#I think it's the one-two combo that's really getting my ass

[its-hai-time]

hello Nimona people

[dirt-str1der]

Sagawa is unfuckable in my head but in my heart he and nishitani had something embarrassing going on

[writerpeach]

Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

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Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it." 

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem. 

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even. 

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you. 

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways. 

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer. 

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one. 

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck. 

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—" 

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in. 

"When has that ever stopped us before?" 

She has a point. 

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting. 

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt. 

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher— 

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her. 

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties. 

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation. 

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs. 

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks. 

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off. 

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left. 

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her. 

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?" 

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft. 

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead. 

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” 

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down. 

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease. 

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.” 

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat. 

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this. 

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost. 

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat. 

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls. 

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“ 

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?” 

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed. 

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.” 

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure. 

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second. 

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.” 

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release. 

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste. 

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell. 

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit. 

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun. 

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation. 

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor." 

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?” 

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.” 

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.” 

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.” 

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort. 

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit. 

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff. 

And then it's all over for both of you. 

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents. 

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself. 

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture. 

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is. 

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock. 

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off. 

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach. 

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade." 

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?" 

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit. 

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you. 

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on. 

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own. 

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release. 

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“ 

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.” 

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.” 

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point. 

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple. 

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students. 

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever. 

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up. 

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin. 

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is. 

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor. 

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit. 

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth. 

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge. 

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight. 

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely. 

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt. 

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness. 

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her. 

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up. 

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you. 

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release. 

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already. 

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around. 

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet. 

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it. 

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further. 

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out." 

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“ 

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in  warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for. 

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.  

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end. 

And truly, both of you wish it never would. 

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth. 

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.” 

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has. 

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.” 

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door. 

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up." 

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out. 

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt. 

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out. 

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up. 

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp. 

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt. 

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor." 

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to. 

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?" 

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..." 

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice. 

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two. 

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans. 

But maybe you won't. 

[nak4m8to]

Big Boss (18+)

corporate! au l rivals to lovers! l nsfw smut mdni!

summary : mingyu, a charismatic and ambitious executive, finds himself in a tense professional relationship with the reader. The reader, harboring a deep-seated dislike for mingyu, navigates the cutthroat corporate world with a determination to outshine him at every turn. As the two clash in boardroom meetings and compete for promotions, the ceo forces them to collaborate on a high-stakes project.

content : executive chef! mingyu, mixed! reader, mingyu being an asshole a lil bit + eavesdropper conversation SMUT! office sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m. and f.) degradation , praise, bigdickmingyu!, filthy and messy ass sex, cocky! mingyu, jealous! mingyu, jealous! reader, seungkwan and yeri gossiping,

wc : 8,649 k ( damn)

an : finally out! hope you’ll like as much i liked write it. Let me know what you think ! sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.Thank you for all the likes and the sweet comments <3

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One thing you specifically hate about him is how his smell lingered everywhere he went. The strong musky smell with the additional smell of his strong freshly pressed coffee. It was his signature fragrance. Every time, you smelled that strong coffee it reminded you of Mingyu. It might be one of the reasons of the loathe towards him, you can't get him out of you mind. This aversion, perhaps intensified by the constant reminder of him, was further fueled by the intense competition for the significant promotion your boss had put forward.

You also hate the way he was getting into your nerve every time he gets the chance too, it also felt you both have the same brilliant ideas in some of your projects. You hated his perfect face, the different moles on his face, you can even know where they are located. On his left cheek, on in his forehead and on his nose. His striking appearance in that perfectly tailored suit irked you. You hated how his long hair makes him look even better than he already is. You hated how small and intimidated you felt next to him even though you're not that small specially in those heels and how confident you are.

Although, he hated you too. He hated the sound of your heels clicking on the floor, he knows the sound of it better than the back of his hand. He hated the way your curls were surrounding your face, he hated the fact that you never came without your infamous lip combo, he might even know the products that you used, he think it's fenty ? hot chocolate something ? he hate the way you've smiled to every colleagues except him. He hated that you like to show off your body, either with those short skirt, long enough to be corporate appropriate but short enough to tease him, your glowy tan legs always makes you look ethereal or even when you wear those shoulder showing shirt.

Entering the new company building, you present your business card at the automatic gantries and exchange greetings with the receptionists. While waiting for the elevator, Mr Lee surprises you with a cheerful greeting, mentioning that the boss wants to see you for a presentation.

Entering the elevator and he press the button to level number six. "Really ? I hope he needs me to do it though it'll help for the promotion"  you said winking at him. You start checking yourself through the mirror just to make sure your hair is in place until you see a silhouette coming from afar. Tall, large shoulders, long hair. Fuck that asshole, you said you to yourself.

"I don't know how you manage with all these project without a burn out reader" Listening to Mr. Lee as the frustration build up, you focus on the elevator buttons, you press them repetitively, not wanting to be near that man.

"Me too, I don't know how I manage, I just like competing against Mr.Kim I guess" hearing the brown hair man chuckles next to you but your attention is fixed on avoiding Mingyu.

As the elevator doors close, you flash a fake smile at Mingyu, successfully leaving him behind." I can't bare him" "I think everyone can see that reader ... You know one day you'll need to cooperate with him for work" "hopefully this day is not coming soon" You sighed while checking your e-mails in your phone. The small ding of the elevator makes your head to look up and the door opens. "After you Mrs. Reader" said Mr.Lee letting go out first."Thank your Mr.Lee" smiling at him. While walking towards your office, you felt eyes burning  in your back, mostly your ass. Let's said that the dress you wore gave you justice. Did Mr. Lee let you pass so he can stare at your ass ? Did he ? He didn't right ?

Installing your bag in chair, you send a greeting to Seungkwan, sitting across of the open space, busy talking business with a client on the phone. "Hey! Ready to start the day ?" Yeri said to you "Girl have you seen the bags under my eyes ?" you give her a dead plan face expressing how tired you are but you can't show it to your superiors like Mr. Lee or even worse to your boss otherwise they would stop handing you important cases for the company due to the lack of sleep. Securing the promotion is essential to give recognition and reward sacrifices you've made so far, you deserve to be paid well. And bonus, Mr.Kim will not be your supervisor anymore. Well technically, he's still be your supervisor but he will not have that much authority anymore. Yeri start to rub her hand in your back to soothe the soreness due to the stress that your body endured. You start to printed out an important file that you supposed to handle to Mr.Jeon later so he can complete the remaining task by himself. Sighing in front of the computer, not prepared of what is waiting for you to be done at the end of the day

After a few hours, you finally get up and take the file with you. "Good luck reader ! You got it, Mr.Jeon will love your work anyway you're brilliant!" Seungkwan said trying to reassure you. "Thanks but he's kind of having that scary aura though" you said rubbing your neck trying to calm the anxiety down. "He does but you just need to seduce him a little a bit" Yeri winking at you making you laugh and relax a bit "I heard that he's a boob guy either way you have your chance, show a bit of cleavage and voilà" Seungkwan exaggerated the cleavage motion making you giggle even more, as you playfully hit his shoulder with the file. "You are both insufferable" "Perhaps we are, but you look less stress now"

You knocks firmly at the door, you hear a small "Enter", you pushed the door. Mr.Jeon smiled faintly at you as you enter his office. Always with his infamous specs resting on his nose. Someone already occupying the chair across from him, even from behind you recognized who is it. "Hello Mr.Jeon, here is what I found" handing the file to Mr. Jeon, who is seated at his desk."Thanks Reader, I'll try my best to continue what you've done""And me ? I don't deserve a hello ? after what you've done earlier" You meet his brown-eyed gaze, the intensity of it makes your thighs clench involuntarily. He sits in front of you, manspreading, his face propped up by his hand. As you observe him, the urge to wipe that irritating smirk off his face intensifies, especially with that damn suit. Surprisingly, you realize you might have a thing for men in suits, you didn't know that it was possible to have one. "What did I do? I don't recall anything " one of your eyebrows raised. He shift in his seat ready to answer you but Mr.Jeon interrupted him before its start to get hectic."Thank you again for working with me reader" "No problem, see you later" and you exit without giving a chance to Mingyu to reply. His tongue glides over his lips "Feisty" Wonwoo gazing on the file that you handed him. " I like em' like that"

Lunch time finally arrived, you rise, stretching your arms while waiting for Yeri to conclude her call. "Damn, that client didn't want me to finish with her" "Yeah I've heard that, let's go grab some lunch I'm starving, Seungkwan will join us"

Grabbing food in the restaurant's company, you ate your lunch while Yeri is talking about how she found the new recruit cute. You don't really recall his name. "Reader ! He's here oh my god look at him ! how the shirt hugs his arms" whisper-shouted, pointing at a tall, blond man with a mullet. Mr. Lee was showing him around. "He seems really cute, what's his name again?"

"Chan, you don't listen when I talk, right?" "Not everything, not gonna lie" "Something must be occupying your mind ? What is it ? Did Mr Jeon didn't like your work ?" "No, he didn't say anything about it" Little did you know that a pair of ears were eavesdropping your conversation with your favorite colleague. "You remember the guy that I met at the bar the other night ?" "Yeah, what about him" "He's cute but he was awful in bed" "Damn you have no chance at all" "The only way to make me feel better after those agitating weeks is literally having sex, and even that I can't have it" "I'll help you to find another guy that will make you cum I promise" putting her hands on your naked shoulder. "I can't even trust you anymore, do you know how long I didn't fucking cum ?!" whispering-shouting in your turn. Mingyu couldn't believe what he was hearing, you were mainly acting like a bitch towards him, particularly these last weeks, because you hadn't cum ?!

He felt betrayed and pleased simultaneously—betrayed because other guys had the chance to feel your skin under their touch and pleased due to the fact that you didn't get any pleasure from it. A demonic smirk adorned his face, he left the place not wanting to know more about it.

"Gossip of the day girls !" Yeri and you turn your heads in sync after hearing seungkwan's voice. "Well, one concerns you, reader. Why didn't you tell us that you closed the elevator's door in front of Mr Kim's face this morning ?!" "Reader ? Seriously?" Yeri uttered. "I was already pissed from that terrible weekend, I didn't want to interact him that early! I didn't know that Mr Lee is a snitch though!" "I think half of the people that work here kinda know that" "What's the second gossip of the day?" "The new hot guy will work with us" "No fucking way !" Yeri squealed like a teenager girl. "We were literally talking about him" "Yeri you better fuck him by the end of the year" "Don't listen to him, it'll be weird in the office if you guys have sex. Don't mix business and pleasure"

"Reader, you're boring ! We want drama! We want thrill in our life !" "Hey, look at that girl twirling her hair while talking to Mr. Kim." Your eyes follow the scene in front of you, capturing the interaction. The blonde girl is giggling at whatever Mingyu whispers in her ear, her laughter echoing in the air. One of her hands confidently grabs his biceps, creating an intimate connection that sends a pang of jealousy creeping into your chest when your eyes lock with Mingyu's. The atmosphere is charged with unspoken dynamics, and you notice the subtle shifts in body language between them. Mingyu's charismatic smile, the girl's playful gestures "I bet that joke wasn't that funny," Seungkwan remarks, rolling his eyes, sensing the tension in the air.

Adjusting your smudged lipgloss after the meal, you receive a message from your boss, Mr. Choi, instructing you to visit his office in fifteen minutes. Is this related to what Mr. Lee mentioned earlier this morning? "Guys, Boss wants me in his office. We'll catch up later for a break?" "Yeah! Good luck, reader! Think about the promotion." "I will."

The echo of your boots against the carpet prompts a smirk from Mingyu, signaling his awareness of your presence. Spotting him waiting for the elevator, you find yourself doing the same, unable to resist staring at how his suit accentuates his broad back. Catching a whiff of his distinctive scent, you unconsciously bite your lip, even with a layer of lip gloss applied.

As the elevator dings, coworkers exit with polite smiles, and you and Mingyu exchange nods with them. Inside the elevator, a subtle nervousness creeps in with him standing so close. Your fingers hover over the button for the ninth floor when you feel his rugged fingers brush against yours, both selecting the same floor. Startled, you withdraw your hand and fix your gaze on the closing doors, trying to feel indifferent to this sudden contact.

He breaks the silence, saying, "You know, there's no need to keep such a distance. I don't bite unless it's asked." "Don't worry, I just prefer to maintain a certain distance from you" responding to him while trying to distract yourself with your rings wrapped around your fingers. He start to shamelessly checking you out, causing your body to heat you. His eyes couldn't resist to your exposed back shoulder and neck. His weakness was really how that dress tightly embraced your hips and accentuated your ass. He start to think what you'd look like bent over on his office's desk with the lower part of the dress bunched up in your waist and the upper part exposing completely your tits. His thoughts were lost on what if you are wearing a bra underneath this god damn dress. You mentally cursed yourself why did you wore that thick dress, but you really like how you looked with it . The material was not appropriate for a Mingyu situation.

Ding, the door finally open and you unconsciously released the breath that you've been holding and star to lead the walk. Confused you still feel him following you, is he not going somewhere else ? Halting just outside Mr. Choi's door, you abruptly turn to find his equally puzzled expression. "Why are you following me?" "I could ask you the same. I have a crucial meeting with Seungcheol; he informed me about a last-minute project. I don't think you'll be needed, reader," he says in a manner that implies only a supervisor can handle such situations, making you feel inferior.   

"Mr Kim, could you stop being so full of yourself for once?" The door unexpectedly swung open, surprising you both, revealing a blond concerned Mr. Choi. Did he died his hair ? Well, he looks hot blond. "I was waiting for your arrival. Enter; we don't have much time." You both approach his office, and he guides you to sit on the chairs across his desk while he takes his place.

"So, I've gathered both of you because I have a last-minute meeting in 3 days with SM Inc." "I thought it was planned for next month." "They advanced it." Mingyu's muttered curse makes me realize the severity of the situation. "Jeonghan is already handling a mission in Japan, and I have to go help him because he's facing difficulties. That's why I'm asking you, Mingyu. You're a good negotiator and a wise man," Mr. Choi says, looking at him. "And Reader, in just a few months, you've proven to the whole company how much you can do. You're my best asset, and you can come up with good arguments."

"But Mr. Choi, I can't even think of one argument right now. I'm not suggesting you to reconsider someone else, but Mr Kim and I have two distinct ways to work, so-" "I already know that. That's why I'm asking both of you to do it." You feel cornered because it's a critical issue and mostly because you need to cooperate with the asshole next to you.

Fingers running through his hair, Mingyu is thinking how he can complete a month's work in just 3 days. "We will offer them to take 12% of our shares, no more or less, and try to come up with good arguments." You start biting your lips out of nervousness. "Put your differences aside and work together for the company's future."

"I can work with her, but I don't think she can. She's quite temperamental," Mingyu says, turning his head towards you. Your eyes shoot daggers at him. "What do you mean by that, Mr. Kim? Are you implying that women cannot control their emotions?" As you size him up "I'm not saying women, I'm just saying you. Don't generalize it." "Hey, calm down, you two! This is crucial!" Wanting to roll your eyes, you resist the urge due to the fact that you have too much respect for your boss.

"If it helps, the one with the best arguments will be promoted." "I'm on it then." "Same!" "That's the spirit!" your boss claps his hands together. "But you're on the same team, okay? Don't make it too personal."  Someone enters the office without knocking. "So, you've told them?" You turn your head to the man with short blond hair who just came through the door. What’s up about them with dyed blond hair ? Start to question yourself. "Yeah, I think they're both ready to work on it." The blonde man smirks at you, sensing his gaze. He approaches, takes your hands, and presses his soft lips on them. "I don't recall meeting you before. I'm Kwon Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi." Startled by his persona, you mutter a small "nice to meet you" out of respect. The dark-haired man on your side felt a pang of jealousy. More of possessiveness, why those men throw themselves at you. You're supposed to be exclusively his and only his he wondered.

"If you have more questions, ask Hoshi; he knows SM.Inc quite a lot." "Seriously, I should trust him," says Mingyu with an unserious smile on his face. "For that case, I think you should." "That pretty much it, thank you for your implication on it"

Rising from your chair and quitting Mr. Choi's office, Mingyu follows your every move. Suddenly, his calloused hands grab your wrist, and he instructs, "Reader, meet me in my office in 20 minutes." Instinctively pulling your arm away, you assert, "Firstly, don't grab me like that, and don't even think about putting your hands on me. Secondly, why in your office? I can work in my own and send you the arguments I've gathered." His hands release your wrist, and he explains, "Seungcheol mentioned that we need to collaborate, and we'll finish more early if two brains work together. Besides, my office offers the privacy and calm." He said implying the loudness of your open space with your noisy colleagues. You sigh, acknowledging the truth in his words but choosing not to admit it due to your pride. "Well, I need to call my client, inform her that Yeri will handle her mission alone, and I need coffee." Mingyu raises an eyebrow, "So thirty minutes will be enough?" suggesting the time required for your meeting. "I think so." "Now, if you excuse me," he passes closely by you, his body brushing against yours. Stunned, you can't help but flutter your eyes, too surprised to respond. "I thought you two were about to rip each other's throats out," Hoshi comments, accompanying you to the elevator. "I almost did." As the elevator doors close in front of Hoshi's and your face, you see Mingyu smirking, muttering, "Now we're even."

"No fucking way!" Yeri exclaims in shock as you deliver the news to her. "That mean I have to withdraw from the other case that we started, sorry" you said to her filling a bit upset. "Don't be sorry ! I'm more shocked that you will be working with Mr Kim!" "Who's working with who ?!" Seungkwan chimes in abruptly sipping his iced coffee. "Reader and Mingyu have a last-minute project that Mr Choi handled them, the presentation will be given in 3 days" "And now I have to meet him in 15minutes" you checked your phone " Wait, wait, wait" Seungkwan interrupts, making you both stop " So you're telling me that you'll be in the same room as Mr Kim by yourselves for the next 4 hours ?!" "Yeah, why ?" "Someone will be dead tonight" "Either him or her"  "Or something else could happen"

You finish your call with your client, grabbing your laptop as you leave. "Please do not kill him; he's too hot to die young," Yeri jokes. "Like I care." "She seriously hates him." You confidently stride to his office, knocking on the door before entering. It feels like your first time stepping into his cold office, adorned with a small, expensive brown couch and a coffee table that looks as pricey as your rent. The closed blinds provide a cozy atmosphere, you can see throughout the blinds the beautiful view of the city from the windows. But it can't beat the view that you had of him. His attention is absorbed by the computer and scattered papers on his desk.

"I thought you'd never come," he remarks. "Well, here I am." His scrutinizing gaze lingers on your body unintentionally. "Here, come sit." Mingyu gestures towards a comfortable chair across from him, creating a necessary distance. You don't think you can focus with his buff body beside you. Seated, you open your laptop, both of you diving into your tasks, surprisingly the silence was comfortable and not a single moment of awkwardness happened. Focused on the critical situation and driven by competitiveness for the upcoming promotion, you find yourselves working together more smoothly than anticipated. As you can hear him shift on his chair. You glance in your rearview mirror, catching Mingyu as he takes off his suit jacket. Unable to resist, your eyes fixate on the muscles bulging beneath his shirt, particularly his pectoral muscles straining against the fabric. The desire to feel those muscles under your nails intensifies, and your mind starts to wonder about how he could manhandle you. Mingyu senses the intensity of your gaze, creating an unspoken tension in the air. "You like the view" Startled by his question "You really have a nice view of the city" avoiding the real question.

He smirks, nodding at your reply, and decides to tease you further. "If you ever need help with anything else, feel free to ask," referring to the overheard conversation from noon. Oblivious to the context, you assert, "I don't think I'm struggling with anything right now." Unaware that he's alluding to your earlier discussion about difficulties reaching climax with your partners.

Ding, your phone buzzes with a message. "Is it from the guy who couldn't make you cum?" Mingyu remarks, causing warmth to spread across your face and deep within your torso. Feeling humiliated, you scold him, "Where did you hear that?" With a nonchalant tone "You have to be careful about those discussions in the office, it's not really appropriate" "You’re quite a pervert to listen to women's discussions" Not knowing what to response to him. Uncomfortable with his prying, you open your phone to check Hoshi's message, attempting to avoid Mingyu's gaze.

Rising from his chair, Mingyu walk towards you, positioning himself in front of you. He locks your gaze with his, one hand securing the armrest of your chair and the other under your jaw. His touch feels warm, and you can't help but bite your lips as his whispered words about helping you echo in your ears. "I was not joking when I said I could help you with that" While Mingyu was thinking how you look with your mouth stuffed with his heavy cock, with your puffy, glossed lips surrounding his dick. You resist moaning by biting down harder on your lower lip. Attempting to excuse yourself to retrieve the file with Hoshi, you start to get up, but Mingyu's body remains an obstacle. His hand settles on the lower part of your back, making your knees weak. You feel the heat rising from your hands resting on his pecs, eyes still locked. However you can't help to feel something heavy poking on your lower tummy due to how squished your body's on him, fuck he's big big. "I really need to go," you plead, meeting his eyes, and he relents, allowing you to escape his touch. "You can't avoid it forever, Mrs. Reader," he warns, and you promise to return."I'll be back"As you leave, the rhythmic pulsing in your head makes you feel foolish. Surrendering to him so easily leaves you unsettled. You know just with this contact, you feel your thong dampened.

"Hey, Reader, here's the file that could help you for SM. Inc. Wow, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?" "Just a little bit stressed." "Come take a break with us." You sit yourself next to Mr. Lee, who was discussing with Hoshi before you came. "I would make you a coffee; you'll feel better," says Hoshi. "Is working with Mingyu really that bad?" Your voice sounds tired. "He's quite special, let's say it like that." Hoshi is back, giving you an espresso, which you kindly accept. You sip it while Hoshi explains what will be beneficial for SM to take part of your action. As you take a look at the folder in front of you, Mingyu enters the same room as you. "Do you need me already, Mr. Kim?" All heads turn toward him. Even other coworkers in the open space are looking at him; well, some of them are devouring his veiny arms exposed by his folded shirt's sleeve. Some of them, including you, of course. "You said you would pick up the file, not discuss with Hoshi," his eyes are going back and forth between you and his colleagues. You felt everyone's eyes trying to follow the discussion between him and you. "Well, I have it, but he was just advising me." "I thought you didn't need any help," implicitly talking about your previous conversation with him, but nobody knew what you were talking about. Then the same blonde woman from lunch came and asked, "Mr. Kim, do you need my help? I think I'll be a better help than Mrs. Reader." started to provoking you, the only reaction you gave her was rolling your eyes. However, she was almost about to grab his arm that you get up, and you do it instead, which makes Mingyu look surprised about your sudden reaction. Are you jealous? "I think Mr. Choi insisted that only Mr. Kim and I are required in this project, but thank you for your kind offer." You smile fakely at her and drag Mingyu into the quiet corridors. Hoshi and Dokyeom start to look at each other, thinking if this scene really happened in front of them.

"That was... something," Hoshi comments as you and Mingyu leave the room. "I think 'something' is quite the word to describe what happened in front of us." said Dokyeom to his colleague.

The two of you walk down the quiet corridor away from prying eyes. "What was that about?" you ask Mingyu, curiosity and a touch of irritation in your tone. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replies with an innocent look, though his eyes betray a hint of mischief. "Oh, please. The little show you just put on in there," you retort, not buying into his act. "You seem a bit... possessive," he smirks, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Don't flatter yourself. I just don't appreciate unnecessary distractions." Rolling your eyes, you continue down the corridor, leaving Mingyu to follow your lead. The tension between you two hangs in the air, a silent agreement that this project is going to be far from ordinary. Before you even enters his office, his hands pinned you against the wall of the hallway. Both of his hands on attached to your hips. "What the-" You didn't even finish your sentences that he smashed his lips into your glossy one. You can't help feel shocked

As Mingyu's lips press against yours, you're momentarily stunned, caught off guard by the unexpected intensity of the kiss. His actions are bold, and you find yourself torn between pushing him away and succumbing to the surprising rush of sensations. The hallway, usually a space of quick transits and business-like exchanges, transforms into a inappropriate scene

His hands, which initially held you firmly, start to explore the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. One of them groping your ass firmly making you unconsciously moan into his lips . While the other one is firmly cupping your jaw. Your initial shock evolves into a mixture of confusion and something else—a strange, electrifying connection. Both of your hands are secured in shoulder too stunned to used them. His lips start to tingle due the lipgloss you applied earlier.

Just as quickly as it began, Mingyu pulls away, leaving you breathless and disoriented. His eyes, dark and intense, lock onto yours, and the unspoken tension lingers in the air. "What the hell was that?" you manage to stammer, trying to regain your composure.

Mingyu, usually so confident and composed, appears somewhat disheveled. A flicker of uncertainty passes through his eyes, but it's quickly replaced by his signature smirk. "Consider it a reminder, Reader. We may have to work together, but it doesn't mean I'll play nice."

Before you can respond, he steps back, leaving you against the wall, heart pounding. The quiet corridor bears witness to the unexpected encounter, and as Mingyu heads into his office, you're left grappling with a mixture of emotions, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and irritation.

You try to pluck up one's courage and enter his office, locking the door behind you, which makes his head lift with a perplexed look. Determination fuels your steps as you stride towards him, reaching out to grab him by his tie. The air in the room thickens with tension as your eyes lock onto his, silently daring him to react. As you close the distance between you two and share a heated kiss. The taste of lingering coffee and the electrifying chemistry between you both intensify the moment. The world outside that office seems to fade away as the kiss deepens, blurring the lines between rivalry and desire.

The other hand gripping the back of his neck, wanting to feel the texture of his hair. Mingyu picks you up easily as you legs secure themself around his waist. Both of his hands are grasping your asscheeks. "I hate you so much" you mutters on his lips. He chuckled making your pussy clench on nothing. "Well if you came here kissing me then you want my help do you?". You nods at his words which he didn't like it. "Use your words and tell me what you really want" Your nails are grazing the skin of the back of his neck making him shivers. "I want you to make me me cum" you said still looking at his eyes, and the corners of his lips curl into a smug smile. "You hate me so much, yet you desire me," he remarks, his hands sliding down your back, sending shivers down your spine. He puts you down on his papers scattered desks. "Why should I help you?" he teases, pulling away slightly, but your grip on his hair tightens. The scent of his cologne envelops you, adding to the intoxicating mix.

"Because," you breathe, your voice laced with frustration and need, "I can't stand the thought of you being the reason I'm left unsatisfied." Mingyu smirks, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on your waist. "You're quite the complex woman, Reader," he says, his lips dangerously close to yours. Felling his hot breath in your neck, with how close he is. "But if that's what you want, I'll make you beg for it."

Mingyu's hands trail along the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses til you right shoulder, that ignite a fire within you. Your hands tangle in his hair as you guide him,your mind conflicted between hatred and the throbbing need pulsating between your legs. The fabric of your off-shoulder dress becomes a tantalizing barrier, amplifying the heat between you.

The tension in the room intensifies as desire and rivalry intertwine, creating a palpable atmosphere. As he slowly guides the top of your dress under your tits. "No bra ? You're such a tease" You didn't had time to answer him that his hot mouth engulfed your brown aerola making you moan while his other hand firmly played with your other tit. What a view you thought to yourself, Mingyu sucking at your tits was not in your bingo card. "Most of beautiful tits I have ever seen"

Mingyu's hands, strong and demanding, explore the contours of your tits with a familiarity that surprises you. The cool surface of his desk meets your back as he lays down you effortlessly, the contrast of the polished wood against your heated skin sending a shiver through your body. His teeth grazing your nipple makes you elicits a moan, and you instinctively tighten your grip behind his neck. "Mr Kim ... please don't leave any trace." Mingyu smirks, his eyes locked onto your pleading expression. "Well, You're mine now," he asserts, pulling away from your chest to capture your lips. As his hands work to gather the fabric of your long dress around your thighs, you respond with a sigh on his lips. Attempting to assert dominance, you bite his lip, only to succumb to the overpowering sensation of his hot tongue invading your mouth. Wanting to feel him more, you spread your thighs to let him a place between them. Allow your hands to glide along his back and powerful biceps. You can't help to whimper feeling his muscles twitch under your touch. The soft hum of approval escapes his lips, when you start to rub your hands to his semi-hard. You can't help try to size up how big he is.

He grap both your wrist and pinned them down on his desk. He breaks the kiss, observing your curly hair framing your face, your eyes lost in pleasure.

He turns your around, placing you on your stomach, as your tits pressed against the desk. At this moment, he couldn't care less about the paper. The sight you present him with your ass makes his tongue glide along his lips with hunger. Flipping your dress to your waist, he's gifted with your round ass, the only barrier being your wet thong hiding your pussy. Feeling his cock growing even harder. He wish he could take a picture of how docile and how you offer yourself to him.

Cocking an arrogant grin, Mingyu leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Now, that's a delightful view, don't you think?" His hands slide sensually over your ass, teasingly grazing the edges of your thong. "I could have everything I want right now, but I enjoy seeing you squirm." You clench your fists, frustration and desire intertwining. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He chuckles, the sound low and provocative. "Oh,  now it's Mingyu ?" He smooths his palm on you ass and spank you just right after. Your body flinched after the impact with a whine leaving your lips. "I plan to push it as far as it can go. But for now, let's focus on what you asked for, shall we?"  His fingers played with your thong as he takes it off slowly still teasing you. "I like it when you say my name" He started to caress you everywhere except your pussy, you can't help to squirm to show your frustration.

“If you want me to help you, you'll have to ask nicely," he murmurs, a devilish glint in his eyes. You can't help yourself to surrender to him, “Mingyu touch me” Pang his palm hit you ass makes you want to cry but deep down you loved  the way he treated you and he knew that just by the way your pussy's lips are puffy and how your hole keep producing more wetness. He knew that you were completely aroused about this situation so was he. His hard on start to feel more painful as he continues to playfully provoke you, he takes pleasure in observing your reactions to his every move. “I said ask nicely, slut” He can even see how your hole clenched around nothing. “Please Mingyu, touch me with your fingers” You begged him desperately wanting his thick fingers inside you. “That's how you’re supposed to beg slut” One of his finger enter your pulsating walls as you twitch from the intrusion. “Who would've thought, you bend over on my desk begging me to fingering you. Everyone thought you hated me but in fact is quite the opposite. You’re just an attention whore” as Mingyu pronounces those degrading works, your velvety walls clamped even more on his fingers.  “Please Mingyu- more” moaning desiring more. Fuck he can't say no to you and inserted one more fingers making you whimper again. Mingyu being drunk on your moans start to rub his confined dick to your ass. More he added fingers the more you clench on it. “Let me prep you for my cock” He picked up the pace and start to massage hastily your walls creating a mess on his hand, leaking on the carpet of his office. “Fuck I'm about to cum”.

He retract his finger rapidly not wanting to climax now “Mingyu are fucking serious I was about to -“ He cut you off by plopping you on your back. Pushed his drench fingers by your nectar in your mouth tasting yourself. The sight that Mingyu had of you almost made him cum, your hazed eyes, your tits out and your pussy drenched. He desired to be the only person granted access to this filthy sight. “Let me eat your pussy” . You nods vividly and push your thigh apart. “So obedient” he coos at you while  he pushes your knees against your chest. The way your pussy was drooling on the desk makes him wanting to devour you even more. He start to flick your clit between his fingers.

“Mingyu-ah please don't tease” “Sorry baby” him growing soft for you as he approaches his mouth to your puffy pussy lips. The first time his lick make him realize that he can't get enough of your taste. He start flicking your clit with his tongue which make you squirm. He firmly locked your plush thighs with each of his hands to not letting you move. “Fuck… Gyu..” he start to lock his gaze into yours which makes you even more excited. Your fingers start to lock itself on his long dark hair, tugging them softly. He hums on your pussy creating more vibrations. You let a muffled scream surprised by his action. “Not too loud, they might hear us” slapping your inner thighs, his chin was completely wet of your juices mix with his saliva. He dived back again, eating with all of his willpower making you want to cry even more. Your climax approach faster than before as you felt wave of pleasure in your lower stomach. The slurping noise were too dirty to be heard in this professional location.

But you don't even care, too lost in how Mingyu's tongue was feasting on your pussy. “Mingyu keep going please” you cried. Motivated by your beautiful voice he start to give you even more pleasure. You close your eyes feeling the wave of your orgasm taking your body as your legs start to shake and your vision start to become white. He continued until the last drop. Too pussy drunk, Mingyu was still eating you out addicted to your sweet taste but you were starting too feel the overstimulation coming. You hands on his black strands started to pull him away from your pussy but he had too much strength so he didn't move an inch. Only giving you a devilish grin. The fact that you were half naked expoed to him and him still fully clothed made you even more vulnerable.

Your eyes start to tear up and pleading him stop but he kept going, entering his hot tongue in your hole. No one ever ate you out that way in your entire life. Feeling your heartbeat in your cunt start to accelerate.Your body start to heat up even more creating a small layer of sweat. Suddenly you felt a second wave of orgasm coming out as you push his face even more further into you trying to ride your orgasm. Mouth completely agape, no sound coming from you mouth as feel the wave throughout your body.

Finally he stop as you try to catch your breath. He gave open kisses in your inner thigh as he comes up at your level with half of his face completely covered of mix of your cum and his saliva. He reached out for your face, as you kiss him in a more tender way. Tasting the mixture in his mouth made the experiment even more intimate. If he eat pussy like this you might start falling in love with him. “Your pussy’s taste is fucking addictive” you smirked at him as he helps you to get down from the desk still holding you close to his body. You pushed him to let him set on his chair as you get down on you knees, your eyes filled with greed.

Wanting to feel his cock your start to unbuckle his belt as Mingyu smirks arrogantly and says, "Having trouble there, sweetheart?" Ignoring his arrogant remark. He's still wearing that smug expression, you manage to unbuckle his belt, maintaining your confident demeanor. Mingyu, still trying to assert his dominance, smirks and says, "You really think you can handle someone like me?" Your eyes meet his, and with a subtle laugh, you reply, "Oh, I can handle more than you think, Mr. Kim." you told him playfully using his formal title.

As you proceed, the tension between you two escalates. Mingyu, caught off guard by your boldness, finds himself in uncharted territory. The power dynamic shifts, and for the first time, he's met with someone who not only matches his arrogance but exceeds it. The air thickens with anticipation

As you take out his cock you were quite surprised  by the size of it. When you felt him a few minutes ago you thought he was big big but this is fucking huge. Everything is big on him, his body, his muscles, his fucking ego and of course his fucking cock. Fuck, maybe you were too cocky. It rest hot and heavy on both of your palm. The tip was already smeared of his precum. He's definitely the biggest you ever seen. As he ravished you just a few moments you wanted to do the same to him. As you take his tip on his mouth while your hands occupied the rest of his shaft. Your start to taste his salty precum. You start to jerking him off while looking at him . One of his hand behind his head while the other on top of your head. You can't help to think that's he's even more sexy like that. Determined to make him flinch. You spit on his cock to create more lube to help you take him. You wrapped your smudged lips around him trying to take as much as you can. Bobbing your head up and down trying to find a good tempo. You graze with your tongue the underside of his cock and give extra attention to the veins on that part of his cock. "fuck" he stuttered applying more pressure on the back of your head.

Even in his most dirty dream, Mingyu has never imagined this would happens. Your round tits out of your dress, mouth full of his cock while your hands are jerking the rest off. He's trying his best to not emptying himself right now in your mouth. As you try to take him as much you can, you gagged on him when you felt his tip caressing the back of your throat. Making him groan at the sound. "You look even better with my cock deep down in your throat" 

His words made your thighs rub's together. Your eyes started to cry due to the lack of oxygen, you force yourself to breath with your nose and continue your ministration on the handsome man. You mouth let go of his dick, needed to breathe. Still managing to massage his length with your hands. He take his dick with his hand and start to smear the wetness of precum on your lips. Suddenly you felt his heavy dick slapping on you right cheek indicates you to open your mouth. You opened your mouth while poking your tongue out making him smirk at your action.

He start to slap the tip of his cock on your tongue. One of you hands were playing with your folds. Abruptly he forces his dick down your throat making you gag on him. You love being full of my cock don't you?" you hums approving what he said as you look at his eyes filled with lust. "Cute " he muttered thinking you didn't hear him. He’s even more handsome like that you didn't know it was possible. As you continue to close your throat around him, you start to massage his balls to help him finish faster. He groans as he places his both hands on your neck accelerating his hips movements. Feeling the tears coming down your cheeks.

Both of your hands steadying yourself on his legs. He continue until he released a deep groan. As you felt his hot salty cum in your mouths, he said to you "you better swallow everything, you've already made a mess on my carpet" locking his hands on your neck and jaw. Most of his cum we're already down you throat but a little bit tried to spill out of your mouth. Resulting, Mingyu’s finger collecting his cum from your chin to put it back in your mouth. "filthy slut"

Grabbing you by your waist , he manhandled you back into his desk. He plopped you to your stomach as he bend you over by pushing you back even more into the wood surface. His cold fingers run to your side until your ass, he spread your ass cheeks with his hands. "You're so fucking wet" "I'm gonna take you like that cuz I don't think you'll be able taking me in missionary" he said knowingly that your ass will hide a few inches of his dick. Try to remain as confident as possible. " I can take you in missionary, Mingyu" he smirked while giving his dick a few stroke, poking his tip to you clit making you shudder. "mmh, we'll see about that"

His align himself your entrance, entering only his tip making you moan. He suddenly grab you hair and start to spit next to you "You better be quiet or I stop" you nod, too scared to not cum on his thick dick. He continue to enter you, feeling the stretch burn your tears welled up. Your tight pussy was bullied by his girth. Not wanting to make any noise you start to bite on your arm. "Fuck, relax a bit. You're squeezing me" he said massaging your hips. Mingyu felt your raw velvety walls pulsating around his dick and sensed a suffocating pressure. He kept massaging your lower back and ass helping to relax so he can penetrate even more. If he don't start to move he think he'll cum right away. "Gyu... more" as you start to beg him while moving in your hips. "you're tight as fuuccckk" He's now deep down in your guts and you can't think anymore. The only thing in your mind is his big cock. "I thought I prepped you well but you're sucking the life out of me" you felt his dick throbbing in you as you keep begging for more and more. Too lost in your own pleasure. He began to quicken the pace while groping your hips and ass. Your frustration grew as you longed to see his face and feel him beneath your touch. "Want to touch you ...Gyu…" you start to utter between the moans. The sounds you made were utterly pornographic that almost made him cum. Taking his dick smeared of your juices out of your pussy. He flipped you, being on your back. Your arms locked around his neck as your lips finally collide. Struggling with the button of his shirt, you desire to feel him even closer, you start to taking off his tie. As you grapple with the fabric, he laughs softly against your lips, eliciting a smile from you like a teenage girl. The warning echoes in your mind not to fall for him, but the soft kiss on your right cheek makes it challenging. He rises from your body, and you instruct, "Be fast; I need you right now."

As Mingyu swiftly removes his shirt, you scan him, absorbing the sight of his body. The defined, tan muscles of his upper body come into your eyes— from his broad shoulders to his well-defined chest, the subtle ridges of abdominal muscles hinting at his underlying strength. The play of shadows emphasizes every contour, making the scene more captivating. Your gaze lingers, captivated by the visual spectacle he presents. You can't help to play with yourself in front of this sight. "You're making me so wet Mingyu" " I know baby, come here" saying this while taking both of your legs on his shoulder. You grab him by the neck as you kiss him again, finally feeling the warmth that he radiates from his body to your epidermis. His hand on your neck while the other align his dick to your entrance. " Tell me if it hurts too much sweetheart" Suddenly, everything becomes more intimate, and you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as he treats you with care, his every touch deliberate and gentle.

He enters your pussy making you hiss at the intrusion. "Fuck, you feel even more bigger" trying to grip yourself to his bulging biceps and your nails start to dig on his back. "I told you" as he start to quicken his pace. You moan start to get louder as the rhythm starts to become faster. He squeezed enough your throat to reduced your airflow making you feel even more delirious about all the sensations. It also helps to reduce your moan, which was a miracle nobody interrupted you yet. His mouth kept worshipping the rest of your body and whispering filthy words in your neck. Knowing that you'll not last longer you told him as he acknowledge it, he rubs your clit rigorously helping to reach your climax faster. He can't help himself to stare at where you're both connected to see a white ring of your cum around his cock that makes him whine. His hips start to become more sloppy as your walls clamped down on his cock. You kept chanting his name, your mind completely bathed in lust. Nails ripping off harder his back and his biceps. Him enjoying the small pain that you inflict on his skin. Feeling climax coming "Yes — fuck, I'm coming, I fucking love your dick mingyu" completely ecstatic on his dick while you felt tears coming down in your cheeks. He kissed away the tears while his hips are sloppier than ever, feeling his dick twitched inside you follow with the sensation a hot semen filling you up to the brim. His cum starting to ooze out of your pussy while he take his dick out of you, creating even more mess between your legs and the carpet underneath both of you.

He kissed you softly as he said " you're my slut now"

————————————————————————

Taglist: @ishireads @asyre @thepoopdokyeomtouched @mansaaay

[lunarticxenia]

Astrology Observations #4

Hellooooo I’m back!!!!!

TW: SA mention, Ab*se mention

🌬Gemini suns are the epitome of golden retriever energy. 

🌬I’ve noticed a lot of people in the psychology field or with psych degrees tend to have Cancer and/or Virgo placements in their big 6. Either that or strong 4th and 6th house energy. Makes a lot of sense. 4th house= emotions. 6th house= service for others.

🌬Cancer suns are underrated for being leaders, I’ve had so many bosses and higher-ups who have been Cancer suns. 

🌬I’ve noticed that homewreckers tend to have a lot of fire/water dominance in their charts, which I think is due to their passion ruling their decisions. I’ve noticed this with cheaters as well. I also think with water placements it comes from insecurity.

🌬Cancer sun women are underrated in terms of sex appeal. My mom said the same thing too so it’s not just me tooting my own horn. Let’s think of some popular Cancer sun celebrities- Pam Anderson, Ariana Grande, Lana Del Rey, Sofia Vergara, Selena Gomez. All have sex appeal and have been sexualized a lot. Cancer sun women do get sexualized a lot. I’m realizing this as I type it. I only notice this in women though, sorry Cancer sun men LMAO. I’m a Cancer sun and I get sexualized for no gd reason.

🌬I’ve noticed that Taurus Venus and Taurus Mars people tend to go for more curvier/voluptuous women. 

🌬Peak Aries moon energy is losing interest in someone because they’re not giving you enough attention. 

🌬I feel like Cancer suns care a lot about politics and this quality is often overlooked. 

🌬I feel like Taurus rising women+ feminine presenting people have like the ultra divine feminine energy. I think it’s because Venus rules their chart, but a lot of Taurus risings I’ve noticed are VERY feminine or have feminine qualities.

🌬Taurus risings and Sagittarius risings tend to be thick LMAO or at least very curvy.

🌬Not really an observation but other aspects in your chart can be very powerful and overshadow qualities you’re “supposed” to have. For example I have two friends who are Aries suns with Libra moons with earth rising, and they are so different. I will say both do have feminine qualities though, like personality wise and physically. Other than that though they’re very different, one is the stereotypical Aries and the other is more like a Pisces.

🌬Idk what’s been going on but I feel like I’ve been encountering so many Libra suns with Sagittarius moons. I don’t know if that’s a common combo, but I’ve been coming across a lot of them lately. (I also work with one). I’ve noticed the men with these aspects are such fuckboys, the women usually aren’t, but the men? Oof.

🌬I’ve noticed a lot of people with Bipolar disorder or BPD tend to have harsh aspects between their sun and moon. I think it’s because those are the two most personal parts of our charts and having them clash can create conflict within.

🌬I feel like a lot of prominent Sagittarius placements get tattoos or wanna get tattoos. P much every Sag placement I’ve known has tattoos or wants to get them. 

🌬Libra sun women have nice asses. I SAID IT OKAY. Even if it’s not big it’s a nice shape.

🌬Libra Mars and Cancer Mars tend to have stomach issues, I feel like it’s because we bottle up our anger and it affects our bodies 😂

🌬️I feel like people with their Venus and Mars in the same sign can balance their masculine and feminine energy very well.

🌬️One Virgo placement in the big three can really make someone so anal retentive which ironic bc Virgo rules the bowels… 👀👀👀👀 Even if they’re not like that about cleaning, some aspect in their life they’re very obsessive over… however I do notice it’s cleaning for many. I live with two Virgo risings and I get screamed at for leaving a fork in the sink, y’all scare me…

🌬️Going off of that, Cancer and Libra placements get a lot of crap for being passive aggressive, but y’all need to include Virgos in there. They are so passive aggressive it’s not even funny 😂

🌬️Asteroid Medusa (149) harsh aspects to personal planets can indicate s*xual assault.

🌬️I stg 12th house synastry is so fucking hard, I feel like I see this a lot in relationships that couldn’t get off the ground or where one person is obsessed with the other. I think that makes sense since the 12th house deals with illusions, unclarity, etc. It’s such a deep connection too, when it works it works but when it doesn’t, it really hurts.

🌬️The house that your Midheaven ruling planet falls into can tell you a lot about your career. My midheaven is Virgo which makes the ruler Mercury, and my Mercury falls in my 8th house. This house deals with a lot of taboo and intensity, which makes sense because I work on an inpatient psychiatric unit. I also want to be a psychologist. So there ya go lol.

🌬️Nessus in the 1st/aspects to the 1st can indicate ab*se in the native’s life, whether it’s giving or receiving. It’s very heavy energy. It can also indicate being into some freaky ass shit in the bedroom, alot of adult actors have this in their chart. 

🌬️Going off of that, Nessus aspects in a positive manner can make someone who wants to help victims of ab*se, whether they’ve been ab*sed or not themselves.

🌬️If a person has both Nessus and Dejanira in their chart, they may have been a victim of ab*se and maybe ab*sive towards others. With this played out in a more positive manner, it can make someone who was a victim of ab*se want to help other victims. ^^^

🌬️Mutable risings really are chameleons when it comes to their appearance. They can manage to make themselves look like completely different people, i.e. Lady Gaga, Kim Kardashian.

🌬️Algol 26° Taurus aspects to NN can make an individual very stoic and able to handle chaos & negative situations well. 

🌬️Prominent Virgo/Mercury placements tend to pick at their skin and enjoy things like popping pimples and stuff lol. 

🌬️Asteroids Messalina (545), Swindle (8690), Sirene (1009), Tantalus (2102), and Lie (26955) aspecting Mercury and/or in the 3rd house can indicate someone who’s very good at lying and manipulating others. 

🌬️Asteroid Sappho (80) in women/feminine people and Asteroid Ganymed (1036) in men/masculine people having harsh aspects to NN or personal planets can indicate LGBT+ people who heavily struggle with figuring out their sexuality (more so than usual lol). 

🌬️I have Asteroid Achilles (588) conjunct my North Node, and that’s the asteroid of where we’re most vulnerable and where our weaknesses are. I feel like that makes sense for me... lol. I tend to let other people tell me how to live my life, and struggle with making decisions for myself. I also have it in the 8th and I tend to struggle with my sexuality. (Kind of a part 2 to the previous bullet?) I also have it in Cancer and I have mommy issues LMAO. I guess this one’s more of a self observation...

I know this isn’t a crazy long post but it feels good to be back lol!

[sincerlycas]

pretty lady.

summary: a connie drabble where he has to deal with dating the most prettiest girl.

warnings: mature scenes, slight smut, etc.

commission for: @tojisblondebimbo

don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

connie loved you with his hearts content, he loved when you would come up to him squealing because you got a new dress, he loved the way how tight the dress clunged to your body leaving no where for imagination. your ass pocking out the bottom of the dress when you would bend over showing your lacy thong clinging to your mound so tightly.

connie loved the fact you were so damn pretty, you were hard headed and stubborn, but soft and poise. he loved how sometimes your beauty could get you anything. for example, you forgot your purse in the house so you turn to look at connie while pointing at the Chanel bag “pa pleaseee I’ll pay you back!!” shaking his head he agreed to buy it knowing damn well you won’t pay him back. but he knew something was up when you seemed to forget your wallet multiple times. what can you say, why would you spend your own money when your man is right there?

but you being pretty can also cause problems. the amount of times he had to beat niggas asses left and right because they couldn’t keep their hands off you. sometimes he wished you wore a plastic bag over your head when going out. he wished your dresses weren’t so mesh and tight on you showing everyone a preview of what’s up under there. but it’s not really his baby’s fault that she’s so pretty so all he can do is grunt about it and move along while rubbing onto your ass any chance he can.

the times he really loved though was being between your legs sucking with his hearts content. looking up momentarily seeing your bambi watery eyes staring right back at him, your plump lips letting out the softest whines possible. slurping sounds filling the room as you rock back against his face trying to catch your nut. connie’s tongue did wonders that sometimes you had to deprive him from the pussy. like one time he wanted to fuck while you guys were at a family gathering and cupped your pussy with his hand after slipping it through the slit of the skirt “connie !!” “whatt? let’s go in my old room hm?”

your hair messy and all over the place, makeup and lip combo smeared, legs kicking around everywhere, toes curling, back arching off the bed “you taste so good mama~ how come you won’t sit on my face forever huh~? don’t that sound like a good idea pretty lady~?” slapping the side of your thighs with pinching your overstimulated clit. “what you think mama~? tell ‘pa’ what you thinking in the pretty little head of yours~” biting your lip you grabbed his hand making him hover over you. watching your plum lips connie heard “you won’t be able to handle it pa~” did I forget to tell you he loved that slick mouth?

he couldn’t leave you alone even if he tried. you were a little bit toxic. everytime he went to do a deal you would latch onto him telling him if he left you in the house alone for an hour max you would leave. of course knew you were bluffing but he still sighed a stayed with you a while longer knowing if he you guys broke up, you’d find a nigga the same day. ouuu he was just like the song area codes by kali, that one line that said “matter of fact, scratch that imma send you a stack just cuz you fine as hell” and bitch that nigga hand you two racks!! while saying “give me a show and I’ll add an extra hermosa” who were you to decline the offer?

overall being connie’s pretty girl had many perks it’s a 10/10 experience <3

[spookitapes]

Hello, i love your fics! Im a bit embarassed but i had an idea earlier today. Imagine beig on a relationship with Ted while hes a trip visiting every margaritaville or rain forest, whatever you prefer and you miss him a lot so when you can finally go visit him on the trip he shows you how much he missed you by fucking you so good you barely walk the next day. Okay thats all, thank you bye!

a/n: oh my gosh don't be embarrassed! pls send me more stuff I love it !!! and thank you so much for the support< 33 it's mainly RFC buuuut i did a little bonus of margaitaville ft. schlatt at the end :))) sorry it took me a minute to see this in my inbox!! but I hope you enjoy it bc this was actually super fun to write !!

!! 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI !!

surprising ted on his rainforest cafe roadtrip hc's

❧ getting the trip schedule from eddy so you can pick which days works best for you

❧ planning it weeks before they even leave

❧ ted having literally no clue what’s happening

❧ stuffing his face with safari fries when he hears an all too familiar “teddy!” coming from behind him

❧ thinking he’s finally going crazy bc why is he imagining your voice amongst the animatronic themed restaurant's ambiance ??

❧ almost tackling him out of his chair when you finally reach him bc you didn’t realize you were full-on sprinting in the rainforest cafe

❧ a very sweet reunion that takes ted entirely by surprise

❧ (don't worry eddy gets a good angle) it's some nice behind-the-scenes footage for you two :))

❧ “jesus christ honey i didn’t know you’re that strong!”

❧ ted laying his head on your shoulder anytime he can

❧ sharing a sparkling volcano for the memory of it

❧ getting back to the hotel and making out in the elevator on the way to the room you booked

❧ him immediately pinning you to the door when it closes

❧ he's missed you so much

❧ missed your body so much

❧ he'd been having to take cold showers

❧ and that worked until he found the nude polaroids you had left him in his luggage

❧ he's been reduced to jerking off, switching to hot steam instead of a standing ice bath

❧ so you can't really blame him for taking you right there

❧ stripping you of only what's necessary

❧ if your wearing jeans? gone. pants of any kind? bye bye. shorts? across the room...but a dress or a skirt? he's just pushing it up your hips

❧ pulling your panties to the side (if you're wearing any op-)

❧ hiking one of your legs up onto his hip as he barely gets his cock out of his pants before pushing into you

❧ both of you letting out a gasp as he bottoms out

❧ him holding your hand against the door with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other

❧ eventually bringing your leg around his hip up over his shoulder so he can hit deeper

❧ him fucking you so rough the do not disturb sign's swinging on the other side of the door

❧ once you both cum he'll carry you over to the bed so he can finish stripping you

❧ slowly peeling the clothes away as he kisses your skin that appears

❧ him pushing your face into the sheets to muffle the porn star level moans leaving your mouth

❧ "god baby, you're gonna get us kicked out if you keep screaming like that."

❧ but how can you stay quiet when he's balls deep drilling you from the back giving you the best dick of your life ??

❧ him getting fed up so he puts one of his big ass hands over your mouth as he fucks you harder

❧ just the sounds of skin on skin slapping, ted's groans, and your muffled sobs fill the room

❧ going at least three more rounds before he's carrying you to the bathtub to clean you up

❧ begging him to get in with you and getting him to after pulling out the big eyes and jutted out bottom lip combo

❧ scooting up so he can slide in behind you

❧ just holding each other in the warm bubbley water

❧ "i love you so much baby, remind me to never go on a trip without you again."

❧ it's followed with a tender kiss on your forehead

❧ you pause a moment before shifting your head so you can catch his eyes, a smile overtaking your features

❧ he thinks you're gonna say something sappy, something that'll probably make you tear up

❧ "you can go on as many trips as you want if that's how you're gonna fuck me."

❧ he splashes you with the bath water...

❧ the next day he's calling you to hurry up and get ready, something about needing to be back on the road

❧ he gets met with a long, loud, angry groan in return

❧ "uuhhhh honey, you alright?"

❧ him being met with your pouty face looking up from the mound of pillow you had it buried in

"i don't wanna talk to you. you did this to me!"

❧ he's about to question you before you throw your legs off the side and go to stand...only to go tumbling over before ted leaps across the room to save you

❧"your hero," he's smirking down at you, hands around your back and hip as you dangle mid-air

❧ "...more like my murderer." you murmur it out

❧ "oh and who exactly did i kill? you look alive to me."

❧ "MY WHOLE LOWER BODY YOU BIGDICK ASSHOLE!"

(bonus)

you two definitely fuck at jschlatt's during margaritaville

❧ setting it up with schlatt bc you promise him a gift (WINK)

❧ you jump out and surprise them when they get to schlat't's place

❧ him almost tackling you this time

❧ "i fuckin' told ya! HA mother fucker now you owe me $50!" schlatt's laughing maniacally as usual

❧ ted fucking you in front of schlatt as a thank you for the surprise

❧ "this is way fuckin' better than on facetime." (read my other work to get the refrenceeeee)

❧ making you ride him as schlatt records it on ted's phone

❧ reverse cowgirl to get good angles of your pretty face and so ted can watch your greedy hole swallow up his big cock

❧ schlatt shoving the camera in your face when you start getting sloppy, thighs burning from riding your lover for so long

❧ "go on and look at me, angel," he's using his free hand to grip your throat to look at him but your eyes are still closed

❧ ted's interrupting him for a second, "do ya wanna cum? keep on bouncin' then. I'll rub your slutty lil clit if you keep takin' my dick so good."

❧ "be a good little bitch and smile for the camera—thaaaaat's it, honey."

[frenchkisstheabyss]

୨୧ ｓｔｒａｗｂｅｒｒｙ ｊｕｌｉｕｓ ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x chubby!fem!reader x boyfriend!namjoon

୨୧ Genre: fluff, smut, rocker au/crime au combo

୨୧ Summary: The night of an event you've been stressing out about for weeks, you find stress relief in an unexpected but welcome place.

୨୧ Word Count: 2.4k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: unprotected sex, double penetration, double creampie, anal, light choking, dirty talk, pet names, strong language (I can be a potty mouth, sry), pet names (love, baby), dom vibes if you squint, & that's all I think.

୨୧ A/N: I really wanted to mix two of my favorite au's with two of my favorite people so here we are. There's definitely gonna be a part two because my brain won't shut up about this. Anyway, I hope you like it my loves 🖤

Punk music blares from the speakers in your living room, the distorted strumming of guitars and brutal drumming enough to shake the walls of your two story home. Playing your music as loud as you want whenever you want. One of the few perks that come with living on the edge of the city where your nearest neighbor's an elderly woman a mile down the road who never uses her hearing aid.

A hearing aid. You’ll need one any day now if you keep this up but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re having the time of your life fresh out of the shower, dancing around in your towel while you tear your closet apart to find an outfit for the party tonight. Everything has to be perfect. Your hair. Your outfit. Your makeup. Jungkook says you’re perfect already. That everything else is just decoration.

With all the effort he put into getting your band invited to this party, your “decoration” needs to be more memorable than ever. Everyone who’s anyone on the punk scene will be there tonight. From journalists to producers to some of the women who inspired you to start a band to begin with. The pressure to make a lasting impression is insane and the precise reason you’re running on 4 hours of sleep right now. You’ve been moving non-stop since this morning, trying to outrun your doubts and insecurities.

“Love, slow down. Let me help you” Jungkook whispered in those moments he caught you burning yourself out. You don't know what you'd do without the sweetheart that he is. Digging through your top drawer you pull out a pair of fishnets, the ones he can't get enough of, and you're instantly reminded of the other side of him. Thoughts of all the filthy things you’ve done in these fishnets bring a tingle to your cheeks that spreads between your thighs like wildfire. 

“Not tonight” you say to yourself, tossing them back in, “I’ll never be able to focus.” Shaking off vivid memories of being fucked against the questionably clean mirror of a dive bar last weekend, you continue to raid your closet, carelessly making a mess that’ll be a problem for future you to deal with.

“Baby!” Jungkook shouts, stepping through the front door twirling his keys around his fingers. His heavy black combat boots hit the hardwood like the steps of a giant as he marches over to the speaker and turns the music down. “Baby! Where are you?” There’s an adorable pitter patter of feet from above before your voice sounds from the top of the stairs. “I’m here! Get everything you needed from the store?” 

His brain glitches. The store? Oh, yeah. That lie he told you about needing to run to the store for something. You never pressed him for specifics. A testament to the level of trust you have in him. Trust that hopefully won’t be shattered by the fact that he lied his ass off. He cuts his eyes at the tall man looming by the door, knowing that his presence is the only thing that’ll redeem him. 

“Uh, yeah, I did” he lies, appearing at the bottom of the stairs, “Could you come here for a second?” Without bothering to answer, you skip down the stairs, only hitting the second to last step before he has his arms around your plush figure. The towel bunches up around your waist, raising your towel just enough to allow your ass to poke out the bottom. He can’t resist brushing his fingers along the softness of your ass.

A move that reignites that tingling you felt earlier and has your lips latching onto his before he can say another word. Jungkook dives right in, shoving his hands beneath your towel to hungrily grip handfuls of your curves. There’s no time for this but he’ll make it. He has to. Something about you drowns out his reason. He’d postpone his own funeral if it meant he got to touch you one last time. 

“Does everyone who comes over get to watch or am I just special?” Namjoon teases, slamming the front door shut. Jungkook’s stomach sinks, suddenly remembering what he’d actually left the house to pick up. Yours sinks even lower. That voice. It hasn’t lived within these walls for years. Jungkook steps back, waving Joon over. “I, uh, got something extra from the store.” 

A half dozen emotions brew inside of you, none of them identifiable. You only know that your feet are glued to the ground. That your mouth is drier than it's ever been and your heart’s beating in your throat. Joon approaches you, his arms outstretched to welcome you into a hug. When you don’t budge, your pouty bottom lip the only part of you able to move, he pulls you into his arms anyway.

The strength of his hug, the love laced within it, heals something inside of you that has your vision going hazy with tears. Lifting you from the stairs, Joon brings you between him and Jungkook. They hug you from both sides the way they used to before Joon went away. 4 years in prison. Light work for washing dirty money but an eternity for your close knit trio. You haven’t laid eyes on him since that last day in court.

He’d only let Jungkook come visit, insisting that you shouldn’t be in a place like that. You lost count of the hours you spent in tears hating him for keeping you away but loving him too much for the feeling to ever stick. Your Joon didn’t belong locked away with killers and god knows who else. Everything he did, everything you did together, was to survive. He'd never hurt anyone and knowing he might be surrounded by people who would made being kept at a distance sting that much more.

There was no way you and Jungkook would’ve survived without each other. Him losing his best friend and you losing one of your loves. No matter how far your careers advanced, how nice this house was, or how much money you had tucked under the floorboards in the attic, nothing could change how incomplete you feel. How incomplete you felt.

“Ouch!” Joon cries, jumping when you pinch his side, “What was that for?” “What the fuck are you doing here?” you shout, wiping the tears from your eyes. Joon just laughs, “I still live here don’t I?” “Duh, you idiot! But you’re not supposed to—your release is months away—I thought—” You turn to Jungkook who grabs your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours before you pinch him too.

“Early release. I was gonna tell you, I just thought it’d be a fun surprise. Plus you were so freaked out about tonight. I just didn’t wanna psych you out. You mad at me?” Jungkook pouts, those brown puppy dog eyes pulling you in like they always do. “I’m not mad” you huff, rolling your eyes while leaning in to let him peck you on the cheek. Joon kisses you on the neck from behind, his large smooth hands massaging your tense shoulders.

You reach back, running your palm across his buzz cut hair, “I like the new hair. It’s kinda hot.” “Only kinda?” he asks, nipping at your neck, revenge for that pinch earlier. His hands slide down, patiently rounding your curves to reach your exposed thighs. “Stop” you giggle, a chill running up your spine, “I have to get ready.” Jungkook pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time. “We can always help you get ready” he grins, pushing his knee between your thighs to make enough space for Joon to run two fingers over your slit.

“It’s so wet down there” Joon hums, “Is that just from the shower or—.” Twisting free, you rush back up the stairs, stopping halfway up to glance back at them. “I still need to do my hair.” Jungkook shrugs, taking two steps toward you, “I’m pretty good with hair.” You swallow hard, wiping your sweaty palms on your towel. “And…and my makeup.” Joon tilts his head to see you better, “I can do that.”

Why are they like this? So annoyingly persistent. It’s not like you don’t want it. The thought had crossed your mind to have a quickie with Jungkook when you were standing in your bedroom zoning out with those fishnets in your hand. With Joon back you find yourself wanting it even more. Those feelings that overcame you are much clearer now. Passion. Love. Lust. Joy. All fighting for dominance and right now one in particular’s winning.

Look at them. They’re both so fucking handsome. And the closer they get the harder it is to ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in. “Just a kiss” it whispers as Jungkook catches up to you, his lips dangerously close to yours. You close your eyes as your lips meet, his tongue snaking against yours. One kiss. Just one.

Joon dreamt of being with you like this again. Him lying across the bed, pillows beneath him to keep him at the perfect angle to lower you into his lap. Fingers digging into the plush of your hips, he guides his length, coated in lube from base to tip, to that gorgeous ass he got a few nibbles of when you first took your towel off. “Joon…ah” you gasp, biting down on your bottom lip as the warm tip penetrates your tight hole.

Anal was never Jungkook’s thing. Seeing those cute heart shaped butt plugs you liked to wear when he had you bent over was the extent of his interest. Joon on the other hand had always been insatiable and time hasn’t changed that. “Fuck, still so tight for me” he groans out in pleasure, the tightness of your ass choking his dick the deeper he goes.

When he finally bottoms out, you fall back onto his bare chest moaning weakly, drool already leaking from the corners of your mouth. Earlier your body wouldn't even move. Now you can’t stop it from trembling, the fullness overwhelming you enough to turn your brain to soup.  Joon locks an arm around your waist, the other coming around so he can palm your breast. 

“Missed you” he whispers, rocking beneath you at a pace slow enough for his and your sanity. Your hand skims his forearm, nails digging in when he does a slight bounce to mess with you. He’s definitely put on some weight while he was away. Whatever they were feeding him, whatever weights he was lifting, you approve because he’s stronger than you ever knew him to be and you’re loving it.

“You sure you can take both of us?” Jungkook taunts, shifting his weight on the bed to hover between your legs. He places a hand on your knee, dipping two fingers into your core. He's achingly hard, twitching, leaking precum on the blankets at the sight of how wet you are. Your pussy glistens so beautifully, your walls clenching around his fingers while Joon fucks your other hole. Jungkook awaits your answer but he’s only met with your needy moans and cries.

“You have to say something, baby” he says, his thumb strumming your clit, “Tell me what you want.” The hand on your knee comes around your neck, his hold on you firm yet gentle. Joon slows his movements, offering you a second—and only that—to get your thoughts together. “Come on, you can do it. Tell us what you want.” Jungkook’s fingers are still working inside of you, mercilessly milking your g-spot.

“I…I can take it” you whine, forcing the words from your throat, “Fill me up. Please. Want it so bad. So bad.” “That’s my girl” Jungkook smiles, popping his fingers out of you. You watch as he strokes himself, using your arousal as lubricant. Joon’s hips begin to move again, leaving you pulsing in two places at once. Your clit stiffens as Jungkook rubs his tip between the silken folds of your warmth, sinking into you without warning. 

They take turns thrusting into you, one then the other, making sure you feel every arch and defining vein along their shafts. This perfect dance of pleasure and overstimulation has you crying out, tears leaking from watery eyes. Incoherent moans flow out into the ether and it’s not just you, it's them too. You can’t get enough of it, rotating your hips as best you can to pull the dirtiest noises out of them. Joon pulls your head back to kiss you and the moment you break for air Jungkook’s kissing you too, suspending you in a constant state of breathlessness. 

You’ve forgotten all about the party, your worries reduced to nothing by the ecstasy of this unexpected reunion. There’s nowhere else you want to be but here between the men you love, tension winding in your belly. You whine something between Joon’s lips and they just know what it is. Letting go of your throat, Jungkook slips his hand between your waist and his, rubbing your clit to push you over the edge. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” you scream, ears ringing as juices stream from your core, making the sound of your bodies snapping together even sharper. 

You feel weightless, disembodied, floating above yourself, jerked back to reality only by the pressure of Joon coming inside of you. You hold his hand, pressing down onto him as you kiss him over your shoulder. At the same time you’re tugging at Jungkook’s hair, keeping him flush against you. “Harder” he begs, his thrusts growing sloppier the harder you pull. One final tug has him unraveling, another wave of warmth filling you just as the other fades away.

The energy in the room gradually comes down, heavy panting turning to light breaths as you cuddle beside each other, your sweat slicked bodies still tangled together. “Still need help with your hair?” Jungkook asks, lovingly petting your head. Joon peeks over to find you sleeping more peacefully than you have in years. He kisses you on the forehead, pulling the blanket over you. “I don’t think so.”

[kodamaghost00]

30 Lucifer Headcanons

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[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut

It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

Calls his partner “Angel” or “Love”. But will come up with outrageous names to annoy you too.

Makes his loved ones custom ducks. And he gets really nervous showing you the finished product.

“So uhhh… I made this one for you.” He said quite nervously as he gave you your duck. “Oh it’s lovely Lucifer… thank you so much.”.

He looked at you flabbergasted “Wait really?! You like it…?”. You just chuckled “Of course I do!”

You were there for him when Lilith left him. He was so down but you cheered him up.

When Lucifer and Alastor had their little sing session he was so happy that you sided with him and not that red deer guy.

He thinks it’s adorable that you get along with Charlie. He loves the way you care about her, and believe in her dreams.

Besides his “calm” personality he gets quite protective over time. When he notices you get hurt by something/someone he is immediately there you care for you.

He makes unhinged comments and jokes without even noticing that they’re out of place sometimes.

Ever since angel called him a “Short king” the term has stuck with him. He casually calls himself that as well.

He tries to learn more slang from the other residents and tries them out on you… “You serve *snaps fingers*… the outfit slaps ngl.” You just laughed your ass off due to his stiff voice and lack of feeling.

He enjoys basin and cooking a lot. He prefers to have you as a helper.

He’s a ambivert who’s pretty good at masking. Not many people notice when he’s exhausted.

Definitely a hopeless romantic. He WILL take you on a date with roses and jazz in the background. And if everything goes well he maybe even take you to his place?

He likes to get dominated but he also loves to dominate. Whatever you’re up to actually, he’ll just go along with it.

Groans overall but whimpers and whines when he’s close.

When you ride on top of him he digs his fingers into your sides and it gets firmer and stronger as he finishes.

He is definitely very weak in the way that he can’t hold in for long. You do one right move and he’s cumming fast.

He also enjoys bondage very much. He’d fuck you while you hand from the roof with a gag in your mouth. In combo with a blindfold? Seeing you drool? He finishes faster than you can say “Bow chika bow bow.”

GREAT IN AFTERCARE!!! He will spoil you with sweet words and cuddles. “You did so great love… thank you.”

He bathed with his rubber duck. His favorite is probably an apple themed one.

He also wears a little make-up. Like going out without a little eyeliner? Nuh uh.

He made his cane himself. The apple on top is exchangeable with a Rubber duck, skull and a snake. He’s making new ones as well.

He is already autistic coded with a special interest in ducks. But imagine he invented them. Like imagine he said ”Hey God… I have this little idea, do you think you can make it work?”

He gets nervous if you two make eye contact for too long. He’d laugh it off though saying it’s no big deal for him.

So so done with life sometimes he just drinks 3 black coffees in the span of 3 hours.

He easily gets distracted by literally anything and everything. Also procrastinates a lot.

He loves hugs from the back. And hugs in general make him feel so loved by you.

His love languages are Physical Touch and Acts of Service. You making him breakfast and cuddles afterwards? He’s straight up in love.

“You made this all for me love…? Wow that’s so amazing thank you so so much…” he gets stressed easily so seeing how much you care for him makes him tear up.

———————————————————

Thank you all so much for reading my silly headcanons [And also 20 followers]! I wanted to say “Loves Eskimo kisses” but I remembered he doesn’t rlly have a nose (πーπ). But yeah anyways… if you have requests don’t be shy and ask! I’d be happy to work on requests! Have a great day/night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

[pb-dot]

This latest Adventuring Party really drove home my favorite aspect of Brennan's DMing style. He genuinely loves seeing his players succeed, even against odds he considered to be nigh insurmountable.

Let's take the Last Stand as an example. Now, Brennan made no secret out of the Last Stand encounter being very hard, and for people who do not play D&D it may even seem like he overhyped it, but from a mechanics standpoint, the CR, functionally the difficulty rating of this battle royale was sky-high. Yeah, none of the Bad Kids went down, but that is entirely thanks to a combination of excellent strategic play from the Intrepid Heroes and some choice luck.

To mention some of the game changer moves, the Scatter spell really re-defined the battlefield more favorably for the Bad Kids, the disguise self was a value proposition because it split the flying monsters, which was the greatest threat to the proctor by far, in two, functionally halving the threat to the squishy normie, not to mention dealing with the mega-mosquitos in combo with Spirit Guardians. Those little flying bastards would have been such a pain in the ass if Fig didn't bug zapper them to kingdom come. And the bless. Dear god, the Bless saved so many asses in this encounter.

This isn't to say magic was the only thing that defined the battlefield. The single-target damage dealers did some truly astounding numbers and managed their attention and abilities shockingly well. Yeah, Gorgug crit like a madman, but he also tanked like three or four non-barb PCs worth of effective HP damage without going down even once. If he had failed his saves and gotten eaten by the Purple Worm things would have gotten nasty for him, but again, the touch of luck (and bless) saw him through.

So, this is all to say that this was an encounter meant to kick the players' ass. Not an unwinnable one, evidently, but this was supposed to be a considerably worse experience even without getting into the non dice-roll exam questions. And how does Brennan react when the Intrepid Heroes put their game face all the way on, get really smart with their level 1 spell slots, and dismantle the whole thing? He's overjoyed, he's cheering for his strange adventure children, and we're cheering with him because frankly it's rad as hell.

This illustrates one nuance I feel sometimes gets glossed over about the DM-player relationship. A lot of people have talked about how Junior Year is the "Revenge of Brennan" or what have you, and I feel that kind of misses the central appeal of DMing and Brennan's style in D20 in particular. Yes, Mr Mulligan enjoys playing the heel on occasion. It's good fun to play the personification of everything going wrong and the inherent shittiness of the world, but like the wrestler heels, all that wicked charisma is meant to do one thing, and that is build up the faces, or the players in this case.

Now, the ghost of Gary Gygax may come after me for this, but I firmly believe it's not the DMs job to kill the player characters, or even to inconvenience or torment them. A good DM's job is to make it seem like they're going to kill the player characters, as to provide an environment for the players to succeed, a challenge for them to overcome. It's all one big improv exercise (or kink scene if you prefer to view it that way), where the DM derives their (near)absolute authority over the world the PCs inhabit from the shared understanding that they're going to show the players a spectacular, if not on occasion harrowing, time.

This is Brennan's biggest strength as a DM I think. He genuinely wants to make a spectacular time for his friends, and he understands that to do that he must on occasion be the monster they oppose, and on occasion he must be their breathless cheerleader. On occasion, one imagines, he must also be both.

[takami-takami]

Like Idiots.

includes— hawks x reader. fluff. minors dni.

warnings— gn!reader. pining like idiots. keigo is a pain in the ass. the reader is worse. i had fun with this. <3

There is zero need for Keigo to make a confession when it comes to his crush. It would be entirely redundant to confess. 

Your sigh at the thought is palpable. It really is quite a shame.

Part of you yearns for that passionate drama of an ending, where in some novela-inspired twist of fate, your adoring knight is forced to spill his love at your feet. In your daydreams— the ones dreadfully reminiscent of some lovelorn teenager's— a faceless villain from fuck-all-nowhere nearly ends the life of his beloved hero partner.

And the words spill from his throat like his lovesick sobs, clutching you close to his chest while you do your best to pretend you're not biting back a smile at the attention. 

"I love you! I've always loved you," he'd cry. 

Or something like that. 

And you'd kiss, and sparks would fly, or whatever. 

End scene. 

You're not getting that confession, though. 

It figures your love life would turn out to be a comedy. Par for the course of your life, you suppose. 

Instead of a scrawled letter sealed with wax or a poem whispered under the imposing moonlight, your confession is written all over Keigo's face— well, not all over, exactly. Every centimeter of his face conceals his emotions meticulously, flawlessly.

Every portion of his face is perfectly practiced and impeccably controlled; except for two measly little points. 

You prod at your food again with your fork in hand, all frowns as you sit across from your work partner in a booth at the diner he likes to drag you to on your lunch breaks. 

And you stare uncomfortably into the most cartoonishly blown pupils you've ever seen.

"Um. Hawks?" 

"Yeah? What's up, chickadee," he asks sincerely before chomping down messily on a battered chicken drum, moaning and letting his eyes fall shut as he does with every meal— typically an obstacle for your focus, this accidentally whorish display is actually a welcome reprieve from your racing thoughts.

When his eyes flutter open once more, you're faced once again with black saucers and the sound of reckless chewing. His pupils are still dilated like a cat tripping balls on the dealer's finest catnip.

"Hawks, I really think I should tell you that—"

Your intervention is rudely interrupted by a waitress in a 50's style apron and folded paper hat combo, likely rushing over notepad in hand to get first dibs on serving a celebrity. 

You would prefer to be unfair. It'd be easier to displace your frustration for your lot in life onto this poor woman, to tell her that her hat looks stupid and pink isn't her color, that she should really just stop trying. 

You decide to be an adult. 

Keigo, on the other hand, does not. Like a child given free reign to order for himself at a restaurant for the first time, he explains that she should really heap on the sugar for his coffee.

"No, no, no. More than that. Like syrup. I want it to taste like it's gonna put me in an early grave and— wait, where are you going?"

The debacle brings to attention another phenomenon that you've grown accustomed to seeing:

The second his gaze meets her's, Keigo's pupils shrink to points once more, constricting to tight dots before bouncing back to their natural size. And predictably, once again, they expand like blown glass when you catch his attention.

"Hawks!"

"Yeah, what?"

His chewing ceases obnoxiously, chicken drum in his right hand and half-chewed remains in his left cheek.

You might as well rip it off like a bandaid. You let out a puff of air.

"Your eyes," you attempt to gently point out. 

"Mm?" Keigo's head tilts to the side, pondering your observation for a moment.

"My eyes? Ohh," he drags his words as if in realization, treating himself to another chomp into the drumstick. "You gettin' lost in them, huh? Happens, dove. You can stare, I don't mind."

"No!" You squeak out your denial before smoothing down your shirt and tipping your chin high. 

You have the upper hand here. Remember that.

"I mean," you correct your course, staring down and poking at your plate while a smile creeps up your lips. "It's kinda hard not to when your pupils look like they're gonna swallow your goddamn irises."

The silence that follows is deafening.

"Kei'?" You flick your gaze up toward him, worried now.

Under normal circumstances, it's an established habit for Keigo to slot one palm over his mouth when called out. 

But this time, that hand bypasses his lips, crawling upward to reach his visor and wordlessly drag it down over the source of his shame.

A stronger person than you would hold back their laughter. They would take pity on the flush rising over his cheeks and neck like sunsets. Perhaps they would coo praises to soothe him, or even take it all back to ease the shame and discomfort that makes him feel utterly naked. 

They would take pity on the man who, under the fluorescent high beams bolted to the diner's ceiling, looks just like a clown tripping on stage with the spotlight shined on his face.

You are not a strong person. 

In your hysterics, you reach over to pry the barrier off his eyes, climbing into his lap and over him like tussling teenagers. 

"Keigo, I didn't say it was a bad thing—"

"You're laughing," he laments like a kicked puppy, prying your face an arm's length from his with a single palm. 

It's over. This is it for him. His life is over, he's going to have to change his identity. 

He can start fresh with a new hero name, one not centered around red-tailed hawks— he'll need to rebrand as another bird, most likely. Preferably one with the same signature red feathers so as not to make a fuss for the merch department.

Maybe a parrot. 

Winged-Hero Parrots.

"You're laughing at me!" 

"I'm not laughing at—" another uncontrollable wheeze. His wings flap in indignance once, slamming against the cushions of the pink diner seat before drooping down like a dog's tail between its legs. You pluck the visor and raise it above your head out of arm's reach, one hand planted against his chest for stability.

"Not laughing at you! Baby, I promise—" 

"Baby?" He repeats.

The silence is worse the second time around— but luckily for you, Keigo is a stronger person than you are. No laughter erupts from his chest, no smirk settles on his face. 

If anything, your slip up seems to elevate his heart rate more than yours.

"We really should—"

"I think we need to—"

Both sentences collide in the small space between you, his lips completely still and mere inches away from yours. 

You're reminded of the feeling of your fingertips about to touch metal after being charged with static, the skin crackling with the air's tension as you contemplate whether to just get it over with and touch.

And slowly, as if suddenly cognizant of your bodies and environment, you both crawl off each other and scoot toward the furthest edges of the booth seat.

Your knees make their way toward your chest for comfort, while Keigo's wings drape over his shoulders like a cocoon. 

"We should talk."

[cerastes]

Are there any notable supporters you reccomend? I kinda ignore the class except for gnosis (and I do use scene and deep color in IS a bit) and I wonder if I'm actually sleeping on some fun units.

YOU CAME TO THE RIGHT NEIGHBORHOOD, MOTHER FUCKER, I LOVE SUPPORTERS.

Suzuran - 6* Decel Binder. The moral of Arknights is that children make excellent soldiers, and Suzuran proves this. Her two Talents are really good, as she serves as an incredibly potent SP accelerator for Supporters (+0.4 extra SP per second, so Supporters will charge 40% faster, herself included), and all enemies suffering from Slow (the actual status effect Slow, not the movement speed reduction effects one can find on Manticore or Chung the Hung, for example) in her range are also inflicted with 20% Fragile (so, they take 20% extra Phys, Arts and True damage from all sources). It doesn't have to be Slow inflicted by her, any Slow will do, so Angelina's S2 machinegun Slow will render an enemy vulnerable to an ass kicking quite effectively, as will Podenco's S2, and any source of Slow additional to Suzuran herself. S2 gives her an extra target on every attack, 2 extra targets with Masteries, alongside a minor Attack buff and, more importantly, infinite duration, meaning she can control more enemies at once and better prevent Slow Dilution (what I call when you Slow an enemy, then the next enemy passes them, making them the next target, and so on, diluting damage and clustering them; this isn't necessarily bad but it can be undesired depending on you strategy). Her spotlight stealer, however, is her S3, which expands her range, provides strong passive healing (so unhealables can be healed), doubles her Fragile Talent (40%), and Slows everything in range. Gnosis Fragile is bigger (50%) but he only maintains it in comparatively shorter bursts, Suzuran's S3 last 35 whopping seconds, and enemies that are Slow-immune are far fewer than Freeze-immune. This section is particularly big because, yeah, Suzuran just really does that much, she combos VERY well with other Supporters, can be slotted in any team, and just generally works, I'm not even a Suzuran fan, she's just that jacked.

Podenco - 4* Decel Binder, real name GODenco, also slots easily into any team, can switch to healing on her S1, or provide bursts of Silence, AoE Arts damage and Slow on good upkeep with her S2. She also provides a minor passive buff to other Supporters. If you need to Silence things, you think of the best Silencer, Lappland, but sometimes you need to Silence a LOT of things, enough that Lapp might get overwhelmed, well, that's when you use GODenco S2 and suddenly that entire cluster of 8 exploding spiders won't go boom no more. She's really good for Slow Dilution because of her single target into AoE skill, so she combos really good with AoE hitters like Artillerymen, Fortresses, Chain Casters, Qiu Bai S2, etc.

Shamare - 5* Hexer, a good execution support, as she applies 30% Fragile to enemies in range under 40% HP. Her main hat trick, however, is her S2, her signature Cursed Doll. At S2M3, the Cursed Doll, which you deploy on the field and it affects its tile and the 8 surrounding tiles, will provide an absolutely ungodly debuff of -50% ATK and DEF to all enemies in said range. One of the rare ATK% debuffs in the game, and in my opinion the best, it'll make even Gopnik hit like a wet noodle. What's more, since it's not an active skill, the moment you drop your Cursed Doll, Shamare will immediately begin charging the next one! With a charge of 30 and a doll timer of 15 seconds, her true charge time is 15 seconds. Basically, you can cycle 15 seconds of regular enemy stats and 15 seconds of halved enemy stats. This is legitimately insane. Since Shamare's stats are also unimportant, you can just leave her at E2Lv1 (unless you want her Module, which imo is not worth the lv2+ and I'd only get the lv1 if you really like her) so she can be a cheap and powerful investment.

U-Official - NUMERO UNO CAMPEAO DA PENTA

Quercus - 5* Abjurer. I'll keep it simple here: Her healing with Module is bonkers, and she provides Shelter (damage reduction%) to units in range above 70% HP, 60% with Module Lv3. S1 is her permanent Healer mode, toggable on a long cooldown, while S2 is her burst healing window skill, notable in that it provides SP to healed units throughout its duration. Quercus is sleeped upon, she's a REALLY strong Supporter that provides SP, healing and bulk.

Orchid - 3* Decel Binder. I include her here if you want to play Integrated Strategies, because she's always a good free pick there. She's the Slower that Slows.

Roberta - 4* Artificer. I include her here because my stream audience will disembowel me and chain my flayed corpse outside the Museum of Modern Arts if I don't, she's my meme unit. THOUGH, her Shield-providing, DEF enhancing tools can come in handy.

Valarqvin - 5* Ritualist. The IS4 free unit. Significantly stronger in IS4 due to built-in Necrosis Damage on autoattacks, but even outside of IS4, she can be useful for bursting or key enemy elimination with S2, as Necrosis is a strong effect with a built in, decaying ATK% debuff (again, rare) and unmitigated DoT (total of 12000 damage over 15 seconds, 800 dmg per second). Nothing so far in the game resists this, so go ham.

Angelina - 6* Decel Binder. Angelina's whole thing is that she's not a standout unit in any regard, but she can support practically every team, can so strong sustained damage and Slow against single targets with S2, strong multitarget Slow and reduced Weight for Shifting with S3, and passively increases party ASPD and gives them passive healing (works on unhealables). Angelina is kind of like a crowbar or a length of rope in that she's as useful as you can be creative with her, never as a stand out, but as a good brick in the overall house.

Ling - Limited 6* Summoner. Kind of an obligatory mention, but basically, God Mode. One of the gamebreakers, as she can produce 4-Block replenishable immensely powerful summons with multitarget equal to block, Arts damage, and damaging auras. Yeah. Even without that monster of an S3, she can sub Burst Damage and crowd control really well with S2. Her applications are insane, she's so strong that we can be here all day, so we won't do that, she's a very well documented unit.

Skadi the Corrupting Heart - Limited 6* Bard. Again, another well documented unit, but she can basically E3 your units with the sheer stat heft she provides through her S2 buff, can deploy an extension to this range with her Seaborn Summon, and if you really want to go ham, she can enter Microwave Mode with S3 so True Damage cook the shit out of anything, in addition to providing a really big Attack bonus to units in range while at it. Well documented unit so I'll keep it brief but yeah, godlike unit.

There's a few more, like Proviso and Scene, but that's enough for now. "Your forgot to mention--" I didn't forget, you do it.

I hope this helps, anon!

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 4

Character: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You decide it was time for a new chapter. You pack up everything in New York and drive back to Chicago with Carmy by your side. Due to the stress you both feel from the move, you're both on edge which leads to a mess you have to deal with.

Warnings: Angst, cursing, fluff

A/n: Chapter 4 is here! The further this goes the more twisty it's gonna get! I'm only getting started. Poor Carmy always has the best of intentions but seems to get caught on the delivery. Thank you for all of the support guys. I really appreciate it. I have a taglist going, let me know if you want to get added!

If you haven't read, here's: Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 and Chapter 3

Enjoy!

As you put the key in your door and walk into your apartment, it hits you that you're starting a new chapter. Once you made the decision to move to Chicago, you rang your landlord, letting him know that you were moving out. He wasn't too pleased to hear about it. You told him that you'd find someone to sublet it for the remaining 3 months you had left on your lease. You knew it wasn't going to be a challenge as New York was continuously dealing with a renting shortage.

The two weeks flew by. You felt like you were always catching up on what needed to get done. But never being able to finish a task completely. You put an ad out for your sublet, and to say people were desperate was an understatement. You had several responses in minutes and multiple viewings arranged. Once you picked the few people who were good to sublet, you handed it over to your landlord, as he had the final approval. Within a day of that, you had an official date to move out, and suddenly, everything felt real. Before this, in your mind, you felt like you could change your decision, and it would have been okay. But now, you don't have an apartment next week, so now you had to move, whether you had wanted to or not.

"Getting cold feet?" Carmy voice spoke out of your phone.

"No, no.. just seeing my things in boxes is... making it real" you looked around seeing your frames leaning against the wall and your possessions all over the place disorganized.

"Your flight is good?" You asked, bring your focus back on the task on hand.

There was a moment of silence.

"Yea, think so. Here, let me send you the link to my flights" Carmy muttered

Your phone vibrated with an email notification labeled as "NY flight".

"Okay... well... I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" You asked, feeling your stomach flip realizing you'll be seeing him.

Since you've been so busy organizing everything, you forgot the whole point of the actual move. To start a new job in a new city, with great people and a close old friend. The stress was nearly over when it came to closing the chapter in New York, and was replaced that was excitement for Chicago.

"Sure will, don't stand me up." You sensed a smile off of him

You waited at the arrival gate, scanning the bundles of people coming out. Your eyes hopped face to face, until you finally recognized one. He walked up to you with open arms carrying his backpack on one shoulder. He was wearing his wool coat and white shirt combo. Always a classic for him. You gave a quick hug, breathing in his usual smell which was a mixture of cigarettes, deodorant and gum.

Carmy was relieved to see you waiting there. He noticed you before you noticed him. A warm sensation spread across his chest when your eyes landed on him and a smile broke out on your face immediately.

You both hopped on the subway, Carmy telling you everything that happened since you've been gone. He explained how Richie, Fak and Marcus has been busy breaking down the place. While Tina and Ebra have enrolled into a short eight week course in culinary school. Syd has been busy researching new flavors and themes for the restaurant.

"Suga' has been dealin-"

"IRS are being a pain in the ass" You cut him off walking down the street getting closer to your apartment.

"Yeah.. how did you know?" Carmy looked over surprised.

"We've been chatting on the daily. She keeps me in the loop. She's also been helping me find a place in Chicago." You grinned at him pulling out your keys as you came up to building.

"Oh.." He hummed and looked down.

"So, you know everything already. Why didn't you stop me?" He asked, him now feeling out of the loop.

"I like the sound of your voice babes" You mocked, opening the door.

You looked back at Carmy, who followed you into the lobby, giving you a smirk.

You both arrived at your apartment and swung the door open. He followed you in, dropping off his bag at the door.

"I have most of the small things packed away. It's alotta awkward big stuff I'm gonna need help with." You turned around to see Carmy looking around while walking further into your living room.

You felt vulnerable now that he was standing in your safe place. The place you called home for 4 years.

"I know- its not much bu-"

"It's.. its nice. Cosy," he landed his eyes back you, giving a gentle smile.

Your apartment was small and not the most modern. But over the years, you tried your best to make it yours. Your kitchen was a joke. You barely could swing a cat in it. But lucky for you, you worked in a restaurant which mostly kept you fed and you never really cooked anyway.

"That kitchen is an abomination," He stated, pointing at it in shock.

You chuckled knowing he was going to judge your kitchen.

"You wanna know the worst part?" You walked over and grinned.

You leaned over to the stove which was crammed in the corner of the kitchen. You opened the door of the oven. The door stopped 3/4 of the way before hitting the wall in front of it. You glanced over to Carmy who's jaw was open. He raised his arms to his head in dismay.

"What the actual fuck" He uttered, walking away with his head shaking.

With a busy couple of days ahead of you, you started getting errands done. Tomorrow was the final day, and there was still a lot of shit that needed to get sorted. He started breaking down your your bed frame and tables you had.

"Ikea piece of shit" He muttered to himself as he struggled with taking out a screw that was stripped.

"Who the fuck made this bed?" He yelled out to you from the bedroom.

You smiled to yourself, knowing he was going to love the answer.

"Take a guess" you yelled back.

"Dickhead Nick" He spat finally getting the screw loose.

You giggled to yourself hearing the string of curse words Carmy was uttering.

"Finally" He huffed, after half an hour of struggle.

You popped your head around the corner and watched Carmy gather the parts of the frame and put them all together in the corner of the room. The frame was heavy, but Carmy lifted it like it was nothing. You couldn't resist looking at his arms flexed with the movement of each piece. His arms against the tight sleeves of his shirt.

"You okay?" You snapped back to notice Carmy looking over at you, dusting his hands off.

"Yeah- yeah, sorry. I'm just tired," You walked away, feeling yourself blush from the thought of getting caught admiring him.

Carmy went to collect the rental truck as you finished off putting the last few things in boxes. That night, you both slept on the floor with a blanket and pillow. It didn't matter how uncomfortable it was. You were exhausted to the point of passing out.

You woke up with the sounds of your alarm. You picked up your phone to see 5:00 am. You looked over to the sight of Carmy laying on his stomach, his face smooshed into the pillow with his mouth half open. As you sat up, the floor boards creaked, making him stir. He stretched out his arms, yawning. His white shirt tossed beside him.

"Warm?" You rubbed your eyes.

He looked at you with his eyes half open. You flicked your eyes to the white bundle beside him. His eyes followed, and realized what you were talking about.

"Um- yeah. This place is fuckin' boilin' at night," he muttered sleepily, sitting up.

"Yeah, that's the one thing I don't like about this place." Your eyes traveled down to his bare chest. His gold chain resting against his skin. Your dragged your eyes away before he noticed.

You thought back to years ago when he was way more scrawny. He really had grown into his... physique. His shoulders were a lot more toned and built than you remember.

Hold up, you caught yourself. You stopped yourself going down that rabbit hole. It's been awhile since you've gotten any but you and Carmy have never been like that.

He leaned over and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing his hair all over, pushing his arms through.

"So... let's get ready, and pack the final things in the truck, sweep the place, and we should be good to go before traffic gets bad," you commented getting onto your feet and made your way to the bathroom.

"Heard" He mumbled rubbing his eyes.

You both worked your way through the apartment and played Tetris a little with trying to cram as much as possible in the truck.

"I'm tellin' you, if you take that out, you're just going to undo all the work we did last night." You grunted, getting annoyed with the constant struggle of your belongings.

"Lemme try." Carmy snapped back, glaring at you.

He handed you the box that you were both struggling to fit. You were beyond exhausted, and the thought of driving 12 hours put you in a further bad mood.

You watched, annoyed, as Carmy readjusted the lamp that was taking up too much space.

"I know you don't wanna have this in front with us, but you goin' hafta." He took out the tall lamp awkwardly, losing his patience with it. He wiggled it and angled it out. Then, he took the box off of you. He slotted it into the gap that was left behind by the lamp. He slammed the doors and turned to you, a small smile appearing on his face.

"What?" You barked, frowning back at him.

He stared at you for a moment.

"Nothin," he shook his head, the smile still on his face.

If he was honest, he couldn't stay annoyed at you when he looked over and saw how pissed you were, holding your lamp. He thought about how rough you both were . Your hair tied away from your face, and his just a bush on his head. Both sporting bags under your eyes. You standing there holding a lamp angerly, just shifted something inside him. To him, you looked ... cute? He couldn't place the words. He dismissed the thought quickly but with the remnants of the smile left behind. You both had a lot of shit to get through today, and he's thoughts weren't on top of the list.

You entered your old apartment for the last time. Completely empty. The walls looked bare after so long filled with your favorite pictures and posters. You walked through all the rooms and checked the closets to make sure nothing was left behind.

You glanced down the hallway to see Carmy leaning against the wall, playing with the truck keys absent-mindedly. Two months ago, you were minding your business, figuring out your next job in New York. With one phone call, now you're moving to Chicago to work in a non-existent restaurant.

You made your way back to him, and you took one more look before closing the door.

"Ready?" He asked, looking back at you.

You nodded, smiling back at him.

With a long road ahead of you, you decided to take turns driving the truck. Carmy offered first. You didn't know if because he saw how tired you were, or he was just being kind. Twenty minutes into the journey, you were conked out.

One arm on the steering wheel, the other resting on the door, he would glance from time to time over to you. You leaned up against the other side of the truck with your head against the window using your hoodie as a make-shift pillow.

Carmy had a constant knot in his stomach the last week. He felt excited to see the plan that you made actually happen. It really did feel like a new beginning had started. The restaurant being remodeled and you moving to Chicago, it felt real. For once, he was actually feeling hopeful about the future.

Along the journey, you made a few pitstops for bathroom breaks and snacks.

"Where... ar wehh?" Carmy lifted his head feeling the truck coming to a stop outside a gas station.

" I dunno, fuck middle nowhere Pennsylvania," you said before getting out of the car.

"Still? Fuckin' hell. How big is this state?" He groaned, readjusting his head.

You came back with two energy drinks, and you threw him a bag of chips.

"Thanks," he mumbled

"It's the only payment you're getting for helping me move." You smirked, cracking open a can.

You heard him give a light chuckle before putting his head down again.

Once the sun came up, you both felt more awake. It a crisp winter morning. Cold, fresh, but the sun was shining with a clear sky.

You pulled over for another pit stop.

"Huhh" Carmy readjusted in his seat, completely disorientated from his power nap.

"Needa pee" you said restlessly.

"Again?" Carmy complained

"Energy drinks run through me"

The truck came to a halt. You jumped out and raced inside, barely waiting for the automatic doors to open fully before going in.

Carmy sat up in his seat and decided it was his turn to drive. He made his way to the driver side. He thought to himself for a moment before turning on the truck, putting it into drive, and pulled away.

He had no idea what got into him, but he wanted to fuck with you.

He had moved the truck to the other opposite side of the gas station, to the point where you would have to turn around to see it as you walked back to the old parking spot.

He watched the door waiting for you to come out. His hand resting against his mouth, tapping his finger on the steering wheel.

You walked out in the direction where the truck was parked, to see it not there anymore. You swore you parked it right there, took glance around to your left and right.

Were you losing mind?

Did Carmy take off?

Doubtful but it did pop into your mind.

Carmy continued to watch from the driver seat. A sneaky smile emerging on his face, he watches you look around. He could tell you thought you were losing your mind.

He gave the steering wheel a light push, and a short horn blared out of the truck. He saw you whip around from the sound, and a smile popped up on your face.

You went to the truck and got in the passenger side.

"You fucker" you giggled punching him lightly in the arm.

"Gotta keep you on your toes." He chuckled, rubbing this arm where you hit.

"I thought you dipped." You said securing your seat belt.

"Na, I'm not that bad," Carmy pulled out of the gas station.

For the next couple of hours, you chatted about random things, trying to keep you both dying from boredom. The conversation would get interrupted with Carmy's road rage of people cutting him off and traffic building up as you got closer to the cities.

"Why the fuck would Google Maps bring us on this route, it's slammed" He glanced at his phone

"Cause someone wanted to avoid tolls" You rolled your eyes to him.

"You fuckin' think I'm willing going to pay 90 dollars to those bastards?" He lightly hit the steering wheel in frustration.

"Well it would only be half-"

"It's not about the money..." He broke off as you both crawled along the road.

Nine hours into the twelve hour road trip, and both of you were starting to feel it. You were looking rough to begin with, but now you both felt just as rough.

With you behind the steering wheel again, you glanced over and saw him gaze out the window, his head leaned back. You didn't know if he was asleep. The sun was slowly starting to make its way down. The dusky sky was followed by an early dark night.

"Pull over at the next gas station." Carmy spoke up, looking over at you.

"Why?" You checked your rearview mirror and blind spot before turning your blinker on.

"Chicago is a mess when it comes to one ways. It'll be easier if I drive the rest of the way" He explained licking his lips.

You didn't fight him on this. You hated driving in a new city, the stress of the traffic, especially in a truck that was a lot bigger than your old car, you were glad he offered.

You switched sides and felt a ping of sadness that the road trip was near to an end. You were glad that the move was finally over, but wished you appreciated being around Carmy more. You felt the need to cling onto every minute spent with him. The feeling that you got in your stomach, your gut. You haven't felt that in a long time. The peace you had with him when cruising down the highway.

"What's your address?" He asked as you pulled up to a stop at a red light.

You pulled up your email confirming your lease contract on your new apartment. He glanced over, his eyebrows immediately popping up.

"You're fuckin' kidding me, ight?" He scoffed.

"What?" A hint of worry in your voice.

"Could you have picked a rougher neighborhood?" He asked sarcastically.

"I asked Sugar an-"

"Suga hasn't a fuckin' clue. Why didn't you ask me? Or anyone else...." He ridiculed.

"It can't be that bad." You dismissed his attitude, trying to reassure yourself.

There was a moment of silence with the red light turning green.

"Fuck- okay. it's fine. But if any- I mean any shit goes on, you immediately call me or Richie, okay?" He took his eyes off the road staring at you.

"Yea- yes, of course" You nodded pressing your lips in a fine line.

As you traveled through Chicago, you looked through the perspective of it as your new home. You took note of maybe some cafes and shops you wanted to go visit. You started to see more and more neglected buildings as you got closer and closer to your new apartment.

"I didn't have many options." You blurted out.

"With the timeframe I had and what I can afford right now. It was between this place and another, but I would have to wait another week before getting the other place, " you explained, feeling uneasy looking out at the streets.

"W-why didn't you tell me? We could have worked something out? You know I would have fixed you up with somethin'," He said softly.

You looked over and saw his eyes soften. You felt guilt, layered on top of all the negative feelings that were in your stomach right now.

"I didn't want to be in the way. I felt like I was already a burden with taking you away from the restaurant for the last couple of days" You brought your head down not wanting to go down this train of thought.

Carmy brought his hand up to his face and rubbed his forehead. He didn't want to make the situation worse. He wanted to pick his words carefully, feeling your uneasiness beside him.

"Look, the place isn't probably that bad and it's not forever" He gave a small smile trying to comfort you.

"Six months" You whispered feeling completely disheartened by the change in atmosphere in the last couple of moments.

"Yea- that's good. That'll fly by" He smiled again.

But it was too late, his first reaction was the real one and not what you needed. To move to a big city by yourself is hard enough. To do it in the bad part of town is not something you wanted to also deal with.

"What number?" He asked, looking out his side window

"Two thirty," you whispered.

Carmy continued down the street at a slow speed, keeping track of the numbers on the buildings.

"Here" He pointed in front of him pulling over to the curb.

You didn't even want to look. The weight in your stomach was keeping you from looking up. The adrenaline from New York had worn off, leaving you with disappointment and worry.

Carmy hopped out of the truck and was looking at a building that was a little run down, but the entrance was clean, and there were no dodgy people around that he noticed right away. He looked up and down the street to see a corner shop and a laundromat closest. He instinctively took out a cigarette and light it inhaling the smoke. He turned back to the truck window to still see you in the seat, looking down.

"Shit" He muttered to himself knowing he fucked up. He had to say exactly what was on his mind. He couldn't just keep it to himself and wait til' you got here. He mindlessly kicked a pebble on the ground while finishing his cigarette, trying to think what would be the best thing to do. He didn't want to make things worse. You were both on your reserves when it came to energy and patience with each other. He didn't want to stumble at the final hurdle.

After a few minutes, you heard the door being pulled open on your side.

"Hey... Look, I'm sorry... this is a really nice building from what I can see..." He braced his arm on the door jam.

"You're just sayin-"

"I'm not... I'm really not. I'll promise to tell you if your apartment looks like a shithole when we go see it"

You looked up to see his dead serious face break into a smile. You felt a smile creep up on your face even though you didn't want it to.

"C'mon" He nodded up, bringing his hand out for you to grab.

He helped you down off the truck, and you went inside with him right behind.

As you went to the building managers office, he walked around feeling out the place. He walked to the mailing room, which was a mess with piles of neglected mail from past tenants.

The place overall smelt like stale bleach. It was dated and worn, but it was clean. He was grateful for that.

"Got it"

He noticed how quiet you were. He would looked over and you give him a weak smile. But deep inside he knew you weren't okay. He wanted to hug you and hold you. He never had the intension to hurt you and he was pissed off with himself that he did.

You made your way to the fourth floor and made a wrong turn on the hallway before turning back.

"Here it is, 46C," you hummed, sticking the key in the hole.

With the door swinging open, you both walked in. The layout was close to your old apartment. The door opened to the living room with a hallway to your left where the kitchen and bedroom lead.

You walked into the living room where blank walls faced you with two windows looking out to the street below.

"Bathroom isn't bad" you heard Carmy call out further in the apartment.

You walked over to see him sitting on the toilet lid.

"I see you're giving it a test ride," you chuckled.

"Someone has to." He shrugged jokingly.

Him seeing you chuckle, even if it was a light one made him feel somewhat better than he didn't completely wreck the evening.

You turned around to see the bedroom directly across. It could comfortably fit a queen bed, which was a relief. From the pictures, you couldn't tell if the bed would be cramped in it.

"So, I was thinking the bed would be here?" You whipped around, spreading your arms, imitating the size of the bed.

"In the middle?" Carmy asked walking in behind.

You nodded, turning around to face the wall.

"Yeah... I think that would work," you grinned seeing the potential in this room.

You continued to imagine how the rest of your belongings would fit in your new bedroom.

"Let's get started. There's a lot to move still," he made his way out of the room.

The curse words that were uttered from both of you as you awkwardly moved the big pieces of furniture first. It was a close call when it came to the mattress fitting in the elevator. Carmy was adamant that it was going to fit.

"No way in fuckin' hell was I gonna drag this shit up four floors." He gave out as he was crushed against the elevator holding the mattress.

Both of your faces were flushed red and sweat gleaming from the heavy lifting.

Carmy and you struggled as you dragged the plastic covered mattress down the hall to your apartment. It was the last of the big pieces with mostly boxes left to carry.

Another hour, and the truck was finally empty. You took your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Eight o clock shined back at you.

"Damn, getting pretty late" You huffed, pushing the stray hairs from your face.

"I'll return the truck tomorrow," you continued watching Carmy close the back doors of the truck.

You stood there looking at each other for a beat.

"I better head home," Carmy said, taking a few steps back.

"What? No- I owe you dinner. It's the least I could do", you crossed your arms, feeling the cold around you.

"You sure?" He checked, with his head down looking up through his lids.

With Chinese on your lap, you looked across to see Carmy lean up against one of your many boxes with his legs stretched out in front of him on the floor.

"You're right, it's pretty good," you hummed, enjoying the burst of flavor in your mouth.

Carmy nodded along, tucking into this food eagerly.

The apartment was mostly quiet with the odd random distant yell from outside, you presumed to be crackheads.

"I know you won't believe me, but I really do like this place" He looked up around your living room.

"The location is shit, but..."

"I know, but this place has potential." You smiled, finishing off his sentence.

"Yeah," He said in a soft tone, turning up the corners of his mouth.

His eyes lingered on yours for a moment. You traveled your eyes down his neck, chest, and down his arms.

You would be lying to yourself if you didn't notice his arms when he helped your lift heavy boxes. He refused to let you lift anything that he thought you might struggle with. He was considerate. Always thinking about you in a way that no one else would. Your friendship meant so much to you. In a moment like this, you felt that you might need his friendship a lot more than he might need yours.

Here you are, in Chicago. Working with one of your closest friends. Nothing else is here, only him. The vulnerability you felt in that moment, developed fear that you hadn't felt before.

"I can't believe you're actually here" Carmy spoke out, breaking your swirling thoughts.

"I know, it's just hitting me too," you said in a dissociated daze.

His eyebrows furrowed for a brief moment, wondering what you were thinking. Were you regretting your decision?

"I think you'll like Chicago," He said positively, keeping his eyes on you.

"Mhmmm," you murmured, your eyes glazed over and your mind in another world of your own.

"Y-you're not regretting your de-"

You snapped out of your trance and glanced over to Carmy to see his face covered in concern.

"No- no, no." You shook your head and smiled reassuringly.

He played with the food left over on his lap.

"Well... um.. you know I'm here, right?" He questioned.

"I know," you murmured, bringing your head down.

"I'm not goin' anywhere." He continued, leaning forward, trying to meet your eye line.

There was this sadness that you couldn't shake since getting here. You could feel it deep in your stomach. Was it anxiety? That reality has finally hit you in the face? The excitement that you felt earlier wasn't there and it worried you even more.

Carmy knew there was something up. You weren't present since you've arrived. It was a long few days for both of you, and it could have been exhaustion, but he didn't want to leave you alone. He felt guilty just walking away, especially when something was up.

You kept your head down, not wanting to make eye contact with him. You were afraid that if you did, you would completely break down and cry.

A moment later, you just heard him shuffle. You felt a warm hand on top of yours. You saw inked fingers grasp yours and a body of warmth wrapping you in a hug.

You couldn't hold back. You felt your tears spill over. You turned into his chest and buried your face into his white t-shirt.

"It's okay... you'll be okay. " He hummed and pressed you closer to him.

You sat there for a couple of moments. No other words were spoken. His embrace eased the anxiety that you were feeling. You had no idea what came over you. This was not the feeling you were expecting when first moving in.

You eventually pulled away, wiping your puffy eyes. Your face was red hot from all the crying.

"I-I'm sorry." You forced a smile on your face.

He looked at you with a comforting smile, his blue eyes flickering between yours.

"Don't be." He whispered, his arm still wrapped around you.

"I'm.... just glad to be here for you." His thumb caressed the back of your hand.

Both of you sat in your new apartment floor in between several boxes scattered. The apartment was cold and bare, but Carmy was radiating heat. You leaned into him with your legs against each other. You looked away from his kind blue eyes and sniffled. You wanted to savor this moment. The peace you felt with him.

Your soft hand under his rough fingertips made him realise that he would be happy staying like this all night. If you wanted him there, he wouldn't budge. His thoughts carried on from what your hand felt like to what maybe your lips would feel like. He could only imagine the tenderness he would feel against his.

What the hell is wrong with you?

She needs you. Don't fuck this up.

You eventually looked up at him again. Your eyes gazed at his beautiful messy hair, his fatigue blue eyes, and... his lips.

You went back to his eyes to catch him looking down at your lips. Your breath caught in your throat. Both of your eyes met in that second. Your faces inches away from each other.

Both of you scared to lean in. Both of you wanted it more than anything.

His rough fingertips grazing your cheek so lightly.

In that moment, you realized what you were risking. Did you really want to go down the same path you went down before? You move for a boy, fall for a boy... get hurt by a boy.

Carmy was all you got right now. You didn't want to risk anything that would make you lose that. As much you wanted to kiss him and give into every urge you had, the sting of your previous mistake was still there in the back of you mind. In this moment, you needed to take a step back before you did something you might regret.

You dropped your head not wanting to look into his eyes with what you were going to say next.

"Carmy...I-I can't," your voice barely audible.

"Fuck, I'm sorry- I don't..." He fumbled.

"I just... I've been here before. I can't make the same mistake,"

Carmy pulled away from you completely. His hands left yours, you felt the absence of heat immediately after he pulled away.

"I-I fucked up, I'm sorry" He shuffled to his feet.

"It's not that..." You tried to get words out, but before you knew it, Carmy had grabbed his jacket and was on his way out.

"Carmen," you sternly called out, getting up from the floor.

But the door was already shut. Your gut was twisting back and forth. You were so dazed on what just happened. It was too fast for you to even digest. You stood there for several moments trying to understand what was going on.

The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. You felt your stomach churn realizing that you might have destroyed one of your closest friendships. You wanted him, you wanted to explain how you felt. You wanted him to convince you that you weren't making a mistake.

The deep feeling of anxiety in your stomach had emerged again, only this time much worse. As tears rolled down your face, you barely had the energy or will to tear the plastic wrapping off your mattress and root in the box, that was labeled 'bedding', to get a pillow and blanket. You let your body fall back on the mattress and instantly closed your eyes. This was suppose to be a new beginning in a new city. That clearly wasn't happening now that you've hurt one of the only people who you were close to in this city. The sirens in distance helped you phase into a deep sleep. Fatigue finally taking over your body. You didn't have any energy left to do anything else.

Carmy got back to his apartment, his stomach in knots. repeating the last moment he had with you. Remembering the pounding in his heart when looking into your eyes. Then, the sensation morphing into a sharp pain when you said his name in a negative tone.

He couldn't stop thinking about it over and over. He didn't even remember walking home. After you said his name, everything turned into a blur. The tone in your voice made him feel ashamed of himself. Were you disappointed in him as a friend when you needed him most? That you thought he was trying to take advantage of you at your most vulnerable? All these thoughts were whizzing around in his brain. His rational thoughts were no longer pushing through.

Should he have stayed to explain himself? Explain what he felt for you was something real that he's never had before. It's the surest thing that he has in his life right now, his feelings for you.

The last few days his thoughts made it plainly obvious that he wants to be more than friends. He was able to admire you when he usually couldn't. The everyday you. The you that was sleeping, eating, just living. He caught himself smiling to himself multiple times for no real reason. The only difference was, he was around you.

He kicked his shoes in the corner, dropping his jacket on the ground before dropping back on the couch. To say he was deflated was an understatement. The thought of seeing you tomorrow would usually make his pulse speedup but now, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He went through all the awful scenarios in his head. Were you going to ignore him? Or tell him to fuck off? Or tell him that you only ever saw him as a friend? Nothing else.

The last one drove a lump in his throat. He knew he wasn't going to get much sleep tonight. He didn't even care if he didn't. The only thing he wanted now was tomorrow to go by as fast and painlessly as possible.

Chapter 5

Masterlist of other fics

Taglist: wabi-sabi1090

[bits-and-babs]

hi, i'm so very sorry for your loss, hope you're okay since it's been a few days since you posted this

could i ask a combo 14 - 16 - 23 with our favorite flyboy poe dameron with a nice and happy ending <3

sending you all my love :))

-ˋˏ 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐊𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 ˎˊ-

— pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader

— word count: 1.1k

— warnings: Jealous Poe, Tipsy Poe. Thigh riding, exhibitionism, dirty talk as ALWAYS. Consumption of alcohol. References to sex, 18+, Ya Nasties.

— authors note: Thank you so much for your condolences, I am doing much better now <3 this ask was DELICIOUS to write, I really appreciate the distraction. I don’t know if it’s exactly what you wanted but I started writing and couldn’t stop!

poe dameron masterlist I| main masterlist |I send me an ask

A sour scent of Spotchka permeates the cantina booth you sit in and burns your nose. It's flowing heavily today to celebrate a significant win against the First Order, the liquid soaked into the seats. The implosion of the Star Killer base had been a critical mission success, one that guaranteed The Resistance the opportunity to fight another day.

Morale was high, and General Organa saw no reason to put a stop to the celebrations when everyone was in need of some sort of release.

However, you feel tenser than you did in the sky, blasting tie fighters; muscles primed and ready to spring. Your brain has initiated evasive action, but your body is frozen in place by the oak-brown eyes that settle intensely on your face.

Poe swirls the blue beverage in the tumble glass, creating a miniature whirlpool, not unlike the twisting feeling in your stomach. His gaze, irises obscured by his hooded eyelids, sets sparks across your skin like an ion charge.

He lifts the glass to his lips, taking a swig of the azure liquid and savouring the burn on his tongue. You hear him exhale slowly through his nose despite the din of the bustling Cantina. It's like your senses are honed in on the gold leader, blurring out the background noise.

"So, you and Gold-Twelve, huh?”

Your mouth dries when his eyes lift back to you, a playful spark of something dangerous flitting in his pupils. Had he seen that? The flirty arm that Kori had wrapped around your waist. The squeeze he’d given your hip— the brush of his palm against the curve of your ass.

“H-Huh?”

“Sure seems like he was getting cosy with you, Seven.” His tone is pointed but not vicious. There’s something clipped in his voice- something envious.

“N-No-… No, we’re jus-“

“No?” He asks you, pointing to the bar while maintaining a grip on the crystal glass in his hand, “Could have fooled me, Seven. He seemed ready to take you to his bunk.”

You feel heat flush your face, eyes burning into the ak-wood tabletop. Had it been imported from Tython? The rings and swirls within the grain were pretty, maybe pretty enough to convince Poe you were too distracted to listen to his probing questions-

“Come here.”

Your body betrays you. Startled by his order, your eyes snap up to his face. Poe’s eyebrow is quirked upwards, indicating his unwillingness to wait. He’s radiating this energy, something that makes your insides scream with delight.

“B-But-“

“If you’re not seeing Kori, come here.”

Seeing?! What the kriff did he even mean by that? Did he think you two were sleeping together, because you sure as kark weren’t dating! You stumble like a newborn foal out of your side of the booth, practically floating around the table to reach where he waits expectantly.

You barely slide into the booth when he’s pulling you onto his lap, hands vice-like on your hips as he settles you on his left thigh. A gasp rips itself from your throat, whiny in pitch, when he balances on his toes and grinds the muscle of his against your clit.

He’s gazing up at you, those eyes melting like chocolate when he looks at you through his lashes. Poe reminds you so much of it, rich and sweet and rare. When he parts his lips, your tongue begs to taste them, craving the oxytocin.

“I-“ you stumble; the sweep of his hands up your back in a soothing gesture makes your heart stutter and slam into your throat. “I’mnotdatingKori!”

The induced slur of the admission makes him smile, leaning up ever so slightly to get closer to you. Spotchka hangs heavy on his breath when he exhales a sigh, the tip of his nose brushing against the soft flesh of your cheek when he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Good. That’s good,” he murmurs, his own words dripping together as though all the blue alcohol has hit him all at once. Poe isn’t totally drunk. He needs rivers of Spotchka to get intoxicated, preferring the much stronger Jet-Juice as it was less of a drain on his credits and more of a buzz on his brain.

No, if you knew better, you’d realise that he’s inebriated by you. The feeling of your body on his, the feeling of your cunt grinding on his lap when he drags you forward.

Whimpering, your hands fly out to hold onto the leather shoulders of his jacket. You’re trembling already, the effects of his touch hitting you much harder than even the strongest of alcoholic beverages they served in this shitty cantina. The friction, even through your clothes, settles a twisting feeling in your abdomen when he slides his palms under your ass, grabbing a handful of you and using it as leverage.

“P-Poe-“ you moan out his name, knowing damn well that half of the patrons in the damn bar could look over and see you getting all but fucked by the Black Leader, right hand to General Leia Organa.

“So pretty for me on my lap,” he whispers, eyes engulfed by the blackness of his pupils as he sweeps them over your form as you roll your hips across the length of his muscular thigh. Poe Dameron was well known for being too damn ‘thick’ for his x-wing seat, and you can feel why. “Think you’d look so pretty for me on my cock, baby. Fuck, look at you-“

Stars, you’re gripping the leather of the booth, fingernails scratching the surface beyond repair as you feel a surge pass through you, crackling like force-lightning up your spinal cord and short-fusing your brain.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head at you, lips pulling apart in another Dameron-Dreamy smile as he works his hands between you, belt clicking quietly amongst the loud celebration of drunk revellers. “Pretty baby’s gonna wait until I’ve got a taste of what she looks like all filled up.”

Spotchka and endorphins are flooding your system; you don’t even bother to second-guess the location, the people in the room, the logistics. You just scramble to remove your cargo pants, Poe’s fingers hooking into the waistband and yanking them down just enough to slip you onto his aching dick.

The whole of Yavin 4 learns that you most certainly are not ‘seeing’ Gold-Twelve and that Black Leader Poe Dameron had already staked his claim, much to Kori’s disappointment.

Much to your delight.

END

[warderfromtheborder]

Destiny: the year of Very Well Structured Things In Sets of 2

Defiance+Wish: The Sovs Mara and Crow, the Eliksni Misraaks and Eramis, and the Regular Ass Humans Devrim and Petra(PV counts as a regular-ass human she isn't a figure of prophecy or royalty in the reef she's a cop who's been promoted too much out of necessity)

Deep+Witch: The Truncated Heros Sloane and Eris, the Osmium OGs Xivu and Savathun, the Concerned Boss-Parents Zavala and Ikora, and the Wriggly Enablers Ahsa and Drifter (okay you got me) I mean the Nonhuman Guides Ahsa and Immaru

Lightfall: Osiris with no Sagira and Nimbus with no Rohan and Caiatl with no Recognizable Dad and the Witness with no Disciples and Chioma with no Maya and the Vex with no Chill the Living People of Neomuna with no Meatspace to live in. (The dreaming city curse will never end and the people on Neptune will never get to leave the matrix Im sorry but that's the way it is)

The story and themes for this year of Destiny are SO GOOD the writers have done SUCH A GOOD JOB. If making a tighter relationship between the expansion narrative and the seasonal narratives was one of the goals this year they fucking knocked it out of the park, I can't put any of these arcs into its own box because they have been knit together so sturdily. It's all one great narrative, one Very Big narrative, they haven't done it like this before!

(And Im so mad people couldnt stop shitting on Lightfall they are stoping themselves from seeing how good the WHOLE NARRATIVE IS they are probably gonna say come march/near TFS launch "uhh yeah the seasons were good i guees but maybe they shoulda worked harder on Lightfall I mean who even likes Nimbus" and for their Ignorance and Haterism I am sentencing them to reading part two of The Two Towers while they get attacked by Paper-Tube Ninjas and a broadcast system shouts at them 'YOU CANNOT HAVE THE VICTORIES IN RETURN OF THE KING IF FRODO AND SAM DIDNT KEEP WALKING ALL THE WAY TO MORDOR' for 100 hundred years.) (The link there is I didn't get the Point of that part of Two Towers when I first read it and assumed the whole would have been better without it. Obviously...I was wrong, and so are these clowns who think Lightfall has a bad story)

The name of the game this year is Resolution, Catharsis, Armistice, Acceptance. The structuring is so simple and so elegant and so well executed, the 2s, the 3s, the mirroring and the inverting and the unfathomable gloriousness of the victories personal and community and galaxy wide. There is no way to overstate the bitterness of Amanda's death, the relief of exhalation when Sloane retreats, the VINDICATION of Eris's vengeance.

You remember when Zavala 'discovered' Crow's former identity? How that was the crowning on-screen narrative jewel in destiny up to that point? What I am saying is EVERY ARC THIS YEAR IS AS GOOD OR BETTER THAN THAT BEAT AND DESERVES AS MUCH RECOGNITION FOR THE ARTISTIC ACHIEVEMENT OF SO MANY COMPLEMENTARY COMBOS PACKED INTO ONE EXPANSION STORY.

If Shadowkeep was the first sign of symptoms, if Beyond Light was trying to irradiate the disease, if Witch Queen was a tug of war with scar tissue, then Lightfall is the world after recovery and making peace with what will Never Be The Same, and the home and family that has been changed forever but is still Your Home and Your Family. We don't stop fighting but we also don't stop loving and growing and caring.

One last thing for my fellow Sjur copium addicts out there: Sloane's retreat was mirrored and inverted by Eris's victory, so for the complementary-ness of the story to continue, Amanda's death and Crow's subsequent emotional anguish over losing the person he fought with but who also saw him for who he really is will need to be mirrored and inverted by SOMEONE who Mara fought with but who also saw her for who she really is and I expect you will agree this is SCIENTIFICALLY ACCURATE reasoning that Sjur's comin back home.

[t-lostinworlds]

I Spy, No Spy | Peter Parker

》 PAIRING: peter parker x avenger/secret agent female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: friends to lovers; fake dating-ish; fluff

》 SUMMARY: You're a trained spy, Peter was not. But you two ended up on a mission together where he was needed to be less of the chatty superhero in red & blue tights and more of a debonair undercover agent in a suit & tie. It shouldn't be too difficult, right? No mask, no web shooters. Just you and him pretending to be fiancés, hiding and making out in a closet to avoid getting caught—simple. Unless he included his overgrowing feelings for you, of course.

》 WARNINGS: peter being down bad & horny™️ for r (my fave genre of peter by the looks of it), slight self-deprecating peter, pet names (darling, my love, babe, angel), peter x suit x glasses (a dangerous combo), mediocre spy-ish stuff, canon typical violence (i.e. guns, knives, fighting, ass-kicking), slight jealousy/possessiveness (both parties), slight pettiness from r, closet make-out, little peter got excited (idk why i said it like that lmao it’s just a boner), cuddling w/ boob grab (not sexual lol).

》 WORD COUNT: 21.3k+ (is anyone still surprised)

✘ MOODBOARD

A/N: this idea has been in my drafts since sept or oct 2020? I think? basically i plotted this a decade ago a.k.a this happens after Endgame but before...anything else (NWH who? lol) this is more an alternate universe tho. i honestly have no idea how i feel about this but i did enjoy writing it. a pretty tame, fun lil spy au fic so nothing groundbreaking sksks anyways! i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ PETER PARKER MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

The sun rays that leaked through Peter's bedroom window tickled his eyelids, making them flutter open as he yawned.

A tired smile curled on his lips as he buried his nose into his pillow. It was rather comforting, hearing the faint chirping of birds, the soft rustle of the tree just outside his room, and hell, even the chants in the far-off distance of people training.

It was a peaceful Saturday morning, and Peter really liked that.

To top it off, summer had just begun, so no college work to worry about in the meantime. He was finally having a much-needed break from obligation and responsibilities—well, not entirely since the superhero gig didn't really have actual breaks. But he was hopeful that today was a quiet day, at least.

There were plenty of activities that could take up his whole day. He could start with a morning run around the large stretch of land, maybe pack up some breakfast and eat it by the lake, located at the edge of the area. He didn't mean to sound like some guru, but he could really use being one with nature for a little bit. Maybe he could meet his friends for lunch if any of them were free, or maybe he could spend the afternoon relaxing by the compound's private pool—

"Good morning, Peter."

Peter jumped with a squeak, limbs tangling with his sheets, making him fall off the bed with a loud thud. Groaning, he slowly sat up on the floor, rubbing the back of his head to soothe it.

That was certainly one way to get the sleep out of your system.

"Emergency meeting in conference room A-One in ten minutes."

Well, so much for his plans to relax.

"Got it, FRIDAY."

It was still a bit odd hearing the A.I. as an alarm early in the morning most of the time. She was certainly very helpful though. From scheduling to reminders, simple google searches to more complicated equation-solving whenever he would need help.

FRIDAY was like the compound's own Alexa but much, much more advanced. Well, she certainly wasn't meant to be used as such but nobody could truly blame him for not taking the perks for granted.

And there were a lot of perks living in the place—the Avenger's compound, to be specific—and despite being here for almost a year now, Peter still hadn't gotten used to its extravagance, much less exhausted all its resources.

It was a drastic change from the little apartment where he and May used to live, and he wasn't talking about the size alone.

She was living with Happy now, Peter visiting over for dinner whenever he could. She was a bit reluctant to let him move out at first. It was expected when they'd practically been living together for a good chunk of his life. But he was grown now, so wanting to dabble into independence shouldn't come off as a surprise.

Sure, it was more him being available and closer to saving the world type of independence, but independence, nonetheless.

Plus, Peter simply wanted to give them as much privacy as he could.

Happy and May were like teenagers in love and the things he heard despite the thick walls thanks to his enhanced abilities…he'd rather not think about it. His super hearing definitely helped in making the decision.

He still hadn't stopped patrolling New York, of course. If it was a quiet day on earth—more so, the universe—he still swung about the city, stopping any petty crime he would come across. But when an Avenger's level threat would arise, Peter was now only a couple of doors down, equipped and ready to join the mission.

It was difficult to juggle: his normal life, attending college, being Spider-Man on top of being an official Avenger.

Nonetheless, Peter wouldn't have it any other way.

Maybe it was because he enjoyed the thrill of taking the superhero gig to the next level. Or maybe it was because he was granted the opportunity to live lavishly in the compound. Maybe it was the sheer feeling of accomplishment and pride to be able to save the world. 

Or maybe it was because he got to see you every day.

You, who Peter has an insanely huge crush—no, who he really, really liked.

He might even go as far as to say that he was falling for you.

The two of you had moved in at the same time.

He could still vividly remember how he'd just placed the last box on his bed when the building shook. He peered out his window to see what the commotion was about, just in time to catch the Quinjet landing on the well-kept grass. His brows had furrowed in curiosity when the door opened, watching Sam and Bucky come out first, then a third figure trailing right behind them.

Peter didn't really believe in love at first sight, but God did it feel like that when he first saw you.

Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly love—or maybe it was, who knows—but he really couldn't deny how intrigued he was of you, intimidated even. And that was when you walked into the common room in simple jeans and a pink hoodie.

He swooned the minute you smiled at him when you introduced yourself, his knees wobbling the minute you shook his hand.

It was later on that he found out that you were a former (more like forced) member of HYDRA, abducted at a young age, trained to be one of their elite spies, and brainwashed to do their bidding. Which was why it made so much sense how the one and only Bucky Barnes had a soft spot for you—quite surprising for someone who was known to be a huge grump.

You actually came from Wakanda that day, to erase whatever it was HYDRA planted into your brain. Now, you were a recruit on the team, willing to do good with the skills you now had.

You and Peter were around the same age—part of the young ones, as Bucky pointed out—so it didn't really take long for you to become friends.

Well, a friend he kept ridiculously fawning over, a friend who made his heart race whenever you were nearby, a friend who Peter didn't really want to remain as such.

He was thankful though, being your friend was better than being no one to you at all.

But still, it was difficult to suppress his feelings, especially when you were one of, if not, the sweetest and kindest person Peter had the pleasure of knowing.

Whenever he would stumble into the compound late at night, all badly beaten and bruised, somehow, you'd be the only one awake, helping him up to his own room where you'd then clean his wounds for him.

The first night it happened, you had said FRIDAY alerted you of his presence. You had rushed as fast as you could when the A.I. mentioned he was injured. After that, it simply became a routine for you both.

It was like an unspoken rule around the compound, how you were always the one who'd patch Peter up after missions—unless you weren't present, of course. There were even a handful of occasions where Peter would be the one patching you up, a rare instance where he'd be home from campus while you'd come back from an intense mission that rewarded you with fresh bruises and cuts.

He was convinced you were simply being nice to him, though. You did consider him as your friend and you were kind enough to help with an ailment or two. You were such a caring person overall. He was sure if it was any other person, you'd do the same. So, Peter wasn't exactly special in that regard.

But then you got assigned to help him train every weekend, which only made his overgrowing crush for you, well, grow some more.

It was a new requirement for recruits, learning how to fight without much use of technology.

From the wise words of the new captain: Gadgets and tech should be there as extra sets of tools, not as a replacement for your arms and limbs. If you rely on them too much, they're going to become crutches.

Bucky stared at Sam funnily at that—since his vibranium arm was both a tool and a replacement of his limb—but everyone got what he meant. Being able to take down bad guys with only your bare hands was definitely more helpful than not.

Peter didn't know if someone was secretly spying on him, or had overheard him gushing about you to Harley—or if said friend himself had ratted him out—that led to the two of you being paired together.

Bucky said that you were the best woman for the job to help improve hand-to-hand combat or overall fighting skills. You'd been training since you were young after all, and that was saying something. Peter was probably still learning his additions and subtractions while you had already mastered the art of jiu jitsu. Wanda added that the two of you were already close hence why you got paired together, simply to skip through that awkward phase of introductions.

Peter had a feeling the two were playing matchmaker. But he chose to ignore it.

Either way, it certainly didn't help his predicament.

Being so close to you in that regard, with you wearing those tight leggings and tank tops, grunting and sweating, your bodies getting tangled and just…yeah.

Training with you was enough to make his head—both heads, if being honest, but he'll keep the other one to himself—explode.

You were incredible.

So it didn't take much for him to get distracted by you during your sessions, either.

More often than not, Peter would find himself watching you in awe rather than trying to dodge your punches. You called him out on it a few times, and each time he'd turn pink, the tint on his skin turning darker when you'd order him to do push-ups as a means to discipline. You were strict at times, but he was still so lucky that you were also being patient with him when he couldn't get it quite right the first few times. Although, you being in command and in control only added to his endless list of things he was swooning over you for.

It was admirable the way you would have him so out of breath after a spar and he was the one with superpowers. You were being smart with it, tactical with the when, where and how to hit rather than just throwing a punch for the sake of it. You'd dance around him, gracefully, swiftly, strongly, each move precisely choreographed to outmatch him as if you'd already looked into the future to know what he was going to do next.

Peter was a goner the minute you pinned him down on the floor for the tenth time in that one session.

He didn't know if it was the smug smirk on your face, your knees on either side of his hips, the way you had his hands above his head, or everything all at once. But Peter's blood was definitely boiling with every touch, rushing up to his brain that quickly turned it to mush—or maybe it was rushing down. He really couldn't tell where the pulsing was coming from. If it was his heart or some other organ that gets filled with blood.

By then, he couldn't stop thinking about you, couldn't stop talking about you, head over heels like he was living and breathing for you.

Ned and Harley said it was an obsession at this point but in his defense, you were way out of his league.

And he hadn't even taken into account how you felt about him.

Sometimes, Peter would have an inkling that his feelings were reciprocated. With the way you'd smile at him, the way you'd say sweet things to him, and the lingering touches from time to time, how could he not?

But, what if that was his rose-colored glasses making them seem like something they're not? Was it truly acts of affection and adoration or was it Peter's brain just romanticizing the shit out of simple kind gestures done for a friend?

Then came the thought that you were sweet and kind to everyone. It was just who you are, a ray of sunshine through and through—a ray of sunshine that could kick your ass ten times over but still. He'd rather not give himself too much hope. It was safer to assume that you were only seeing and treating him as a friend and nothing more.

Besides, it was too far-fetched, someone like you feeling something for someone like him.

You'd walk down a hallway with your head held high, while Peter would keep his eyes trained on the tiles. You'd stare your enemy down with no hesitation, your presence commanding, threatening, both words and actions carrying that certain chill that would make anyone second guess crossing you. While Peter would dance around them to avoid proper confrontation, going for silly jokes and sarcastic quips to mask any nervousness he would sometimes feel.

You're one hell of a powerful, strong woman and that's without any enhancements or superpowers involved.

While Peter…well, he's just your dorky, other times clumsy, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

As he said, you were way, way, way out of his league.

So he really couldn't do much but admire you from afar—or up close, but discreetly—until he would grow the extra set of balls needed to actually do something about his feelings for you, especially with the possible outcome of rejection.

He'd like to believe he'd grown quite a bit of confidence after entering college. It was a slow progress but he did manage to break out of his shell. With the number of parties Harry Osborn had managed to drag him into, how could he not? He was quite glad that now, he was able to talk to pretty girls without much stuttering and blushing involved.

But somehow when it was you in front of him, he would suddenly revert to his old high school self again. His cheeks would either be red or pink, barely able to get his words out as he would sometimes stare at you for longer than he should, all awestruck and dazed with admiration.

Peter's point was painfully proven right once again when he saw you down the hallway.

You were wearing black leggings and a black tank top along with your favorite running shoes. It was your usual getup whenever you would train or workout. Yet no matter how many times Peter had seen you in them before, it never failed to make his heart skip a beat. It was nothing fancy at all, but God did it look stunning on you.

It was mostly unconscious, and well, his rational brain did sometimes take a backseat when it comes to you. But his eyes drifted over your body, from your exposed shoulders to your collarbones, flitting momentarily on your chest, before they went to your legs, your tight leggings leaving so little to his imagination as they hugged your thighs. He tried to move his gaze back up to look at you more appropriately but simply got stuck on your hips. There was a slight sway in them as you walked—in slow motion, he was sure of it—with such confidence, and the way you held yourself with power and poise was breathtaking.

Shit. Did the AC malfunction? Why is it suddenly so hot—

"Hi, Pete."

Your voice snapped him out of his stupor. But your bright, beautiful eyes and your so-goddamn-pretty smile all while you stood right in front of him was more than enough to have him swooning again.

"H-Hey," he squeaked, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks had gotten. Add the fact that he hadn't been out under the sun much, he was sure you could see how pink it was. That knowledge alone probably made it a shade darker. Then came the fleeting thought that you might've caught him practically eyeing you up—

He quickly cleared his throat, keeping his head down to hide his blush as he opened the door to the conference room.

"After you."

"Thank you," you hummed, reaching a hand out to squeeze his arm before you moved past him.

It took a lot for his knees not to wobble at the gesture, even more, when he caught a whiff of your shampoo…or was that your perfume? But if you had just gone on a morning run and taken a shower—no, that wasn't your body wash. You didn't look like you'd just got out of the shower, so maybe it was just your scent. God, you always smell so nice.

"Holy—get your shit together man," he grumbled to himself, hastily wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, fixing up his hair before entering the conference room.

It was relatively empty—well, the whole compound was given that the rest of the Avengers weren't at headquarters in the meantime, caught in other obligations whether personal or otherwise. The only other person in the room was Wanda, sitting across from you.

"Pete," you called, tapping the chair beside you before he could even choose a seat to take. There were plenty of vacant ones. Trying to calm his raging heart, he walked over to your side and sat down. But each beat only grew faster when you tilted your head at him with a smile. "Did you go on a run this morning?"

"Oh—uh, no, not yet," he said, trying his best to keep his eyes on yours rather than let them wander, like…down your lips. Shrugging to seem unbothered, he added, "FRIDAY announced the meeting just when I woke up."

"I haven't either," you hummed. So, it was just your scent earlier, the same one that was filling up his nostrils now as you leaned a little closer to him. "Maybe we can go—"

"Another day, another robbery," Sam cut you off as he and Bucky entered the room.

You moved away from him then, leaning back on your seat, attention now on the captain. An unconscious frown made its way onto his lips, because yes, he was slightly—greatly—annoyed at the interruption.

"Only this time, it calls for a national emergency," Bucky added, taking the seat next to Wanda.

"Global, if we don't stop it in time," Sam sighed, connecting a flash drive to one of the USB ports installed on the table.

"Oh no, did they steal the president's nudes?" Peter joked, immediately shrinking in his seat when the two men shot him a look. "Sorry, sorry, bad joke and definitely not the time—I'll shut up."

"That was funny," you whispered, flashing him a smile and Peter's face immediately burned. He wasn't given much time to respond when Sam cleared his throat.

"As much as that would be horrifying, it's something much worse." He pressed a button on the table that made the hologram come to life. There was only one item shown, a rectangular, gold-colored device, probably the size of a credit card but thicker by half an inch. Sam pointed at it and said, "The Gold Codes."

"The Gold Codes?" Peter muttered, brows furrowed in confusion.

"The president's nuclear launch codes," you answered, always willing to help him out on things he wasn't too well versed on.

"Oh." Peter nodded, smiling at you appreciatively before his face fell, eyes widening in realization. "Oh. That's definitely worse than his nudes."

You laughed, and it made Peter's heart do flips.

"And of course, its partner, the nuclear football. But instead of it being a whole briefcase, it's been reduced to this—" Sam flicked through the hologram, a black device coming up beside the gold codes. It looked like a plain external hard drive, roughly the same size as a pocketbook. It wasn't that big so it was definitely easy to carry around and, by the looks of it, easier to steal.

"Technology advancing sometimes isn't the best," Bucky grumbled.

You sat straighter in your seat, forearms resting on the table as you eyed the devices. There was a furrow between your brows, lips pursed as you tilted your head.

Peter couldn't stop his smile.

He always found your thinking face adorable.

You turned to Sam after a moment and asked, "Don't they change the codes every day?"

"Yes, but as our hundred-year-old resident said, technology is advancing so the card automatically syncs up to any changes made," Sam explained.

"That's the stupidest thing ever," Wanda scoffed.

Peter nodded in agreement. "Why did these even get stolen in the first place?"

"The one who was carrying the nuclear football was a double agent," Bucky said.

"Classic," you scoffed. "And have we found where it is?"

Sam nodded at Bucky, the super soldier rummaging around a bag that Peter just noticed he brought with them. He slid across a black envelope with gold detailing, your brows furrowing as you took it in your hand.

"Oh wow, an invitation to a charity gala tonight at The Aces," you gushed, scanning through the glossy, black paper before you turned to look at Peter. You probably saw the confused look he wore because you offered him a sweet smile before explaining, "It's one of the fanciest ballrooms in New York, most of the galas they hold are very exclusive for the rich and the rich-rich, like filthy 'I can end world hunger but I'm an asshole so I won't' rich."

"Thanks," Peter hummed, smiling.

"I got you." You bumped his shoulder with a wink, which quickly made him blush.

"But it's a smokescreen," Sam continued. "The real party happens later in the night."

"That's what she said," Bucky interrupted enthusiastically, earning a heavy eye roll from Sam and laughs from you and Wanda. The technically old man looked around the room. "What? Did I say the joke wrong?"

"You got the spirit," Peter chuckled.

"As I was saying, they're holding a black market auction later in the night in the small underground theater a floor beneath the building." Sam continued, swiping up the hologram until it showed a floorplan of a theater along with a couple of photos of high-tech armor, guns, and a whole bunch of things Peter couldn't exactly name. What stood out the most to him, though, was the logos: Stark Industries, Oscorp, Pym Technologies, Sable International, and the likes. "Stolen technology and weapons being sold to anyone who has the money to buy them."

"So, it's like the dark web, but fancier," Wanda quipped.

"Stealing items and then selling them to the highest bidder," Peter hummed. "Sounds like the British."

You snorted, quickly covering your mouth when everyone turned to you with raised brows.

"Sorry," you mumbled, kicking him under the table playfully, probably as a warning to stop making you laugh. Peter only grinned proudly in response. He always felt proud whenever he made you laugh.

"Anyway, the nuclear football is easier to find. It's locked in a room along with the other items they're planning on selling," Sam started, flicking through the hologram to show a floor plan of the whole building. He circled the large room in the middle before tracing a pathway leading up to another, much smaller room. "It's located on the east wing, right side of the main ballroom. It has double doors so you wouldn't miss it, especially with the armed guards."

"And the card?" Peter asked.

"Would be much more difficult to retrieve. It's going to be with the person who orchestrated this whole thing. The problem is—"

"You don't know who it is," you finished.

Sam nodded grimly. "Whoever is the mastermind of this grand scheme has been quite good at maintaining anonymity. The only time they're going to reveal themselves, along with the codes, is during the secret auction, which you can't get into unless you're chosen to be there."

"If you think the gala was exclusive, the auction is on a different scale," Bucky explained.

"We don't know what code or secret handshake will be needed to be able to attend the auction. Our best course of action is to attend the gala, scope the scene, and hopefully, get intel on how to join the auction without much breaking and entering involved," Sam said. "I had Harley tap into the security system of the building and guess what?"

"You found an even bigger problem," you and Peter said at the same time.

Sam nodded. "The whole building is now armed with sensors fit to detect every single Avenger's superpower, any Stark-grade weapons and also, vibranium. Bucky's metal arm, Wanda's magic, my wings, so on and so forth. Neither of us could simply swoop in because the second those silent sensors go off, or any commotion will start, poof goes the codes along with our criminal."

Bucky shifted in his seat. "Even if we discard all of that and try not to use it, going in there as, quote-on-quote civilians won't work either because—"

"Everyone would immediately recognize who we are," Wanda finished.

"Since there are only two people here whose faces aren't known publicly"—Sam looked between the two of you—"Peter and Y/N, you two are going to be the ones to retrieve the codes and the football."

"W-What?" Peter choked, eyes wide as he stared at the captain. "Don't they have my powers in the sensors?"

"They only have it for your web shooters and suit, and as far as I know, both are detachable."

"But that's me, that's how I operate," he stammered. Going out there as himself wasn't part of his skill set. He'd feel too exposed without his suit. Not to mention he was going with you. Which of course wasn't a bad thing at all but it only added this pressure to not mess things up. He couldn't live with himself if he'd fail this mission, fail you—or worse, have you get hurt because he wasn't capable enough. "How am I supposed to be Spider-Man without those?"

"You have to give yourself more credit, Pete," you said, placing your hand over his own, the one resting on his thigh. Peter's eyes followed your touch before he met your gaze again, his blush prominent, heart thumping so loud he was scared you might hear it. "You're more than just a suit. And you need to remember how you've managed to make your synthetic web in the first place. So I'm sure you'll do fine with your brain alone. Even then, you still have other abilities, and you have me."

Peter looked at you fondly, a smile curling on his lips as he turned his hand so your palm was over his, squeezing it to silently say thank you. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing, not until he saw your smile turn slightly shy. It was the quick glimmer in your eyes that made him realize he was absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Seconded." Wanda smiled at the two of you, chuckling when you and Peter jumped slightly away from each other. You pulled your hand away, Peter frowning at the loss of contact. But he shook his head, turning his focus back on the mission.

"Y/N here also said you'd gotten really good at your hand-to-hand combat skills," Bucky said, an all-knowing smile on his face as he glanced between you two. "So, I don't think you'd need your web shooters as much if ever it comes to a fight."

"Which we hope won't result in that," Sam quickly added with a reassuring nod. "The plan is simple: scope and mingle, assess the scene, try and get some information as to how to get into the auction. Once you've done that, sneak into the vault to retrieve the nuclear football. I've already assigned Harley to make a duplicate device to swap with the real one so it won't trigger the alarm.

"Then, you sit at the auction and wait until the codes come up. I'm sure it will be presented by the anonymous seller so by then, we will be able to put a face on the mastermind. Our agents should already be blocking every single exit of the building by that time so all you have to do is to retrieve the code calmly. Try and ease your way into the main stage, charm and persuade, or whichever way works. Any more questions?"

You and Peter looked at each other, before you both turned to Sam, shaking your heads.

"Good. We've already set your fake identities up, google searches running for miles, the last thing we need are photos, together, individually, candid and professional which would only take a few minutes. Your fake names are already on the guest list, your outfits and everything else you need will be waiting for you at the hotel you're getting ready at as part of the whole ruse," he instructed. "You two are the best and only shot we've got in this. Plan your moves wisely and rely on each other. We can't afford to lose those codes."

"Yes, Captain."

•••

The hotel suite was fancy.

Peter had never been in one this expensive-looking before.

It had its own living room, a minibar, a huge bathroom, a king-size bed, and then a massive window that overlooked New York City. He definitely indulged himself with their complimentary champagne, and given the fact that he couldn't get drunk, he mostly did it for the taste—which was flavored expensive, to those wondering. Hell, even the chocolate they had tasted expensive.

Then again, the two of you were undercover as a rich, engaged couple so it was part of the whole thing. You never know whose eyes and ears were for who in these types of missions.

But still, it was quite the treat and he'd be stupid not to make the most of it—without getting too distracted, of course.

Peter was now all suited up, not in spandex this time. It was a crisp, black, formal suit made with fabric he wouldn't dare guess the cost and a brand he couldn't even begin to pronounce. He had a white dress shirt underneath, paired with a black tie. The one he was currently having a hard time doing as he stood in front of the floor-length mirror in the living room.

He groaned in frustration when he once again messed it up. He didn't wear this kind of clothes often, so he really didn't have much of a reason to learn to master the art of…tying?

"Need help?"

Peter turned around, the breath knocked out of him once he saw you come out of the bedroom.

Wow.

Oh wow you looked gorgeous in red.

It was an off-shoulder, long-sleeved dress, your arms covered in lace as the fabric hugged your figure. The skirt was long as it fanned onto the floor with a really high slit on your right leg to show off the silver heels you were wearing. Your hair and make-up were done to marry the whole style, all while enhancing your natural features rather than covering them. Your red-painted lips though—

"Wow."

"Yeah," you laughed softly, your gaze falling over yourself as your hands smoothed the fabric of your dress. "I don't know who picked it but it's really pretty and it fits really nicely. Perks of having body scans for our suits, I suppose."

"You look beautiful," Peter breathed out, still frozen in his place as he stared at you in absolute awe.

"Thank you," you said, your sweet smile turning into a smirk as you eyed him up and down with a nod. "You clean up nice, too, Parker."

"Oh—uhm, t-thanks." He blushed, shaking his head before gesturing both hands at you. "But you, I—wow, you look, wow."

"Shut up," you laughed, your dress flowing as you moved closer to him. "Here, let me."

Peter wasn't even given much time to recompose himself when you once again took his breath away by simply standing so close to him. Every inhale was just filled with your scent, his heart skipping a few beats as he scanned your face, only a couple inches from his and God did you look even more beautiful up close.

His blush deepened when you reached for his tie, your brows furrowed in that adorable way he'd come to familiarize as you slowly did it for him.

Peter honestly didn't know what to do with his hands, yet there was some sort of pull that he couldn't resist, like an instinct as he gently rested them on your waist. He was distracted by how close you were, but not enough to miss the way your breath hitched at the contact. Testing the waters, he squeezed it gently, biting his cheek to stop his smile from growing when he saw your fingers falter.

But oh did the pride bubble in his chest.

You shook your head, finishing up his tie with a smile. It was Peter's breath that hitched this time when you smoothed it over his chest, your palms flat against the muscle, touch so sweet, skin so warm. You looked up, your smile faltering when your eyes met his.

He didn't know how long you stared at each other. He also didn't know who moved a little closer first, but he definitely wasn't complaining. Not when he was so close that he could count exactly how many eyelashes you had. And he gladly would've if your voice hadn't snapped him out of the trance that nobody could ever put him under but you.

"We should get going," you whispered, but you still lingered for a few more seconds, more than enough for his brain to run its course, thinking that maybe, his feelings for you weren't as unrequited as he thought.

It was the sound of a beeping alarm that broke you two apart.

"Come on, we can't be late," you said after a breath, flashing him a sweet smile before going to grab your things.

"Wait," he cleared his throat, patting around his pockets before finally retrieving a velvet box. You turned around just as he'd opened it, showing you the ring that resided inside.

Your eyes widened, lips opening and closing as you gawked at the sparkling diamond for a few seconds before you met his gaze. "Peter—"

"Oh shit! It's not what it looks like!" he panicked.

Peter did always find himself daydreaming about you often, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't already pictured something similar to this moment. But even he could recognize how many steps he'd basically jumped over by showing you a diamond ring. And as much as he would love to fast-forward to that part, he'd also like to take you out on a date first. Well, if he'd even get the courage to ask you that, anyway. 

"I-uh, you know, us, covering as an engaged couple? So, of course, uhm, you'll need an engagement ring?"

"O-Oh," you fumbled, nodding quickly before you offered him your left hand. "Yeah, of course."

Peter took it in his delicately, fingers running over your knuckles before he carefully slipped the ring on. Squeezing your hand, he reluctantly let go. 

"Did you pick this?" you asked, bringing your hand up to your face, fingers wiggling as you admired the ring.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I did—well, Bucky helped."

"It's beautiful."

"It looks even more beautiful on you."

Your eyes snapped up to look at him, your smile growing as you hummed, "Charmer."

"It's the expensive suit." He shrugged, a teasing grin with a blush to match.

You laughed that lovely laugh of yours, adoration and pride swelling in his chest.

"Oh, Harley asked me to give you this," you said after a moment, pulling out a familiar pair of glasses before handing it to him. "He said it's all you need to do your magic."

"Nah, it's just a little tool kit I put together, really, kinda like a small computer so nothing magical about it," he chuckled, waving the glasses before putting them on. "It's carbon-based nanotech, passable through metal detectors. I've managed to look up what security system they had installed in the safe and there's sort of a minicomputer inside so it should be easy to bypass the system. I already have the program in here that would run through all the probable security codes so all I need to do is activate the glasses and it would automatically unscrew everything and connect to a hopefully pre-existing female micro-USB slot with the male counterpart in this old thing and—" he paused, face heating up as you gazed at him with a twinkle in your eyes. "What?"

"Nothing, just—you're amazing," you sighed, smile widening before you nodded. "Let's go?"

Peter ignored that way his whole body tingled at your praise and offered you his arm.

Not like it was a new reaction whenever he was around you, anyway.

"Let's."

•••

"Mr. Reid, the car is already waiting for you."

That was the first sentence Peter heard when you reached the hotel lobby. He looked behind him before looking at the man in a suit, pointing at himself in confusion.

"I'm not—"

"Lucas, honey, come on," you cut him off, slipping your fingers in his. You flashed him a knowing smile, squeezing his hand before you tugged him along as you followed the guy.

Right. Fake identities.

"Woah." Peter gawked at the car in front of him, leaning closer to you as he whispered, "Is that a Rolls Royce? Like, the new one?"

"Sort of. It's the Phantom Extended." You nodded with an amused smile. "The best way to blend in with the rich, don't you think?"

Peter was about to open the door for you but then the butler—at least, he assumed that was who he was—beat him to it. So, he opted on helping you with your dress instead, making sure it didn't get caught on anything as you settled inside.

"Thank you, my love," you giggled.

My love.

Peter luckily didn't slip on the expensive lambswool floor mat as he got into his seat.

It's pretend. Get a grip.

Once the car started moving, you pressed a button on the center console, the clear glass that separated the front and back immediately turning into an opaque white, completely secluding the two of you from the driver. He looked at you curiously, nervous—okay, and maybe a bit excited—as to why you decided you suddenly needed privacy. Peter had heard a lot of stories about what goes on in the rear cabin of expensive cars, especially with the partition up, so could it be—

"Did you get to read about our fake identities? The one Sam sent?"

Thinking with the wrong head again, aren't we, Parker?

"I, uhm, no, got too preoccupied with the ring and getting dressed," he admitted, looking at you guiltily. The mission had barely started and he was already messing it up. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no, it's okay," you reassured with a smile, hand on his thigh, squeezing for good measure. He wasn't able to relish in the warmth of your touch for long as you shifted in your seat, turning around to face him. "I mean, everything is very last minute. I'll just tell you about it.

"Lucas Reid, the young 26-year-old and dashing CEO of Reid Enterprises. You inherited the company at nineteen when your father died of illness," you started.

Peter scrunched his nose. "So, basically, I'm a trust fund baby?"

"Sort of, but you do prove that you did the work," you said. "Company sales skyrocketed when you took the seat."

"What about you?" Peter gestured at your ring, blushing. "Well, apart from being my fiancée."

"I run my own fashion company." You shrugged, winking at him as you added, "Can't be living in my future husband's shadow now, can we?"

Future husband.

God how Peter wished for that to be true.

He shook his head, hands rubbing on his thighs. "Do we have a backstory? Like, as a couple?"

"Not much. Five years ago, we met in Milan during fashion week—"

"Let me guess, sparks flew right off the bat?" he chuckled.

"Love at first sight, obviously," you scoffed, rolling your eyes teasingly.

Not too far off from reality.

"Besides that, it's all the basics from there. Dates, extravagant gifts, and then two months ago, you proposed."

"Right," he started, bumping your knee with his lightly. "So, when's the wedding?"

You laughed, "We're not sure yet. Too busy."

"Of course," Peter sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. "Can't get me out of my office, now can you?"

"I have my ways," you hummed, wiggling your brows at him.

Peter was so sure his face had gone so red.

"You always do," he chuckled shyly, shaking his head before smiling at you. "Can we go over the plan real quick?"

You smiled. "Of course."

Peter knew what to do, obviously. He'd already gone over the plan probably a hundred times in his head. But he simply wanted to make sure he wasn't missing anything, especially something that could potentially jeopardize the whole mission. He couldn't afford even one single misstep, not when you and your safety could be put at risk—and the millions around the world that would suffer if those weapons got into the wrong hand, of course.

"We're almost there," you said once you've gone over the plans twice, eyes scanning across the windows. "It's just on the next turn."

Peter's heart quickened.

He didn't even notice that his emotions had gone evident on his face. Not until you squeezed his arm.

"You okay?" you asked, brows furrowed in concern.

"Yeah! Yeah, of course," he said quite unconvincingly. It was when he heard the ticking of the turn signal did his nerves shift to overdrive, his eyes wide as they met yours. "Shit, I don't think I can do this. I mean, I'm not usually out there with my face showing, you know? And I'm so so so not James Bond, I'm the farthest from James Bond I'm like, Lame Bond. I'm not smooth o-or charming or suave enough to be a spy—oh no. No, no, no, what if they find me out right away? I'm going to mess everything up and this is going to go horribly wrong and—"

"Hey!" you interjected, hands cupping his face, squishing his cheeks slightly as you pulled him closer, eyes boring into his with determination. Peter didn't know if it was the proximity that shut him up, or if it was your scent that overpowered his senses—probably both. "You're going to be fine. You've got this."

He gulped, nodding before letting out a shaky breath.

You smiled reassuringly, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, his skin turning redder with each caress. "Be observant, you don't have to talk. With this kind of crowd, trust me, the quiet ones are the most intimidating. If there's anything you feel like it's a bit off, trust your gut, and let me know, okay?"

"Okay," he breathed out, nuzzling into your palm absentmindedly, finding a sense of comfort from your warm touch.

"And if it gets overwhelming, just follow my lead."

•••

Peter got out of the car, nodding curtly with a tightlipped smile at the driver who opened the door for him.

He decided at the last minute that Lucas Reid was going to be a stoic, passively quiet CEO with a resting 'serious' face that only means business.

Peter straightened up his suit before he offered you his hand, the huge rock on your finger glinting underneath the city lights as your palm met his.

He gently guided you out of the car, helping you fix up your dress before offering you his arm. Your fingers curled around his bicep as you kissed his cheek with a soft thanks. Peter smiled at you warmly, pulling you closer to his side as you made your way inside the building.

Stoic and passive except towards his lovely fiancée, of course.

He might or might not have stumbled upon a few Mobster Spider-Man fanfictions on some website not too long ago. And he might or might not have taken some inspiration from it.

"Please take a basket to put your phones and any other electronic devices in and step under the detectors one by one," one guard instructed.

Adjusting his glasses, he pulled out his newly upgraded phone. It was sponsored by the Avengers obviously since he couldn't exactly rock up with his old, cracked one, with him being rich and everything. He smiled at the lock screen photo—it was of you and him, your lips pressed against his cheek, taken just a couple of hours ago to have photos to make this engaged couple gimmick believable—before he placed it in the basket you were holding up for him.

You smiled reassuringly before you stepped under the metal detector first, Peter following just closely after.

He let out a nervous breath when he saw how heavily armed the guards were. A variation of M17s and a couple of AK-47s were in the hands of fully uniformed men from head to toe. They look like your typical SWAT team, but Peter knew they were more dangerous than that, especially when their morals were as corrupted as he'd presumed.

He was an enhanced superhero, yes, but he sure as hell wasn't bulletproof. And as much as he could probably dodge a few shots, he would rather not take the gamble of finding out exactly how many he could avoid.

That wasn't what he was worried about, though. Because as he felt your fingers slip back into his, he was reminded of how vulnerable and defenseless you were. No superpowers, no bulletproof vests, still an amazing badass who without a doubt could take on two guys in a fight and win, but still a human who could get badly hurt by a simple pull of a trigger.

There were only so many bullets he could jump in front of you for.

"We're going to be fine," you whispered, squeezing his hand as if you could sense his worry. "I got your six."

Peter squeezed back. "And I've got yours."

The two of you stayed close to each other, arms linked as you headed towards the ballroom. But once the huge archway came into sight, you leaned closer to him.

"You go ahead," you whispered in his ear, squeezing his bicep. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Peter nodded.

He knew that some agents had already hidden some of your equipment hours before. Well, he hoped they successfully did, anyway. If not, then, you both might have to compromise.

Peter didn't know what exactly he was expecting when he entered the ballroom but it definitely wasn't as fancy as this.

The ballroom was grandiose in itself with its ornate marble columns and crown moldings, complementing the beautifully impressive murals that covered the ceilings. Even the red curtains that draped along the walls seemed far too luxurious for the mere fact that they were curtains for crying out loud.

Peter had never seen so many chandeliers hanging all in one space, not to mention, ones that seemed to be decked out in gold and crystals…or were those diamonds?

Everything was decorated with a color scheme of cream, black, silver, and gold, from the round tables and accompanying chairs. To contrast were various glass structures illuminated by some kind of light as they glinted and shimmered even from the corner of his eye. There was an open bar in one corner, a long table of finger foods and various desserts, and live music coming from the string quartet on a rotating, circular stage right in the center of a—is that an indoor fountain?

"Wow," you gasped as you appeared beside him, your eyes twinkling underneath the chandeliers. "It's gorgeous."

"Yeah," Peter sighed, eyes trained on the way your face glowed in awe as you admired the space. "Gorgeous."

Your smile brightened as you tilted your head, gaze meeting his. Then, your brows furrowed, stepping in front of him and eyeing the top of his head. "Come here. I need to fix up your hair."

Peter ducked his head without question, hands around your waist as he let you settle the mess of his windswept curls. He found the furrow of your brows absolutely adorable, but the way your tongue slightly poked out of your red lips made him want to just pull you in and kiss you senseless.

You tucked a few short strands behind his ear, gently pressing your thumb into his concha, the earpiece fitting snugly before he heard a faint crackle and then a deep voice.

"Parker, can you hear me?"

"Aye, aye, Captain," he muttered.

He heard a few snickers in the background followed by Sam scoffing sarcastically.

"My, aren't you two cute."

Peter's brows furrowed, confused eyes meeting yours. "What does he mean?"

"I answered the same way," you giggled, shrugging as you smoothed over his tie and buttoned up his suit jacket.

Peter's heart fluttered at that.

"We'll be on the line listening. Be discreet. Only communicate what's necessary."

You and Peter shot each other a look, grins widening into a knowing smirk.

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"Jesus Christ."

The line went quiet, presumably Sam muting their end until further notice.

Peter shook his head, chuckling before turning to you. "So, what now?"

"Scope," you said, waving back at a random woman who was making their way over to you both. You turned to him with a smile. "And mingle."

•••

Peter was so far out of his element.

He was already a terrible liar when under pressure, stuttering and blubbering until he would end up telling the truth. And that was around people he got along with.

Now how was he supposed to make small talk with the rich all while pretending to be rich himself when he clearly was not?

His best course of action? He didn't talk.

It fit well with the persona he'd created, anyway.

He was mostly following your advice—well, more like literally following you around. He was like your trophy fiancé in some way, and honestly, Peter wasn't opposed to it.

You were taking charge, and all he had to do was scope the scene, nod and smile whenever he was acknowledged while mostly speaking only to you.

From an outsider's point of view, he probably looked like such a puppy for his girl, only meeting your eyes, hovering by your side, his attention and touch always on you. A hand on the small of your back, an arm around your waist as he hung onto every word that slipped past your beautiful red-painted lips. For them, he was simply a man completely enamored by his soon-to-be wife. So it definitely sold this whole fiancé gimmick you two got going on.

Then again, it wasn't like he had to pretend that much, either. It wasn't hard to act all smitten with you because he already was. And, okay, he was playing it up a little. Peter would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy acting like you were his and he was yours, even if it was only for a mission.

Other than that, he also quite enjoyed indulging in the food and beverages that were paraded around by the waiters. It tasted so good, so obviously made with high-quality and expensive ingredients, but most importantly free. Could you blame him for taking advantage of it?

He was being an opportunist, he was well aware, which was why he didn't think much about downing the very tasty champagnes they offered, especially when he was free from any consequence that the drink brought—well, one of the consequences.

Because as much as he was immune to the buzz of the alcohol, he couldn't say the same for the effects it brought on his bladder.

It didn't really expand when his abilities got enhanced.

With how utterly gorgeous you looked tonight, it shouldn't have surprised him that the second he left your side, some men in this gala would take his absence as an opportunity to make a move.

He might've been acting like a guard dog, he admits, glaring at anyone who dared to glance at you wrongly. You were "his fiancée" after all, he was simply playing the part of your possessive protective husband-to-be.

That was what he told himself, anyway.

But still, when he came back after his little bathroom break, Peter wasn't too keen on what he saw.

You were talking to some dark-haired man wearing a bold, fully gold-colored suit and an even bolder beard. He didn't look old, but he didn't exactly look young, either. Or perhaps his facial hair played a part in that regard. He was—as much as he hated to say it—well-built and good-looking. If Peter was to guess, he was probably in his early 30s.

The interaction looked innocent enough, and Peter wouldn't have found it a big deal if this guy wasn't eyeing you up like you were a piece of meat.

"Amelia Devonché," the man greeted, his French accent thick, his flirtatious tone, even thicker.

So that's your fake name.

"The one and only," you said, smiling as you tilted your head. "Although I don't think we've been introduced."

"Halbert Auclair," he said, bowing as he held out an open palm.

Halbert? What kind of name is that?

"Pleasure to meet you," you hummed, slipping your hand into his.

"Pleasure's all mine. You look quite lovely tonight, mademoiselle," he crooned, bringing the back of your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

Peter's jaw clenched, an intensely heated emotion boiling his blood, only relaxing slightly when he heard your fake giggle.

He'd heard your real one enough to differentiate the two.

"Why, thank you, monsieur."

Clouded by his emotions, Peter took long strides towards you, swiftly wrapping a possessive arm around your waist and pulling you to his side, kissing your temple and then, without thought, near the corner of your mouth.

Your eyes snapped to meet his, a fleeting look of surprise on your features before you quickly masked it with a smile. "This is my fiancé—"

"Lucas Reid, one of the youngest yet richest CEOs here today," Halbert interjected, offering his hand out to shake.

"Hmm," Peter said with a curt nod, his grip a little tighter when he shook it.

"Man with few words, I see," Halbert chuckled dryly, flexing his fingers once they were free from his hold.

Peter bit his cheek to stop a smirk, pushing his glasses up before slipping his hand into his pocket, looking at you with a much more relaxed smile.

"My fiancé isn't great with crowds. Always stuck in his office, he is. The only thing in his mind is the business, and well, me," you gushed, resting your left hand on his chest, tilting your head to flash him a smile. "Am I right, handsome?"

"Very much so, darling," Peter said, unaware of how his voice sounded. He was still running on jealousy that he couldn't help but gently take your hand from his chest, bringing the back of it to his lips and then kissing the diamond ring on your finger. He smiled at you sweetly as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. "You still owe me a dance, my love."

You blinked a few times, lips parting before you shook your head with a soft laugh, "Oh, yes! How can I forget."

"Have a lovely night, madem—"

Peter didn't even wait for him to finish his sentence as he gently ushered you towards the dance floor, just in time for the string quartet to play their version of Quando, Quando, Quando.

So…he didn't quite think this through.

Peter had no idea how to dance.

His boiling jealousy was quickly replaced with nervousness and dread as you guided his hands, one on your waist, the other curled around yours.

You were so blatantly staring at him that his nerves could only grow tenfold. It was only a matter of time before you realized just how jealous he acted. Hell, he only just realized it after the emotion had left his system. And despite avoiding your eyes, he could still sense it, how you were trying to figure out why he'd done what he just did.

Peter cleared his throat, "Something wrong?"

"Are you okay?" you countered, placing your hand on his shoulder before moving to the music.

He didn't know if he should be thankful or slightly embarrassed that you were the one leading the dance. But then again, there probably would never be a time when Peter wouldn't follow your lead—dancing or otherwise.

He'd follow you to the ends of the earth if he could.

It was working, though, bodies synchronously swaying to the sound of strings as if you'd done this plenty of times before. It was either a testament to how good you were at basically everything—a quick learner, a leader, a teacher and hell, a dancer—or just how well you two complemented each other.

Peter believed it was both.

"Yeah," Peter chuckled timidly, eyes trained on the ground to avoid your eyes and to make sure he wouldn't step on your foot. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seemed…" you paused, hand squeezing his shoulder lightly. "Angry."

Peter blushed.

Jealous. Not angry.

"I'm not," he brushed off, shaking his head. "Got nothing to be angry about."

"Right," you hummed, and it sounded like you didn't believe him at all.

"Did I mess up?" Peter sighed, worried eyes finally meeting your curious ones.

"What? No. You just came off as quiet which isn't a big deal," you reassured, smile widening with amusement. "Where did that South London accent come from, though?"

"Wait." Peter blinked, frowning. "I did an accent?"

"Yeah, you did," you laughed. "Which I didn’t even know you could do."

"I guess I was too nervous to even realize," he admitted, chuckling. "I've been binge-watching The Great British Bake Off lately, maybe I just picked it up."

"So nervousness makes you do accents," you hummed, smiling. "Interesting."

"What?" He narrowed his eyes at you teasingly. "Don't tell me you like a British accent too, like, half the world apparently."

"It's cute," you admitted with a shrug. "But I like your accent more."

Peter blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah, I like the kid from Queens," you said nonchalantly.

Peter almost stepped on your foot. If you weren't a trained spy with quite good reflexes, you might've gone home with a bruised toe.

You shook your head, giggling as you pulled him back to the rhythm of the dance. "You're going to have to keep the charade if you speak to other people, now, though"

"Yeah, didn't really think about that." Peter scrunched up his face, clearing his throat before he looked at you shyly. "I really don't dance."

"Well, you're doing great so far," you hummed, pulling him closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Peter secured his on your waist then, both of you gliding across the dance floor to the symphony of the strings as you held each other's gaze. It was impressive, really, that this was the first time you both danced together, but danced like two spiders spinning their silks in a synchronized choreography to create a large heart-shaped web.

Then, he felt bold, confident.

He didn't know if it was from that same pull from earlier tonight, his senses being muddled by your overpowering presence, your warm body pressed so close against him, or the sweet lure of the music that added something to the air.

Perhaps it was everything all at once.

But Peter couldn't help but lean even closer, the tips of your noses just a hair's breadth away.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his gaze fluttering across your face before meeting your eyes.

Peter reveled in the way your smile got shy.

"You've said that already."

"Once will never be enough."

You shook your head with a giggle, eyes twinkling, "And you said you aren't smooth."

"Like I said," he started, lowering his voice, shrugging with a teasing grin, "It's the expensive suit."

Peter's heart warmed at your sweet laugh, that certain pull growing stronger at the lovely sound. He dipped his head, noses touching before he pressed his forehead against yours. He squeezed your waist when your breath hitched, warm and inviting as it tickled his lips, tempting, oh so close—

"Ahem."

You both jerked back, eyes wide with surprise.

"Sam! You've ruined it!" Peter heard Wanda hiss through the earpiece.

"He was finally getting somewhere!" And that was Harley.

Peter's whole face grew hot with embarrassment, squeezing your waist, still keeping you close as he looked away.

He completely forgot about the comms being live and open to everyone back at the compound.

Then again, all of them had been suspiciously quiet until now. 

"Well, damn, I'm sorry? But this is an important mission, not a radio drama?"

"You just had to cockblock—"

"I'm surprised you even know what that means, you white fossil—"

You cleared your throat, smiling at Peter shyly. "Any intel?"

"I think that French dude is our bad guy," he answered swiftly, ready to change the subject or else his knees might go out.

"Auclair?" You raised a brow at him with a smirk. "How so?"

Peter might sound like he had a vendetta against the guy who shamelessly flirted with you. But, he did have a few points to back his claim.

"It's kinda weird how quickly he knew about us. Unless he stole the guest list and researched every single one of the names or he's the host. Also, he really made a point in stating how rich I am. You only do that when you want money for the auction. And if that's not proof enough—" Peter pulled a black and silver playing card out of his pocket, the same one Halbert gave to him during the handshake. "Seven of hearts, well, kinda. It's more arrows than it is hearts. All of them are pointing downward no matter which way you turn it. Look—" He turned the card, an almost holographic effect as the arrows remained south. "That's not how normal playing cards are. So I assume it means downstairs to the secret auction. And we've got about an hour max until it's seven. And if that's not obvious enough—" Peter showed you the back, tilting it to the light to expose the words 'Big Toys, Bigger Guns' in the middle in gold lettering.

"Cheesy, but it works," he finished.

"That's a really good catch, wow," you praised, grinning proudly. "Someone's getting the hang of this already, huh?"

"Watching those James Bond movies finally paid off, I guess," he chuckled, nodding at you. "Plus, I got a good teacher."

You smiled. "Keep a careful eye on him," you instructed, snorting a little when he all but glared when he found the man. You squeezed his slightly tensed shoulders. "Subtlety."

"I don't think I need to be subtle because he keeps eyeing you like he stands a chance as if the rock on your finger isn't big enough. You're my fiancée. So me glaring at some guy with too much beard who looks at you far too long for comfort let alone appropriate isn't out of the ordinary," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Men are pigs I tell you."

"Someone's committed to the bit," you teased, smiling far too bright for it to be innocent. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous."

Peter quickly snatched a champagne flute from the tray when a waiter walked past, handing it to you with a small curtsy.

"You look parched, my darling."

You rolled your eyes but took the glass anyway, your grin telling him that maybe you like the accent more than you were letting on.

But she likes your accent more.

Peter couldn't stop his heart from melting at the thought.

He was also glad that his distraction worked, his jealousy hopefully forgotten as he guided you toward the bar once the song finished.

"Door's unguarded," you murmured against the glass, sipping gingerly before you handed it back to him. "Stay here and keep an eye out. I'll find us a key."

Peter nodded, sitting on one of the stools as he carefully and deliberately followed your movement. Not that he thought you couldn't handle yourself, but an extra pair of eyes will always be better than none. Also, he was being observant of his surroundings, his enhanced senses helping in making sure there wasn't anything suspicious going on, keeping him on high alert in case he needed to jump in.

He watched with pride as you slyly stole a keycard from a gullible enough guard who was too distracted by your flirting. It was an impressively swift sleight of hand that if he wasn't paying attention enough, he would've missed it.

Still, Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes at how stupid and easy these guards tend to be, any focus and rational thought out the window all because of an alluring smirk, a teasing touch and a glimpse of skin—the simplest seduction from one gorgeous woman.

But then again, he wasn't exactly one to talk. Because as innocent as a bright smile from you, Peter would literally do anything you ask him to.

He was far too focused on you that he didn't even realize that someone had replaced your seat, not until he heard his name—well, the fake one.

"Lucas Reid."

Peter turned, eyes landing on a woman wearing a gold dress, curled, long hair framing a somewhat familiar face. Peter wasn't blind, he could see she was objectively pretty. But she simply could never hold a candle next to his gorgeous fiancée—fake or otherwise.

"Greta Auclair," she said with a smile, holding out her hand.

Peter didn't miss the flirtatious undertone in her actions. How could he when she was so adamant on fluttering her eyelashes at him, or the way she wasn't subtle at pushing up her chest, the low-cut top doing so little to hide…it? Them?

Not that he was looking. It was simply in his line of sight.

"Auclair," he hummed, shaking her hand briefly as he tried to make sure his accent didn't sound so forced. He honestly didn't know why he decided to make things harder for himself. "Any relation to Halbert?"

"Twin sister," she waved off, flipping her hair to one side.

Peter nodded without another word, attention swiftly shifting to search for you in the crowd.

"I must say, I've heard a lot of things about you," she hummed as she leaned forward, fingers curling around his bicep, gold-colored, manicured nails glinting underneath the light as she squeezed the muscle. "Apart from being a quiet man, of course."

Peter's resolve faltered a little, the gesture completely catching him off guard.

What's up with this family and overstepping personal space?

"Good things, I hope." He smiled tightly, crossing his arms over his chest, subtly shaking her hand off.

"Oh yes, very good things," she giggled, hand on his thigh as she leaned forward with a smirk. Winking, she added, "Naughty ones, too."

Peter gulped as he leaned back.

"O-Oh, uh—"

"Lucas."

He quickly spun around on his stool to the sound of your voice, facing you fully. His eyes widened in surprise as you gently nudged his knees apart but he didn't even hesitate to make room for you to stand in between. He placed his hands on your hips when you pulled him closer, your arms snaking around his neck.

Peter didn't know exactly what was going on, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Besides, like he said before, he would always follow your lead.

Yet still, he looked up at you in both curiosity and confusion, trying to gauge what was going through your mind. But you certainly were better at reading people than he was. Or perhaps that was you simply being a master at masking your emotions. Because apart from the slight edge on your smile, he was coming up empty.

"You must be Amelia," Greta interrupted.

Your grip on Peter's shoulder tightened, eyes rolling with a scowl before you turned to Greta with a forced smile. "Yes, hi."

Peter's brows raised at your uninterested tone, even more when you didn't even bother prolonging the conversation as you turned back to him, body leaning closer.

Interesting…

"Can you help me find the bathroom?" you purred, tone seductively sweet to match the implication of your words. You pressed your chest against his, faces only inches apart as your fingers played with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

Peter short circuited.

He merely stared at you in awe, blood growing hot, heart pumping erratically as his grip on your waist tightened.

Peter would be lying if he said he wasn't at the least bit turned on.

"Please?" you added with a pout when he didn't manage to speak for a good few seconds.

It was the slight pinch on his skin that snapped him out of it.

"Of course, my love," he said, clearing the lump in his throat as he hastily stood up.

Peter wasn't even given the time to get his bearings straight when you immediately took his hand in yours, pulling him away from the bar and down the hallway. He squinted at the sudden brightness of the ceiling lights, greatly illuminating the cream wallpaper with intricate gold-colored patterns, similar crown molding from those in the ballroom, and various paintings hanging on the walls for guests to admire. The space was obviously still for public access, but it was relatively empty.

Once you two were alone, you didn't bother hiding your emotions. And Peter could clearly tell that you were angry.

It was making him slightly nervous.

"Is everything okay?"

You ignored him.

Peter frowned when pulled your hand from his and put some distance between you. He watched as you tensely opened a metal door, entering in haste without looking back. He ran after you to avoid getting locked out, the two of you entering another much smaller hallway that could only fit one person at a time. It was more of a tunnel, to be honest.

He never liked it when you were upset, especially during a high-risk mission. But most of all, he hated disappointing you, and with the way you were acting, he could only assume he'd done something wrong.

Peter was hot on your tail, carefully watching your every sharp turn, just to make sure he wasn't going to lose you. Though, it wasn't long until you two emerged into a hallway that was similar to before.

You were staring straight ahead, heels clicking angrily as the skirt of your dress rapidly swished with every harsh step.

Oh you were pissed.

"Did I do something?"

"You shouldn't be distracted on the job," you said, tone clipped.

"But I wasn't distracted," he defended, his frown deepening.

"Flirting, distracted, same thing," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "It's not the time to woo girls. This is not a frat party."

Flirting? Woo girls?

"But I wasn't flirt—wait," he paused, his smile breaking out as realization dawned on him.

He could be quite oblivious sometimes, but he was not dumb. This wasn't going over his head, not when the way you were acting looked far too familiar. He'd seen the same thing happen only a couple of minutes ago, after all.

Because you weren't angry. 

Much like how he wasn't angry moments before your dance.

Peter stopped, looking at you carefully with arms crossed over his chest, smirking as he quoted your words,

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous."

You halted in your tracks, shoulders straightening with a huff before you continued walking.

It told Peter everything he needed to know.

He couldn't wipe off his smirk, pride bubbling in his chest, confidence boosted that little bit more as he jogged after you.

"There's going to be two guards at the door," you instructed monotonously once he reached your side, eyes avoiding him. "I'll distract one. You take care of the other one."

Peter stood straighter with a salute, still grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes ma'am."

You rolled your eyes, but he didn't miss the way the corner of your lips quirked up.

•••

"Excuse me, ma'am, this area is restricted."

"Oh, dear! My apologies, is this not where the bathroom is?" you gasped, and Peter was impressed at how clueless you sounded. If he didn't know you beforehand, he never would've guessed that you'd be one of the most elite and smartest spies there ever was. "Would either of you fine gentlemen guide me to where it is?"

Peter heard the two guards grumble before one spoke up gruffly, "Go. I've got this covered,"

"Yay!" you giggled, clapping your hands excitedly. "Thank you so much!"

Peter couldn't stop his grin at how cute you were.

When you and the other guard were out of sight, Peter made a run for it. Guard Two only caught a split-second glimpse of him before his fist harshly connected with their jaw, wincing when he heard a faint crack.

"Sorry," Peter whispered with a grimace, standing straight and adjusting his glasses. "Didn't mean to hit that hard."

He quickly turned towards the sound of grunts and hisses, fists colliding against muscles and then a body falling onto the floor. He rushed towards where you disappeared, entering the hallway just in time to see you fixing up your dress. Your eyes met his when he walked over to you, your smile sweet yet proud.

"Need a lil help carrying this guy," you said, gesturing behind you.

He nodded with a chuckle, eyes trained on your face once he reached your side before his brows furrowed.

"You got a little—" Before he could think about it, he reached a hand up, thumb rubbing over the corner of your mouth, attempting to get rid of the smudged lipstick.

He couldn't help but stare, easily putting him in a trance as he smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it away slightly before letting it plop back, your warm breath tickling his skin when your lips parted.

Your little outburst of jealousy earlier might've boosted his confidence a lot more than he'd initially let on.

"Peter," you murmured. "The guard."

"Oh! Right," he cleared his throat, moving over to the unconscious guard, hauling them over his shoulder effortlessly as if they weighed nothing. He walked over to the second guard, doing the same over his other shoulder. When he turned around, he saw you standing there, brow raised. He shrugged, smirking. "Super strength."

You shook your head, rolling your eyes, "Show off."

Peter laughed.

After carrying both guards into the room—unlocked thanks to their keycards and fingerprints—you busied yourself with their weapons.

Peter was looking through the various crates and boxes, all labeled with familiar and not-so-familiar logos, some in different languages, while others were completely blank. Some items weren't hidden at all, from high-tech guns in glass displays to alien guns in wooden crates, various iterations of vibranium shields, and holy shit, is that a Wakandan spear?

"Where the hell did they get all of these? This is so much ammo in one room—"

Peter's words died in his throat when his eyes landed on you.

You were leaning over, one foot resting on one of the boxes on the floor, your fingers grazing your leg as you carefully pulled your skirt up inch by tempting inch until your thigh was exposed to him. Your gun holster later came into view, the straps squeezing the supple flesh tightly and fuck—

Peter had never wanted to be an inanimate object so badly ever in his life.

He quickly averted his gaze when you pulled your skirt back down. He pretended to read the labels on some crates as he cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt because Jesus it's getting really hot in here.

"Take this," you said, walking over to him with your hand extended, your fingers curled around the barrel of a gun.

Peter's eyes widened as he looked at the gun and then at you. "We haven't gotten to this part of my training yet."

"Come on, you've seen some movies."

"Since when did movies become tutorials?"

You stared at him for a moment, shaking your head with a chuckle before holding up the gun before him to demonstrate.

"Safety on when you don't want to shoot, safety off when you want to shoot," you said, flicking the pin on the side of the gun. "Cock it only once. It's semi-automatic so after that, all you need is to pull the trigger for continuous shots. Grip with two hands, dominant hand tight around it, other hand on top. Don't try to be arrogant by holding it with only one, especially when you've never fired a gun in your life. Point and shoot, simple. Make sure you aim at the bad guy, though."

You took his hand and placed the gun in his palm, smiling at him sweetly as if you hadn't just given him a loaded weapon.

"Got it?"

Peter stared at you dumbfounded, gulping as he held it to his chest, "That's definitely not all there is to it when using a gun."

"Hey, don't worry," you said reassuringly, squeezing his shoulder. "It's just for precaution. You might not even need to use it."

Peter nodded with a sigh, staring at the gun in his hand before he slipped into the hem of his pants, snuggly kept there by his belt.

Rookie mistake.

"Make sure the safety is on before you put it there, wouldn't want an accident to happen."

Peter froze before he quickly pulled it out, aiming the barrel as far away from him as possible.

He groaned in utter embarrassment when you laughed.

"Can you just carry it for me?" he asked, pouting for good measure. "Please?"

"You're fine," you giggled, gesturing at your leg. "And I only have one thigh holster."

Yeah. I saw.

"I really don't want to shoot myself in the balls," he said, physically shuddering as he screwed his eyes shut. "And I think you're aware of how clumsy I get sometimes."

You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you moved back toward one of the unconscious guards. Peter watched you curiously as you started checking their suits, a faint 'aha!' leaving your lips before you started taking one of their jackets off.

Peter's brows shot up. "What are you—"

"Jacket off," you interjected, showing him a shoulder holster. He did as told as you walked back to him. You helped him slip the harness on, clicking buckles and adjusting the straps before taking his gun and slotting it in soon after. You tilted your head as you smooth it over him. "Better?"

"Much," he breathed out, smiling at you gratefully as he slipped his jacket back on. "Thanks."

You returned his grin, patting his chest before you went and looked for the safe.

Which didn't take too long.

"They could've at least made it inconspicuous, shit's too easy," you scoffed, gesturing at the safe that had a huge American flag on it, stars and eagles, too, as if it wasn't obvious enough. You looked at him with a knowing smile. "Do your magic."

Peter squatted in front of it, taking his glasses off and twisting the nose bridge. There was a soft whirring sound before the glasses turned into a mini, android spider.

Carbon-based nanotech will always impress him. Imperceptible to metal detectors all while never losing its function and durability.

"Of course it's a tiny spider," you muttered, delight laced in your tone.

"What?" He looked at you over his shoulder with a teasing pout, holding up the spider in his palm. "You don't like him?"

You purse your lips, shaking your head before meeting his eyes. "He's cute."

"And hopefully he works, too," he said, turning back to the safe before carefully placing the little guy on the keypad. It took a few moments for the mechanical spider to do its thing. Peter let out the breath he was holding when the safe opened without a hitch. He looked at you with a grin, gesturing at the device inside. "Voilà."

You scrunched up your face. "And that proves that you can't be good at everything."

"Hey!" he gasped. "It wasn't that bad."

"Just leave the French accent alone," you teased, though your eyes were shining with admiration. "But that brain of yours is definitely something else."

Peter blushed, waving your compliment off, "Nah, it's just—"

"Shut up, Parker," you scoffed playfully, but your smile was genuine. "You're incredibly smart and annoyingly amazing. It's not up for discussion."

"Thanks," he chuckled shyly, cheeks turning redder. He gestured at the nuclear football, before looking up at you. "You have the decoy, right?"

"Oh, right." You nodded, reaching into the neckline of your dress before you pulled the rectangular device out, showing it to him with a proud grin.

Peter stared at you, mouth agape.

"What?" you snorted, shaking your head at his surprised face. "I don't have pockets!"

"You could've asked me to carry it."

"I can't exactly bring you with me into the ladies' restroom now, can I?" you said, shrugging. "And I couldn't just hand it to you in the middle of the ballroom with all those people."

"Touché," he hummed, taking the device from your hands. His brows furrowed as he turned it in his palm. "Is it supposed to be warm?"

"It's been with the girls in the past hour or so, of course it's going to be warm."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he tried not to let his curious thoughts wander.

He was failing, though. Miserably so.

Because holding the device when it's been in your boobs made him wonder exactly how warm your boobs would actually feel if it was direct contact, right in the palm of his—

"What?" you asked, none the wiser, briefly. Because then it was immediate, the realization crossing your face, probably noticing just how red his face had gotten. "Oh my god—Peter!"

"Sorry!" he squeaked, hurriedly turning his back on you, focusing on the task at hand.

"My boobs are clean, by the way."

"That wasn't the route my thoughts went to," he grumbled.

"Yeah, I figured," you giggled. "Just wanted to confirm."

He rolled his eyes even though you couldn't see him.

Focus. You got this.

But just as he was about to switch the devices, you moved closer to him, bending over until you were at eye level with the safe, your scent overpowering to the point of being distracting.

"Y/N," Peter sighed, head hanging low as his hand fell onto his sides. "You're making me really nervous when you're breathing down my neck."

"Sorry! Sorry," you laughed, heels clicking as you moved further behind him. "I'll just…step back."

With bated breath yet careful fingers, Peter swiftly switched the devices, blowing out his cheeks in relief when nothing happened.

"Great job, Pete."

He shot you a smile over his shoulder and closed the safe, letting his spider friend reverse its steps before taking him off the safe, pressing its tiny tummy for it to turn back into glasses.

Peter put it back on, running his fingers through his hair before turning to you.

You beamed and held out your palm.

But just as he was about to hand you the device, he quickly pulled it back with narrowed eyes.

"Are you putting this in your boobs again?"

You stared at him in amusement. "I didn't grow any pockets at the last minute, so yes."

"Don't you think it's dangerous?" he reasoned, carefully waving the device to get his point across. "I mean, this is the real thing."

"It's not radioactive," you chuckled. "It's not going to suddenly blow up."

"We don't know that—"

"Hey, don't worry," you hummed, your reassuring smile turning mischievous. "I'll still have my boobs at the end of this mission."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm concerned about you, like, as a whole person."

"Yeah, I know, and that includes my boobs."

He groaned, "Is this becoming a thing?"

You shook your head, laughing, "No, no, I just didn't think I'd find out that you're a boob guy, during a mission, no less."

"I'm not a boob guy," he scoffed.

Peter was a you guy, to be honest, as in you as a whole person—eyes, boobs, lips, butt, thighs, everything included.

And personality, obviously.

You laughed, leaning close to kiss him on the cheek, throwing him off-guard that you were able to take the device from him without breaking a sweat.

Peter sighed in defeat.

He really wasn't any better than any of the guards in this building.

"Come on," you called, hands now free, the device properly hidden with 'the girls' as you opened the door for him. "We need to get going."

•••

You both were navigating your way back into the ballroom when the hairs on the back of Peter's neck stood up.

"People incoming," he warned, grabbing your hand as you pulled you down a hallway. His enhanced hearing just about picked up the sound of guns being loaded. "Armed."

"How many?" you asked, your free hand picking up your skirt as you walked even faster.

He tried to listen closely, calculating the footsteps that echoed down the hall sans both of yours

"Four," he confirmed, brow raising. "Maybe Five."

"That's too many. The minute they'll see us, they're going to get suspicious. It's going to be too late for both of us to take all of them down without at least one sending a signal," you rushed, testing out every door down the halls in hopes that you'd get lucky. "We need to find a place to hide."

"Shit," Peter cursed, looking from left to right of the hall. "They're coming from both sides."

"In here!"

He wasn't given much to process your words when you all but grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pushed him inside a room. The space was quick to grow smaller when you followed suit, your dress knocking over a broom on your way in.

Of course it had to be a janitor's closet.

As if his life wasn't already filled with enough clichés.

Peter grabbed the handle to pull the door close, darkness swallowing you both as it clicked shut. He felt around the metal knob only for his fingers to fall on an entirely flat surface.

"There's no lock," he said, so deathly confused. "What kind of door has no lock?"

"Quiet!" you hissed, pressing your palm over his mouth.

Peter stared at you wide-eyed, his pupils slowly adjusting to the lack of light that he was only now able to gauge just how close you two were.

"Listen," you whispered.

He nodded, closing his eyes as he concentrated on distinguishing the voices.

"The guards have been knocked out."

"Nothing is missing in the room."

"Still, check everything. Be on high alert for anything out of the ordinary."

Peter's eyes snapped open, panic settling in as he heard the footsteps growing nearer.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, voice muffled by your palm. You removed your hand, eyes confused yet expectant. He explained in hurried whispers, "They're not suspicious of anything being stolen yet but they're coming this way. If we get caught, they're going to immediately find out what we're up to and we're doomed."

Peter watched as your face went through different types of emotions. First, it was worry, a flicker of panic crossing your eyes only to be replaced by something else entirely. The crease between your brows deepened, lips pursed as you tilted your head.

It was that all too familiar thinking face he'd grown to adore.

A second later, your brows shot up, eyes wide, and—if he didn't know any better—twinkling as if a light bulb lit up on top of your head.

"Not unless we make them believe we're just some couple needing a quick fix."

"What?" Peter asked, confused.

You only gave him a sheepish smile and a barely-there whisper of,

"I'm sorry."

Peter wasn't given the time to ask what you were apologizing for when you suddenly grabbed him by the nape of his neck and crashed your lips against his.

He stumbled, his back hitting the shelves. Although the way his head was spinning was definitely not because of the impact.

Peter groaned, kissing you back immediately and with fervor, his hands gripping your waist, head tilting as he pulled you closer.

He shivered when your hand moved down his chest before moving inside his jacket, only realizing that you were slipping the nuclear football between the holster, tugging the straps a little tighter to stop it from slipping out.

Then, you guided his hands, much like with your dance earlier. Yet this time, one landed on your exposed thigh as you hiked your leg against his waist, placing the other on top of your ass.

Peter felt like he was about to faint.

But with every bit of respect he had for you—which was a lot—he still hesitated. 

He was unsure as to how far he was allowed to go, deeply worried to cross the line of no return. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable by pushing your boundaries.

He also didn't want to ruin everything he had with you. Whether that was you being his friend or you being his teammate, he really didn't want to lose any of it.

Peter didn't want to lose you.

"It's okay," you whispered against his lips, probably sensing his inner turmoil. "Touch me, Peter."

That was the last thing that made any sliver of his self-control snap.

He growled, squeezing your ass and your thigh simultaneously, pulling your body flush against his as if you could go any closer.

Your gasp was met by a low groan, your hand fisting his jacket as the other took home in his styled hair.

The door swung open, a momentary stream of light illuminating the tiny room. There was a disgusted growl before the door slammed close, darkness covering you both again but neither of you stopped.

Peter gripped your hips, pushing you back slightly until you were the one pressed against the closed door. He cupped the back of your neck, arm curling your waist as he slotted his thigh in between yours in a desperate need to be inhumanly closer.

Your soft moan just about made his knees buckle.

It also made him feel daring enough to gently tease his tongue against your bottom lip. You let him in with his ease, both of you moaning as your tongues did their own dance inside your mouth.

It was intoxicating.

The faint taste of champagne mixing with the taste of you. 

It was something that Peter probably spent a great amount of time thinking about yet nothing in his imagination ever came close. No matter what his brain had conjured in the past, it could never do you justice.

It was addicting.

Your pretty little sighs in response to his soft groans, how you were everywhere, your scent, your taste, your overwhelming warmth engulfing his very being. Peter was drowning in all things you, the very thing that could make him breathe again.

It was too much, yet he needed more.

You were so close, but not close enough.

Peter's hands glided down your body until he was cupping your ass, their warmth settling on each of his palms. But just as he was about to tell you to jump up into his arms, you placed a firm hand on his chest.

Your lips detached with a soft pop, the back of your head softly thumping against the door. You gasped for air, hands fisting his jacket before you rested your forehead against his.

He really needed to remember the fact that he could hold his breath longer than any average human could.

Peter put his hands back on your waist, fingers squeezing as he nudged your nose.

"Y/N, I—"

"Like you, too."

Peter's eyes widened, head pulling back as he stared at you in shock. Whatever confession he had left his brain, a lump caught in his throat, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he failed to string any letter into words.

Oh boy he was flustered.

The thought of you, you, someone so confident, someone who is way out of his league liking him back, him, little nerdy, dorky, stumbly old Peter Parker, it made his heart soar.

"I'm a trained spy, Pete, I know how to read people," you giggled when he stayed silent for a few seconds. "It's written all over your face. You really haven't been subtle about it the whole night, either."

"I don't think subtlety is my specialty," he whispered, a shy smile growing on his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses brushing in the sweetest of ways.

"It really isn't." You nodded in agreement with a wide smile of your own.

"So I don't think I need to be subtle about this," he started, gaze holding yours. He was nervous, but if he didn't say this out loud, he might just explode. "I'm falling for you."

"You're so cliché," you giggled, his cheeks growing hot, his whole body melting, his heart jumping out of his chest and landing straight into the palm of your hand when you added, "I'm falling for you, too."

"Really?" he asked, surprised yet his voice came out a little shy.

It was obvious enough. The words had been said. But he wanted to make sure because this just seemed like one big lucid dream and he'd actually die if he were to wake up any moment now.

"I mean, I haven't been subtle about it either," you giggled, kissing him briefly yet sweetly, brushing your nose with his as you breathed out, "But yeah, I do. I feel so strongly for you Peter that I just—I feel nervous, I feel giddy, I feel safe and appreciated and I just feel so, so happy whenever I'm around you and I just, whatever I did in the past didn't matter because you accept me for me and I trust that you've got the best intentions, I trust you with my life, and you're just the sweetest most thoughtful and I'm just glad to have known you and—" you paused, shaking your head with a soft laugh, "I'm such a sap."

God this felt like a dream come true.

"I like you being a sap," he chuckled shyly. "But I'm just…me, though."

"Exactly," you confirmed, smile genuinely laced with pride. "You're brilliant, Peter Parker. How can I not fall for you?"

Peter's cheeks were starting to hurt with how wide his smile was, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.

"You're so way out of my league," he whispered, arms wrapping around your waist.

"I could say the exact same thing to you," you giggled, pecking his lips. "But let's debate about this another time, yeah? We still got some codes to find and a bad guy to catch," you said, turning around swiftly to face the door before he could even have a chance to stop you.

"Wait, don't—" Peter sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on your waist tightening as his face landed on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. Your back was against his chest, bodies pressed up far too close. "—move," he lowly groaned against your skin.

"Oh."

Peter felt his whole body heat up from embarrassment. Because he knew you could definitely feel it behind you. He could hear the fast pace of your heart, and if that wasn't a tell-tale sign, he didn't know what was. And no matter how much he tried to pull away, even just slightly, the small space of the closet wasn't letting him do so.

"I'm sorry, I am so, so, so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen I—"

He tried to move away from you again, but clumsily elbowed the shelf on his right instead which made a few empty buckets topple over from the top. He quickly pulled you back to avoid you getting hit by the falling cleaning supplies, but in turn, it made your ass press against him a little harder.

"Fuck," he groaned, body going rigid when you gasped. You probably think he was a proper pervert now. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that either. And I tried to control it I swear but it's just—my senses are enhanced and you're so close and that kiss was really hot and you're even hotter and your ass really feels nice in my hands—shit! I shouldn't have said that, I should not have said that. I mean not! Not that it's untrue, it's very, very true. You've got a really pretty and nice ass and I should really shut up goddammit—"

You cut him off with a giggle, head tilting to the side as your fingers reached up, burying it in his now messy brown hair.

"I feel flattered that a kiss got you this excited," you teased, earning a soft whine from him.

"It's not just a kiss when I've been wanting to do it for so long," Peter confessed, kissing your shoulder softly before he mumbled, "And it's not my fault that you're out here looking like a goddess."

"Look at you," you giggled, squeezing his forearm that was wrapped around your waist. "That expensive suit is really doing wonders with your smoothness, huh?"

"It brings out the suave in me," he hummed, grinning. "Makes my eyes pop, too."

You let out a sweet, hearty laugh.

Peter chuckled, heart warming as he buried his face into your neck.

"How about you take this because I really don't want to accidentally drop it," he started, pulling the device out of his jacket and handing it over to you, kissing your shoulder with a deep breath, "And just give me a second to calm down."

You giggled.

But what you said next did anything but help.

"Yes, sir."

•••

It was quarter to seven when you both made your way down to the underground theater.

There were fewer people this time around. Peter supposed it was expected. What, with a secret auction selling dangerous weapons, you simply couldn't hand out invitations like it's free candy. It could land in the wrong hands—well, right hands, in this case.

He fiddled with the card inside his pocket, free fingers pushing up his glasses, eyes narrowed at the guards by the entrance.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, noticing how they were ushering people into the theater individually. "I think it's a card for each person and we only have one—"

Peter stopped when he found no sign of you.

"You're not supposed to disappear without letting me know," he said through his comms.

He heard you giggle in response, "I was supposed to be back before you even notice."

"Point still stands," he grumbled. "Where are you?"

Peter grinned when he felt a familiar warmth behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

"Hi."

"Hi," he chuckled, taking your hand to pull you by his side. He circled his arm around your waist, brow raised. "Where'd you go?"

You smiled innocently, yet the proud glimmer in your eyes was unmistakable. You held a hand up, a black and silver card pinched between two fingertips.

Always ten steps ahead of him.

It made him want to push you against a nearby wall and kiss the living daylights out of you.

"Now, how'd you get that?"

You winked. "You know I have my ways."

Before Peter could respond, everyone suddenly turned around to the sound of a commotion.

"Sir, you're not allowed without an invitation," one guard said.

"But I had it!" a man with a stark white beard exclaimed, patting around his pockets, "It was here!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir."

"Well, you just lost your highest bidder!"

Peter turned back to you, impressed. "You need to teach me how to do that."

"I can't teach you all my tricks—" your laugh died once you walked by a lamp, illuminating both your faces in this otherwise dimly lit entry hall. You pulled him back under the light, your eyes widening. "Oh shit."

"What?" he asked, worried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just—" you snorted, gesturing to get him to come closer, hand cupping his cheek. "There's lipstick all over your mouth."

Peter blushed, chuckling, "Would it be so bad to just leave it?"

"You look like you just ate a can of tomato sauce."

Peter pouted.

You shook your head with a laugh, thumbs brushing as much lipstick stain as you could. Just when he thought you were done, you cupped his face, pulling him closer to kiss him firmly on the cheek.

"There," you hummed, giggling, "Since you want my lipstick on you so bad."

"It's hot," Peter shamelessly admitted with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but grinned anyway, taking his hand and pulling towards the entrance.

"Come on. Let's go spend the millions we don't have."

•••

It took a few more minutes for everyone to settle in their seats. You and Peter choose the front-right corner. It was near the stage but not at the center of attention.

As the clock struck seven, the main stage lights lit up. There were a couple of marble statues littered across—for decoration he assumed—and vases filled with wildflowers he could never name. Right at the center was a white podium, a huge projector screen behind it.

Then, a flash of gold appeared on the stage.

Peter immediately knew who they were.

"Welcome, everyone," the Auclair twins said in sync.

"Why is it always evil twins?" he said.

Obviously, he knew about Halbert, he was the one who gave him the card. But he didn't expect his twin sister to be in on it, too. But then again, the guy seemed to be all beauty with no brains.

And no, he wasn't biased.

"I knew there was something off about her," you scoffed, arms crossed over your chest, pout prominent as you glared at the stage. You were starting to look like you were throwing a tantrum. But Peter decided not to say anything.

Yet.

"I think you all know why we've gathered here so I won't bother you with unnecessary semantics," Greta started, waving her hand at the projector, now showing a live feed of the room you broke into earlier. "Any or all of those high-grade toys could be yours tonight, if you're willing to empty out your pockets, of course. But, to lift everyone's spirits up," Greta paused, giggling wickedly as she dug her fingers into the neckline of her dress, procuring the star of the night, and the bane of yours and Peter's existence.

"The Gold Codes and the nuclear football, available for bidding at the end of the night," she purred, waving the card around as if it wasn't one the most dangerous items on the planet. "We have to save the best for last, of course."

"So hiding things in your boobs is a common thing then," Peter said, catching the sour look on your face from the corner of his eye. He was trying really hard to bite back his smirk.

"So you found the codes before anyone else did."

"What?" Peter looked at you confused. "But I didn't."

"You did," you said, jaw ticking. "You just didn't know you were already looking at it."

It took Peter a moment.

"I was not looking at her boobs."

"Sure you weren't," you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Darling," he drawled teasingly, playing up the accent, the fire in your glare unmistakable as you met his eyes. He pinched your chin between his forefinger and thumb with a grin. "You've got nothing to be jealous of."

Huffing, you pulled your face off his grasp, "Shut up."

"You know," he started, daringly throwing his arm over your shoulder. You were never one to cross when you were angry. But Peter simply wanted to have some harmless fun. After all, this was the first time he'd ever seen you like this. "I still haven't decided if you're cute or hot when you're jealous."

"Don't tempt me to punch you."

He chuckled, leaning to press his lips against your temple. His smile widened when he felt your whole body relax beside him.

"So, what’s the plan?" he murmured against your skin.

You shifted in your seat, resting your head on his shoulder.

"We wait until the codes and the football are up for bidding," you mumbled. "Then, I'm going to be a show-off, placing a higher bet over anyone while moving closer to the stage. Once I'm in good proximity, cause a distraction and I'll swipe the codes."

"Got it," he confirmed, flinching in his seat when he heard the bang of a hammer.

"Your numbered paddles are under your seats. Now, let's begin."

Peter had only seen auctions in movies, and they always seemed to be the most boring thing ever.

He never expected them to be as anxiety-inducing as this one.

It was probably the fact that these were dangerous and deadly weapons, carelessly sold to anyone who had the money to buy them. 

His heart would sink every time he'd hear that fucking hammer.

Peter was fidgeting with the bridge of his glasses, eyes sharply trained on the stolen Chitauri gun being wheeled off the stage.

"Relax," you whispered, hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing. "We've got backup near the premises. Once we secure the codes, they'll immediately interfere. None of those weapons are getting out of this building."

"They're buying it like it's candy," Peter grumbled frustratingly. "As if lives won't be put at risk if it gets out there."

"Next up, Oscorp's drone satellite," Greta introduced excitedly. "Bigger, better, deadlier than the one by Stark Industries."

Peter's fist clenched. "Why do they always find the need to one-up each other?"

"Egomaniac billionaires," you supplied, hand curling around his fist, bringing his knuckles up to your lips before you intertwined your fingers together.

It helped him calm down a little.

"Things are starting to get boring, don't we think?" Greta laughed, waving around the controller. It was either she wasn't aware of how dangerous the device in her hand was, or she simply didn't care. Her wicked grin told Peter it was the latter. "So how about we do a little test run?"

"Shit," he cursed, sitting upright. "That's not part of the plan."

"You're the faster one," you said, tone calm as you tugged your skirt discreetly and pulled your gun out. "When I give the signal, immediately run towards her and secure codes."

"What signal?"

You stood up, gun raised.

Everyone froze as you shot at the wires that held the scaffolding that was hanging on top of the stage. It immediately gave way, dropping onto the wooden stage and blocking both exits on each side.

Chaos erupted then.

The people running towards the small entryway made it difficult for the guards to get in right away.

But Peter was still staring at you in shock.

"Go!"

He snapped out of it, taking long strides towards the stage, reaching the twins just in time before they could even manage to escape.

"Mr. Reid," Halbert chuckled darkly, pushing Greta right behind him before pulling out a revolver. "You should've bought a gun."

"Well, good thing I did," Peter quipped, reaching inside his holster only to find nothing. He looked up, eyes wide. "Shit. I dropped it."

"Oh my God—" Peter heard you groan in disappointment, and he could practically hear that eye roll.

He would've found the time to be embarrassed if Halbert hadn't started shooting at him. He dodged every bullet easily. His enhanced reflexes paired with how inaccurate this guy's aim was, it wasn't really much of a challenge.

And no, he wasn't showing off.

Okay, maybe a little bit.

Peter couldn't stop his chuckle when he heard the familiar clicking of an empty cylinder.

"Well, looks like I didn’t even need one," he bragged as he stalked towards Halbert, yanking the gun out of his hold before hitting him on the side of the head with the butt of his own gun, rendering him unconscious. He turned to Greta with a mocking tut, "Your twin isn't the wisest, isn't he?"

"No," she scoffed, smile widening as she glanced over his shoulder. "But he bought us time."

Peter saw the entryway clear of civilians, the armed guards swiftly invading the theater.

"Shit."

A flash of red caught his eye, your sharp heels clicking rapidly before you slid on the floor, picking up the gun Peter dropped. You knelt on one knee, gun in each hand, aiming it toward the guards and raining hell on them motherfuckers.

You didn't miss a shot.

He shook his head in awe, "And you said to hold it with two hands!"

"I've fired guns since I was twelve!" you said, tilting your head to throw him a smirk. "I think I can be an exception."

How could he argue with that?

Peter swerved to the right, heart thumping as the glint of a knife covered his periphery. He grabbed their wrist, pulling him forward in one swift motion and throwing the culprit towards the seats.

"Who brings a knife to a gunfight?" he huffed as he kicked away the knife that fell out of their hand.

Peter's attention got stolen by your growl.

His eyes landed on you just in time to see you grab a man's forearm from behind, using all your body weight and the right momentum to throw him over your shoulder, a pained scream when you undoubtedly dislodged his arm, the knife clinking onto the floor. You kicked the guy on the head, his eyes rolling back as he turned limp. You stepped on the knife's handle to fling it into the air, catching it with your left hand before flipping to your right, holding your skirt taught before cutting a new slit on your skirt. Then, you spun, red dress flowing with the motion as you kicked the guy running towards you on the side of his throat.

If Peter wasn't in love before, he sure as hell was now.

"What?" you panted when you caught his gaze, brows furrowed.

"That was so hot," Peter breathed out, your eyes rolling for the umpteenth time before they suddenly widened.

"Down!"

He ducked as you threw the knife, the blade soaring past him and landing into the guy's shoulder, the gun that was aimed at Peter's distracted ass dropping onto the floor.

He looked back at you in absolute wonder.

And did his pants grow a little tighter?

"Will you marry me?"

"Jesus—focus!"

"Is that a 'no'?!" he called out teasingly, elbowing one guy on the chin before hurling his unconscious body toward his allies. He called it the bowling move. Taking a gun from the floor, he turned to you with a pout. "Can't believe you'd reject me, babe!"

"Kinda in the middle of something here!" you yelled back, shooting a guy on the leg before knocking him out with the butt of your gun. You stood straight with a deep breath, tilting your head with your lips pursed before nodding behind him. "How about you help me get those codes first?"

Peter turned, seeing Greta dragging her twin towards the side exit.

"Oh yeah, right," he chuckled sheepishly before going after her. "My bad!"

Fully catching him off guard, Peter flew forward and landed on his chest when Greta swiped his legs. He rolled onto his back, narrowly avoiding the six-inch heel she dug into the floor where his head was supposed to be.

"So you can fight," he breathed out, doing a kip up to get back on his feet.

"I bite too," she hummed, winking. "And I've been wanting to sink my teeth into you, pretty boy."

"Uh, thanks?" he chuckled dryly, face scrunched up. He swerved the knife she threw at him, looking back only to see she got two more, one on each hand. He sighed, "Great. You throw knives."

"What?" she asked, tone mocking as she flipped one in the air, catching the blade in between her fingers with ease. "You don't like knife play?"

"That doesn't sound like fun," he grumbled, running towards her, swiftly ducking as she kicked her leg before grabbing her by the ankles.

Greta fell on the floor with a thud, yet she was quick to kick his knee with her other foot, Peter hissing as her sharp heel dug into his skin. She used this slim window to pull her leg forward, dragging Peter with it and making him land right on top of her.

"Quite a handsome face. Maybe we can go out for dinner sometime," she purred, running her tongue over her lip as she traced his jaw with a knife, sharp tip teasing his throat. "The real party happens later in the night, of course."

"Yeah, no thanks," he breathed out, pulling his head back and quickly grabbing her arms, flipping her onto her stomach in one swift motion. Peter pinned her down using his body weight as he knocked the knives out of her hands. He pulled her wrist towards her back, his knees tight on either side of her hips as he sat up. Holding her wrists with one hand, he undid his necktie with the other, tying her up securely before letting go.

"Kinky," she huffed out a giggle.

Peter rolled his eyes, pulling her up by the shoulders until she was seated on the floor. He walked around, dusting off his suit and adjusting his glasses—they got sticky tape on the sides to not let them fall off during fights. He thought about this ahead, thank you very much—as he stood in front of her.

"I guess it's true what they say about the quiet ones," she said, head tilted as she shamelessly ran her eyes down his body before meeting his eyes. "You're a different kind of man, Lucas Reid."

"The name's Parker," he said with a deep voice as he buttoned up his jacket with the utmost seriousness on his face. "Peter Parker."

You scoffed loudly.

Peter immediately spun, his landing eyes on your figure standing behind him, your jaw tight, arms crossed over your chest, a scowl on your pretty face with that fiery glare to match.

Oh you were pissed.

But Peter had a feeling it wasn't at him.

"You've been itching to do that the whole night, have you?"

"Maybe," he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, nodding towards Greta.

"Just take the codes."

Peter stared at you like you'd grown a second head.

"What?" you asked, voice taut, so clearly getting annoyed.

"You take the codes."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because I respect women?"

You blinked a few times before dropping your head with an exasperated groan.

"What? You know where it's hidden!" he exclaimed in defense, gesturing towards the bound woman. "I'm not just slipping my hand in there!"

"I have a feeling she won't mind," you muttered to yourself, but thanks to his enhanced hearing, he heard you loud and clear. "You've practically been humping each other."

Peter decided to keep quiet, scared that you'd actually punch him this time.

Though the glare you shot him was proof that you knew he heard you.

You shook your head, another eye roll before you walked over to Greta, bending at the waist until your face was level with hers.

"Let’s make this quick. Left or right?" you asked.

"Dégage, salope," she hissed.

You gasped, hand over your mouth in feigned shock. "Now, that's not nice."

"Wait, what did she say?" Peter asked as he stood by the sidelines, not too close but not too far. He was giving you the space to do your thing.

"She called me a bitch," you cooed, pouting condescendingly. "Fine. Since you don't want to make this easier for us—"

Before Peter could even question what you were about to do, you stomped on a knife, catching the handle mid-air and straight up slashing the blade in front of Greta.

"Woah!"

Peter downright expected you to have chopped her whole head off—okay, maybe slit her throat because the knife wasn't that big.

But nothing happened.

No chopping, no slicing, no blood, nothing.

Well, not until a split second later when Greta gasped, the top half of her—really expensive, he assumed—dress sliding down her body.

Peter looked away immediately, face hot as he screwed his eyes shut, turning his back on her for good measure.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he muttered, taking his glasses off to rub his face with his palm.

But he couldn't wipe his smile off.

Peter knew you could take the codes without having to cut her dress. You were simply being petty. And it was safe to assume it had something to do with the way Greta had been shamelessly flirting with him for the whole night.

Your jealousy fed his ego a little bit.

"You can look now," you said, tone low. "She's covered."

"Are you sure?"

You scoffed, "It's not like you don't want to see it, anyway."

Peter swiftly turned, only catching a glimpse of Greta now wearing Halbert's jacket with the matching gold tie gagging her mouth.

He immediately turned to you who was standing to the side, looking anywhere else but at him. He walked over, rubbing up and down your arms until you uncrossed them. He pulled you closer by the waist, nudging your nose while mirroring your pout.

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad."

"Then why did you do that?"

"I had to get the codes."

"Yeah, but it didn't have to involve boobage exposure."

"Boobage exposure," you snorted, the corner of your lip twitching as you finally met his eyes. "I feel like that's something you enjoy."

"I didn't even look!" he defended, his smile widening when you tried your best to hide yours. "I promise. I didn't want to, either."

You shook your head, sighing, "You're such an annoying dork."

"Your annoying dork."

That made your smile appear.

"My dork, huh?" you hummed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Peter smiled, pulling you closer, tip of his nose brushing yours. "Well, if you'll have me, that is."

"Have you as what, exactly?"

"Your boyfriend," he said, slightly surprised by his own boldness. But then again, you two had already established what you felt for each other. The fear of rejection wasn't there anymore. Shaking his head with a smile, he added, "Wait, answer that on our date this Friday?"

"Love the newfound confidence, Agent Parker," you said, giggling. "And yes, to both questions,"

"I really like the sound of Agent Parker," he hummed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Am I a certified spy now?"

"Eh, if you don't drop your gun next time, then sure."

"Come on," he sighed, pouting. "I could use a name change, you know, like Spy-Dork-Man."

Peter burst out laughing when you physically cringed.

"Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't kick you because of that god awful pun."

"Because I'm your dork now, bad puns included, so you're going to have to get used to it from early doors."

"Touché," you laughed.

Peter looked at you adoringly, but just as he was about to kiss you, a sudden ruckus of applause made you both jump, stance on defense reflexively.

It was the team, right in front of the stage, clapping and wolf-whistling like a bunch of assholes.

Peter groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

"About time you two solved this…tension you have," Wanda said as she reached the stage, gesturing at the two of you before she held her hand out to Bucky. "Hand it over, Super Soldier. She technically kissed him first,"

"Maybe I shouldn't have held Sam back from unmuting the line in the closet," Bucky sighed, pulling out his wallet and handing over twenty dollars.

"You had a bet?" you gaped at the two of them.

Peter turned to Sam. "You tried to interrupt us again?"

"I wouldn't have to if you guys didn't constantly forget that your comms aren't reserved for the two of you only," the Captain chuckled.

"You guys were so cute, though," Wanda said with a smile.

"The smooching sounds were a bit much." Bucky grimaced.

"Don't forget the abundant talk about boobs and ass," Harley laughed, appearing from behind everyone with a bag in hand. "Good thing you finally grew those balls though, Parker. I've grown really tired of hearing you whine about your obsession—sorry, I mean, crush on her."

"Shut up, man," Peter groaned, burying his face back on your shoulder to hide.

"Leave him alone," you laughed, rubbing his back in comfort.

"I wished I could've hacked the cams earlier so it would've been like watching a James Bond movie meets rom-com live," Harley said. "But the audio was good, popcorns still definitely enjoyed."

"Lives were on the line and you guys enjoyed popcorn," you deadpanned.

Sam laughed as he patted both of your backs. "Nah, we just knew you two got it handled."

"What are you guys doing here then?" Peter countered, glaring at them.

"Clean up," Wanda said, cracking her fingers before adding, "I also need to erase your faces off of people's memories because blowing your covers wasn't exactly part of the plan."

"And this guy practically gave out his real name," Bucky chuckled, patting Peter's shoulder before moving over to the unconscious men lying on the floor.

"I couldn't let the opportunity slip!" Peter protested. "It's probably going to be my only James Bond moment, I had to take it."

"That was pretty stupid," you said, scrunching your face at him with a laugh.

"I know that now, thanks," he grumbled.

"Here." Harley tossed him his web shooters and mask, and Peter felt a sense of comfort as he snapped them onto his wrists.

"Pete, you think you can swing us home?" you asked, slipping your fingers into his.

"Yeah, of course," he chuckled, squeezing your hand. He could definitely get used to feeling your affectionate touch constantly.

"Right, we're going to leave this to you guys, now bye!" you called out before you all but dragged him towards the exit, Peter's groan and your laugh echoing down the hall when Sam yelled,

"Use protection!"

•••

You both were honestly too tired to even attempt and continue what started in the closet.

Well, you did try to.

When you landed back at the compound, you both decided to go to your separate rooms and take much-needed hot showers first. But getting to your quarters in itself probably took around ten minutes, all because Peter simply couldn't help but stop every couple of meters down the halls, pressing you against the nearest wall to kiss you senseless.

It took you shutting the door on his face for you both to finally wash off the sweat and grime of the day.

After he was all cleaned and clothed, he didn't waste any time making his way out of his room. But when he opened the door, you were already standing there, fist in the air, mid-knock.

Peter chuckled as he grabbed your waist and pulled you into his room, giggles and satisfied sighs bouncing off his walls as his lips covered your own. He grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you with ease, a murmured comment from you about him showing off his super strength as he carried you to his bed.

But the second you both hit the mattress, it was simply far too comfy and soft that the intense heat of the kiss gradually simmered into a mellow warmth. His body was covering yours, fingers intertwined, lips moving slowly, lazily yet just as sweet. 

And after a few more moments of you two languidly kissing, you ended up settling with cuddles for the night.

Now, here you were, being the little spoon with your back pressed against his chest, limbs tangled, bodies warm and snug under the covers. He was drawing lazy circles on your stomach, his eyes growing heavier with each rise and fall of your chest, the steady beat of your heart lulling him.

Peter thought you were already fast asleep. And he was just about to follow suit until you spoke up,

"Are your hands cold?"

"Not really," he murmured, voice a little rough. "Why?"

"You can always use my boobs in case you need to warm them up."

He groaned, burying his face onto your shoulder. "Are you ever going to let this go?"

"What?" you giggled softly. "You just seemed so interested in their warmth earlier. I'm allowing you to quell your curiosity."

Peter lifted himself a little, just so he could get a clear view of your face.

"Is this a genuine invitation for me to cup your boobs?"

"Only if you wanna," you said, turning to him with a soft smile, eyes half-lidded. "No playing, though."

He nodded with a laugh, settling behind you and gently sneaking his hand under your shirt, no pressure or anything so that you'll be able to move away whenever you wanted to. Then again, you were skilled enough to break his wrist, anyway.

But you didn't do that, not at all.

Instead, you shifted in your place, providing more space for his arm to fully wrap around your torso until he was cupping a boob in his hand.

You sighed, body melting into the mattress even more, your back warmly pressed against his chest as you nosed his pillow.

"They are really warm," he hummed, his whole body relaxing as he let his hand just…be there, without any malice whatsoever. "This is oddly comforting."

"Yeah," you mumbled, a loud yawn following suit. "Like stress balls."

Peter chuckled, "That's one way of describing it."

You hummed, yawning out a soft, "Good night, Pete."

Peter smiled. "Good night, angel."

The next response he got was your soft snores as you finally drifted off to sleep,

Peter didn't expect his night to end with you sleeping in bed with him, all cuddled up in his arms, let alone, with him cupping your boob—which he surprisingly found comforting and adorable rather than anything else.

But he did expect to fall asleep with a huge smile on his face.

And then later in the morning, the thing that would wake him up wouldn't be the sunlight anymore, it'd be your warmth, tickling his skin as you cuddle closer to him. A tired, yet satisfied smile would curl on his lips as he would bury his nose into your hair, breathing in your sweet scent. It was much more comforting, hearing your little snores and sighs, or even your occasional mumbles about whatever it was you were dreaming about.

It was new, but definitely something he could get used to.

It was going to be a peaceful Sunday morning with you, and Peter really loved that.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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