#I've never been so committed to anything in my whole life

[emedeme]

They get more and more beautiful every passing year (I try ✌)

[alwaysbethewest]

Can you please get me some washi tape and stickers?

📝 you got it

[yeonzzzn]

HIIIIII I've been thinking a lot these last few days.... heeseung being an angel (could be a fallen angel or something) falling in love with a mortal, but they can't be together because angels and human beings together are completely prohibited... a totally hot and forbidden love

— 🐇💨

I am so in love with this concept. the minute this popped up in my askbox I knew I had to write it asap. I apologize for this being so long idk what happened my fingers just wouldn’t stop typing.

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fallen angel: lee heeseung

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader word count: 7.6k

Heeseung never sinned. Ever. Never once said anything bad about anyone, never once cursed, never once gossiped, kept his emotions in check, never had a single terrible thought about someone else, never committed any crimes, and always—always—had a pure heart. 

That was until you. 

Heeseung was God's most prized angel. He did anything and everything that was asked of him. Never once defying God’s wishes or commands. His pure heart is the whole reason that when he well, died, he was the first one selected to be God’s second hand. Heeseung lived his whole life dedicated to his church and doing nothing but good. 

But you? Oh, you. You were the first temptation Heeseung ever got. 

“I have a job for you, my angel,” God spoke to him. 

Heeseung knelt down on one knee with one hand over his chest, bowing his head, “Anything for you, my savior.” 

“We have a family that needs a blessing, a pure angel to take away their worries. They are struggling hard. Go down to land and help this family. I trust you with this one, Heeseung. Please.” 

Heeseung didn’t hesitate. Nodding and accepting the job God had to offer him. 

Heeseung stretched his wings, preparing for his flight down to the mortal lands. The trip didn’t take long and the minute the tips of his shoes touched solid land, his whole outfit changed and his wings were hidden. From the bright white robes and dress shoes to tanned brown boots, light blue jeans, and a black button-up dress shirt. It was one of Heeseung’s favorite outfits to wear when he came to the mortal lands. 

He looked around the city he landed in, watching as the mortals passed by him and crossed over the street. The sounds of cars honking and people yelling filled his ears along with the smells of the city. Heeseung smiled, remembering his time as a mortal and seeing how much had changed over the thousand years he’d been away. 

Pushing away the memories of the past, Heeseung starts his walk in the direction God told him this family would be. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, smiling brightly as he walked past the mortals, none of them paying him any mind as they went about their normal lives. 

“Fuck!” 

Heeseung chuckled at the curse, shaking his head. He wasn’t used to hearing such vulgar language. His eyes searched the sea of people around him to see where I came from, his curiosity taking over him. 

You were running down the street, hairtye in your mouth as you pulled back your long hair back into a ponytail, quickly pulling the band from your mouth and twisting it in your hair. With how you were rushing, Heeseung knew you were the one he heard the curse come from. You looked down at your watch, letting more curses escape your lips, “I am going to be so fucking late! Holy fucking shit.” 

Heeseung raised his brows at the language, “Jeez…mortals never change.” He wasn’t judging, he understood life as a mortal wasn’t the easiest and everyone had their roles to play. It wasn’t his job to judge anyway, he left that up to God. 

But you kept pushing along, pulling your phone from your pocket and dialing a number, “Pick up, please for the love of fucking God pick up!” 

You were so focused on getting to your destination that you didn’t even realize you ran into Heeseung, smacking your shoulder into his. Heeseung didn’t move an inch at your touch, but you nearly fell to your knees. Heeseung stopped to face you, making sure you were okay but seeing you catch your balance before tumbling over, looking back over your shoulder and snarling at him, “Asshole…” you mumbled under your breath as you still pushed along down the street. 

Heeseung blankly stared at you then shoved his hands back in his pockets and continued to his destination, saying a small prayer for you. 

It didn’t take much longer for Heeseung to reach the small house right outside the city. He took a deep breath and smiled wide, knocking on the door. 

A man opened the door, his eyes puffy and red from crying and now full of confusion looking at Heeseung, “Can I help you?” 

Heeseung smiled even more, “I am here to help you.” 

The man gave him an even more confused look, “Excuse me?” 

A small cough could be heard within the house and soft sobs followed after it. 

Heeseung peeked into the house, “Your child, they’re sick,” the man looked down to the ground, putting his lips into a thin line, “I can help. I was sent here to do so.” 

The man flicked his eyes back up at Heeseung, studying him, “Are you the angel we asked God to send?” 

Heeseung gently nodded. 

He was led into the home and to their child’s bedroom. The mother was hovering over her child, who looked to be about eight. His eyes were tightly closed and his breathing was uneven. He was going to die soon, Heeseung could sense it, could see it. The poor boy still had so much life left to live, and that’s why God sent Heeseung here. To heal this child. 

Heeseung placed a gentle hand on the mother, her pleading eyes staring up at him. Once she realized who he was, she reached for his hand, “Dear angel, save my baby boy.” 

Heeseung held her hand tight and nodded. With his free hand, he placed it against the boy's chest, sending a small ounce of healing power to him, reciting a prayer. The boy's mother and father joined him in the prayer, their cries slowly fading out as the heartbeat and breathing of their child became steady. 

The family thanked Heeseung more times than he could count. His face hurt from the amount of smiling he did during those hours he sat in their home. They even cooked him dinner as a thanks. Once Heeseung walked out of the home, he understood why God chose this family. The boy had much life to give, and his parents were good and pure souls. 

Heeseung walked back into the city, hands behind his back as he stared at the nightlife. Loving all the lights that lit up the city perfectly. The hustling life of mortals laughing with friends and family as they head out for dinner or to even party. 

Hopefully, God won’t mind that I take a small walk before heading back. 

Heeseung walked as far as he could, finally deciding it was time to head back to the golden gates. 

That was until he saw you. 

Heeseung stood at a crosswalk, cars flying by and the wind blowing his silver hair and clothes in all directions. You popped up to his right, your phone once again was in your hands, thumbs pressing away at the screen. 

Time seemed to slow down then. The red hand that illuminated the crosswalk to not cross flashed its light. The cars fast-paced slowed. Heeseung turned his head to look at you, watching as you continued to step from the sidewalk and into the street, not paying any attention. 

His heart raced faster, eyes widening as he looked to his left, seeing a car passing into the next lane without using a blinker and showing no signs of slowing down or even honking their horn at you to show they were there. 

Heeseung acted fast, stepping down from the curb, hands reaching out to grab your shoulders and pull you back against him. Heeseung released his wings, wrapping them around you and twirling you around and back to the sidewalk. 

Time went back to normal, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. How stupid could you be to walk out into the street in the middle of rush hour while on your phone? You could have died. That’s when you noticed the white wings wrapped over you along with the strong arms that held you tightly. 

You looked up, resting your head against his chest, seeing it was the man you ran into earlier, seeing him staring back down at you. His chest raised and fell quickly, his warm breath touching your face. He’s an angel. An actual, real-life angel. Ones you’ve only been told about from stories as a child. 

Heeseung pulled his wings back behind him and hid them from the human eye once again. Seeing the other mortals around didn’t take any notice. He continued to stare into your eyes, “You silly little thing.” 

The longer the two of you looked at each other, the more your heart wanted to rip from your chest. He was beautiful. Breathtaking. You felt safe in his arms and without knowing you leaned more against him, Heeseung, as if on instinct, held you tighter against him. 

“Thank you,” you finally managed to say, your cold hands touching his where they sat against your forearms, “For saving me.”

Feeling your cold touch brought Heeseung back to reality. He smiled and released his arms from you, “Try and pay better attention next time, okay?” 

You turned to fully face him. Every fiber of your being wanted to cling to him. Your heart is calling for him. 

Heeseung kept his smile, giving you a small nod, and prepared to turn away. 

“Wait!” you quickly shouted, your hands now grasping at the back of his shirt. Heeseung looked over his shoulder at you, “Let me make it up to you, for saving me. And to apologize for calling you an asshole earlier.” 

Heeseung chuckled, “Being nice to an angel won’t get you into heaven, silly mortal.” 

You bit at the skin on your lip, “I really just want to thank you.” 

Heeseung looked up to the sky and then shrugged. God can wait for a bit longer. 

He followed close behind you until you stood in front of your apartment door and with shaky hands you unlocked the door and went inside, Heeseung trialing in. 

He held his hands behind his back, looking over every inch of your studio apartment. 

“I’m sorry it’s so small…” you whispered, closing the door behind you. 

Heeseung turned to face you, his smile still on his face, “It’s not my place to judge what you do or do not have. Your space is perfect if you make it perfect.” 

Right. You forgot he’s an angel. You kicked out of your shoes, reaching your hands up to unzip your jacket, noticing how quickly he turned around to look away from you. 

You drop your hands to your sides, “Want anything to eat or drink?” you ask quickly walking to your kitchen, “I am not sure what angels eat?” 

Heeseung chuckled, slowly turning to face you, “You don’t seem to be questioning what I am.” 

You gave him a small smile as you pulled two water bottles from your fridge, “I always believed. Believed we humans had someone looking after us, whether that was a God or angels or anything else.” 

Heeseung tilted his head, “What if I was anything else? You let me into your home so willingly.” 

You swallowed, not even taking into conversation that the man in front of you could be the other type of angel. One that was meant to draw you in and kill you, “Are you going to hurt me?” 

Heeseung took a few steps towards you, “I would never.” 

You slowly nodded at him and handed him his water bottle, “I am YN, by the way.” 

Heeseung gently took the water from you, his fingers brushing over yours, “Heeseung. Second hand to God.” 

You widen your eyes, you weren’t just dealing with an angel, but you were dealing with God’s TOP angel. 

Heeseung stared at you, “Something wrong, YN?” 

You shook your head, “You’re just…beautiful.” you didn’t know where that came from or why you even spoke those words from your mouth. 

His heart picked up its pace, and his ears started to burn red. He took steps away from you and finally took sips of his water. 

Heeseung thought you were beautiful too, a little silly mortal, but beautiful nevertheless. His heart was pulling to you and he needed to leave soon and quickly. 

He cleared his throat, “You wanted to thank me, but that’s not necessary. I was simply doing my job.” 

You set your water down on the table, “You saved my life, I need to thank you somehow.” 

Heeseung looked at your water bottle, watching how the droplet fell down the plastic and touched the wood of the table. He sat his bottle down beside yours, “Tell me your thanks then, I must return soon.” 

You didn’t know what came over you or what you were even thinking. All you knew was you were now standing before Heeseung, looking up into his brown eyes.

Heeseung stared back down into your eyes, loving the way their color shined under the light of your kitchen. You stood on your tiptoes, placing your hands on his shoulders. 

“YN,” he whispered, his hands now on your biceps, pulling your feet back flat to the floor, “I can’t accept that.” 

“Just one,” you whisper back, once again standing on your tiptoes, becoming inches away from his face. 

Heeseung’s lips parted, frozen in place as he watched you move closer. You brushed your nose against him, slowly closing your eyes as your lips touched together. 

Heeseung kept still as you held your lips to his, his heart threatening to rip from his chest. But once you pulled away, he was pulling you back. 

His hands moved from your biceps to your face, keeping you in place as he kissed you back. Lips moved together as if he’d never kissed someone before. 

Heeseung had his fair share of kisses when he was mortal, but none of them felt like yours do. Tasting so sweet and addicting. You kissed him back with the same amount of passion he was giving you, roaming your hands from his shoulders to his neck, fingers tangling in the silver strands of his hair. 

You don’t know if it was you or Heeseung who deepened the kiss, all concepts of time and the world around you were out the window at his touch. At the way his hands slid from your face to your hips. At how your body was pressed so close to his and how you were now pressed against the wall of your apartment. 

It was just kissing. You two were just making out and nothing else. But you wanted more, so much more. Heeseung too, wanted more of you. He couldn’t get enough. He rocked his hips against yours, his growing hard cock rubbing you just in the right way that your lips released from his to softly moan. 

Heeseung was off you within seconds of hearing that lewd, sweet sound come from your mouth. 

He pressed his back against the door, palming the door in hopes of getting his hands to stop shaking as he pants to catch his breath. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, “I’m sorry.” 

Heeseung glances up at you, his pupils blown out and filled with the want he has for you. You wanted to run to him, pull him back into you. But the moment his wings, his oh-so-beautiful wings, appeared from behind him, you knew your time with him was over. 

“We can’t see each other again,” Heeseung quickly says, turning and reaching for the door handle. 

“Why?!” you quickly asked, pushing yourself off the wall, “I want to see you again.” 

Heeseung flung the door open and rushed to the railing, “I can’t sin. You’re too tempting.” You stood in the doorway, watching as he climbed the railing, stretching his wings out. He glanced behind him, taking one last long look at you, feeling his heartbreaking, “Goodbye, silly mortal.” 

And then he was gone. He shot into the sky so far and fast you didn’t have time to blink, “Goodbye, Heeseung.” 

—

Heeseung kneeled at the altar, bringing his hands together, and doing his daily prayers and offerings. Pushing every thought of you out of his mind. 

It’s been days since he left you. Days since he felt the warmth of your body against his. How your lips tasted and moved against his own. How you made his body feel. The things he wanted to do to you…the thoughts that ran through his head about you. 

Heeseung squeezed his eyes, doing everything he could to shove the thought of you down and away. To forget about you and what had happened. He couldn’t have you no matter what. Angels and mortals can’t be together anyway. It was forbidden. Angels' jobs are to protect, provide guidance, to watch over, and ensure the safety of the mortals. To not intervene and only to do so when it’s necessary. Everything about you was against the rules. He couldn’t have relationships with you. 

Heeseung stood from the altar, turning to see his brothers standing behind him, “My apologies,” he said to the six of them, “I took a bit longer this morning. Please take your turn.” 

He stepped aside, watching as the youngest and newest angel in their ranks took to the alter first. 

“What took you so long to return the other night, brother?” Niki, the youngest, asked as he placed his hands together and knelt, “We missed you at dinner.” 

Heeseung placed his hands behind his back, “I was sent on a job. The family I helped offered me food as a thanks.” 

Sunoo and Sunghoon knelt down beside Niki, copying the prayers. 

Jay and Jake kept their eyes on Heeseung, their eyes telling Heeseung everything he needed to know: that they knew where he was that night. 

Jungwon gave Heeseung a dimpled smile as he knelt beside the others, “It was very nice of them to return their thanks in dinner for you. Make sure to keep contact with them. It would be the right thing to do.” 

Heeseung nodded at the younger, “Of course. Already plan to.” 

He looked back at Jay and Jake, giving them a small nod and walking past them. 

“We know,” was all Jay said in a whisper only he, Jake, and Heeseung could hear. 

Heeseung stopped a few steps behind them, keeping his hands behind his back and head held high, “I know.” 

“Only Jay and I,” Jake added, his Aussie accent coming out in a hushed tone, “You know the rules.” 

“I know,” Heeseung said again, “I saved her life and she thanked me the way she felt fit.” 

“That’s not what we are worried about though,” Jay sighed, keeping his eyes locked on the younger ones in front of him, folding his wings tightly to his back. 

Heeseung knew the two of them were being nosey. That they peeked down onto the mortal lands and saw everything that happened. 

“Will you tell on me?” Heeseung asked, keeping himself held high. 

Jake chuckled, “Of course not,” he finally turned to look at Heeseung, staring at the back of his head, “You just have to promise to never see her again.” 

Heeseung closed his eyes, “I know the rules. I appreciate you two looking after me, but I am the eldest angel, the most trusted, and I wouldn’t break that trust. Not to God, or you six.” 

“We want you to promise,” Jay mumbled, “Say you promise.” 

“I promise.” 

Jay and Jake nodded, joining their brothers at the alter, leaving Heeseung standing alone. He walked out of the chapel and into the garden. He hated having to make that promise, but knowing it was necessary to make. Not just for his brother's peace of mind, but also his own. 

The day went on like normal with his normal scheduled things. It was enough to distract him away from the conversation that morning with Jay and Jake. Enough to keep his mind off and away from you. 

That was until night fell and he returned to his room with his back pressed to his shower wall, head leaned over, and letting the water slip down his head and face. 

Heeseung reached his fingers up to his lips, rubbing the pads over them, remembering the way your lips felt pressed against him. He ran his hands from the back of his neck to his shoulders, touching every inch of his upper half that your hands touched. 

Heeseung started to pant, his heart beating faster at the memories of you pressed against him. The moan that left your vulgar mouth. The pulsing pressure Heessung felt on his lower half was making him shake. He wrapped his hand around himself, slowly stroking up and back down. Biting his lips to keep any noise from coming out. 

This wasn’t like Heeseung. This wasn’t his normal behavior. And if he got found out…it would be over for him. It would have been over for him a long time ago if he was caught with you that night. Or if he continued any further. The moment Heeseung would have touched you inappropriately, or slid himself inside you…

Heeseung’s breath hitched, his thumb circling the tip. His eyes were glued to how red and angry it looked, how badly he wanted to feel your hand in place of his. 

He quickly let go of himself, turning the warm water from hot to cold, his body shivering from the new temperature and removing his thoughts about you. 

Even after his shower and now lying in bed, his thoughts trailed to you and the small time he spent with you. His heart ached, begging to hear your voice one more time. He forced himself to sleep. Forced himself to wake up that next morning and go about his normal schedule. To go back to bed and repeat over and over. 

Heeseung broke the minute he landed back in the city, sneaking out of heaven for the night and landing himself at your front door. His shaky hands banging on your door. 

You jolted awake, angrily stomping your way to the front door, “What the fuck do you want it’s almost two in the morning!” you snapped pulling the door open to see Heeseung standing before you, his wings quickly pulled tightly to his back as he pushed himself inside, his hands immediately cupping your face and lips attaching to yours. 

“Hee—Heeseung,” you said his name in between kisses, eventually pressing your hands to his chest and pushing him. Heeseung pulled back, looking at you with so much worry, “What are you doing here?” You asked. 

Heeseung slid his hands from your face to your arms, thumbs rubbing at your skin, “Do you want me to go?” 

“No!” you said a bit too hastily, fingers gripping at the fabric of his dark blue shirt, “I’ve missed you so much please don’t go.” 

It was true, you missed him more than you wanted to admit and the weeks you spent away from him were torture. You barely knew him, knew next to nothing about him actually. But something about him pulled you in. The moment you felt his arms and wings wrap around you, your heart was his for the taking. 

You did enough research after he left about why he couldn’t stay with you. Why he couldn’t be doing this with you. He’s breaking enough rules as it is to be here with you right now. 

Heeseung kissed you again, letting his wings drop to the floor, “I’ve missed you so much,” he said between each kiss, “You’re so darn tempting.” 

You giggled at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I thought you couldn’t sin,” you teased him. 

Heeseung left your lips to kiss down your neck, “Kissing isn’t a sin. As long as I don’t touch you or have sex with you…” he brushed his lips back up to your jaw, “Just don’t tempt me to do anything but kiss you.” 

You did as the angel told you. Doing nothing but letting him kiss you and keeping your hands to yourself even if it was killing you to not touch him. Heeseung kept his hands on your face, thumbs gently rubbing back and forth across your jawline, slowly walking you to your bed and laying you down. Heeseung climbed in over you, gently laying his body down on top of yours, wanting to be as close as legally possible for him to be. 

He didn’t move, no matter how hard he got. He didn’t touch you anywhere but your arms and face, even if his hands were screaming to touch every inch of you. All he did was keep his lips connected to yours, kissing you so gently and softly until both of yours and his lips were swollen. 

You fell asleep in his arms but awoke to an empty apartment but a handwritten letter was on your kitchen table, Heeseung telling you he would be back when he could. 

And Heeseung kept true to his word. He always came back to you. He always held you close in his arms and kissed you gently. Heeseung fell hard in love with you. No amount of time spent with you was ever enough, not when he had to go back to Heaven before anyone noticed he was gone. Do his normal duties and schedule, wait a couple of days, then crash land back at your door. 

Each time was harder than the last. You became his every thought and wish. And Heeseung was slowly starting to lose himself when it came to you. His immortal life started to become more mortal again being with you. Mostly with how much your existence was starting to tempt him more and more. 

Heeseung was slowly starting to break the rules even more than he already was. Brushing his hands over your breasts slowly, tangling his fingers in your hair, rubbing his cock against your heat, and shoving his tongue down your throat. He would undress you, undress himself, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties and him in his boxers, trying so hard to keep his eyes on your face and not trace every inch of your almost bare body. 

You were the devil that sat on his shoulder, breaking him away from who he really was. Never once in his life, before he died and after, was he ever faced with temptation like this. 

You made it so hard for him to behave. Not when he’d hear your sweet moans fill his ears as you buck your hips against his to feel his length and run your hands down every inch of his body. 

Heeseung nearly lost his mind when your hand wrapped around him for the first time, feeling how your fingers pumped him so slowly and oh so so good. 

“Angels don’t act like this, darling,” Heeseung whispered in your ear as your hand squeezed him, “You’re such a devil to me.”

You kissed his neck, stroking his cock a bit faster, “I’m just a devil in disguise,” you teased him, knowing full well Heeseung was loving this banter. 

“I love you,” he kissed your ear, rocking himself in your hand, “I love you so much.” 

Heeseung had you stop before things got too out of control. Redressing himself and you before giving you a final kiss goodnight and leaving. 

You always hated to watch him go. To watch as your angel flew away into the night and having to count down the days until you could see him again. 

—

Heeseung stood before the altar, his six brothers surrounding behind him along with the other angels of heaven. He kept his hands pressed behind his back, “You called for me, my savior?” 

God hummed, “We have a lot to discuss, my angel.” 

Heeseung glanced around at his brothers, taking note of their facial expressions. Then looked at the other angels, they wore the same looks, just not as hurt as his brothers. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what this was about. Heeseung knew. His luck ran out. 

“What would you like to discuss?” Heeseung asked, giving a smile. 

“About your wrongdoings.” 

Heeseung’s smile faded, dropping his kind and happy act. He had to admit, he no longer was happy being here in heaven. Not when his heart was on mortal lands. Heaven was back on Earth. Not in these clouds. Not anymore. 

“Are you wanting me to confess my sins, my lord?” Heeseung kept his head lifted, straightening up his posture. 

“Yes,” God said with a sigh, “And why you betrayed me.” 

Heeseung pulled his wings tighter to his back, squeezing his hands together, “I am in love with her.” 

His six brothers closed their eyes tightly, tilting their heads down towards the white morale floor, hands in fists. The other angels gasped at the confession. 

“State the rest of your sins, Lee Heeseung.” 

Heeseung lifted his head up higher, “I’ve touched her. Let her touch me. Slept beside her and held her in my arms. Rubbed my body against hers until she was moaning.” 

The gasps of the other angels grew louder, their chattering voices echoing across the chapel. 

“But you never slept with her, have you?” 

Heeseung smirked, “No, I haven’t had sex with her. But I want to.”

More gasps filled the chapel. Jay now appearing at Heeseung’s side, his hand gripping his shoulder, “Stop talking man!” 

Heeseung shook his brother off him, “Go and stand back where you were, Jay.” 

“Jongseong,” God said quickly, “Please.” 

Jay slowly walked back, standing close to Jake. 

“What has she done to you? My angel? Why did you fall into her temptation when she’s a devil.” 

Heeseung tensed his face and body. Wings pulled even tighter against him to keep them from shaking out of pure anger, “She’s a human being. Nothing even close to those damned demons.” 

More gasps from the other angels. 

“You will watch your mouth when speaking to me.” 

Heeseung chuckled, looking down to the floor, “My apologies.” 

Heeseung thinned his lips in a line. He was filled with so much conflict. This place wasn’t his home, not when you were down below waiting for him. Heeseung loved his time here, loved helping mortals who needed him, and loved his six brothers and even the jobs and duties he had here. Spending time with you did change him, making him want more out of his immortal life than to just exist. He wanted to live. He wanted to love. He wanted life with you. 

Heeseung held his head high again, relaxing his body, “I confess to all my sins. My thoughts I’ve had of her, the things I want to do to and with her and I confess to betraying you and your trust, my savior.” 

God sighed, silence filling the room. Heeseung knew what was next. His punishment. 

“Jay, Jake, Sungoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki,” God called for them, “Stand by Heeseung.” 

Heeseung watched his six brothers stand closer to him, seeing the looks on their faces as God spoke to them one one-on-one in their minds, telling them exactly what they needed to do. 

Niki and Jungwon held his legs down, while Sunghoon and Sunoo stretched his arms out and held a death grip on them. 

Heeseung’s body shook, pure fear covering his face when he felt Jay’s and Jake’s hands touch his wings, “No,” Heeseung whispered, fighting as much as he could to pull his wings back, “Not my wings.” 

Jay gritted his teeth as he forced Heeseung’s left wing out, stretching it out to its full span. Jake did the same, biting down hard on his lip and breaking the skin. 

“This is your punishment, Lee Heeseung,” God said with a stern voice, “You lose your place here. And I’m taking back your wings I granted you.” 

Heeseung pushed and pulled at his brothers, doing anything he could to get them off him but their grips held hard. 

“Heeseung, please,” Sunghoon begged as he gripped his wrist harder, “Stop.” 

“Hyung please,” Sunoo begged. 

But Heeseung kept fighting to break free. 

“ENOUGH!” 

Everyone stood still as the room shook with God’s shout. Sweat rolled down Heessung’s face, his eyes piercing through everyone surrounding him.

“Take his wings. Now.”

Heeseung smirked, “To hell with all this,” he whispered. 

Jay and Jake looked at each other, their tears swelling up in their eyes as God whispered in their minds to take Heeseung’s wings. To rip them from his body. 

They pulled and Heeseung shouted. His voice echoed off the walls as Jay and Jake pulled with their full strength. Sunghoon and Sunoo kept their grips on his wrists tight and same with Jungwon and Niki at his legs, holding on for dear life. 

It was killing Jay to have to do this, to watch his own hands pull his older brother's wing right out of his body. He could only imagine the pain Heeseung was feeling. And Jake? He was in tears. He could feel inch by inch of Heeseung’s right wing stripping from his back. He could already see the blood spilling onto his white robes and onto the floor. Seeing Heeseung fling his head back and forth in a rage as his voice bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the whole chapel. The pained faces his other six brothers had at having to witness this. 

Jake wished he could turn back time, wished he could have stopped Heeseung from sneaking out. Stopped the angel who caught Heeseung dropping down to the mortal lands and kept him from getting nosey and running his mouth to God. But it was all too late. Heeseung would get his wings stripped from him and pushed down to the Earth to fall. All Jake could do now was pray he survived long enough to make it to you. 

Heeseung clenched his jaw as the last bit of his wings was stripped from his body, his back spilling blood and muscles aching from the loss of where his wings once were. His beautiful white feathered wings lost all their life and slumped in Jay’s and Jake’s hands, blood dripping down them. 

His brothers stepped away from him, watching as Heeseung fell to the floor, too dizzy from the blood loss. 

“You will now fall,” God sighed, “You will be stripped of your immortality and fall to Earth. You will crawl to your lover and show her where her sins got you.” 

Heeseung weakly smirked, eyes closing, “Gladly.” 

Heeseung didn’t know who picked him up by his arms and dragged him out of the chapel, he just knew it wasn’t any of his brothers. The grip the other two angles had on him was proof enough that it wasn’t any of the ones he loved. 

The six of them stood in the chapel still, eyes locked on Heeseung's wingless back, watching the blood pool from the wounds and stain his white robes and the marble floor. 

They watched helplessly as Heeseung was pushed off the edge. 

—

You heard a faint knocking on your door. At first, you thought you might have gone crazy and heard things. But once the knocking kept happening and then you heard something fall, you quickly rushed to the door, opening it to find Heeseung still in his white-stained robes. His back was pressed against the railing and his skin was pale. 

“Heeseung, oh my god!” you dropped down to his side, cupping your hands to his face, “What happened?!” 

Heeseung was barely able to hold his eyes open, “My wings…they stripped my wings from me.” 

You bit at the skin on your cheek, quickly standing back to your feet and pulling him up with all the strength you had, pulling his arm over your shoulders and gripping your arm around his waist, pulling him inside your apartment. 

Heeseung barely made it a couple of steps in before falling to his knees, you losing your grip on him and your eyes finally landing on the holes in his robes and the blood that still continued to push out. 

“Heeseung,” you fell back to his side, “You need to get to a hospital.” 

“And tell them what?” he breathed out, fingers gripping the carpet as he pants, “That I am a fallen angel who got their wings forcefully torn from his body?” 

Heeseung wasn’t trying to be snappy or rude, truly. The pain was just so immense he couldn’t control anything. 

You sat back on your heels, watching the love of your life suffer. This was your fault. It was all your fault. You’re the one who asked him to come home with you that fateful day. You’re the one who kissed him. Who tempted him. You pulled him in and touched him. You did this to him. 

Heeseung could practically hear your brain turning over and over. He pushed himself to his side, reaching his hand up to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him, “This is not your fault, you hear me? Not even close.” 

The tears swelled in your eyes now, falling into his touch as he cupped his hand to your cheek, “Heeseung…” 

“Baby,” he whispered, “I need you to do as I say, okay? My immortality hasn’t been taken from me yet, I will heal a bit fast but I need my wounds covered and taken care of, can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, placing a kiss on his palm. Heeseung told you exactly what you needed to do. Starting with tearing his robes off his body and ripping it into a big enough strand to be wrapped around him. Then using any medical alcohol you had in the apartment and pour it onto his wounds and hold a towel to them. It killed you having to press the towels to his wounds, feeling the massive hole where his beautiful wings once were…the pain Heeseung must be feeling…

But you took care of him. Doctoring his wounds to the best of your ability and doing as he instructed you. You wrapped the pieces of what was left of his robe around his chest and back, tying it as tightly as you could. 

You helped him to your bed, steadying him up as he sat down. Heeseung wasn’t as pale as earlier, but you could still see the pained expression. 

“Hey,” He whispered, cupping your face, “Stop thinking whatever it is.” 

You looked away from him, “I caused this. I tempted you.” 

Heeseung shook his head, “Baby, look at me,” you looked up at him, “I did this of my own free will,” he slid his hands from your face and down to your waist, “I knew the consequences, and did it anyway,” he squeezed your waist, “I love you. I gave up heaven for you.” 

You wanted to fight him, to yell in his face about giving up eternity for you. But you also couldn’t help but feel so loved at this moment. That this angel found love with you and was willing to give up everything for you. 

Heeseung kissed you, pulling you between his legs, and deepening the kiss. 

“Heeseung,” you said, pulling away from him, “You’re injured, you need to rest.” 

“No,” he shook his head, pulling you down into the bed and towering over you, “I’ve waited,” he said, his eyes growing lustful and his fingers tearing into your shirt and ripping it in half, pulling it off your body, “so damn long,” sliding his hands down to your shorts, looping his fingers in and pulling them down, taking your panties down with, “to have you like this.” 

Heeseung kicked your legs apart with his knees, leaning up straight to unbutton and unzip his black slacks, wiggling them off his body, leaving him in his boxers. You pulled yourself up on your elbows, opening your mouth to protest that this could wait. But Heeseung wasn’t having any of it. He connected his lips back to yours, his hands cupping your breasts and loving the way you moaned into his mouth. 

“Oh hell baby,” he said between kisses, “I love how these feel between my fingers.” 

You kept your lips attached to his as if your life depended on it, bucking your hips up onto his. 

Heeseung trailed his lips down to your neck, squeezing your breasts then sliding them behind to unhook your bra, sending the fabric off somewhere in the apartment. 

Heeseung lifted himself back up, tearing down at your bare body. So perfect. So beautiful. So his. 

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered, connecting his forehead to yours, tracing his fingertips down your body and stopping at your cunt, slowly pushing his fingers in, “So wet,” he groaned, rubbing his hard cock against your thigh, “Hmm I can’t wait to feel your cunt wrapped around me.” 

You giggled at him, “Angels don’t say such dirty things,” you teased. 

“Yeah?” he smirked, plunging his fingers in and out faster, “Angels don’t finger this good, do they?” 

You squirm underneath him, rolling your hips in sync with his fingers. Pushing your head back into your pillows and aches your back. 

You gasped out at the loss of his fingers, watching as he pulled the remainder of his clothing off him. His hard cock was red and angry. Precum dripping from his tip.

Heeseung gripped both your thighs, pushing them to your chest, “Angels don’t do what I am fixing to do to you,” he smirked, lining his cock up to your entrance. With a deep breath, he pushed himself inside you. Heeseung’s moans fill the apartment along with your own. 

His grip on your thighs tightened, his nails digging into the skin. He pulled his hips back and pushed forward. Picking up his pace and pounding into you like a madman. His pupils were blown out and his breaths were unsteady. This. This was what he gave up heaven for. To feel your cunt wrapped around his cock. This was the real heaven. 

“See, darling,” he groans, throwing his head back, “Angels don’t fuc-fuck this good,” he looked back down at you, loving your fucked out expression and how your hands gripped your bedsheets. Mouth slack as sweet moans spill from your lips. It turned you on so bad hearing Heeseung talk this way. To feel him so balls deep in your pussy, “Thank god I am not an angel, huh?” 

Heeseung was the definition of looks like an angel but fucks like a demon. With the way he pistoned into you, the grip on your thighs, the dirty words leaving his mouth that you’ve never heard him say before tonight…Heeseung was never meant to stay an angel. 

You continued to moan out with each of his hard thrusts, your core growing tight and threatening to snap at any moment, “Fuck you feel so good,” he breathes, “Moan my name baby,” he snaked his fingers to your clit, rubbing it aggressively, “Cum around my cock, I know you want to.” 

You bit your lip, arching your back more at his touch, jaw going slack as you chanted his name. Chanting his name as if he were god and you were his follower. Your core snapping, your orgasm releasing around him and onto your bedsheets, “Fuck yes, baby,” he smiles, pumping himself even faster inside you, “Can’t believe I’ve waited this long to fuck you. Should have done it the night we met. Should have fucked this cunt, should have ruined you. Claimed you as mine from the beginning. Oh fuck—“

Heeseung’s body shuddered, cock twitching, “I’m fixing to cum baby,” he bit his lip, looking down and watching how his cock slides in and out, in and out, “Oh dear god, I’m cumming. Oh fuck I’m cumming.” 

He kept his eyes locked on your pussy as he came, watching how his seed leaked from your hole as he continued to pump inside of you, milking his cock between your walls. 

Heeseung fell on top of your body, his head resting on your chest as he steadied himself and caught his breath, wrapping his arms underneath you. 

Heeseung spent his whole life being good and doing good. Never once being selfish or doing any selfish acts. Until you. You pulled this high-ranking angel down to his knees. Making him for once, want to be selfish. To do something for himself. To live freely and be free. To love and fuck you with every ounce of his being. 

He was so in love with you and you were so worth getting his wings taken away from him. It's so worth his immortality being stripped. 

Heeseung looked up at you, “Want to know a secret?” You tilted your head at him, waiting for him to continue, “I knew it would happen eventually. I wasn’t truly happy up there. My brothers and God knew it too. It was a matter of time before I fucked up and got caught,” he leaned himself up on his elbows, “I wanted it to happen. Because I wanted to be with you so bad. I knew they’d strip my wings. Take my immortality. Yeah, I enjoyed my wings and being immortal, but I wanted you so much more than that.” 

You cupped his face, “My fallen angel,” 

He placed a kiss on your lips, “I love you, YN.” Heeseung wrapped your legs around his waist, slowly moving again, “And I so love fucking this pussy.” 

You giggled, bracing your hands onto his biceps, “I love you too, even if you gave everything up for me.” 

Heeseung rested his forehead on yours, slowly fucking into you, “And I’d do it over and over again, all for you.”

—perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @belowbun @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ohdeerhee @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee

[hollowtones]

first yiik impressions?

Hi. Thanks for your message. I've been thinking about this for days. I wrote paragraphs. Here you go!

Everyone talks up how the game is bad, but I've never looked into it much myself, so I went in with an expectation along the lines of "people whose opinions I often agree with think it was an awful mess, I'll likely think something similar". Expectations were low. Even then I wasn't really ready.

"YIIK" is a game of tedium. I don't think it's a game about tedium, that's something different (though it could be, if it was a different video game altogether; "what if the world was made of pudding" etc). To some degree I think the tedium is by design but I'm not really sure what it's in service of.

I don't think tedium in a video game is a bad thing. "Morrowind" and "Breath of the Wild" are two video games I like very much, and some of my favourite memories of those games are of slowly wandering through empty expanses, or having to suddenly deal with equipment degrading or supplies dwindling because I forgot to prepare. Moments like that feel thoughtful! They're interesting moments of reprieve or of tension that feel thoughtfully and intentionally designed! "YIIK" feels like trudging through chest-deep molasses so it can shout "hey did you know you're stuck in my molasses right now? that's weird, why are you stuck in my molasses right now? did you notice?" directly into your ear.

You'll notice this is a pattern.

Combat is turn-based and involves completing little minigames, timing button prompts or hitting targets or some such. It's a cute idea that wears out its welcome when you start realizing how long every single one takes to resolve, especially when you have multiple party members, and sometimes multiple enemies (I'm told this part specifically gets more egregious as the game goes on). I don't think it's awful or unsalvageable but I'm not super into it as of the point we're at.

This is a pattern.

Leveling up is a manual process that you have to unlock, and it involves going to a save point (any save point? we didn't check), to enter the Mind Dungeon, to enter the actual Mind Dungeon, to walk down a set of stairs and enter individual doors one-by-one, so that you can choose how you want to allocate stat increases, so that you can walk down a different set of stairs to commit your choices and spend your banked experience to level up. I think "you can only power up at specific points / times / locations" and the granularity of stat growth are interesting ideas, and the environment they made for it are a charming idea, and I don't think it needed to be a "Hotel Mario" level that you had to slowly walk through. It could have been a menu. They could have used the resources for a nice background or backdrop for a menu that accomplishes the same thing.

This is a pattern.

I haven't really mentioned anything about the story or writing yet. The protagonist's name is Alex and he's a very self-important nerdy misanthropic dickhead white man (a very specific kind of guy that I've definitely met at least once or twice) who is obsessed with a paranormal message board populated by people like him and desperate to find out more about the disappearance of a woman he witnessed. (The woman & her disappearance are based on the real life death of Elisa Lam & aren't handled with a whole lot of tact, IMO, but other people have put this into better words than I can right now. It sucks. It keeps coming up and it makes me bristle every time.) Alex is a bad person. I know he is. You know he is. The game knows he is. I've seen some reviews say a negative point of the game is "the main characters aren't likeable", which I don't really get, because that's the point of the characters, as far as I can tell. The issue, then, is how much time the game takes to exposit at you how bad the characters are. It's exhausting. Every time Alex has a monologue, it feels like it sums up to 10 minutes of "I am a bad person. I am a bad person. Alex is a bad person. This character is a bad person. Do you get it? He's a bad person. Alex is a bad person. Do you understand yet, player? Alex is a bad person. You should know that he's a bad person. Do you get it?"

This is a pattern.

(I don't know how interested I am in bringing up the game's lead writer right now, if at all, but there's a well-known anecdote where he talks about wanting to write a story about a bad person who is forced to grapple with himself and do better, and how the reason why his game wasn't well-received was because people who play video games didn't get it & weren't ready for a story like that. I dunno. I can understand being upset about negative reception to something you poured time and sweat into, and saying something hasty because of it. "Final Fantasy 4" is a beloved RPG classic, though, and "Disco Elysium" came out the same year to overwhelming praise. I haven't played either of these yet, though, so I'll admit maybe I'm off the mark here.)

The characters we've met so far (i.e. the ones that aren't unnamed NPCs) are… well. There's a smarmy younger kid who idolizes(?) Alex & also made the aforementioned paranormal website. So far it seems like he mostly exists to go "hey fuck you Alex, you dickhead" and immediately say something even more insensitive. There's the insensitive based-on-a-real=ass-dead-woman elevator woman, who immediately disappeared from the narrative while still being an essential part of the narrative. There was a dead(?) robot in a bedroom, who had a choir of ominous hooded people monologue about how weird and sad and strange and uncanny the scene is. What the!? There's a woman who works at the arcade and has Powers. Her design's cute. (I feel like, generally, the game's visuals are Fine. The audio, too. That all ranges from Just Fine to Surprisingly Neat. I don't really have much issue with those aspects of the game, but I don't have much to say about them either.) Alex and Kid Whose Name I Didn't Care To Remember are constantly very uncomfortable to her, because she's a woman and because she isn't white, in the 15 or so minutes we've seen her on-screen, and she gets to tell them off, but then immediately kind of goes "well whatever I can smile and put up with this and hang out with you". It feels misogynistic. I know to some degree Alex is misogynistic on purpose, because the game is bludgeoning your skull in and yelling "ALEX IS SHITTY TO WOMEN! AND PEOPLE OF COLOUR! DO YOU GET IT? HE'S SELF ABSORBED IN A SHITTY WAY! DO YOU GET IT, PLAYER? YOU UNDERSTAND THAT ALEX SUCKS ASS YET? MAYBE 10 MORE MINUTES OF THIS WILL MAKE IT CLICK?" But for a woman of colour (the only one we've seen so far who isn't Probably Just Dead) to finally tell him off for being a shithead, only to turn around and go "well it's ok, you're cool now, let's hang out now because it's narratively convenient and you're the protagonist" is pretty damn egregious!

This is a pattern.

Writing in general feels stilted and long-winded. Most of the main characters feel like they don't talk like people do. Alex gets to feel like a person but that's mostly because he gets to talk to himself so damn much. Most of his monologues feel like overly flowery prose, like someone padded it out with identical adjectives to meet a school essay word count. There's an interesting idea or premise or setpiece every now and then. There's a spark. A glint of something compelling. Every single time this has happened so far I find it immediately snuffed out by an over-blown "oh my god!!!!!!! how weird!!!!!!', or a very long plot dump, or a Joss Whedon-ass quip. There can be no small moment of joy. No story element or visual element can stand on its own legs. There can be no room for ideas to breathe. No space for the player to wonder, to dream, to play in the space. The narrative is compelled to suffocate iself on itself, to take up all space, to swallow itself whole in its making. One very minor (so far?) side character has some interesting dialogue in this one dream world, and I think "oh that's neat", and then I learn they're lines taken wholesale from a book (and I think that's fine, reference is fine, but I have a bit of a chuckle over the fact that this character is the reason why the game has a giant REFERENCES option in the main menu). The literal first minute of the game is a bird telling you "oh my god, the title of this game, right? why'd they spell it like that? so fucking dumb, am I right!" It feels insecure. It reads like the writing has no confidence in itself. It has to make a comment about how silly and video-gamey it is, roll its eyes at itself, mock itself for the thing it's doing while continuing to do it without addressing it or discussing it or doing anything with it.

This is a pattern.

There's a specific part of "YIIK", at this early point in the game (we're only around the start[?] of chapter 2), that feels emblematic of the thing as a whole up to this point. Alex is getting phone calls from a stranger. They're confusing and weird and sound a little like something you might hear in a dream. They make references to some shared past, some childhood, some understanding of Alex, or maybe of you, the player. They've come up a few times. Every single time, I'm left thinking about what it could mean, how it fits in with everything we've seen so far & what the game seems to be talking about, with regards to connecting to other people and to yourself. It's a neat little thing. It's a neat idea. I'm charmed by it. As much as my thoughts on this game are largely negative, I still try to look at it fairly, to understand it, to talk about it, to let myself be surprised by it. As soon as I find myself thinking about this, my thoughts are immediately drowned out by Alex telling me how weird the phone call is, how random and uncanny and dumb this is, and how he's rolling his proverbial eyes about it, in spite of all the other paranormal happenings around him, for another period of Just Too Long. And I am sapped of all strength and I crumble to dust.

I'm genuinely transfixed. I'm transfixed! Maybe the fact that I wrote Paragraphs about the 4-or-5 hours I've seen of the game can tell you as much, even if you skip everything I wrote in them.

I can't wait to see more.

This, too, is a pattern.

[thosewildcharms]

i'll be thinking about 1x04 for the rest of my life probably, but currently i'm thinking about how genius it was that instead of the episode being about convincing rick to fight the CRM, as I originally thought it would be, it ended up being a battle to bring rick himself back to life. it's both rick and michonne fighting to revive a dead man who is doing anything he can to stay dead.

the show had already established that rick metaphorically killed himself and made okafor's mission his own instead of committing suicide and that from the moment she arrived he went into panic mode and was doing everything he could do put himself between her and the many threats aimed at her. like, we knew all of that going in.

and then this episode blows that wide open in the first, what, ten minutes? the CRM thinks they're dead. they can leave. and still, rick clings to okafor's mission. and in the hands of lesser writers, in the hands of any other production team who did not understand these characters as profoundly as danai and andy understand them, that's where it would have ended. rick would have genuinely been fully brainwashed and have been coming from a place of misplaced egotism, and they'd be having a very different fight. it would be rick insisting he had to fight the crm alone and michonne arguing that they can fight them together with nothing deeper than that going on.

but of course that's not it, because that's not rick grimes, and this is danai gurira's pen. he's not brainwashed, he's broken. he's so deeply and profoundly traumatized that clinging to this mission as a way of maintaining his own metaphorical death has become the last and strongest wall of his self-defense mechanism. and he spends the whole episode desperately trying to keep that wall up, and failing.

when he sees michonne's scar, he immediately looks for the PRB. because the physical proof of how much danger she will always be in reminds him of how much he can no longer bear to witness it. when michonne tells him about RJ, he asks her to give him the PRB and when he learns that RJ calls himself Little Brave Man, he doubles down on okafor's plan. because he can never lose another child (the way he lost carl twice) if he never knows or meets him in the first place. when michonne blows up about how scared and guilty she feels about not being with their kids he goes completely cold and blank and tells her to go back home. because if they're all out of sight and together they'll always be alive in his mind. because he's already dead, but they don't have to be. he becomes truly recognizable to michonne, to remain unmoved in the face of her pain like that.

and yet. he lasts about ten seconds before sprinting after when she leaves the room. he fusses over her when she can't stop coughing and refuses to leave her side when she's in danger. several times michonne checks in, to see if her rick is still there ("do you still love me?" "I just needed to hear you say it") and confirms that yes, he is. he's emphatic that he has never stopped loving her and never will, that she never has to thank him ever, for saving her life or for anything else. over and over, his love for her wins out even though he's trying so hard to keep that wall up. to remain dead so she will leave and keep living. he's trying to convince both her and himself that he's already gone, but always breaks at the last minute because the immediacy of seeing her right in front of him is more powerful than his own fear. tries to shut himself down, can't resist her, rinse and repeat.

and god, michonne. i've been yammering about the intensity of rick's love for michonne for weeks now, but michonne has done nothing but prove that she's right there with him, if not more. to reveal that rick is the only person who has ever made her feel safe, only to have him continually reject her and be a stone wall against her anger and pain and fear and confusion was so fucking heartbreaking to watch, and still she spends the whole episode banging and scratching and tearing at that wall around him, begging to understand why he's lying to her, why he's being so antithetical to the man she loves. and once she figures out that there's something else going on, that the rick she loves is undoubtedly still in there, she knows exactly what to do to save him. she forces him to say how much he loves her, how much he can't bear to actually let her leave him, so both of them can hear it and then reminds him of how he loves her. this woman spent a decade alone, afraid, raising their kids and facing horrible trauma herself, almost dies trying to find her husband only to meet a stranger once she does, and still does not give up on him. fucking incredible.

i said in a previous post that the only thing that could keep rick grimes from doing anything to get back to his family is a threat to their lives. and it's still true - his grief and trauma is so profound that even the nebulous threat of losing them is so horrifically terrifying to him that he's refusing to go home to them, keeping himself dead to protect himself from their possible deaths. but ultimately, michonne's love for him is even stronger than that. it took almost a decade for the CRM to break him, and michonne brings him back in a day. because the love they have for each other is more powerful than anything. as she says, it can't be denied.

it's honestly the most romantic hour of television i've ever watched. there's so much more that i can say that i haven't even touched on here, and i'm sure i'll be thinking about it for a very long time.

[markster666]

KINKTOBER (Except in February) - ALASTOR X READER - DAY #21 (Unprotected Sex)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: Kinktober, One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, smut with no plot, pet names, Dom!Alastor, Sub!Reader, Unprotected Sex, creampie, romance, passionate sex, Alastor is loving, etc lol

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 479

A/N: Enjoy! MDNI, please. I'm skipping day #20 (because the prompt was phone sex and ik Alastor would NOT be happy using a phone). Also, I know i've been super inconsistent with this blog / kinktober as a whole and I apologize. I'm trying my best to make enough time. Not edited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. NSFW under the cut.

Alastor's eyes narrowed, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Why don't you want me to wear a condom?" he asked, his voice filled with a sense of suspicion.

"Is it because you want me to cum inside you?"

You bit your lip, your eyes filling with uncertainty. "I don't want you to wear one because... because I trust you," you said, your voice filled with a sense of vulnerability.

"I trust you to be with me no matter the consequences."

Alastor's eyes softened, his heart melting at your words. He leaned in, kissing you passionately.

"I trust you too, Mon Cher," he said, his voice filled with a sense of assurance.

"But promise me you'll tell me if you want to start a family one day."

You nodded, your eyes filling with a sense of gratitude. "I promise," you said, your voice filled with a sense of commitment.

Alastor nodded, his eyes sparkling with desire.

You leaned up and kissed him passionately, trying to motion him to take you to the bedroom.

Alastor moaned, his eyes burning with a deep desire.

"I've been waiting for this," he muttered, his hands gripping your waist tightly.

He stood up, lifting you up effortlessly before carrying you to the bedroom. Placing you on the bed, he climbed on top of you, his hardened member rubbing against your wet entrance.

He positioned himself, his cock at your entrance.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of worry and anticipation. You nodded, your eyes filled with love.

"Yes, I'm ready," you said, your voice filled with a sense of adventure.

"Please, Alastor."

With a growl, he thrust into you, his cock filling you completely. "Oh, yes!" you cried out, your body arching upwards in response to his invasion.

"It's feel SO good, Alastor!"

Alastor began to thrust rhythmically, his hips moving in sync with yours. Each powerful thrust brought him deeper inside you, stretching you to accommodate his size. The sensation was unlike anything you've experienced before, both painful and pleasurable at the same time.

"P-Please Alastor, cum inside of me," you moaned out in ecstasy.

Alastor groaned, his eyes filling with desire.

"Are you sure, my Dear?" he asked, his voice filled with a sense of caution.

"This will increase the chances of you getting pregnant."

You nodded.

"I want to feel you come inside me," you said, "Please, Alastor."

Alastor's eyes softened, his heart pounding in his chest.

"As you wish, Gorgeous," he said.

He increased his pace, his cock hitting your G-spot with every stroke, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Finally, he came inside you, his cock pulsing wildly. You've never felt so full in your life.

You smiled, your eyes filling with satisfaction.

"I love you, Alastor," you said, kissing his forehead.

"I want to start a family with you one day."

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[afirewiel]

I've been seeing a lot of discourse about Rose and Tentoo on my dash lately and I thought I'd add my two cents. I have never been a fan of that ending for Rose. "He's Ten but human! He has Ten's memories!" That argument would hold a lot more weight if it weren't for the fact that earlier in the same season there was a clone of Martha who had Martha's memories and yet acted completely differently than Martha, showing that she was in fact not Martha but her own person. In the "Almost People" arc in season 6, we get a copy of Eleven with his memories, who again acts unlike Eleven and is his own person. In one of the new specials, we get copies of Fourteen and Donna, who also have their memories but are not them. So this whole "memories are what make the person" argument in Tentoo's favor just falls flat.

He had Ten's memories and yet still committed genocide. An act Ten was enraged at him for. So clearly they are in disagreement here, so Ten's memories didn't seem to do him any good as he still chose to do something Ten did not approve of. And why would anyone, least of all the Doctor, leave the woman he loves with a man who had just committed genocide!? It makes no sense to me for him to do that. If anything, one would have thought the Doctor would want to keep Rose as far away from Tentoo as possible after that.

"You changed me. You made me better. Now you can change him." Excuse me, Doctor, but it is not Rose's job to change him! She doesn't owe it to you, to him, or to anyone else to make make him better. She made you better by influence, not because she actively went "I can fix him." And expecting her to, is just wrong and that is not the healthy basis for a relationship.

The biggest reason, however, that I don't like this ending is that Rose wasn't given a choice. Ten didn't let her choose between him and Tentoo. He didn't tell her that Tentoo was human and then asked her if she wanted to stay and live her life with Tentoo. Nope. He told she was going to. "But she kissed Tentoo!" Only because he was the one who told her how he felt about her. Ten purposefully avoided answering her. And even after she kissed Tentoo and realized that Tardis was leaving with Ten and Donna in tow, she chased after them and looked heartbroken when she realized they were gone. Even RTD and Billie Piper have said that the ending was a cope out and that Rose wasn't given a choice. That if she had been, she would have chosen to return to the Tardis with Ten and Donna.

Perhaps if we had gotten a spin-off show about Rose and Tentoo's life, I could have warmed up to this ending, but we didn't. Instead all we got was Ten losing her again (this time of his own choosing) and then immediately losing Donna afterward and him being all alone. So yeah, not a happy ending in my book. If you like it, that's fine. I for one just cannot.

[shadowskulls-blog]

I also craving Sera x Fem reader, whether it's romantic or platonic, I need it-

Can we get NSFW Sera x Exorcist Reader?

Sera is trying to do her paperwork but the reader went under her desk and start eating her out.

Alright, I'm back. This made me come back and get motivated. Also, let me just say I'm terrible at build-up, so let's just get straight to the point

(Also, side note, this is probably shit but I need to post something. Also, I've been drained by life, so writing has become difficult for me to do, but I'm just at a low point, but I'm sure all will be all good soon) (also probably some word mistakes because my auto correct sucks ass and I'm too tired to look back)

Sera x Exorcist Reader.

(Nsfw)

Sera's hand shook with the feather quill in hand, making her once perfect handwriting turn more sloppy as the pleasure she felt overwhelmed her. Her curled up as the quill nearly broke in it. The pleasure she felt made her face hot, and her wings started to cave in around her.

Her six wings shook and moved slowly as every now and then, her feathers would puff up. As a beat of sweat would fall down her face.

Sera covered her mouth with her right hand, trying her best to hold back any moans or whimpers. Her finger tips pressing into her skin. Her eyes could barely stay open as her shoulders began to shiver a bit, that shiver going to her spine as her feathers ruffled a bit

It was hard to keep her eyes open and her voice low. Anyone could walk in and see you two like this. She didn't want anyone to hear her committing to these "sinful acts"

She never knew what to expect from you. The extermination day was always one that weighed on her shoulders and stressed her to no end. She never knew what to expect on this day, she didn't know what Adam would do. Anything could happen, and it always stressed her out. Along with the fact you're an exorcsit.

You would always be too excited on this day. Before and after the extermination. You'd always come back filled with energy. Blood on your clothes and mask as you'd always come to Sera first.

With Sera stressed to the very core and the fact you're at a all time high... it always ended in these "sinful acts" ... but she couldn't help but be pleasured by you...

So when you took of your mask, showing that smirk on your face and got under her desk... she knew what to expect...

Sera moaned into her hand as she felt your tongue against her clit. Her hand finally letting go of the quill and resting on her desk, only for her nails to dig into the wood. Making lines in the wood

Sera let a tiny moan into her hand as shoulders shook. Sending a shiver down her body as you felt her body shake. You chuckled as you let go of her soaked pussy, her precum sticking to your lips as you let your tongue back into your mouth.

"Getting to you seraphim?" You chuckled a bit as you looked up at Sera. Your hands squeeze at her thighs a bit. Sera's wings ruffled a bit as she opened her eyes to look down at you with a glare.

You and Sera both knew this was unholy, but that didn't stop you from getting her annoyed with reminding her about it. You already did unholy acts with killing sinners once a year, so it didn't really affect you, but Sera...

It's a whole different story.

"Don't. I don't care about that right now. So don't remind me -" Sera was saying as she continued to look down at you, but you smirked up at her with your head moving back in. You let your tongue out and shoved it into her pussy

Sera's eyes widened as she covered her mouth again, letting a moan escape as her wings ruffled up, making a couple of her extra eyes come out of her wings as she leaned back in her chair.

Her left hand made claw marks in the wood as her fingers curled up into a fist. Making her hand shak as her legs tensed up, making them move a tiny bit but, your hands kept her legs pushed apart as your hands squeezed them gently.

Your tongue moved slowly as your mouth moved against her. Getting every taste of her. Your light hums seemed to give her a slight more pleasure as her body began to shiver all over. Her face grew hotter as her moans were getting harder to hide.

Soon, Sera felt her lower body get hot as she felt like she was gonna break any minute. The way your mouth moved licked and sucked at her. Sera's hand then went to your head. Her large hand gripped onto your head as she pushed your head more into her

"Don't stop" Sera moaned out, moving her hand away for a second but a moan came out as she tried to cover her mouth again. You chuckled a bit as you continued to move your tongue in her. Feeling her clench every.

You sucked a licked as your hands moved against Sera's thighs, slightly massaging her thighs. Sera's hand tightened on your head as her fingers intertwined with your hair. You can feel her shaking, and you can hear her moans get louder as she leaned her head back.

Sera's moans grew louder as her hand held the back of your head tightly, her body tensed up as she tried her best to muffle her moans. But it was proofing not to work anymore as she was close to reaching her limit.

"Oh my goodness," Sera spoke into her hand as she felt her climax about to come. You smiled as you speeded up your moments. Your lips sucked and moved as you felt the back of your head get pushed as Sera's fingers gripped at your head

Sera muffled into her hand as she cummed around your tongue, her hips bucking as she tried her best to hide her moans but, they were still loud. Her back arching as her wings stretched out, along with multiple eyes being formed.

You hummed with you closing your eyes and swallowing any bit of cum Sera released. Your hands gently creased her thighs as you pulled away, your tongue falling out as you whipped off your mouth.

"How was that high-ranking seraphim?" You said with a smirk as you let your head rest against her thigh, only for Sera to grab you by your exorcsit uniform and kiss you. Her hands gripped tightly at your uniform as she let go of this kiss

"Don't. Or I'll throw you out of this office without you getting a turn, " Sera said as she looked down at you, along with all her other eyes staring at you. You blushed bright as you raised a hand up to go in one of her curls

"You're so damn beautiful," you said with a smile as you couldn't care if this was unholy. Sera's eyes widened a bit as she looked down at you with a shocked expression. Not expecting that answer, but....

She really couldn't care either.

Sera pushed away any paperwork she was doing as she flicked her hand to lock the door as she pushed you onto the desk. Your eyes widened as you looked up at Sera. Your face blushed bright red as she stood up slowly.

"And so are you. But without clothes... I think you'll look more beautiful, " Sera said as her hand gripped at your uniform. Her eyes glowed a bright cyan as she smiled down at you.

Ready switch turns.

**

Again, sorry if it was written poorly, but thanks for reading more is coming. I swear on it. I'm just tired as fuck

[darlingmbappe]

Innocent Offer | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: Kylian begrudgingly admits his lack of sexual experience to you. As a good friend would, you offer him some help. Based on this request.

Warnings: Literally just smut, so minors don't you dare. Keep scrolling, nothing to see here! Virgin!Kylian, experienced!reader. Oral (male receiving), friends to lovers kinda, cussing. This was repurposed from another fic I wrote while I was in another fandom. I'm 99% sure I fixed all of the names/inconstancies. It's a little short, sorry guys! Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

“You’re lying.” The accusing words come out of your mouth through a smirk. The boy sat across from you leaning on the headboard of the huge daybed in his gameroom with crossed arms, avoiding your gaze after having just admitted something he never thought he would. Especially to you — the girl he’s been silently (but heavily) crushing on for at least an entire year.

Kylian scoffed, pinching at a loose thread on his T-shirt sleeve. “Now, why the hell would I lie about that?”

You sit on the same bouncy mattress he did, leaning on one arm while you try to catch his eyes. He’s clearly embarrassed — not that he has to be. You didn’t want to make him feel bad about it, but couldn’t help yourself from making sure you heard him right.

“You’ve never gotten a blowjob?” He purses his lips as an answer. “A handy?” He shakes his head slightly, trying to focus on anything but your interrogation. “Not even before...”

He throws his arms down in frustration. “No, alright? Let’s just make it clear that no girl has ever seen my dick and move on. Please.” He snaps in a mumble, feeling slightly humiliated at the topic of conversation.

Your hands raise in defeat, committing yourself to dropping it for his sake.

You haven’t known Kylian for that long, a little over a year at most. What began as an acquaintance through friends of friends developed into a strange friendship of its own. After getting formally introduced to each other four times at separate events and droning ‘we’ve met’ each time, there was a sort of unspoken fellowship. Once you finally got to speak at someone's birthday party at the open bar, you two didn’t stop for hours. Laughing and trading stories until your separate groups dragged you both away. Now, you see him constantly. You were always getting those 'come over' texts the second he got home from training. You two just clicked.

You watched his chest rise and fall as he did his best to focus on the giant TV mounted on the wall, giving your eyes time to feed on his tense shoulders, his exposed collar bone begging to be kissed.

You wanted him to relax; you’re not judging him, you just couldn’t believe he was a virgin. He’s just so confident… and so goddamn sexy. You were actually kind of convinced he was a man-whore. You’ve seen all these women throw themselves at him over the course of just one year, but you never thought about the fact that you’d never seen him go home with any of them until just this second.

The words ‘no girl has ever seen my dick’ echoed in your head, your thoughts have been reduced to more perverted ones. You cared about Kylian so much and you noticed the way he looked at you sometimes, so you tried to be flirty and let him know that you were very much interested... but he would turn away and get shy about it each time. You just assumed he wasn’t into you and cut your losses, satisfied enough with a close friendship with the global star. Now, you’re thinking maybe he wasn’t uninterested, just flustered.

You crawled up the bed and sat next to him shoulder-to-shoulder, leaning your back on the headboard. He stayed completely still as he felt the heat of your body next to his, wishing he had just lied or something. 

Kylian looked back at his lap. “Will you stop looking at me like that?” You furrow your eyebrows, his words snapping you out of your own head. “It’s just… My whole life I've been so focused on becoming the world's greatest football star and then… I don’t know. Time flew by and all of the sudden I’m twenty four and still a…” He cuts himself off avoiding the V-word, simultaneously contradicting his whole let’s move on plea. He gulps, fiddling with his ring as if he had never seen one before. “I… I’m not going to be any good at it and I feel like women have all these expectations while sleeping with a football player, and I don’t want to embarrass myself. At this point I have to wait until it’s someone I trust, but I don’t have time for a relationship. Maybe I’m thinking too much about it.” He shrugs. “It’s not on purpose, is what I'm trying to say.”

You can’t seem to look away. He’s flustered and cute while he chews on the inside of his cheek. Maybe his shy confession has you wanting to take care of him, or maybe the infatuation you’ve suppressed for so long is coming back up to the surface; whatever it was drove you crazy. Crazy enough that you couldn’t stop yourself from saying something so bold. So direct. So out of character...

“Can I give you a blowjob?”

Kylians eyebrows shoot up, whipping his head to the side to finally meet your eyes. You could see him searching for any form of malice, he wondered if you were pulling some sadistic prank on him.

Maybe he didn’t hear you right – it was the only explanation he could come up with.

He opened his mouth to ask, but absolutely nothing came out. His lack of response kept you on the edge of your seat, giving you time to think about what you had just offered. It was ridiculous, inappropriate… he was going to think you were a weirdo. But you couldn’t back out now, it’s already out there. 

“Wh—uh. I… Me?” He eventually stuttered, a blush creeping up his neck and cheeks.

“Who else could I possibly be talking to, Ky?” He just continues to stare. “Look, if you don’t want that, we can just pretend I never said anything.”

“No! I mean… yes. I mean…” He laughed awkwardly, shifting slightly to face you. Your brows pinched together, confused at his mixed response. “A-are being serious?”

“Dead serious, Mbappé.” You could see he was conflicted. You give him a few seconds to think before speaking again. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not just offering because you’ve never had one before. I want to do it for you. I wanna make sure you feel comfortable with the person. No judgments.” The idea of making Kylian moan sends a shiver down your spine. You see him gulp. “But, again, say the word and we’ll forget about this.”

His eyes are so wide looking into yours. “Y-you’re sure about this?” You nod, smiling and taking his hand into yours on his lap. “Then… yeah. Hell yeah.” Kylian grins, the rosey color deepening on his cheeks. He knew he would have to be an idiot to pass up this offer.

With his clear consent, you bite your lip, looking down at your locked hands and extending your fingers to free them from his lazy grip. You began to rub his palm softly, letting your finger graze off onto his jean covered thigh, going over his exposed skin through one of the rips. You applied more pressure as you slowly let your touch get closer to his crotch — Kylian’s breath hitched every time you made your way up.

You sat up on your knees and straddled one of his thighs, you continued your movements with both hands now. Looking up at him, his eyes were barely open but they stayed on you.

“You can tell me to stop at any time, okay hun?” The nickname was new, but felt right in the moment.

“Don’t.” He choked out, his hands now resting on the sheets.

Your right hand finally settled on his semi. The second it landed there he grunted, shifting himself lower on the matress. You wanted to kiss his parted lips, glistening with spit as he quickly went over them with his tongue.

You leaned in but landed your kiss on his neck just below his jaw. You wondered if anyone had ever kissed him there before as you bit the skin gently, earning a muffled groan and another gulp from the man underneath you. You continued a path of wet kisses and hickeys all over his neck, his semi now almost completely hard in his jeans. Pulling back, you looked at Kylian— his eyes threatening to close but prying themselves open, the dim light from his lamp making your spit glisten on his bruising neck. His breathing was quick and heavy. Seeing him like this under you makes you realize… you’ve got it bad for Kylian Mbappé.

Kylian couldn’t believe the sight in front of him. He must be having another one of his wet dreams or maybe took a ball to the head and was hallucinating. He had to reach out and grab your waist to confirm that this was reality. It was actually happening.

Slowly, you pop open the button on his jeans, pulling down the zipper. His erection was begging to be let loose and from what you had felt, he was definitely packing. When he lifted his hips to allow you to pull the material down to his mid thigh, leaving only his blue checkered boxers, you got your first real glimpse at what you had gotten yourself into.

You let out a soft ‘mhm’ as you let your forefinger touch his tip through his boxers, feeling the warm wetness of his precum against the pad.

“Ah, Dieu.” He breathed, digging his fingers into your hips. “Just so you know—hha, putain—I probably… I definitely won’t last long.”

You can see the apologetic look under his hooded eyes already. “Kyks, I’m not expecting you to.” You began playing with the hem of his boxers, lifting his shirt enough to see his belly button, letting your nail scratch at the minimal scruff of his happy trail. “I don’t want you to worry about that, okay?” He nodded, his warm palms rubbing your outer thighs. “I just want you to enjoy it.”

Blowjobs were kind of your thing. Your asshole ex made sure you knew how to give really good head, which was funny since he never once bothered to learn where your clitoris was. Either way, this was your area of expertise — your sexual superpower, if you will.

You pulled his boxers down, watching his length pull down until it released and sprang up, slapping Kylian’s belly.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit.” You said out loud. What a nice cock Kylian had. Long, slightly thick, a perfectly irritated mushroom head twitching against his soft skin. It definitely would be a challenge.

You palmed up his erection in one swift movement, immediately hitching Kylian’s breath, his eyes glued to your every movement. You wrapped your fingers around his tip, letting your thumb spread around his juices. You laid down between his legs, your face now inches away from his throbbing cock.

“Ready?”

“God, yes.”

Your tongue pressed flat against his slit, swirling around and tasting him like a lollipop. He moaned and threw his head back, the sound he made going straight to your aching pussy. The floodgates have opened between your legs with just the first lick, causing you to hum against him.

“Christ, (Y/N).” He hissed at the vibration.

You pulled off for a second, spitting down onto him, using your hand to spread the moisture to make it easier to take him all in. Because you were determined to take every inch of him.

Lowering your head back down, you hollow your cheeks and create suction. He shivered with a harsh exhale and reached to hold your hair back so he could see your face sinking into him.

The second your hands moved to play with his balls, he jolted. “Shit!”

You popped him out of your mouth quickly and concerned. “You don’t like that?”

“Jesus, I love it. Feels so good, amour. So fucking good.” He quickly insisted, involuntarily jutting into your hand that was wrapped around him.

With a smirk upon hearing the nicknames he called you, you took him back into your mouth and continued to squeeze his sack, bobbing your head up and down with your tongue pressed flat against his length, his eyes pressing closed with a loud moan. You looked up at him through your lashes until his eyes finally opened and met yours. Taking this opportunity, you shoved him all the way down your throat, your lips pressing against his pelvis, your nose buried in his bush of neatly trimmed hair.

He gasped then moaned, trying to form a coherent praise for you, but it came out muddled between huffs of air. You shook your head slightly against him suppressing your gag reflex as he continued to mumble incoherently under your grasp. You came back up for air, jerking him off as you stared at him… so pretty. “I- I can’t… merde. I’m gonna cum soon if you pull that shit again.”

“Am I making you feel so good, Ky?” You innocently asked.

“The fuck do you think?” He jokingly retorts at his disheveled state, making you giggle. “So good.” You had begun sucking on one of his balls, licking and swirling it in your mouth. Both his hands lifted to cover his red face and his tummy moved quickly with every breath.

You licked a stripe back up to his tip, taking all of him back your mouth without warning, deepthroating him once again. His tip pushed back behind your uvula and you were quickly bobbing your head up and down, letting his sensitive head rub back and forth against the back of your throat.

All you could hear was your gurgling sounds and Kylian’s loud huffs of air until his moans became more prominent. “I’m g-gonna cum—oh fuck—ahh!”

His warning wasn’t much of a warning, immediately feeling the hot spurts of white fill your mouth and trickle down your open throat. Your one hand squeezed his balls while the other scratched down his exposed thigh. He moaned and his whole body was twitching, squirming his legs around. You helped Kylian ride out his high until there was definitely no more cum left to give.

You lifted off of him gasping for air, swallowing everything he had given you. You looked down at his still twitching cock as it began to soften, wet with your spit and his own cum.

Now sitting up on your knees, you both caught your breaths until you broke the silence, growing impatient. “So..?”

His eyes peered into yours, a satisfied smile taking over his features. Broken between breaths, he finally spoke. “That had to be… the best blowjob… in the history… of blowjobs.”

You laughed, swinging your legs over the bed and stretching out your back. “Careful Kyks, you’re gonna give me a big head.”

“You just gave me big head.” He chuckled, pulling his clothes back to their rightful place.

You shook your head and blushed. “You’re ridiculous.” You looked at the time on your phone. “Shit. I'm late for my shift.”

He sat up as you hurriedly grabbed your things. You probably should have checked the time before you offered oral to your best friend.

“What—you’re leaving? You can’t leave… I didn’t even get to return the favor.” He argued.

“I didn’t realize that was part of the deal.” You quirked a brow as you put your boots on.

“I mean…” He blushed, watching your every move. “I’d like for it to be.” He stuttered.

You stood up smirking, walking to stand over him on his bed. Leaning down, you planted a kiss on his cheek, close to his mouth. “I’ll see you later, okay, big boy?”

You left him speechless when you walked out of his room, frozen in place. The touch of your lips against his skin invaded his body with goosebumps and then he realized: he never got to kiss you.

He knew now that no other girl could be his first. It had to be you.

Y/N: Short and filthy! So, like I mentioned, this was repurposed from an old fan account I had for a separate fandom a year or so ago. Love y'all!

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @b-bradshaw @http-isabela @zoeeeruiz @mitruscity @kenanlotus0 @mbapbaesluvr @alwaysclassyeagle @nhatquynh @philipetchebest @ricsaigaslec @dfswfvf @urfav-tz @kylianswag @fanatica2023 @alexisquinnlee-bc @megannandrewss @christianpulisic10 @pleasantducktimetravel @forevernightmaree @sachaa-ff @neymarloverxxx @4nn4rchive @lunamelona @m-uga @venomwh0re @edgyficuselastica @slaywhatyouwannaslay41 @pietromaximoffsbabe @krishnan-mbappe

[wisellamawerewolf]

I feel sorry for people trying to coherently analyze this mf:

*Rant under the cut*

I've seen people speculate that Adam hides his bitterness towards Lucifer behind his rockstar-like persona, because Lucifer essentially doomed his children to eternal suffering. Or talking about his friendship/partnership/relationship with Lute, ect.

Now, if it was a better show and didn't know anything about VivziePop, I might have been inclined to believe you, but honestly? I think the only reason Viv decided to make Adam a main antagonist for the season is because she could write Lucifer saying: "haha I fucked your wife". Well, this and maybe also to hammer in the "Heaven is hypocritical" narrative.

Honestly I wish people who try to look deeper into the character wrote the show, because this guy lacks a coherent motivation. And no, "I'm bored" is not a good motivation for someone who by his own admition commits a genocide of his own children.

To be fair, he also mentions how humanities was supposed to worship him but like... Why? Is there something in hellaverse version of bible about Adam? Is Adam like a legit deity in this universe? And even if the whole speach was just supposed to showcase an insane level of entitlement he has, I've gotta once again ask: why is he like that?

In my general review I mentioned how he straight up broke the lore with his existence, and I want to elaborate on that a little: Adam was supposedly created BEFORE the evil seep into the earth, but despite him and Lilith being created as equals and I assume roughly at the same time, he just demands control? For no apparent reason? And angels were not at all concerned about it? There's also no signs of favoritism towards him, because we don't know what other angels even think about him. I guess they like him enough to not kick him out of heaven, and they kinda correct his behavior sometimes, but there's zero significant characterization we're getting from the fact that he's in heaven. Honestly a single episode following him and the life in heaven in general could've given us so much, but then there wouldn't be any time left for the millions of other VivziePop's characters to show up and do jackshit, and we can't have that.

He might have been an interesting pick to pin against Charlie and her father if anyone but Viv were to write him, but as always, she had an interesting idea she completely failed to execute, because she's just not interested enough in it.

As to his relationship with Lute... Honestly, I have no idea what are they supposed to be besides maybe a boss and a subordinate. They have a total number of ONE dialogues, where they talk about Vaggie being an ex-exterminator.

The rest of their "interactions" are:

- Adam makes a remark, Lute nods;

- Lute makes a remark, Adam counteracts with another remark, often in a detached way;

- A single fist bump;

- Adam smiled at her before death.

People treat him smiling at Lute before his death as some sort indicator of character, but I think it was either an attempt to give some sort of last-minute charaterization to two hollow cardboards or just a cheap drama/shipping fuel. Lute NEVER showed she liked him once before his death scene, and even it was too vague to say certainly. It was never showed that she felt any emotion towards him or anything he says, at this rate this girl might also be madly in love with fucking air, because she also show zero reaction towards it.

In a way, I kinda find it funny how Adam calls himself "the original dick" while he is an embodiment of VivziePop's male characters: he's an overly confident genocidal maniac who makes misogynistic remarks, constantly talks about sex, swears every few seconds and has a big toothy grin.

He behaved the same as Angel Dust or Alastor, but the reason we're supposed to hate him is because he *checks notes* has a pastel color scheme and is fat, apparently??? I'm honestly not sure it was supposed to be the same as "Moxxie is fat" joke or Adam is really supposed to be fat, but do uh... do artists working on your show know that? Because in some scenes there's literally zero indication of him being fat:

Unless of course he hides a giant dump truck of an ass under his robe.

Concerning his possible return in the second season: idk, I don't really care? His addition so far has been very superficial, but Viv might like him enough to actually bring him back in a demon form and either kill him off the second time, or woobify him like she did with a couple of other "flawed" characters. I honestly doubt we will get more from this guy regardless if he's gonna reappear or not. I'm not even sure if the proper backstory is gonna save his character at this point, even if we're going to get it in the second season (I'm VERY sceptical that it will happen).

Conclusions: he's as flat as a cardboard cutout. Had the potential to be interesting, I liked him in concept, but the execution is lacking as always. I guess the fact that he was voiced by Alex Brightman is neat, and I liked his song from the first episode, but that's about it.

[bit-dodgy-innit]

We're Not Here to F*ck Spiders

Summary: You were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel took a special interest in you. He wanted to know if your life would correspond with his and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. After an offhanded comment about reviewing your canon with Miguel outside of headquarters, your relationship with Spider-Man 2099 is forever changed.

Set in between ITSV and ATSV.

Pairing: Marc x OC Female!Reader

For context, Reader is an alternate, grown-up version of Mayday due to personal reasons (personal reasons being I’ve been obsessed with Mayday Parker since I was baby child)! No real use of Y/N, though Miguel does refer to the reader as "May" twice and Peter Parker nicknamed her Mayhem. Peter B.'s daughter is Mayday.

Word Count: 10.2k words (see why this took me forever?!)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!

CW/TW: An obscene amount of world-building, parents and kids fighting, mentions of a loss of a child, everyone being hot for Miguel, rough-ish sex (both partners are superheroes, come on), our boy is HUNG, dirty talk, a bit of cocky dom!Miguel, oral f!receiving, a lil bit of both m and f!receiving nipple play, PIV sex, riding, a quick spank, creampie, felching, and perhaps most intense of all, Miguel’s fear of commitment.

A/N: hahahahahaha this movie is nearly a year old and I FINALLY got around to writing a fic for it! Trust that I've been working on this on and off for a while now, but life has been nuts and writing more and more for work (yay!) but wanted to get this out while I had a slow week for everyone to enjoy!

Also, due to more personal reasons, my HC for Reader's parents are Peter and Mary Jane from Sam Raimi's masterpiece in 2002. But no presh if that doesn't jibe with ya!

I MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS FIC AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE PROUD OF ANYTHING

“Careful, Mayday!” you fondly called after the child who was literally bouncing off the cavernous walls of HQ. Yeesh, were you this energetic when you were her age? Probably. It never ceased to be weird, hanging out with an alternate baby version of yourself, but you could manage if you pretended she was your little niece, or sister, or something like that. 

The alternate baby version of Mayday Parker in question didn’t heed your admonishment at all (which tracked), so you called again, “Oh noooo…I’m gonna have to come up there and get ya!”

Mayday squealed in delight at your “threat” and only zipped around quicker. However, you had a couple decades on her, so your reflexes were more attuned. It didn’t take long for you to capture her in your grasp and tickle her. However, little Mayday wasn’t going to give up that easily. She squirmed out of your hold and began scaling the nearby wall at a dizzying pace. 

“Okay, missy, let’s settle down,” you announced, shooting a web to meet the infant on the platform she’d crawled onto. You continued to speak as you swung, “you know how Miguel is, we can’t get too carried…away.”

You nearly threw yourself back off the platform when you were met with the sight of Miguel himself standing before you holding May. 

“Oh, hi,” you gestured to the squirming girl in his hands, “thanks. I was right behind her.” 

“What am I like?” He asked, an inquisitive arch in his brow. 

“You’re…you run a tight ship that’s all,” you wished a portal would swallow you whole. “And it’s great! We need it.”

“Are you supposed to be anywhere?” Miguel prodded further as he passed you May. 

“Me? No, it's my day off.”

“Then why are you here?” 

“Because you put Peter B. on a mission and it gives me anxiety when he takes her.” 

“You and me both,” he huffed. 

“That being said, anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah actually, I have new sequencing to go over with you.” 

Though the multiverse was ever-expanding, you were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel had taken a special interest in you. Since you were a second generation Spider, Miguel wanted to know if your life would correspond with his, your dad’s, and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. You initially found the whole concept fascinating, yet that interest waned pretty quickly when Miguel informed you that he was going to have Lyla analyze your entire life and have you expound on your experiences so he could compare you to the other Spiders. 

Not that there was anything you were particularly ashamed of, but some of this stuff was embarrassing. Unlike baby Mayday, whose powers had already emerged, yours didn’t make an appearance until puberty. Reviewing your awkward teen years wasn’t exactly your ideal way of spending time with an unfairly hot guy, let alone the head of Spider Society.  

“Oh okay, yeah,” you replied. “When Peter gets ba—“

“MAYDAY! WHERE’S MY PUMPKIN?” Peter’s voice echoed across the room. 

No sooner had Peter spoken did Mayday websling herself off of the platform and into her father’s arms. 

Shit, there went your excuse. A nervous chuckle escaped you, “Convenient.” 

“Sí. Follow me.”

You did as Miguel said and trailed behind him to his…office didn’t quite describe it. Work station? Lair? You lasted all of forty-five seconds before your gaze dropped to his sculpted backside, a new record for you. 

It really was unfair that the intense, ornery leader of the Spider Society had to be so damn fine. You were a superhero and a consummate professional, but at the end of the day, you were a mostly heterosexual human woman with eyes. Miguel was stupidly sexy. His shoulder-to-waist ratio, that chiseled face, and of course, perfectly round ass had been the topic of a few hushed, giggly conversations between you and the other Spiders that liked boys. 

It was only ever cheeky whispers however. All of you knew better than to catch any real feelings for Miguel. One, it was majorly inappropriate. And two, he’d built emotional walls higher than the tallest skyscrapers in Nueva York. 

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander every now and then…you blamed it on your latest breakup. Spider-Girl duties had yet again claimed another potential partner. You suspected that was the reason it was more and more difficult not to fantasize about Miguel lately. Like sure, he was probably an animal in bed in the best way, but it was the prospect of not having to hide anything from him that appealed to you even more. 

“Lyla, bring up the latest sequencing,” Miguel ordered. 

If it weren’t for your spider-senses, you would’ve collided with his impossibly cut back, you were so deep into your thirsty thoughts. 

Suddenly, you were back on Earth-982A in your childhood bedroom. Or at least, that’s where you appeared to be. The virtual surroundings would’ve been comforting if it weren’t for the particular event that Miguel had wanted to revisit. 

Your father was forbidding you to use your powers. Again. You gazed at the rendering of your teenage self with compassion. Now, your father was fully supportive of you following in his footsteps, but the journey there had been rough. 

“You know, most parents would be happy if their kid wanted to do something to help the world!” 

Your dad scoffed. “That doesn’t matter - I’m not most parents and you’re not most kids!”

“Yeah and whose fault is that?!” Virtual you fired back. “I was born like this because of you! Dad, you’re always telling me that ‘with great power, comes great responsibility’ and now when I discover I inherited that great power, I can’t use it!?” 

“Pause,” Miguel’s voice spooked you back into the present. When you finally shook yourself from the memory that was playing before you, you found his eyes on yours. “Okay, there. Define ‘always’.”

“Quantitatively?” 

“Preferably.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“Qualitatively, then.” 

“I mean, it's one of those things he said so much that I can’t remember the first time I heard it.” 

“When did your dad first hear it?” 

“His Uncle Ben told him during their last conversation together.” 

“Checks out. And how old was he?” 

“He was a senior in high school, so like seventeen, eighteen?” 

Miguel nodded. Even though x-ray vision nor telepathy weren’t in your powerset, you could practically see all the comparisons and calculations he was making in his head. 

“So using your powers to help people, that was your instinct when you inherited your abilities.”

“Yeah.” 

Miguel nodded again. 

“It’s different, isn’t it?” you asked him. He didn’t reply. “My dad told me he entered some god awful cage-match-wrestling-thing to get enough money to buy a car and impress my mom before he officially became Spider-Man.” 

Miguel was seemingly too busy with entering his latest data to respond. Instead, he barked at Lyla, “Resume sequence.” 

The holographic version of your dad lurched back to life to argue, “May, you are my great responsibility! So if I say no powers, no powers! I did this a lot longer than you! ” 

Tears streamed down your adolescent face. Thankfully, you’d lost some of the baby fat since.  “I hate you! I HATE YOU DAD!!” 

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This wasn’t easy to live, let alone re-live. So, as a Spider, naturally you made a jaunty, off-handed comment. “Wow, you really know how to show a girl a good time.” 

“Qué?” 

“Nothing.” He fixed you with his signature scowl so you elaborated, “Seriously, nothing. Though, maybe if we did this in an environment where I had access to alcohol and carbs, this would be less um…less unsettling for me.”

Miguel stared at you blankly. “But the simulator is here.”

“Right, of course.” Ughhhh, why was he so damn pretty?! “Forget I said anything, Miguel.” 

He dropped it, but before the simulation could start again, your gizmo beeped. Benji’s basketball game started in twenty. 

“Actually, sorry, I have to go.” 

“But we just got started.” 

“I know, but I haven’t been able to catch one of my little brother’s games yet this season, and it’s almost the playoffs.”

“Won’t he under–”

You interrupted Miguel. “You realize spider-stuff is not a viable excuse with my family, right? Besides, it’s my day off. I’m only here out of the goodness of my own heart and my commitment to the Spider-Society.” 

He rolled his eyes at your remark, but couldn’t help a little half - nay, quarter - smile from forming across the lips you had fantasized about kissing one too many times. “Things are quiet for once. We should knock this out now.” 

“We should,” you conceded as you created a portal, “but trying to have some semblance of work-life balance is Spider-Girl canon.”

And with that, you hopped back into your world, before you could change your mind or say anything else stupid and/or unintentionally flirty to Miguel. 

You re-appeared in your apartment with just enough time to throw on clothes and swing over to the middle school. Your mom was waiting as you hurried into the gym right as Benji and the other players were taking the court. 

“Look who made it,” MJ observed wryly. 

“Ha ha,” you fired back humorlessly, but pulled your mom into a hug all the same. “Where’s Dad?”

The ref’s whistle signaled tip off and the beginning of the game, momentarily distracting you two. You were thrilled to see Benji starting – he really wanted to make JV when he started high school next year, and this was a step in the right direction. 

“Go Benji!!” MJ cheered before answering your question, “He hit traffic coming from the station. He’ll be here soon.” 

Your collective attention was pulled to the game unfolding in front of you, then MJ asked, “What have you been up to today?” 

“Me? I was at the society for a bit, helping with the baby.”

You didn’t need to see your mother to know that she tensed at the mention of the Spider-Society and Peter B.’s Mayday. It, understandably, weirded her out. 

“How can it not be strange to care for–”

“It would be if we were closer in age,” you pointed out. “But it’s just like babysitting with Mayday right now. And trust me, after all the versions of Dad I’ve met, hanging out with little me is nothing.” 

Despite being weirded out, your mom always tried to empathize, so she switched gears. “Anything interesting happen?” 

“Ugh, just more sequencing with Miguel - today was a tough one.”

“Why?”

“Fights with Dad from years ago that I know we’ve moved past, but still suck to watch.” 

Your mom took your hand in hers, a much-needed grounding gesture. “Well, you’re back in the present, in your corner of the universe now, sweetie.” 

You gave her hand an appreciative squeeze and took her words to heart, focusing on the basketball game in front of you. It didn’t take too long to put the earlier events from headquarters behind you – Benji scored a couple baskets and you took it upon yourself to meticulously document the game on your phone for memories and possible future blackmail. 

When your Dad did join you and MJ, you couldn’t help but hug him tightly. You buried your face into his coat, which smelled like a mix of smoke from the streets and his aftershave. 

It was Peter’s mix of spider and paternal instincts that prompted him to ask, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” you assured him, giving him some space. “I just–I love you, Dad.” 

“Love you too, Mayhem.” Where Mayday was Peter B’s moniker for his daughter, Mayhem was your dad’s nickname for you.

The game ended in victory for Benji’s team, the Midtown Mavericks, and you three waited for the youngest member of the Parker family to emerge from the locker room. 

Benji’s face when he saw you made any lingering discomfort you had leaving Miguel one thousand percent worth it. “You made it!” 

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you pulled Benji into a hug - however reluctant he was to it since he was a ~teenager~ now. “Dude, you put up points tonight!” 

But Benji had gotten distracted, so instead of responding to you, he murmured “Woah, that guy is swole.” 

You turned around to see who he was talking about and your jaw nearly hit the floor. 

It was Miguel. 

Even more incredibly, he was in civilian clothes. It wasn’t until you witnessed him in dark wash jeans, a henley, and a well-worn bomber jacket that you realized that you’d actually never seen Miguel in anything other than his spider suit. 

He called your name and you acknowledged him with a wave, flabbergasted. Even more astonished that you knew this very attractive hunk of man was your brother, “Wait, you know him?!”

“We work together,” you said quietly. 

“At the paper?” Benji was confused. 

“No, at my other job.” 

“Oh,” it clicked for him. “That makes sense. Man, I hope I get that jacked when I get my powers.” 

“Shhhh, be cool Benji,” you urged him. 

“Um, I’m not the one you have to worry about,” he harrumphed. “Oh shit, you like him.”

Though there was more than a decade between you and Benji, your little brother was still your little brother.  “No! He’s the head of the Spider-Society and he’s–you’ll see.” 

You took a step forward to greet Miguel before anyone else from your family could get to him. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” 

“I wanted to finish our work today, and since it’s your day off, I decided to come to you.” 

“Miguel O’Hara making a compromise? How not canon. Wonder how big of a hole that’s gonna tear in the multiverse.” 

“Shut up,” he ordered you playfully. 

“Miguel, good to see you!” Your dad strode over and pulled the younger spider-man into a handshake. 

“You too, Dr. Parker.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how oddly deferential Miguel was with your dad. He’d met Peter first, when he was establishing the Arachnohumanoid Polymultiverse. Miguel was stunned to discover that this Peter was not only retired, but had a full-grown daughter who’d taken up his crime-fighting mantle. Apparently your dad’s canon was particularly important and central to the greater Spiderverse, which meant Miguel would pester you with questions about him constantly. 

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, “You don’t usually make house calls.” 

Before Miguel could explain, an elbow nearly sent you into careening into his broad chest. Mom. 

“Miguel, this is my mom, Mary Jane.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker,” Miguel dutifully offered his hand to her. 

“The pleasure is mine,” your mom gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Benji was right. He was not the person you had to be worried about. A rip in the multiverse to swallow you whole would be rather convenient right about now. 

Miguel’s brow creased. “You have?”

“She hasn’t,” you intervened. “Like two or three things in passing, max. Promise I haven’t broken my NDA or you know, the superhero code of secrecy or anything.” 

Mercifully, Miguel let it slide for the time being. He turned to your brother. “And you must be Benji.” 

“Yeah,” Benji confirmed, doing a terrible job of pitching his voice lower. “‘Sup, bro.” 

Jesus Christ. At this point, you were ready to rip the fabric of reality yourself to end this. 

“Congrats on the win. Hate to do this, but I need to steal your sister for a bit.” 

“No problem, I know she’s fine with it.” Perhaps Benji needed a reminder regarding which sibling had the super powers. “Also, what’s your workout–”

“Well, as fun as this all is, we should probably get back to work.”

Your family didn’t put up much of a fight – thank God – as pleasantries were exchanged and you and Miguel took off. You hoped Miguel didn’t catch when your mother mouthed “So handsome!!” to you as everyone said their goodbyes. Finally, it was just the two of you walking down East 36th Street. 

“Sorry about them,” you began. 

He looked at you, puzzled. “Why?” 

“My family. Embarrassing.” 

“They’re not embarrassing. They’re…they’re nice,” there was pain behind Miguel’s eyes. “It’s interesting. Your brother hasn’t experienced any spider-abilities, has he?” 

“No,” you confirmed. “Not yet.”

You two slowed to stop on the corner. Miguel looked at you expectantly. “So, where to?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you wanted to do this in an environment where you ‘had access to alcohol and carbs’.” 

“Oh! Right. Hmmm, where are we?” you looked up at the cross streets above you. “36th and 3rd? I know a place.” 

You took Miguel to a little hole-in-the-wall Italian spot nearby. Since it was so close to Benji’s school and your old middle and high school, you had spent many a week night at their tables, either working on homework or chowing down after basketball practice. 

Therefore, the staff knew you – it was a family owned spot, you’d basically grown up with the owner’s children, Maria and Chris. Though you graduated from Midtown Charter a looong time ago, they still took care of you. Maria had even let you use their first aid kit once, no questions asked, after a nasty Spider-Girl skirmish nearby. You didn’t suspect she knew anything, but even if she did, you could trust Maria to be discreet. 

At least, you thought you could trust Maria, but when she showed you and Miguel to your table, and Miguel made a pit stop at the restroom, she very indiscreetly asked, “Daaaamn, girl. He your boyfriend? Because you–”

“No!”

“You getting dicked down by him?” 

“No!” 

“Can I get dicked down by him? He single? Does he like the ladies?” 

“Maria, he’s a colleague. Actually, he’s my superior. So no…unfortunately, no.” 

Maria cackled with delight. “That’s a pen worth sticking in your company ink. I’ll bring you some garlic bread.”

“And a glass of red wine,” you added. “no, a bottle.”

“That’s my girl!” 

In theory, you had thought that reviewing sequencing outside of headquarters would’ve been less awkward, but in reality, it was more so. You couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of Miguel in normal clothes, the intimacy of having a meal together when usually your interactions were so sterile and professional, plus there was a little voice in your head screaming that THIS WAS BASICALLY A DATE on repeat.

“So should we pick up where we left off?” Miguel asked. The question brought you back down to Earth. Despite that little persistent voice in your head oohing and ahhing at him, it was clear that Miguel didn’t think this was a date. This dinner was a means to end, nothing more. 

“Let me get a little wine drunk first,” you bargained. 

“Yeah, but you have sped-up metabolism, so that’ll take at least–” 

“That was a joke. Miguel, when was the last time you went out to dinner?” 

He seemed to truly consider the question, then, “I don’t know.” 

You’d never heard Miguel say those three words in that order before. 

“I promise you I will go over my cringe teen years with you, but can we eat some garlic bread and not get drunk off this very nice bottle of wine first?” 

“You’re worse than Lyla,” his eyes narrowed. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“She’s always trying to get me to take breaks.”

“You should! There’s only so much self-flagellation a human can take, even if they’re a superhero.” 

Miguel’s response was a very inarticulate grumble. Maria dropped off the wine, bread, and took your order. You didn’t know what was more insane – the amount of food Miguel ordered or how unabashedly Maria was ogling him. 

“Let me guess, Lyla’s the one who suggested the field trip to my home dimension?”

Another grumble, this one in the affirmative. 

“Classic,” you remarked with a snort before taking a gulp from your glass. “I love that your AI is smarter than you.” 

“Of course she is, she can access all of the multiverse’s knowledge in a nano-second.’

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” 

“Can we not talk about me for a second?” 

“Why?” 

“Because…because, I don't know, I was hoping doing this in a more casual environment would–it’d make it feel more like a conversation.” 

“We are having a conversation.” 

“Jeez, Miguel,” you took another sip of wine. “It’s not easy digging through my past like this. A lot of the time it feels more like an interrogation.” 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I want to help you, help the Spider-Society, but the one-sidedness of this is exhausting.”

“Exhausting.” He sounded dubious. 

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll take care of the bill and see you tomorrow, and we can go back to reviewing the sequencing like we normally do. I should know better than to complain to you.” 

Miguel looked at you if your words had stung him. “You can complain to me.” 

“No, I can’t,” you disputed. “You’re the most self-sacrificing Spider out of any of us–which is really saying something, by the way–and I feel lame talking about my feelings with you.”

“And that’s why our reviews feel like interrogations,” he was putting it together. 

“Yeah. Sorry to drag you out of HQ.”

Miguel scrutinized you with a long, unreadable look before announcing, “I’m not leaving before I have my bolognese.”

You didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Miguel may have lacked the traditional spidey precognitive sense, and the signature spider sense of humor, but he definitely had the stubbornness you all seemed to possess. 

You shot him a sidelong glare. “Why did you come here?” 

“I told you - I wanted to finish sequencing and Lyla suggested coming to you.” 

“But you didn’t have to take her suggestion.”

Miguel’s large frame shifted in the chair that suddenly appeared too small for him. “Like you said, she’s smarter than me, so I did. And yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out to dinner.”

You didn’t know how to react to that. Right before the silence became intolerable, Miguel spoke again, “You still with that gu–’

“No.” The last thing you wanted to talk about with Miguel was your failed relationship with Gene, and you’d once discussed the correlation of getting your first period could’ve had with your powers emerging with him.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I mean, you get it.”

Miguel at last took a sip from his glass. “All too well.” 

“The price of being a hero, right?” you sent him a small, sympathetic smile across the table. “Or at least that’s what I tell myself.” 

“Your parents seemed to have figured it out,” he pointed out. 

“Well, that took like decades, and according to you, they’re canon, right? So it was meant to be. I guess that’s one of the comforts of having a canon-confirmed soulmate.” 

“Yeah, if you're Peter Parker.” 

Your heart sank at the implication. “So that means if a Spider isn’t Peter we’re meant to die alone?” 

“I don’t know,” Miguel’s eyes were averted. “Maybe only if you’re a Miguel O’Hara.” 

“Stop, you could get anyone in this restaurant to sleep with you,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Our waitress has to resist climbing on top of you whenever she passes the table.”

He swatted away the implication as if it were a pest. “That’s different.”

“You know, it might help with the stress.”

“What?”

“Letting someone climb on top of you.”

Miguel glared at you, “Don’t.”

“See? It’s not fun being on the other side of the questions,” you smirked. Your conversation was briefly suspended when Maria returned with your entrees. After thanking her, you refocused back on Miguel, “Can I ask you something else?”

“No.”

“DADA!” A child, who couldn’t have been more than three, screeched happily from a neighboring table. 

Miguel froze. For the first time in the several months that you’d known him, you saw his face soften. The warmth that filled his eyes at the sight of the toddler was undeniable. The fond expression hardened back into his stoic facade within an instant, yet Miguel couldn’t fully conceal the anguish that clearly still haunted him. He never could. 

“Sorry,” you said softly. 

He shook off your condolences. “What’d you want to ask me?” 

“Have you tried seeing anyone after…” it felt forbidden to say Gabriella’s name out loud. 

“What’s the point?” Miguel shrugged. “I don’t have the time, even if I wanted to.” 

“Right,” you hedged. 

Eventually, you and Miguel were able to find things to talk about outside of work and your respective traumas. You compared notes on the lamest villain you’d each encountered rounding up anomalies, discussed the idea of a nursery for spider-babies, or as Miguel insisted on calling them, “second-generation Spiders” – Peter couldn’t keep taking his kid on missions, plus Jessica Drew had just learned she was expecting – you even got Miguel to open up about his teenage days some. 

“Makes sense you were a rebel,” you chuckled, taking one last bite of the tiramisu Maria insisted was on the house.  

“Yeah? Why?” Miguel prodded.

“Because you-re so uptigh–upstanding now.” 

You were treated to another rare grin from Miguel, this time a half smile rather than a quarter. “Nice save.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you contended with put-on innocence. 

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t always like what I have to do, you know.” 

Your gaze locked directly with his for a breath-taking second, his eyes garnets in the low light of the dining room. “We should get going, I've taken you away from headquarters for long enough.” 

“You act like I’ve never left HQ before, and if anything, I took you away from your family,” Miguel parried, yet stood up nonetheless. You followed suit, only mildly disappointed he didn’t argue with you about leaving. As awkward as this dinner initially was, you’d actually ended up enjoying it. “I’ll take you home.”

Miguel’s words stopped you in your tracks, “You know I’m the protector of this city, right?” 

“Obviously, I—” he huffed as you waved goodbye to Maria and exited back onto the street. “Mierda May, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

Oh. Oh. Did Miguel think this was a date too? Date was too strong of a word – did Miguel think this was a not-entirely-work-related-hang too? 

You struggled to keep your face blasé. “Ah, okay. We taking the subway or are we swinging?” 

Miguel shot you a look as if the choice was obvious, which is how you found yourself traipsing across the city with Spider-Man 2099. You’d traveled by web plenty of times with Miguel before on missions, but there was something about it being the two of you, in your city, that made it feel just a little bit special. 

And to be honest, you’d never get enough of watching Miguel’s body hurtle through the air – despite his bulk and brawn, he was agile and lithe as he swung from building to building with you. You nearly plunged into traffic on Sixth Avenue after your thoughts had wandered to what those bulging muscles looked like unencumbered by that skin-tight suit of his. 

When you arrived at your apartment in Morningside Heights, you were suddenly self-conscious. You’d never brought a Spider to your residence, and Miguel was likely the hardest to impress of them all. 

He studied your modest one-bedroom with the same intensity as he did his screens at the Spider-Society. 

“It’s not much, I know,” you began, “and with Spider-Girl stuff, I don’t have the time to keep it as tidy as I'd like to.”

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled before catching himself. “I mean, it’s perfect for you.” 

“Yeah, I don’t need much, but it gets good light during the day and was the highest floor I could afford at my price point,” you removed your mask as you babbled on. 

“Makes sense,” Miguel nodded. 

You had no idea where to go from there – what on Earth was the man playing at? Should you offer him water, another drink, the best spot to portal back to HQ? He was lingering in your space, seemingly fascinated by the framed prints on your walls, the photos on the coffee table and credenza. 

“Um, do you need to use the restroom or something? Because it’s right through there,” you motioned to the appropriate door. 

“I’m good for now.”

THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? You hollered in your head. Externally, you kept playing hostess, “Let me get you a glass of water then–”

Yet Miguel caught your wrist before you could retreat into your tiny, galley kitchen. You weren’t proud of how your heart leapt and your breath hitched at the contact. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back?” 

He shrugged, “I should, but–”

“But what?” 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said…about letting someone climb on top of me.” 

You gulped, “Sorry, that was so inappropriate of me–”

“It was. Inappropriate, that is, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea,” he tugged you closer to him. You could barely stand to meet his eyes, alight with desire, while your heart was pounding embarrassingly fast. 

“Um, judging by the–uh, do you want me to climb on top of you, Miguel?” you were always so much smoother in your daydreams about him. 

His lips hovered dangerously near yours. “Do you want to climb on top of me?” 

The closer you got to Miguel, the faster your brain turned to scrambled eggs. His large, sure hands had settled on your hips. 

“Uh huh,” was the best you could muster before he crashed your lips together. 

Miguel’s kiss was searing and all-consuming – it felt as if the longer your mouths moved against each other, the more your body melted into his. He was tall, so tall, and even for a superhero like yourself, it was difficult to keep yourself perched on the balls of your feet to reach his skilled, hungry mouth. 

He seemed to sense your struggle, and without breaking your liplock, he scooped you up into his arms. It was foreign but not unwelcome – you were so used to being the strongest, the person who held others, the hero. Therefore, being held so effortlessly in Miguel’s arms was nothing short of exhilarating. You weren’t the strongest person in the room anymore, you could surrender. You loved it.

Miguel pressed your back into the nearest wall, causing an emphatic moan to leave you when your hips became flush with his. You could already feel him – hot, hard, and big – between the flimsy fabric of your spider-suits. Instinctually, you canted your heat against his, delighting in the way he seemed to grow hotter, harder, not to mention unbelievably bigger, when you did. 

“Bedroom?” he gasped between harsh, ardent kisses. 

You managed to fling a hand in the correct direction, and next thing you knew, Miguel was depositing you onto your bed. You propped yourself up, leaning back on your palms to take in the man towering over you at the edge of your bed. In a flash of color and light, his suit disappeared from his strapping physique, and the sight of Miguel naked intoxicated you more than alcohol ever could. 

His shoulders seemed even broader without the unstable particles of his suit covering them. His pecs were massive, which made a delectable ratio when his chest tapered down to a chiseled abdomen and slim hips. Slim hips that framed the biggest cock you’d seen outside of porn – hell, maybe even including porn. He was long and thick – it made a dark thrill race down your spine when you contemplated how the hell that was going to fit inside of you. 

Miguel noticed you marveling at his package, misinterpreting the rapacious glint in your eye as unease, “I’ll prep you, I won’t hurt you.” 

“Oh, I’m not worried” you glanced back up at his face coquettishly. 

“No?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow and advanced toward you on the bed, a jaguar stalking its prey. He nudged you onto your back and pinned your wrists to your comforter, “maybe you should be.” 

You muscled out of Miguel’s grip and switched positions so you were straddling him. Only then did you lean closer and whisper into his ear, “I can take it.” 

Miguel growled, and within an instant, you were on your back once again as he pawed at your suit. Unlike his costume, your spider-suit was made of plain old fabric, so there was a bit of fumbling, cursing in Spanish, nervous giggling, and a mumbled comment about ‘making you a suit like mine’ from Miguel before you were nude as well. 

He splayed you out against your mattress as if you were a feast before him. Your first instinct was to try and cover yourself but Miguel’s dark gaze froze you. A pleased groan rumbled from his chest and then his large hands flew to your breasts. “Such full, perky tits.”

You moaned in response to his ministrations. How was this real? You and Miguel were touching each other – naked – and you hadn’t woken up yet. 

“It’s all for you,” you mewled, relishing his hot palms on your sensitive buds. 

Another growl ripped from his chest before he swooped down and sucked one of your nipples into his warm, wanting mouth. You keened, a pathetic, high-pitched sound, and you wove your fingers into his dark locks as he gorged himself on your tits. 

The pull of Miguel’s mouth on your peaks was made only better when he snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger along the seam of your sex. You bucked at the touch, your reaction causing Miguel to lift his head from your bosom. 

“Mmmm, you like it when I play with your pussy, cariño?”

At this point words had all but left you so you nodded and whined in the affirmative. Miguel’s digit parted your folds, tracing up and down, then found your clit and rubbed slow, tortuous circles into the nub. 

“So wet for me, bebita,” he observed, maddeningly casually, while he played you like an instrument. “This is all for me, huh?”

Your head thrashed back and forth on your comforter with a sob, both from pleasure and bashfulness. Now there was no downplaying how horny Miguel made you. 

“Shhh,” he cooed at you, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his groin, “feel what you do to me.”

This time your moan was unabashed as your hand circled around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 

“I know,” he grunted. Normally, such braggadocio from a man would be an immediate turn off to you. But Miguel wasn’t being arrogant, not when he was referring to the thick, pulsing hardness you were currently caressing. “Gotta get you ready for me.”  

He guided your hand away from his member, even despite your protests, to wrench your thighs wider and bury his head between them. The realization alone that Miguel O’Hara was about to eat you out almost made you come, yet actually feeling his tongue on your needy cunt was infinitely better. He licked a stripe from your perineum to your clit, tearing another ragged moan from you when his tongue focused in on the bundle of nerves. 

Miguel chuckled against your folds at your enthusiastic praise and redoubled his efforts. Your fingers reflexively tangled in his inky locks once again as he continued his delectable assault on your pussy. The way Miguel tasted you matched with how he seemed to approach everything – he was vehement and determined to bring you pleasure like how he was when he worked. He managed to just stay on the right side of rough as he slurped at you..though perhaps that was a bit different than how he fought.

He speared his tongue into your hole, affording you the opportunity to grind your clit against his prominent nose. In your pleasure-filled haze, you briefly fretted that you were suffocating Miguel, but when you tried to scooch away and give him some air, the man grunted and pulled your hips closer to him.

You keened again when one of his thick fingers joined the fray as he prepped you. After all the sexual tension, all the self-denial, and all the excitement the night had held, it felt so good to clench around something. He was again methodical with his preparation, allowing you to adjust to one digit before adding another, and another. It couldn’t have made a starker contrast with how he was devouring your sex. Even in the bedroom, Miguel O’Hara was full of contradictions. It didn’t take long for your breaths to become more shallow, for your cries to reach a higher pitch as you climaxed around his hefty fingers. The combination of the penetration and the stimulation of your clit with his mouth was too good to resist. 

You were slightly relieved that Miguel remained nestled between your legs while you rode out your peak. The orgasm he’d given you was much too good to be able to control your facial expressions. 

He at last came up for air once you’d begun floating down from your peak. A primal pride surged through you at the sight of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. You couldn’t help but smash your mouths together, eager to sample the combination you two made. It was all too easy to get lost in a kiss with Miguel, yet as you plundered his mouth with your tongue, your hand crept back down his groin. 

This time it was Miguel who moaned into your mouth as you returned him to full mast with feather-light, teasing touches. 

“I need to fuck you,” he gasped between kisses. 

“Finally,” you bantered back. 

A growl from Miguel and then he tackled you back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help the giggle – partly from nerves, partly from anticipation – that escaped you at his actions, despite the visage of a hulking, intimidating man hovering over you could be frightening in another context. 

“Do you have protection?” 

You hesitated. You kept a box of condoms in your bedside drawer, but given Miguel’s size, they’d be inadequate. 

“None that would fit you,” you confessed, stealing another glance at his large erection. It was truly a sight to behold. Miguel deflated slightly, fearing penetration was off the table, and usually it would be. You were firmly a two methods of contraception girl, but there was no way you were going to pass up this chance to have sex with Miguel. “Don’t worry Spidey, I’m on the pill.” 

“Gracias a Dios,” he muttered, then wasted no time situating himself between your hips. He drew yet another mewl from you when he slapped the tip of his cock a few times on your clit before lining himself up with your entrance. 

He found you looking at him expectantly. And though Miguel mostly saw desire in your eyes, he could see the glimpse of unease too. He assured you, “I’ll go slow.” 

You nodded, you trusted him after all, but nothing could prepare you for the stretch of when Miguel finally pushed into you. Just the tip was already splitting you apart more than Gene, or any former lover for that matter, ever had. 

“Breathe,” Miguel rasped. You couldn’t tell if he was advising you or himself though. It struck you then that you’d perhaps achieved the damn-near impossible – disarming the notoriously closed-off Miguel O’Hara. He looked beautiful, biting his plush lower lip as he slowly rocked more and more of his huge cock inside of you. 

Your back arched off the mattress of the sensation of being progressively speared on the monster that Miguel called a dick. It was too much and not enough all at once, and your fingers dug into your comforter below you. He tried to distract you from any potential pain, Miguel’s index finger returning to your barely-recovered clit. 

“That’s it, open up for me,” he husked. Your head swam at the mix of his enormous manhood stretching you to your limit and his tender, in-control tone. The realization hit you harder than a punch from an anomaly. In that moment, fear skittered down your throat and pooled into your stomach, resting right above where you two were joined. He’s going to ruin me for other men, isn’t he? 

You couldn’t think any further since not only was Miguel fully seated within you, he had asked you a question. Your eyes glassy and pupils blown, found his, and he repeated himself. “You okay? Can-can I move?”

“Yes,” you gasped. In case your breath affirmation left any room for doubt, you added, “please.”

Another grunt from your lover and Miguel at last began to thrust into you. Your arms flew from the bed to his impossibly wide shoulders, your nails digging into the caramel, taut skin there. You couldn’t tell exactly when it’d happened, lost in the deliciously lewd sounds you were making between the slap of your bodies, your labored breaths, and his determined staccato grunts while Miguel railed you, but your hips had begun to meet his. 

“M-more Miguel,” you urged him as you dragged your fingertips down the expanse of his back. Each of your hands grabbed a fistful of that glorious ass and squeezed to drive home your point. 

“You sure?” 

You moaned. It was as if he couldn’t give it to you hard or faster enough. You used your grip on the globes of his perfect rear to try and force him to increase to the pace and force you needed him to fuck you at. 

Miguel laughed. A dark and stirring sound that made you involuntarily tighten around his girthy length. “Alright bebita, but remember…you asked for this.” 

His words ignited something defiant within you. You pulled Miguel’s head from where it had fallen into the crook of your neck so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I’m not some pillow princess from Nueva. I’m just as strong as you are, I can go just as hard you can, and I want you to fuck me.” 

Your lover’s eyes darkened at your demand. The growl that ripped from his throat was your only warning before Miguel unleashed the full force of his strength on you. You keened in pleasure as he all but drove you through your bedframe and the wall behind it. Miguel captured your wrists once more and restrained you against the mattress as he absolutely pounded into your pussy. 

His drilling drew another ecstatic cry from your mouth. Miguel glared down at you, his eyes nearly crazed, his face barely lit in the ambient light from the street. It truly was infuriating to you how beautiful this man was. You watched his brow furrowed in concentration – not on his stupid screens for once – and his dark hair shift in time with his thrusts.  Your features contorted in pleasure when Miguel switched from drilling into you to swiveling his hips to stuff you with his cock. His movements were deliberate and slow, he was trying to get as deep inside of you as he could. You almost went cross-eyed at the feel of his bulbous cockhead punching against your cervix. 

The criminal undulations of his hips extracted a little yip from you each time he pistoned into you. He grinned down at you wolfishly. Equal parts indignation and arousal bloomed within you. Also, was the first time you'd ever seen Miguel smile? Not a little half-smirk or a humorless quirk of his lips, but an unabashed smile?

“Want me to back off?” 

Oh, there was no way you were going to take that lying down. Even if Miguel’s pubic bone was perfectly grinding into your clit. 

You let out a growl of your own and summoned all the power in your core muscles to wrestle Miguel back and claim the high ground. Out of breath when you found yourself seated on Miguel’s dick, his large, muscled body prone beneath you, you braced yourself on his rippled abdomen.

“Is the itsy-bitsy Spider-Girl gonna ride my cock?” he taunted you. If Miguel didn’t wear that arrogant, playful smirk so well, you would’ve wiped it from his lips. 

You slid your hands up the length of his chest and leaned over, your face hovering over his. “That depends. Can 2099 handle it?” 

Miguel answered you with an impatient buck of his hips up into your sex. You giggled as you straightened up again, tweaking one of Miguel's nipples as you went. You relished the little shudder it sent through him. “Alright, but remember baby, you asked for this.”

He snorted out a laugh, which you quickly silenced once you began riding Miguel like the stud he was. “Hnnn–shock, bebita.”

“Ah,” you sighed as you bounced on his prick. Before sleeping with Miguel, you had assumed the term “feeling him in your guts” was hyperbole. Not with him. “Fuck, you’re even bigger like this.” 

A large hand traced its way up one of your thighs, now lightly covered with a sheen of sweat, past your sex, split apart by his shaft, to where Miguel’s manhood made the slightest bulge in your lower belly. His smile became wider and even cockier. “It’s good, no?”

You gave him a nonverbal, but enthusiastic, reply. He smacked your ass in satisfaction, “Yeah c’mon, cariño, ride me. Wanna watch your tits bounce.” 

You officially hated Miguel and his big, thick, perfectly sized cock. Where as with other partners you’d smack them right back with a zinger, all you could do was moan again. His naughty, domineering words did nothing but excite you. There was something about him and the way he fucked that made you incapable of doing little else than enthusiastically submitting to him. You leaned back, your fingers clutching onto Miguel’s thick thighs to stability as you changed angles and gave him a better view of your breasts jiggling in time with your motions. 

“Ay, sí bebita,” Miguel’s hands flew to your hips to intensify the frantic mashing of your bodies together, “Ven aquí.”

He gathered your torso in his hulking arms and pulled you closer so that he could coax a breast into his mouth again as you rode him. 

“You gonna come for me Miguel?” you panted.  

“No,” he sounded as winded as you were. “Not yet.”

You clenched around him and snickered. “Are you sure?” 

“¡Coño!” Miguel snarled at the feel of your already blistering, tight pussy suffocating his dick further. “¡No más – basta de esto!”

The vision of your bedroom swam when Miguel lifted you off his pulsing member and dropped you back on your stomach onto the mattress facing the foot of the bed.. You could hear him shifting behind you, and you blindly groped for the lower metal railing of your bedframe’s footboard, only vaguely aware what was to come. 

A grunt from Miguel, and the next thing you knew one of your pillows was stuffed under your lower belly and his massive hands were back on either side of your hips. Your lover didn’t give you any notice before shoving his fat erection back inside of your already tender pussy. 

You shouted at the feeling of his cock stuffing you to the brim once again. Miguel’s hands appeared above your head where you held on for dear life as he impaled you on his prick.

“Ahhh!” you clamored, desperately trying to pull enough air in your lungs to function as Miguel squatted behind you. “I’ve never been so full! Oh God, Miguel, it’s so much…so much…”

Miguel responded with a pleased growl, and merely rammed into you harder. You were peripherally aware of the clanging of the pieces of your metal bed frame clanging together in protest at the vigor of your and Miguel’s coupling, but there were too many sensations overwhelming you at once to focus on one in particular. Not even when the metal groaned and the angle Miguel fucked you at changed did you pay attention to what was actually happening. You merely pushed back onto his cock as much as you could, your fingertips scrabbling into the folds of your comforter. 

Your eyes screwed shut at the barrage of stimuli - the unrelenting stretch of Miguel’s hardness,  his harsh but steadying grip on your hips, the light scratch of fabric beneath you on your skin, the little puff of warmth on the back of your neck from Miguel’s labored exhalations. You were sure this was better than any high any drug could provide. You hadn’t tried many, not even Rapture, and but nothing could top being thoroughly fucked into your mattress by Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel’s dogged grunts morphed into shouts when he at last found his release, spurting rope after rope of hot, creamy cum into your welcoming cunt. You found yourself crying out along with him as he emptied his load, your walls bearing down around his length as you both rode out his high. Miguel flooded your pussy with his seed and before you could even try to adjust to the feeling, he withdrew his cock from you, tearing a quite pathetic-sounding whimper from your mouth. 

Miguel pulled your ass cheeks apart to examine your stretched, puffy pussy leaking his cum. His chest rumbled with primal delight. “Hermosa.”

You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath when Miguel dove back in for more, this time his eager, demanding tongue again invading your channel. You whimpered again, your pitch jumping an octave at Miguel’s needy tongue not only collecting his spunk from your pussy, but flicking the muscle against your clit. He was a man possessed, he ate you out as if he needed you to orgasm one more time for his survival. 

You gave him what he wanted (how could you not?), and once the crest of your pleasure had subsided, you lightly pushed him away from your gaping, abused cunt. 

The first thing you noticed when your wits returned to you was how much closer the ground had become. 

“Oh my God,” you put it together and turned to face your partner, "we broke the bed.”

Miguel arched a brow from where he leant back into the pillows. “Are you surprised?”

You frowned at him.  

“I’ll fix it,” he promised. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to…” you trailed off your gaze floating to the bathroom.

“Do your thing.”

“Can…can I get you anything?” 

Miguel glanced down at his crotch. “A towel?” 

You nodded. “Say no more.” 

You ducked into your en-suite, and once you were sure the door was firmly closed behind you, you proceeded to have a freak out to yourself in the mirror. You scarcely believe your own appearance – lips kiss swollen, hair a veritable bird's nest, your mascara smudged into rings around your eyes. Miguel had destroyed you in the best of ways. 

The thought sent a little aftershock of pleasure through you. You didn’t dally any longer — you relieved yourself, washed your hands, ran a brush through your hair and splashed water on your face. After dampening a washcloth for Miguel, you returned to the bedroom, where your bed frame was properly vertical again. 

You glimpsed the glow of Miguel’s distinctive red webs holding the broken metal rods together. The other Spider was reclining on your mattress, a sheet haphazardly tossed over his groin to preserve his modesty. Even so, the sight of him made you go weak in the knees. He really did remind you of some sort of a large cat given the odd grace in which he lounged with, the evidence of his power and strength so poorly hidden under the surface of his skin. 

“Get a new frame and expense it to Spider-HQ,” Miguel's baritone snapped you out of your reverie. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” You tossed him the towel. 

His eyes raked over your naked form. But instead of the desire you’d found there earlier, his gaze was full of concern. “You okay?”

“Yes. Very okay. A little sore but good sore, ya know?” 

“Good,” Miguel busied himself with cleaning up. 

“I mean, what’s the point of having superpowers if you can’t enjoy extra rough sex?” you joked. 

“Yeah, about that,” Miguel refused to meet your eyes. “As um…great as all this was…I think we–it should be a one-time thing.” 

“Um, duh.” He looked up at you hastily and you continued, “Miguel, neither of us are anywhere close to ready or in the right place for a relationship.” 

Your heart disagreed with your words, but you uttered them anyway. Not because it was how you truly felt, but you knew it was what he wanted to hear. Miguel associated any sense of closeness or vulnerability with weakness and danger. Trying to get him to see otherwise was a fool's errand, and it was easier on your heart to convince yourself into concurring with him. 

Oddly, Miguel didn’t seem to relax at your assurances. He looked dubious. “Are you sure?” 

“Oh my God, you are so cocky!” you accused him with a playful slap to the broad, tan chest. “Spare me the fake worry 2099, you may be amazing at sex, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be professional with you at HQ.” 

“Amazing at sex?” Mirguel parroted you with a smirk. 

You slapped him again. “Of course that’s the only part you heard.”

“Sorry but those are very distracting,” he claimed, his gaze focused on your exposed breasts. 

You scoffed and grabbed a pillow to temporarily cover yourself. “Hang on there, Spider-Man. Yes, you are…not terrible at showing a lady a good time, no, you don’t have to worry about me being clingy at work, and yes, I’m sure so stop looking at me like that!” 

You tossed the pillow away and straddled him. “Now I don’t know about you, but it’s only midnight. If this is indeed a one-time thing, I say we make the most of the night and the fact that no one has bothered us with some multiversal emergency yet.” 

Miguel finally let it go, choosing to focus on your very nude body on top of his. His hips moved on their own accord, grinding his cock, already stiffening back up to full mast, against where you were still so nice and stretched for him. 

“Vamos, bebita,” he whispered into your ear. His fingers dug into your sides possessively in a way that almost let you believe he was doing it because you were his. “Wanna fuck you on the ceiling.” 

***

You shouldn't have been surprised that Miguel didn’t stay the night. You were honestly shocked when he collapsed beside you after the hours you’d spent vehemently fucking. Your bed was now held together by a mix of both his and your webs, one of your framed photos on the wall lay shattered on the floor to be dealt with later, and the ceiling now sported a dent that was going to be very difficult to explain to your landlord. 

The memory of Miguel leaving was hazy at best. After so many rounds of deeply satisfying, intensely athletic sex, you felt like you could sleep for a week. Yet the shift and dip of Miguel’s large frame exiting the bed was enough to wake you. You could sort of recall a small flash of light and chirpy voice which must have been Lyla…and you also had a vague memory of him replying in a hushed rumble as if not to wake you up. Or was he telling you he was heading out? Everything jumbled together under the fog of sleep. 

Either way, you had to tell yourself that the sensation of a large hand caressing your face and then tenderly stroking down the sleep-warm skin of your back was a dream. Not for Miguel’s sake, but yours. 

Thanks to super-spider stamina, you only really needed a couple extra shots of espresso to function somewhat normally the following day at headquarters. You were angry at your instinct to avoid Miguel. You both were adults that had an adult, mature conversation that last night’s activities were merely a form of stress release that didn’t mean anything. It was hard to believe however, when you could still feel the phantom shape of him inside of you. 

Besides, it’s not even like you could avoid him if you wanted to. You were scheduled to go over more sequencing today with Miguel, and you were dead set on not blinking first in the post-sex-awkwardness stand-off. 

“Hey, Miguel!” your voice reverberated in the vast space. 

Several agonizing moments later, his platform lowered enough for you two to start conversing. If he was at all bashful about seeing you, the man didn’t show it. 

“Good. You’re here.”

“Yep.” 

Miguel was all business. “I want to go back to the fight you had with your father. Lyla, take us to timestamp 46:90:45.”

Damn, and here you thought you were good at compartmentalizing. You did your best to hide any disappointment from reaching your face, playing along as if he hadn’t seen every crevice of your body the night before. 

***

Days turned into weeks, and you eventually, reluctantly accepted that Miguel had told you the truth that night. What you two had shared was really just a one-time lapse of his frighteningly strong self-restraint. 

You were enjoying a rare night in, parked on the couch, takeout boxes strewn about the coffee table, your favorite trashy reality show playing on your TV. You’d gotten injured taking down a Doc Ock variant a few days ago, and Miguel benched you to recuperate. You were all too happy to take a break, from him and Spider-Girling. Despite your complicated feelings for the man, he assigned a recently displaced Spider, Spider-Woman 1357, to pinch hit for you in your dimension while you healed up. It was the first time since you became a hero you had a day off with peace of mind. 

Just as you started another episode, a tingle raced down your spine. Your spider-sense. Something was about to happen. Out of all the possibilities of what could have followed, a portal opening in your living room and Miguel walking through was the last thing you would’ve guessed. You leapt up from the sofa. 

You instantly regretted your appearance - messy bun, no makeup, and ratty sweatpants. Miguel, as usual, looked immaculate in his skintight spider-suit. 

“Hey.” 

“Is this a booty call?”

“No.” 

“Don’t bullshit me–”

“It’s not, I swear! Coño, I came to check on you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Why not?”

“Because you could have messaged me on my gizmo. It’s your preferred method of communication after all, ever since the last time you were in my apartment.” 

“May–”

Lyla appeared over his shoulder. “He missed you, that’s all.”

Miguel growled at his AI. “I’m going to sentence you to robot death via spreadsheets.” 

Lyla wasn’t threatened in the slightest. “Thank me later.” She disappeared before Miguel could try and make another retort. 

“You missed me?”

“No,” his denial was instant. “I just…I–”

“This is a booty call!” you crumpled up a napkin and chucked it at his large form. “Go home, Miguel!” 

He didn’t budge. “It’s not a booty call. I…what are you watching?”

“The Realest Housewives of Manhattan. What, don’t judge me!”

Miguel couldn't keep his face straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Seeing his eyes crinkle with amusement was infectious. You threw another napkin ball at him and then composed yourself. He wasn’t getting off the hook this easily. “Why are you here? Be honest with me. It’s the very least I deserve.”

“I wanted to see the shocking expensive bed frame you expensed to HQ for myself.” 

“You said I could and you didn't set a spending limit.” A wicked little grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. The bed frame from Restoration Hardware had been your own private form of revenge. “And I’m supposed to believe you wanting to see my bed – my bed that you broke–”

“Hey! We broke the bed–”

“--is not your thinly veiled excuse for seeking another roll in the hay? Enough with goddamn mind games Miguel.” He tried to speak but you pushed on, “I’m tired and this is the last thing I need.”

Miguel sobered. He hung his head. His mouth seemed to fight the words as they left his lips.  “Alright, fine. I missed you.” 

You ignored your heartbeat’s sharp increase and schooled your features to maintain a neutral appearance. “I have some extra Pad Thai if you want.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“So this may not be a booty call, but does anyone other than Lyla know you’re here?”

“No.” 

You nodded. “Come. Sit. I just started the episode where Beverly throws her poodle a forty thousand dollar birthday party.” 

“Nothing you said just now made sense,” Miguel protested, but took a seat on your couch anyway. 

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed!! Miguel has fully rotted my brain so I thought it only fair to share the horniness. Of course I have more imagined in this AU, fingers crossed I can find more time to write (comments and reblogs and likes help!)

Translations:

Mierda - Shit 

cariño - dear

bebita - baby

Gracias a Dios - Thank God

Ven aquí - Come here

¡Coño! - Damnit!

¡No más – basta de esto! -No more, enough of this!

Hermosa - beautiful

Vamos, bebita - Come on, baby

Taglist: @plethora-of-imagines, @itdobe-liza @absolutelybloodyhopeless @ninebluehearts, @oscarissac2099 @trinthealternate

[literaryavenger]

Hiii, I saw you asked for one-shot suggestions and I was thinking of something domestic and fuffly, a lazy morning with them not wanting to wake up and get up, things like that.

Sorry the request wasn't good, it's the first time I've made suggestions, but I appreciate your work 💕

I wrote this so quickly that I'm surprised my fingers could keep up with my brain, lol. Thank you for the request! I always appreciate some inspiration, and thank you for reading my stories!❤️

Also keep in mind it's like 2:30 am, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, I did my best to catch them all.

Mornings Like This

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of YN. Language. Nothing more, just fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.4K

Masterlist

One thing Bucky never thought he'd have was a chance at a normal life.

Before even the war, Hydra and everything that followed he didn’t think he’d be lucky enough to find a girl that loved him enough to build a life with him.

Now in the 21st century, the super soldier felt more out of place than ever.

Going from one fight after the other was exhausting, even if he was fighting with the people he came to think of as family, Tony included.

It still didn’t change the fact that he was tired, the kind of tired sleep can’t fix.

That’s why, right now, he can’t help but be grateful as he wakes up with you in his arms.

For Bucky, you’re everything. You’re his best friend, his most trusted teammate, you’re his hope, his dream, his angel sent by God himself.

You’re the person he trusts with every part of himself, he knows you’d never judge him, you always believe in him and you’re not afraid to call him out.

He can always trust you to be honest.

You’re the love of his life, his future. You’re the calm he’s been looking for his whole life. He still considers the day he met you the happiest of his life, and there’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t remind you all of this.

Bucky opens his eyes slowly, still fighting to sleep a little longer, but as soon as he sees your face inches away from his he knows it's a losing fight.

He can’t help but smile as he watches your face in the most relaxed state, trying to commit every inch of it to memory just like he does every morning.

Today is one of those rare days where neither of you have anything to do; no training, no missions, no briefings, no outings.

A normal day where you can just be lazy like normal people do. Bucky lives for days like these, starting with one of his favorite activities: shamelessly staring at you.

"Are you watching me sleep, you little creep?" you say, not opening your eyes with a smile starting to form on your face.

"You bet your ass I am." He says proudly.

"Careful or I’ll tell Steve you used a bad word." At the sound of his laugh you can't help but open your eyes and the sight in front of you was nothing short of glorious.

Your super soldier boyfriend, shirtless, with a smile that could light up all of the stars in the sky looking at you like you hung up those stars just for him.

At this point you’ve woken up next to him more times than you can count, hundreds, maybe thousands, but this sight right in front of you never fails to knock the breath out of your lungs.

"Who’s the little creep staring now, huh?" he teases with a goofy grin.

"Can you blame me when my boyfriend is so pretty?" you see his cheeks getting pink and decide to tease him a little bit more.

"Awwe, my pretty baby’s blushing!" he groans as his face gets redder and he hides his face in the crook of your neck, while you keep cooing at him.

"Stooop." he says, his voice muffled. You’re laughing when suddenly he’s on top of you, tickling your sides.

"Say you’re sorry!" he says over and over while laughing, never relenting on his vicious attack.

"Never!" you're practically squealing at this point, tears coming down your eyes because of how much you're laughing.

"I can do this all day, doll!" and you know he could, so you finally give in.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay, just stop!" that seems to satisfy him as he stops tickling you but doesn't move away from on top of you.

Instead he starts peppering kisses all over your face, barely giving you enough time to catch your breath. "Bucky!" you can do nothing more than laugh, and the melodic sound is just an incentive for him to keep going.

Finally he starts slowing down, giving you one last kiss on the lips. But before he could pull away, you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you and deepening the kiss. He hummed into the kiss and after a few moments you let go of each other.

"Good morning, angel." he says while looking down at you with the sweetest smile.

"Good morning, handsome." you answer with a smile matching his.

He rolls off of you, but doesn't go very far as he pulls you basically on top of him and wraps his arms tightly around you. "Buck, I can barely breathe."

He shrugs. "You don’t need to breathe."

"Trust me, I do." you giggle while he loosen his hold on you. You feel him sight under you, so you raise your head to look him in the eye "Everything okay, baby?"

His eyes meet yours as he answers "Everything’s perfect, bunny. I wish we could stay like this forever…"

You can't help but smile at him. "Me too, honey…" but your smile falters a little when you glance at the clock on the bedside table.

"I hate to ruin the moment, but I have to get up." you try to get out of his arms, but he just holds onto you tighter, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Where are you going?" He gives you an adorable pout and you almost give up on your attempts to get up, not that they were going anywhere in any case. 

"I might’ve told Tony I’d help him test his new gadgets." you say with a sheepish smile.

"C’mon sweets, you can do that any day, just stay here with me a little longer." he almost whines, shuffling a little so you're on your sides and he buries his face in your neck, yet again.

"Buck, I promised him! I can’t just not show up." you chuckle at his almost childish behavior, glad that he feels comfortable enough around you to act like this.

"There’s no way I’m gonna let you get up to go test Tony’s death traps." His muffled words only make you laugh more.

"And what are you gonna do to keep me here, huh?" you challenge, as if you had any other choice with his tight grip on you.

He took his head away from your neck and looked at you for a few seconds before almost yelling "Hey Friday, can you let Tony know that miss YLN won’t be joining him today? Thank you." he has a victorious look on his face while the AI said "Certainly, Sergeant Barnes."

You groan and this time it's your turn to bury your face in his chest. "I knew teaching you to use Friday would come back to bite me in the ass." you can feel his laughter from deep in his chest and the kiss he plants on the top of your head makes you smile against his skin. 

"C’mon angel, let me see your pretty face." you can feel your face heating up but you look at him nonetheless. "There she is."

Bucky kisses the tip of your nose and laughs when you make a face at him that's supposed to be annoyed but he thinks it's just adorable.

"I love you, doll" He says after a few moments of silence. "I know I tell you everyday, but I can’t help it. I’m the luckiest man in the world to get to hold you and kiss you and love you and I’ll never stop doing it for as long as you allow me to."

You're about to cry, so, obviously, you have to ruin the moment "Fine! I’ll stay in bed with you, just stop being so damn sweet." he laughs at your joke, but you're melting inside so you decide to give him a serious answer.

You put both your hands on his cheeks and kiss him. "I love you too, Bucky. I appreciate everything you do for me and I’ll never not want you in my life. You’re the love of my life, my soulmate. You’re it for me. I’m sorry but you’re stuck with me."

He smiles and kisses you again. "I can live with that."

You're about to kiss him again when suddenly there's a loud knock at the door. You and Bucky look at each other, confused, until you hear a voice yelling behind the door.

"YN YLN WHAT DOES IT MEAN YOU’RE NOT GONNA HELP ME?! YOU PROMISED!" Tony keeps whining through the door as Bucky groans and throws his head back into the pillow in frustration, while you laugh at both the men’s antics.

You give Bucky a quick kiss before getting up. "This is your fault, you know." you tell him as you move towards the door, but before you can answer you get hit by a pillow on your back.

You look back to see Bucky laughing his ass off at the shocked look on your face.

God, he’s lucky you love him.

[shourin]

madly in ̵l̷ov̸?̶e¿ voicelines

◇ ✨live✨ version (click to view)

◇ script version (under the cut)

(+bonus! heizou ー it's too bad i can't find his video :c ) same notes as this post for the live voicelines

| About [name]

Ah... Yes. Aren't they endearing?

Hm? I look... upset? My apologies. Please don't worry, as long as you don't harbor any... foul intent towards them, my blade will remain sheathed. You must have known by this point that I don't care for needless confrontations.

| Your Relationship

The protector and the protected would be the best description, I suppose. I try to be the best shelter that I could ever become for the tired dove that they are. A safe space to return to, someone to call home.

... Or at least, this is what I wish to become. My sweet [name] tells me that my protection suffocates them sometimes, but in this ruthless world where the gods will not hesitate to strike their subjects down, can you truly fault someone's desire to protect what is most important to them?

| Competitors

If there is anything I've learned from my life of wandering, it's that obstacles will always present themselves in one's journey. And to move forward, we must eradicate them, lest they ambush us in the future. Don't you agree?

| Would you ever let go?

I'm sure you, who have experienced losses in your journeys, will be able to relate to me when I say that... At a certain point, one will slowly become accustomed to separation and rejections. But do you know what lies past the grief and the numbness when you think it couldn't possibly get worse?

*chuckles* I'm afraid... I have gotten past that point.

| About [name]

Mm? Yes, what about my darling [name]?

Tread carefully now, comrade~ *chuckle*

| Your Relationship

Utterly head over heels, madly invested in each other, completely in love, and is in a loving relationship! Ahaha, don't give me that look! You were the one who asked!

Alright, alright, since you asked nicely... [name] has been with me for as long as I remember, actually. We were neighbors, and we kept in touch even after I joined the Fatui. They stuck by me through thick and thin, always smiling when they greeted me back at the village, despite knowing what I do for a living...

Tell me, how can one not fall in love with someone like that? Such a pure, untainted soul... Being around them feels like I've committed an unforgivable sin in itself, but alas, I've been utterly smitten and I can't exactly remember how to get out of this maze called love anymore. So I guess I'm staying for good, haha!

| Competitors

Ah, of course, there were many, many insects swarming around such beauty... The only irritating thing about it is that none of them - not even a single one - was a fun hunt! Can you believe it?? I've probably gone through a hundred of them by this point, but none makes a worthy opponent! *sigh* Life's hard when you're just too strong...

*grin* Speaking of which, how about it, Traveler? If you're free, why don't we do some sparring~?

| Would you ever let go?

Ahahaha! Comrade, you sure like to joke around...

Perhaps. If you can pry them off my dead body.

| About [name]

[name]? Yes, of course I know them. What do you think about them, Traveler?

Oh? My smile looks scary? I'm not sure what you mean by that, this is my usual smile. *chuckles* Why, have you done something that will potentially incur my wrath? Something like... taking a romantic interest towards my dear fiancé, perhaps?

That's not the case? Well, then, I believe there's nothing you should worry about!

| Your Relationship

[name] has stayed with me throughout my darkest hours. They... gave me much-needed comfort, when I had to take the mantle of the head of the clan. Though it is something I have prepared for my whole life, it was a rather sudden change, and the transition was abrupt. Coupled with the fact that there was no room for mistakes... Yes, I could never thank them enough.

I believe we've developed a deep bond because of it all. So, it's only natural that I repay them by providing them with the best luxuries and the safest shelter to call home. And as the spouse of the head of the Kamisato clan, they won't ever lack anything!

| Competitors

-and make sure to do it without any trace, as usual. You are dismissed.

... Hm? Oh, Traveler. To what do I owe the pleasure?

| Would you ever let go?

My, I'm afraid I'll need context on this one. If this is about my position as the head of my household clan, I would rather not, but I believe Ayaka will become a fine head in my place. If you're talking about the Shuumatsuban, it will undoubtedly cause a few issues. Still, I should manage to hire some elite private mercenaries in their stead, though it would not be preferable.

And if this is concerning [name], then the answer is rather simple:

No.

| About [name]

*smiles* [name] is my greatest treasure. I'm quite sure you've noticed the fondness I hold towards them. I can talk about them all day.

They are a kind one, for starters. Always wishing and striving to please everyone, sometimes to the point that they forgot about themselves. No matter in whichever lives, no matter their position... This aspect of them never changed. It worries me so. Yet, forcibly stripping this away from them would mean that I am rejecting who they are as a person. And that is not what I wish to do.

I'd like to think that I'm protecting them, by making sure that no one tries to take advantage of their kind nature. After all, is it not the job of a lover to make sure their beloved is safe and sound?

| Your Relationship

Would you believe me when I say that I have been in love with them for thousands of years? *chuckles* 

Be it Rex Lapis, Morax, or Zhongli... They have a firm hold of my heart. So it's only fair that I do so in return, don't you think?

| Competitors

As much as I would find it liberating to subdue those who do not deserve their attention, let alone be allowed to lay sight on them... I cannot.

We would not want the seas of Liyue Harbor to turn red from all the blood. It would be unhygienic.

| Would you ever let go?

..... All I wish for is for [name] to be safe.

And the safest place in all Teyvat is by my side.

| About [name]

Oh, did you meet [name]? I suppose you've been frequenting the Kamisato residence lately... What did you think about them?

Hmm, I see, I see! The young miss introduced the two of you! ... .That's fine then.

Aren't they really nice? Did they talk about me? I have some time to spare, so we can sit down for some tea! Why don't you tell me all about it over some tea time snacks?

| Your Relationship

"The perfect couple"? R-Really? Do people really say that? Aw, geez, that's kinda embarrassing, but it makes me happy that people recognize how well we get along with each other, haha!

[name] could be a little stubborn sometimes, but they're just the sweetest! *giggle* Oh, and don't worry, when we get married one day, I'll be sure to invite you as one of the guests!

| Competitors

*strained laugh* Uhm, well, I can't deny that there are a lot of people around us, and with me being busy tending to the Kamisato siblings' needs, there isn't enough time for me to regularly check on them...

B-But, the young master has been really kind, so I really have nothing to worry about! Huh? What kind of help did he provide? Well, there are numerous things, really. For example... He's provided me with an adequate living section in the Kamisato residence, since I'm the young miss' retainer, and he allowed [name] to reside there! Just normal things, you know? Man, I sure am glad I work for a really accommodating boss!

| Would you ever let go?

You know, my mom used to say, if you truly love someone, you should always keep them close to your heart... And I agree wholeheartedly with her! Plus, [name] enjoys my company very much, why would I 'let them go'?

| About [name]

My adorable significant other! What's this, are you investigating them for some reason, Traveler? I assure you, their background is completely clean, with no dirt in sight! I made sure of it, afterall~

Eh? What does that mean? Haha, who knows~

| Your Relationship

It's like a game of cat and mouse, most of the time. I find it mentally stimulating! They always love to test my intelligence by going into hiding somewhere, waiting for me to catch them! Isn't that cute? It's thrilling and keeps me on my toes, that's for sure! They're always so creative about it, too...

I do get worried from time to time, though. I mean, they might get hurt out there while they look for a hiding place... So if you ever spot them out there in any dangerous areas - which they're prone to wander off to - let me know straight away, okay? It might sound like I'm cheating by asking this from a lot of people, but I'd rather have [name] safe and my detective pride bruised rather than have them get hurt, or worse...

| Competitors

Now, see, to make a fair competition, the two candidates must have an equal footing with each other. However, I have yet to see someone who is as interested in [name] as I am, who is just as smart, good-looking, attentive, and capable as me - and to top it all off, have the ability and courage to do whatever it takes to ensure their safety and comfort! So there isn't really any competition going on here, is there?

| Would you ever let go?

Haha, is that a serious question?

Look here partner - a detective worth their salt will chase its target until the end of the world. Now, I'm not saying [name] is a criminal or anything like that, but all I'm saying is...

... I'm not the type who would let my prey get away, you see.

And it's not like I have a shortage of handcuffs to use, haha!

[pedroscurls]

Dirty Little Secret (Part 5).

Character(s): no-outbreak, age-gap!Joel Miller x fem!Reader Summary: You and Joel finally have a serious conversation during Drew and Sarah’s rehearsal dinner.  Word count: 3.1k  A/N: You know, this story was supposed to just be purely smut (minimal plot), but I've fallen in love with this pairing so much and have enjoyed writing Joel's POV. We're in for an emotional ride with this one, so enjoy! Warning: age-gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early-30s), sneaking around, things get emotional!!! SERIES MASTERLIST - ultimate masterlist

“Rehearsal dinner is tonight,” Joel says quietly, lips pressed lightly against the back of your bare shoulder. He’s been spending more and more time here with you, in your apartment. It’s starting to become a bit domesticated because he comes by once he’s finished with work, you cook dinner (sometimes even together), and then you spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, falling asleep and waking up the next morning by each other’s side. 

The fear that lingered in the back of your mind begins to take a more prominent role the more time he spends with you. You aren’t sure if this is something you want, but you can’t deny the fact that there is something that you can’t explain when it comes to Joel. He makes you feel safe, makes you feel seen and heard, and it’s something that you never experienced from a partner. Partner? Lover? You’re not quite sure what to call him, what to label your relationship with him as, but a part of you can’t ignore the pull and tug you feel in your heart whenever he’s near. 

“I know Sarah and Drew are both ready to just get this whole thing over with and be married already,” you respond, turning on your back and looking over in his direction. His hair has gotten a bit longer, still messy, curling at the nape of his neck and at his ears. It’s something that you’re beginning to like more and more, especially when you get to run your fingers through it. Joel’s staring at you with a look in his eyes that you haven’t seen before. He’s looking at you with pure admiration and it makes you blush. 

No one’s ever looked at you the way Joel is doing right now.

“Oh, I reckon it’s a lot of work,” Joel chuckles. “All these parties… M’surprised Drew’s keeping up with it.” 

“Well, he likes to keep your girl happy,” you smile. “Drew loves Sarah so much. He’d do anything for her.” 

Joel smiles. “They’re a good fit. Tried to intimidate him the first time I met him, but when I saw the way he was looking at my babygirl, I knew it was serious. I knew that she’d be in good hands.” 

“It must be nice to be loved like that,” you blurt out. You’re not sure why you said it, but you can’t help but feel a pang of envy to be loved the way Drew and Sarah love each other. They walk into a room and you can just feel the love they share, the way they look at each other seems like they just fall in love all over again… It’s a love that you’ve heard countless stories of, seen movies about, but never got to experience yourself. You try to tell yourself that it’s not something you want - commitment - but you would be lying if you said you never thought about it. 

And you’d certainly be lying if you said you never thought about it with Joel. 

Joel looks at you and his smile falters. He feels his heart break just a tiny bit at your admission. He wants to say that the feelings he has for you are so serious that he’s finding himself falling for you. He wants to tell you that you’re so deserving of all the love and that he’s the one willing to give it. He wants to tell you that since you came into his life, it’s changed for the better. 

But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he just reaches up to cup your cheek and places a light kiss on your lips. 

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right guy, darlin’,” he finally says. 

You look at him and bite the inside of your cheek. He’s no longer looking at you with admiration and you can see the walls he’s building around himself because now he looks closed off. It hurts to know that the one person you might be falling in love with isn’t someone that you’re meant to be with. 

“Maybe,” you force a smile and sit up from bed. You turn your back to him and bite your lower lip, dressed only in his t-shirt and a pair of panties. You stand up from bed and glance over your shoulder at him and you swear that you could see his brows furrow in confusion, his lips in a small pout, but the wedding is near, which also means the end of your relationship with Joel is just right around the corner. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Need company?” Joel asks.

You shake your head. Maybe it’s best to start pulling away, put some distance between the both of you. “As much as I’d love that, I have a few things planned today.” 

“Oh,” Joel replies. “Should I get goin’ then?” 

You nod. “Yeah, think that’s best.” 

Joel bites his lower lip and stands from bed. He pulls on his jeans and takes note of the shirt that you’re wearing. He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t like that the energy has shifted, but he knows that this is for the best. He knows you’re pulling away and as much as it hurts him, he knows this is the only way this is going to go. 

“Keep the shirt,” Joel says. “I’ve got a sweater in the truck.” 

“You sure?” 

Joel nods. He walks over to you and places a soft kiss on your forehead and wraps his arms around you. He feels you lean into him, tighten your arms around him, and let out a quiet, but shaky sigh. He wants to tell you that he’s falling so hard for you, but he has to remind himself that you deserve someone better than him. 

“See you tonight, baby.” Joel says, pulling away from you to look down into your eyes. 

You nod, not meeting his eyes or holding eye contact like you usually would. You kiss his cheek and turn on your heel to walk to the bathroom. When Joel sees the door shut, he lets out a sigh and begins to leave once he hears the water run. He feels his heart breaking a little bit when he leaves your apartment because part of him already knows that this is the beginning of the end. 

Joel had tried to prepare himself, but he didn’t expect the sudden rush of emotions and feelings that came with it. That came with you. 

He doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want to let you go, but he’s heard from Sarah and Drew that settling down and commitment isn’t something that ever interests you. Joel remembers the way you had told him how rough your childhood was and how Drew and his family had kept you afloat. He remembers the way his heart tugs and how he had wrapped his arms around you, silently telling you that you deserved the world. 

—

Tommy is leaning against the kitchen counter, dressed in black slacks and a black cable knit polo shirt that hugs his frame. His hair is pulled back into a small bun as he runs his hand over his short beard. Joel’s descending the stairs dressed in a black pants and a dark green button-down shirt with his sleeves folded to his elbows. His hair is neat, slicked back, and his beard is trimmed and clean-cut. 

Tommy notices the way his older brother continues to check his phone and he has to wonder if it’s because he’s texting to Sarah, but something in the way his jaw ticks tells Tommy it’s something - someone - else. 

“Y’okay?” Tommy asks, pulling Joel from his thoughts.

“M’fine. Ya ready to go?” 

“Ready whenever you are.” 

Joel nods, pockets his phone and grabs his keys. The wedding rehearsal is to be held at the wedding venue followed by a rehearsal dinner. All he can think about on the ride to the outdoor venue, though, is you. He didn’t like the way he left your apartment - it wasn’t even a proper goodbye. You had left him standing in the middle of your bedroom while you walked away to your bathroom. Since coming home, Joel begins to imagine what life would be like if he continued this, if he decides to give this a chance. He knows he’d be happy with you, but he also knows that if this were to become something more, he’d have to talk with Sarah. With Drew.

“D’ya hear me?” Tommy asks, snapping his fingers in Joel’s direction.

“Sorry. What?” 

“Where’s ya mind at? You’re lookin’ like–” 

“M’fine,” Joel repeats. “Just a lot of mingling and all’a that.” 

Tommy narrows his eyes. Technically, it isn’t a lie, but Tommy knows that Joel’s hiding something. He’s just not sure what. “Okay, well, at least we’ll have alcohol at dinner.” 

“Just gotta get through rehearsal first.” 

“‘Course,” Tommy says. He then spots you climbing out of your car and quickly lets his eyes take you in. You’re a dream, absolutely gorgeous, and a kind heart to go with it. But Tommy remembers the first time he met you and how Joel’s eyes never left you. 

Just like it was now. 

Joel pulls into a parking spot and turns off the truck. He watches you flatten the wrinkles of your dress and he can’t help but bite his lower lip at the sight of you. You’re wearing a light blue dress that reaches past your knees, stopping just at your shin with a trumpet hem. The straps of your dress are neatly tied atop your shoulders and your hair is tucked behind your ears, cascading down the middle of your back. 

Then, Joel meets your eye. He sees you give him a curt nod with a soft smile before you disappear inside. He lets out a sigh and unbuckles his seatbelt, climbing out of the truck and running a hand through his hair. It’s Tommy that pulls him from his thoughts again.

“Okay, so what’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’.” 

“You’ve always been a bad liar, y’know that?” Tommy chuckles. “Have you two–”

“No,” Joel interrupts. “Now, leave it, Tommy.” 

“Okay, okay,” Tommy shrugs. “No need to get all bent out of shape. I was just–”

“It’s nothin’,” Joel repeats. “Let’s head inside.” 

It’s a small group of people, only the ones involved in the wedding itself are here for rehearsal. Drew’s already standing at the end of the aisle, dressed in navy blue slacks and a white button-down shirt. It’s semi-formal, but Joel can see how anxious the young man is getting. It’s only rehearsal, but Joel notices how Drew keeps looking down towards the end of the aisle, almost like he’s waiting for Sarah to appear. 

The wedding planner speaks with Joel and Tommy, instructing them of where to stand, who will be coming out in order, and as she continues to speak, Joel sees you at the corner of his eye. You’re by yourself, the wind blowing in your direction with the sun shining down on you and Joel feels his heart tug at the sight of you. He wants to come up behind you, wrap his arms around you, and tell you how beautiful you look, how happy that you’re his. 

But he doesn’t. He can’t. 

In the next thirty minutes, you and the rest of the bridal party and groomsmen get ready to walk down the aisle. You’re walking alone, being Drew’s best woman means you’re standing next to him. So the music begins and the wedding planner signals for you to begin walking. You try to focus, try to just get through today, but all you can think about is Joel. 

You actually love him and it scares you because you were sure that love wasn’t something you were ever going to get to experience. It was something that you had come to terms with early on in your childhood. It was something that you decided when your parents divorced that relationships - and men - wasn’t worth the trouble if it meant having your heart broken. 

But Joel…

Joel’s different. 

And you don’t know what to make of it, what to think, or even how to move forward. This wasn’t meant to be something more than just a fling. This wasn’t meant to be something more than just a fuck buddy. 

You weren’t meant to fall in love. 

As you get closer to Drew, you give him a wink and stand next to him. He reaches for your hand and you squeeze it reassuringly. The rest of the groomsmen and bridal party walk in pairs until it’s time for the bride - for Sarah - to walk down. 

And you know that you’re going to see Joel. 

And you try hard to keep your expression neutral. 

But when you see him and Sarah begin to walk in your direction, where everyone was already standing, you feel your heart tug towards him, almost like it’s yearning for him. Sarah’s arm is hooked around his and Joel holds onto her tightly, leaning over to give her a gentle kiss on her temple. 

Then, he sees you. His eyes soften. The corner of his lips lift slightly. To anyone, it would seem like an innocent gesture, a polite hello, but to you, he’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He’s looking at you like he always does. 

Joel hands Sarah off to Drew and he spares one more glance in your direction before he steps away to take his seat in the front. He’s glad that this is about Sarah, about Drew, because it distracts him enough that he doesn’t look in your direction until rehearsal is over. Everyone then begins to congregate inside for dinner and Joel sees you trail behind, opting to stay outside to watch the sunset. 

Joel bites his lower lip, steps inside to grab a beer for himself and a glass of wine for you before he meets you outside. Gently, he nudges you with his shoulder and you stare up at him with a look of surprise. 

“Hey,” Joel says, holding out the glass of wine in your direction. 

“Thank you,” you respond, taking the glass from him and your fingers brush against his. You hear him let out a breath before he turns his attention to the sunset. 

“Y’okay?” Joel asks. 

“Just thinking.” 

“Care to share?” 

You shrug. “Not sure there’s anything to share.” 

Joel sighs and steps closer to you. He needs to feel you, needs to know that you’re okay, that this is okay. His arm brushes against yours and Joel lets out a sigh of relief when he feels you lean against him. 

“Wedding’s in a few days.” You say. 

“It is,” Joel replies. 

“What happens then?” 

“D’ya mean…” Joel trails off, pointing between the both of you.

“Yes.” 

“What do you want to happen?” Joel asks. He can’t help but look down at you. You’re not even looking at him and despite the close proximity with you, you’ve never felt further away from him than you do now. 

“This wasn’t meant to be serious,” you whisper. “We were supposed to just have fun, keep each other company.” 

“I know,” Joel responds. 

“We got distracted. We never set any rules.” 

“Should we have?” 

“Yes,” you sigh. Joel notices the way your voice cracks and he could see tears building at the corner of your eyes. 

“Baby–”

“After the wedding, it’s done. This– We can’t.” 

Joel tightens his jaw, feels his heart break. He knows you’re not telling the truth, he can see that you’re holding back and so, he turns you around to face him. He can hear the laughter and chatter from inside the dinner, but that’s the least of his worries. 

“Why not?” 

“Joel,” you shake your head. Still, you’re not meeting his eyes because you’re sure that if you look up at him, you’d tell him everything. At least right now, you have a bit of courage to hold back, to pull away from him, even if it’s breaking your heart. “I don’t– Relationships aren’t for me.”

“How d’ya know?” Joel sighs. 

“I just do.”

“How?” He presses. 

“I can’t–” you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Joel…”

“Tell me,” he whispers quietly. “Tell me again that this is done and I’ll leave you alone.” 

“It’s done,” you reply weakly.

“No, look me in the eye and tell me.”

“Joel…” Your lower lip juts out, quivering slightly as a tear slips. Joel instinctively reaches out to wipe your tear away, his body closer to you now. He knows anyone can just walk in on the both of you, but he doesn’t care. He needs to hear you say it, needs to see you look him in the eye and tell him to leave you alone. Only then can Joel let you go. 

“Look me in my eyes and tell me this ain’t somethin’ you want.” 

“I can’t.” You shake your head, lean into his touch, and you feel your resolve lose quickly. You always thought that commitment wasn’t something you ever wanted; it stemmed from your parents’ failed marriage followed by plenty of toxic relationships your mother got herself into, which you followed her footsteps in. 

But Joel… 

Joel gives you hope. 

He makes you feel safe. 

He makes you feel loved. 

“Look me in the eye and–”

“I’ve fallen in love with you!” You blurt out, finally looking up at him and into his dark brown eyes. “Is that what you want to hear? How this fling turned into something so much more to me? How whenever I’m with you, I’m the safest I’ve ever felt? How you look at me and everything just seems to be okay? How being in your arms just–” your breath catches. 

“Baby–”

“Just,” you sigh, wiping your tears away. “Give me some space, please.” 

“Darlin’,” Joel pleads. “Just let me–”

“I need some space, Joel.” 

He doesn’t press any further and lets you go inside. Joel feels hopeful now that he knows how you feel, but there's something inside of him that scares him. He doesn’t want to let you down, doesn’t ever want to disappoint you, and he still believes that you deserve someone better than him, but Joel doesn’t want to let you go. 

He doesn’t want you to be with anyone else. 

“At least tell me you love her too,” someone says, pulling Joel from his thoughts. 

Eyes wide, Joel turns his head and sees Drew standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Drew, it isn’t–”

“Do you love her, Joel?” Drew interrupts. Joel can see the protectiveness in his features, can see it in the way he stands, but still, Drew is showing respect. 

“Drew, I–” 

“She deserves the world,” Drew sighs. “So, tell me… Do you love her?

—

taglist: @she-could-never | @joeldjarin | @janaispunk | @jessie8605 | @untamedheart81 | @paleidiot | @vickie5446 | @casa-boiardi

—

prev. - next.

[axailslink]

Hi, can I please request a shuri fic, smut please, where the reader and shuri been in a committed relationship for a long time and have a very active sex life but reader recently had surgery fibroids removed and she’s recovered but has been super conscious of her new scar from her surgery on her lower abdomen, so she avoids being naked around shuri and refuse to be intimate. Shuri finally caught on to what’s going and shows reader she loves her body and her new permanent scar.

Our Scars

Shuri Udaku x poc FEM reader

Warning: I guess you could say smut but it ain't nothing but Shuri eating the reader out however the words I use are the warning I use words such as pussy and cunt there is also some spitting of the reader's juices into her mouth... If this ain't for you scroll homie. Vulgar choice of words and orgasm denial but overall this is a comfort fic.

Summary: Your new scar did more than hurt you it made you aware of every insecurity you had so you did everything in your power to avoid seeing it Shuri, of course, notices this and puts a quick stop to it.

A/n: once again I don't write smut (I've typed that on my request guidelines) unless it's of my own accord I don't believe that I can live up to what you want but I mean since you asked nicely, of course, I will try.

The first week after you healed

Shuri kisses down the middle of your chest raising your legs up as she reaches your lower tummy but you stop her pulling her up to you and placing a kiss on her lips she smiles and kisses you back before traveling back down but you stop her again this time sitting up. "Baby, you okay?" She sits up to look at you in the eye "yeah I'm just not really feeling this whole..." You cover yourself with the cover and she nods "that's fine let's watch a movie" She sits back against the headboard as she pulls you to her but you shake your head "no I think I'm going to go shower" you break from her grip and walk to the bathroom Shuri scrunches her face up in confusion and disgust at your current attitude.

The second week

Shuri sits up in bed and looks at you as you're pulling on a sweater over your tiny tank she blinks "it's 80 degrees outside are you going to actually wear a sweater?" You shrug as you walk away from the mirror and over to her Shuri grabs you by your waist and presses a soft kiss against the bit of your revealed tummy below the sweater causing you to push her away.

The third week

Shuri walks to the bathroom and gently rattles the doors "baby why are we locking doors? You okay?" You open the door with a towel wrapped around you tightly she raises a brow "baby you've been acting weird what's wrong? Don't ignore me..." You walk past her and sit on the bed as you oil your body down "nothing" Shuri sucks her teeth and nods "Y/n I can tell when something is wrong with you and you're choosing to lie to me as if I can't see it."

Shuri looks at the towel and the way it's tight against your skin "you need to loosen this towel it's gone cut your ci-" she gently loosens it but you grab her hands keeping a tight grip on the towel it finally hits her in this moment what's bothering you and has been for the past three weeks. "Y/n you do know that scar doesn't change a thing about you right?" she loosens your hands and lets the towel pool around your waist revealing your naked body can only look away shake your head her words mean nothing at this moment. The scar changed everything at least in your eyes it did when it wasn't healed it was easy to tell yourself that it would go away and that it didn't mean anything but now that it's healed it's a part of you forever you can't get rid of it...you feel Shuri's cold hands cupping your face turning your attention towards her "do you think my scars make me look bad?" you look at the scars on her arms and shake your head "of course not" she nods "that's exactly what I think about yours uthando (love.) Scars are not signs of ugliness or weakness they never have been our scars show how strong, fine, and confident we are. There are tribes here where we live who permanently scar themselves on purpose to show strength baby this little scar-" Shuri points to the scar on your lower tummy "-it shows me nothing but amandla (strength) and if I have to kiss it every time you undress to remind you I will."

Shuri ducks down and kisses the scar as she gently spreads your legs "I love this scar okay? We love this scar" "we love this scar?" she nods as she kisses your inner thigh "The more you say it the more you'll believe it" Shuri gently pushes you back on the bed hiking your legs up "I can't hear you love" Shuri pulls you to her by your legs gently "I love this s- babe this is childish as f-" Shuri's thumb gently rubs up and down your slit causing you to close your eyes and let out quickened gasps. "It's not childish if it has to do with your love for yourself yitsho (say it)" Shuri leans down and you feel her breath fan against your pussy. She moves both of her hands to your thighs now keeping them still as she gently sucks on your clit first teasing it with her tongue but she's not satisfied by the moans she's still not hearing what she wants to hear. Shuri slaps your thigh so hard it's sure to bruise but it does its job and catches your attention forcing you to whimper out a reply. "I'm not going to say that it's childish" Shuri is quick to respond "ufuna ndiyeke?" (you want me to stop?) Shuri gets up and shrugs "then you can finish yourself off" you look at her shock written all over your face. "you're really going to deny me an orgasm?" She nods "yes."

One thing about Shuri that will never change is that her word is true and she takes it very seriously if she were to stop now she would no longer engage in anything sexual with you...well she wouldn't let you climax in any of those activities. She's done this on multiple occasions but not tonight you're just not in the mood to play her little orgasm denial game.

"I love my scar" Shuri smiles at your words and picks you up "there we go come on say it again mean it this time" you speak up louder this time "I love my scars." Shuri sits on the bed "it makes me happy to hear that but now that I've heard that I want to hear something else..." you look her up and down a smile it's quick to find its way to your face "and what do you want to hear?" she smiles as she sits back "your moans as you sit on your throne ikumkani wam (my queen)" she smiles as you slowly climb your way up to her face hands settled on the headboard Shuri of course notices you about to hesitate but doesn't give you that chance she's quick as she lets her arms wrap around your thighs and keep you in place "where are you going?" Shuri forces you to lower yourself on her face "suffocate me I'll be fine you know CPR I taught you" well...she does have her priorities set.

Knowing that Shuri isn't worried about breathing you don't care either as you slowly start to grind against her tongue you let yourself close your eyes and focus on chasing your own orgasm. Shuri sucks on your clit causing your legs to buckle for a moment but she holds you up as she continues sucking and flicking on it. Eventually, you become too sensitive to move on your own your legs are shaking but Shuri doesn't waver in fact she smiles against your wet cunt enjoying the way you taste and how your body reacts when you're close to your climax. Your moans and shaking legs are her motivation. Your legs start to close on Shuri and she lets them as you finally reach your climax you ride it out as Shuri laps at your folds drinking you all in but she doesn't swallow she pulls you down to her face and presses a firm kiss to your lips one that you immediately open up to. She lets the taste of her spit and your cum make the kiss sloppy, wet and nasty when you pull away she's smiling "say it one more time" you're so out of it you have no idea what she's talking about at the moment "the scar..." She reminds you and you laugh and shake your head "I love my scars." Shuri gently rubs the scar but her eyes never leave yours as she smiles "good because I love them too."

you want to stay serious but her face is all wet and it's hilarious to you, you wipe her face with the palm of your hand and smile "you got a little something... Everywhere." She nods "then help me get it off," her sly smirk tells you that once she's clean it's her turn.

A/n: Once again I do not write smut but for you baby, I tried. yall need to stop asking me to do this shit yall know I don't know how to do this so don't judge me now.

[asterrrific]

lee chan x reader

Idk what to title this

Dino x reader (ft. 95z)

Warnings: none, just loads of fluff

unedited so i apologize for any grammatical errors or whatever. i made this bc a sudden idea came to me🥹

---

It was around 1am when y/n felt herself sway in her seat.

Books, answersheets, pens, sticky notes, her laptop, and a variety of snacks to keep her awake but failed were scattered at desk. It was the last week of the first semester and she's trying to rush all of her academic backlogs.

Such is the life of a senior student leader with other commitments. Always the last to catch up with academic requirements and classes because of her duties.

She shook herself awake, forcing her hand to continue writing. Her eyes were drooping, but she persevered.

"Get it together, y/n. One last chapter THEN you can go to bed." she willed herself.

But she's been staying up for weeks now. Dark circles are more than evident under her eyes. She's lost weight as well, and she's been easily stressed nowadays.

So it was hard to battle sleep.

"Bub?" came a familiar voice. Normally, she'd get excited and awake whenever she hears the endearment, but tonight, she's a dead man.

Chan cups her cheeks gently, stilling her from swaying in her seat as she battled sleep. His eyes strayed to her paper, words not evident, but random squiggles she perhaps thought were answers.

"Baby, you're not even writing answers anymore." He chuckles lightly as he takes away the pen from her hand. Y/n tries to grab it back... weakly.

"No, I can make it... I'm almost thereeee." she whines, eyes half closed, trying to reach for her pen. Chan keeps one hand on her cheek while the other puts the pen away.

"Y/N Baby, it's been three weeks. You've been busy since the start of the month. Your body is probably hating you right now. Let me take care of you please?" Chan gently prods, almost whispering.

Y/n and Chan's friends have all been concerned about her state. She's NEVER had decent sleep since the start of the month, BARELY eats her meals and snacks on time, and RARELY goes out with them.

It worried them so much that even Chan excuses himself from practices earlier than the rest now so he could monitor y/n.

"But I need all these. I wanted all these." she counters.

"I know, bub, and I appreciate that and I'm so so proud of you... but what's the whole point of achieving all these if you're gonna lose yourself in the process, hmm?"

At this, y/n's eyes flutter open, now aware of where this is going.

She knows damn well that he's right. But she just can't help but panic sometimes, knowing that the rest of her classmates have already submitted theirs and she's probably the last one left, although she's been given a grace period.

"Let's go to bed, please? It's already Sunday. We can sleep in. You can get some rest, and I'll be with you since we won't have practice. We can do anything you want except these academics. Please, baby? Have time for yourself too?" Chan barters. He tries his best at making puppy eyes at y/n, hoping his aegyo would work on her like it does with his hyungs.

Y/n sighs as she leans her forehead on Chan's. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his nose gently on to hers, then giving it a small kiss later.

"Whatchu think, bub? Like my proposal?"

"Fine, you win. But only because I'm so so drained now. How do you do it, Channie? How do you get things done and not get guilty and tired at all?" she asks, eyes closed.

"Who told you I don't get tired and guilty? I do. I just don't show it that much." He admits.

"Why though?"

"Because I don't want to worry any of you guys."

Y/N looks at Chan, his eyes on hers, his hands finding their way back to her cheek.

"I've learned to handle myself earlier on because of the nature of my career. And the hyungs helped me a lot too. If you'll allow me, I can help you work that out as well. Because I love you and I am concerned and I want to take care of you the way you derserve to." he lovingly explains.

Y/n smiles sleepily, allowing her whole body to lose its tension. She drops forward to surrender to Chan, who giggles on the floor as he catches her.

"There's my baby girl." he coos, as he sits up, caressing her hair carefully. She snuggles closer to him.

"Oh my God, I've been craving this for a whole week. I really DO deserve this." she exclaims, making Chan laugh lovingly.

He adjusts to carry her towards their shared bedroom in y/n's apartment. Gently, he lays her down before climbing in after her. Y/n immediately attaches herself to him the minute he settles in.

Chan lets y/n lay her head on his chest. He showers her head with little kisses while he rubbed random shapes on her back, lulling her to sleep.

"We'll talk more in the morning bubs. Get some rest, hmm?" Chan says, grabbing a blanket to tuck them both in.

"Mmkay..." y/n sleepily agrees.

Chan was about to close his eyes when his phone rings. A call.

"Hello-?"

"WHERE'S THE UPDATE, CHILD? IT'S BEEN TEN MINUTES. ARE YOU HOME YET?" comes Seungcheol's prodding voice. Apparently, because of his worry for Y/N, Chan forgot to update his hyungs who were still probably hanging out together after practice.

"Sorry, hyung." Chan fumbles, as he sets the call on video, showing y/n on his chest, hoping it'd serve as an explanation.

"You got us worried here you know? How can we have ber when- Oh my God, am I seeing this correctly?" asks the older male.

Chan chuckles as he brings the phone back to his face.

"Yep. She almost fell from her seat when I came in. That's why I wasn't able to call. Sorry."

"No, it's okay. What's important is she's getting rest now goddamn... she's hard to take care of sometimes. Proud of you for being patient with her, Lee Chan." Seungcheol salutes from the other side.

"Did I hear right?" Comes Jeonghan's voice as he and Joshua comes into the picture. The three eldest are like real brothers to Chan and even y/n. They worry for them like real siblings would, that's why Chan can always go home earlier than the rest, so he can care for y/n too.

And when y/n is with them, they surround her protectively, along with the other members especially when they're out, since fans can get really pushy sometimes.

"Finally, she's getting sleep. I hope tomorrow we can go out too." Joshua sighs.

"Nope. I promised her we can sleep in and we'll do whatever we want- except those freaking acads."

"Then maybe we could go there instead? We'd bring snacks for her and whatever else she needs. Tell her in the morn-"

Joshua and the other boys stop when they all saw y/n stir in her sleep. Chan immediately caressed her hair to lull her back.

"Channie?" she blinks, trying to lift herself away from him. The boys on the screen signal him to end the call and just message instead but y/n sees them.

"Oh..." she starts as her eyes adjust to the screen.

"Heyyy, y/n! We were just checking in. Go back to sleep." Seungcheol smiles.

Still really tired and sleep drunk, y/n hums. Chan smiles as he helps her lie back down.

"We'll message tomorrow Chan. Get some sleep too. It's been a long day." Seungcheol orders, his leadership shining through the older brother figure that Chan sees in him.

Chan does a salute as the call ends. He puts the phone on dnd on the bed side table and snuggles lower to cuddle with y/n, already going deeper in her sleep.

---

The next morning, Chan wakes up first. Y/N is no longer on him, but is still asleep soundly next to his chest. Her arms wrapped around his middle while her legs tangled with his. He blinks as rays of light sneaks through the blinds, and smiles as his eyes start to focus on the sleeping beauty next to him.

Gently, he carefully carressed her face, using his finger to trace out her freckles that he loved.

Y/n hums and stirs, and Chan freezes for a second. Slowly like a cat basking in daylight, she stretches, hitting Chan's chin on the process.

This was enough to wake her up.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry Channie." she goes, caressing the spot she just hit.

Chan laughs it off as he catches her hands, kissing them both gently.

"It's good morning first before that, my love." He says, pulling her close and settling his lips to the top of her head. With a contented sigh, he inhales her scent like his morning coffee.

"Good morning, bub." she giggles. It was music to his ears.

"Good morning, bub. How was your sleep?" He asks, brushing her hair away from her face and tucking strays behind her ear.

"It was good. Really good. I think I dreamed of the oppas..."

Chan laughs loudly at this, his laugh tickling y/n's ears. God, how she loved his laugh.

"It wasn't a dream, my love. They called last night and you saw them." he explains, pinching her cheeks softly then booping her nose.

He was overflowing with love for her so early in the morning, and he couldn't stop himself. Especially now that y/n has finally gotten some rest that she so much deserved.

"Oh they did? So they're coming over?"

"Uh huh. Later in the afternoon."

Y/n reaches over to Chan's side, where her phone was also placed. He gently holds on to her waist as she lifted herself on top of him.

"It's 9am..." she announces.

"Wanna have breakfast? Or brunch?"

"Uhm... I still kinda wanna sleep more." she admits sheepishly as she sinks back to her place besides Chan.

"Then let's sleep more."

"How about the guys?" she worries. "We might oversleep. How are we gonna prepare?"

"Well, I could tell them to come for dinner instead so we could still have more time to sleep and prepare after. What do you think, bub?" he asks, pulling her close.

Y/n takes her time to answer, and stays silent. It fooled Chan into thinking she fell back to sleep.

He was about to snuggle closer and go back to sleep when suddenly, y/n jerks up, her head hitting the same spot on Chan's chin she already hit earlier.

"Owwwww" they both say in unison.

"I'm so so so sorry bubby." She frantically says, laughing. "I was going to try to kiss you!" she worries.

"Double that then." he teases her, tending to his aching chin.

Y/n caresses the spot, then kisses it. She then locks eyes with Chan.

"You can hit my chin one million times and I'd still be head over heels for you after." he whispers.

"I'll kiss all your pain away a million times more then." she whispers back.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Because you just did. Why ARE we whispering?" she giggles. Chan sighs.

Gently, he grabs her face in his hands, and softly lands a kiss to her forehead.

He stayed there for a bit, savoring the moment. Y/n closes her eyes and runs her hands on Chan's arms, enjoying the vulnerability and sweetness of the moment.

"I love you-" they say in unison again, after Chan breaks off. They laugh again.

This time, it was y/n's turn.

As they giggled at their antics, she pulled Chan by the collar of his shirt, and gently crashed her lips on his. It took him by surprise, but he quickly adjusts, burrying his hands into her hair and softly playing with them as he returned the kiss.

"God, I love you." He speaks first as they broke it off to catch their breaths. He peppers her face with little kisses, making her smile.

"I love you..." she replies, kissing the top of his nose in return. Chan pulls her back to his chest. His heartbeat drumming loudly, lulling her back to sleep after all the fluff.

"Go back to sleep, my love. We've got a lot of time." he tells her. Y/n nods, loving every moment of her rest. Her deadlines flying out of her thoughts.

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

a/n: guyyyyys it's been so long since i last wrote something here😭 uni has been so stressful lately. Maybe that's why I wrote this in this light and theme. I badly need a Dino in my life too.

Anyways, I want to write more😭 someone give me prompts or something.

And as always, if you loved this as much as I loved writing it, please leave a comment or reblog so other people would see my works too🥹👉🏻👈🏻🤍

lot's of love,

aster🫡