#give more screen time to important people

[calicoheartz]

overworked reader and paige forcing her to go to bed🙏🙏 need some hurt/comfort

Anchored Affection ; Paige Bueckers ♡﹕

꣑୧ — summary | overworked & anxious reader , paige comforting reader :) happy ending yay

wc ; 709

— warnings | hurt & angst , mature themes + topics , fluff at the end

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : this hit waaaay too close to home , tried my best to accurately represent mental health while giving you guys some angst with a happy ending ! Enjoy ◡̈

The ambient lighting in your room helped you feel a little bit at ease, the light reflecting onto the scattered books sprawled out on top of your desk, as your eyes darted across your computer screen.

You had always been a high achiever, always pushing yourself to excel in every aspect of your life. Whether it was constantly studying for exams, or finishing your homework wayyy in advance, you always centered your life around academics.

You had struggled with anxiety since you were a kid, often struggling to express your feelings, and having a tendency of bottling everything up. With the pressure to succeed, to meet the expectations of others, weighed heavily on their shoulders, a burden that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

Paige had started to notice your habits were starting to take a toll on your mental health, but as much as she tried to support you and be there for you, it felt like she was helplessly watching you slip deeper and deeper into the darkness of your own mind.

The clock on the wall ticks, the lines of exhaustion etched into your face were unmistakable, a silent testament to the toll your overworked schedule was taking.

Your girlfriend Paige on the other hand, was already in bed. She knew you had work that had to be finished, but once it passed a certain time, she knew she had to drag you into bed with her.

The blonde simply sighed, slowly getting up from your shared bed and made her way to the living room, where she discovered you sprawled out against the floor, with papers scattered in every direction around you.

"y/n, it's past midnight," Paige's voice was gentle but firm, cutting through the silence of the room. "You need to rest. You've been pushing yourself too hard lately."

But you simply waved off her concern with a tired smile, their eyes fixed on the glowing screen in front of them. "I just need to finish this one thing," you insisted, your voice strained with fatigue.

Paige's heart ached at the sight of your stubborn resolve, knowing all too well the dangers of neglecting one's own well-being in pursuit of perfection. With a sigh, she approached you and gently closed the laptop, ignoring your whines of protest.

"y/n, listen to me," Paige's voice was soft but unwavering as she took your hands in hers, her eyes searching yours with an intensity born of love and concern. "I know you have a lot on your plate, but you can't keep burning yourself out like this. You need to take care of yourself, okay? You're important to me, and I hate seeing you like this."

You felt the weight of Paige's words settle over them like a comforting blanket, warming them from the inside out. Tears pricked at the corners of their eyes as they finally allowed themselves to release the pent-up tension they had been carrying for so long.

"I'm sorry, Paige," your voice slightly cracked with emotion as you buried your face in Paige's shoulder, allowing yourself to be held in her comforting embrace. "I just...I'm so afraid of letting people down. I feel like I have to be perfect all the time, and I'm so tired of it."

Paige's heart broke at the raw vulnerability in your voice, the weight of your shared struggles hanging heavy in the air between them. But she also felt a surge of determination, a fierce desire to protect you from the relentless pressure of their own expectations.

"You don't have to be perfect, baby," Paige whispered, her arms tightening around them in a gesture of unwavering support. "You're already more than enough, just the way you are. And I'll be here every step of the way, cheering you on and reminding you to take care of yourself."

With Paige's words echoing in their ears, you finally allowed yourself to surrender to the sweet embrace of sleep, their weary body finding solace in the warmth of Paige's love. And as they drifted off into dreams, they knew that no matter what challenges the future may hold, they would face them together, hand in hand, bound by a love that could weather any storm.

tbh idk how to feel about this yet. I’m trying to put out the best content while also writing fast enough to finish all the reqs. As always , tysm for reading ❤️

[strqyr]

genuine question: do people want bad, inconsistent writing? is that it? because that's the only way "taiyang is and always has been a horrible father and yang had to raise ruby all on her own and she resent him for it" makes any damn sense.

like. where's the resentment?

where is yang, while happy that ruby is one step closer to achieving her lifelong dream, feeling just slightly frustrated that she's once again sharing a room with her sister, when going to beacon was supposed to be a place just for her for at least two years without having to watch after ruby and feel guilty over it?

where's the resentment when tai sent zwei to the girls to be taken care of while he's away on a mission, placing that responsibility on yang again? why show yang instead being flippant about the whole ordeal, and shrugging it off like it's nothing, being ready to leave zwei alone in the dorm room for the week they're away because he has the absurd amount of food and a can opener tai provided them?

where's yang bringing up how she had to apparently grow up early because tai wasn't there, when she wanted to be treated like an adult?

where's the resentment when yang was about to leave home under the assumption it was her keeping her father from going after ruby, only to find out he isn't coming with her, once again leaving the responsibility of taking care of ruby on her shoulders?

because the show i watched, it doesn't exist. to even remotely get to that point you'd have to ignore ruby talking about their dad in a way that makes it clear he was present and raising them, you'd have to ignore yang having to wait for him to be out of the house to leave herself once again proving he was present and attentive of them, you'd have to ignore ruby's first happy memory being from that same time period (and with no corresponding sad memory to counter it), you'd have to ignore him reading them bedtime stories and taking them out for boba after school, making sure he's spending time with them even when he's busy with work.

you'd have to ignore that both yang and ruby have a good relationship with their father.

that is not to say tai doesn't have his flaws—every damn character in this show does—, but that's exactly what V4 is about. the rift that existed between yang and taiyang was his refusal to talk about raven and doing his best to prevent her from looking for her. that's it. just compare the difference in tone between yang's "oh, so now we can talk about her?" and "i don't know. some things you just need to be there for." and it's clear as a day where the resentment actually lies.

therein lies the core of the arc between yang and tai, and like many issues between characters in this show, it gets resolved: for the first time ever, he properly talks with yang about raven, and when yang is about to leave, he doesn't try to stop her like he has before; instead, he asks her where she's going, and gives information that might help make her journey easier.

if they intended there to be any lingering resentment from yang, 'boba' was not the way to do it. we know what yang's resentment looks like: anger, snappiness, the like. it's not quiet, almost somber.

they could have written yang treating tai's absence in vacuo as something she has come to expect from him, but they didn't; instead, she wonders why, because she can't fathom what could be more important for their father than being there, in vacuo, with them.

and that alone comes as validation for everyone who has wondered the same: why is tai staying in patch when everyone else is on the move? this is a character we're first properly introduced to as a father who has fallen asleep by his daughter's bedside waiting for her to wake up, a father who is almost brought to tears by relief that both of his daughters are back home and safe.

a father we last saw being absolutely desperate for his daughter to come back on screen when ruby's message cut short.

and beyond brings a sledgehammer and says yes, it is odd that taiyang hasn't left home to be by his daughters' side. wonder why that is, must be something important, wink wink ;)

and if you ask me, that sounds like a pretty damn good "long con", and damn good writing.

[auseyre]

One of my favorite quotes is “everything in life is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” Misattributed to Oscar Wilde.

Vegas absolutely understands this idea. When he tells Pete, “A guy like you, it’s no  fun if you don’t give in” It’s not about consent at all, it’s about power and manipulation. We already know that Vegas is willing to engage in some level of SA because we saw it on-screen, with Porsche, so it’s a bullshit idea that consent is that important to him. 

In Pete’s case, though, there’s no power in him raping Pete. He already has him held hostage, under his control. There’s a chance Pete wouldn’t even fight back, just considering it another form of torture. 

No, Vegas feels vulnerable and angry and that won’t do. He tries to get Pete to back off, with aggression — “You think it serves me right, huh?” and instead, Pete offers him sympathy and understanding. So Vegas defaults to what he does best  — manipulation  — to regain a feeling of power. You can see the change here, from the “real Vegas” he’s been showing Pete, to the fake one.

He manipulates Pete, first by saying that Pete likes him moody and angry. By implying his behavior turns Pete on, it takes the weakness out of his actions. Then he manipulates him by giving him a choice. If he can get Pete aroused and thinking about sex with Vegas of his own free will, he gets the ultimate power rush. Lusting after Vegas is a betrayal of Pete’s commitment to the major family in a way that Pete eating and even Pete staying by his side when Khun Spikes dies is not. Eating is for survival and compassion is for the other person.

I think he was genuinely surprised when Pete kissed him though. He’s gotten what he wanted. He feels like he has the upper hand back and he can leave cock of the walk once more. He underestimates and misunderstands Pete every step of the way — because he’s not used to dealing with people who aren’t playing a game at all times — and this is a perfect example. He tells Pete not to hold it in, and he doesn’t. 

There’s no advantage to Pete choosing Vegas in this, unlike Tawan, or Ken, who are at least partially looking out for themselves when they betray Kinn. Choosing to have sex with Vegas was solely for Pete. That was Vegas, owning Pete’s desire. That was Pete’s desire for Vegas being more important than anything else.

By making Pete choose him though, Vegas gets caught up in his own snare. For maybe the first time in his entire life, Vegas isn’t second, isn’t also a means to an end. And when Pete gives in, it’s not tentative, not hesitant, not holding back something to have an ace in the hole. Pete offers him everything, and that feeling consumes him as well as Pete. And that’s how Vegas, despite his manipulations, gets captured by the game.  

[jmliebert]

♡ Aemond as your boyfriend ♡

(modern) headcanons

meetings in the middle of the night, piercing glances and desperate kisses, Aemond is a little bit obsessed about you

when he's with you, the hard lines blur, revealing a softness that he's kept hidden from the world

when he kisses your palms, he does it slowly, with such devotion. one finger at a time, his eyes never leaving yours

and when you’re not close he needs to know where you are, who you're with, and what you've been doing. he acts like it’s just concern, but there's a possessive edge in his questions

when you're around other people, especially if they're attractive, he becomes extra possessive. he won't outright tell you he's jealous (duh), but you'll notice how he puts his arm around you or touches your shoulder, keeping you close. and that little smirk of his appearing

he holds your hand gently, his thumb brushing against your skin

Aemond doesn't usually like sleeping with someone glued to him, but with you, he makes an exception. over time, he even grows to enjoy it, finding comfort in your warmth

he spoils you, he'll run hot baths for you, and when your shoulders are sore, he'll give you massages (that often lead to something more…just sayin) and let me tell you he’s surprisingly good at it, using his hands to work out every knot while whispering sweet nothings in your ear. he makes you feel important, he makes you feel wanted

when you're asleep, he can't help but touch you. he caresses your cheeks, runs his fingers through your hair, or traces the outline of your hips, silently watching and swallowing you whole with his eye

going back to spoiling you…he might leave a piece of tasteful, expensive jewellery by your bedside, or bring you bouquet of red roses out of the blue

though he may appear distant at times, he's actually attuned to every word you say. he absorbs your conversations, and if you express even the slightest interest in something, you can be sure he'll get it for you

even though he’s serious with others (and often very stiff), he loosens up with you. he might put on a sheet mask when you're watching a movie, just because you asked him to, and he’ll do it without complaint

and about movies, he'll watch every horror movie with you, never flinching at the jump scares or gory scenes. but he's secretly thrilled when you curl up into his arms, hiding your face against his chest, squeezing him tightly. He'll calmly whisper when the scary moment has passed, gently coaxing you to look at the screen again, reassuring you that it's safe to watch now

also I think that he’s the type to show up at your window at 3 AM dressed in black, just because he missed you and your heart races at the sight of him smiling at your surprised expression

he takes you in his arms and kisses you like he's been starving for it, his hands tightening around your waist as if he'd never let go. and every time you gasp in his lips, he loses his mind a little

about intimacy…Aemond is not shy, he likes it rough, raw, and intense. he grips your neck with just the right amount of force, whispering filthy words into your ear that send shivers down your spine. his touch is possessive, he's fascinated by your body—obsessed, really

his mouth finds every inch of you, trailing a line of wet kisses down your lovely skin. he adores the way you squirm beneath him. when he thrusts into you, it's with a force that leaves you breathless, and he bites your nipples with a primal hunger

his hands explore with a kind of need that leaves bruises, but you crave that pain. he is unrelenting, his fingers digging into your hips, your thighs, anywhere he can find purchase

yet!! for all his intensity, he is mindful of your pleasure. he ensures you come first, savoring every ripple of your climax, holding you tightly as you shudder against him

he releases his hot ropes of cum deep inside you (if you’re up to it), and even then, he doesn’t let up. his hips continue to move deliciously, slow and deliberate, milking every last drop of his orgasm. wanting to stay inside you for as long as he can, it feels so good inside you

Aemond’s gaze stays fixed on yours, his breathing ragged and uneven

and after, he treats you with the gentleness of a lover who understands the aftermath of such raw sex. he cleans you up, wiping away the sweat and sticky remnants, kisses your forehead, murmuring how beautiful you are, how good you are for him, but even in those quiet moments, you can feel the intensity of his desire, a fire that never truly goes out. he’s restless when it comes to you

in moments like these, when Aemond is close to your naked body, his hands tracing the contours of your soft skin, he becomes vulnerable, as if the touch of your flesh unlocks something deep within him

you see he often struggles with his emotions and how to put them into words, hence his presents and little gestures, but in moments like this when the world is reduced to just the two of you, he breaks open a little, revealing the depths of his feelings

love is not a word he uses lightly. so when he whispers it to you for the first time in the quiet of the night, when the only sound is your shared breathing and the rustling of sheets

your heart skips a beat. it's not just a word—it's a confession, a declaration of something timeless. the weight of it is enough to crush you, and when he says it, you know he really means it

as he speaks, you can feel the hesitation in his voice, the rawness of his emotions. it's hard to open up to someone like this, despite he tells you that he would do anything for you, that he's at your service

it's funny because at first, you'd think he had you wrapped around his finger, completely under his control. but as time went on, you realised it was the opposite—he was the one utterly at your mercy

these intimate confessions, shared in the darkness, become a sacred bond between you. it's not just about physical closeness; it's about laying bare the heart, exposing the vulnerability that he hides so well from the world

after Aemond's confession, you feel a profound shift in the atmosphere, a change in his touch. it's as if, for the first time, he don't want to just fuck you, he wants to make love to you, you in his arms

you melt into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that feels almost reverent

the urgency and roughness that usually accompany your moments of passion are replaced with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Aemond's hands explore your body with a gentleness that surprises you, tracing delicate patterns on your skin. his lips move across your shoulders, your collarbone, and then up to your lips, kissing you with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. it's a kiss that tells you that you are cherished, that you are loved

his movements are unhurried. he holds you close, his forehead resting against yours as he moves within you, his gaze never leaving yours

the way he holds you, the way he touches you—it's all so gentle, so intimate, and it feels like he's pouring his soul into every gesture

when it's over, Aemond holds you even closer, his breath warm against your skin

the rest of the world fades away, and it's just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet comfort of the night

@venmondiese ! ! !

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about aemond ♡here♡

[nrilliree]

I saw a post complaining that the show goes above and beyond to give Syrax a personality + bond with Rhaenyra but doesn’t even given TG dragons personality/bonds with their riders and they’re neglected and they specifically named Dreamfyre and I just- Dreamfyre is basically non existent in this narrative. Helaena herself neglected Dreamfyre so, why would they waste money and resources giving a dragon that doesn’t even participate in the dance a personality + bond with its rider?

Not to mention Rhaneyra is the centre of the story. Syrax was in the cradle with Rhaenyra and she was the youngest dragon rider and only dragon rider Syrax has known and at the stage were at in the show, she’s been with Syrax for over 20+ years. Syrax is the mother of the dragons of Rhaenyra’s children. Why wouldn’t they highlight over and over again the bond between these two and how connected they are?

It’s bad enough TG has made up entirely new characters and slapped the names ‘Alicent’ and ‘Aemond’ on it and now they want to make up dragon bonds and personalities as well 🤦🏽‍♀️

Well, I'm sorry, but why don't Aegon, Aemond and Helaena have the opportunity to appear on screen more often? Because the show still makes Alicent a more important character than them, even though as they grow up, she should be pushed aside in favor of Aegon and Aemond. I know that according to them, screen time should be taken from TB and given to them, but it doesn't work like that…

Dragons are incredibly expensive. There weren't many of them in GoT, the focus was mainly on Drogon, although their designs were identical and with such dirty colors that it was sometimes difficult to tell them apart. In HotD, each dragon has a unique design, the colors are bright and distinct, so they must be even more expensive to make. So it's clear they won't push them any more than absolutely necessary. Dragons appear when and only when they are needed in the plot. TG want season 2 to start with Helaena and Dreamfyre in the same scene as season 1 started with Rhaenyra and Syrax. Syrax and Rhaenyra showed up for the usual ride, but that was just to show that "hey look, she's the main character" and then we don't see "unnecessary scenes" like that unless they serve to introduce something, like showing that Laena he is now a Vhagar rider. The truth is that neither Helaena nor Dreamfyre are important in the Dance. Helaena will be important in the B&C scene and her own death. This is the sad truth. She doesn't do anything else. Dreamfyre will probably appear in two or at most three scenes throughout the series - perhaps the funeral, Helaena's death, and during the assault on the Dragon Pit. Similarly with wild dragons - people want them to appear, but if the Cannibal does appear, it will be for a few seconds when he eats someone.

[catbeeisafraid]

I don’t have like a ton to say about this but I have mixed feelings- also spoilers ✨

I like Crystal I really do but at times her dialogue bothered me and some of her behavior was kind of obnoxious to me- like at times when she started aggressively inserting herself into situations and just kind of made it about her? Like in episode seven (though this happened many other times too) where she was having a total fit about not going to hell when it’s clearly for her own good and not about her no matter how much she cares? and I totally understand that this is her being written as an immature teenager who hasn’t been dead or a teen for 30-100 years but as a teenager this sort of selfish immature writing kind of gives me icky feelings because I know so many people who are mostly emotionally intelligent not just raging all the time.- and I mean that for a lot of teenagers and teen girls in writing, to make them tough and likable they are made volitile and annoying which to me is not likable (my opinion, I just don’t like the trope that’s not what I’m talking about right now anyway-) I do think she had good development and I liked her a lot better by the end, some people on other forums were saying that her actress was weaker than the rest of the cast and I don’t really know about that? I think maybe she was artificial at times but I’m blaming that on the writing. I also didn’t like her dialogue about her “crazy demon ex” either, it felt very forced? -Not her emotions about the whole mind cage thing I get that but just all of the “UGH WHY ARE THEY SO FUCKING NOSY IM JUST TRYING TO GET OVER MY STUPID STUPID CRAZY ABUSIVE STALKER DEMON EX BOYFRIEND UGHHH ILL DOUBLE KILL THOSE BOYS IF ITS TGE LAST THING I DO” that felt out of place to me- Lastly I get that this is also an aspect of her teenager-ness but I didn’t like the amount she cursed? I have no qualms with cursing but it felt to me like when little kids and middle schoolers start cursing where they just explosively yell fuck when like literally nothing warranting that kind of expletive has happened? She curses too often it makes her sound really stupid? Like the ep 7 “take me to hell I won’t die” thing, she was screaming at Charles who was being pretty reasonable like “fuck that I’m going he’s my fucking friend too fine then fuck it- fuck you ill find another way to get to hell” like yes she was emotional but that isn’t what teenagers sound like guys?

idk- I’d love to hear what other people think and to be clear I do like her I just focused on the negative- I guess it’s a human thing. She had lots of strong points just I ending up not liking how much she was on screen, this isn’t really about you? It’s about the dead boy detective? Give me more ghosts or Edwin or Charles or Jenny or Niko or Mr walrus please? They were fun I like them? I just felt like there were times where she was over shadowing Edwin and Charles and they are what’s actually important to the show? I think I’d like her more in smaller doses- I felt like I spent too much time having to stop and be like “girl step back this is not about you, you are not the star right now”

and to the argument of her actress being inexperienced or over acting or just not great- I have no specific feelings on this but like the other main cast had for the most part very little screen acting experience and were Fantastic so i don’t know what to feel in that area? so yes, i think crystal is an interesting character and i think she grew on me and developed in the season but i also definitely think that she’s annoying and I’m conflicted because i don’t want to not like her-..

what are your thoughts? Id love to hear different perspectives but please be nice to me because I’ll probably delete this and cry (unless that was your goal, then carry on)

that was all like super ramble-y sorry- but I hope I communicated semi accurately! Thank you

[jules-hoard-of-stuff]

PSA for Across the Spiderverse:

Do NOT see the new Spiderverse movie if you have any form of epileptic condition or conditions affected by bright lights and rapidly changing colors.

I will not be spoiling the plot or anything happening in it, but it is important that people know, because ohhh my god the AMOUNT of flashing lights and rapidly changing colors from beginning to end was so rampant that even I, a non-epileptic autistic person, got a severe headache and wild overstimulation. They do not give a warning in theaters at all that this movie is NOT epileptic friendly from the literal beginning with the beginning credits - which is so, so sad!

This is a beautifully made film, it's wonderful, it's amazing, but unfortunately, it's not a good time for anyone super affected by bright flashing lights in rapid succession, especially those seizure prone.

I wanted to put this out there BECAUSE there are no theater warnings. Idk if anyone else has put it out there, but it is SUPER IMPORTANT!!!

I wish you all a lovely day and hope they eventually have a remaster that will be much more friendly to epileptic and other people affected by bright, flashing lights.

(EDIT: Changed all text to plain text for screen readers! Sorry about that, my bad!)

SECOND EDIT: please do not fight in the comments of my post please... if you guys wanna talk stuff out in DMs, that is a-okay and not my business but I directly get notifications for everyone's comments and replies- including people fighting in the comments.

I understand that some theaters have warnings in them. Mine did not, and many other peoples' did not. It seems to be a theater by theater basis, so please understand that is where I'm coming from. If you had a warning in your theater, that is wonderful! And I'm very grateful that ya'lls theaters had warnings! That is a great sign. But please under stand that mine and many others' theaters don't have warnings.

Please take any arguments off my post, it is not meant to be grounds for heated discussion, just a warning for people who are photosensitive or epileptic. Thank you.

[sturnsbae]

heyyy can you write smth about matt calling the reader "my baby" in podcasts, videos and even in front of their families without caring who's around?

MY BABY - MATT STURNIOLO

warning: very very soft matt, so if you’re not into pure fluff then this story is not for you!!

—

matt never fails to express his love for you. he’s so passionate about loving you, and making sure you know that. one day around the beginning of your guys’ relationship he had accidentally let a new nickname slip, and you fell in love with it.

you were wrapped in his arms cuddled up in his bed as both of you were dozing off. “i love you. you’re my baby,” matt had groggily let slip out of his mouth. the corners of your lips had turned up when he said this.

“i love that nickname,” you had said. so then it became yours. all yours.

~

the guys are recording a podcast episode on happiness and your name is brought up per usual. matt’s face lights up immediately and a big smile appears on his face.

“oh yeah she’s a huge form of my happiness. it’s like an instant serotonin boost whenever she’s around, she’s my baby.” he smiles, not at all ashamed that both of his brothers are around, as well as all of the viewers who will be listening to the podcast episode.

“it’s so cute that you call her that,” nick smiles in awe.

“it’s disgusting nick, don’t lie to him,” chris groans.

“shut up chris, you’re just mad that you’re single,” matt retorts.

~

matt’s phone rests on the center console of the car facing with the screen up. he’s in the middle of talking to nick when he feels a buzz and notices his screen light up out of the corner of his eye. his head turns and he notices that it’s a snapchat from you.

he grabs his phone and leans back in his chair as nick and chris bicker, opening the photo from you and immediately blushing. he bites the insides of his cheeks to prevent a smile, but ultimately fails when chris calls him out on his so called “antisocial” behavior.

“dude get off your phone, stop being antisocial! we’re filming!” chris rolls his eyes.

matt shuffles to put his phone away, not enjoying the sudden spotlight on him. “sorry sorry, i was just snapping my babyyyy,” he sing-songs to piss chris off.

“ew dude! i hate couples,” chris huffs and crosses his arms as he slides down in the passenger seat.

“you’re just mad that matt is cheating on you with y/n,” nick chuckles from the back seat.

“you know what, you’re right!” chris says as he sits up and gets close to the camera shaking his finger at it, “you know what y/n! i’m matt’s passenger princess not you! and i was his baby first too!”

“oh my god,” matt laughs and rolls his eyes playfully at his brothers antics.

~

you were visiting his parents in boston for the first time, and you were beyond nervous to say the least. it was such a nerve wracking feeling to be meeting the most important people in his life besides you and his brothers.

“they’re gonna love you, y/n. you’re my baby, they know how much i love you. they’re gonna love you just as much, maybe even more!” matt reassures you as you both walk a few paces behind his brothers in the airport.

you give matt a nervous smile as you both approach the car where both of his parents are waiting in the pickup line. mary lou quickly gets out of the car and hurries to hug her boys, before approaching you and matt with a big smile.

“hi sweetie,” she smiles to matt

“mom, meet my baby y/n!” matt smiles as mary lou wraps you in a tight hug.

“it’s so nice to meet you, mrs sturniolo,” you smile.

“oh please honey, call me mary lou,” she smiles at you. you then walk off towards the trunk and put your bag into it. as you walk off, mary lou turns to matt, “now i see why you call her that. she’s such a sweet and pretty girl. you did good, matt.”

—

i’m sooo sorry if this is bad it was so rushed 😭

[angelltheninth]

Yandere CEO Makes You Sit in His Lap

Pairing: Male!Yandere CEO x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, yandere behavior, forced cuddles, sitting in his lap, boss x employee, neck kissing, following instructions, power imbalance, teasing, forced intimacy, suggestive at the end

A/N: I really like the CEO concept.

Yandere!CEO knows what personal space is he just can't bring himself to respect it when it comes to you. As your boss he really does try to hold back from touching you too much. There are limits to his self-control, a control that began slipping when you too expressed interest in him.

Yandere!CEO makes you do a lot of thing for him to keep you busy and with little time to spend with anyone other then him. Monopolizing you has been his goal for a long time but he had to make sure it happened slowly over time. And to make sure you want to spend time with him.

Yandere!CEO often kisses your hand when you bring or take things from his office. Over time he increases the contact from your hand, to your cheek, to your lips, to your neck and even lower. He just can't get enough of contact with you, he craves it and wishes he could keep you all too himself all the time.

Yandere!CEO lures you in by telling you he needs a second opinion on an important decision. To his credit he wasn't lying. But you could have given him an opinion with out having to sit on his lap so he has to lean over your shoulder to see the screen.

Yandere!CEO instructs you on what to click and type while he holds you close. His hands are too busy, he can't type and keep you safe and secure so you don't fall. This is for your safety and your comfort while you work, he takes those things seriously at his company.

Yandere!CEO keeps kissing your neck while he watches what you're doing. Every time you tell him to ease up on the distracting kisses he delivers a light bite instead. You can let him do his thing and tell you how to do your job or you can keep complaining and walk out of here with bite marks all over you, your choice really.

Yandere!CEO calls you his good, no, best girl when you only ask for further instructions. You follow his orders so well, both in and out of this office and for that he will give you any reward you want: vacation days with him, money, gifts, dates with him, kisses and so much more. His best secretary deserves to be pampered by him all she wants.

Yandere!CEO warns you to stop shifting your hips on top of him like that or else there's gonna be a whole new problem for you to take care of. And don't think he wouldn't do things like that just because you're in the office and there are other people in the building. It might spice things up, you never know.

Yandere!CEO makes sure you know you're doing a good job. His lips keep brushing against the edge of your ear when he speaks, his warm breath sending tingles down your spine and making it pretty hard for you not to move like he warned you too. As soon as you're finished with work you turn on his lap, your face flustered and annoyed with his antics.

Yandere!CEO is quite familiar with the look you're giving him. It seems like he will get to use his office for other, more fun things after all. As his hands begin to unbutton your blouse you lean forward to kiss him and deliberately roll your hips into him, relishing in that small sliver of power you always feel when you make him moan your name.

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader - Johnny POV

Something is up with Johnny’s LT. 

His usual post mission behavior is nowhere to be found. Instead of being relaxed, relieved, and maybe a bit cheeky… he’s silent. Anxious. Fingers clenching together again and again, his knee bouncing occasionally until he catches Johnny’s inquisitive eye, and it stops. 

When they deplane, Price goes straight to his office as always, and instead of stopping to agree on the pub of choice for the unofficial debrief, Ghost goes straight to the showers. 

“What’s up with him?” Gaz asks, eyeing the lieutenant’s retreating back. Johnny shrugs, fingers scratching through the overgrown length of his mohawk. 

“Dinnae know.” But he’s going to find out.

“Oi, LT!” He’s managed to corner Simon in a hallway, freshly showered, Ghost and his mask neatly backed away in the bag slung over his back. “Ye skippin’ out on us?” He pulls up short, turning on Johnny with a bored expression. 

“Got somethin’ I need to take care of.” 

“That’s more important than going to Patty’s?” Patty’s is the pub of choice for the 141. It’s right down the road from base, closer to the city, an easy jumping off point for all of them to get home afterwards. Simon never skips Patty’s. It’s their ritual. “What’s going on wit’ ye?” 

“Nothing.”

“Ye’re a liar.” 

“It’s-“ Simon’s phone dings and Johnny practically buffers. Simon never gets text messages, the only people he talks to are on this base right now. He watches Simon check the message, lips quirking to the side, almost lifting in a smile. “It’s nothing, Johnny. Just my neighbor.” He says, absentmindedly, more focused on typing out a reply to whoever is on the other side of the screen. His neighbor? Simon talks to his neighbor?

“If it’s nothing, come to Patty’s.” He’s being stubborn, he knows… but he can’t help it. He loves a puzzle. 

Simon sighs. 

“Such a pain in the arse, MacTavish.” 

“But ye love me.” 

It doesn’t take long for him to put it together. 

“She has a bairn?” 

“A little girl, Emmaline.” Johnny gapes at him. 

“Ye held her?” 

“Just before I left.” Simon makes that face again, the one that nearly looks like a smile, eyes squinting above the balaclava, the face Johnny’s only seen a few times, once or twice even directed at himself. “Gave her a bottle.” 

He looks happy. He looks… proud.

“Ye care for them.” Johnny breathes, giving life to the obvious. 

Simon doesn’t respond for a while, just stares down at the cigarette in between his fingers, the half-downed glass of whiskey. 

“She's doin' it all on her own, taking care of Emma, herself. Tough little thing." He takes a drag, eyes fixed on something, on nothing, out in the street. "It makes me want... things. Things I- I never thought I could have."

"A family." Johnny surmises, words soft, and Simon nods.

"With them."

And in the dim, gritty yellow glow outside the pub, Johnny sees his LT in a brand-new light. 

[motherlvr]

3+1 times Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader

SPOILERS FOR ATSV

read part 2 here!

3 times Miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did.

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Instead of the radioactive spider biting Miles, it bit you. You turned into Brooklyn's one and only Spider-woman, while Miles turned into the prowler. Miles also helps you with Spanish.

Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of cursing, most definitely not canon, kind of slow-burn?, jealousy, morally gray reader, he's lowkey toxic, no smut, heated make-out session, im feasting on crumbs (his 2 minutes of screen time), this is not ATSV plot heavy, the whole prowler x spidey thing isn't really until the end (enemies to lovers)

A/N: for the sake of the plot, the reader doesn't fluently speak spanish, but can speak some. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since ATSV came out

1.

Miles glares at you two from across the room, predominantly at the guy you're laughing with. Surely he's not that fucking funny. Miles thinks as jealousy spreads within the pit of his stomach like a forest fire. However, you don't seem to notice his stare burning holes through the guy you're speaking to. The same cannot be said for him, however. Miles makes eye contact with him and sends him one glare that immediately makes the poor guy cower with fear away from you.

"I uh...gotta go." The guy squeaks out to you, his voice cracking with terror as he runs away. You raise an eyebrow as you watch him run away. What the hell was that? You think.

Miles appears next to you within the next moment and says, "Hey, ma." he gives you a slight smirk and wraps his arm around your shoulders. That smirk made you weak in your knees, you almost kissed him right then and there. You should be given an award for your amount of self-restraint.

"Hey Miles, qué pasa?" You greet him with a smile that reaches your eyes. Miles' smirk drops and he furrows his eyebrows at you as he inquires. "Who was that guy?" "He's just a friend, why?" You raise an eyebrow and question back. "Don't worry about it, you like him?" His words catch you off guard. You pause for a moment and turn your head to him with a judgmental stare as you shake his arm off you and say, "Miles. What is this? 20 questions?" You deadpan and continue, "He's not important, alright?" Seemingly satisfied with your response, he drops the subject.

After school, Miles and you head to his house. You've been struggling in Spanish class. Spanish grammar might actually be the death of me, you think. Since Miles excels in Spanish due to primarily being raised by his mother, you asked him to tutor you, which he surprisingly agreed to.

It doesn't hurt that you get to spend more time with Miles, either. Something about him never fails to send butterflies straight to your stomach, maybe it's his intense stare that makes you weak in your knees, his accent that somehow makes him ten times more attractive, or- You cut your thoughts off. You felt guilty for feeling this way about Miles. You know you shouldn't. These feelings you harbor would only cause more harm than good. After all, the people you love always seem to be in danger.

After a couple of hours of pure torture, (Spanish grammar) Miles started to speak, "Escúchame, mami. I-"

Loud, blaring police sirens cut off his sentence. Thanks, Brooklyn. Pretending to get a message from your mother, you glance at your phone's screen and look at Miles with an apologetic expression, "Shit, sorry Miles but I gotta go. My mother wants me home. She said it was urgent. But we're still on for tomorrow right?" Miles raises a skeptical eyebrow but ultimately says, "Yea. It's 'Ight, princesa. See you tomorrow" his accent lacing his words. You get up to kiss his cheek and wave him goodbye. As normal friends do, you tell yourself. Shit. You shake the thoughts away before your overthinking completely undoes your brain.

You wait until you're at least a couple blocks away from his house before you reveal the spider suit underneath your clothing and pull your mask down your face. You thwip your webs and swing away to investigate what crime was scheming tonight in Brooklyn. Leaving Miles alone in his room to regret not telling you.

2.

Honestly, you weren't paying attention to whatever Miles was saying. Instead, you were just focusing on how attractive you found his accent. You'd suffer through two more years of Spanish just to hear his voice. In fact, during most of these tutoring lessons with Miles, you weren't paying attention to the actual lesson. It doesn't help that he keeps staring at you with those eyes of his. But behind that cold exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't outright admit it.

Miles' voice brought your attention back to the actual lesson, "Lo entiendes, princesa?" Miles asked you with a knowing smirk. You nodded your head immediately, trying to play it off. "Uhh, si." You said with a thumbs up, immediately regretting it. That was so nerdy. You shame yourself in your mind. You pretended to take notes, shamefully lowering your head down to your notebook.

While you were pretending to take notes, Miles broke the silence.

"So what's up with you and that guy from earlier?" "I told you, he's just a friend. Nothing is going on between us." Miles puts his hands up in his defense, "Alright, mami. It just didn't look like that with the way you were laughing at whatever he said. He's not Kevin Hart."

Way to completely ruin the mood. You dropped the pencil you were holding and stopped taking notes. Looking directly into his eyes, you said "Miles, I really don't know what your deal is." "You really wanna know what 'my deal is'? 'Ight. It's 'cause-"

Miles' phone beeps, interrupting him. He cursed in his mind, not being able to tell you how he felt yet again. He glances down at his screen. "Ay princesa," Miles spoke up, his words never failing to make your face go warm. His nicknames for you weren't new by any means, but they still made your heart flutter. He continued, "Uncle Aaron needs me, I gotta roll. He said it's an emergency. Don't think I'm trying to cut this short. You're still my girl, alright?" He started to leave when he turned around suddenly. He walked over to you and turned your head to him with his hand, kissing your forehead. "Hasta luego, mami." He left the room, leaving you alone in his room with only your thoughts swirling around your mind. You were sure you were about to have a heart attack. His girl? The kiss? Miles was acting oddly affectionate. And what's with him practically using the same excuse I used? It's not like he's the crime-fighting vigilante here. You rolled your eyes.

You didn't know what Miles and his uncle were so busy doing, but you had a feeling that it wasn't very morally right. That would explain how ambiguous he's been lately. More often than not, he's had to leave in the middle of tutoring to tend to whatever his Uncle needed him for. But you can't entirely blame him, you have secrets you've been hiding from him too.

You packed up your things and left his room. "Chao, Mrs. Morales. Thank you for letting me into your home!" You said to Miles' mother while leaving. "Of course, you're always welcome here." She replied to you with a warm smile. That woman was a true saint.

3.

If you had to spend any more time confined in a room alone with Miles and just your emotions, you were sure you'd fucking lose it. By losing it, I mean grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and kissing him senseless. But you were afraid. Afraid that he would take your heart right out of your chest to shatter it and then leave you alone to pick up the pieces. So, you came up with a little white lie to get out of tutoring today.

"Is it alright with you if I skip tutoring today? My mother is sick and I have to take care of her." The lie slipped off your tongue like butter.

"Nah that's cool." He shrugs. Huh. He let me off that easy? You were two seconds away from having the dreaded 'What are we?' conversation with him after last night, until someone's arms wrap around you from behind.

"Hey, beautiful." Your friend from the other day was back. And he clearly didn't see Miles right next to you. You cringe and awkwardly take his arms off of you and turn around, "Hey, Josh." "Are you free tonight?" Miles was watching this interaction with jealousy coursing through his veins. Did this douche seriously not see him right next to you? Right before you could even open your mouth to respond, Miles responds for you. "Hell no she isn't. Get the fuck out of here, man." Miles snaps at him. Your friend's head whipped to Miles so fast you were sure he'd get whiplash. "Oh shit." He stuttered, "Sorry, man. I didn't see you...I'll leave now." He ran away as fast as his feet could take him. Poor Josh.

You glared at Miles. "What the actual fuck was that, Miles? He was just asking me a question." "He was asking you out, idiot." Miles said right back to you. "So what if he was? Honestly. What's it to you? You've been acting so possessive. May I remind you that we are not together?" You snapped at him. "Maybe I want-" He started, but this time, he was the one cutting his sentence off. He couldn't find the words to tell you just yet.

The bell rings. You look at Miles, awaiting his response. When a few silent moments pass by, you finally say, "What? What is it you want?" For once in your friendship with Miles, he didn't have a response. You, he thought. "Y'know what Miles? Until you've come to your senses, just leave me be for now." He had no right to start acting like you were bound to him. You walked to your class without him. He cursed himself in his head.

You'd been ignoring him the whole day. Yet ever the petty, he hadn't messaged you at all.

Your phone pings. "You busy with Jake?" You read. It was from Miles. That petty fucker. Your face immediately drops. That's not even his name. You left him on read and turn off your phone. For someone who thinks he's heartless and nonchalant, he sure was acting possessive.

+1

Dusk approaches Brooklyn and you're out patrolling instead of thinking about Miles. That's all you've been doing lately, and you needed a distraction.

Unfortunately, Miles had the same idea. He was out taking missions Kingpin gave him.

As you were searching the streets of Brooklyn for crime, you sensed a presence. Ahead of you was a silhouette in a dimly lit alley, their back facing you. You hid behind the wall. Finally something interesting tonight! As you climb on the walls and get closer, you recognize the figure.

Oh, great. It's the Prowler.

This wasn't your first time meeting the Prowler. No, you've fought with him in the past. He's ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He's efficient and excruciatingly fast. That's what makes him an imminent risk to be allowed to roam the streets freely.

As Spider-woman, it's your responsibility to keep the streets of Brooklyn crime-free. So, you follow him. As you're trailing behind him, crawling on the walls, you notice the people he's meeting with. It's an arms deal, you realize. As you crawl closer, you notice that they weren't regular arms. They were abnormally high-tech for these seemingly harmless criminals.

I'll just web up the couple of amateurs and then deal with the big guy Prowler, easy. Oh how wrong you were.

"Hey, boys! Nice toy you've got there." You said as you dropped your voice down an octave, disguising your voice. You jump down from your place on the wall and thwip your webs at the unsuspecting arms dealers, binding them to the wall. They were knocked unconscious.

You thwip'd your webs at the weapon and effectively took it away from them. You'd have to drop it by the police station later with a friendly note.

The Prowler lunged at you, his steel claws missing your face by an inch.

"Hey, man! That felt a little personal." You shouted, thankful to still have your face attached to your head. You used your webs to grab onto the Prowler and strike him directly on his mask. You started to run, with the Prowler tailing right behind you.

He had you cornered, but you weren't surrendering that easily. You positioned into a defensive stance, ready to defend yourself.

His mask was cracked a bit, causing his voice modulator to reveal his unfiltered voice. "Nowhere to run, spider."

Your heart dropped as your eyes widened through your mask. Not in fear, but in recognition. You could recognize that voice anywhere. That was the voice that sent shivers down your whole body, yet made you want to strangle him the next.

"...Miles?" The words came out more of a whisper. Your voice sputtered as you dropped your fake voice. You webbed the weapon to the wall, disregarding it. Turns out, he didn't need to reject you to shatter your heart into a million pieces.

His stance immediately faltered. He could recognize your voice out of a thousand others.

Prowler, or rather Miles, stood silent.

“Miles, take off that damn mask. I know it's you.” You took off your mask, and he opened his. His eyes were unreadable. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into Miles?" You sighed. You didn't recognize him anymore. You didn't know who he was. There was no way the Miles you knew had become this.

"Fuck, princesa. I didn't want you to get involved in this shit. You're the fucking spider?" You feel as if he was seeing you for the first time again. "I'm fucking Spider-woman, you dick. And I've been involved with this 'shit' ever since I got bit by a spider. Now explain this, whatever you've turned into!" You spurted out, pointing at his suit. "I got roped into business with Kingpin after my father died. Shit, I never meant for this to happen." He exclaimed.

"What, you think you're protecting me by not telling me? Bullshit." You say, throwing your hands up in the air. "I was protecting you. I was protecting you from Kingpin. Because I fucking love you. I meant it when I said you were my girl." He proclaimed.

When you thought this night couldn't get any wilder, it just did.

Alarms blared in the back of your mind, telling you to leave. Your brain is screaming at you to think about your moral obligation to stop the Prowler, no matter who he is. But your heart is telling you otherwise. You choose the latter.

"Fuck, Miles. Shut the hell up." You threw a web at his abdomen and pulled him towards you, efficiently shutting him up by connecting your lips to his. Sliding your hands onto his braids, you pulled him in closer. He immediately reciprocated and grinned into the kiss, setting his arms on your hips.

Turning into a heated make-out session, he backed you against the wall of the alley. You felt your legs giving out on you. Miles put his knee in between your legs, supporting you. He kissed you with passion. He's pinned for you for the longest time, and he finally has you. He wasn't going to give it up for anything. Unfortunately, you needed oxygen to live, so you pulled back. A string of saliva connected your lips as you parted.

He took away all the oxygen in your body, and apparently your moral compass as well, with only one kiss. Unable to open your eyes until a few moments after, you fluttered your eyes open. "I fucking love you too, Miles" You whispered against his lips. "Oh, really? Couldn't tell." He teased with a smirk, his lips seconds away from yours as he looked down at you. He held your gaze with longing in his eyes.

Muffled screams ruined the moment. Miles and you react immediately, putting your masks back on. You got your webs ready while Miles had his steel daggers out. Lowering your guards, you realize it was the couple of guys you webbed up and forgot. "Sorry, I'll go take care of them." You said as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. Miles stifled a laugh as he said, "That's alright, ma. You can make it up to me later." You heard the smugness in his voice as you swung away to the police station. You made sure to fulfill his request later that night.

---------

part 2!

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Very, very fresh bison calf.

Months and months ago I promised y'all photos of the bison birth I was lucky enough to observe at the Cleveland Zoo last spring. As requested, they'll be under a cut, because unlike this lovely photo from the zoo announcement post, my photos are... goopy.

His name is Tighee, a name which the zoo said is "the name of a Shoshone chief."

We walked up just as things started to get going, and the story is below the cut...

This is Blue, a female bison who arrived at the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo in fall of 2022 already pregnant. When we got to the habitat, there were a ton of people gathered around, and it wasn't quite clear what was going on.

Then we noticed her full udder and the extra pair of feet.

She was dead-center in the (pretty large) habitat, which was nice - though there was a crowd, she had some good distance from everyone for most of it. The calf came pretty quickly, all things considered (something especially helpful when you're holding a heavy camera up on full manual zoom without a tripod). Because she was at a distance, my friend and I spent a bunch of time showing people near us photos on my camera screen so they could get a good view.

I was honestly really surprised at the number of people who asked why the zoo staff weren't in there with her, helping her give birth. So we explained to folk that zoo staff don't normally go in with bison on a normal day because they're so big and dangerous, and that during a birth (a time of potential stress for the whole herd, the rest of whom were off to the side of that habitat) it would be especially risky to do so. But you could see people in the zoo's uniform colors clustered around the fence, keeping a close eye on her.

And then there was a calf! For folk who haven't seen what a whole amniotic sac looks like, I'm including the next couple photos.

This one is still mid-birth, as you can see. The hooves come out first, with the calf's head laying parallel to them.

Blue immediately moves to break the amniotic sac and clear the calf's airways of mucus. Om nom nom.

We have open eyes and an awake baby! The amniotic sac is full of fluid that helps protect the baby while it's in the uterus, which means once it's broken, the baby is goopy. One of mom's first jobs is to lick all of it away to dry the calf off.

A first attempt at using legs!

Nope, being born was too hard and legs don't work yet. Time to rest and recover from the effort of thinking about standing up.

The first inquisitive member of the herd, another young female, comes to check out the newest addition.

More attempts at legs! Getting better but still not coordinated enough yet.

They're starting to help the baby stand up. In a non-captive setting it would be important for him to be able to walk pretty quickly after being born, and he has to stand up to be able to nurse!

Everyone comes to check him out, now.

We have legs! They work! He hadn't quite figured out where to nurse from yet, though.

And that's your bison birth for the day!

[sweetlemontart]

call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M]

summary ⇾ to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.

PAIRING // yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRE // explicit smut, established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut, sub!reader, jeonghan tries to be angry hard!dom but is actually a soft!dom cause he's too in love with mc, not much plot tbh mostly just smut

WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex and fingering (f receiving), degradation, choking, hair pulling, some spanking, creampie, slight dacryphilia, orgasm denial(?) ig, mentions of mc's past relationship with ex!seungcheol

WORD COUNT // 8.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE // me casually coming back on here and posting after almost 2 years of radio silence (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡ btw this is my very first svt fic hehe i started liking them like a month ago? watching going svt is the only thing keeping me sane during my second year of uni :') i love jeonghan and all his manipulating mind games & cheating ways, it's the most attractive thing to me !! might drop a wonwoo fic soon too bcs he's a cutie and his wip is coming along nicely. hope u guys have been doing good hehe do like and reblog if u enjoy reading this, song rec is blue foundation - eyes on fire (skeler remix)

masterlist link

Jeonghan isn't a particularly placid man. He's not excessively ill-tempered per se, but he is remarkably patient when it comes to you. You know how he is when he's angry, and you can't recall a single time when you've been on the receiving end of his wrath. 

When something ticks him off, his eyes will darken and the heated stare he gives is shrouded beneath his lashes. When he is truly livid, he'll usually walk away from the situation, and there'll be no room for anyone to say something they'll end up regretting later on. 

It's incredible, really, that he possesses the ability to bottle his anger up when it involves you. Anger is an emotion that can rarely be suppressed, but Jeonghan does it with remarkable ease. 

On any other day, perhaps you'd appreciate his effort to control his anger, but not tonight. You've made a serious mistake, one that goes against the one thing Jeonghan had explicitly stated from the start of your relationship—keeping secrets is a recipe for a failed relationship, so if you have something important to say, just say it. Jeonghan is a great boyfriend. He gives you the freedom and privacy to do things you want to do, but this particular boundary was crystal clear, and you just crossed it.

It was your fault, really. You had broken up with Choi Seungcheol only a year prior to dating Jeonghan. The break-up had been a mutual agreement, and there were no hard feelings involved. Over time, you gradually drifted apart and had minimal to no contact until... well, two weeks ago. 

It had been at a dinner party hosted by one of your acquaintances, someone who just happened to be Seungcheol's cousin. Jeonghan hadn't been able to accompany you, so you hadn't been able to introduce him to Seungcheol. Meeting Seungcheol again after more than a year hadn't been awkward. It was like meeting up with an old friend. 

Tonight, however, the universe seems like it's conspiring against you. You had been preparing dinner when you heard a notification chime on your phone. You had haphazardly tossed your phone onto the living room couch before cooking, and your boyfriend just happened to be doing his Lego in the living room, so you called out to him to check the notification. 

There was shuffling in the living room as he stood. When he strolled into the kitchen, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he held your phone in one hand, eyes fixed on the screen. "Who's Choi Seungcheol and why is he asking to catch up over lunch?"

Fuck. 

To be fair, you really weren't expecting Seungcheol to contact you after the dinner party. You had gone without contacting each other for more than a year, so what changed now? You had told him that you found someone new, so he definitely knew there was no possibility of rekindling your relationship. He was most likely trying to be friendly, but you understand why it would seem questionable to Jeonghan. 

Contrary to what you expected, Jeonghan hadn't gotten angry at you. He simply listened to your explanation and nodded. He became quiet, a glazed look in his eyes that you couldn't interpret. Then, he sets your phone down on the kitchen counter and hummed. Oh, he was annoyed, that much was obvious. 

"Okay, well, I trust you. Just... don't do it again," Jeonghan spoke with a slight frown, then walked out of the kitchen as though you hadn't just violated the one, single rule that you had both agreed to abide by. 

Perhaps you've gone stupid, because as your boyfriend walked out of the kitchen, you found yourself trailing close behind him. A tinge of irritation slowly bubbled up in your chest as you watched him casually plop down onto the floor to continue doing the Lego set he had been doing since earlier. 

"Is that it?" you asked him. 

Jeonghan momentarily diverted his attention from his Lego to meet your gaze. He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry?"

"You just... you're not even getting angry at me?"

"Um, am I supposed to be angry at you?"

You were taken aback by his response because it suddenly occurred to you just how silly you sounded. Did you really want him to get angry at you?

"Yes?"

Jeonghan nodded wordlessly, seemingly mulling over something in his head. 

"I made a mistake, you should be mad at me."

There was a pregnant pause before he chuckled, but there was nothing humorous about it. If anything, it sounded a little... sinister. "You want me to get mad at you, baby? Want me to show you how I'm really feeling?"

You swallowed. Suddenly, you felt small under the weight of his unyielding stare. You shouldn't have nodded, shouldn't have ever said anything about it at all, because now, Jeonghan has you on the bed, doing the one thing you had practically begged him to do—take his anger out on you. 

"G-God, please..." You're not sure what it is you're begging for. It's hard to think straight when Jeonghan is between your legs, lapping at your dripping cunt with his tongue. He had warned you not to touch him, but after several attempts of burying your fingers into his silky hair, he decided to take matters into his own hand, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to your heaving chest. 

Your fingers continuously curl and uncurl against your chest, desperately trying to grab at something to ground yourself. The pleasure coursing through you makes your head spin, your mouth feeling as dry as cotton as you continue to chant your boyfriend's name. 

Jeonghan hums against you, mouth suckling at your swollen bundle of nerves. Your jaw drops open at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as you let a moan slip past your lips. He repeats the cycle a few more times—kissing, sucking, licking—until you feel the familiar knot tightening in your stomach. 

To your disappointment, Jeonghan withdraws his mouth from you but is quick to replace it with his fingers. He's familiar with your body by now, knowing what gives you the most pleasure and which spots to press to have you coming undone in minutes. 

He's rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb, middle and ring fingers ghosting over your hole, not dipping in, only lingering there to serve as a reminder of the control he has over you. "Keep your hands there," he says, squeezing at your wrists once as a warning. Then he lets go of your hands and settles his palm on the inside of your thigh, spreading you open further. 

"Jeonghan..." you whimper, legs beginning to shake as the telltale sign of your climax begins to show. 

"I need you to cum on my fingers once before you can have my cock," he says, voice coming out huskier than normal. 

Straining your neck, you peer down at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes, only to feel a rush of heat in your stomach when you see that he's already looking at you. In the dim light of your bedside lamp, you can just make out his blown-out pupils, almost obscured beneath the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead. His lips curl up into a wicked smirk, and your focus shifts from his eyes to the way his mouth glistens with your wetness. It feels so shameful, but the sight only makes you drip even more. 

"My angel wants me to be angry at her, right?" he asks you, pressing down harder on your clit, which makes you yelp with surprise, head dropping back onto your pillow. 

"Don't stop, please, I'm cumming... F-Fuck!" It's all you manage to say as you begin to writhe under Jeonghan's hold.

He clicks his teeth in disapproval when you shift your hands from your chest to your sides, fingers tightly grabbing at the bedsheet, twisting at it recklessly. He lets it slide, however, knowing you're trying your best not to touch him like he knows you so desperately want to. 

His ring finger dips into your hole just slightly, and the stretch isn't much, but it makes you keen anyway, breath catching in your throat as he plunges it deeper and deeper until it reaches his knuckle. He doesn't move it after that, keeping it buried there as he continues to play with your clit. 

"I've barely even started and you're already like this," he says in a mocking tone, teasingly biting down at your plush thigh. "Go ahead and cum for me, then. Show me how much you want my cock, baby..."

Your body caves to his words. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum with a loud moan that you don't even attempt to hide. Without warning, Jeonghan promptly replaces his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking hard, prolonging the pleasure. He doesn't mind the way your whole body is trembling or the way your thighs try to snap shut. 

"H-Hannie, fuck... fuck..."

The way you're mumbling out incoherent words only makes the blood rush down to his cock. He's painfully hard in his pants, wanting nothing more than to sink himself right into your tight pussy. It's getting increasingly difficult to think with his head than his dick. His self-restraint is starting to fray at the edge. 

"That's it, baby..." he mumbles, removing his ring finger from inside you, grinning when your hole tries to suck the digit back in. 

With his index and middle finger, Jeonghan spreads your pussy lips apart, ignoring your whine of protest as he continues to stare at your soaked cunt. It's humiliating to be so exposed and vulnerable like this, but why do you enjoy it so much? 

Jeonghan snickers, warm breath hitting your bare pussy. "Baby, I wish you could see yourself right now. Your cute pussy is clenching around nothing."

With a sheepish whine, you splay your hands over your face, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Hannie..." you grumble, hoping he would show you some compassion and stop teasing. But of course, Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't just stop there. You should know better by now that there is no one in the world more cunning and sly than your boyfriend. 

Jeonghan pushes himself up into a sitting position, sighing when he sees the way you've covered your face. He doesn't like it when you hide from him but surprisingly doesn't say anything about it. 

When you feel him shift on the bed, your curiosity gets the best of you. Peering cautiously through the gaps of your fingers, you're left dumbfounded at the sight of your boyfriend tugging his shirt over his head. The wisps of his dark hair that had been snagged by the shirt are left askew, and the view would be endearing if it wasn't for the devious look in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Then he stands, and for a second, you're afraid he might leave you there. It wouldn't be unlike Jeonghan to suddenly leave. He's unpredictable, always trying to be a step ahead of everyone. This time, however, all he does is stand by the end of the bed, eyes roaming over your exposed figure as if trying to determine the next course of action that will deliver the most favourable outcome for him. Damn him and his mind games.

With slow movement, you press your legs together, concealing your most intimate part from your boyfriend. He shakes his head in disapproval, but you make no move to rectify your mistake. It's impossible not to hide from him when he's looking down at you as though he wants to devour you inch by inch—like a lion ogling at a wounded deer. 

Very slowly, he begins to undo the string of his sweatpants. It aggravates you to see how composed he is, movements unhurried as if he doesn't see just how much you need him. Surely he notices how your eyes rove over his bare torso, committing to memory every little detail about his body even if you've seen it myriad times before. He's not particularly muscular; he's more lean than anything, elegant, and refined in all the right places. It only makes the waiting feel even more agonising. 

"Don't tease, Hannie, please," you plead, your pulse quickening when he finally steps out of his pants. 

"Don't tease? Aw, princess, you were the one getting all friendly with your ex, and now you want me to treat you like a good girl who hasn't been whoring around behind my back?" His tone is condescending, sending a surge of electricity up your spine.  

You're suddenly reminded of what landed you in the current predicament in the first place. You want to explain and justify yourself, but you're rendered speechless when Jeonghan sweeps a hand down over his torso, eventually wrapping around his hard cock. He tugs once, twice, hissing slightly at the much-needed contact, smearing pre-cum all over the tip and shaft, the ring on his pinky glinting in the low light. 

Sitting upright, you're about to speak and deny his previous statement, but the words die down in your throat when he suddenly climbs onto the bed, slowly crawling closer to you.

You squeak in surprise when he grabs at one of your legs, tugging you down just slightly so that your face is parallel to his. Then, he settles himself between your legs, cock pressed against your stomach. He has you right where he wants you. 

Jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with yours. You sigh into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your wetness on his tongue and lips. It's a pleasant mix of bitter and sweet, a combination that makes you feel dazed despite the fact that he hasn't done anything to you yet. 

Jeonghan sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, relishing the way you mewl. He starts pressing wet kisses onto your jaw, trailing down to your neck and collarbone. "You smell so good, pretty," he mumbles against your skin, licking at your sternum. 

Reaching a hand down, you grab at his hard cock, wanting nothing more than for him to slip himself inside. You're sure you're dripping down onto the bedsheet by now. Jeonghan, however, has other plans. You only get to pump him twice before he slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist to the bed. "Don't act like such an impatient whore..."

Your whine of protest trails out into a moan when Jeonghan suddenly wraps his mouth around your nipple. His mouth is hot against the sensitive bud, and the light grazes of his teeth against it makes you arch your back. 

Jeonghan's eyes suddenly meet yours, hooded with lust. He's suckling so noisily, hips grinding into yours. It's so obscene—the way he's looking at you, the sounds he's making, the way his balls press down on your clit whenever he grinds into you. Feeling overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensory, you turn your head to the side, burying your face into your pillow as you huff out a shaky breath. 

You should've known Jeonghan wouldn't be too pleased with this. He withdraws his mouth from your chest with a lewd pop. His hand leaves your wrist in favour of grabbing at your chin. His grip is harsh, but not enough to hurt. With a sharp yank, he forces you to face forward, where you have no other choice than to meet his eyes. 

He clicks his tongue disappointedly, and your eyes flick down to his lips, red and puffy from sucking. This doesn't help your case at all, because Jeonghan immediately starts vigorously shaking your face left and right, compelling you to look back into his eyes. Your head feels dizzy, but you don't miss the look in his eyes. There's irritation swirling in them now, imbued with desire and the hunger to ravage your body until you're left a broken, muddled mess. It makes you shudder, legs squeezing tight on each side of his hips. 

"You know better than to hide from me, right?" His thumb caresses the skin of your jaw. The touch is so soft, a stark contrast to the way he's glaring down at you. When you take a little too long to answer, Jeonghan taps at your cheek a few times, hard enough for you to feel the sting. 

"Y-Yes..."

He coos, stroking your stinging cheek. "Mhm, but you're not behaving very well tonight, are you?"

"I've been good, Hannie," you assert, trying to maintain your composed front even though you desperately need him to fill you to the brim. You're aching, and you need his cock to soothe the pain. Noticing his sceptical gaze, you decide to reword your sentence. "I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise."

Jeonghan is thinking about something, silently plotting something in his head. Fuck, you're screwed now. The intensity of his gaze tells you he's about to do something that's unlikely to be in your favour.

"You want to hide from me that bad, hm?"

You're quick to shake your head. "No, Hannie, I want you to see me."

Jeonghan scowls, pecking your lips once before sitting up on his knees. "On your stomach."

You frown, dread washing over you. He knows how much you loathe that position. "Jeonghan, please, no..."

Jeonghan's face remains impassive. "I won't ask you twice."

"You know I take a long time to cum when I can't see your face," you grumble, feeling your stomach churn, chest tightening. 

"Who said you were cumming tonight?"

The question sends you into a frenzy. "Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, please..."

When Jeonghan has his mind set on something, no amount of begging or grovelling will sway him. He's glowering at you, and three seconds pass before you relent. Having his cock inside you is better than nothing at all. 

"There you go, baby," he says when you finally shift onto your stomach. He's quick to straddle your thighs. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" 

You say nothing, feeling sulky now that you can't look at your boyfriend's pretty face anymore. "Angh!" you yelp when you feel a spank on your ass. Jeonghan does it a few more times, rubbing the tender skin between each hit. The touch should be soothing, but it only makes your ass burn even more, raw from his smacking.

Gritting your teeth from the tantalizing sting, you bite back an apology, knowing it's probably the last thing Jeonghan wants from you. Saying sorry would only make it worst for you. He's testing you, pushing the boundaries to see how much you can endure before you break and plead for some semblance of his kindness. The longer you hold out, the better. 

You feel him dip his head down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your smell. The fragrance of your perfume and natural scent is exhilarating. He wants to stay there and breathe you in all day, fill his lungs with your sweet scent so that he can still smell you even when you're miles away from him. 

A groan rumbles in his chest, you can feel it on your upper back, can hear it right beside your ear. He starts pressing kisses down your shoulder blade, digging his teeth into the smooth flesh. 

"Keep your head down," he warns you, as though he knows about your urge to turn and look at him. He sits up, his knees on each side of your legs, willowy fingers kneading your hips. 

You whine into your pillow, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. Your whole body is trembling, yearning to see him, touch him, tug on the silken strands of his dark hair. God, just the thought of it has slick gushing out of your throbbing hole. 

"I'll be good," you promise him, voice coming out breathy, desperation bleeding through. "Just, please..." you beg, quietly moaning when you feel Jeonghan's hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs just enough for him to comfortably press the tip of his leaking cock onto your cunt. 

You hear him chuckle when your whole body stiffens, anticipating the moment when he'll finally fuck you full. He sighs to himself, looking at the way your pussy is all coated in your wetness, slick gushing out onto his cockhead as he brushes it over your clit. 

"Hmm, but you only behave after you're caught doing something bad, isn't that right?"

You don't answer, unsure whether you should defend yourself or agree with his question. You gasp when you feel him slide in just slightly, stretching you out, tip prodding at your gummy walls just enough to make you feel the agonizing stretch. "More, Hannie," you mutter, practically drooling at the prospect that it would only take a roll of his hips for him to fill you up. 

However, the delicious stretch never comes, and you're left there feeling stupid, panting with only his tip buried inside of you. You whine once, lifting your head to look back at him. Big mistake. You've barely craned your neck before you feel his hand pushing down onto the crown of your head, fingers yanking at your mussed-up hair, shoving the side of your face back into the pillow. 

With a growl, Jeonghan leans down to press his lips against your ear. "What's with you today, princess? You've always been such a good girl for me, but you keep pushing my fucking buttons today. You want me angry, hm? Is that what you want?"

His crude words shouldn't make you feel the way you do, but when he speaks, his hot breath against your ear makes your eyes roll back, pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, desperate to suck more of him in. You respond with a quiet apology, voice quivering from the arousal wracking through your body. You crave him, ache for him like a desert thirsts for rain. "Need you..."

Then, as if he senses your distress, he decides to show you some mercy. Little by little, he slides into you, slipping in easily, aided by the wetness seeping out of your pulsating hole. He ignores the way you call out his name with a shattered gasp, slowly pressing forward until his hips are flush against your ass and his cock is snug in your heat, buried to the hilt. 

You can feel Jeonghan's groan rumbling in his chest, and the noise makes your pussy clamp down on him tighter. You're fisting at the bedsheet, feeling relieved, desperate, and frantic all at the same time. God, why isn't he moving? You want him to fuck you into the bed, want him to ruin you, use you until you can barely remember your name. 

Perhaps this is Jeonghan's way of taking his anger out on you—tormenting you until you're reduced to nothing but a sputtering, drooling wreck. Maybe he wants to see you plead, beg. Or maybe, he wants you to curse him out, chastise him, berate him for putting you through this torture.

Afraid of further repercussions, you decide to patiently wait, clenching your teeth to bite back from begging him to move. Seconds seem to drag on endlessly, and you resort to imagining the sight you'd be met with if you were to turn around. Would you see Jeonghan's face contorted into a mixture of frustration and hunger? Would his eyes be crazed and heated? Maybe he's enjoying the excruciating wait, peering down at you with an amused grin, tongue peeking out to rest against his lower lip just slightly. You're dying to know. 

Then, as if he is satisfied with your unwavering determination to remain still for him, he loosens his hold on your hair, gently brushing the dishevelled strands back. His thumb extends out to stroke at the tendrils of baby hair stuck to your temple, damp with perspiration. "You want me to move, baby?"

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you have half a mind to consider saying yes, but a nagging feeling tells you it might be a trick question. Jeonghan must've sensed your apprehension because you hear him chuckle. 

Without any warning, he draws his hips back, pulling out until only his tip remains inside before plunging in again. Your jaw slackens into a silent moan. The lack of stimulation has made your body feel so attuned to his, sensitive to every little movement. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, feel his breath on your neck, and the ridges of the veins on his cock against your pussy. 

"It's not a trick question, you know?"

You're quick to nod your head as best as you can. "Please move," you breathe out, feeling like you're on the verge of just turning around and demanding him to fuck you the way you both need it. 

His hand grapples onto the sheets by your head, delivering another thrust into your cunt. His movement is languid, as though he wants to take his time. It's driving you crazy, just how collected he seems compared to you. Your body feels as though it's burning, lit ablaze by his kisses, touches, and every single point of contact between his skin and yours. 

Your eyes zero in on his hand propped up on the bed, right in front of your eyes, honing in on the way the sheets bunch between his fingers and the way his ring sits snug on his pinky. Subconsciously, you reach out for it, fingertips digging into his knuckles, nails pinching into the skin when he thrusts again. The movement is more rushed this time, jostling you up on the bed just a little, which makes you gasp. 

He removes your hand from him, hurriedly pressing your palm into the bed, cradling your hand from behind, his fingers sliding through the spaces of yours to intertwine them. The gesture feels so intimate, and it leaves you feeling disoriented. "Fuck, Hannie, so good..."

Jeonghan chuckles, peppering kisses all over your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake wherever his lips meet your skin. "I've barely even started, baby."

Jeonghan pushes himself up onto his knees, letting go of your hand to place both his hands on your hips. He doesn't miss the way you groan at the loss of his warmth on your back, but he dismisses it. He pushes in once, twice, his gaze fixed on the point where his cock keeps appearing and disappearing into your drenched cunt. 

You barely register it when Jeonghan hauls you up onto your hands and knees, lost in the thought of him, only comprehending the situation when he once again slides into your aching pussy. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, elbows buckling, almost sending your face flopping back into your pillow. 

Jeonghan doesn't feel the need to take it slow anymore. His thrusts are no longer feeble, and his pace is steady. The sound of skin meeting skin fills his ears, mixed with your broken moans. It sounds like an obscene euphony, a harmony that makes his head feel foggy and hazed.

 "Fuck, pretty, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jeonghan grunts, sneaking a glance down, only for his pace to falter when he sees the way your slick is coating your inner thighs. The view is so lewd, salacious, dirty, and messy. "My messy fucking baby," he mumbles, picking up his speed, eyes fluttering when he feels your walls tightening around him. 

"Jeonghan... Jeonghan..." You're chanting his name like a mantra, eyes pinched close, savouring the feeling of being pumped full. 

"Yeah... that's my name, baby," Jeonghan responds, restrain starting to slip, evident in the way his voice cracks just slightly at the last syllable. "Can you cum like this?"

You promptly shake your head. "N-No." It's not entirely a lie. You hate relying on your imagination like this. You want to be able to touch him, hold him, want to be able to look into his eyes as you let your orgasm crash down on you. You want to see the way his hair frames his pretty face, want to see his flushed cheeks and the sweat gathering at the dips of his collarbones. You want to see him, or you think you'll die on the spot.

"Good. Don't cum, princess." 

"W-What?" you squeak out. 

Jeonghan snorts out a laugh. "I told you before—you're not cumming tonight."

You gulp, stooping down low onto your elbow, too weak to support yourself up on your hands. "I wanna cum, H-Hannie... Please let me..."

Jeonghan only snickers, ramming into you harder, letting out a content sigh when your moans seem to escalate, becoming more wanton and desperate. You're squeezing him so tight, white ring of your milky slick forming a ring at the base of his cock, causing him to groan out loud. He'd like to think that he's in full control, but everything about you is making him feel delirious—your smell, your pussy, your moans. 

Ever the competitive man, Jeonghan feels like he's losing this game. He's supposed to be angry at you, but why does it feel like you have the upper hand? Feeling irked by this sudden revelation, he stretches a hand out, wrapping it around your neck. He hears the surprised gasp you let out when he pulls you upright into his chest. 

Your hands immediately fly up to circle around his wrist, taken aback by the sudden change of positions. His other arm slithers around your waist, keeping you balanced as he continues to fuck you from behind. "Fuck, Hannie, your cock feels so good," you can't help but murmur, arching your hips just slightly so he can reach deeper into you. 

He scoffs, burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the spot underneath your ear, strands of his hair tickling your skin. As he expects, your head lolls the other way, granting him better access to your neck. "Of course it feels good, baby. I've fucked you so many times your pussy is used to me now. Wouldn't be able to take another cock without thinking of mine, would you? Wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't my cock, right?"

His fingers dig into the sides of your neck, constricting just enough for you to gradually feel the drowsiness from the lack of air. It's intoxicating, being able to surrender yourself to another person completely, knowing they have you in the palm of their hand.

You're too preoccupied with the feeling of his hand around your throat to realise his other hand sneaking down to settle between your legs, middle and ring fingers starting to draw gentle circles into your bundle of nerves. It's almost too much—the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way his lips skim over your neck, the chokehold he has on you, the breathy groans he murmurs against your skin. 

"Unghh! F-Fuck, Jeonghan, 'm gonna cum..."

He chuckles, delighted at the turn of events. He doesn't stop the motion of his fingers against your clit and instead presses down harder, making your head roll back onto his shoulder, a throaty moan spilling past your lips into the open air. 

"Oh?" he says in a sardonic tone. "You said you couldn't cum like this. Or were you just lying to me, baby?" His mocking shouldn't have such power over you, but it makes your heart pound with the intensity of a raging storm.

"N-No, it's because you're... your fingers—"

"Hmm, what's with my fingers, angel?" 

The fingers on your clit start moving faster, motions rushed and relentless, bringing you to the verge of your climax quicker than you would ever anticipate. The sudden shift in speed makes you cry out in shock, eyes pinching shut. You're quick to bring a hand down to his wrist, tugging, trying to yank his hand away from between your legs. 

He doesn't relent, slapping your hand away and briefly resuming his assault on your aching bud. "Don't try to stop me now. I thought you wanted to cum."

"You told me not to," you rush out, heat starting to swell in your stomach, ready to burst. 

Jeonghan lets out a chortle. "That's right, baby. Ah, you listen so well..." Stretching his tongue out, he licks a broad path up your neck, stopping right underneath your jaw, where he proceeds to suck the skin. He wants to mark you, claim you. What better way than to bruise your pretty skin, right? To show everyone only a sliver of what goes on between you and him behind closed doors. 

"Oh, god, let me cum, please, please..." You have no other option than to resort to begging. Cumming without his consent would be catastrophic now. Not being able to see his face is punishment already to you, you're terrified of just how far he'd be willing to go to take his anger out on you.

Jeonghan presses the tip of his nose into the plushness of your cheek, humming as though he's weighing his options. "I don't think so, princess," he mumbles, the snap of his hips not once faltering, maintaining its hasty rhythm. "I don't think you deserve to cum."

You don't have much time left. Simple begging won't work now. You're wracking your brain for anything, anything. Forcing him to cum before you would be close to impossible, noting just how composed he seems. He's breathing hard, gravelly groans bubbling up in his chest, but he's nowhere near how wrecked you are.

Through your haze, you suddenly grow aware of the hand still draped over your throat. He's not pressing or squeezing, simply just letting his hand rest there as a means to keep you balanced on your knees as he fucks you open from behind. 

Sheer desperation makes you reach both hands up to claw at the hand on your neck. You're clinging onto the last threads of your rationality, knowing if Jeonghan puts even the slightest amount of pressure on his grip, all your sanity will go out the window, and you'd be hurled face-first into your much-awaited orgasm. You're playing with fire, you know it, but you only have one chance. 

"Unghh, f-fuck, please, choke me... I've been a bad girl, H-Hannie, choke me as punishment, and let me cum..."

You feel his mouth stretch into a grin against your cheek. Your walls are clenching around him so tight, pulsing, so hot and tight. He knows he has won. It's this notion of winning that has him thinking about giving in, but one look at your face has him reeling back his words. The furrow of your eyebrows, your slack jaw, your scarlet cheeks... it makes him feel sadistic. You wanted him to be angry at you anyway, what boyfriend would he be if he didn't give you any reason to make him angry? 

Then, Jeonghan watches. He tightens the hand around your neck, and continues his assault on your clit with the other, all while he continues to ram his dick into you again and again. You start to babble out incoherent words, and that's when he finally strikes. 

"Don't cum."

Those are the two simple words that send you dissolving into a whirl of pleasure and euphoria. Your ears feel like they're ringing as pure, white heat consumes you whole, moaning out your boyfriend's name repeatedly as you go rigid in his embrace. It's like shockwaves, rippling through you so forcibly you have no choice but to succumb to the raging tides, riding it out until you can fully apprehend the situation again. 

Gradually, you begin to notice the way Jeonghan holds you tight to him, how both his hands wrap around your waist to keep your body pressed to his, how his hips have stilled, hard cock still sheathed in your throbbing heat. He's pressing soft kisses onto your shoulder, coaxing you down from your high. 

Jeonghan lets your tired figure collapse onto the bed before sitting back and propping himself up on his heels. The sight is so endearing to him—you, still huffing breathlessly, hushed whines slipping past your lips at every exhale, so spent after only one orgasm. Jeonghan feels like it's so perverse of him to reach a hand down to stroke at his still-hard cock, touching himself to the sight of your curled figure. From this angle, he can see the mess between your thighs, remnants of your juices and his pre-cum smeared all over your puffy pussy lips. Oh, he definitely isn't done with you just yet. 

He hears you mumble his name groggily. Jeonghan's not sure whether you're calling out to him or just saying meaningless things in your post-orgasm haze. He doesn't waste time thinking, though, immediately swooping down to cage you between his arms, kissing along your hairline. "Tired already?"

Your eyes flutter open, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers above you with a smirk that makes your heart skip a beat. Fuck, you're really in for it. 

He coos at you, but it sounds sarcastic. "I told you to hold it, didn't I?"

You puff out a breath, shifting onto your back, obediently parting your legs so Jeonghan can slot himself in between them. "But your fingers—"

"Good girls don't talk back, do they, pretty?"

"N-No..."

He nods, eyes wandering downward, not trying to hide the way they zero in on your breasts. "No, they don't... But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asks, lowering himself to blow cool air onto your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you. Without any warning, he latches his mouth onto the skin at the top of your breast, sucking earnestly, not letting up until he's finally satisfied with the reddening of the skin there. He always loved to see the reddish hue of your hickeys turn into delicate shades of blue and purple as they heal. 

"I can be your good girl..."

"No, no, baby, you're a lying whore who doesn't do as they're told."

"Hannie, I asked you so many times—"

Jeonghan doesn't give you a chance to object, immediately slanting his lips over yours. He pushes his tongue past your spit-coated lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, letting his tongue tangle with yours lasciviously. He feels you sigh against his mouth, hands coming up to curl around the nape of his neck. 

Reaching a hand down, he positions his cock over your entrance, plunging himself into your sopping pussy without any notice. It's easy to sink back into you—you're still sopping wet and stretched open from before.

Shocked, you break away from the kiss to let out a sharp cry, nails digging into his shoulders, threatening to break the skin there. "God, J-Jeonghan!"

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, quickly finding a rhythm that makes you arch your chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his front. You finally have the chance to look at him, really look at him. Fuck, you wouldn't trade this sight for anything else. He's the most beautiful thing you've ever had the privilege of seeing. 

He notices your lovestruck eyes, cock twitching inside you as he pounds into you. He thinks you're so pretty, all splayed out underneath him, so pliant, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. Your hair fans out over the pillow under your head, thin tendrils of it clinging onto your dewy temple and neck. He understands why you love to see his face so much whenever you fuck—he thinks he could cum earlier than anticipated if you keep looking at him with that infatuated gaze.

"Fuck, baby..." he curses, and it's the first time you've seen him lose his composure. "Fuck, you're such a pretty little thing..."

Your body sings at the compliment, shuddering, legs pressing into his sides, wanting to close shut but unable to. You're light-headed, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but this feels too good to stop. With quivering hands, you slip your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling carelessly. He's growing his hair out, so the length falls just shy of his shoulders, some strands curling over his neck like delicate tendrils of silk. 

Jeonghan's low groan pulls you out of your dazed thoughts. "Hannie..."

"Mhm, am I fucking you good, gorgeous? No one else can fuck you like I can, hm?"

You rake your nails across the nape of his neck, whimpering when he shifts just a little, hitching one of your legs up and hooking it around his slender waist. He thrusts a few more times, and his cock brushes against a spot that has you jolting, mewling as he grazes it repeatedly. 

"Oh? Right there?" Jeonghan noses at your cheekbone, listening to your gasps and whimpers, feeling his abdomen tighten at the obscene sounds you let out. 

"R-Right there..."

"That's it... You think Seungcheol can get you like this?"

At the mention of your ex's name, you whine loudly. A part of you hadn't expected Jeonghan to remember the earlier incident, but you should've known better. It seems stupid to think Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't remember an incident that occurred only an hour ago. 

"H-Hannie..."

"Hm, you gonna meet him for lunch? Gonna let him try to win you over? Gonna let him have what's mine?"

You shake your head, on the verge of sobbing, feeling your eyes fill with tears. "Wouldn't do that," you rasp. "I'm yours, Hannie..."

Jeonghan doesn't seem very convinced. "Yeah? You're mine?" he mutters against the apple of your cheek. His voice is low, any traces of anger or annoyance concealed. "You wanna say you're mine, with his contact still saved in your phone, baby? Don't be silly."

Your heel digs into Jeonghan's lower back, anchoring him to you as he continues to drill into you. "But I am yours—"

"Are you?"

"Y-Yes, always yours..." A hard thrust has you gasping, tears trickling down your temple, getting caught in your hair. 

Jeonghan's pace stutters, distracted by the way you blink up at him through your damp lashes. Tears gather at your lash line, and he can't help but want more. It's a sick thought, but Jeonghan doesn't care much. How could he care when he's balls deep inside of you, feeling like he's about to explode from the way your heat wraps around him so well? He wants to see you cry for him, sob, snivel, all because you can't get enough of his cock. He wants you to cum so hard you see stars and forget about everything but him, him, him. Choi Seungcheol will be the last thing on your mind. 

When Jeonghan lowers himself down onto his elbow, he seals his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently. It's a bruising kiss, teeth digging into lips, tongue rolling together in an alluring dance. After some time, Jeonghan reluctantly pulls back, taking a much-needed breath. He groans at the sight of your lips, all plump and damp with a mixture of his and your spit. "Fuck, baby... you're mine, aren't you?" 

 "Y-Yes, yes!" you babble, vision blurring as more tears fill your eyes. 

"You're gonna let me fill you up? Have your pussy dripping my cum for days so you don't forget who you belong to. You like the sound of that?"

"God, yes, yes..." 

Your thighs are starting to shake, Jeonghan can feel it on his hips. He brings his lips over yours again, not kissing you, just barely letting it brush over yours. He can feel every hot breath you release against his mouth. "Say his name, baby."

"Unghh... Hannie—" 

He snickers. "I said his name, not mine," he says darkly, pecking your lips once. 

You're confused and so goddamn frustrated. You're teetering on the precipice of your orgasm, and he wants to play mind games with you now? "No," you whine, shaking your head. 

"No? Why are you so scared?"

"F-Fuck, please!"

"I won't get mad at you for saying it, princess." His voice has dropped down an octave. It feels like it's seeping into your brain, turning it into mush. 

"C-Can't..." you murmur, drool gathering in your mouth the more Jeonghan splits you open. 

"You can't? Why? Scared you might cum if you say his name? Scared you'll think of him when you cum?"

Your eyes grow wide in alarm. "N-No! I wouldn't do that, oh god, f-fuck..."

"Then say it or you're not cumming," he threatens, grinding harder into you, angling his pelvis just slightly so that it brushes against your clit every time he thrusts in. He watches your eyes roll back, pleasure fogging up your brain. He feels your juices coat his pelvis, splashing over his lower abdomen. Whenever his cock dips in and out, the wet sounds resound throughout the room, and it makes him hiss. "Say it," he repeats, knowing he won't last much longer. 

You frantically shake your head, moans coming out stuttered. "N-No, please don't, I can't...Hannie—"

Jeonghan notes the way you're starting to sound distant. "Say it or I'm leaving you here to cum by yourself."

Your eyes meet his—frazzled, panicked, dazed. "Please, I can't!"

"You wanted me mad, right? This is it, princess. Show some gratitude and say his fucking name."

You're trying hard to read him, to possibly decipher his intentions, but it's so hard when you feel like you're on the verge of passing out from the onslaught of pleasure. You reach one hand down to rake at the skin of his lower back, earning a throaty groan from him, a sound that makes your skin prickle. Your other hand settles on his face, cupping his jaw softly, as if begging him. 

Your eyes roam over his face, taking in his exquisite beauty that always leaves you short of breath. His tousled hair hangs over his forehead, dangling in front of his eyes, dark like pools of obsidian, drawing you into their depth. There's a radiant flush that colours his cheeks, drawing your attention to the contour of his cheekbones and jaw, dusted lightly with sweat, highlighting the sharp features. Then his lips—so inviting and soft, parting with each breath. 

Jeonghan feels almost flattered under the weight of your affectionate stare. He briefly closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, trying to pull himself together. He tries to push everything out of his mind—your delicious sounds, your intoxicating scent, your warm cunt around his cock. It's your sweet, quiet whine that pulls him out of his reverie. When he locks eyes with you again, he knows there's nothing he can do to delay his impending climax—not when you're looking up at him so tenderly, eyes fixated on him like a moth drawn to a mesmerizing flame.

"I c-cant... Don't make me say his name, p-please..."

Jeonghan swallows hard, one hand curving at the nape of your neck. With his grip he tilts your head up, letting your lips caress his. "Say my name, then. Say my name when you cum. Look at me and show me who you belong to..." 

You cum with a shout of Jeonghan's name, your whole body shaking at the sudden explosion. You squirm in your boyfriend's hold, toes curling over the back of his thighs as the pleasure ravages your whole body, surging through every nerve and every cell. It's numbing and so overwhelming at the same time, every inch of your skin humming with electricity, and every vein feeling like they've been set ablaze. For a moment, nothing else in the world matters except you and Jeonghan, entwined in each other as you lose yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure. 

"Fuck, fuck, should I fill you up, baby?" Jeonghan's voice quivers just slightly. 

The question sends another flood of ecstasy through you, cunt fluttering around his cock a second time. "Yes, yes—"

Your voice is like a siren's call to him, beckoning him, tempting him. Jeonghan is only a man, and he's not immune to a force as powerful as you. He sinks his teeth into your neck as he finally empties himself inside you with a drawn-out groan. Your tight cunt is pulsing so tightly around him, milking him, forcing every drop of cum to spill into you and coat your walls. A rather high-pitched whine escapes his lips as he slumps into you, hips flushed to yours, aching balls slick with the mixture of your release and his. 

You're panting heavily as you wrap your arms around Jeonghan, blinking up at the ceiling blearily, feeling filled to the brim with his cum still in you. Despite having the urge to clean yourself up and get rid of the stickiness between your legs, you lie there for another minute, feeling so content with Jeonghan's weight atop yours and his lips on your neck. Being with him is pure bliss. 

"Jeonghan," you say softly after some time, not wanting to ruin the peace and quiet.

He hums, rolling over to the side to lie on his back, letting his softening cock slip out of you. He pulls you into him with one arm, allowing you to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets out a pleased sigh, one hand grazing over your bare back, fingertips gliding down the dip of your spine. 

Placing a palm on his chest, you rest your chin on the back of your hand, gazing up at him tiredly. He seems to glow so prettily, eyes fluttered shut and a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, you gather your resolve, knowing that you still have something to clarify with him.

Without thinking too much, you mumble Jeonghan's name again and smile when his eyes flutter open to peer down at you drowsily. His free hand comes up to brush back the hair from your eyes. 

"I'm sorry for not letting you know," you mutter, the weight of your guilt just now settling in your heart. If you don't apologise now, the feeling might devour you whole. "I should've told you..."

The hand on your back ceases moving, palm splaying on your upper back, warm against your skin. "Baby, I wasn't really—you know—angry about it. I was a little stumped, sure, but... I trust you. I always trust you."

You shake your head, pulling yourself up slightly to look at him better. "You deserve to be angry. Jeonghan, you should be so angry at me. I should've told you as soon as I got home from that dinner party."

Jeonghan chuckles, much to your dismay. "Okay, then why didn't you?"

"I just... didn't think it was important. I felt like it wasn't anything worth telling you. It's not a good excuse, I know."

"Is Seungcheol important to you?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, unable to fully grasp what you just heard. "What! No, of course not!"

"Then what's there to apologise about?" Jeonghan says with a snicker. "Did you kiss him at the party? Did he try to make any move on you? Did he seem interested in you?"

"No to all of those. I... I told him I already found someone else," you admit in a quiet voice. 

When Jeonghan smiles at you, it looks somewhat smug. "That's my girl... Besides, it wasn't his face that you were sitting on when you got back home from that party, was it?"

Appalled by Jeonghan's words, you bring your palm down on his chest, smacking him. "You're disgusting, Yoon Jeonghan."

He only laughs, eyes crinkling as he pulls you even closer. "Don't act like you don't love it."

You say nothing, only bringing your head down to rest it on his chest again. His heartbeat is strong against your ear, and his skin feels warm under your cheek. 

"So..." Jeonghan begins. "Round two in the shower?"

He doesn't have to ask twice—you're already off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom. 

© sweetlemontart — all rights reserved.

[slutt4lovee]

friends (b.b.)

𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒 - 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2356

warnings: NO SMUT, just cutesy fluff, maybe just a tiny bit of angst but not really, nothing really to warn about. might be some typos and shit but at this point y'all should be expecting this from my dyslexic ass.

summary: After being friends with Bucky for years, you finally get the confession you've been dreaming of.

Being Bucky's friend isn't really as great as Steve made it seem. Sure, Bucky is caring and funny and fiercely protective of the things and people that he loves. Yes, he's funny and charming and everything good in the world, but he is also arrogant and cocky and so emotionally repressed that you're not even sure he knows what feelings are anymore.

Being Bucky's friend means that you're also the Winter Soldier's best friend and that is a horrible feeling. Not because of the fact that he is the Winter Soldier but more so because the Winter Soldier has a fucking martyr complex. Despite the fact that Bucky is an amazing person who you think encompasses every good aspect of the world, he's an incredible dumbass. Not just a regular dumbass, the kind of fucking idiot that thinks everyone else, everything else is more important than him. The kind of idiotic person that thinks everyone but him is worth saving, the kind who runs head first into danger because he genuinely doesn't care if he lives or dies as long as he saves someone. Bucky is the type of imbecile that would run into a building, knowing it was rigged with explosives just to save a cat.

Bucky may be one of the best people you've ever met, but being his friend is horrible.

It's caring so intensely for someone who doesn't even care about himself. It's not being able to see or even speak to him for weeks or months because he's off on some insanely stupid mission to save the fucking world or something stupid like that. It's him constantly thinking he's some kind of invincible god and you having to remind him over and over and over that he's not. No matter how much he might look like one. It's trying to convince someone that hates his entire fucking existence that he deserves every soft, sappy thing in the world no matter how much he thinks he doesn't.

But worst of all it's being in love with a complete fucking idiot who doesn't even think he's worthy of love. You'd take all the anxiety, the panic, the dread, the crying and worry a million times over if you could just not be in love with that complete fucking dumbass. Or if you could maybe convince him that he deserves all the love in the fucking world.

—

You can't sleep, never can when he's gone. Some stupid romance movie you've seen about a hundred times plays on your tv—a feeble attempt to keep your mind off Bucky. To keep your mind from imagining what he's doing on his mission and all the ways it could go horribly wrong.

It doesn't really work.

It's almost impossible to keep him out of your mind. When you're not worrying about all the ways he could be killed, you're pining after him in the worst fucking way.

Just staring mindlessly at the screen daydreaming about him and the way his clothes always fit just right, just enough to give you a good view of his muscles without being too tight. And the way he looks in his stupidly attractive one armed outfits he wears on missions—which shouldn't be so fucking hot, but it is, it really fucking is. And his lips, just everything about them, their shape, their pretty pink color, the way they look so fucking soft all the god damned time. And that boyish, way too endearing, smirk of his that makes your heart feel like it's about to burst out of your chest. And his hands and the way they feel against your skin, rough calloused fingers with a touch so soft it sends chills down your spine. And—and, God you're so fucking fucked about him.

He's your best friend, really one of your only friends, and yet you can't stop thinking about him doing filthy things—that he would probably never do—to you. It's horrible and dirty and disrespectful but you just can't stop, thinking about Bucky's mouth and if it's really as soft as it looks.

You smell him before you even hear him, woody smoke, and honey, mixed with sweat. You smile softly to yourself as he drops his bag to the ground with a little grunt. Your mind moves slowly, struggling through your lack of sleep to put pieces together. You're clumsily climbing over the back of the couch the second you realize he's really there.

"Bucky," You start to say, stumbling a little at the ungraceful way you dismount from the back of the couch. "What the fuck?" You ask, waving your hands up and down in his general direction.

He's not sure if you're questioning his appearance or his presence...maybe both. You're not really sure either.

"I just got back," He mutters, words dripping with exhaustion as his arms slip lazily around your waist, making you trip over your own feet as he pulls you into his chest.

"You didn't text," You whisper, matching the soft tone of his voice as you slide your arms around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He doesn't respond right away, he pulls you closer instead, grabbing onto your shirt to keep you there as if you had any plans on letting go. He makes a soft, barely audible noise, as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. His arms are tight around your waist, holding you to him like he's scared you're just gonna disappear and the thought makes your chest ache. You tilt your head, squeezing your eyes shut as your nose presses into the top of his shoulder, your lips just barely touching the leather on his jacket. Your nose floods with his scent, and you find yourself wishing you could capture it and keep it forever. He smells like camping in the summer, like searching for bugs and plants and pretty rocks in the woods, like staring up at the sky and pointing out the prettiest ones.

He smells likehome, warm and cozy and safe.

Slowly it feels like every ounce of worry and dread is leached out of your body. He's home, he's safe, he's here in your arms and nothing else fucking matters. This is the good part, this right here, all the worrying and sleepless nights are worth it just for this feeling. This happy sort of peaceful relief you get every time he comes back safe.

"M'sorry," He mutters after a few seconds, his words muffled in the crook of your neck. "Jus' wanted to get home."

Your stomach twists at that, a giddy sort of feeling floating around in your stomach at his words. He came straight from his mission to you. Didn't stop at his place, didn't go to the compound, he came straight to you. Straight home to you.

"Took ya long enough." You whisper against his shoulder, voice light and teasing as his grip on your shirt tightens.

He doesn't say anything, but you can tell this one must've been rough on him. It's obvious from the way he's clutching your shirt like a lifeline. Holding you to his chest like he thought he'd never see you again, like he's scared to let go. You don't ask him about it, he'll talk when he's ready, but you do hold him just as tight as he holds you. Rub your hands along his back, over his shoulder, up the back of his neck, lingering the softest touches everywhere you can reach because you know it calms him down.

"S'good you came home, you were gone so long I was about to come lookin' for you." You tell him, smiling softly against his neck at the little snort he lets out.

He's quiet for a bit longer, just standing there with his arms around your waist, his hands clutching at your shirt like he's terrifiedyou're going to vanish. After a while he relinquishes your shirt and before you can even think about pulling away, not that you would, his hands are running down to the backs of your thighs.

"M'sorry," He murmurs into your neck, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist like you weigh absolutely nothing. "Came as quick as I could, darlin', didn't even get to shower or anything."

"Did you eat?" You ask softly, holding onto him a little tighter as he hooks his arms back around your waist.

He shakes his head and you start to offer to cook him something while he showers but he's walking in the direction of your bedroom before you can get a single word out. He nudges your bedroom door open with the toe of his boot without saying a word and it makes you frown because Bucky is never silent around you. Talks so damn much you started to think he just liked the sound of his own voice (really he just loved the sound of yours but he's not about to admit something that sappy).

"Do you want to eat?" You ask, voice all soft and sweet in a way that makes his head spin.

He shakes his head again and without even letting go of you, he falls forward onto your bed, sandwiching you between him and your mattress. He's heavy, dense, thick muscle directly on top of you, but you don't complain. You wouldn't dare tell him that he's crushing your fucking chest because then he'd let go and you don't want that.

He settles with his head on your chest, his ear pressed up against the center of it. Listening closely to the sound of your heart like he didn't believe it was real. His hand slips a little under the hem of your shirt but stays resting on your hip as if all he wanted was just to feel your skin.

He's silent for a while, laying so still that you almost think he's fallen asleep. You don't say anything either because what could you possibly say? You could tell him about work or something but you're almost certain he doesn't want to hear that.

"Thought you were dead..." He whispers as he nuzzles his face against the center of your chest. His hands squeeze at your hips and you can't shake the feeling that he's trying to make sure you're real.

You don't really know what to say to that either. You stroke your fingers through his hair and you swear you feel your heart break a little at the pain in his voice.

"God, I thought you were fucking dead..." His voice cracks a little this time and his arms wrap around your waist tight, too tight but you don't say a thing. You're happy to just let him squeeze the life out of you if it makes him feel even a little bit better. "They...they got in my head, made me see things...and all I could think about was that I never got the chance to tell you."

"Tell me what?" You ask and you think your voice comes out a bit strained because he immediately loosens his grip.

"That I'm fucking in love with you," He forces out, voice rough with emotion as he shifts a little so that he's looking down at you.

Your heart fucking stops at his words and all you can do is just stare up at him like a complete fool. Cheeks flushing bright red and eyes wide as you stammer and choke on 16 different failed attempts at speech.

He loves you. No. He's in love with you.

"I thought you were dead and all I could think about was that you didn't know I loved you." He tells you, voice softening some as his eyes scan over your face. "All I wanted to fucking do was hold you and kiss you and just fucking touch you again and I know that's so fucking selfish of me but...fuck."

"You...love me?" Your voice comes out all meek and unsure as you look up at him. You're not even sure if your heart has started beating again because it feels like you could, very well, drop dead at any fucking second.

"Of course I do you fucking idiot." Bucky laughs and the sound is utterly heart wrenching to you. He tries to smile but it just looks so fucking sad that you want to cry.

And maybe he's right and you are a fucking idiot because you can't think of anything to say. You want to tell him you love him too but the words won't come up, they stick in the back of your throat and make you choke. All you can manage is to reach out, grab his face, and pull it down to yours in a pathetic excuse for a kiss.

He kisses you back instantly, taking control of the kiss, somehow calmer than you. His lips are soft and sweet against yours and nowhere near as clunky and uncoordinated as you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. He smiles a little against your near frantic lips, one hand coming up to cradle the side of your face.

It's not your first kiss, not even close, but you're so clumsy with it that it damn near feels like it. He hums against your lips like it's the best damn kiss he's ever had, strokes his thumb over your cheek and laughs when your teeth hit his.

You think he'll pull away, you would if you were him, but he doesn't. If anything he kisses you a bit harder, trying to take control of the kiss and guide your lips to work with his and it works wonders, you practically melt into it. He makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat when you finally relax and then his tongue slides over your bottom lip and you melt all over again.

You've never been the biggest fan of tongue kissing, it's always just so wet and slimy and forceful. But there's something about the way Bucky's tongue slides so so softly across your bottom lip that has you parting your lips without a second thought. And you don't fucking regret it at all.

It doesn't feel all slimy and gross like you're used to. His tongue is soft and wet and there's a faint hint of sweet mint as he kisses you. One of his hands squeezes at your waist under your shirt and he fucking groans like kissing you is the best thing he's ever experienced.

He kisses you until you're both breathless, until your lips are raw and swollen and slick with spit.

His forehead presses against yours and his voice comes out all hoarse and raspy as he says, "Fuck, I could kiss you for fucking ever,"

You laugh at that and the noise is so soft and sweet that it makes his breath hitch. You flutter your eyes open, thumbs stroking at the side of his neck as you look up at his flushed face.

"I love you too," You whisper and God, the way he smiles sends a jolt of warm heat through your body. "I didn't say it earlier, but I do. I really fucking do."

[navybrat817]

Pencil You In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.

“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.

It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.

Hopefully.

“You should take a break.”

You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.

And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?

But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.

Because you were always expected to do and be more.

“I will in a few minutes,” you said.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.

You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.

“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.

Reading the subject line, you did a double take.

CUDDLE WITH BUCKY

You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”

“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”

“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.

At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”

Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?

Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?

Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”

Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”

“What is it you always tell me about work?”

“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”

He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”

“Be present,” you finished.

No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.

“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.

“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.

“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.

He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.

Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.

It was as if all the stress faded away.

“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.

“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?

“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”

The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.

And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.

I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲?

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.4K words

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miguel unwillingly pining after reader; fantasies about you in miguel’s head; a massage (pg); a hint of jealous miguel; spanish wise—I hope I wrote everything correctly, I asked for some opinions and check ups from a spanish speaker <3 big thanks to you — after an interesting morning with miguel, you learnt a few more spanish words, not to be late, and having him in close proximity might give you a heart attack. your mind certainly wandered when you were monitoring a mission, the spider peoples’ bickering making you feel annoyed, an emotion miguel unwillingly likes the look of on you. but how does he feel when he makes his request… asking you to follow him to a door you didn’t think you’d ever pass through?

“Checking the location now.” You said through your ear piece, tapping away at the keyboard. Your back was straightened as you stayed focused. You were working with a group of spider variants, who were assigned to get rid of a misplaced “villain” as they liked to put it. It just makes their job sound much more important, resulting in then coming back with a proud sway to their hips.

“Bro, why are you breathing so hard?” Hissed one of the spider variants to another.

“I’m settling into my hero act.” His tone is full of pronounced muscle—most likely standing with his arms by his side like some macho man. He takes a deep sigh. “It can be tough being such a incredible hero.”

The others just stare, clearly used to this from him, before a screech meets everyone’s ears.

“Where is it?!” One of them exclaims, frantically looking around.

“It would’ve blended into one of the buildings’ walls.” You say, scanning the area on your computer.

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘blended in’?” A spider-man asks. “What is this monster—a chameleon?”

You’re silent for a moment. “Please tell you me reviewed the mission.”

There’s silence through the earpiece. You blink a few times, then close your eyes taking a deep breath. “Why not?”

“Look, I was going to but…Parker distracted me!”

“I distracted you?!” Parker exclaimed.

“Guys.” You try, but they either can’t hear you or are choosing not to.

“You were the one who was so eager to just defeat this villain!”

In your annoyed state, you can’t help but let your mind wander somewhere that had held your attention for majority of the day…

—this morning—

You rushed down the stairs, while simultaneously fixing your hair. Shit, you were gonna be late. All because of these extensive stairs.

When you reached the bottom, your hair had become a mess again, making you place your flat palms against your head as you tried to soothe the stray hairs.

You reach the door to your office, pausing to take a breath. Twisting the handle, you walked inside.

You instantly noticed Miguel, spider suit back on, as he swiped necessary and unnecessary screens back and forth by the large spider.

You tried to stay quiet as you walked to your desk, but your luck seems to plainly not exist as Miguel’s voice greets you—rather gruffly.

“Would it be cliché to say ‘you’re late’?”

You press your lips together as he jumps down. You seem to forget how tall he is until he’s towering over you, with a look that states ‘you should be worried’.

You gulp, before forcing a smile. Miguel’s expression stays dead as he waits for you to speak, most likely to explain yourself.

When you say nothing your mouth opening and closing like a stupid fish, Miguel speaks. “I said six.”

You nod. “I heard you.”

“Did you?” His clicks his jaw, a slight tilt to his head, as he observed your quickly fixed hair and slight heave of your chest. You clearly rushed. “You just woke up.”

“No.” You say indignantly. “I’ve been awake since six, I just didn’t like the idea of walking down those stairs, so…I began working in my room.”

“Uh huh.” He sarcastically nods. “Right.”

You press your lips together, thinking you should have stitched them shut. You weren’t helping yourself.

“You keep saying you want to prove that you belong here.” Miguel begins. He leans forward, his red eyes gleaming, his fangs becoming more visible as he snarls. “If you don’t start getting here at six, then I’ll be happy to drag you out at four.”

He leans back, stalking back towards the big spider, as he webs himself up to the top. You let out a sigh, turning to your desk and swivel chair.

;;

After an hour or so of working, and going over the mission scheduled in a few hours, you feel a breath by your neck. With wide eyes you spin around to see Miguel staring down at you.

When he meets your gaze, you’re placing your hand over your heart. “Can you not scare me like that?” You mutter out.

He leans forward…and forward… and forward, until his large hands are caging you in by resting them on the chair’s armrests. “Scare?” He almost whispers in question to himself.

You’re utterly frozen as his breath tickles your nose and cheeks, which you are sure to be an embarrassing red by now.

“O’hara?” You slowly question, it comes out quieter than you had intended.

His eyes stay focused on your own, as your pulse beats rapidly in your chest. Stop it— you want to say. But you’re not sure what ‘it’ is exactly.

“…did you need something?” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“What do you mean by scare?” He asks.

You lightly shift in your chair, unsure what to do in this situation. “Um…I just mean that you’re…you are kinda scary, O’hara.” You force a chuckle, trying to ease tension you are sure is the annoyance radiating off of him.

“Is it the fangs?” He asks, his eyes strangely showing genuine interest—or what you think to be genuine.

“Kind of?” You say more so as a question. “But also how you never, well…smile.”

“Why should I smile at people I don’t want to smile at?” He asks, his eyes finally dropping away from the entrapment of your own, but to a much worser place.

You self consciously lick your lips, feeling your nerves turning them dry. His gaze doesn’t shift from your mouth for an abnormally long time.

“O’hara.”

His brows then begin to furrow, his eyes finally leaving your lips, making you unintentionally sigh.

“Why do you refer to me by my last name?”

“What does ‘chaparrita’ mean?” You counter.

He narrows his eyes, leaning away from you and back to his full height. “You ready for your lesson?” He suddenly asks, grabbing a swivel chair and leaning back.

You stare at him for a moment. So that was what he was supposed to ask this whole time? “Okay, if you tell me—“

“No.” He says monotonously. “Ahora deja de hacer preguntas y siéntate y escucha.” (Now stop asking questions and sit and listen.)

You didn’t understand what he just said but you can understand his tone, so you readjust yourself on your chair and stay silent.

“Now…what do you say when you want help?” Miguel inquires, his tone now almost babying.

You narrow your eyes, but answer anyway. “¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?”

“Mm.” He hums, letting his gaze drop. “Bien.”

Miguel notices the slight curve of your lips at his praise. He shifts in his seat. “I hope you know what that means.”

Your small smile falls, before a fake one replaces it. “Yes, O’hara, I do know what that one means.”

“You should loose the attitude, chaparrita. Si es que quieres mi ayuda” (If you want my help, that is.) He says, running his tongue along one of his fangs.

“I understood “my help”.” You say. “And the one with the attitude here is you.”

“How so?”

You raise your brows. “Do I need to answer that? I thought you were observant?” Okay, now you were just pushing his buttons for fun. He seemed to get riled up so easily.

A scowl forms on his face. “Si no fueras tan pinche bonita, creo que me gustaría verte arañada” (If you weren’t so annoyingly pretty, I think I’d like to see you clawed up.) He mutters under his breath, his gaze slightly venomous.

“¿Cómo estás?” Miguel says. “Repeat it.”

“¿Cómo estás?” You repeat.

“That means “how are you?”. And what could you reply with?” He inquires.

“Bien.” You answer.

“Mejor.”

“‘Better’?” You say with a scoff. “I feel like I should get a bit more credit…Spanish is hard.”

“First of all—it’s not.” Miguel states. “Second…you know what ‘mejor’ means?”

“It was one of the words I learnt on my phone.” You shrug.

“Any other words I should I know about?” He sounds annoyed, and you can’t fathom why.

“You’re annoyed at that? To be honest I thought you’d be grateful.”

He doesn’t say anything. Mainly because he can’t say the first reason that popped into his head. He wanted you to learn Spanish—all of it—from him, and only him. He also can’t tell you because he doesn’t know why he feels that way. It was stupid, feeling resentful to a phone, utterly stupid, but Miguel can’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach.

—present—

“Shut up!” You exclaim, massaging your temples.

There’s finally silence on the other end.

“The invisible monster is moving your way, on the left wall. You’ll be able to spot a slight glimmering shimmer over him. If you look close enough.”

You finally see the spider variants pick up into action, spotting the monster and beginning to attack.

Miguel watched from afar, leant by the open door to the main tech room, arms crossed as he watched you lean back in annoyance. When you were mad your eyes would hood over, narrowing to show only half of your pupils.

You would aways grow hot, occasionally fanning yourself as you unbuttoned the first button of your shirt. And Miguel would always stare, his chest picking up to a quicker beat. But the scowl would be set, Miguel hating the way he reacted. He shouldn’t be reacting at all. He felt pathetic, as he tried to look away.

Every time he’d fail, his gaze only shifting further down your body. Your legs were yet again…spread. An obviously comfortable position for you, but certainly not Miguel.

He’s embarrassed to admit—not that he’s ever actually—that he’s fantasised about being close to your spread legs, his hands being able to spread them further. You were a reactive girl, very hyper aware for a human. He hoped you’d stay the same when he’d touch you.

Your chest heaving, your mouth opening, as goosebumps littered your skin. Skin he’d be able to see a lot more of.

And to all these fantasies he would hate himself, and you. Sure, he was projecting. But he’d rather project anger then any of his hidden thoughts.

“Is it my turn now?” He asks, making you spin in your chair to face the exit and Miguel.

You had finally taken out your headpiece, the mission clearly completed. The spider-men would get back soon. A look of confusion flashed across your features before realisation hits. ‘His turn’. His side of the deal.

You stand, straightening your slightly crumpled shirt—you had been fisting the material in your annoyed state. Miguel ignores the thoughts of instead a crumpled sheet. Your fists clenching around, preferably, his—no. Not preferably his. He clears his head, biting his inside cheek, the metallic taste of blood now tangible.

“Follow me.” He turns, expecting you to do so.

And you do, walking past all the different spider variants in an effort to stay at Miguel’s heels.

Through the journey up the stairs, Miguel—who doesn’t know why he’s walking with you—has been having thoughts. Very…interesting thoughts. Some seeming very similar to those of ‘finding you annoyed kinda hot’ type of thoughts. It also fell back to the thoughts swirling in his head when he was looking at your lips.

He hadn’t meant to do that, his body seeming to have had a mind of its own when he leant over, caging you in.

He’s annoyed to admit—to himself—that he had wanted to kiss you. See what it felt like. Maybe he’d hate it and his strange, annoying crush on you would go.

He’s soon stopped by his room, finally glancing at you, to see that you look confused. “I thought I was doing what you asked…or whatever.” You say, slowing your breathing.

“You are.” He opens his door, walking in.

You watch him, brows still furrowed. You stay rooted to the hallway floor. “In your room?” You look around like you’ve done something terrible, and you’re gonna get caught.

“Maybe you aren’t as committed as you claim to be.”

Your eyes narrow at his blatancy. You edge closer to his cracked open door, him now fully inside. You take a deep breath before pushing it further open, then quickly shutting it behind you.

“You know, I probably shouldn’t be in here.” You mutter, staying pressed to the door, as you took in the large looking bed, messed up from his sleep, along with a window, and plain walls. There wasn’t much character and you could tell that that was very intentional.

You then shift your gaze to Miguel who had found himself a seat, relaxing back into it as he clicked his jaw. He finally met your gaze, and in the dim-ish lighting his hair looked messier, his hand most likely having ran through it.

“So…” you drift off, not meaning to come across so awkward.

He tilted his head to the side, silently asking you to come to him, as his legs spread a fraction. You ignored the want to hitch your breath, gulping it down instead.

You stare at him, not moving.

He raised a brow. “You look worried.”

“I’m not worried…just…confused.” You again force a chuckle, a forming coping mechanism around Miguel.

“I think my direction was pretty obvious. I did say it in English.” He again made himself out to be all superior.

You sigh. “I heard you. I’m just confused as to why you asked that.”

“What—did you think I asked you in here so that you’d stay plastered to my door, chaparrita?” He asked sarcastically.

You wet your lips. “Why did you ask me in here?”

“I want a massage.” He says it just so…simply.

You blink, maybe one time too many. “What?”

“A massage, y/l/n.” He says, lowering his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Why?” You haven’t moved from the door, so, Miguel swiftly shoots a web out to attach to your shirt, yanking you forward.

You gasp, nearly tripping over your feet, as you get pulled towards him. Miguel stabilises you with a hand to your stomach, making you come to a stop in front of him. “What the hell?” You stare at him, your chest heaving in shock.

You rip the web from your shirt, quickly brushing it off. “You gave Gwen one. I heard you were good. That’s all.” Miguel says.

Your brows furrowed. “Gwen?” Then you remember. “Oh, well that’s because she just got back from a really hard mission…she was sore and I…dunno, I was bored.”

“And you don’t think I am? Sore, I mean. You do realise I take care of the multi—“

“The multiverse, yes. I haven’t forgotten. I’m just a little shocked, is all.”

“You can say no.”

You sigh. “If I want to lose my job.” You mutter, walking around him. Miguel twists his head to follow you slightly, until you stood out of his gaze, directly behind him. You pause, before gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders. Jeez, he was broad.

You closed your eyes, taking a breath. To be honest you thought his requests would be hardcore, asking you to practically run around ramped. But instead here you were alone in his room giving him a massage.

You began to add pressure. Working your fingers into the instant knots you felt.

Miguel’s eyes involuntarily rolled closed, as he accidentally leaned more into your touch. You don’t seem to notice the shift as you continue massaging by his neck and along his shoulder, veering a slightly onto the top of his back.

“I forgot to ask: where did you want the massage? I just assumed the shoulders.”

“Mm?” Miguel hums in question, sounding far away, a small heavy breath leaving his lips after.

“O’hara?” You ask, stopping your hands’ movements.

A small growl of disapproval fell from Miguel’s lips involuntarily. “Just—“ he takes a breath. “What you were doing is fine.”

You place your hands back where they were, making Miguel relax back into your fingers. You were good—Miguel thought to himself. He can’t remember the last time he released so much tension.

You lean down to Miguel’s ear, your tickling breath making him gulp. “Is there a time requirement? Because I had plans tonight.”

Miguel’s brows furrowed. “Plans? What plans?” He didn’t mean to sound so disappointed and borderline desperate, but he’s thankful you barely heard his tone as your attitude didn’t shift.

You worked your fingers closer to his chest, doing your normal routine. Your grandmother was a masseuse, and of course she had to give you some tips. It was fun being able to practice on Gwen, but with Miguel you felt nervous every time you would press down hard on a knot.

But his responses seemed to be good, considering all the quiet groans and heavy breaths.

“I made plans with spider-man—“

“That’s very descriptive.” Miguel comments, his head slightly rolling to the side.

You scoff, your fingers moving to the base of his neck, where no spider suit material could intervene. The pads of your fingers rubbing his bare skin. Miguel noticed the difference a lot quicker than you did, sounds and words of approval he really didn’t want you to hear threatening to spill.

“Dios, ¿por qué tus manos tienen que sentirse tan bien?” (God, why do your hands have to feel so good?) He muttered under his breath, not really meaning for you to catch a word, but of course you pick up ‘bien’.

“Good?” You asked. “Well, then you should put in a good word for me.” You chuckle. “Maybe I should start a small business and massage all the spider-men and woman. I think I’d do well—“

“No.” Miguel says instantly, still sounding slightly breathless. “If you want to prove yourself you can’t get distracted.” Of course that’s the reason he dislikes the idea. Definitely not because he doesn’t want your hands making others feel like this…definitely not.

“Don’t worry, it was just a hypothetical.” You say, going back to his shoulders. “Now, I hope that’s okay. Because I do need to go.” You bring your hands away, and it takes everything in Miguel not to spin around in the chair, grab your hands and ask you to massage somewhere else.

The tense knots in his shoulders were gone, his neck felt light, and he wanted to feel your fingers run along his abs. This was bad. Why was the lighting so dim, why was your scent so strong?

He spun around in his chair, meeting your gaze. “You didn’t fully answer me before. Who are meeting?”

“It was gonna be spider-man, the one with the cartoonish attitude, and now it’s just Hobie. I dunno. something about an important—“

“Hobie?” Miguel interrupts. He displayed indifference, though inside he was burning.

A weird tension began to fill the room. “Yeah, so I’ll just…go.” You say quickly passing him and opening the door, before Miguel had the (bad) mind to stop you.

You rushed out into the hallway which instantly felt lighter, letting you breathe.

You head to the main communion area, paths leading everywhere along the walls to along the roof, making it easy for a spider person to navigate but not someone who can’t stick to walls.

So you stay on the simple path, skimming through talking suited spiders until someone called your name. You spin catching sight of Peter, Mayday in his grasp.

“Hey.” You smile.

“Hey. Sorry, Hobie wanted me to tell you that he can’t catch up for that song session thing, something about getting called in for business.” Peter said, his hands going everywhere as Mayday tried to escape over the edge.

“Also picture that in an over pronounced British accent.” He gave you a thumbs up to which you chuckled.

“No worries, thanks Peter.”

“Mayday!” He suddenly yelled, to which you pointed to the left, displaying her climbing onto a spider-man’s back.

Peter rushes off. And you sigh, thinking you hurried for no reason. Though you are grateful that you could use that as an excuse to get out of Miguel’s room.

As you head to your own, you begin to wonder what this last minute mission could be about and why Hobie had been called in now. Usually the only person who calls people in, especially this last minute would be Miguel.

I guess crime never sleeps—you think to yourself—or something like that.

ahhh here’s part three!—I hope this one wasn’t too boring or not what you expected x part four is gonna be more SeXuAl, I promise

I actually don’t know how many parts I should do, coz atm it’s feeling like a slow burn, but I don’t want to drag you guys along a long ass fic so I’m not sure.

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