or so he says, but the image of him with Ashley never fades.

"Did you still love me at the party?" you sneer. "Did you still love me with her mouth around your dick?"

"Of course I did!" he retorts, "I just...look, there's no excuse for what I did. I got it in my head that you'd leave me and I...I acted vindictively. But you've got to believe me--I've regretted it every day since."

You sit on the steps, feeling like you're about to fall over from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And you know what the worst part is?" you hiss. "Earlier, when you said you wanted me back, I actually considered it. I hate myself for it, but I considered it."

"Do you...still love me?" he asks quietly.

"I do," you confess. "I don't want to, but I do. I love you and despise you at the same time, if that makes any sense."

"What...what can I do to earn your trust back, Y/N?" he murmurs. "I'll do it; whatever you ask, I'll do it. I don't want to mess this up again. I don't want to risk losing your love for good." He looks up at you, tears shining in his big brown eyes. "Please, baby."

"Eddie, I don't know--" you start, but he interrupts you.

"Can I just do one thing?" No sooner do you nod your head do his lips come crashing against yours, his hands on either side of your face. You arch into him, pressing up on your toes.

"Was that okay?" he whispers against you, brushing away your tears with his thumb. "God, baby, it eats me up inside to know that I'm the reason you're crying. I never wanted to be that."

"I know," you tell him, falling into his warm embrace. "Want you to make me feel happy again. Like you used to."

He looks taken aback at your proposition. "Y'sure? We can just do this," he reassures you as he pulls you in for another deep kiss.

"'M sure." You gasp as he lifts you, placing one hand under each of your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist as he kisses down your arms, sending a tingling sensation through your body. "Show me how much you love me."

Eddie swings open your front door, pushing you up against the living room wall so he can put his hands all over you. "Are your parents--"

"They're out," you tell him. "We have the place to ourselves."

"Fuck," he growls. "Bedroom?"

"Mhm."

Eddie stumbles into your room, holding onto you as though he's afraid that you'll disappear if he lets you go. He gently lays you on the bed, climbing on top of you, parting your lips with his tongue.

"You're so beautiful," he muses. "You are the most perfect woman I've ever seen. These perfect eyes...perfect nose...perfect mouth...perfect ears..." He punctuates each statement with a kiss, naming every body part he can think of.

"My turn," you say, sitting up slightly. He furrows his brows, puzzled, until you start peeling off his shirt and kissing down his torso. He shivers as you reach for his belt buckle, clasping his hand over yours.

"We don't have to rush this," he stammers. "I don't want you to regret anything."

"Do you not want to?" you ask. It's not an accusation, just concern.

"I do. I definitely do," Eddie clarifies. "I just want to do this right, y'know? Don't want this to be a one-time thing."

"Eddie?"

"Mm?"

"Stop talking."

He lets out a small chuckle. "Will do, my love." Pressing another gentle kiss to your forehead, he lifts your shirt above your head and rubs his thumbs over the lace of your bra. Your nipples pebble under his touch.

"Eddie." His name drips with need from your lips. "Keep touching me." He unclasps your bra, inhaling sharply as it falls to the bed, revealing your pert breasts.

"S'perfect," he coos, taking one into his mouth. He presses his groin against your thigh, rutting against you softly. A moan slips from you as feel him growing harder.

"Wan' touch you," you whimper, nudging again at his belt. "Please."

"Okay, baby," he indulges, groaning as you take him out of his boxers, using his precum to help your hand glide along his length. "I missed your touch." He trains his focus on your own jean shorts, fighting his feral urge to rip them off of you, instead opting to leave kisses across your hips and thighs as he pulls them down gently. Pressing his forefinger against your throbbing clit, he smiles when he feels you soaking through your panties.

"Did you miss that, too?" you tease, but he's completely serious in his reply:

"I missed everything about you."

Your gaze meets his, and you immediately take note of his misty eyes. You melt at his words, at how genuine he is; the raw vulnerability making him even more beautiful. He leans in for another kiss, and his tears fall against your cheeks.

"I love you I love you I love you," he whispers into your ear, tugging down your panties and sliding one thick finger inside you, pumping it against your pulpy walls. "I'll never lose you again, never never never..."

"I know," you tell him, and you mean it. You cry out with pleasure as he inserts another digit, bucking your hips into him. "I love you, too."

"Are you...can I...?" he glances down at his erect length, slick with his own precum.

"Please," you beg. He slowly enters you, filling you up perfectly. His movements still for a moment as the two of you feel the power of your connection. He gives small thrusts, holding you by the small of your back as he pulls himself out and pushes back in rhythmically. You can't remember the last time anyone's held you this close.

He grows harder inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over. His choked panting tells you that he's close, but so are you.

"Can we finish together?" you manage, and he nods. "I'm still on the pill...you can cum inside me, baby."

"Now?"

"Mhm," you cry out as he pumps faster. "Eddie--fuck--right there, I'm cumming..." You clench around him as your orgasm overtakes you, and you feel his thick, hot ropes fill you. He stays there for a beat, kissing you with his swollen lips before taking himself out and flopping next to you on your bed.

"Y/N?" he asks meekly. "Look at me, love."

You shift to your side so your eyes are trained on his.

"You're my everything. Always have been, always will be." He caresses your cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Will you take me back? I'll never..."

"I know," you kiss his nose as he grabs your waist and pulls you against his chest. "I love you, Eddie."

"I love you more," he play argues with a grin.

"Impossible."

"Nope," he tickles you gently until you swat at him. "And I'll spend the rest of my life proving it."

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #requests

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headfullofpresley · 1 year

Text

Take Me Home

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 9,2K

Summary: After finding out the masked hero you've been crushing on is your best friend, you realise it was never Spiderman that you've been in love with.

Warning(s): spiderman!Elvis, modern!Elvis, lil bit of angst, two idiots in love, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, fluff, both reader and El are in college, Spidey kiss!, smut; sex pollen (kind of dub!con), vaginal penetration, unprotected sex. probably missed a few warnings, so lmk!

A/N: based on mostly tobey's and andrew's spiderman, but it's not necessary to be familiar with the movies to read this or whatsoever. anyways, tits out for spidey! sksksk bye. enjoy my luvs 🕷

masterlist

“No one can win every battle. But, no man should fall without a struggle.”

“Let me walk you home. It’s not safe out there this time of night,”

You knew your friends were right. New York wasn’t safe, but you were stubborn and eager to get home after a long day of classes and a shift at the coffee shop you worked at.

You were too much of a social butterfly to turn down your group of friends when they suggested go out for drinks – hence the reason why you still weren’t home after midnight.

“Joe, I’ll be fine. It’s only a short walk and I’ll call you as soon as I get home,” you told one of your closest friends, giving him your most convincing smile before you hugged him.

Joe knew how independent you were and that you were able to stand up for yourself if needed, so he nodded and let you go after you said goodbye to everyone.

“Tell Elvis to call me!” your friend yelled after you, to which you responded with a quick wave and nod. He probably needed your roommate slash best friend for the project they were working on for one of their classes, which Elvis had only participated in once.

You always had a big mouth, not afraid to use it in times of injustice and in the presence of assholes, but when walking the streets of Brooklyn after the sun went down, you had a pep in your step.

Your quickened footsteps unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by a pair of guys who were jogging after you, whistling and calling out to get your attention. Wounding your hand firmly around the strap of your purse, you kept your head down and kept walking, hoping you’d lose them when you rounded the corner.

You were close to your apartment but you were too fearful to go into the building, not wanting the duo to know where you lived. Before you could continue walking, one of the guys appeared in front of you with a wide grin on his face.

He reeked of liquor.

“Hey beautiful, what’s the hurry?” he taunted as he took a step closer to you, making you scrunch up your nose at the smell. You tried to take a step back, but walked right into the chest of the other guy who grabbed onto your shoulders to keep you in place.

Fear settled in your chest, causing you to freeze on the spot as the guy in front of you twirled a lock of your hair around his finger. He was getting closer and you squeezed your eyes shut as he grabbed onto your hips, his breath hot on your face as his lips were only inches away from yours.

You braced yourself for the disgusting feeling of having a kiss forced on your lips, but instead the guy in front of you was ripped away, making the one that stood behind you gasp out loud.

Opening your eyes, you couldn’t help but gasp as well as one of your assaulters was planted against the wall trapped by white webs.

Spider webs.

You weren’t a complete fool – you were very aware who those webs belonged to and what this meant. Everyone knew who Spiderman was, just not who was behind the mask and whole get up.

You always loved reading about the city’s own personal hero in the papers, but there were enough people who weren’t such big fans. Who ever was hidden underneath the spandex bodysuit seemed rather young and sometimes even a bit unexperienced – often times, New York’s superhero found himself at the wrong place at the wrong time, which made it easy for people to judge and put the blame on him.

“Now that’s no way to treat a lady,” the aforementioned masked man chirped happily as he stepped forward, tilting his head to you and the guy behind you. You were quick to step aside, allowing him to trap the other guy as well as he shot his web out to him, pretty much mummifying him aside from his eyes and nose.

“You can’t do this, crawler asshole!” the guy at the wall yelled, trying to free his way out of the webs as he rubbed his shoulders against it but it didn’t seem to do anything for him. The other guy tried to jump away, but fell to the ground with a loud groan instead.

“I just did,” Spiderman shrugged, letting out a laugh as he walked over to you to grab your purse from the pavement and hand it to you. He grabbed your hand and waved at the guys before he tugged you along.

Flabbergasted, you followed.

You’d be lying if you’d say you hadn’t fantasized about this once or twice. Despite having no idea what he really looked like, you had a bit of a crush on the local hero. He was brave enough to go into burning buildings, kind enough to help cats out of trees and now that you had the chance to look at him from up close, the suit did great things for his ass.

“Are you okay?” he asked as you stopped running when you were far away enough, letting go of your hand. He turned to look at you, having to remind himself that you had no idea who he really was.

And that you could never find out.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.. Thank you,”

There was no way for you to see through the fabric of his suit, but when you stared at him with wide eyes, he couldn’t help but get a little nervous. In reality, you were admiring the details on his mask.

“You shouldn’t be out on the streets alone at this time. It’s dangerous, you know?” he spoke up, snapping you out of your staring spell as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

You nodded, hoping he didn’t see the flush on your face. Clearing your throat a little, you looked back at the cat-like eyes that were sewn on his mask.

“How did you know where I was?”

It didn’t matter if he’d be in the wrong place at the wrong time on some occassions, he was still there. And he was still helping people, saving lives even.

Maybe some situations weren’t as spectacular as others–you were sure he didn’t get an adrenaline kick out of saving helpless girls that were too stubborn to let themselves be walked home by a friend–but he always seemed to know whenever something was going on.

“Eh..” he scratched the back of his head, letting out a soft laugh. He tried to raise his voice a little as he spoke, hoping he didn’t sound the same as he did when he was out of his suit. “I have the ability to sense.. danger, I guess,”

He shrugged his shoulders once before he gave you a quick wave, turning around to walk away from you.

You weren’t giving up so easily, running after him. He knew you’d follow – and he didn’t need to use his senses for that.

“Like a sixth sense kind of thing?”

“Something like that,” he nodded, crossing the street in the direction of your apartment building when you pointed him the way. He tried to let you lead, making you think he had no idea where you lived.

“Did that come with the suit?” you blurted out, pushing him on questions he didn’t want to give an answer to. Things he couldn’t give an answer to – he had only been crowned with the title Spiderman for a few months and he was still trying to figure this whole thing out himself.

The suit was a design he made himself. He couldn’t exactly fly through the air as himself during the day, because none of the powers he possessed came with the suit. The webs came from his own wrists.

“No.. it didn’t,” he stopped walking as you did, looking at the door that led into the building’s lobby. “Is this where you live?”

You nodded, smiling brightly at him as he turned his head to look at you. You couldn’t even make eye contact with the guy, you didn’t even know who he was but you had already jumped forward to wrap your arms around him.

He was taken back by your actions for a second, but as you squeezed him in your embrace, he chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you again, Spiderman,” you sighed happily as you let him go, walking toward the door. He coughed a little, thanking God that you weren’t able to see how red his face was.

“Any time! Just… try to stay out of trouble,” he joked, saluting you with a soft laugh before he ran across the street and flung a web against the fire escape of one of the apartment buildings, flying up into the dark sky and disappearing out of your sight.

You had been talking about your meeting with Spiderman for weeks now. And while Elvis found it flattering at first, it was driving him absolutely nuts at this point.

If only you would replace the name Spiderman with his own…

“Will you ever stop talking about this dude? You don’t even know what he looks like,” your raven haired best friend mumbled from the couch he was laying on, zapping through the channels on the TV.

You stopped dancing around the room, falling onto your knees next to the couch to look at him with an angry glare. “When you love someone, it doesn’t matter what they look like, Elvis,”

He turned his attention to you instead of the TV and raised his eyebrows, trying not to blush at your words.

Love?

You loved him?

Well, you loved Spiderman, but seeing he was your masked crush, it got his heart jumping for joy.

“He helped you from a bunch of drunkards once and you love him? You’re such a child,” he laughed, hoping he didn’t sound too obvious as he flicked his finger against your forehead.

He earned a slap from you immediately before you rubbed your forehead and got up, placing your hands on your hips.

“I get it,” you grinned at him, sticking your hip out. “You’re just jealous that he has girls all over the city swooning over him and you can’t keep a girlfriend for longer than two weeks,”

Your words were true – he never lasted longer in a relationship than a few weeks. But it wasn’t because he wasn’t able to be a good boyfriend, he could be a perfect one, it was just that he didn’t have time. He was falling extremely behind on his school work, he definitely didn’t have time to go on dates and remember anniversaries.

It was one of the reasons why he hadn’t confessed his feelings to you and he probably never would. Not only would he barely have time for you, he also did not want to put you in any danger. He wasn’t only just helping people from petty store robberies during the day, but he was helping the police with more serious stuff as well.

Just because he was living two lives didn’t mean you had to. He didn’t want to burden you with carrying his secret around.

“He’s not as cool as people think, you know?” Elvis huffed as he folded his arms against his chest, looking back at the TV to avoid eye contact. Once again, you blocked his view as you sat down on the edge of the coffee table, facing him.

“Do you think it’s true what people are saying about him? The.. the bad things?”

You didn’t believe the papers, especially not the Daily Bugle, when they’d publish anything negative about Spiderman.

Elvis threw the remote to the other side of the couch and sat up, facing you as he leaned forward with his arms on his knees. “No, I don’t. He might be a fool in a mask, but he’s not a bad guy,”

“But you don’t think he’s cool either,” you teased with a smile on your face, making him roll his eyes as he chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re the one who’s in love with him,”

“Not in love!”

“But you just said-“

“I have a.. crush.. maybe, argh, I don’t know!” you laughed as you slapped his arm, hiding your face in your hands. “You probably think I’m an idiot.. but.. I can’t forget about that night. He doesn’t even know me, but he.. he saved me,”

Elvis wanted to tell you that that was his job, that Spiderman was supposed to save and help people but he didn’t want to jinx himself or whatsoever.

If he’d talk badly about himself, about himself as Spiderman, the possibility to drive you away could be big. He knew that once you had your mind set on something or someone, there was no way to talk you out of it.

He sighed softly as he slipped his hands in yours, squeezing them softly as he smiled at you. “I was messing with you, Y/N. I don’t think you’re an idiot,” he whispered, looking down at your hands as he entertwined your fingers together. “Just promise me you won’t do anything reckless to get his attention, okay? If you finish late shifts, call me and we’ll walk home together,”

You met his eyes when he looked back up at you, nodding your head. You gave him your promise, but he should’ve known you weren’t going to stick by your word this time.

Elvis wasn’t just fighting crime anymore, he had officially become your own personal saviour as well. You’d get yourself in trouble and dangerous situations any chance you got and he knew you were doing it on purpose.

Ever since he was bitten by a genetically engineered “super spider” during a project he was working on in the genetics lab of Columbia, he obviously gained the inhuman strength and skills that made it possible for him to do what he did. But he also gained a certain… third eye.

A sixth sense, of sorts.

A spider sense – he could sense danger coming before it even happened and when it came to you, it seemed to grow stronger.

He didn’t know if it was because he had known you for years already or because his feelings for you were so strong, but he couldn’t ignore it.

Couldn’t ignore the tingle he felt every time you needed his help.

The time it happened again, he was laying in a hammock created out of his own webs, swaying from side to side on top of the Empire State building. It had been a quiet night so far which was rare for New York and while he could be using this free time to help Joe on their still on-going project, he’d much rather be lazy with a great view of the city.

He didn’t have much time to relax, though. As soon as he sensed that something was up with you again, rain started trickling onto his skintight suit and he quickly made his way down.

Following his instinct, it didn’t take him long to find you.

The soft drizzle had turned into a harsh downpour as you were making your way home from the coffee shop you just ended a late shift at. Once more, you heard multiple footsteps following you but this time, you didn’t freak out.

This is what you wanted – even though you had no idea if Spiderman was even close, you knew he’d show up.

He always did.

Four men were behind you, calling out to you but instead of running and losing them, you wandered into an alley with a dead end.

“You seem willing,” one of the men grinned, nudging the one next to him.

“Means she’ll be easy,” the other one laughed and you laughed along with them, kicking the man in front of you in the balls before you swung your purse at the other. You were about to have a go at the third and fourth one as well, but as they pushed you against the wall and ripped your coat off, all four of them were thrown across the alley.

In the darkness and due to the heavy rain, you could only make out the silhouette of your hero that was hanging sideways on the wall by just his feet, but you knew exactly who it was.

Your heart skipped in excitement as you watched him fight off the trouble makers, knocking them unconscious in just a matter of seconds.

Elvis stood and looked at you, completely forgetting about the fact his mask was up to his forehead. You couldn’t make out his face but as you came closer, he quickly jumped in the shadows and you completely lost him.

Before you had time to be disappointed or the chance to call out his name, he appeared behind you – face covered by his mask now, hanging upside down from a string of web.

“You have a knack for gettin’ in trouble,” he spoke up, making you turn around with a laugh.

He forced himself to keep looking at your face, rather than at your soaked t-shirt which left absolutely nothing to the imagination since you weren’t wearing a bra.

“You have a knack for saving my life,” you countered back, grinning at him proudly. “I think I have a superhero stalker,”

“I was in the neighborhood,”

You smiled softly, sighing dreamily as you looked at his mask’s eyes with hearts basically popping out of yours. “You are… amazing,”

“Some people don’t think so,” he sighed, his heart clenching in his chest.

“But I do,”

“It’s nice.. to have a fan,” he whispered, but despite his face being covered and the sound of rain falling down on you two, you could hear him perfectly clear. You laughed softly at his words, biting your lip.

“Let me thank you properly this time,”

He gasped softly as you reached your hands out to his neck, your fingertips slipping underneath the hem of his mask. “W-Wait..”

You ignored him and he didn’t stop you when you pulled the fabric down the lower half of his face, keeping his nose and eyes covered. He inhaled a breath of air as you leaned in and although it wouldn’t matter, his eyes fluttered shut nonetheless.

With your hands placed on his cheeks, you tilted your head a little and deepened the kiss as soon as you felt his tongue against yours. The position wasn’t the most comfortable for him and it felt rather weird to kiss someone like this, but you didn’t care. Finally, you got what you wanted.

Still, you wanted more but ofcourse, you weren’t foolish enough to think you were going to get it. The kiss only made your little crush on the hero grow tenfold, but it could never work.

Despite you not caring much about someone’s appearance, you had no idea what he looked like. You had no idea what his personality was like, but you knew in your heart he wasn’t a bad person.

Still, being in a relationship with a hero… it sounded like a dream, and you figured that was all it was and ever would be.

Pulling back from the kiss, you smiled brightly and pulled his mask back up. He shivered once at the feeling of your fingertips caressing the side of his face – reaching his hand that he wasn’t hanging from out to your face, he gently tapped the tip of your nose before he pulled himself up and as always, disappeared into the night.

At this rate, you were never going to get in Spiderman’s pants. Or rather, suit.

But maybe that was for the best. Even though you liked to believe that you could get everything you wanted in life, it was time for you to get back to reality.

While you were still very much interested in Spiderman, you figured it’d be best to stop talking about him every five minutes to the people around you. You were starting to look like a lovesick teenager, a very foolish one.

Elvis didn’t know if he should be happy about this or not. Part of him knew it was for the best for you to stop crushing on Spiderman, but the other part of him wanted you to keep gushing about his masked version.

He decided not to bring up the topic, trying to think with the rational part of his brain.

Elvis had no idea that you were getting suspicious of him. He should’ve known he couldn’t keep something big like this a secret forever, especially not to someone who he was living with.

Due to you having more free time than Elvis, because for some reason he was gone most hours of the day, you took the task of keeping the apartment clean upon you. You had been friends with him for so long that neither of you cared about you going into his room to tidy up the place or about you doing his laundry, including his underwear.

He’d usually wear his suit under his clothing or keep it stashed in his bag that he took to class–whenever he did go to class–but he had completely forgotten about laundry day.

Laundry day.

To say you you were surprised or shocked when you saw the red and blue suit and mask in his laundry basket, would be an understatement. You were close to losing your damn mind, the realisation that you kissed your best friend settling in.

The realisation that you were in love with your best friend settling in.

Elvis was Spiderman.

After asking yourself a million questions and talking to yourself while pacing through the entire apartment, you washed the suit before neatly hanging it in his closet.

You knew the truth and Elvis knew that you knew, but neither of you ever spoke about it.

Movie nights were rare for you and Elvis ever since he became pretty much the most important person in the city. For once, he decided to stay home with you rather than swinging from building to building because despite having stamina for days, he too got tired every once in a while.

And he missed his best friend.

Other than feeling a little awkward around each other after the laundry incident, things went back to normal pretty fast. You both figured that if you wouldn’t speak of it, it never happened.

But neither of you could get it out of your head.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that your best friend and roommate was Spiderman and that you had been looking at him differently ever since.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you knew his biggest secret and what kind of risks that could come with it, but also about how you kissed him and you now knew it was him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Elvis questioned after you had turned your head for the 6th time, looking at him with concetration written over your features.

You were sat in the arm chair to his right as he was laying on his side on the couch, elbow propped up to hold his head in his hand. He couldn’t focus on the movie at all because you were anything but slick with your actions, shamelessly staring at him whenever his eyes were on the TV across from you.

“I want to test something,” you spoke determinedly as if you had finally made a decision on whatever you had been cooking up in that head of yours.

“T-Test... something?”

You nodded once, sitting up straight in yours seat before you got on the floor, waddling closer to him on your knees. “Just.. just put your head back,”

There really was no need for you to kiss your best friend to test if he really was Spiderman, because you were already certain about it, but he was already doing what you told him to do and backing out now would make you regret it later. Besides, Elvis had really pretty lips that you had always wanted to kiss but never had the chance to.

At least, not without a mask.

“Close your eyes,” you whispered as he laid his head against the arm rest of the couch, looking up at you as you hovered above him from where you were still on your knees behind him.

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes before he had rolled them playfully at you.

He had no idea what you were up to, until he felt your gentle hands finding their place on his cheeks and your lips against his.

Just like that one rainy night, the two of you were sharing another upside down kiss but this time he reached his hand up to place it on the back of your head, pushing you down further against him to deepen the kiss.

You ignored the funny feeling of your nose rubbing against his chin and moved one hand down to his jaw, caressing his skin with your nails.

Perhaps you were imagining it, but you could’ve sworn you were brought right back to that night in the alley. A tingle of electricity traveled down your spine, nearly making you shiver and although you did not want to pull back, you did at the realisation of what you were doing and with who.

Your eyes met as he looked up at you, his fingers slowly letting go of your hair as he moved his hand back down. “Did you find the answer you were looking for?”

The answer was so obvious. This whole thing was so obvious, but both you and Elvis were idiots.

Two idiots who were scared and in love.

“I think I did,” you whispered, removing your hands from his face as you sat back on your knees. He slowly turned around to lay on his stomach, making proper eye contact with you this time.

The tension in the room was so thick it was nearly palpable and it thickened even more as he reached out his hand to your face, letting his fingertips follow your jawline. You could see he wanted to open his mouth and speak, but a siren wailing somewhere outside got his ears perking up.

“I… I have to go,”

You nodded your head, watching him get up and disappear into his room after he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead.

When you climbed out of the window in the living room and stepped onto the fire escape, you watched your best friend fling himself down the street – his cheerful hollering echoeing through the air.

Elvis wasn’t just fighting small crimes or returning lost bikes anymore. The Daily Bugle’s publisher Jameson wasn’t his only ‘enemy’ anymore he realised as he was face to face with a creature that was tearing his city down that same night you and him shared another kiss.

He didn’t even have time to daydream about you as he’d fly through the air, having to go in full fight mode. He was just praying you wouldn’t turn on the TV.

He had no idea where his opponent came from or what he even was, but he had some nasty tricks up his sleeve that Elvis wasn’t prepared for. This definitely was something else than what he usually did, but thanks to his senses, he was able to dodge most objects that were thrown at him.

Though as a pink beaming grenade was tossed his way, he caught it in a reflex. Raising an eyebrow at his beaten down enemy, he tilted his head as he threw the grenade that was beeping up in the air before catching it again.

“What’s this, princess? Fairy dust?”

The mutated guy on the ground laugh – you know, the typical evil laugh. Elvis wasn’t phased by it.

“Something like that,”

Elvis watched the guy saluting him before disappearing into thin air.

Civilians and the police were surrounding him, cheering him on as they chanted his name. One of the officers nodded at him thankfully, but the grenade started ticking more frantically and instead of destroying it before it could explode, Elvis shot out a web toward the New York Times tower and got himself and the grenade away from the crowd.

As he got to the top of the building, the grenade exploded like clock work. Clouds of pink fog surrounded him, seeping through the material of his suit and making him fall into a coughing fit. With no one around to see him, he ripped his mask off his face and stumbled backwards a little, dropping the now empty grenade to his feet as he waved his arms around to open the thick fog.

Shit.

He knew exactly what this was. As a science major, and one that was not just a regular human anymore, he had done plenty of research on things that weren’t even supposed to exist.

This was one of those things he considered to be a weapon against him.

Freaking sex pollen.

It came in a lot of different shapes and forms and while he had always thought the most common form was a plant, he was greatly mistaken. The whole thing and its side effects could be somewhat compared to viagra, but this was so much more intense.

It came with a fever, hallucinations, extreme pain and death.

So, way more intense than a tiny blue pill.

He cursed as he could already feel his blood rushing through his veins, making its way to his lower region as his skin heated up underneath his suit. He pulled down his mask, jumping down the building – he let himself fall down for a few seconds, hoping the pressure of the fall would somehow help him get rid of the boner that was starting to come on.

It didn’t.

He shot out a web against the next building, swinging his way home.

He was close to your shared apartment until the hallucinations started. Ones that all involved you.

He could hear your voice in his head, moaning and whining as he pictured you arching your back for him underneath him while tangled up in his sheets. At one point, he could’ve sworn he saw you standing in the middle of the street butt naked when he looked down, calling out his name.

It made him completely forget to shoot out another web as he was flying through the air and he was too late to catch himself, landing loudly on top of a parked car which he immediately rolled off of, falling face, and hips, first onto the pavement.

He groaned in pain, rolling on his back as he put his legs up, covering the vicious bulge in his suit with his hands.

“Yo, Spidey! Are you okay, man?” A pedestrian called out to him, having stopped walking.

Elvis shot up from the ground, trying not to cry out at the quick movements. He put his hands on top of the car he just landed on, his body luckily hidden by the vehicle as the guy who called out to him was on the other side of the street.

“Y-Yeah, man! I’m good!” he nodded, putting his thumb up. The guy hesitated for a second but then gave him a smile and continued on his way. Elvis banged his fist against the vehicle, accidentally triggering the alarm this time.

Before the civilian could turn around to see what was happening once more, Elvis had already disappeared.

You were pacing in the living room, nervously listening to the reporter talking on the TV that was filling the people in on what happened at Times Square tonight. Now that you actually knew who was hidden behind the red mask, you were scared for your best friend’s life.

You literally saw him swinging away with a grenade in his hand – what if it exploded in his face? What if he was dead?

No no no, he couldn’t be dead. Elvis couldn’t be dead.

There was a loud bang coming from his room, making you let out a little shriek. You immediately ran to the door, but as you tried to open it, Elvis’ desk that he pushed in front of the door blocked it.

“Elvis!” you yelled, banging your fists on the door like a maniac. “Let me in! Now!”

He groaned as he pulled his mask off his face to fling it across the room. Reaching his arms behind his back, he struggled as he was trying to pull the fabric off his sweaty skin.

“G-Go away, Y/N!” he grunted as he stumbled against the wall, his vision blocked by his clothing as it got stuck in the process of being removed.

He was heating up, his cock throbbing in the confinements of his tight suit – and it hurt. It hurt so much that tears were burning in his eyes.

“I swear I will break down this door,” you threatened in a panic as you were shaking the doorknob now, pushing your shoulder against the door.

He realised you were stronger than you looked, making the desk rumble a little bit with your force.

He managed to get the top half of his suit off, throwing it to the floor. When you managed to push the desk back far enough to create an entrance wide enough for you to squirm through, you stepped into his very messy but very empty room.

You looked around, rubbing your arm you had used to force the door open with. You could sense he was in the room and when you decided to look up, you met the panicked blues of your best friend as he was stuck against the wall by his hands and feet.

He jumped down, landing easily on his feet but you didn’t miss the way he winced at the movement. As your eyes traveled down his chest and down his hips, you could see the outline of his cock in the skintight fabric.

“You… are you… Elvis, you have a…”

“I know!” he groaned as he walked by you, letting himself fall on his bed. He turned his back to you and if you didn’t see the sweat on his back and the way he was shivering, you would’ve laughed at him.

Maybe he got off on being the hero. Maybe danger got him horny, but then again, he shouldn’t be having this kind of reaction.

Slowly making your way over to him, you placed your hand on his shoulder to turn him around and gasped softly as you felt his skin was unusually hot.

He could feel his blood boiling, a feeling that was very foreign to him and it scared him to death. And if he wouldn’t do something about this boner, he would die.

Like, really die – unless he fucked someone.

But he couldn’t ask that of you. You kissed him twice by now, but that didn’t mean you had the same feelings he did. It didn’t mean that you wanted to sleep with him.

“Can you go away, please?” he was dying to get out of the pants part of his suit, which were becoming tighter by the second.

“No,” you said, placing both hands on his arm now to turn him around. As you succeeded and he laid on his back, he looked at you with a trembling lower lip and tears in his eyes. The sight broke your heart. “What happened out there, Elvis? You’re fighting this.. monster and the next second you’re flying away with a grenade in your hand. I thought you were dead!”

“And I will be soon!” he exclaimed in frustration as he shot up, whining as he did so. He crawled away from you, leaning his back against the wall his bed was perched up against. He stretched his legs, putting his hands on his crotch.

“W-what? What are you talking about? Please, will you just explain what the fuck is going on?!” you yelled back at him, equally as frustrated.

“I’m Spiderman,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he looked away from you.

“Well, duh. I meant with that freaky bomb, you idiot,”

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head still turned away from you as he leaned it against the wall.

“It wasn’t.. w-wasn’t just a normal bomb,” he grunted softly, trying to steady his breathing but he couldn’t stop his chest from heaving up and down rapidly. “It’s this… this thing. S-sex pollen.. it causes..” he slowly turned his head back to you, removing his hands as he pointed at himself. “this,”

“O-okay… that looks.. uncomfortable. But why would you die? Can’t you just jerk it off in the shower?”

“I wish,” he scoffed, shaking his head. He winced as you sat on the other side of his bed, the dipping of the mattress alerting his senses. “I have.. h-have to, God I can’t believe I’m about to say this… I have to fuck someone,”

You froze in your spot as silence lingered between the two of you aside from the sounds of his erratic breathing.

Here he was, your best friend that you definitely did not see as just a friend anymore. And Spiderman, the hero that you had been crushing on for months like a lovesick school girl.

You cared about Elvis. Loved him. You couldn’t just sit back and watch him die, knowing that you could quite literally save his life.

“I’ll do it,” you blurted out.

He widened his eyes as he looked at you, his heartbeat quickening even more.

“N-No, Y/N. I can’t ask that of you,” he swallowed as he shook his head, slowly getting up from the bed. He could barely stand on his feet, the very uncomfortable erection he was sporting making it hard for him to walk and his body felt heavy as if he was being pulled down by a ton of bricks. “I might hurt you,”

You watched him stumble over to his desk, leaning over it with his ass sticking out into your direction.

That suit really did do wonders for his figure.

Shaking that thought away, you got up from the bed and walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “El, I can’t let you die,” you whispered, taking a step closer to try and look at him. “You saved me so many times. Let me be the hero this time,”

He laughed softly at your words, head hanging low as he squeezed his eyes shut. If only he had been giving other girls around him some more attention – then he’d have someone else to call and solve this problem right now.

But then again, he wouldn’t want anyone else in his bed. Sure, he dated around a little and had sex before, but he had been in love with you ever since he laid eyes on you.

His friends called him an idiot, telling him that you didn’t feel the same and he was aware of that. He was aware of the guys you’d bring over when you thought he was sleeping, he was the one who’d have to sit on the couch with your dates while you were still getting ready.

Maybe he was an idiot for hoping, wishing and waiting around, but he didn’t care. He loved you.

And because he loved you, he was about to open his mouth and reject your offer once more – until he suddenly felt your lips pressed against his shoulder.

The feeling got the hairs on the back of his neck standing up right, making him open his eyes and stand up straight. He stumbled backwards, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Elvis, please! I hate seeing you in pain,” your voice was soft and gentle, but he could hear the hint of frustration lingering on the back of your tongue. “I’m not going to let you die. I love you and I-“

As soon as you told him you loved him, his cock twitched in his suit, goosebumps covering his arms.

Fuck it.

Striding forward, he grabbed your face and harshly crashed his lips onto yours, ready to get the relief you were offering him.

Elvis was laying on his back, the rest of his suit discarded somewhere on the floor, hands clawing at the sheets. With your naked body pressed against his side and your hand wrapped firmly around his cock, he could barely keep himself from writhing on the bed.

“P-Please,” he whimpered, turning his head to look at you, his lips desperately pressing against your cheek as you were looking at his weeping cock in your hand, admiring the view. “A-Another t-time, baby, please. I need you,”

You looked at him, your cheeks flushed slightly as you nodded. You wanted to take your time, admire and explore every inch of his body, but you realised the situation wasn’t exactly ideal for that.

“Sorry,” you whispered with a soft chuckle, allowing him to push you back on the mattress by your shoulders. You looked up at him as he hovered above you now, biting your lip as he reached a hand in between your bodies to run his digits through your folds.

As he felt how wet you were, his lips curled up in a grin.

“You’re so sick,” he hummed as he caressed your parted lips with his own, speaking his next words into your mouth. “You like seeing your best friend in pain, huh?”

You laughed softly, responding to him by sneaking your tongue in his mouth and kissing him sloppily which he happily went along with.

Even in the state he was in, he still wanted this to be enjoyable for you as well but you knew he was struggling. You could hear it in the way he was breathing hard in your mouth and feel it in the way his hips bucked forward every time you moaned.

“Elvis,” you breathed as you pulled back from the kiss, wiping a tear from his cheek with your thumb. “Please fuck me already,”

You gave him a nod, confirming once more that you were more than okay with this when he was about to ask if you were sure. He sighed deeply and removed his hand from your pussy, wrapping it around his cock instead – he groaned deeply as his fingers that were covered in your arousal slipped over his cock so easily, only adding fuel to the fire in his bones.

Tonight you learned that Spiderman didn’t wear any underwear underneath his suit and you made a mental reminder to tease him about it later, but as soon as Elvis situated himself at your entrance and pushed his hips forward, the thought was long forgotten.

Gasping, you looked up at him as you grabbed onto his shoulders, walls spasming firmly around him because of the sudden intrusion.

“Oh my fucking God,” his eyes rolled in the back of his head, his arms that he was holding himself up with trembling as he squeezed the sheets in his palms. “So tight.. Jesus.. I won’t.. w-won’t be able to last long,”

You were aware that this had little to do with equal pleasure and everything with him just needing to spill his load.

He was keeping still when he bottomed out inside of you, still thinking about you, but as soon as you wrapped your legs around him and hooked your ankles together to trap him, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He couldn’t stop the beast from coming out.

His thrusts were never gentle because at the first stroke of your velvety walls, he was an absolute goner.

You couldn’t keep quiet even if you tried. With the way he was pounding into you and making the bed creak forcefully underneath your bodies, he was unknowingly to himself hitting the right spot every single time. Running your hands through his hair, you looked up at him with your face contorted in pleasure, breasts bouncing with every thrust.

He was losing his mind. He was losing his fucking mind and control. But you didn’t stop him as he moved one hand to your neck, squeezing softly and stealing your breath away.

“Look at you,” he grinned, his hips never faltering as he looked down at you with wild eyes. “So fucking ready to be fucked. You’re a little slut, aren’t you?”

You gasped as he moved his fingers up, holding onto your jaw to keep your head from moving and you let him. Both you and him were surprised by the words leaving his mouth, but they made you clench around him harshly.

“My little slut. Spiderman’s little slut,” he growled in your mouth as he forced his tongue into your mouth, which you gladly allowed. Your nails were digging into his flesh, breaking skin and drawing blood and it only motivated him to thrust harder.

You wanted to keep kissing him, but with the way his hand around your throat was squeezing harder and his weight he put on you, it was getting hard to breathe properly. You managed to slightly turn your head and he moved his hand up to your hair, tangling his fingers in it as he kissed his way down to your neck, sucking on your soft skin to create several hickeys.

Tears stung in your eyes and you were putting pornstars to shame with the sounds that left you, feeding his ego.

While Elvis enjoyed your cries and screams, your neighbors most certainly didn’t. Banging came from the other side of his wall, but Elvis never stopped. Instead, he quickly reached for the red fabric of his mask that he noticed laying on the ground next to the bed. Without warning, he shoved it in your mouth and you widened your eyes at him, whining.

Right now, the Elvis that you had always known was nowhere to be seen. He was always your goofy best friend, sticking his nose into books and science researches or hiding behind his camera.

The boy next door type of guy.

You wondered if it was because of the sex pollen that made him act like this, but you weren’t complaining. You’d be a fool to. You had slept with plenty of other people, but this was the best fuck you had ever had in your life.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you bit down on the mask, holding onto his upper arms while he was grunting and growling above you. His fever was going down more and more, but even in the delirious state he was in, he was smart enough to pull out of you as he felt his climax nearing. You quickly opened your eyes to look at him as jerked himself off with a quick hand, warm spurts of cum landing on your stomach and in between your breasts.

It took him a few seconds to empty himself completely thanks to those evil pollen and you were sure it was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

Truly a sight for sore eyes.

A chill trickled down his spine and it made him visibly shiver, hips stuttering a little as he looked down at you with dazed eyes. He looked completely fucked out with his raven locks messy and sticking up and it made your heart skip. Never in a million years had you expected to fuck your best friend tonight–or ever for that matter.

You were happy it happened and you didn’t want this to be the last time, but you had no idea where his mind was at.

You weren’t actually aware that he was madly in love with you and you realised that what you just did was needed in order for him to make it until tomorrow. Still, an uncomfortable knot found its way in your tummy – you felt used.

Maybe this had been a mistake.

As he let himself fall next to you in his small bed, you took his mask out of your mouth and dropped it to the floor, the both of you staring up at the ceiling.

“At least your sperm is… normal,” you broke the silence, letting out an awkward laugh as you tried to swallow the lump that was forming in your throat.

He turned his head to look at you, noticing the flush that was still on your cheeks, traveling down to your neck. Although he had never seen you after sex, he knew it wasn’t because of what they just did. He knew you longer than today.

“Are you.. are you crying?” he whispered, propping himself up on his elbow to have a better look at your face. You immediately turned away, quickly wiping a stray tear that managed to roll down your cheek away.

“No,” you immediately said, sitting up as you grasped your clothes from the floor. Not caring about his cum still on your skin, you quickly got dressed and walked to his bedroom door.

He should stop you. He needed to stop you, but he didn’t. Instead, he said something that made it impossible for you to look at him as tears blurred your vision.

“T-Thank you… for helping me,”

You left the room, leaving Elvis behind with the same knot in his stomach.

Elvis lost you.

He lost you and it was all his own goddamn fault.

After that night, he should’ve just come clean about his feelings. He should’ve told you that he had been in love with you for years and that you belong with him… but he didn’t.

The world got more dangerous every day and he was afraid of the consequences of you and him being together. He was starting to get enemies, real bad people with real bad intentions, and once they’d found out about you.. that would mean he had a weak spot.

You were his weak spot.

He would never forgive himself if anything happened to you but he also couldn’t handle when you started getting more and more distant. And when he came home after class one afternoon and saw half of your wardrobe empty, he nearly trashed the entire house.

Enemies be damned, he couldn’t let you walk out of his life. Not like this.

He didn’t want you to become the biggest ‘what if’ in his life.

He immediately interrogated Joe, knowing that he was one of the people you were closest with among your mutual friends, and when Elvis found out you were planning on leaving New York, he didn’t hesitate to go after you.

He didn’t care if he had to search the whole city.

You were still in New York, stuck in traffic with a very chatty taxi driver, next to the East River.

After what happened the night you slept with Elvis, you were hurt. You were finally realising you were in love with him, but the harsh reality of him not feeling the same was something you couldn’t accept. It was safe to say you didn’t take rejection very well.

Ofcourse you weren’t planning on simply ghosting your best friend, but you needed some time away from New York and spend some time back home with your family to lick your wounds.

“Hey, it’s Spiderman!” the taxi driver exclaimed happily, pointing at the Brooklyn Bridge on your left. You frowned, leaning forward in your seat to have a better look at the huge webbed letters on the side of the bridge.

Those three words he had always been afraid to say.

I love you.

You were smiling like a fool, tapping the driver’s shoulder.

“Stop the cab,”

“Lady, I ain’t even driving,” the driver laughed as you got out of the car, manoeuvring your way through the other vehicles that were stuck in traffic.

As you stood on the side walk by the river, tears were stinging in your eyes. You could hear people chanting on your right and when you turned your head, you saw Spiderman himself swinging at you in full force.

You couldn’t do anything but reach your arms out, clinging onto him for dear life as he wrapped an arm around your waist and literally swept you off of your feet.

“Hi,” he breathed as the two of you stood on the very top of the Brooklyn Bridge, his arms firmly wrapped around your waist.

“Hi,” you laughed as you pulled his mask off, clenching it in your hand as your arms were wrapped around his neck.

“Did you get my message?”

“What message?”

He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours as you giggled. “That was you? I couldn’t make it out,” you teased, staring into his eyes instead of looking down at the ground.

“I’ll tell you what it says,” he smiled, pushing you closer against his chest. “It says I love you. Because I love you,”

A tear rolled down your cheek, but you were too afraid to let him go and wipe it away. He did it for you, not caring about slightly salty taste as he kissed it away.

“I was wrong… I’ve been.. stupid to think we can’t be together, to think we’re on different paths. But you are my path and you’re always gonna be my path,” he closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours, smiling softly.

He was out of breath, his heart racing with nerves but he came too far to back out now.

“I know there’s a million reasons why we shouldn’t be together, but I’m tired of ‘em. I’m tired of every single one of ‘em. We all gotta make a choice… and I choose you,”

His eyes were open again, looking right into yours as his lips curled up into smile. It felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders and God, it felt so damn good.

“I love you, Elvis,” you told him, laughing softly through your tears. “And not because of this suit.. not because you’re Spiderman. But because you are you and I love you, Elvis Presley,”

His cheeks were aching with how broad he was smiling and he relished in the feeling.

The two of you moved closer at the same time, lips crashing on each other’s. This time, you knew he wasn’t just kissing you because of an unfortunate case caused by any kind of pollen.

This time, you knew it was because he loved you.

“Are you still leaving?” he asked, his voice a whisper after he gently pulled back from the kiss. You sighed deeply, shaking your head with a smile on your face.

“I’m not,” you told him, pulling your face back from his as you pulled his mask over his face. He laughed as he fixed it to sit properly with one hand, his other arm wrapping firmer around your waist. “Take me home, Spidey,”

“Hold on tight, little one,” he grinned and as you were suddenly swinging through the air and away from the bridge, you were nearly screaming his ears off.

But you trusted Elvis. He’d never ever let you fall and you finally managed to open your eyes after a few minutes, mesmerized by the view of the city from so far above.

Perhaps your life would never be the same anymore, perhaps things would get harder, more dangerous.

But if it meant you’d finally have your happy ending with the man you loved, it was worth the risk.

196 notes · View notes

bwoahtastic · 7 months

Note

Alright so Logan enjoys tipping his food onto his head at dinner time because lol and Oscar in the next high chair is just judging him so hard and solemnly accepting the airplane spoon and Seb trying to play with Oscar and make him giggle but Oscar doesn't engage with him so he asks Kimi who blows one raspberry on Oscar's stomach and the lil guy is in absolute hysterics and even Logan side eyes him like what's so funny about that.

Their pups are such opposite but absolute besties, like Logan will run around like a mad man and then just collapse next to Oscar who cuddles him and shares his book. And Logan accidentally breaking something and Kimi and Seb looking a bit mad and Oscar just steps in front of him and says that he did it

SKSKSK

Logan giggling and playing with his food, making a mess! Its okay it's bath time after dinner anyways lol!

Meanwhile Oscar is just side eying Logan and judging him hard and waiting patiently for the next airplane spoon of food lol!

Logan is always giggling when playing and loves tickles but Oscar just gently redirects Seb's hand ehen he tries to tickle his tummy too cos no thank youuuu

Then Kimi just tugs the pup over to him and blows one raspberry on his chonqy tummy and instsntly Oscar is in hysterics, giggling and squeaking like madman and its adorable! Seb is surprised but Kimi just hands the wiggling pup over to him and Seb blows another raspberry and Oscar just let's out the happiest little noise!

Logan being a little confused but clapping his hands cos Oscar is happy and then crawling onto Kimi's lap for cuddles!

Pls little logan breaking smthn in his zoomies and Kimi goes over to clean it up while Seb wants to check if Logan hurts himself but Oscar comes over and says he did it, not Logibear! Poor pups just protecting each other and it reminds Kimi and seb thst these happy pups had a tough start to life🥺🥺

#asks #abo adoption

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bunnyreaper · 1 year

Note

oh my god i,,, 🥺 i know i was JUST here but i am once agin. sliding into your asks to propose more father things--

the teenage/older child brings home their first partner, how would gabo handle it, and what do you think would be able to win him over? 👀

notes: angel hi!! im ngl this took me a while bcs i was half convinced this ask only happened in my dreams sksksk, i also struggled so if it's bad im so sorry, i went for a lil fic rather than hc's???

warnings: f!reader, slight overprotective gabe.

The second Gabriel lays eyes on the young man, you know he doesn't like what he sees.

Josh, as he introduced himself, holds himself with far too much confidence for an awkward 17-year-old, yet he tries to pull it off all the same.

When he smiles as he shakes Gabriel's hand, you begin to worry.

Your own greetings are much more friendly than your husband's, as you're intrigued to see your daughter's choice of guys. Seemingly a little different from your own at that age.

Motherly instincts take over, and you pull everyone to the kitchen, so you can get Josh a drink and see if he's hungry.

"Mama, he doesn't need feeding." Your daughter sighs, seemingly embarrassed by your maternal display.

Gabriel stands quietly, watching Josh from the corner of his eye as he makes himself at home at your kitchen island. You quietly watch Gabriel, ready to mediate at any moment.

"So Josh, I hear you're on the football team?" You mention, hoping to start the process of getting to know him somehow. Your daughter has been very tight-lipped about her boyfriend, even with you.

You can practically feel Gabriel's eye twitching as his brain makes all sorts of assumptions.

"Yes, Mrs. Reyes." He responds politely. "I'm a running back. Did you play football, Mr. Reyes?" He turns his attention to Gabriel. While you sense Josh is a well-mannered boy, you can see he's desperate to win Gabriel over.

"Basketball, mostly, but a little bit of football too." Gabriel offers a forced smile, and you can tell he's really trying to adjust to the newness of this scenario while fighting all his papa bear instincts.

"And please call me (Y/N)." You chime in, approaching your husband for a moment as you stroke his arm.

"I'd be scared to see you on the other team for sure." Josh laughs good-naturedly.

"He didn't always look that mean and scary, he was a lot dorkier in high school." Your daughter interjects, ignoring her father's scowl. "What? I've seen the pictures! Definitely not as big and burly as he is now."

Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest, sending your daughter a playful glare. "Well, a life in the military builds you up."

She rolls her eyes in the way she usually does. "Mom doesn't look like a tank."

"I know I've let myself go a little, but I'm not that out of shape!" You gasp, pretending to be offended by your daughter's comments.

"You're perfect, mi vida." Gabriel whispers, softening for a moment.

"Gross." She declares, her nose crinkling in disgust. "I'm gonna go change, okay?" Your daughter sends you a pleading look that begs you to keep things calm while she's gone.

She leaves the kitchen, and the room falls quiet before Gabriel fills the silence.

"So what are your intentions with my daughter?"

"Gabe!" You gasp, smacking him playfully. The poor boy was going to be traumatized.

"Uh, I just really like her, I swear." Josh's smile is soft and genuine. "She's sweet, she's been tutoring in Spanish because I've been struggling, and I help her with physics."

"She hates physics." You comment, knowing that the help would really be doing a lot for her.

Josh looks somewhat nervous, though entirely truthful. "We just realized we have a lot of fun together."

Gabriel simply nods.

"Happy?" You ask, brow raised. Time would tell what was to become of Josh, and what his intentions were--he really didn't need the interrogation.

"I understand." Josh offers. "My mom gave her a grilling too. She handled it really well, though."

You chuckle, though your chest flares with your own protective streak.

"As parents, we can't help but be overprotective." Gabriel adds.

"Some of us are better at keeping it to ourselves, but my husband is a barbarian." You nudge him with your hips teasingly. "I'm not going to pretend to understand you men."

"He's hardly a man." Gabriel comments and then is fixed with a sharp look from you. "No offense, kid."

"It's okay. When I heard her last name, I knew that if I hurt her, I'd probably end up in a ditch... sorry." Josh cringes, realizing that's probably a little too blunt.

"I wouldn't put you in a ditch. Too easy to find your body."

"Gabe!" You chastise, but the two are sharing a laugh regardless.

Gabriel is warming up to him, even if it's just a little bit. You know it'll take some time for him to truly trust Josh with your daughter's heart, but for now, it's a step in the right direction.

"Uh, Mr. Reyes," Josh begins the conversation again. "I was actually wondering, would you have any advice for someone looking to join the military?"

"Don't." Your husband replies without missing a beat.

"Hey now, if we both hadn't ended up in Overwatch, we never would've met." You add.

"I suppose." He says, before taking a moment to think of some actual advice. You can almost see him slip into Commander mode. "Whatever ego and pride you have going in won't get you anywhere. Leave it for your civilian life. And get a therapist sooner rather than later.

"Right, sounds good." Josh nods, a little taken aback.

"You know, if you're still together through your training, it's going to make things really difficult. Being with someone in the service isn't easy, and my daughter doesn't deserve to be hanging onto some guy who just comes and goes."

You cringe at Gabriel's harsh words, even if you're right there in believing your daughter deserves the best. "That seems slightly hypocritical of us to say."

Gabriel raises a brow at you. "It's not the same, you were right there with me."

"Don't go giving them ideas." You mutter. "But, it was still hard, as all relationships are. You can figure that one out for yourselves, though, I'm sure."

Josh seems to be absorbing the information. "Yeah. Thank you both for your honesty, though."

"Are you sure you don't want something to eat?" You ask, practically desperate to offer more hospitality.

"No, I'm okay, thank you."

"Piece of advice, if you're going to be sticking around." Gabriel begins, his voice not brash or challenging. "Accept the woman's cooking. She'll feed you one way or another." The words serve as a small olive branch.

"Yes sir." Josh nods, and you and Gabriel share a look.

"Everything okay?" Your daughter asks, returning to the kitchen with a skeptical look.

"Everything's fine." Her father replies, yet she looks to you for confirmation.

"It's good. I'm putting a pizza in the oven." You add.

"Of course you are, we're gonna go watch movies." She says, tugging Josh off of the stool.

"Not in your room, you're not." Gabe adds, ready to follow them both.

"Dad!" She cries.

"... I just wanted to spend some time getting to know the kid. Cálmate, chica." He smirks. "Besides, if we're all on the couch, you can cuddle up between your two favorite guys." Gabriel pulls your daughter into him, embarrassing her with kisses smothered all over her face.

She squirms, pretending to hate the attention. "Cállate la boca, papa!"

#gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes headcanon #reaper overwatch #overwatch fanfiction

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daimyosprincess · 7 months

Note

fym the librarian isn't counted it's literally us like 🙄 anyways ship game gimme 14 18 19 27 and 48!!! RIGHT NEOW!! (also maybe add a little 50 for angst 👀)

Ship ask game

Lmfaoooo 😂😂

It makes me so soft to know you guys wanna hear more about Professor Boba and his princess jgslkdjsklgjs anyways here we go

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

Boba is a more private person by nature so he doesn't do overly much in the ways of public displays of affection, saving those for more private times and places while she's more comfortable with PDA but respects Boba's boundaries and doesn't force him to show more than he's willing. He does encourage to voice her wants and needs freely and trusts her to respects his comfort, so if she asks to hold hands or have a kiss in public he'll almost always give it to her

(also I must add that although it's not really PDA but Boba absolutely keeps a hand on his girl's thigh at pretty much all times when he's driving with her in the car 🥴)

18. How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

Oh hoo boy if she's not feeling well because she's sick/on her period/having an off day it is absolute princess queen goddess treatment because he cannot stand knowing his babygirl is even the slightest bit uncomfortable (unless she wants to be 😈). If he can't be physically with her, it's phone calls and messages and making sure she has everything she needs as best he can. If he is able to be with her then he is, stopping by between his classes to bring her soup or meds and making sure she doesn't lift a finger. If she's having cramps, he's more than happy to be her personal heating pad, letting her snuggle up against him while he rubs her back.

Miss princess is just as astounded by Boba's superhuman immune system (how is the man never sick??) as she is frustrated at his tendency to put aside his own comfort to power through whatever task he's set before himself, whether that be staying up too late grading papers or not taking it easy at the gym when his knee is giving him trouble. She usually resorts to threatening him with such punishments as not sleeping until he does or putting Fennec on his case, but if she's really concerned about him she'll sit him down to talk about things.

(I have some plans to write a little something about princess taking care of her professor in Volume II of Ex Libris 🤭)

19. Do they wear each other’s clothes/jewelry?

Ok listen I am going insane over the thought of library princess making like a lil friendship bracelet type thing during like a library program or something and giving to Boba just to be cute then her realizing that he's been wearing it every day since dkgjaljggajg

Now since our beloved princess is a reader insert she doesn't have a body size so I can't say she would be able to wear any of Boba's clothes (so it's up to you my lovely readers!) but in a future Ex Libris chapter Boba is going to give her his class ring to wear on a necklace 😭

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

Answered in this ask

48. Do they talk about their future together? Why or why not?

So far, both of them have just been enjoying their relationship with no real expectations for the future (marriage, kids, etc.) but the way they're building their relationship easily leaves it open to those type of discussions.

Now when the topic of the future does come up and Boba tries to pull the old man card ("don't waste the rest of your life on an old man, princess") just know that she fucks him six ways from Sunday until he gets it through his head that she's not going anywhere without him 😌

50. Would they ever break up? If so, why? Who would handle the breakup better?

@baufraus how dare you bring up angst in a house that enjoys angst (with a happy ending sksksk)?!?!!?

With the strong foundation that the two of them have set, I don't think there's a lot that could break the two apart. Both Boba and princess value and have made communication a cornerstone of their relationship inside and outside the bedroom so if there's something that could possibly be relationship ending, they would do their best to talk about it and figure it out before it gets to that point.

NOW for the true angst: what if for some reason they did break up???? Boba is shutting down internally, just completely closing himself off to any emotion. He's throwing himself into his work and won't see the light of day unless Fennec yanks him out of his office by his collar. He'll carry on but in black and white, without the joyful color his feisty babygirl brought to his life--no more flowers on his dining room table, no more kisses stolen before class, no more laughter snuggled under sheets.

BUT that's never going to happen because library princess is never going to give her man up without the fight of a lifetime 💖

Taglist 💖

(if you don't wanna be tagged in ask stuff just let me know!)

@agirlnamejacq @burningfieldof-clover @marierg @dukeoftheblackstar @imarvelatthestars @saradika @baufraus @historianwithaheart @andrakass2 @samspenandsword @liadamerondjarin @sleepingsun501 @sgt-morgan @rescuethewretched @rexxdjarin @ladytano420 @writingwintermoon @pheo-nixpas-calian @acatalystrising @erinthevampire @xxladysquishyxx @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @kimiheartblade @shinyshayminflower @wings-and-beskar @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @wolffegirlsunite @echocola @100lxtters

#in conclusion i am in tears because i am so in love with them 🥲🥲🥲#i can't wait to get back to writing them but i must finish my other wip children first #ex libris fic #ask #ask game

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drabbles-mc · 9 months

Text

Not Yours Anymore

Steve Murphy x OC Mari Fernandez

For Day 24 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Challenge: exes having sex

Warnings: 18+, language, smut, hair pulling, alcohol, light angst, Steve being a lil bastard man

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: the way i craft up a new OC and immediately fall in love with her. trust that i WILL be looking for excuses to write more of her in the future sksksk

Narcos Taglist: @garbinge @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @hausofmamadas @narcolini @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

There was a moment when Maristela thought that she was hearing things. It’d been so long since she’d gotten a good night’s sleep that she thought she might’ve finally lost it. She tossed and turned, her thick dark curls spreading across the pillow and getting dangerously close to getting in her mouth as she did so. She tried to force herself to just go back to sleep, enjoy what precious little bit of rest she was getting, when she realized that the knocking sound wasn’t stopping. Someone was actually at her door.

She didn’t have to check the time to know that it was too late for visitors. Grabbing her gun off her bedside table, she fumbled her way out of bed and made her way to the other end of her apartment. She was shaking her head the entire way, partly to wake herself up, partly because she was already annoyed with whoever it was, whatever the situation was about to be.

Standing up onto her tip-toes, she glanced through the peephole. When she saw who was on the other side, she sucked in a slow, deep breath. She was reaching for the deadbolt when the knocking picked up again. She almost turned around and left him stranded there off the principle of it.

There was one more forceful knock before she heard him speak up from the other side. “C’mon, Mari.”

Rolling her eyes, she pulled the door open. Steve froze up, fist raised and ready to start knocking again. Her eyes flicked from his hand to his face. “You wake up Señora Sanchez down the hall with that shit, I won’t stop her from beating you with her newspaper.”

Steve meant to have something witty to say in response to that. He was usually better at that, the bitterness that they tried to pass off as the same rough sarcasm everyone used with each other throughout the base. But after everything that had happened that day, and then to show up and see her standing in front of him the way she was, all of his thoughts came to a screeching halt.

Her hair was messy, frizzy from sleep. He knew that she’d been tossing and turning based off that alone. Despite the remnants of eyeliner that were smudged beneath her eyes, darkening her already dark circles, she looked more alert than he’d felt before she opened the door. He saw the way she clutched her gun tightly in her hand. Her finger wasn’t on the trigger, but it wasn’t far from it either.

He could’ve handled all of those details with some semblance of grace. Or at least, whatever he had that was as close to grace as he could get. But then he saw her standing there in one of his old t-shirts. One that had rips along the seam of the collar, one that he was fairly certain she’d told him to throw out on more than one occasion. And yet she clearly hadn’t gotten rid of it either.

When he had stood there staring at her long enough without saying anything, she prompted him. “What, Murphy?”

He snapped out of it at the sound of her voice, more specifically at the sound of her calling him by his last name as she stood there in his fucking clothes. “I don’t think you get to call me that when you’re still wearing my shit,” he said, gesturing to the shirt she was wearing.

Looking down at herself, she scoffed. “You left it behind—not your shit anymore.” She paused, again waiting for an answer, an explanation, that didn’t come. “So? Did you actually finally come to get your t-shirts back or…?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Can I just,” he looked up and down the hallway, like he was starting to worry that your neighbor might come out of her apartment with a rolled up newspaper in her hand, “can I come in?”

She thought on it for a beat longer than she should have before finally stepping back, opening the door a little wider for him to step through. As he stepped past her, Mari could catch the scent of liquor, of cigarette smoke. One of those things was a constant with him, and one of them wasn’t. She put the locks back in place on the door, buying herself an extra couple of seconds, also giving him the same in case he suddenly felt like spitting out the reason he had shown up at her door in the middle of the night.

When she turned back around to face him again, the expression on his face had shifted. He still looked tired, still a little over it. But the edge in his features softened just slightly. Taking the few steps from the door to the center of her living room where Steve was standing, Mari raked her hand back through the mess of hair on top of her head. Steve couldn’t help but to notice the way the hem of his shirt crept slightly higher up her thighs as she did so. He also was too aware to miss the fact that it didn’t seem like she was wearing any shorts underneath it.

“Murphy,” she repeated, “what’s going on? Why…” she trailed off for a moment before deciding that the question didn’t need to be built out anymore. “Why?”

He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to fight the urge to snap back at her. An argument was so inviting. It was easy, and they were good at it. But he didn’t need a fight. “Please, Mari,” each word felt like a herculean effort as he tried to keep his tone in check, “can we drop the agent-officer bullshit for a minute? Please?”

That was the most she could ever remember hearing him say the word please. Stepping away, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass for each of them. The clatter of her gun against the counter felt deafening with how silent her apartment was.

“What happened?” she asked as she poured whiskey into both of them, a little more in hers than his.

He shook his head. “I feel like I’m losing my fuckin’ mind.”

She shrugged as she put the bottle away. “You probably are.”

“What the fu—”

“I’m sorry, did you come to your ex’s apartment in the middle of the night looking to be coddled?” she asked, the question as sarcastic as it was genuine. She had no idea what the fuck Steve would want from her at this point. He certainly hadn’t seemed like he wanted anything from her when he left her a few months before, throwing all her things that were at his apartment into a box and dropping it off like a care package.

“I don’t,” he shook his head as he walked into the kitchen, taking one of the glasses she’d poured for himself, “I don’t know. Who else was I gonna go to?”

“You and Peña in a spat or something?”

“He wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled out before taking a sip of the drink in his hand.

Mari shook her head. “I don’t think you get it.” She saw the incredulous look on his face and shrugged before downing more of her drink than she probably should have at once. “What? I still don’t know why you came banging on my door tonight.” She swirled the liquor around in the glass. “What do you want from me, Steve?”

His eyes dropped to the glass in his hand. “I don’t know.”

“Not to be a dick,” she took another sip of her drink, “but you remember that you left me, right? If you wanted middle of the night chats, maybe you shouldn’t have dumped me.”

The lack of fault in her statements stung, but still Steve said, “You still let me in.”

“Want me to kick you out?” she countered without hesitation.

“Mari—”

“Quit,” she waved him off with her hand that wasn’t holding her glass, “fuckin’ saying my name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you give a shit about me still. Like you’re not just here because you didn’t wanna be alone and you’ve got nowhere else to go.”

“Where do you go when you feel like that?”

The question he asked was not the question he meant. What he meant was who do you go to when you feel like that, but she didn’t correct him. “Nowhere,” she replied honestly. “I buckle the fuck down and get through it. Because the last time I tried going to someone,” she motioned back and forth between them, “we ended up here.”

“Want me to go?”

She let out a deep sigh. “So I can feel extra shitty when you leave and go get in a fight with some guy at a bar somewhere? End up in jail, or the hospital?” She shook her head. “No. You can sleep on the couch.”

The lift in his eyebrows said that he wanted to make a comment about the couch, but he was smart enough to, just this once, keep his commentary to himself. “Thanks.”

“Yea.” She finished off her drink, grabbing her gun before going to leave the kitchen. “Wait here. You can borrow one of my shirts.”

“Your—”

“You left them!” she called back.

Steve had no better judgment left at that point, so he found himself following Mari back towards her room. He assumed that she could hear him behind her, but she didn’t say anything. He lingered in the doorway for a moment as she crossed the threshold. It looked pretty much the same as the last time he’d been there. He watched her as she crossed the room to her dresser. She crouched down, pulling open one of the bottom drawers where, he assumed, she kept whatever shirts he’d left behind.

His brain couldn’t take the time to process the weight of that when he saw the way his shirt rode up, revealing the black fabric and lace that made up her panties. He sucked in a quick breath, the sound much more obvious than he had bargained for. He knew that Maristela heard it, because she was shaking her head as she balled up one of his shirts in her hand and stood back up. She nudged the drawer shut with her foot before turning around.

Steve was completely inside her room now. He was looking around, as though that would make it seem like he hadn’t just been staring at her. She tossed the shirt to him. “Couch is out in the living room, in case you forgot.”

He chuckled, catching what she’d just thrown. “Right.”

She collapsed the distance between the two of them. Looking up at him, she said, “Goodnight, Murphy.”

Dropping his head back, Steve stared up at the ceiling for a moment before letting his eyes close. “Can you not, with that?”

“What?”

Tilting his head back down, he looked at her. He leaned in, towering over her. “You know what.”

“If you wanted to stay on a first-name basis, maybe you shouldn’t have—”

He cut her off by pressing his lips against hers. He felt the way that she didn’t give in for a moment, the hesitation lasting just long enough to make him think that he was about to be on the receiving end of a palm to the face. He wouldn’t really be able to blame her for it. His body tensed up in return as he braced for it, but instead her palm landed against his chest as she finally let herself give into him.

Steve let the shirt she’d just handed him drop to the floor as he brought both his hands to her sides. They lingered for a moment before sliding down over her hips. He pushed the fabric of the t-shirt up, bunching it until the pads of his fingers were grazing across skin instead of cotton. His fingers splayed across her back, sliding down until they were slipping just beneath the waistband of her underwear.

She broke their kiss as he maneuvered her back towards her bed. “You’re still sleeping on the couch,” she said, her breath warm against his skin.

He kissed her again, rough and brief, teeth tugging at her bottom lip just slightly as he pulled away. “No one’s sleeping yet.”

Steve picked her up, all but tossing her onto the mattress. He peeled his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside before undoing his belt and pushing his jeans to the floor. He was down to just his boxers as he climbed up onto the bed, positioning himself over her, slotting one leg between hers. He kissed her, hand creeping up to cup the side of her face for a brief moment before his fingers wound their way back into her hair. He gripped onto her and pulled, earning a moan from her as her eyes shut, her body moving with the force he was giving. She arched her back, her core grinding against his thigh that was between her legs.

He only let go over her so that he could pull her underwear down her legs. Once they were low enough Mari kicked them off the rest of the way. Her legs were trembling with anticipation as his hand snaked up the inside of her thigh.

“Oh my god,” Steve’s words came out somewhere between a whisper and a moan as he trailed his fingers between her legs, feeling how wet she already was.

Mari tried not to think too much about the sound of Steve’s voice in that moment, tried not to let it sink its claws into her the way that it used to. Instead she gripped onto the waistband of his boxers and started to push them down. A distraction but also something that got them closer to the end goal.

Steve was quick to help her kicking out of his boxers and tossing them off the bed. He pulled her legs so that they were wrapped around his waist. His hand came back to the side of her face. He was about to pull her lips to his, thrust into her and lose himself, but she planted her palm flat against his chest. Her arm was stiff, keeping the barrier between them.

Confusion crossed Steve’s face. “What—”

She answered with her actions instead of her words. Shifting her hips and pushing against his chest, she easily maneuvered the two of them so that their positions were reversed. Steve was flat on his back beneath her, Mari left straddling his waist. He looked up at her, eyes a little wider than they had been. The smirk that was curling the edge of his mouth made Mari’s thoughts get fuzzy for a moment before she remembered the reality of it all.

His hands found purchase on her waist, gripping tight as he lined her up with him. Her palms were flat against his chest, fingertips setting into him just slightly as her eyes raked down his entire body until they reached the point where they were about to be connected. She felt the delicious dig of his grip as he pulled her, thrusting into her.

She would’ve hated how easily they found their rhythm again if it didn’t feel so good. Steve’s hands ran up her back, her fingers curling over the curves of his shoulders as her hips rolled against his. She could feel the tension in Steve’s muscles, the way he was fighting to have any semblance of self-control. His eyes roamed over her body and face. For as much as he was losing himself in the feel of her, all the sensations he thought he’d never get to experience again, he couldn’t help but to soak up the look of her too. The way her jaw was a little lax, the way her hair was starting to fall in front of her shoulders. Maybe he didn’t have the right to be looking at her like that anymore, but then again he didn’t have a right to be doing most of what he’d done already so he might as well go for broke.

Mari moved her hands from his shoulders. Steve watched as she brought them to the bottom hem of the shirt she was wearing. She was about to take it off, easily slip it off over her head and toss it aside with everything else. Before she could, Steve reached out and stopped her, grabbing tightly onto her wrists. She stilled as she looked down at him, traces of confusion lingering in her features along with everything else.

His voice came out low, raspy as he said, “Leave it on.”

She hated that he said it like that. Hated even more that it sent a jolt right to her core to hear it. She listened, though, relinquishing the fabric from her grip. She shook her head at Steve, leaning down to bring her lips to his in a kiss. Right before she did, she muttered out a quiet, “Motherfucker,” before locking her lips onto his.

Once she leaned down to kiss him, Steve wrapped his arms around her. He kept her close, feeling her hips move against his as her tongue slid along the inside of his bottom lip. In that moment the mess of everything was blotted out. It was just her pressed against him, all of the complications of it gone for the time being. Life outside the four walls of her bedroom didn’t exist and they were both better for it.

He could feel that she was getting close, the whines she let out, the intensity of her movements. Steve gripped onto her hair again, pulling her head back just enough so that he could get access to her neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there. He felt the way Mari’s nails dug into him in retaliation, but it only served to help pull him over the edge with her. His other hand glued itself to her hip as he came, pinning her as tightly to him as he could manage as he spilled into her.

She was breathless as she let herself collapse against him. All the tension in her muscles was gone. Her head dropped, forehead pressing against Steve’s shoulder close to where her nails had dug before. Both his hands drifted to her back, wandering over the fabric of the shirt she still had on.

After a few minutes of quiet between them, they each caught their breath. Mari carefully separated herself from Steve, flopping onto the mattress beside him. She was staring up at the ceiling and she could feel him looking over at her.

“You still have to sleep on the couch,” she said, draping her arm across her forehead.

He chuckled. “You sure?”

“Positive.” Her eyes shut, heart still racing faster than it should’ve been in her chest.

“Fine. Gonna keep the shirt you gave me, though.”

She shook her head as she watched him slip back into his boxers and grab the shirt from the floor. She huffed out a quiet laugh as he made his way back towards the door. “Night, Steve.”

He was glad she couldn’t see the small shift in his expression as he registered the words. “Night, Mari.”

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