#i did just under two miles and came the fuck home

[fingertipsmp3]

Going for a run when I don’t want to makes me feel like the most productive person alive idk

[krosiefics]

when did you get so buff? • lee minho

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: when your best friend, Minho, arrives at your apartment drenched from the rain. What would happen if you acted on the sudden arousal of seeing the outline of his built body?

WC: 1.3k

Tags: smut, pwp, afab!reader, bsf!minho, softdom!minho, ass spanking, pet names (baby, kitten), cursing, grinding, lwk dry humping, piv, unprotected sex (plz don’t), creampie, unprepped sex, mutual pinning(?), probably forgetting something :P

a/n: this was written in like 10 mins so it’s kinda rushed lol also not proofread…this man had me in a chokehold the entire mv making video

————————————————————————

“Woah- when the fuck did you get so buff Min?” You let out a laugh of disbelief. Your best friend was on his way to your apartment when it started raining, by the time he got to your home, his jacket was soaked through, clinging to every part of his torso.

Minho looked at you and shrugged as he took off his jacket, “I dunno, I did start going to the gym with Changbin and Chan.”

“You look hot.” You said with a smirk, taking his jacket from him, leaving the room to put it in the dryer. Minho stood there with a flush on his face.

“Did she just say…I look hot?!” Minho thought to himself, his mind going a million miles an hour as his heart hammered in his chest. This wasn’t good for him, sure the two of you flirt sometimes, but he knows it’s nothing more than playful, at least on your end.

Minho placed his hand on his chest, taking deep breaths to calm his raging heart. You stroll back into the room and notice him taking deep breaths. “Hey you good?” You near him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Minho flinches slightly at your touch before melting into it.

“Yeah…I’m fine.” He gave a weak grin. “Dude, your face is super red.” You say in a worried tone, your hands cupping his red cheeks. His eyes go wide at your action, you realize and pull away, your face now heating up.

“Sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me.” You shake your head in embarrassment, you feel like your heart is about to rip through your body. “Fuck.” Minho groaned, moving to sit down on your sofa. “Don’t be sorry…it’s okay, I didn’t mind it.”

Your eyes lock with his, walking over to him almost as if you were entranced by him and he was drawing you in. You stood in front of Minho, gazing down into his pretty brown eyes, your eyes fall to the small little mole on his nose. You smile to yourself as you unconsciously trail your finger along it, down to his lips.

In an instant you’re snapped out of your daze, retracting your hand from Minho’s face. You were about to apologize before being suddenly pulled into his lap. Minho held your hips as you straddled his hips. You face heating up with each passing second. Minho leaned into, hesitantly nudging your nose with his.

Your breath hitches as his eyes shift their gaze to your lips. Unconsciously, you jolt your tongue across your lower lip, causing them to glisten. “Fuck,” you breathe out shakily, “your lips are pretty.” Before you could even process your own words, the boy in front of you pulls you in by the nape of your neck, attaching his lips to yours.

You moan into the kiss as his hands trail down towards your ass before gently squeezing at it. “Min,” you whined, a knowing feeling surged through you that you dreaded, the two of you needed to talk about what’s happening. “Shh, let’s enjoy this, then talk.” He said between kisses.

Minho’s hands made their way to the hem of your shirt, slipping them under, touching your warm skin. “Soft.” He smiled against your lips before cupping your breasts under your shirt causing you to gasp out a moan. Your hands fly to Minho’s hair as he begins peppering kisses along your neck, his hands still groping at your chest.

You roll your hips into his, Minho lets out a pleasurable sigh at the friction. His hands trail down your curves to the swell of your ass before grasping it in his palms. You groaned at the touch, both of his hands and the rolls of your hips.

Minho places a kiss on your collarbone as he lightly smacks your clothed ass. You jolt at the sudden slap but it didn’t induce too much pain.

“Min,” you sigh, fingers pulling against his hair full of need. You can feel arousal pooling, you wouldn’t be surprised if it already stained your shorts by now.

Minho sneaks his hands under the waistband of your shorts and onto your warm skin, gently pushing down your shorts while massaging the flesh there. You allow him to slip it down, shifting your legs so that you can slide the material off.

Before Minho could guide you back into his lap, you stay in your awkward lifted position, slipping out of your underwear, which you can now see has a very evident wet patch on it.

“Fuck.” Minho breathes out, his hands feeling up your curves, “You’re hot you know that?” You feel your cheeks warm at his sudden praise, shifting your head to the size so that the boy underneath you doesn’t see your blush. But of course Minho notices, he smirks pridefully to himself, tongue poking out between his teeth.

Minho brings his hand up to slap your ass again but he stops dead in his tracks as he watches intently as you work your fingers at his jeans. Minho stares at you, the way your cheeks are red, the way your hands shake slightly with excitement, the way you’re rubbing your thighs together as you finally unbutton and unzip his fly.

Minho lifts his hips, after snapping out of his daze that you put him in, allowing you to pull his pants and boxers down in one swoop. His cock freely stood against his lower abdomen, red and veiny, precum leaking at the tip, not too big but definitely above average.

Minho’s desire for you grew even more as he watched you drool over his cock, the one that you had yet to actually touch. “Come sit your pretty pussy on me, yeah kitten?” Your eyes widen at the pet name, a wave of lust rushing through your body that has your cunt clenching around nothing.

Adjusting yourself back comfortably into his lap, you take hold of his cock aligning it with your hole. You probe your throbbing cunt with the tip, an erotic mewl leaving your lips. Sounds of your mains overlapping filled the room as you finally sunk down onto his cock, fully bottoming out.

The stretch burned, it burned so much that it brought tears to your eyes, but that wasn’t about to stop you from rolling your hips down onto Minho. “Wait baby, I didn’t stretch you- just wait okay.” Minho grunts as your forehand falls against his. His hands held you still as you clenched around his cock, adjusting to his size.

“You okay now kitten?” You hastily nod, your hips twitching with neediness. Minho chuckles before guiding you off his cock before moving you back down. You both let out a groan when you start speeding up the pace of your movement.

Minho’s hands now just gripping at your waist as you bounce on his cock. The tip of his cock hits you right in your g spot causing your thighs to tremble slightly. Your orgasm grows closer and closer with each bounce.

Minho bites his lip at the sight in front of him; your lip caught between your teeth as your face scrunches up in pleasure, tits bouncing through your shirt, and your cunt taking his cock so well.

The feeling of you clenching so tightly around him drove him towards his climax.

“Fuck babe, imma cum.” Minho grunted as he bucked his hips up to meet yours. You moaned loudly at how his cock filled you deeply. Your whines begin to rise as your orgasm hits you like a truck. With the combination of you creaming all over his cock and the intense clenching of your cunt, Minho’s cock twitches as he pours his load into you with a deep groan.

“Holy shit,” You breath out shakily, “we just did that.” Minho chuckles as he lifts you enough to slip his cock out, he could feel as his cum dripped out of your cunt and onto his pelvis.

“Fuck I love you…I have for a while.” Minho pants in disbelief as he gazes into your exhausted eyes. You nuzzle your head into his neck with a smile, “I’ve loved you too Min, for a while.”

[randomgurl2326]

Adam Relationship Headcannons

SFW

You two met after the whole Lilith and Eve debacle

You were sent to be his Guardian Angel down in the Garden of Eden. Honestly, he couldn’t care less about Eve when he first saw you

He was in the middle of the garden, talking to Eve and then you show up… man’s whipped. Simp I tell you

(Actually wished that you were made to be his wife instead of the baddie Lilith or the goodie-two-shoes Eve)

Again. Whipped.

Now, tho is guy… whewww. He may seem incredibly misogynistic to practically everyone around him. But he can be a total sweetheart

He would—if you didn’t know how to already—teach you how to shred on the guitar

Speaking of guitars, that gold strat that he had during the battle in the last episode is only used during a special occasion (case and point, when you two have a date night or after sex)

He also serenades you every chance he gets

After dinner

After a meeting

After sex

After just walking the goddamn promenade

I also think he would be heavenly (ha! See what i did there? No? Okay…) in the kitchen. Especially for date night. Adam knows how to make the best prime rib in heaven

(Lute totally hasn’t tried to blackmail the recipe out of him)

Adam is also very insecure about how he looks under his mask

Especially after having two wives ditch him for Lucifer

He definitely needs to be praised on a daily basis, even if it seems like he’s an egotistical asshole

Every day you tell him how handsome he is and he doesn’t believe you (c’mon have you seen him fuckin’ hot)

You two sometimes don’t see each other days on end because you both work so much. You being a high-ranking Angel/seraphim and him being well… the first man on Earth

If you guys go especially long for not seeing each other, you guys hole up a few days in your shared home spending time with each other among other things…

By the way, you and Lute are best friends, probably more than her and Adam

Like, seriously, if you’re not with him, you’re with her. Gossiping or fucking around, it’s heaven, there’s infinite things to do

You two are also very lovey dovey with each other

One time Sera had cover Emily’s eyes with her wings because you two were making out and feeling each other up in the middle of the Heavenly Court Room

Despite all of his faults, he’s a good husband to you, a great one actually. And if you two were to ever have kids, he’d definitely be the dad who everyone loves

He would introduce them to rock, punk, metal.

Definitely plays his guitar to get them to sleep every night

NSFW

Okay… he want lying about being the Dick Master. He can pleasure women, that is not a problem for him

Also, it might not seem like it, but he loves going down on you. Probably one of his favorite pass times actually

I swear, this man could make you scream his name within minutes. No joke

Don’t get me wrong, he loves receiving head

But just not as much as he loves eating pussy (Lilith and Eve missed out on that one for sure)

He also has a bigger dick than average

Probably 6-7.5 inches in length and hella girthy. Uncircumcised (duh), and a vein that runs up the bottom of it

Definitely knows how to use it

Every one within a five mile radius of your guys’ house… let’s just say I feel really bad for them

No joke, he is insane about pleasuring you

This probably also feeds into his insecurity about you leaving him (you won’t)

He for sure has a praise kink. Seriously, tell him he’s a good boy and he’s unraveling under your touch instantly

His favorite position is cowgirl (what can he say, he loves powerful women)

But he’s down for whatever position you want; missionary, warrior, against a wall, whatever

Speaking of wall sex, Lute has definitely caught you two more than once

The first time she did was when you two were in Adam’s office while he was supposed to be planning the next extermination. She came to ask him a question about it and there you two were. Goin’ at it like rabbits on the wall next to his desk

She couldn’t look you guys in the eye for three weeks. It was terrible

Adam also doesn’t seem like the type of guy to have sex toys or feel the need to use them

But, again, he’s whipped. So he’s willing to do whatever you want to do

Wont admit this to anyone but you, but he likes to sub every once in a while. Especially with all the ‘first man’ stuff weighing down on him he needs a way to get away from all that stress

Despite him making crude jokes about sex, he’s a very giving partner in bed

He had to make sure you cum at least twice before he gets his dick wet

Also, have I mentioned how good he is at eating pussy? Oh, I have? Yeah, well, he is (especially with that tiny bit of stubble on his chin… gahhh)

Just needed to get it out there

All in all, Adam is a very giving person in bed, can be selfish at times but will make up for it. He loves you too much for you to feel mad or upset (especially with him)

A/N: this was my first time writing for Adam and Hazbin in general. I hope you liked it. I love you all💚💜

[irisintheafterglow]

the first time opla!zoro says he loves you, he's not even sober.

"just so you know, i'm never dragging your drunk ass out of a bar ever again. this is a one time thing," you huff, breathless from dragging the muscled, unofficial alcoholic half a mile down the hill toward the harbor. "and you better leave me some of those tarts from sanji as payback for lugging you home."

"you're so fuckin' pretty when you're mad," he drawls, eyelids heavy as the dirty boots on his feet. "even prettier when you're fighting in those fancy clothes we got from...where did we get 'em from?"

"that's a nami question, zoro. i have a bad memory. for instance, i don't remember why the fuck i came out here to get you in the first place," you groan, shoulders aching and legs sore from constantly steering your crewmate away from falling into the gutter. "heavens forbid one of our enemies catches you off guard; we wouldn't hear the end of it from luffy if you got your ass kicked while you were out drinking-"

"i can't wait for the street to stop spinning so i can tell you a secret," he grins stupidly and you recoil slightly, unfamiliar with the sappy expression on zoro's face. the wood of the ship's deck creaks under your feet and you pray no one wakes up to question what you're doing.

"what's the secret?"

"the secret is that i'm in love with you, but i can't tell you 'cause it's a secret," he states as matter-of-factly as a drunk could and you suddenly feel lightheaded, like you were the intoxicated one and not him. "yeah, i really am in love with you. it's kind of bad, honestly."

"and why is that?" your mind is running at two hundred miles a minute, wrought with confusion and laughing at the irony of how loose alcohol makes a guy who usually has a stick shoved as far up his ass as it could go.

"because it's a secret and i can't tell you that i'm in love with you. promise you won't tell anyone my secret?"

"i promise, zoro, but sober you and sober me are going to have a long talk in the morning," you say gently, helping him into his hammock and making sure he doesn't tumble out of it.

"am i in trouble?"

"no, but you're gonna get me in trouble." you sigh and he frowns like you'd told him someone had died.

"fuck, what'd i do?"

"you made me fall in love with you too, stupid."

"oh! well, now that's not so bad, is it? i promise i won't tell anyone. trust me, i'm great at keeping secrets."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[wandasaura]

MY FACE IN A RED FLUSH

summary — your first mistake was thinking natasha wouldn’t use the time away to tease you, your second mistake was thinking you could handle it

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, smut, sexting, phone sex, teasing, fingering, nipple stimulation, degradation, praise, daddy kink, dom/sub relationship, bathroom encounter (nothing like… bad bad), begging, threats of punishment, wanda slaps r’s ass ;), the idiots banter but what’s new

authors note — i got carried away with this but hey, we got some development between wanda and r going on at least, also some insight to wandanats relationship and their dynamic + how the contract came about

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha was going to be gone on business for two full weeks. You’d expected the hardest part of that fact to be how you were sure to miss her, but you were severely mistaken. When day ten came around, and she still wasn’t home, you weren’t at all surprised to find that the several notifications waiting for your attention were all from her. She’d been doing her best to keep you informed in regards to her plans and meetings, and for the most part, she’d been behaving herself well, but the first glance at her messages had effortlessly set your mood for the remainder of the day. 

Natasha | Daddy misses you, angel. 

Natasha | I bet that sweet pussy misses me too. 

Natasha | image attached 

You couldn’t help but audibly groan when you opened your iMessages. It was instinctual, you never wanted to leave her messages unanswered, but you regretted your urgency to appease her the second you came face to face with her visibly damp panties and toned thighs that had acquired quite the tan since shipping off to the tropical island just over a week and a bit ago. The deep red material that you were all too familiar with was an even deeper shade of maroon now, so damp that it molded to the shape of her labia, and the bulge of her clitoris was captivating. A throb shot through your own core as you fantasized about taking care of her little situation with your mouth, tonguing at her panties until she got so annoyed with your teasing that she tore them in two and forced your head in close, but she was a thousand miles away, and you were under strict instructions not to touch yourself without her permission. 

For a second, you questioned if Wanda had received the same image. If she had, which you were absolutely certain she did, you knew that the lawyer was rightfully hot and bothered, but you doubted she had the same rules as you. Wanda did not seem the type to submit, even if it meant appeasing her wife. After all, there would be no need for you in their relationship if she allowed Natasha to take the reins every once in a while, and you found yourself envious of the woman who could relieve herself at any chance. 

You whined at the deep ache in your core, your panties positively ruined beyond a point of salvation when another image rolled through, though this time, she’d taken away your privilege of seeing her well defined lips and clit, however, she’d replaced what you’d lost with the sight of her hand buried in the material. It was her left hand, and the diamond on the center of her engagement ring pressed against the tight materials of her panties. You’d always found it exceptionally hot to be fucking a married woman with consent from her partner, but something about seeing her touch herself with the very hand that Wanda had kissed with adoration in front of all of their family and friends was truly vulgar. She wasn’t playing fair at all, but you suspected she had never intended to make this easy for you. 

You | Daddy

It was a simple response, one that in no way encapsulated the millions of scenarios running through your head, but you had no other words to share with her. Not when you’d only just woken up and your sole interest was devouring her. You’d never been particularly good at communication, especially not when it came to sexual circumstances, but god did Natasha love to make you work for it. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise to you that she would pull a stunt like this, but you supposed your naivety was what captivated her so ferociously. 

Natasha | Yes, angel? See something you like?

You | You. 

You | Daddy, please. 

Natasha | Please, what? Don’t you have a class to get to, I wouldn’t want to make you late. Get ready for school, moya lyubov. 

Natasha | image attached

She was really playing dirty now. The unspoken promise that you wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself felt like pure torture, but that had only worsened the blow for when the next picture rolled in seconds later. You’d half expected it to follow the saga of the others; some kind of display in regards to her dripping core and drenched panties. Would she pull them off to the side and bury two or maybe even three fingers into her pleading hole? Or perhaps she would take them off completely and give you an unconstructed glimpse of her cunt. You had been good afterall, Wanda hadn’t relayed any instances of bratty behavior to your knowledge, so she had every reason to reward you. Clearly she was not feeling generous, because the picture you were confronted with at seven o’six in the morning was of her naked chest, and just slightly off-screen you could make out the straps of her favorite lacy red bra. Her nipples were pebbled, undoubtable from the combination of her arousal and the broken thermostat in her suite, and they were a color that attempted to resemble a pinky-mauve. Her manicured fingers pinched at the left bud, but her right remained untouched and begging for the same attention. Her back was arched, leaning into the pain, and while you couldn’t see her shoulders, you could image the tanlines that graced her unblemished skin. 

You | You’re not playing fair, Daddy

Natasha | I don’t have to play fair, malyshka. I suggest you start getting ready for class, and I would think twice about trying to touch yourself before I give you permission. 

Your lips, already in a pout, had seemed to turn even more downward at her blatant disregard for your sanity. You’d just barely survived nine days without her touch and now, on the tenth, she decided to make that worse by teasing you? Even if she did decide to give you permission, nobody, including you, could make you cum the way she did. It would be foolish to even try and compete with her skills. 

You | I can always skip 

Natasha | I find out you skipped and you won’t be cumming until summer break 

Your heart plummeted faster than a free falling elevator at the implication of spending the next four and a half weeks without an orgasm, especially because you knew that just because she wouldn’t push you over the edge, didn’t mean she wouldn’t tease you and work you up to that point. She would make your life an absolute living hell if you gave her the chance, and that was not a fire you wanted to play with, not now and not ever. 

You | I’m going! 

Natasha | That’s what I thought. Good girl. 

Begrudgingly you pulled yourself out of bed and shuffled over to your duffle bag of clothes in the corner of the room. Ever since the night of the sixth day, when you’d crashed into Wanda’s arms and ratted out your professor, you’d been sleeping at the Maximoff residence. The Sokovian lawyer didn’t seem to be minding your presence, or at least, she hadn’t told you that she minded, but you still tried your best to tiptoe around her. She was always up before you, always in the kitchen when you ventured down the stairs in an outfit that was progressively getting shorter and shorter as the weather warmed. She had breakfast waiting for you most days, and if she didn’t, there was a note on the countertops that said she was already at the office and hadn’t wanted you to eat cold food. She didn’t need to know that on those days, you didn’t have any breakfast at all. On the morning of the eighth, she learned that you hate oatmeal. You’d tried your best to eat it all, or at least an amount that would appease her, but after you gagged for the third time, she pulled the bowl away from your face and scolded you for not saying something the second she put it down in front of you. It was weird. Neither one of you really sought the other out, but when you did cross paths, the atmosphere wasn’t as cold and dark. 

It wasn’t as warm as it had been in recent days, so you took full advantage of the wind and the gloomy skies to wiggle your body into a pair of black leggings and one of Natasha’s hoodies that had been left laying around. You adored the start of spring and the mid-summer warmth, but you detested the fact that when those days came, you wouldn’t get to wear the womens clothes as frequently. You supposed you could always steal some of her t-shirts, but there hadn’t been much opportunity to do so yet. 

Wanda was in the kitchen that morning, much to your delight. She wasn’t Natasha, you don’t know if she’ll ever mean as much to you as Natasha does, but you liked the simple fact that the house felt lived in when she was around. Her presence served as a distraction from the icky wetness collecting in your panties, and yes, you had changed them only minutes ago, but nothing could stop the floodgates until Natasha allowed you even the slightest fraction of relief.  

“Your wife is mean.” You didn’t bother with pleasantries, didn’t even bother to look her in the eye as you walked your way to her fridge and pulled out the pitcher of orange juice. It had become sort of a routine. Wanda made breakfast for the both of you and you got the drinks. You liked having little responsibilities, because even if you knew that you were more than welcome here, you felt the need to earn your keep. 

“My wife, huh? Thought she was your Daddy.” Wanda snorted, but the clench in her jaw was enough of an indication that she had received the same messages and wasn’t completely lost on the reason why you were pawning Natasha off so easily. You were annoyed to find that she was handling the teasing better than you. You were absolutely certain that your entire body was as jagged as a sharp rock, and petulantly, you hoped that Natasha stubbed her toe on the way to her next meeting. 

“Nope. You can have her. She’s being a tease.” You huffed, bracing your hands on the edge of the counter before you scooted back into a comfortable position against the floating cabinets. Well, as comfortably as possible with the ache between your thighs that you were trying your absolute hardest not to mess with, even though it would be so easy to cross your legs and hope to god that it did something to relieve you. Wanda seemed to appreciate your restraint, because she sent you a soft smile in return and didn’t say anything about you sitting on her counters. 

“Oh, I know.” Wanda puffed out a breath of air, the first indication that maybe she wasn’t handling the situation well, just better at hiding her frustration. “Little brat doesn’t know what to do with herself when she’s away for so long.” 

You’d never heard Natasha be called anything of the sort, and the admission of her role in the bedroom had brought back your curiosity. Deciding that you couldn’t possibly get in trouble for being curious, you kicked your feet against the cabinets beneath your dangling legs and looked over at Wanda. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“If you stop kicking my cabinets.” The lawyer looked at you in exasperation, entirely unimpressed with your fidgeting, though she wasn’t angry. You were thankful for that, because the combination of academic stress and sexual teasing had you restless in all fronts. 

“Do you let Natty top you?” You smiled shyly once the words had passed your lips, hoping that it would soften the blow once Wanda processed your question. You weren’t sure if you had a close enough relationship with her to be asking such a thing, but over the last few weeks, you’d really started to wonder how they’d even come to the consensus of opening their relationship to a third party. 

Wanda looked at you incredulously, but she shook her head anyway. “No. Why the question? You’re usually running in the opposite direction anytime we ask you something sexual.” 

As if your body was trying to prove a point, your cheeks flushed scarlet and you dropped your gaze down to your lap, eliciting a chuckle out of Wanda. “I dunno. You don’t seem the type to submit, and Natty is being a brat. Guess I was just wondering about the contract. How you came up with it and all.” 

“Have you talked to Nat about this? Seems you’ve got a lot on your mind.” Wanda hummed, her attention focused on the eggs she was scrambling, though you knew the real reason she was so focused was because she didn’t want to overwhelm you when you had finally gotten the courage to speak to her about this type of thing. She wasn’t wrong. Any other time she’d ever mentioned your sexual relationship with her wife you ran in the other direction, or you retorted with something rude just to get her off your back. She wasn’t as blind to that last detail as you thought she was. 

“Not a lot.” You protested immediately, not wanting it to come across like you were rethinking this situation. “Her ring was… very visible in the second picture she sent. You’re married. Very happily from what I’ve seen. If anyone else that I know were in this situation, they’d think I was a homewrecker or something.” 

“Is that how you feel?” Wanda frowned, her attention still on the eggs she was scrambling, but she was quickly running out of alternatives to focus on as they reached they perfect consistency. 

“No! Nat’s too in love with you to ever do something that would upset you. If you weren’t okay with her… using me… then she would’ve ended things already.” 

“Honey, we both know Natasha is not using you. That woman is just as devoted to you as she is to me, but you’re right, she wouldn’t jeopardize our marriage. The contract was my idea. You were my idea. Natasha would be more than happy to submit to me for the rest of our lives if I wasn’t okay with this, but I know that she needs the control as much as I do. We make sacrifices for our partners every day. A marriage is not a one way street.” Wanda smiled softly, nudging your thigh when she realized you were sitting right in front of the cabinet she kept the plates on. 

“Why are you okay with me then?” You frowned, having even more questions now then you originally did. Wanda had said that Natasha was devoted to you in the same way she is with Wanda. Does that mean she feels the same as you do? Are your feelings not as unrequited as you’d been forcing yourself to believe? 

“You make her happy.” There was something more on the tip of her tongue, something heavy and potentially earth-shattering, but you didn’t press her to share. She was already sharing more than enough with you, and you appreciated her honesty even if it was filtered. “Anymore questions from the peanut gallery, or can we eat our breakfast before you’re late to class?” 

“No more questions.” You hopped off the counter, grinning cheekily when you saw Wanda wince out of your peripheral vision. “Would you tell her if I skipped class?” 

“Are you sick?” Wanda quirked a single eyebrow in your direction, her hands full of plates as she carried eggs and pancakes toward the dining room table. You grabbed the pitcher of juice and two glasses, following her like a lost duckling despite knowing your way around. 

“Does horny count as sick?” You asked, only receiving a huff of laughter and a firm shake of the head as a response. 

-

If you thought your morning had been difficult to handle, your afternoon was even worse. You shifted uncomfortably at your desk, trying to get your cold and sticky panties away from your sensitive core, while simultaneously listening to your professor drone on and on about sentence translations and truth tables. Everytime you moved, you achieved the exact opposite of what you wanted. Your panties were so wet they clung to your pussy, and with each shift of hips and press of your thighs, a pulse of pleasure shot up through your belly and only worsened your situation. 

Typically, you sat in the very front row in all of your lectures. You were what others would call a teacher's pet, always raising your hand and answering questions, always assuring that you understood the objectives of an assignment, but today, you had chosen a desk in the back row closest to the wall. Your laptop was turned away from the student on your right, and although your notes were opened, and words had been added to the document that you’d started at the beginning of the semester, your iMessages were open just beside it. 

Natasha | Daddy wants your mouth, princess. You’d be good and give me your mouth wouldn’t you? I know how much you love to be on your knees for me 

Natasha | video attached 

You knew you shouldn’t open it, not when it was so clearly a video of her masturbating if the preview shot was any indication of its content. You knew you should just turn all of your devices on Do Not Disturb and focus on the professor, who was going over questions about the latest chapter assigned as homework, but all logical thoughts, ironic because you were currently in your advanced logics lecture, had completely fallen away from you. It had been eleven hours of teasing. Eleven hours of wet panties and sensitive nipples and Natasha’s pussy in your face but not actually. It had been eleven full hours of pure torture, and you were at your breaking point.

You closed your laptop softly, making the humbling decision to shuffle past all the other students in your row to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You’re sure it looked like you were having some kind of female emergency with how fast you were moving, but in a way, you were. Only, it wasn’t a result of a miscalculated period, but rather an evil dominant who had worked you up so horridly that you were willing to sacrifice your academics just to beg her for release. 

The private bathroom was located in the basement, you had to shuffle down three flights of stairs just to reach it, but you would die before you got caught sexting in the bathroom on the same floor as your lecture, so you hurried down to the basement and hoped that it was free. At least some higher power was looking out for you, because you found that the light was off and when you knocked on the door, nobody had answered. You squirmed your way inside, locking the door before you pulled open your messages and played the video. 

It was short, only ten seconds, but in that ten seconds you had seen the beginning of a beautiful orgasm. Natasha’s fingers hammered into her pussy, the palm of her hand making contact with her clit every time she pushed three of her fingers back into herself. Her arousal coated the digits in thick strings, and when she’d cum, when she pushed herself over the edge, you groaned aloud at not only the moan that tumbled past her lips, but the sight of her orgasm spilling around her fingers. You had seen Natasha squirt on a handful of occasions. Usually it happened when she had you eating her out time and time again. You wondered how long she’d been laid in bed for to have reached such a high, and briefly you wondered if Wanda had anything to do with it. There was not a doubt in your mind that Wanda was just as much a tease as Natasha, and the prospect of the most powerful women you know going back and forth so desperately caused another violent pang of pleasure to shoot through your core. 

You pushed your pants down, letting them scrunch together at your ankles, not caring about how they brushed against the bathroom floor. You were too desperate to mind the germs, but they would be going in the garbage the second you got back to the Maximoff residence. For now, they’d just have to be fine. 

You widened your stance just enough to get your camera between your thighs. The baby blue panties that you wore were absolutely drenched, beyond the state of Natasha’s if that were even possible. Every inch of your intimacy was a visible outline from how they pressed against you, and while you should’ve been embarrassed, you hadn’t even been touched and you were the wettest you’ve probably ever been, you didn’t care. 

You | image attached 

You | Look what you did, Daddy. 

Natasha | Oh, I bet that feels so icky, baby 

You | Please let me touch myself 

Natasha | My dirty little slut wants to touch herself in a public bathroom? She can’t even wait until she gets home? 

You | I’ve been waiting all day! Please Daddy, it aches! 

You | image attached 

You should’ve felt shame. You should’ve been disgusted with your desperation, but there wasn’t even an ounce of care left in you as you pulled your panties to the side. Two of your fingers swept through your folds, collecting arousal on the tips of your fingers. They glistened in the light, and much like Natasha’s arousal had done in the video she sent, strings of your need attached your dripping cunt to your digits. You hadn’t touched yourself, not technically at least. Your clit throbbed in protest when you narrowly avoided it, and it took all of your self restraint not to throw caution to the wind and give yourself the slightest bit of relief. You would much rather appease Natasha though, and so you hadn’t even made the briefest moment of contact. 

Natasha | Oh that does look like quite the sticky situation, baby. Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy and suck those fingers clean 

You moaned at her words, even if they were just white letters on your phone screen. You could practically hear her voice in your head, requesting you to taste yourself for her, asking you to be good. You complied without hesitance, bringing your fingers up to your mouth, your tongue out and waiting for the treat even if you would much rather it be her you're tasting. Before you let them lay heavy on your tongue, you took a picture and sent it to her, because if you were going to be vulgar in your college bathroom, it needed to be for something. You tasted how you always do, but you forced yourself to imagine it was her lips you were tasting and not your own fingers. She loved making out after she had gone down on you, and secretly, so did you. 

Natasha | Good girl. 

Natasha | Those fingers all nice and clean? 

You | Yes, Daddy

Natasha | Good. Pull your panties back up and wash your hands, baby. You’ve still got thirty minutes left of class. 

Your jaw practically hit the floor at her response, and you whined in defeat, not wanting to listen to her. You’d been so good for her all day and she was still making you wait? What could she possibly do from across the ocean anyways? Briefly, you’d forgotten about her promise of withholding orgasms until summer break, but when that threat came back to mind, you quickly did as asked, hating that now you were even more uncomfortable. This was supposed to help, not make everything worse. 

You | I want to play, Daddy!

Natasha | You’ve been good all day baby, don’t ruin it now. Panties up, hands washed. I want you back in class in the next three minutes if I’m even going to consider letting you edge yourself tonight 

Natasha | Or maybe you would like a ruined orgasm more

You | No! Please no Daddy! 

Natasha | Then you’ll go back to class and you won’t sneak away again. 

- 

The forty minute drive back to Westview felt like hours. By the time that you eventually pulled into the driveway and parked behind Natasha’s car, the days sunlight only lingering behind storm clouds now, your leggings were damp and clinging to your core just as uncomfortably as your panties had been for the last few hours. You were absolutely certain that if there weren’t two material barriers between your legs, that your car seats would be stained with evidence of your arousal. You’d have had a hard time explaining that the next time you got the vehicle detailed, but if that had been the case, you would’ve just burnt the entire car to avoid the looks of judgment you were sure to have received. 

The front door was unlocked when you entered, an indication that Wanda had only arrived home a couple minutes before you had. Ever since your appearance on the fifth day of Natasha’s absence, she’d started leaving the door unlocked for you, not wanting another repeat of you stuck outside. You knew it made her feel vulnerable, and at one point you had tried to tell that while you appreciated the thought, she could continue to lock the door after she got in. Wanda didn’t budge on the matter, not that you were surprised, and so you just had to accept the fact that the front door would remain open for anyone to pass through until you got inside to lock the house up tight. It amazed you how Natasha’s presence could mean so much. The woman could hold her own in a fight, you didn’t doubt that, but you hadn’t realized just how much Wanda put her safety into her hands. It only further solidified the already known fact that they were perfect for each other. 

Wanda was in the kitchen, already working on dinner, when you dropped your backpack on the floor and inched your way closer to her. The desperate ache between your legs was unbearable now, and every step reminded you of your unfulfilled desire. Wanda looked perfectly put together as she stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot that you hoped was sauce for her spaghetti. Even though you couldn’t see her face from where she was standing, it was clear in her posture that she was fairing well with Natasha’s teasing. You wondered if she had taken her pleasure into her own hands at some point during the day, or if she was once again just better than you at concealing her true feelings. 

“I take it back.” You muttered weakly, stealing the glass of water that the redhead had been just about to reach for. It was cold, probably fresh from the filter in the fridge, and you gulped it down greedily. “Your wife is the scary one.” 

Wanda laughed although you found nothing funny about this situation. “What did she threaten you with?” 

“Which time!” You threw your hands out in exasperation, careful to keep hold of the now empty glass so it didn’t smash into a million tiny shards on the floor if you were to lose your grip on it. “Because at first it was no orgasms until summer break! Then it was edging! And then it was ruined orgasms! I did exactly what she asked, and she’s still being all scary and mean! She sent me a video of her cumming while I was in class!”

“Did she now?” Wanda quirked a single brow in your direction, and you knew that you had gotten your dominant in trouble simply from the way her jaw clenched at the relay of information. In the months that you’ve been in this situation with Natasha, you learned that Wanda was serious about education, a real stickler even. She always droned on and on about the importance of paying attention and taking adequate notes, you should’ve known that she wouldn’t appreciate knowing her wife had distracted you with a video of her pleasure. 

“Um, no?” You tried to backtrack, tried to save Natasha’s ass even though she had done nothing in your favor since you’d woken up that morning. Your cheeks flushed as you avoided her eye, suddenly finding the floor much more interesting than her stare. 

“Wanna try that again?” Wanda hummed, but you knew it wasn’t really a choice. You’re pretty sure that you audibly gulped as you contemplated your options, ultimately deciding that if anybody's ass had to be on the line, you would rather it be Natashas. 

“She did.” You whispered. “But she made me go back to class! That’s when she threatened to make me edge myself or ruin my orgasm.” You added, your cheeks burning a fierce shade of red as you avoided Wanda’s eye. Both women found it cute how flushed you still got whenever anything even remotely kinky was discussed. Despite her annoyance, this moment was no exception.

Wanda hummed thoughtfully, nodding her head as if Natasha’s threat satisfied her. “Good. You shouldn’t have left class at all. I’d be making you spank yourself.”

“I– Do you– Do you make Natasha spank herself?” You spluttered over your words, hardly even able to imagine the redhead on the receiving end of a spanking.  

“No. Your Daddy enjoys that far too much.” Wanda laughed, almost as if she found your curiosity insulting to Natasha. You knew she had a pain kink, that was very much obvious when she asked you to pinch her nipples harder on the rare occasion that she made you ride her strap, but you couldn’t imagine enjoying a spanking that was intended to be a punishment. “You on the other hand, start running away from her hand by the fifth spank. You wouldn’t last three if I told you to do it yourself.” 

Despite your mortification at Wanda’s admission, a pang of arousal shot through your core at the thought of receiving a spanking, especially from her. You were quick to scrub that fantasy from your brain, not even wanting to entertain it. Even if you had moved past your hatred for her, you refused to admit that she was slowly growing on you. That was just too much to accept right now. 

“Stop!” You whined, hunching over the counter and attempting to hide your face against the cold counter. Your cheeks had had a permanent flush to them all day, no thanks to Natasha, but you were certain that they were fire engine red now. Even the tips of your ears carried a warmth that wouldn’t vanish until you found some relief, but Natasha had been radio silent since sending you back to class, and you almost wondered if she would even reappear again before she turned in for the night. You would kill her if she left you high and dry like this. 

A shriek of surprise left your lips at the sharp sensation that spread through your left ass cheek when Wanda’s palm collided with it over the thin fabric of your leggings. You’d only barely managed to contain your moan, but there’s no way she’d missed the way your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Your back straightened instinctively and your head whipped around to find her, only to groan at the smirk of satisfaction on her lips at the sight of you. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, your eyes were dilated and almost entirely black, and your thighs, oh your thighs were the most telling. You pinched them together desperately, attempting to find any semblance of release. 

“What was that for?” You whined, your hand shooting back to rub at the spot that was beginning to ache. You wouldn’t be surprised if her handprint lingered on your skin well into the early hours of tomorrow morning. Your voice is painfully high pitched and needy despite your best efforts to keep your composure, and it merely makes Wanda laugh about the effect a simple spank has on you. 

“Who said I needed a reason?” Wanda shrugged her shoulders, but there was something wicked in her eyes. “You’ve had plenty of questions for me today, who says I don’t have my own?” 

“You could’ve just asked!” You stomped your foot, officially at your breaking point with their combined teasing. Your eyes glimmered with unbridled tears, and your core throbbed needily, but neither of them seemed too concerned with your desperation, not enough to stop at least. “I’m going to change.” You pouted, stomping past Wanda, abandoning your backpack to be dealt with later. 

-

Hours later, you found yourself laid in bed, your eyes wide in disbelief as you laid on your back and tried your hardest to keep your hands still at your sides. You and Wanda had eaten dinner in near silence, but the spaghetti was good, and you’d helped with the dishes afterward. Neither of you were feeling rather talkative, and that could be chalked up with the fact that Natasha had started her shit again. She poked at Wanda first, and you were thankful for the break of being her center of attention. The lawyer's phone had buzzed from where it was kept in her backpocket during meals if she was wearing jeans. Both of you knew who it was, and Wanda had reached for her phone without a moment of hesitation. It seemed that the both of you were properly whipped for the Russian, because had that text been from anyone else Wanda would’ve ignored it until dinner was over and conversations were finished. It had taken her only a matter of seconds to get into her phone, and you knew it must’ve been sexual based on the way her cheeks flushed and she furiously typed back a response. You were curious about what Natasha had sent her, curious about if you were receiving the same messages throughout the day, but you didn’t have to wait for much longer because your phone pinged next, and Wanda shot you a low warning beneath her breath. 

That had been two hours ago, and since then, Natasha had disappeared, leaving you with only strict orders not to touch yourself and the lingering promise of getting your reward soon. You were naked in the guest bed, dripping onto the sheets beneath your body, writhing in anticipation. The house had been silent since both you and Wanda finished dinner, but now the house was filled with her moans. Her moans. Wanda's moans. You’ve seen her and Natasha makeout before. You’ve heard her shakily exhale, groan aloud, you’ve even heard her curse out profanities in Russian when Natasha did something particularly seductive, but you’ve never heard her moan. That felt too intimate, too wrong, but now that you were hearing them you couldn’t deny how sweet they sounded. Was she fingering herself? Was she using a vibrator or fucking a dildo so deep into her pussy that she could feel every groove and crevice against her walls? Were the sheets wet with arousal beneath her body like they were yours, or could she somehow manage to avoid leaking like a waterfall at just a whisper of praise from Natasha? The list of endless possibilities that could be occurring in the room next to yours were driving you mad, and the longer you were forced to listen to her chase her release, only amplified the cravings for your own pleasure. 

You blindly reached out for your phone, squinting when it initially blinded you before your eyes adjusted to the light. You opened Natasha’s contact quickly,ready to plead and beg and cry for her to give in. 

You | I can hear Wanda 

You | Please Daddy, can I touch myself? I’ve been so good, please 

Natasha | Aw, is hearing Wanda moan turning you on, princess? 

You | Yes! Please Daddy! I want to cum, please! 

You almost sobbed in relief when your screen flashed with Natasha’s contact picture, and you didn’t hesitate to raise the phone to your ear after you had swiped to accept the call. Her gravely voice was soft, too soft, soft enough to suggest that she knew damn well how frustrated and desperate you were for her, and that she was simultaneously aware of how it was all her fault. You thought for a second that she felt bad for being so cruel, but there was a lingering trace of smugness in her voice that completely went against your first assumption. 

“Hi, baby.” She greeted you sweetly. You noticed that the wind was blowing past her as she spoke to you. You wondered if she was on the beach, surrounded by strangers and business partners, or if she was simply out on the balcony attached to her suite. Wherever she was, you wished that you were with her. 

“Daddy!” You sobbed, both because you had missed her voice in the last three days, and because knowing you finally had her undivided attention had worsened the moisture collecting between your legs. “Please Daddy!” 

“What do you want, baby? Use your words for Daddy.” Natasha cooed, and you fisted the sheets at your sides in frustration, writhing on the bed. 

The words tumbled past your lips without care for how you sounded. You knew Wanda could hear you from the master bedroom, but you had not a single care for your dignity as you pleaded with your dominant to let you cum. “Please! Please can I touch myself! Please!” 

“You wanna touch yourself, dorogay?” Natasha hummed, and although she couldn’t see you, you violently nodded your head in affirmation. Your babbled pleads were enough of an answer, because seconds later she was directing you to pinch your nipples for her. Despite not being the stimulation you desperately needed, you would take it, and you rolled your pebbled buds between your pointer finger and thumb needily. “Good girl, milaya. You sound so pretty for Daddy. I bet that sweet pussy is just begging for attention, isn’t it? Are you all wet, precious?” 

“Yes! Yes! Daddy please! I’m so wet! I can’t– I need– Daddy please don’t tease! Don’t tease!” You sobbed out, your back arching off the bed as you continued to alternate between your nipples and pinch and twist them at the pace you know Natasha would’ve set if she was here to do it herself. 

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. Daddy teased you all day, didn’t she?” Natasha’s voice was thick with faux pity, and her tone only worked against you as you clambered to draw in a decent breath of air whilst also focusing on her instructions. 

“Yes! Yes! Please! Please! Daddy, I can’t–, I can’t–, please!” 

“Okay baby, okay. You’re being such a good girl for me, detka. Touch your pussy baby. Not your clit, not yet. Just use your fingers, how many do you want, sweet girl? Do you want two? Two fingers in that pretty pussy?” Natasha gently guided you through the motions, and you cried out in relief when you felt the stretch of your fingers. Your pussy was gushing, crying for attention, but finally you were allowed to grant the wish it had been begging for all day. There was no slowing your pace. The second your fingers had dipped between your thighs, your pace was punishing, and though you still held the phone up to your ear with the hand that wasn’t between your legs, you were sure Natasha could hear the wet sounds that filled the air around you. “Does that feel good, baby? Use your words and tell Daddy how it feels.” 

“G-Good.” You cried out, but even with your fingers working the soft spot within your walls, it wasn’t enough. Your release was just out of reach and the only thing that could send you over the edge was her explicit permission to touch your clit, to finally give the pulsating nerve some love and attention. “D-Daddy please! My clit! M-My clit! Please please please!” Your mindless babbling seemed to have broken her tough reserve, and gently Natasha cooed her approval. 

“Touch your clit for me, baby. You don’t have to ask, you just cum when you want to. You were such a good girl today. Daddy didn’t think you could make it all day, you made me so proud, angel. So so proud. Make yourself cum, cum on your fingers for Daddy.” Natasha didn’t need to see your face to know that you were growing closer and closer to the edge, she could hear it in your moans as they spilled from your lips and down the phone line. “Yeah? You’re getting so close aren’t you, getting so close for Daddy. Cum for me, milaya. Cum for Daddy.” 

“Fuck fuck fuck! Daddy!” You cried, your back arching off the bed as you finally let the coil snap in your belly. Wanda’s moans of pleasure had increased within the same second, and your cheeks flushed realizing that Natasha’s plan all along had been to get the two of you to orgasm in tandem. “Thank you.” You croaked when you finally came down from you high, your body positively spent and your throat sore. 

“You did so good for me, malyshka.” You can hear the smile in her tone, and you melt into the blankets and sheets beneath you as you accept the weight of her words. “You sleepy, baby? You’ve had a long day.” 

“Yeah.” You whispered, hating the fact that you wouldn’t last another handful of minutes before you fell asleep on her. “Go get cleaned up, please. Daddy will be home soon, I can’t wait to see my good girl.” 

“I miss you.” You sighed softly, already starting to pull your body out of bed. You didn’t want to move, but you’d been so good all day, you wanted to make her proud down to the very last second. 

“I miss you too, angel. Wanda’s told me how good you’re being. Daddy has a surprise for you when she gets home.” Natasha promises, and had you been any more awake then you are now, you would’ve begged her to know what she had, but you merely hummed and went through the motions of brushing your teeth, going to the bathroom, and cleaning up your thighs. 

The sheets were the least of your concern, and you collapsed into the center of the bed, not even bothering with clothes as you snuggled into the blankets and let your eyes flutter closed, falling asleep in seconds with Natasha still on the line.

[mcu-coworkers]

Enough for you

Summary: You realized that maybe Miguel isn't who you thought he was.

Word count:1k+

warnings: Sad reader, Sad Miguel:(

Tag list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld  @munixumai  @deputy-videogamer  @blueberry-thrawn  @neteyamsluvts  @um-well @stinygirl009​  @marcswife21 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum​  @juleshadalittlelamb​  @taygrls​  @tanchosanke​  @chuckle-nuts​

A/n: Hello everyone and welcome to part two of “you?” I will most positively be making a part three coming very soon! Thank you all for reading! (I listened to the sour album while writing this series rough drafts)

Parts: One  Two^ Three Four

Credits to the creator^

That night you cried yourself to sleep.

Partially because Miguel completely shot you down and partially because you left your friends and suit forever.

You couldn't bear to bring back the suit or go back to HQ knowing what you knew.

You could never face Miguel or any spider again.

You wanted to so desperately let it all go and forget.

But above all else there was a city that needed you and you’d always be there for them no matter what heartbreak comes your way.

In this moment, you wished you were as heartless as miguel.

Back at HQ Miguel was looking through endless security footage on all possible earths miles could have been on.

Truth was he needed a second pair of eyes.

“Lyla.” he barked out.

“Yes, boss.” she responded, appearing on his shoulder.

“Call y/n.” he said, pausing the footage to rub his eyes.

He could take advantage of this time to apologize.

“No can do.” she replied being short with him. To be fully honest Lyla had also had enough of his shit.

“What? Lyla it wasn't a question go get me Y/n. Now.” he said, not having the energy to deal with her jokes.

“No. Miguel, you don’t-” she tried again but he cut her off.

“Fine.  I  ‘ll go get her my fucking self.” he said swinging towards the door.

“She's gone, Miguel. And it's all your fault.” Lyla said behind him.

He froze,“What?” finding your watch and your suit he stopped thinking.

“She quit. Not just the spider society, she quit being a spider entirely. Because of what you said.” Lyla finished.

“ I   didnt-  I   didnt mean it..” he said, clutching your suit in his hand.

“Well you said it anyway and it hurt her.” She responded, “And if  I   were her  I‘d probably never come back too, she deserved better Miguel. Why did you lie?” she asked confused as to why he denied himself the chance of love.

“ I   was angry  I   wasn’t thinking straight.  I  didn’t mean it.” he said barely above a whisper.

“Yeah well you sold it as far as keeping up an act goes.” she said, sighing.

Miguel could always fix his mistakes. This would be a first.

Sighing he stood straight and turned back to his desk.

Miguel had a decision to make, you or the fate of the multiverse.

It's like he said, there's no room for that kind of stuff for guys like him.

Once again he was right.

“Get Ben and Jess in here and have them start with earth 42.” he said, sounding more defeated than ever.

Still, he was clutching your suit as if you were still in it. Your scent lingering.

“Yes, boss.” was all Lyla could muster up at the moment.

Her artificial heart was breaking for the both of you. He was so close to telling you she could feel it.

It just wasn't his strongest moment.

Neither was this one as he took out his anger on the poor monitor that happened to be in his way.

Back at home you laid in bed trying to find the motivation to get back up but the truth was you didn't want to.

Everytime you tried to create a new suit you just heard Miguel's abusive words like it was the first time all over again.

And it just made you want to hide under the blankets forever.

Your spidey senses went off and then there came the portal.

You knew it wasn't Miguel, he could never.

“Hey webby? You alright in there?” you heard.

Peter.

Taking the covers off you came face to face with an exhausted Peter and a sleeping May Day.

“Heard what happened at HQ  just wanted to check in if that's okay.” he added wondering if he could take a step closer.

“ I   really screwed it up this time pete.” you said wiping the tears away for the millionth time.

God you felt pathetic.

“No way kid, that was all him. You know that right.” he said sitting next to you.

“ I   should’ve been there. But even if  I   was, I don't know if  I‘d be on his side. Miles is just a kid, We’ve all been there right?” you asked. Thinking this way makes you feel guilty.

You should stand behind Miguel at all times.

But now what did it matter you’d never step foot in HQ ever again anyways.

“You're allowed to think whatever you want. He can't take that from you.” Peter reassured me.

He was right.

“You think you’ll ever come back?” he asked, he almost entirely knew the answer but he still held out hope for you.

“ I   don't think so Pete,  I‘m sorry.” you said looking down in shame.

The reality was you could never face him again.

“Don’t be  I   wouldn't stand for that either  I  ‘m pretty sure a lot of us are done for too anyways but listen, you’re never going to be alone.” he said putting a hand on your shoulder.

“If you ever decide to come back not just as spider woman, but to the society, just know you have people in your corner.” he said, giving you a warm smile.

“Thanks pete.” you said as he stood opening a portal.

“Hey pete?” you called out.

Turning back to you he waited for you to continue.

“Don’t ever stop sending me Pictures of May Day. I need my daily serotonin boost.” you said with a soft smile earning yourself a chuckle in return.

“Never kid.” he said as he walked his way into the portal.

A soon as he was gone you went back under the covers and took a deep breath.

Peeking your head out from under the cover you looked at the picture you had framed on your wall.

It was of you receiving the key to the city.

Your city, the one you saved day and night.

Whenever it called for you.

You earned that key the same way you earned the title of spider-woman.

And you weren’t gonna let some words take that from you.

Wiping the fresh tears away you got out of bed putting Miguel's words in the back of your head and got to designing.

You were bigger than his words and you’d prove it.

In that moment you promised you’d make him regret ever  making you feel like you’re not good enough.

One day he’s gonna feel sorry for himself.

And one day you’ll be everything to somebody else.

And he’ll be the one who's crying.

Yeah, one day.

*If you’d like to be added to the tagslist just let me know I am more than happy to :)

[thetriumphantpanda]

nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years. 

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too. 

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you. 

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago? 

 “Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery. 

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.” 

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?” 

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing. 

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge. 

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.” 

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves. 

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.” 

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke. 

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.” 

*

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass. 

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip. 

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug. 

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!” 

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. 

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.” 

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?” 

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.” 

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.” 

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.” 

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer. 

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel. 

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him. 

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.” 

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.” 

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?” 

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?” 

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.” 

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.” 

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.” 

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?” 

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that. 

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.” 

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down. 

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash. 

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.” 

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy. 

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.” 

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize. 

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration. 

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?” 

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.” 

“Says who?” You pry. 

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone. 

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?” 

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.” 

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.” 

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you. 

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently. 

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.” 

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth. 

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?” 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him. 

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits. 

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.” 

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.” 

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?” 

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole. 

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.” 

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet. 

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers. 

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound. 

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.” 

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy. 

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans. 

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap. 

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.” 

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.” 

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised. 

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.” 

[starlightazriel]

bee 8

desc: modern day bestfriends>lovers azriel au (fem reader)

warnings: lots of time jumps, rhys being rhys, arguing/angst, lying, az being unhinged in vegas (leave my bby alone he's not used to serious relationships), reader being insecure , SMUT ! (oral, az eating the booty like groceries (we been over this guys hes a freak), raw dogging, soft dom, self gratification,vibrator, squirting, spanking, cream pie), fluff, drug/alcohol addiction

A/N: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG MY LIFE IS V V MESSY AND UNHINGED ALSO THIS ISNT FULLY PROOF READ

MOOD FOR THE BEGINNING OF THIS

wc: 5.9k

other parts can be found on my masterlist under azriel

eight

"I got us a massive suite at the four seasons for our trip this weekend," Rhys is grinning while showing Cassian a photo of what he had booked for them. Azriel suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, only Rhys would drop that big of a bag on a weekend work-stay, they were supposed to be location scouting. He didn't want to be ungrateful, but him and Bee were in their honeymoon phase... Everything was just going right, everything except the fact that Rhys wanted to move him hundreds of miles away.

"This weekend?" Azriel grimaces, leaning against the reception desk in the shop. Kat had gone home already and it was just Rhys, Cass and Azriel left. "What if I don't want to uproot my entire life here and move to Vegas?" he asks then, Cass shifts uncomfortably on his feet, looking between his two best friends.

Rhys' jaw flexed and he leaned back, tilting his chin up at Azriel in that power tripping way that he did so often. Azriels jaw flexed, his hands balling up at his sides as he stared Rhys down, not shying away from his intimidating frame. He knew challenging Rhys never ended well, sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

"You do realize that you have a contract, right Azriel? A contract that you signed, a contract that includes relocation if I see fit," Rhys voice is cool and unwavering as he assesses Azriel. "Maybe, if you had been sober while reading the contract, you would have known that was included," Rhys eyes narrowed, the tension in Azriels jaw grew, his temper flaring. "And maybe if you had been sober when we were talking about this trip weeks ago, you would have remembered that we were going this weekend to scout out a few potential new spaces," Rhys tone was unwavering, Cass winced behind him, it was always his job to keep the peace, usually between the three of them it was almost always Rhys and Az butting heads.

"Fuck this, I got dinner plans to get ready for," Azriels voice was a near growl now, and he didn't even bother to say good bye to either of his closest friends before he left them in the shop with a slam of the front door, the bells rattling at the top as it slammed shut.

His annoyance and Rhys' sheer entitlement had him needing to take the edge off. Az loved Rhys, of course he did, he was basically his brother- but that didnt mean they always agreed. Azriel tried not to think about Rhys' jabs at his sobriety while he took a quick sniff from his vile before heading home.

-

With Bee, it was just easy. Azriel didn't seem to have the same issues he did in the past with other women, being faithful to her came easy. He guessed it was because he always had been loyal to her in a sense, since they were just kids.

The past weeks had been a type of bliss that Azriel had never known, a different kind of high than the one he got from his drug of choice. They were fucking constantly, waking up together every morning, going on dates whenever they had time, fuck, he had even posted her which he had never done for anyone else... It was a picture of her at the beach, grinning so brightly it made his chest feel tight because he put that smile on her face. ive been so blind, was his only explanation under the photo.

And still, he wasn't able to bring himself to tell her about Rhys' Vegas plans for the next year. Everything was too perfect right now. Granted it had only been a few weeks since their first date, but he just didn't wanna mess everything up so soon, he wanted to live in this perfect little bubble just a little longer.

"Az? You with me?" she giggles softly, her dirty martini pulled to her lips, her eyes glowing as she looked at him from under dark lashes. "I think I want to get the vodka pappardelle," she places her glass down again and points to the menu.

"Yeah, whatever you want baby, sorry," he ran his finger through his hair, leaning back into his seat, flicking his eyes back down to the menu. "Just- I know it's last minute, I'm going on a little Vegas trip this weekend with Rhys and Cass," he waited a second before looking up and studied her face, absentmindedly messing with the straw in his own drink.

"A Vegas trip?" Bees eyebrows draw together, her attention was already on him, the menu forgotten, he swallowed. "Like Las Vegas?" she asks, a little more slowly this time. "Why are you guys going out there?" the concern, the uncertainty in her eyes made Azriels gut wrench. He knew he should tell her everything now, tell her that the possibility of him living there next year was becoming less of a possibility and more of a reality. Sure, when she was done with school, she could be a nurse anywhere... But that was still a ways away.

"Boys trip," he shrugs, and it wasn't exactly a lie, it just wasn't the full truth. She looked back at him skeptically, and he knew he had to change the subject soon.

"Boys trip, huh?" she leans back, raising an eyebrow skeptically. In the past- boys trips were really only meant for single Az.

"I'll be good," Az flashes her a smile, he knew he may have used the wrong choice of wording. A year ago, a boys trip to Vegas would have meant unlimited blow, maybe even a threesome, hooking up with randoms, losing all of his money. "Gonna gamble for sure though," he sips his drink, she's still looking at him with a skeptical look as if she knew there was more to the story. Luckily for Az the server came back for the rest of their order.

"Have we made some decisions?" she asks, looking between the two of them, Az only jerked his chin toward Bee, he liked the smile it put on her face to be able to choose everything for them so they could try it together.

"Yes we are going to share the duck pizza and the vodka pappardelle, you want oysters Az?" she lifts her eyes from the menu to look back at Azriel, he smirks and glances up at the server.

"Yeah, we'll start with a dozen," he shrugs and the waitress beams, making sure she had everything correct before leaving the table. "Thank you," he adds, but his eyes are back on Bee.

"So boys trip to Vegas, kinda last minute huh?" she quirks her brow again, leaning forward, her elbows on the table, Azriel tried not to let his eyes settle for too long on her breasts as they spilled slightly out of her top. Of course he wasnt lucky enough that she'd already forgotten about it.

"Yeah, I mean, I knew about it.. Just forgot," he shrugs easily, nudging her foot under the table, her eyes are hazy but he can still see that skeptical glint in them. He didn't want to lie, or leave parts of the truth out... But he also wanted to have a good night before he had to leave in a couple days, plus, she was working the rest of the week until he was gone anyway.

"Interesting," she murmurs, rubbing her finger against the base of her glass. "Anyway, you better bring something back for me," she shrugs before taking another sip from her martini.

"I wouldn't dream of coming back without something for my girl," he licks his lips, nudging her foot gently again under the table, her cheeks warm at his words and she rolls her eyes playfully at him. Az knew he was good at distracting her, though he wasn't sure if that was really a good thing or not.

"Yeah, yeah," she laughs softly, the sound made Azriels chest swell. "Thank you so much," she smiles softly as the runner sets the oysters down on the table between them.

"Can I grab you anything else?" the boy flashes her a cheeky grin that Azriel doesn't miss, he clears his throat as if to remind him he was sitting there across from her.

"More lemons," Az says boredly but there was an edge of annoyance in his tone, making the boys head snap to him and he blushed slightly, nodding his head. He didn't need more lemons, he just wanted to be difficult, the level of jealousy he felt when anyone even spoke to her was something he'd never experienced.

"Oh, of course, I'll be right back," he swallows, before running off back to the kitchen. Azriels eyes snap back to Bee, who's looking at him with pursed lips.

"Azriel, lay off the poor kid he's like eighteen," she shakes her head slightly, he noted that her martini was almost gone now, she was definitely feeling it. He only shrugs, smirking at her, stretching his legs out under the table so they were more than in her space, the skin of her bare calf pressed against his pants, she's nibbling on her lip, her eyes growing darker with lust. He loved how easy it was for him to get her going.

"Here you are, enjoy," hes back quickly and he places the small dish of lemons in front of Azriel.

"We will," Az only nods, Bee makes sure to utter a rushed thank you to him, shooting Azriel another look. "Don't look at me like that, lemme see you swallow," he smirks suggestively and she lets out a little puff of air her jaw dropping slightly but she couldn't help but smile.

"Azriel, don't be gross," she giggled quietly but she was still squeezing lemon onto the first oyster, he watched as the juice dripped off of her fingertips and she picked up the oyster, her eyes meeting his.

"That's it," he murmured, watching her tip her head back slightly and open her lips, her cheeks warmed at the gravelly tone of his voice. "Good practice for when I make you swallow something else tonight," he smirked, sipping from his drink while he watched her rest the shell on her lower lip, he watched her throat bob as she swallowed, humming softly in approval.

"Mmm those are good ones," she giggled softly, turning the shell over and placing it back on the ice.

"Youre a good one," his lips twitched in a sheepish smirk and she held his gaze, her own full of so much love it made his heart rate pick up.

"Az Im worried about you, cheesy much? youre definitely going soft on me," she grinned so brightly it made heat crawl up the back of his neck and onto his cheeks.

His cock was aching in his pants, he couldn't wait to get her back home. His jaw flexed before he muttered "you're going to be my end I swear."

-

"I should have stopped after the first two," I giggled quietly as I stumbled into my bedroom, kicking my heels off behind me, Azriel was right behind me, I could almost feel his eyes burning into my backside.

"I told you," he says in that low husky tone he often used with me these days, it was laced with so much need it made my head spin. "Anyway, Im glad now because it will give you courage for our reenactment."

"Reenactment?" I ask, turning to look at him now my brow slightly furrowed. "Of what?" I ask curiously, taking each of my earrings off, I had obviously been wearing the ones from Az, I had every day since he had gifted them to me. I had learned that he liked to get rough often, I didnt want to chance losing them so I tucked them away carefully in my jewelry box.

"Of the day I walked in on you," his voice was so calm and commanding it made my toes curl, my breath hitched, a warm tingling sensation spreading throughout my pussy. My cheeks warmed at the thought.

"Az- I can't..." I breathed out, my heart rate picking up at the thought of just purposefully touching myself in front of him.

"I didnt ask if you could. You will," he says, his voice so sure, and he was right. Knowing what he could do to me... Anything he told me to do, Id do it. Especially when he sounded like that. "I'll give you about five minutes to get situated, ten if youre lucky but I don't think I can be that patient. Im going to show you what I wanted to do to you," he adds, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. I was already moving before my brain could even process. My throat bobbed, my cheeks embarrassingly red as I retrieved the toy I had used that day from my top drawer and I left him alone in my room. It was annoying how easily he could render me speechless these days.

I slipped out of my dress and my panties, leaving them both on his bedroom floor, I didn't dare look at myself in the full length mirror he had. I let myself fall back onto his bed, inhaling his cedary scent just like I did that day he walked in on me.

My heart was racing as I spread my legs and placed my rose toy on my clit. I let out a small huff my eyes on Azriels open bedroom door as I let the toy suction softly to my pussy. My hand traveled up, caressing my skin gently before settling on my nipple, I rolled it gently between my fingertips. My breath hitched when he appeared in the door way, looking handsome as ever, my cheeks warmed at the sight of him. How had I gotten so lucky?

"That's my baby," Azriel chuckled darkly as he leaned against the door frame to his bedroom. I moaned softly when our eyes met, my cheeks turning pink. "Now if I had been bold enough that day, I would have got down on my knees like I'm about to now,"

"Az," I whimpered softly in desperation, the need for him starting to outweigh my nerves. It was hard to want to hide when he made me feel so sexy. A single look was enough to do me in.

"Shh baby," he hums softly and in one fluid motion, pulls me to the edge of the bed and slowly drops to his knees. I whimper softly as he brushes the sides of his face against my inner thighs, inhaling my scent before spreading my legs. I gasped softly my hand shaking slightly as I held my toy between my legs.

Azriel sucked gently and bit at the sensitive skin on my inner thighs, a guttural moan escaped my lips at the contrasting feeling. The sting of his little nibbles mixed with the soft buzz and suction from my toy had my back arching up. "Please Az," I gasped softly, I knew there would be little bruises peppered over my delicate skin.

"Please what baby?" he breathed out, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. My head was spinning, I didn't know if it was from the alcohol I'd drank at dinner or from the way he touched me, the way he took control, guided me. It just felt so right, so perfect.

"Please," I let a heavy breath pass through parted lips, my heart beating rapidly against my chest. "Please taste me, I need you," I begged softly, gasping as he pushed my legs up, the delicious scrape of his rough hands against my skin sending heat slithering down my spine.

"That's my good girl," he licked his lips at the sight of me, my legs spread and up in the air, bared to him except for my clit, the vibrator still buzzing around it. I was already so close, my cunt pulsating with need for him. My breath hitched when I felt his mouth on me, the slow lazy roll of his tongue on my second hole sending stars dancing in my eyes. I hummed softly, tossing my head back and letting my eyes squeeze shut, goosebumps raising all over my skin.

"F-fuck Az," I breathed out, the new sensation making my mind go numb. His thumbs pressed harder into the backs of my thighs, I arched my back slightly, gasping again for breath as he circled his tongue around and around my opening. He held my legs open as they threatened to close, quivering pathetically underneath his touch. It was only a matter of seconds before I was cumming, his name ringing out through the room, making him moan against me. My vibrator fell from my hand, gently hitting his cheek before rolling onto the floor next to him. I panted, my hips wriggling underneath him as he sucked the sensitive skin between my pussy and my ass before covering my entire cunt with his mouth. "Ohh my- fuck-" each word came out in a pathetic broken moan as he shook his head between my legs. I couldn't hold it back anymore and I was squirting all over his face, he moaned against me, pulling off of my pussy with a soft sucking sound.

He gently licked me down from my high, my body jerking with the aftershocks of my intense orgasms. "Damn baby I didnt know you could do that," his eyes are so dark and hazy with lust as he kisses back up my body, hes back on his feet now, hovering over me. "My little sprinkler," he teases before biting down softly on my nipple, I yelped softly, my body jerking.

"Az, I need you so fucking bad," I breathed out my eyes meeting with his. He grinned in that lazy way he did his face still glistening with my cum. He looked so damn happy, it made my heart sing. It had been a bit of a rare sight these last couple years... But these past few weeks? He had been nothing but happy, it made my chest swell knowing I was the cause of that happiness.

"I was gonna put my cock in your mouth first but since you've been so good we'll save it for later," he stood up straight, looking down at me hungrily, my legs laying lazily over the edge of the bed now. He undid his pants, his eyes never leaving me as he dropped them to the floor. "Lay on your stomach," he commanded, his voice gravelly. He watched me readjust myself, cursing quietly under his breath as I lay on my stomach across his bed before him.

I let out a moan when his hand unexpectedly connected with my ass with a loud slapping sound, the sting sending my toes curling. He gently lifted me up, his arm wrapping around my torso and lifting up with ease. He slid a pillow underneath to prop me up perfectly. Azriel gently rubbed his rough fingers over the tender spot he had smacked, humming in approval. "Ive wanted to do that since I watched you walk away from me in the hall that day," he admits, only earning a whimper in response from me. I was so ready for him to fuck me into nothing.

I shivered as Azriel slowly slid his fingertips over my shoulders and down my arms gently wrapping his large scarred fingers around the tips of his fingers pressing into the insides of my elbows as he pulled my arms behind my back. He used one hand to pin my wrists to my lower back, I whimpered softly, begging him for his cock again as his hand tightened on my wrists, his large hands finding no trouble.

He used his other hand to guide his cock toward my pussy, not bothering with a condom. If it was one thing about Az, we were fucking raw, every time. He slid his tip over my slick cunt, teasing gently before sinking into me, cursing softly under his breath as he did. "Yes please fuck me, please," I begged desperately, the side of my face pressed into his bed.

"That's my girl, so wet and tight for me," his fingers were gripping the bed beneath me, his mouth almost by my ear now as he moved in and out of me his cock filled me up over and over.

I moaned his name again, arching my back up for him, he hissed under his breath and spanked me again, I felt my ass jiggle under his big hand, the sting made my body jerk. "I love how you fuck me," I whimpered softly, feeling like a puddle beneath him, he still my hands pinned to my back, he let out a low groan from deep in his throat, up on his knees as he slammed his hips over and over against my ass.

I let out another broken moan, his considerable length dragging over my g spot every time he thrusted himself into me, I couldnt hold it in anymore and I came all over his cock with my third orgasm of the night, stars danced behind my eyes my body tensing underneath him. I couldnt stop the scream that left my lips as he continued fucking me, cursing again softly and squeezing my tender and red flesh from his spanks. "Ohh yesss Az..." I moaned again, his thrusts lost their rhythm as he grew closer, his breath heavy and erratic behind me.

"Mmm baby you're so fucking sexy," he breathed out before letting out a low guttural groan. "I'm gonna fill up that pretty little cunt," he grunted in my ear and with a few more thrusts I cried out softly at the feeling of his thick ropes of cum spilling into my pussy. So damn good. "Fuck," he breathed slowly pulling his hands from my wrists, my arms fell back at my sides and I whimpered softly as he slowly pulled his cock from my pussy. He swore again under his breath, "Stay just like that," he muttered, leaning over and grabbing his phone from the bedside table, and I felt him slap his still semi hard cock on my ass cheek. "For later," I could hear the grin in his voice as he snapped a picture of his gleaming cock against my ass. I just whimpered softly in response, my body feeling limp my mind numb. He tossed his phone aside on the bed and flipped me over onto my back and placed a soft kiss to my lips.

I had been waiting to get fucked like this for years. None of my past lovers had ever been able to compare to the way that Az made me feel, though if things hadn't gone the way they did with Az I probably would have ended up giving Eris another chance.

"You're so damn good at fucking," I huffed out, looking up at him with hazy satisfaction. "It's not fair," he just laughed and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead and then my lips. I let my eyes flutter shut again as he tucked my hair behind my ear before he muttered "let's get you cleaned up baby."

-

"Send me lots of pictures," Bee flashes her biggest grin, hugging Azriel so tightly. He smiled down at her, squeezing her back and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He was glad she had brought them to the air port, it gave him just a little extra time with her.

"I promise baby I will, I'm gonna miss you," he rubs small circles into her back, savoring the last few minutes they had together before he was on the plane.

"Be good okay?" she drops her voice lower, Rhys and Cass were standing off to the side waiting for him while he said his last goodbyes. He could tell she didn't want them to hear this part. "Just like- stick to drinking and bud okay? Just don't want you to buy something without knowing what it is for sure first.." she mumbles softly, biting down gently on her lip.

Az sighs quietly, pulling away slightly at her words, he knew she meant well but he couldn't help but get the tiniest bit annoyed. "I'm gonna be fine, chill off me," he chuckled quietly but leaned down and pressed one more kiss to her lips, because he know she was only saying that because she cared about him... She had never exactly supported his extracurricular activities. "I'll be good, and you better be good too," he warns playfully, but there was a slight edge in his tone so she would know he did mean it. "You're mine now, I don't want to hear about any red headed visitors," he raises an eyebrow and she pursed her lips, glaring lightly at him.

"Azriel. You know I would never-"

"I know," he cuts her off, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I gotta go baby, text me when you're home safe alright? I'll text you when I land," he opens his arms one last time to crush her in good bye hug, she hums softly tucking her chin into his neck and inhaling his scent.

"I love you," she mumbles softly, he just grinned and hugged her even tighter, he kissed the top of her head, not daring to utter it back yet. Some things he just wasn't ready for.

He had told her he loved her dozens of times, but he knew the next time he said those words to her, they would carry a whole different weight.

-

It was evening on the second day when they finally made it out onto the strip, the first day had been filled with scouting out locations. Rhys had already signed a lease, much to his own surprise, he thought he'd have to come back a few times before finding the perfect spot for their new shop. The signing was followed by a very late dinner and a few bottles of champagne before they retreated back to the massive suite Rhys had got for them.

Azriel had to admit, he liked it here. He was having a blast with his brothers, and he hadn't wanted to admit it before but he could see himself living here. He knew this would be a level up for him, he would make way more money out here... Plans were already stirring in his head for how he would convince Bee to move out here with him, she would have to transfer schools, quit her job... He knew that was a lot to ask. He couldn't imagine not living with her anymore...

"Sin city baby!!! AZ! Get outta your head man do you see this shit?" Cass had been excited since the moment they stepped off the plane yesterday, they were all quite fucked up now. They had been gambling all night, winning and losing money and had now settled in one of the nicest clubs Azriel had ever been in. There was half naked bottle girls everywhere, and of course Rhys had got them a VIP section with bottle service included.

"Oh I see it," Azriel laughs softly, catching the eyes of the bottle girl who was leaning very close to him as she poured shots for the three of them. She was definitely giving him the eyes. Azriel had to look away then, turning his head back toward Cass. "I'm just fucked up," against Bees wishes, the first thing he had done this morning was purchase a gram.

"Better hope that shit didn't have fenty in it," Rhys turns his head to look at Az, who rolls his eyes in response.

"It's doesn't," he snaps back, before downing another shot, he didn't even know how many he'd had at this point. "It's just good shit you want a line?" he raises his eyebrows, there had been a time the three of them did this all together. Az just never grew out of it...

"I'll take one man, I'm in fucking Vegas!" Cass shouts, earning a laugh from Az who simply passed the little white bag over. This was one thing about Vegas he liked, the freedom of just being able to do a line in the club and no one even batted a single eye because it was Vegas, and obviously one of them had money if they had a VIP here.

"Some day the two of you will grow up," Rhys sighs before beckoning the bottle girl over for the list of bottles they could purchase.

"Get the Clase Rhys we are celebrating!" Cass voice boomed out and he shot to his feet, shaking his head with the effect the drugs had on him. Azriel just laughed and snatched his little bag back from him.

"Easy," Az laughs again, catching the bottle girls eye again, he didn't mean to, she was fucking staring. She flashed him a seductive little grin before retreating to get the bottle that Rhys had ordered.

He knew a few months ago he would have flirted a little and ended up taking her back to the room. He wasn't single anymore though, and the pain it would cause Bee just for him to get his nut off for a night while he was on his boys trip, it just wasn't worth it. Plus, he needed her to know he wasn't that guy anymore. He wanted to be everything for her.

-

"No fucking way," my phone tightened in my hand as I stared down at it, Kat and I were out to brunch, she figured we should have a little girls weekend while the boys were away. So finally we were able to do something since I had Sunday off, Az wouldn't be landing back home until late tonight.

"What is it?" Kat asks, lifting her eyes from her plate.

"Go look at fucking Cassian's instagram," I said through gritted teeth as I swiped through each photo from their apparent escapades lastnight.

There was my Az, my Az... Grinning wickedly, leaning over, face smushed between the tits of two bottle girls who were wearing nothing but lingerie to cover their most intimate bits. He had his arms around each of them, a drink nearly spilling over one of their shoulders. His pupils were blown out, clearly he hadn't listened to me about staying away from drugs out there. My heart was sinking further with the scroll of each photo. There was another snap shot of him dancing with one of them, she was bent over, her ass shaking on him, one of his hands loosely on her waist.

"Oh fuuuck.." Kat drew out the word, her eyes widening as she looked down at the photos on her phone.

"Yeah fuck is right," I locked my phone, tossing it on the table next to me before downing the rest of my mimosa. "I fucking knew it, he hasn't changed even a little bit- As soon as he said boys trip I-"

"Boys trip?" she asked, drawing her eyebrows together. "That's what he told you?" she asks, biting her lip and gnawing on it a bit. What the fuck did she know?

"Kat...?" I say slowly, meeting her eyes, her cheeks are flushed as if she had just said something she knew she shouldn't have.

"I- I'm sure Az is going to tell you- I don't think it's my place to-"

"Just spit it out," I was starting to get more angry, the gnawing feeling of shame starting to eat at my stomach. "What do you know?!" I demanded and she loosed a breath, leaning back in her seat.

"Bee- I swear I thought he told you- Please don't tell him it was me that said anything I'm sure he's just waiting for-"

"Just spit it out Kat," I repeat, an impatient edge to my tone. What had he kept from me?

"It was a location scouting trip- For-for the new shop that Rhys is opening up with Az and Cass in Vegas," her voice is soft now, and she's almost wincing as she waits for my reaction.

Just like that... It felt like everything had been some sick game to pass the time. My stomach turned, I felt like I was going to lose everything I had eaten on our little brunch date.

"I'm so fucking stupid," I breathed softly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I really thought I knew him better than that... I never expected him to pull some shit like this. To keep something this big from me.

-

Azriel groaned loudly as he rolled over, the silky sheets slipping from his skin as he reached for his phone. He smiled, noticing the few notifications he had from Bee, his face quickly fell, and he was sitting up straight in an instant rubbing his eyes.

good morning!! can't wait to see you tonight

Normal, but the message below that one, and the notification that she stopped sharing her location? Definitely not normal. They had been sharing location for years, basically since it had become an option.

going to visit my family for a couple days i'll talk to you when i get back.

He quickly typed out a response.

everything okay baby?

He knew he had forgotten to face time her lastnight before he went to bed, but he was so fucked up he couldn't even remember getting home. And it had to have been almost 5 am when they had gotten back to the resort. She had asked him before they left to face time her before he went to sleep both nights, surely she couldn't be that mad over that, could she?

As he padded into the little kitchen that was built into the suite, his eyes were glued to his phone. He opened instagram next, and his stomach twisted slightly when he pressed her story and it was one of those dumb quotes girls tended to post after getting dumped about never really being able to know someone.

Fuck what did I do? his face had gone a little pale, the contents of the michelin star dinner they had lastnight and all the alcohol he had consumed bubbled in his stomach, he was racking his brain, trying to piece together the night, he couldn't really remember much of anything once they had left the casino and got to the club.

All he had to do was scroll down to the top post on his feed and his face paled. "Cass are you fucking dumb?" he's in Cassians part of the suite before he can even think shaking him awake.

"What the fuck man?" Cass groans, rolling over and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Rhys was behind them now, he had been up for an hour or two already.

"You saw the instagram post didn't you?" Rhys chuckles from behind him, holding his coffee cup in hand, leaning against the door frame.

"You think this shits funny?" He demands, whirling around to direct his attention to Rhys. As angry as he was at Cass, he knew it was only his fault that he had bought coke and got completely black out shit faced drunk. "Man fuck both of you," he growls and turns on his heel, storming to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

-

a/n: sorry but if it's one thing abt me yk i love drama

taglist: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta

[anikaluv]

miles 42 fic with this maybe ? https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT88Q1Skn/

you great btw girl!!

CATCH THIS MCFIST —

❤︎︎ pairing:  Miles (e!42) × fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff

❤︎︎ cw:  cussing, reader and Miles being violent lmao, reader being threatened

❤︎︎ summary: You and Miles work at McDonalds together and one day a rude customer starts to shout at you and things start to go wrong quickly. Thankfully your boyfriend is here to save the day.

❤︎︎ w/c: 1k

❤︎︎ a/n: I really tried to come up with something funny for the title but at one point I just gave up lmao

You wanted to save up your first car. Everyone around you was already getting theirs on their 16th birthdays, but your momma wasn't going to spend 20k on something for you. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands and get a job to save the money. When you told Miles about your plan, he did the most supportive thing any boyfriend would do.

He suggested to work with you of course.

It had been two months since you and Miles started working together at McDonald's. There haven't been any major incidents so far, except for the occasional Karen being upset about the number of fries in her basket. Overall, things were going good.

Your routine had settled into a comfortable pattern. Each day, you would wake up, get dressed, and Miles would pick you up. You both went to work, and after a long day, you'd return home, only to repeat the cycle all over again. Spending so much time together was becoming something cozy for the both of you.

Until one douche had to fuck shit up.

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon, which meant it was busy. The drive thru was jacked up, and people were bustling at the front counters in lines that stretched so far you couldn’t the see the end. You could hear Miles groaning from behind you while preparing himself.

You walked towards him and giggled. Cupping his face between your hands you pulled him to you and stole a light peck as he hummed grogily. “We got this guapo (handsome)”, you whispered before whisking away to appease the people at the counter.

You handled the first few people in line efficiently, taking their orders and swiftly typing them into the pad while completing the transactions with ease. Then, a guy came forward.

He was on the older side and well, quite big. The moment he walked up to tell you his order, he coughed loudly without bothering to cover his mouth. Before you could even speak, he held up a finger, signaling you to wait. You knew that this customer was going to test your patience.

“Hi Sir, welcome! Do you know what you-“ you began, but you were shushed. “Hol’ on darlin’, im still lookin’” he said, not bothering to make eye contact with you, abruptly interrupting your sentence. Gritting your teeth, you responded, "Of course, Sir, take your time."

.

.

.

It has now been 2 minutes. This old, fat, sack of dust has been staring at the menu for 2 minutes and you can tell you weren’t the only one annoyed. The customers eyeing him in line were starting to get restless and soon the curses they were muttering under their breathes would be shouted out loud.

You cleared your throat before speaking, trying to catch his attention. He finally turned towards you. Ignoring his offended face, you brought him back to reality, "Sir, do you know what you would like to order? There are plenty of customers behind you waiting for service," you said, gently nudging him to make a decision.

You watched as the man started to frown deeply at you, clenching his fists and turning red. "Damn woman, can you just wait a goddamn minute?" he snapped, and you raised an eyebrow at his sudden anger towards you, confused if your tone had come off as arrogant.

In defense, you raised your arms, trying to remain calm. "I understand, Sir, it's just that there are a lot of customers waiting behind you, and it seems you don't know what you want to order," you soothed, using a more calming tone as the man clenched his teeth.

"Who are you to talk down to me like this? I don't think you know your place, sweetheart," he said, the affectionate nickname sounding nothing less than condescending. Now you were starting to get angry, but you resisted the urge to shout back, not wanting an employee complaint so early in your employment. Instead, you took deep breaths to stay composed.

However, the man in front of you seemed determined to escalate the situation. "Someone might just have to teach you some manners, doll," he smirked, punching his fist into his hand in a menacing manner. Truth be told, you knew how to defend yourself, but this man was much larger than you, so you couldn't help but feel frightened.

Little did you know, your loving boyfriend had been watching the scene unfold since the beginning, and he decided that it had gone too far.

Miles strode up to the counter, pushing you behind him, and scowled at the decaying load of waste in front of him. He looked the man dead in the eye and said, "Aye man, you can catch this 4 piece combo without the chicken."

Out of nowhere, Miles lunged across the counter and punched the man that probably had a episode on My 600 Pound Life in the face, knocking him off balance and making him fall.

Your eyes widened as people gasped at the scene unfolding in front of them. Some began pulling out their phones to record the spectacle. Miles continued to punch the man repeatedly, the man failing to defend himself in his compromised position.

Feeling a surge of excitement, you jumped over the counter and decided to join in, landing a few punches yourself. "Catch this McFist, bitch!" you shouted as you pummeled the man in his stomach, making his belly shake like jelly.

Eventually, you both decided you had had enough. You stood up and returned behind the counter, Miles going back to work on his order, and you going back to your station, radiating a warm glow like nothing happened. With cheer, you shouted, "Next in line, please!" wearing a grin that reached the stars.

Of course, you and Miles were fired after the videos of the incident blew up and your boss found out. You both had decided that it was worth it, though, you would put a asshole in their place any day.

ENDING A/N: This ended up being more violent then I thought - anyways here anon eat up 😍

TAGLIST: @janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld @spidrstar @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @popeheywardssecretgf @lumineliax @fukingsad @wisteriaflowersss @crxss01 @joliety @fiannee @sylisan @111arianne

TAGS:

[firstkanaphans]

I know this post is only for like two people, but I’m going to make it anyway. So, my obsession with Dead Friend Forever finally reached critical levels and I resorted to binge-watching The Hidden Character just to get more content. For those that don’t know, The Hidden Character (which they literally call “THC”) was the reality show Be On Cloud used to cast DFF. It is bad. Like really bad. And not in a it’s-so-bad-it’s-good-type way. It’s one of the most exploitative pieces of media I have ever watched. I walked into it with a favorable view of BOC, Mile, Apo, and Pond (the CEO), and walked out of it hating all of them.

A small collection of things that happened over the 11-episode run:

Everyone was told that they had to share every single aspect of their life with the viewers or they would be eliminated. And, in fact, the first person eliminated was told that it was because he wasn’t being open enough with the audience. They filmed these boys—one of whom was only seventeen at the time—talking explicitly about their sex lives. Which is, of course, fine to talk about. It’s not fine to air it on television! Even some of the games themselves contained sexually suggestive content (i.e. Which do you prefer "eating" with—your hands or your mouth? If you were to cheat on your significant other, would it be just sex or a full-blown affair?)

During the first part of the show, everyone had a secret that the other players were supposed to guess. One of the player’s secret was that he used to be homophobic. (Questionable casting for a company that only hires men, but I digress). He was praised for having changed his mind. In contrast, JJay’s secret was that he was raised in an abusive household and had once hit his father. Pond crucified the poor guy for this. He made him sit there in front of the whole cast sobbing and apologize for hitting his dad who was an abusive asshole.

After the first half of the show—which served absolutely no purpose at all—we finally move onto the acting portion. This is, after all, supposed to be a talent competition. The judges were so mean. Especially Apo. He was like the Simon Cowell of BOC. There was no constructive component to their criticism. The fact that any of these people are still acting is honestly unbelievable. I would have gone home and cried myself to sleep and then never stepped foot on a stage again.

At one point, each of the groups was assigned a scene from KinnPorsche to act out (because BOC very clearly owns no other IP). One of the pairs was given the scene where Porsche gives Kinn a handjob in the bathroom. I wish I was kidding. 

The judges constantly told the contestants to make their scenes feel new and different but any time the actors actually tried to change anything, they complained it was “too” different and the original script was already perfect so who were they to think they could create something better. Once again, Apo and Mile, the original actors of these scenes, are the ones judging them! Like of course they like their version better. What is even happening??

And finally, the whole fucking thing was rigged for Ta to win. Like don’t get me wrong, I love Ta and I think he did a great job, but he was the only one who came into that competition with a built-in fanbase and the winner was chosen by popular vote.

It was all just…baffling. Especially from a company that claims to be trying to change the industry. Like if you want the industry to stop being so exploitative to its actors, maybe start with yourself? It also makes those condescending “how dare you watch our shows just for the NC scenes” press releases they do every week even more annoying.

I have no clue what the reaction to this show was while it was airing but god I hope they never do it again. It literally makes me feel so weird watching DFF now. I feel like those poor kids are being held hostage. Maybe CEO Pond’s been the one under the mask the whole time 🔪

[spdrvyn]

nauseously nurtured: MIGUEL O'HARA

after getting discharged from work, miguel tries to give you as much as attention as possible while he's away. only to grow concerned, when you don't pick up his call on the last day of your break.

hurt/comfort. omg?! another post?! that's crazy, anyway time to disappear for a month! (just kidding, i have another fic to post on v-day)

Love is in the air? Wrong, gas leak! 

That was the clever message you sent to Miguel while he bombarded you with calls immediately afterwards to check if you were okay. It was as you described, there was a gas leak at work so you had the next three days off as they sorted the issue. 

He had insisted (if not, forced) you to quarantine in that duration for good reasoning, spoiling you with all of your favorite take out places while you two tried to keep in touch through call and messages. 

Concern had worn Miguel through when he got back home to you, he wasn't able to tear himself away. Checking your eyes, ears, mouth even for any signs of sickness and letting out the biggest huff of relief when you're completely spotless. You insisted that the only sickness in you was how sick you were for him, to that he wanted to roll his eyes at but he'll put up with your corny lines as long as it meant you were healthy and happy. 

Next morning, he dreaded having to go to work. Multiversal protection wasn't something he was feeling when you were home and all his for the taking, but you practically pushed him out of bed when he didn't let up on his grasp on you. Still, his attachment didn't evade you even when you were miles away from each other. 

You texted him the oddest things, Miguel found himself with a fond smile in the middle of a full cafeteria with multiple eyes on him because you sent him a stupid fucking 0.5 image of a stray cat. To which he had to glare other spiders down from sheer embarrassment, scarfing down his food to hide back into his office. 

The call time averaged on four hours, sometimes seven to eight if there wasn't any urgent business. Jess or Peter B. would join in too, but the latter was more intrusive if all else. 

On the third way, you don't call him. 

Nor do you pick up Miguel's calls, the worry came back to him like it always did. He texted you, over and over but you didn't even leave him on read either. 

Of course, he's unlucky enough to have more business that urgently needs tending to so he takes care of that first. Gruffly pushing buttons on his watch to call you again as the extraction team works behind him, he brightens up under the mask when you actually answer him this time. 

That little hologram he'd have of you doesn't appear this time, which means that your video was off. Again, strange. You always had your video on when talking to him, most of the time it wasn't even focused on you but whatever you were doing. Still, he wasn't going to waste the little time he had thinking about it. 

"Cariño," he felt the breath enter his lungs again. "You didn't pick up my call a while ago, que paso? Are you feeling sick from the leak?" That last question stuck to his suspicions as he heard the sound of sniffling and nose blowing on the other side of the call, the grip he had on his wrist tightening. 

"Migs, I need you." you sniffled, "Could you come home please?" You didn't need to say anymore than that. 

As the team begun to call for him, he cussed under his breath. Moving closer to his watch to wish you a goodbye before ending the call, sending you a quick text that he'd be home soon and he does. 

Two hours later. 

There were too many problems that needed taking care of. Injured spiders, broken equipment, not to mention that the signal towers were down for whatever reason so he couldn't find a way to contact you. It was maddening to maintain any sort of composure in those two hours, the thought of you all sick and needy at home was the only thing keeping him from simply losing it. 

He'd swung back to his home in a daze, nearly missing sight of the poles or buildings in his way that he'd almost bumped into them and probably would have caused him more time to get back to you. It was already dark when he slipped into the window, when he saw your shriveling form on the bed. 

You had a comforter draped over your entire body, a show blasting from your phone speaker. Multiple tissues were scattered on the sheets of the bed, littered on the floor too. An empty glass of water with a crumpled pack of chips on the bedside table, how pitiful it all looked. 

He approached the bed slowly, letting his presence be known by his weight being brought down on the mattress as it sunk slightly. The noises from your phone silence as he pulls the blanket up slightly, only to discover that you're not sick. 

Puffy eyes, messy hair, ruined makeup, outside clothes, and runny mascara were telltale signs of what had happened for you to be in such a state. His gaze had softened, but yours didn't. Your frown deepened as you yanked the comforter from his grasp and covered yourself with it again as another sob was ripped from you. 

"I– things were getting too crazy back at work," he begun to grovel. "Lo siento, por favor. I should've been there for you and I wasn't, please forgive me." 

He noticed the tremble as you growled in frustration, abandoning your hiding altogether as you seethed at him. "God damn it!" the ink from your mascara no longer had any sort of effect, clear tears streamed down your cheeks. "Why– why do you have to do this everytime? Ask for forgiveness, be so- so understanding and caring for- for other people—" 

His confusion is most imminent, but the fretfulness on his face overshadowed that as you curled against him, your hands fisting the nano-fabric of his suit. It glitches and bends around your manicured fingers, his own hands move to grip your waist and pull you closer to him in some form of a hug. 

"You know what they said about you?" your voice shook with unease, "They said that you're so perfect, too good for me, how it was even possible that I bagged someone like you." 

Disdain plagued each word that you spewed, Miguel wanted to be offended, he should have been offended. But deep down, he knows that all of his hatred was truly directed at yourself. "Who's 'they'?"

"My friends!" you pushed against him once more, but his hands remained steady on you. Moving up and down your sides in a gesture of soothing, you push a dainty finger against the hard muscle of his chest. "And they're right! I don't even know if it's all in good fun anymore because- because you—" 

No more is able to come out of your mouth aside from a pathetic croak, you shudder before your grip on his suit loosens and you become limp against his hold. "M'sorry," you whimper, "I'm being emotional again. Too much. You have too much of me." 

This hurt so much more than any wound he's sustained from battle, seeing you in this state was bad enough, but to know that he wasn't able to come to your beck and call the moment he'd heard about it probably stung even more. 

How could he be so careless? Why couldn't he go just a little faster at HQ? Maybe then, you wouldn't have turned out like this. A sad, shivering mess in his hold. His fingers curl around your cheeks, flushed and red. Either from crying or from being inebriated, it didn't matter.

"It's okay," he leans forward, your tears are salty as he kisses them away. Your breath hitches, eyelashes fluttering as his lips feel hot on your skin. "I think it's beautiful. You're beautiful." 

The moment freezes for a bit, Miguel's lips barely leave your face, neither does his hands as he calms you down. You think how someone could be so sweet, while barely even saying a word. He mumbles unintelligible phrases under his breath that you're too dazed to pick up on, but you can only hope he's whispering about how much he loves you.

And he really does, he loves you more than whatever "too much" meant. The rush of victory he feels after successfully completing a mission couldn't compare to the sheer happiness of getting home to you, safe and sound. Confiding in your presence, forgetting about everything and everybody else until the next morning. 

It gets harder and harder to move, to breathe, you go as limp as a ragdoll. Miguel still holds you, he moves his lips to your forehead in one long kiss. There's still some part of you that wants to be closer, closest, so weakly you pull at his bicep.

He shields you from all else for a while, the idle sounds of the city don't even make it to your ears except for the steady thump of Miguel's heart as your cheek is pressed against his chest. His hand tangles in your hair, brushing through knots while scratching at your scalp in the meanwhile. 

You don't think that you say anything to each other for the rest of the night, but that's okay. You're okay. You're beautiful. 

[cowgurrrl]

Going to The Chapel

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Author’s note: the wedding day fic is coming but this was the first idea that presented herself so enjoy

Summary: “Where did love begin? What human looked at another and saw in their face the forests and the sea? Was there a day, exhausted and weary, dragging home food, arms cut and scarred, that you saw yellow flowers and, not knowing what you did, picked them because I loved you?” — Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping [2.2k]

Warnings: quick canonical type of violence, grief, idiots in love, domestic Joel and Ellie

Let the record reflect that despite twenty years of an apocalypse and an insane amount of loss, Joel Miller is still a romantic. It just took him a little longer to find that part of himself again. 

The first time he thinks about it, you're sitting on the floor with Ellie, helping to adjust her hold on her guitar. "It's not going anywhere. You can relax," you tell her. You gently move her hands and ensure she has a pillow under her so she can be comfortable while you teach her chords. The sun slips behind the mountains and makes the light hit your eyes as you watch her gain confidence in her strumming. Ellie looks to you for guidance when she gets stuck or needs reassurance, and you never flinch. By the end of the night, Ellie's fingers are raw, and you tell her how proud you are of her. "You'll be playing circles around us in no time." You say, and Ellie's smile makes you light up. Maybe, he thinks. Maybe here. Maybe now.

It's not that he had never thought about marrying you. He dreamt about it all the time but figured that's all it could be; a dream. He made excuses for why he never proposed. He was too old, too broken, and too scared. The world had already taken so much from both of you that it seemed cruel to even think about creating a family like that. And then Ellie happened. Suddenly, you had this little girl you loved and cared for more than anyone else, and you found a safe home thousands of miles away from Boston. Everything had changed. Why couldn't this change too?

The next time the thought crosses his mind, you're holding Tommy and Maria's daughter. Camille Sarah Miller came into the world and immediately captured both your hearts, but you aren't focused on Camille when he thinks about it. Sure, she's sleeping in your arms, but you're looking at Maria and asking how she's feeling, how much she's sleeping, and what she's been eating. When someone has a new baby, it's easy to get caught up in the latest family addition but not you. You care about Tommy and Maria's well-being as much as Camille's, and tell them never to hesitate to ask you for help. That night, you go home and make two freezer meals for the new parents. That's the night Joel asks Ellie what she would think if he asked you to marry him. Her answer encaptured everyone else's feelings: "Fucking finally."

He asks Tommy where he got Maria's ring the next day. Tommy smiles and claps his big brother on the shoulder before directing him to the local blacksmith. He usually only works with artillery, but he makes special exceptions for things like this. Joel designs the ring himself with some help from Ellie—a simple gold band with wildflowers etched into the sides. They look exactly like the ones you and Ellie would pick while on the way across the country. Joel used to complain about wasting time and asked you about it one night after Ellie had gone to bed. "Ellie's fourteen years old, and the closest thing she's seen to a flower is probably a Cordyceps," you said. "Just… let her be a kid, okay?" He could tell you were waiting for a fight, but he just nodded. That was the first time he realized you were starting to love Ellie too.

"What's this?" Ellie asks, pointing to the year etched on the inner part of the ring. 

"It's the year we met," He says. Ellie smiles and mumbles something that sounds like "you fucking sap" as she hands him the ring back. "So, d'you think she'll like it?"

"I think she'll love it." She says. It's all the confirmation Joel needs. 

He had something planned, he really did, but in true Miller fashion, it didn't work out that way. He planned on taking you to the meadow where you've gone on a few family picnics together, delivering a long, emotional speech where he'd probably cry and then pull out the ring. What actually ended up happening was much less wholesome. You two were out on patrol when a group of raiders attacked you. You managed to take them all down, but not before Joel got shot in the shoulder. You were frantically trying to slow the bleeding enough to get him back on a horse when he asked. "Can we talk about it when you're not bleeding out?" You yelled as you pulled him off the ground.

So, that's why you're holding his hand in the hospital as his drugs slowly start to wear off. You tell him everything the doctors did and that you can take him home in the morning. Ellie gets to sleepover at the Other Miller's (as Ellie affectionately calls them) house and is relieved that he caught a bullet in the shoulder, not somewhere more severe. "And I won't hold you to the bleeding-out proposal, so we're good." You laugh, but he looks serious.

"Check the front pocket of my backpack," He says. You furrow your brows but open the pocket to find the gold ring at the bottom. Your hand flies to cover your mouth as tears fill your eyes, and you look at him. "I was goin' to propose in the meadow. I planned a whole thing, but somehow this feels more like us." He smiles and reaches for you. You let him hold your hand as you stand beside his hospital bed, tears streaming down your face. 

"Does Ellie know?" You ask, and he laughs. 

"She helped pick the ring out." 

"Oh, my god." You cry. He squeezes your hand and takes the ring from you. Tears fill his eyes as he stares at you like you hung the stars.

"Will you marry me?" He finally asks, and you nod. 

"Of course I will." 

"You sure? 'Cause, there's no backin' out after this."

"Yes, I'm sure," You laugh as you bend down and kiss him. Joel's arm isn't strong enough to hold you, and you can't stop crying, but it's perfect. You break the kiss with giddy laughter, still incapable of wrapping your mind around the fact that Joel just proposed to you in a hospital room. "How long have you been planning this?"

"I mean, the gettin' shot part wasn't the original plan." 

"No, I meant, how long have you been planning to propose?"

"Baby, I always thought about marrying you," The gentleness of his voice is enough to make you tear up again. He grabs your left hand and carefully slides the ring on your finger. It's the tiniest bit too big, and you can't help but laugh as he groans defeatedly. "This was supposed to go so much better!" He says. You kiss him again and feel him smile against your lips.

"It's perfect. Thank you." 

You climb into the hospital bed with him, avoiding his injured shoulder, and listen as he points out all the details. He tells you about the engraving on the inside of the year you met and the flowers that were copied exactly from a drawing. He explains the original plan further and then apologizes for getting shot. "As long as you don't get hurt every time we try to make a life-altering change, I think we'll be fine." You say, and he laughs. You stay up talking for a long time even though the nurses urged Joel to get some rest. 

You wonder aloud what Sarah would think about her dad getting married, what all your dead loved ones would think about this. Your parents would've loved Joel, but they would've loved Ellie more. They'd probably listen to her tell shitty jokes all day if they could. You miss them, especially now. You laugh, trying to imagine Tess throwing you a bachelorette party that would inevitably be insane. You talk about what Bill and Frank would say and decide that Frank would definitely cry while Bill would insist on cooking on the wedding day. You'd have Henry stand at the front and sign the entire ceremony to Sam. Eventually, you end up falling asleep listening to Joel's heartbeat, and for the first time in a long, long time, you don't have a nightmare. Instead, you dream of a wedding day full of all your favorite people. 

You were never one to believe in signs from beyond, but you take the peaceful dream as one big group hug from those you've lost.

You're exhausted when you leave the hospital in the morning, but you still make the walk to the Other Miller's house. You can hear Ellie talking to Tommy about her favorite comic book when you walk through the door, not even bothering to knock. "Hello?" You call as you walk into the kitchen with Joel close behind you. Ellie and Maria have a stack of pancakes in front of them as Tommy mans the stove with a sleeping Camille strapped to his chest. 

"Hey! How are you feeling?" Maria asks. You walk over to Ellie and smooth her hair back before kissing her forehead. She scrunches her nose at you but doesn't protest when you wrap your arms around her. You're sure Joel is answering Maria's question, but Ellie catches the glint of your ring before he can finish his sentence.

"Holy shit! He actually did it?" She asks loudly, and you shoot Joel a look. He shrugs, a smile pulling at his lips, as Maria and Tommy give each other confused looks. Ellie grabs your left hand to look at the ring, and it finally connects in Maria's head.

"Holy shit!" She yells, shooting out of her chair and covering her open mouth with her hands. You laugh as she leans over to look at your ring, a happy noise leaving her.

"It only took him getting shot, but he proposed." You say, and the room erupts into cheers. Tommy turns off the stove before walking over to Joel and wrapping him in as big of a hug as he can give him with Camille in the sling. Maria hugs you and rocks you back and forth, practically screeching about how excited she is. When she's done congratulating you, the couple switch, and Tommy hugs you tightly.

"Welcome to the family, officially." He says as he kisses your temple. Your chest could burst from all the love filling the room, and you feel your eyes getting wet again.

"Thank you, Tommy," You say. Tommy declares to make more celebratory pancakes, this time in the shape of a ring, but he barely gets a response as Maria asks Joel for all the details about the proposal. You look down to see Ellie staring at you with a big smile. You crouch down to look her in the eyes and put a hand on her knee. "What do you think about all this, kiddo?" 

"I'm just glad he finally got the balls to ask you. I thought it'd be forever before you guys made it official," she jokes. You smile but stay silent, waiting for her honest answer. She takes a deep breath, glancing between you and Joel before landing on you again. You squeeze her knee to encourage her to talk and see tears brimming in her big, brown eyes. "I'm really, really happy you guys are getting married." 

"You're sure? 'Cause I'll give this ring right back to him if you say the word."

"Hey! I worked hard on that ring!"

"I heard," you say, holding your left hand up to spin the band. "They're the wildflowers we used to pick, right?"

"It was Joel's idea. I just drew it." She says, and your heart skips a beat. You look at your ring again and notice the tiny pencil markings on the petals. A tear falls from your eye as you look at her again, grabbing her hand.

"Your drawings are on my ring?" 

"Do you like them?" She asks nervously, and you pull her into a tight hug. 

"Oh, baby girl," you whisper. "They're perfect." Joel doesn't miss your interaction with Ellie, there's rarely a time when he isn't watching his girls, and he smiles. Maria runs into the other room and comes back with a Polaroid camera in her hands.

"Okay, okay, you love birds! Let's get a picture!" She says, waving her hands for Joel to stand with you. Joel pretends to be annoyed, but you catch the sparkle in his eyes as he walks over to you and Ellie. He wraps an arm around your waist, and you put a hand on Ellie's shoulder to keep her from trying to escape the picture as the camera flashes. You eat pancakes and laugh with your family as the picture develops safely on the counter. Before you can leave, now with Ellie in tow, Maria hands you the picture with her handwriting under it. The Millers, she wrote, even though you haven't decided on whether you want to change your name and Ellie will forever have her mother's surname. 

Names don't mean anything when it comes to family, and you've always been family. You and Ellie have always been Millers, even if you didn't know it.

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Tag list: @evyiione

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Really Very Pretty

Eddie Munson x f!reader

Description: Eddie's best friend gets a bit too drunk and starts to run her mouth when he has to go save her.

Warnings: alcohol (reader is drunk through this whole thing), language.

Word Count: 1953

Read Part Two Here!

My Masterlist!

Eddie should have known better. He should have been able to clock it from a mile away, but you had insisted that you were going to have a good time.

He knew you well enough to know that this party was going to end badly.

He didn't even know which friend of a friend's birthday it actually was. He'd dropped you off in front of a house he'd never taken you to before, and thank god he saw Robin standing on the porch, because he was almost ready to lock the van doors and take you right back home. You were clearly anxious about the outing, but you had continuously brushed it off, citing nothing more than excitement as the reason for your shaky hands. Eddie had practically begged you to let him tag along and play guard dog, but he hadn't been invited and, with the exception of Robin and maybe one other, you didn't know any of these people very well. You didn't want to step on any toes by bringing a plus one that you didn't actually have.

Eddie wasn't entirely sure why he was so nervous for you. You were an adult, you could handle yourself. And besides, he had no obligation to keep you safe like that; you two had been friends for a long time, but bodyguard was typically a boyfriend role.

Right?

It was well into the night, nearing three o'clock in the morning, when Eddie's phone finally rang. He had told you to call him so he could pick you up. He trusted you to know better than to try and drive yourself after a few drinks, but he definitely didn't trust the people you were with to get you home either. He scrambled out from under his acoustic guitar to answer the phone.

"Hey! I expected you to call ,like, two hours ago, are you-"

"Eddie, it's me," he heard Robin say from the other end. That was odd. His stomach instantly became heavy with anxiety; was something wrong? Had something happened?

"Robin! Hi," he said, trying to control the slight shake in his voice. "Wasn't expecting your voice. What's up?"

"You need to come get your girlfriend," Robin stated. Eddie instantly felt heat creep up his neck and was very grateful that Robin wasn't able to hear the blush that had settled onto his cheeks.

"Robin. She's not my girlfriend. You know that."

"Yeah, whatever. Just come get her."

"Did something happen?" Eddie's embarrassment was quickly stubbed out by nervousness.

"Not really," Robin responded, though she didn't sound all that confident in her answer.

"What?" Eddie asked with frustration. He loved Robin, he really did, but she never quite had a way with words. "What does 'not really' mean?"

"She just got, like, way drunker than she wanted to, I think," Robin clarified. "And now she's hiding, and I think she's crying, and I don't know what to do! I know you dropped her off, and-"

"Fuck, alright, I'm on my way," Eddie cut her off. He hooked the phone back to the wall and dashed out to the van.

This kind of thing had happened before. It wasn't like you didn't know your boundaries when it came to this kind of stuff, it was more like you would often choose to ignore them. You'd always been able to hold your liquor (it was kind of impressive sometimes, actually) but your impulsive nature left you prone to having just a few drinks too many. Pair that with how weird you'd been all day leading up to the party, and Eddie cursed himself for leaving you all alone.

By the time Eddie pulled up to the house most of the party goers had left, and only a handful of stragglers remained. He walked in and found Robin quickly.

"She's in the bathroom upstairs," she said to him as he walked up to her. "She didn't do anything too embarrassing, thankfully, but she looked really upset when she ran off."

Eddie nodded to her and started up the staircase, going two steps at a time. Even with all the people who had come and gone all night, the house felt incredibly empty to him. The same cream colored walls and carpet felt ever present in all of these new-construction-suburban-paradise type houses and Eddie didn't like them one bit. Something about the faux sincerity of it all left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he wondered how anyone could find all of this coldness appealing. Maybe he was biased, seeing as he was only welcome in these houses when he was upcharging freshmen at their first high school house parties, but he could almost feel the structure itself silently judging him.

God, he really needed to get you out of here as quickly as possible.

It took a couple of guesses, but he did eventually find the bathroom door. He knocked, though the force of his knuckles against the wood pushed the unlatched door open just enough for him to be able to see you on the floor, with your back leaned against the sink and your knees pulled up close to you chest.

You definitely looked worse for the wear, that was for sure. Robin was right, you had been crying, and it left angry black streaks running down your face from your eye makeup. Eddie walked in carefully and gently shut the door behind before sitting down on the floor next to you. You didn't look up at him, and instead chose to keep your eyes firmly trained on the little springy door stopper attached to the wall.

"I didn't call you," you said with a pout.

"I know," Eddie said. "Robin did. asked me to come get you."

"I didn't call you on purpose," you reiterated. Your voice was gruff and strained. "I don't wanna see you."

That struck Eddie right in his chest, though he knew that it was most likely just the tequila talking. You were very drunk, and come morning, you two would be back to being best friends again.

"Why don't you wanna see me?" Eddie asked with the slightest smirk. Now that he knew you weren't hurt, he was able to find just the tiniest bit of amusement in the situation.

"Because you're mean to me," you grumbled. You burrowed yourself into a somehow even smaller ball and did your best to turn away from him, though you had little success.

"How am I mean to you?" Eddie asked. He definitely wasn't mean to you; he would do literally anything in his power to make you happy.

"Because you're too pretty and you're too nice to me," you said. Eddie was instantly hung up on the fact that you called him pretty. You were drunk, not thinking straight, so you probably didn't actually think he was pretty, Eddie reasoned to himself. He pushed the thought right out of his head and moved on.

"I'm nice to you," he questioned. "And that makes me mean?"

"You're too nice." You turned to look at him through droopy, half shut eyes. They were rimmed with red. "You're not 'friend' nice, you're 'more than a friend' nice, but I know you don't mean it, and it's mean."

There was a sharp bite in your voice and Eddie didn't know how to respond. Did 'more than a friend' nice mean that he was nicer than a friendly acquaintance, or did it mean that he was nice in the way two people who are more than friends would be with one another?

"Do you want me to be 'more than a friend' nice?" Eddie asked without thinking.

"Not if you don't mean it," you responded.

"But what if I did mean it?" All of Eddie's better judgment had been thrown out the window at this point. Maybe he was taking advantage of you inebriation, that you would give him the truth because of it, but in this moment all he could think about was the fact that he had been pining after you for months thinking it would never amount to anything. Now it might be amounting to something and he had, he just had, to know.

"You're making fun of me!" you said. You dropped your face into your arms.

"I'm not, really! I just," Eddie cut himself off with a sigh. You were drunk. Nothing he could say would really get through to you, and even if it were to, you weren't going to remember any of this in the morning. If he thought about it, maybe that was a good thing. "Look, let's just get you home, okay?"

You grumbled some in protest, but didn't try to wriggle out of Eddie's grasp as he led you down the stairs and out to the van. He got you settled in the passenger seat before getting into the driver's side and starting the car. He kept the music turned down low, knowing your head was most likely already pounding, and rolled down the front two windows.

The cool night air whipped through the cabin of the vehicle. You shut your eyes and turned your face towards it. It had been hot, so hot, in that house, and you seemed more than happy to be out in the cold autumn evening. Eddie lived much closer than you did, and he knew your parents would be less than thrilled about you staggering inside at three in the morning, so he elected to bring you back to his place. He could just sleep on the floor.

He helped you out of the car and inside. You struggled to toe off your shoes, though you eventually got them off and tossed them haphazardly against the door with a thud.

Once he got you standing on your own, he quickly realized just how drunk you actually were. You kept your eyes closed as you swayed into his bathroom and Eddie was worried that you'd fall and hit your head on the sink or something; The last thing he needed was to have to take you to the ER. He was already on thin ice with your parents as it was, and getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night would absolutely cement their dislike for him. You hadn't thrown up or anything (at least, as far as he knew), so that was good, but Eddie knew you had definitely pushed yourself way too hard.

He wondered if you had been roped into some drinking game or something. Your competitive nature and poor impulse control made you much too good at them.

You'd been quiet since Eddie had lifted you up off the bathroom floor, but as you slumped down on top of his sheets, still in your jeans, you spoke up again.

"I'm sorry," you said, eyes closed.

"It's okay," Eddie reassured you. "I'm more than happy to come and save you whenever you need me to."

"And I mean what I said." You were muffled against his pillows, but Eddie still heard you.

"What, about me being mean to you?"

"No." You turned to face him and your big, watery eyes were enough to crush his heart. You sat back up and started to sway a bit. Eddie put a hand on you arm to keep you steady, and realized just how close the two of you were to each other. Your shoulders were turned inwards as you leaned in even closer, though he was sure it couldn't have been on purpose. "About you being pretty. You're really very pretty."

If you hadn't been completely plastered, Eddie would have kissed you right then and there.

[tenjiiku]

1995 / i do

6k words

masterlist | next

“I’m never going to trust a man ever again! Never! Never in a million years!”

A woman wails to two of her friends in an empty ramen shop during a chilly Winter night in November. Said ramen shop was aptly named Minano Ramen, a few miles away from Minano Station, Saitama. Said woman had no correlation to the location (as she was a bona fide country-bumpkin, hailing from somewhere in Nagano), nor to the type of provisions being sold at the aforementioned ramen shop (she was in a committed relationship to whole wheat and everything which came from it). Still, her company grounded her — which is why said woman, Amaya Bando, persisted under such shoddy circumstances.

You, being one of Amaya’s closest accomplices, gently pat her back as she lounges across half of the dining table. Her blouse was an utter disaster, and her hair was in an even more uncanny state of disarray. Being as you were sitting in the stool next to her, you were in charge of physical comfort for the night: The Good Cop. Your friend, the owner of the family-owned Minano Ramen shop, Umeko, was overseeing the harsh, motivational talks — as she was across the counter from both of you, wiping down dishes to close up for the night: The Bad Cop.

“Amaya-chan, you will sprain a muscle exerting yourself like this,” you coo, ever-so-softly, gently running a hand through the woman’s chestnut coloured hair.

“So be it! It will just be another tragedy added to the list that is my life! What is one more, anyway!?”

“You’re turning red,” Umeko coolly interjects, passing a glass of ice cold water to the hysterical young woman, “calm down before you burst a blood vessel.”

Amaya, sniffling, finally lifts her head from the counter. She is, indeed, flushed in the face. Her nose is an almost violent shade of burgundy — and she blows it once more in the handkerchief you hand her. Your brows furrow and your lips pout. You did not like seeing your friend like this, even if she currently resembled a spider monkey.

“I just thought—,” a gulp of water, an exhausted moan, “I just thought Sota would—would be the one, you know?”

“For fuck’s sake— he made you pay on the first date. I’m glad he left you.” The Bad Cop chastises.

“You deserve someone so much better, Maya-chan,” The Good Cop consoles.

Amaya’s eyes fill with tears. She opens her mouth — presumably to resume shrieking — but nothing leaves. A few seconds pass just like this, her mouth gaping and her teardrops escaping her eyes to fall on her flushed cheeks.

“You think she’s paralyzed?”

“Umeko— you… don’t say that. She’s upset.”

“Over Sota…”

“Yeah, so?” Umeko shoots you a look which screams ‘Are you serious?’ which makes you snort and murmur a quiet, “What?”

“Sota.”

“I know Maya-chan’s ex-boyfriend’s name, Umeko.”

“The man with the receding hairline. Who made our dear Maya-chan take the bus home — knowing he had a car — from their first date. Which she paid for, by the way.”

Amaya chokes and you jump at the sound, gently patting her back and shooting Umeko a stern glance. Umeko only snatches the napkin you scrunch in your hand away from you and walks away into the back, presumably to throw it out. Or leave you and Amaya to your lonesomes. That too was a possibility.

“Why do you care so damn much about who and who didn’t pay on the first date?!” Amaya hollers, suddenly gaining the strength of twenty bulls when being on the receiving end of Umeko’s cold indifference.

Before you can interject, the woman is already returning to the bar, hot on her heels. You open your mouth — but, like Amaya, excluding the frenzy — nothing falls out.

“That should have been a sign! No good man would have taken you on such a shitty date. And what do you do? Call him an hour after you return home and tell him you had a good time! A good time! Your socks were soaked from the downright torrential rain for god’s sake!”

“Umeko—”

“Yeah?! Well— I—I’m a nice woman! Unlike you! I—I see the good in people. And Sot—So—… whatever-his-name, he—he did many good things after!”

“Amaya—”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Ume—”

“He—He bought me flowers! Took—Took me on other dates that he—he did pay for, by the way! Since money is everything to you!”

You sigh shakily into your cup of coffee and lean your cheek against your palm, grinning when you receive a message notification on your phone.

>> (19:00) Where are you?

“Yeah, he bought you chrysanthemums! You’re allergic to chrysanthemums! He basically tried to kill you!”

“Why—Why are you so mean?!”

“Why are you defending the man who dumped you to be with someone else?!”

A silence befalls the shop after Umeko’s last statement. The two women engaged in the for-some-reason argument recline into themselves. Peering up at them, you shake your head before sending a reply to the message you received moments ago.

>> (19:02) Minano’s. Witnessing Ume and Maya in a brawl. Got off work?

“I think we can all agree here that Sota is the real McCoy of dickheads. And I think we can also agree that Amaya is much too beautiful and kind hearted for half of Earth’s population — and that Umeko can use Benadryl.”

A huff escapes Umeko’s lips and she runs a hand through her dyed yellow-blond hair. Amaya snorts a laugh, snot escaping her nose and the last of her tears pouring from her eye. You squint a little at the sight, and take a tissue from the rusted napkin dispenser to hand it to her.

It is a peaceful quiet for a few seconds. Then Amaya asks, her voice strained with a hint of pure amusement tinted between, “What the hell does being the real McCoy mean?”

“The saying originates from Elijah McCoy. Quite a famous inventor in the late 1800s, owned many patents after a bunch of dupes followed his name.”

Umeko guffaws at your statement. She looks at Amaya. “Can you believe she’s the one in a committed relationship between the three of us?”

You snicker and smile smugly to yourself, with Amaya letting out a chortle of her own. She sighs, scooting her stool closer to yours to rest her head on your right shoulder. You pet her cheek with your left hand, the other holding your phone open.

“Where’d you find such a man like Rin?” Amaya sighs gently, nuzzling into the sherpa of your coat.

Umeko sets down the last bowl on the counter before leaning against it, elbows propped up as she sneaks a glance towards your phone screen. She leans closer, seemingly also wanting to know the answer.

“Find? They’d been attached to the hip since university. If anything, he wouldn’t leave,” Umeko teases. You grin shyly and shrug your shoulders, careful not to exert the gesture and disturb Amaya’s newfound calmness.

“Yeah,” you murmur, “I just got lucky.” Turning towards Amaya you lightly pinch the fat of her cheek, “It’s about to run out. I can feel it.”

The low lighting of the bar sets Amaya’s piqued expression so naturally — it was as though it were her instinctual reaction to everything.

“You’re just a perpetual pessimist. I’d be willfully ignorant and quiet if I were you. Evil eye is a thing, you know.”

“Since when did you become so spiritual?” Umeko retorts.

“Since my ex stole ¥11,000 from my shoebox and left without sparing so much of a goodbye in the middle of the night.”

Umeko and you still for a few seconds. It is so silent you can hear the bellowing of the snow outside the shop. Then, Umeko murmurs, very quietly, “The hell? You never told us that. That’s a crime.”

“It’s fine… he left his Grand Seiko watch.. I bet it will fetch a good price.”

You grin and Umeko huffs. “Good girl, Amaya.”

The chime of the door opening alerts the three of you. Though the closed sign was turned, the establishment remained unlocked. No one had ever dared come inside when the patio lights were off. At least, not until now. The sight of the person at the door, however, pains a pleasant smile on your face. You hop off of the stool, not without a groan from Amaya who has to resume laying on the cold marble of the bar table, wrapping your arms around your body to adjust your coat.

“Yo, Itoshi, we’re closed.” Umeko’s voice hollers from across the shop. Rin grins at the statement, and it grows when you approach him.

“Hello, Honda-san, Bando-san.” he greets formally, taking your purse with his free hand and adjusting it to fit into the crook of his elbow, where his briefcase rests. The side of his mouth lifts as he looks down at you — adjusting the collar of his peacoat.

“It’s Amaya, Rin-kun. A-ma-ya.” The half-drunk woman slurs into her mug of beer. You shoot Rin a teasing smile, making him apprehensively run a hand through his hair and loosen his wool scarf — a bright neon pink colour — which you bought him as a joke years ago, but for whatever reason he wears consistently through the cold season.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper to him as Umeko and Amaya argue on the latter’s alcohol tolerance — or, lack thereof. You place your warm hands on his cheeks, turning his face left and right as you look for any imperfections.

“I was in the neighbourhood. I thought you knew?”

Rin murmurs in the low voice you like so much — the one that leaks in the bedroom. Your eyes widen and you look up, meeting his roguish gaze. You subconsciously cross your legs and shyly adjust your hair and pencil skirt, looking down at your sore feet clad in heels.

“I—I didn’t think you were this close.”

And he really was not. His office was a good twenty minutes away from Minano Station, by train. Thirty, if you consider the harsh Winter blizzard and Friday night traffic. But if Rin Itoshi was anything, he was your overzealous lover.

“I wanted cheesecake,” he says, so casually deflecting your onslaught of guilt. It never hits you. He never lets it.

You laugh at this softly, shaking your head. He leans into your one hand that still cups his cheek and you can feel his smile against your skin.

“Your hair is a mess.” You mutter, bending down to meet his eye.

“You look very pretty.” He replies instantly, making you flustered all over again. Rin has gotten better with pouring out compliments in recent years. It still takes you aback each time you are the receiving end of them.

An obnoxious cry breaks the two of you out of the daze you find yourselves in. You turn to find Amaya glaring at you with disgust, then looking towards Umeko.

“Blah! If you both are going to be in love and whatnot, please do so with a five kilometre distance away from me.” She utters and Umeko resumes to bicker with her regarding what constitutes as too much beer to consume in one sitting for a four foot one woman in her late twenties.

Rin looks at you, confused. He bends down a little bit, to accommodate for the strain you put into your neck. You feel the side of your mouth twitch. You can practically see his tail wagging.

“Breakup. Sota is an asshole.” You explain. Rin hums.

“I never liked him. He tried getting me to invest in Worldcom. Its trajectory is not looking good.”

Amaya, still listening in on your conversation and tuning out Umeko’s incessant lecture, sits up as straight as a brick.

“What? So Sota’ll lose money?” She inquires.

Rin sighs, taking his hand to rest around your shoulder and nodding. “If he still holds, definitely.”

Amaya makes a sound between a choke and a laugh and simultaneously claps her hands. She leans back in her chair and you quickly step forward to catch it — Rin being pulled with you.

“Umeko-chan, keep the celebratory drinks coming!” The woman cheers loudly, chugging her empty mug and presenting it to the tired woman across the counter. Said woman sighs exasperatedly — turning her gaze to Rin and yourself.

“You two should leave. Amaya is an obnoxious drunk and I don’t want to ruin the eve of your 30th birthday.”

You giggle at this, and turn your eyes to Rin. You ask him mentally — “Should we?”. And he gives an answer by positioning your purse and his bag — “We should.”

“Alright. Maya-chan, drink responsibly.” You murmur, placing a kiss on Amaya’s temple. She hisses so you take a step back. You nod towards Umeko. “Umeko, take care.”

“Yeah, yeah. You better send us photos of the celebration tomorrow.” She answers, furrowing her eyebrows when Amaya raises her mug and slurs gibberish on simultaneously wanting to be loved and to be a cat.

As Umeko ushers you both out, the door chimes softly, signalling the end of the raucous camaraderie. The cold night air greets you once again as you step onto the snowy streets, your hand held tightly in Rin’s. Neon lights cast ephemeral shadows on the white canvas beneath your feet, creating a surreal ambiance. Rin’s touch provides a comforting anchor in the quietude of the night. The city, wrapped in its wintry silence, seemed to only amplify the tenderness exchanged.

“You’re so warm…” you whisper to Rin.

“Am I?” He mumbles, his voice deep and smooth. It sends shivers up your spine, “You’re making me incredibly nervous, dressed like that.”

A wind blows by. You blame the sudden gust of cold for the sudden rigidness you find yourself experiencing.

“Rin…” You mumble, hiding your face in his forearm.

He only laughs, and stops walking when the two of you are under a street lamp. Opening your eyes, you find him in front of you — looking as though you have a treasure he desires. He takes your cheek in one hand, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into it, placing a kiss against the expanse of his thumb, and you giggle when you see a sudden redness develop on his face and earlobes.

“I love you.” He murmurs, leaning down to capture your cold lips with his warmer ones. You sigh, content at the warmth and the fluttering feeling travelling up and down your frames

When the two of you part, your whisper to him — a want, a need, something you have never received from anyone before. Until him.

“Never leave me.”

When Rin smiles, you know you are safe.

“Always.”

.

.

.

Five minutes after you arrive home, you vomit the contents of Minano Ramen Shop in a spectacularly violent fashion. In the quaint washroom you currently are in — still in your work clothes and with Rin in his half undone peacoat — resides two toothbrushes in a Miffy cup Rin bought for you for Christmas, a poster of the album cover of The Bangles, All Over The Place which the two of you found venturing small thrift shops in the corners of Shinjuku and pencil marks on the door frame — measuring your height for the last two years, bi-monthly (you have only grown half a centimetre. Rin has grown five.)

“Oh, love.” Rin mutters, holding your hair back as you clutch the toilet seat for dear life. You cringe at the smell, tear up and sniffle, then resume emptying the contents of your stomach — unwillingly, “I’m here. Let it out.”

Rin is very patient. You hang your head low, tears soaking your face. You do not want to see what you look like in the mirror. Probably anything but pretty. You can sense Rin bend down onto the soft bathroom mat beside you, massaging your shoulder and running a comforting, large hand down your back.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Yeah, I—I think,” you gag before you can finish your sentence — and continue vomiting. Rin stays with you, his gentle voice acting as an anchor to ground you.

The whole ordeal lasts nearly a minute — but it felt like one hundred million years to you. By the end of it, Rin is carrying you to your shared one bedroom as you slur your words of protest.

“I can walk, Rin. I puked food… I think. Not blood. So I’m not dying.”

“You talk too much for a sick person.”

“I’m not sick,” you say, holding back another gag when you smell the remnants of vomit on your chin. Rin lays you down on your queen-sized bed, magically pulling wet wipes from his person and cleaning your face off. It is scary how overly attentive he can be at times. You were convinced he possessed psychic abilities for the first few months you started going out. Unfortunately, to your dismay, he was simply born with an innate sense of observation skills.

“Stay here.” He orders you, like you are a wet dog. He stands from his crouched position, and you feel much too dizzy to follow as he leaves the room.

He enters with a thermometer. You grunt.

“Rin… this is ridiculous.”

Of course, he does not listen to your demands. Hooking his index finger and thumb to your chin, he gestures for you to open it. You obey, of course — because you are hoping this attentiveness of his will stay after he is done this checkup of his.

“Your temperature is fine…” He murmurs, gazing down at the device. He looks up at your tear-stained face and his lips twitch, “I will go brew some tea.”

Anyway, he is gone again — and far be it for you to divert him from his rigid mind. You lay there, roughly for five minutes. You wonder if Rin is preparing anything else for you other than tea. You would not put it past him. Something possesses you when you are left to yourself, though. It has been happening for the past few weeks. A sudden intuition or shift in your brain — it tells you: ‘Something is wrong. Something is not right.’

You don’t know what exactly drives you to take a pregnancy test. You just turn your head to your bedside table, open the drawer, and see the plastic bag from the pharmacy. You picked up medicine for your frequent headaches and nausea, but, as stated previously — something possesses you when you are left alone. And, at that moment, it drove you to purchase some pregnancy tests. Plural, because this Thing is quite persuasive and nagging.

Rin returns to the bedroom, a tray with miso soup, warm rice, a cup of jasmine tea and leftover mackerel from this morning in his hands. He does not find you there. He calls for you, with no answer.

“Honey?”

A sound from the bathroom catches his attention. He places the tray on the bedside table, coming to you.

“Darling! What are you—”

You sit on the toilet seat, your hands shaking as you hold one of the tests in your hand. Your eyes are wide, and Rin sees it before you even have to tell him. He falls to his knees in front of you, bracing you by placing his hands on your thighs.

“It’s positive, Rin,” your voice is soft and weak. You can make out the sound among the ringing of your ears, “Am I losing my mind? Are you real?”

“Y/n…” Rin’s voice is even more gone. He opens his mouth, then opens it again. You can hear the tremble in his tone, “Is this real?”

You sniffle and your voice is wrecked as you whimper out, “What? Why are you asking me? I peed on the stupid thing and now it’s saying this. You think this is a sick prank?” You lightly hit Rin at the chest with your hands, but by the fifth swing he is bracing your wrists and looking up at your tear filled eyes with a pair of his own.

“Rin…” you feel your feet grow numb, and the ringing grows louder and louder, “I’m pregnant.”

.

When you were young — you would guess around seven or eight — you had a neighbour, Sana-san, who had a new man over everyday. Or, every night. You would watch her greet them from your parent’s bedroom’s terrace — typically around dinner time. Mama never let you watch television shows around 6:00 pm, so you resorted to watching your very own live reality show.

One particular evening, when papa was working overtime, and after watching Sana-san greet a man — who looked no older than 23 — with a hug and a kiss and a smile, you find yourself seeking out mama who cuts small chunks of potato directly into the hotpot. You only reach her hip, but you manage to fetch your stool so you can reach the counter height and observe as she makes your favourite beef curry.

“Mama,” You ask as she goes to wash her hands, “Why does Sana-san have so many husbands?”

Mama makes a sound between a choke and a grunt. You see her back stiffen and her hairs stand up. She turns to you, and in the softest voice she can manage, she explains to you.

“They—They are not her husbands, kitten.”

“But I saw her kissing them.”

“Where?! Where did you see that?”

“From the terrace. Every time I feed Inari.”

The stressed woman buries her face in the palms of her hands. You tilt your head, and follow her as she gestures to you outside the kitchen. Was she upset that you housed a bush warbler, whom you named Inari? You sit on the couch, as she crouches you in front of you with her apron still on.

“Kitten…” she starts, “Listen to me, Sana-san is a… very peculiar woman. She has her own ordeals and I have mine. I only have papa and she… she chooses to have many lovers.”

“Lovers? What does that mean?”

“It’s in the name. Someone you love. They are your lover.”

You hum at the explanation, then smile widely, “I want to be like Sana-san when I grow up. She has so many of them.”

Mama’s eyes widen the size of saucers, and she clasps your hands on her own. You flinch at the sudden movement.

“Kitten!” She blurts. You tilt your head.

“What?”

“You don’t— You shouldn’t strive for that. I mean, it’s nice, you’re right — she has many… many lovers. But it is even more special if you have one true lover that will stay with you forever and ever — like your Prince Charming. Right?”

You look into mama’s eyes. She seems tense. Strange, considering most of the time she is very much composed. It must be important, then, that you take her word for this situation. Though Sana-san seemed delighted every night, you were never the early bird — so you never saw her expression when her lover for the night would leave in the morning. Was Sana-san aware that they were going to leave? If she knew, how did she manage to say goodbye? Would she even get the chance to if they left without saying anything?

The possibilities all send an unpleasant feeling in your stomach. You want to eat curry and forget about it.

“I guess so…”

And that was it — at least for the night.

The next month, you saw Sana-san for the last time. She had come over, actually. You remember mama telling you to go upstairs when the woman came. But, being the sneaky seven or eight year old you were, you managed to hide yourself around the corner of your living room. You recall seeing Sana-san sob into her hands, and mama holding her small frame. You’d never seen Sana-san cry — not like this, not in general. The woman seemed so much smaller to you at that moment. You did not know what she was crying about, until you were thirteen and were running errands with your mother when you asked in the chip aisle — casually and erratically.

“She got pregnant. Her.. partner at the time wasn’t pleased. Neither were her parents. She moved to Australia, to live with her Grandmother.”

You swore to yourself from that day forward, you would never allow yourself to ever be in Sana-san’s place — even if you had to let go of everything good in life.

.

But you were a naive thirteen year old. You acted like you were thirty at that age. Now that you are twenty nine — you are acting as though you are nine again. Maybe living with your debilitated grandmother would be better than finding out you are pregnant with snot and vomit covering your shirt.

“Y/n.” Rin calls for you, squeezing your hands, “Everything will be okay. This is… it’s all alright. At least, it is to me.”

“You’re fine with this?” You ask, and your voice is drenched in anxiety and an unfamiliar rawness.

“Of course.” Rin expresses, looking down to meet your eyes when you lower your face to avoid his, “Are you?”

“I—I’m going to be a mother, Rin.” You whimper, “You—You’re going to be a father.”

The sudden realisation hits you — and it feels like a million pounds descend on top of you, not giving you any room to breathe. You feel terrified yet ecstatic, all at once. The beginning of an end.

“Oh—Oh,” you fall into Rin’s embrace, and he holds you — all of you, the dirty bits and emotional parts.

“I’m right here,” he whispers, “I love you.”

Through your sobs and whines, you murmur a small anxiety which makes Rin laugh and you feel alright.

“I drank black coffee. An hour ago. What if they’re hurt?”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” He whispers, and you feel a wetness fall on the top of your head, “We’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.”

.

.

.

The next morning and late into the afternoon, you decide to take on the role of an interviewer, with Rin being your more than willing subject.

Brushing your teeth together in the one bathroom you have in your shared apartment, staring at each other’s features — trying to see which one falls first:

“What if—What if my feet start to swell? And my boots don’t fit anymore? I’ve heard that happens…”

“We can buy new boots, love.”

Rin, frying an egg for you on the stove as you stir your cup of coffee again and again and again with a spoon — as though your milk and espresso could be anymore amalgamated. The pigeons you shelter in the heated house you impulsively spent two weeks salary on — when you stumbled upon one shivering in the corner of the building entrance — chirping a morning melody for you in the snow-covered balcony. Brrr brrr brrr:

“Where will the—the,” your voice becomes a whisper, as though you are uttering a profanity or a strange secret, “baby,” then it returns to its normal tone, “sleep for the first few months?”

“With us, of course.”

“What if I smack their face? You know I’m a violent sleeper.”

Rin brings you your egg in one hand, and in the other, a bowl of freshly cut strawberries. He places a kiss on your forehead when he leans down towards you, “I am pretty sure there are beds for newborns we can look into to prevent that from happening.”

Standing, frozen, in the food bar of the grocery store — eyeing today’s special: sashimi. Rin directly behind you, reading the discount of chocolate chip cookies — 2 for the price of 1!:

“I am not allowed to eat raw fish. I—I shouldn’t. Well, I don’t know. Mama ate it all the time when she was pregnant with me. I turned out fine, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Rin murmurs, holding your hand but not turning around, making his arm bend in an uncompromising manner, “You turned out beautifully.”

You turn your head to Rin, then back to the sashimi, then back to Rin. You walk up next to him, and wrap your two hands around his forearm, resting your head against his bicep.

“I will eat tempura.” You mumble, and without looking, he pets your cheek as he reads the sale written on the sign.

And, the present — as the two of you sit side-by-side in your childhood bedroom, on your twin-sized bed that still has the same sheets on it as you left it (washed, you hope, if your overzealous mother remained overzealous enough):

Only a lamp is on. Its golden hue sets a peaceful tone. The window is open, the curtains bellowing at the cold Winter breeze filters through the wires. This was your sanctuary for so many years — until you left for university. You shared so many memories in this room, and now your unborn child… (Fetus? Really, what should you refer to them as at this stage? They must be not even the size of an edamame seed) resides in the same room you had your first kiss in.

You sit quietly, just like this. You can feel Rin observing you, as he always does. Except, unlike all of the other times, he gives you your space — room to act as unadulterated as you please.

Your mouth opens, and you can feel your lips tremble when you hear your mother and Rin’s laugh with one another about the wilted tulips outside, on the porch.

“I— we have to tell… our parents.” You say, your voice the quietest it has been today, “Just in case… in case anything happens. They’ll… They’ll have to find out eventually— if—if that happens, right?”

Rin has your left hand in his lap. He holds it with both of his, gently massaging the skin. He picks it up, and places a small kiss, before returning it to rest on his thigh.

“Nothing will happen. But, you’re right. We should tell them, preferably before you start to show. It would be a little… awkward if that were to happen.”

You laugh, and you cannot help but let a few tears leave your eyes. You turn your face to Rin’s, urging him to hold you. He obliges, and runs his thumb across your under-eye to catch your tear before it falls. You cannot believe how hormonal you are already starting to act. You are apprehensive on finding out how you will completely and utterly change as a woman — as a human being — for the months to come.

“Papa is out buying me a cake, right now. And his unmarried daughter is pregnant. God.” You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Is that what you are worried about? Having a child out of wedlock?”

You snort, “Out of wedlock? What are we? In the 80s?”

“Darling.” Rin whispers, and damn him for calling you that — because he knows you like it so much, “If that is what you are worried about… it’s trivial.”

You are hormonal and cranky and pregnant, so, obviously you flip out on him over a very rational statement with no hidden undertones.

“What? How is that trivial you bastard? Are you going to be a deadbeat father— only visit during holidays and their birthday, is that it—”

Rin cuts you off — shuts you up, for a lack of a better term — with a suggestion so out of left field it almost makes you jump.

“I want to—I want to marry you, Y/n.” He starts, his voice louder than it was before, “And… And I want you to want me to marry you, too.”

For a few seconds, you say nothing. You just stare at him, as the moonlight behind you paints him in an evanescent glow. For a moment you think you are looking at an apparition from a dream. But Rin looks at you — and he looks at you with all the seriousness of a thousand men.

“You propose like this? When I look so hideous?” You say, your voice weak.

“You never look hideous. Ever. For as long as I’ve known you.” Rin mutters, getting off of your twin bed to only bend down on one knee in front of you. His hand plays with the hem of the dress you wear. He kisses the tips of your fingers, each one, looking up into your eyes.

“You—You are serious about this.”

“I am always with you. You know this, more than anyone.”

You feel your breath hitch. You feel the urge to hold him. Do something to sedate this uneasiness within you. So you mutter a half-brained statement, successfully pushing this off of you.

“You… Grandma does not even know who you are. Neither do any of my distant cousins. We—We’d have to let them know, too. Right?”

Rin pauses. His eyes widened. Your lips tremble as he cups your right cheek.

“Is that a yes?”

“I—There’s so many—There’s so many things to take into consideration—,” you start. But Rin does not let you finish this time.

“I know,” he says, voice low and you feel the thousands of pounds lift from your frame. “But is that a yes?”

.

You hold Rin’s hand as the two of you make it downstairs to the living room. You adjust your dress, and Rin his tie. You make sure to stop in front of a mirror to wipe the remnants of red off of Rin’s lips. He only smiles down at you — almost as though he is proud of the current situation.

Really. What the hell was I thinking? Having sex with my parents downstairs, in the bedroom I used to play dolls in. What type of answer is that to someone’s proposal?

“Sweetheart,” you jump when Rin’s father and yours appear from thin air. You instinctively grab onto Rin’s forearm, and his hair falls on his face when he bows to greet your father. The man in turn only holds a hand out, and Rin stands up straight again.

“Happy birthday,” Rin’s father smiles at you, holding out an envelope. Your eyes widen.

“Otousan… you shouldn’t have…”

What leads from that conversation is a lot of back-and-forth. What the etiquettes one should follow on someone’s birthday are — even those who may be close to the birth haver. Your father rehashing his thirties, with Rin’s father going into vivid detail about all of the spicy details and drama which enfolded in the University of Tokyo, where he was taking his masters.

By the time your fathers let the two of you be, your feet are already sore.

“It’s starting, already.” You sigh dramatically, and you can’t help but giggle at Rin’s expression.

“Relax, honey. My feet are just sore. I’m not giving birth at this instant.”

Rin’s eyes widen even more, and he looks around him to make sure no one is listening. He knocks his forehead against yours.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbles, low, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips.

“Keep it in your pants, Itoshi.” You bite back, kissing his cheek. He places a hand on your hip, but before you can even start, a tired voice speaks up behind Rin.

“Still seeing my brother, huh?”

Rin turns and you watch his face drop. You grin and step in front of him.

“You ask that every year, Sae-san.”

“And every year I hope to hear another answer,” The red-haired man retorts. You shake your head as Rin and him start to argue amongst themselves.

Hearing a knock at the front door, you excuse yourself to fetch it.

“I’ll get that.” You say, leaving Rin and his brother to fight in your living room — you have learned you can lead a horse to water but cannot make it drink.

You were not expecting anything when you opened the door. It could be a few other family friends mama invited. You were happy and you were content. You had a loving family, a loving partner, and a cake awaiting your arrival.

But, when you turn the door and your eyes meet the man who stands there — the same as he left you — you are suddenly nineteen again, and going through the first heartbreak of your life.

“Long time no see star-girl,” he says, a nickname you have not heard in nine years.

“Yoichi…”

You were right, last night — your luck was beginning to run out.

[girlwiththepapatattoo]

A Bit of Aid

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Pairing: Halsin/Female Reader

Warnings: smut, masturbation, vaginal fingering, praise, bad puns, Astarion being a little shit

Summary: A friend offers you some help.

Notes: This is going to be a PROPER ONE SHOT. (I'm telling this mostly to myself. *wags finger at my own brain*)

Anyway, I've had this mental image in my head for like two weeks and had to get it out. I hope you enjoy <3

Read on Ao3 here!

///////////////////////////////

You lean back against the tree, your face scrunched in frustration. The cool night breeze brushes over the beads of sweat at your hairline, on your neck, making you shiver softly. You pull your hand out of your pants, wiping your fingers in the grass and muttering a very heartfelt, “Fuck,” under your breath. 

It’s been a week and a half since you escaped the nautoloid, waking up with an unwanted passenger behind your eye. 

A week and half, and you’ve built up a group of similarly afflicted people, and a druid you saved from a goblin camp. 

A group of very attractive people.

Now, you were far from a prude, but being surrounded by some of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen in your life is intimidating. Especially when you’ve always felt yourself as being painfully middle-of-the-road. 

And being surrounded by the most attractive people you’ve ever seen in your life is making your active libido scream at you. 

Back home in Baldur’s Gate, before you were snatched up into literal hell, you’d always get yourself off at the very least a few times a week. It was good for your mood and body alike. 

But that was when you were in the quiet safety of your own home. Trying to touch yourself while you’re in a thin-walled tent while those gorgeous people sleep mere feet away is too nerve-wracking to contemplate. 

And so, you’d decided to sneak away for some well earned alone time. Once everyone but Halsin (who volunteered for first watch) had gone to bed, you snuck out of camp and trekked probably half a mile into the forest. After making sure you were alone, you’d sat down at the base of a tree, loosened your belt, unlaced your pants, and shoved your hand into your smalls. 

Almost an hour later, you give up. It turns out that stressing out over the very real possibility of sloughing off your current form to become part of a tentacled hive mind, nearly dying several times at the hands of goblins, and are now facing a trip down into the Underdark, doesn’t make for an easy time getting off. 

Who knew?

And so you sit there against the tree, deciding to wait out the arousal swirling in your gut, to wait out the rather insistent throbbing in your clit, and once you were back to your default state to just go to bed. You exhale through your nose in annoyance, wanting nothing more than to feel that sweet, beautiful-

“Ah, there you are.” 

Your eyes shoot open in terror. You hear Halsin’s voice, his footsteps approaching through the trees, and you scramble to do up your belt at least, so he doesn’t suspect. 

He steps around the tree just as your hands leave your belt, and he quirks an eyebrow down at your red-face, at the way you’re not quite meeting his eyes. “Are you well? You didn’t come back to camp after you left, so I got worried.” 

“O-Oh, no, I’m fine, Halsin,” you stammer, trying your best to give him a friendly smile. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came out to…think.” 

“To think.” He tilts his head a little. “I understand the appeal of having a private spot, but the middle of the night in these woods is more dangerous than you’d suspect.” 

You give a weak smile. “Yeah…sorry for worrying you.” 

Mortified at what he almost caught you doing, you move to stand. But when he crouches before you, smiling in his normal, friendly way… “Would you like some help?” 

You freeze, your eyes locking onto his bright hazel gaze in shock. Did he just…? “Um. What…do you mean? Help with what, standing up? I got it, I promise.” 

He chuckles. “No, no. I mean, help with reaching orgasm.”

You pray that the ground opens you up and swallows you whole. 

“I…” You clear your throat so that more comes out than just a squeak. “W-Why would you…think that I…I wasn’t…” 

His expression is soft, kind. You’re pretty sure that only makes it worse. “Be at ease. There is no shame in desire. For most people, it’s as natural as hunger, as thirst. And there’s no shame in accepting a helping hand…or two. After everything you’ve been through so far, it’s no surprise you’re having trouble on your own.”

Against your will, your eyes flit down to his hands. Thick fingers are laced together between his bent knees as he squats before you, and the thought of what they could do on your flesh makes the hair raise on the back of your neck. You’re suddenly hyper aware of your own body, every inch of skin sensitive. 

“And if you’re worried that I’ll be offended if you say no, you needn’t be.” You look back up at his face in surprise. He gives you a serious look. “I would never touch you without your permission. If you don’t wish my help, say the word and I’ll head back to camp.” 

His words go a long way to reassuring you, and you take a moment to really think about it. It’s been so long since you last had anyone to share an intimate moment with, and you could easily die at any moment. Why shouldn’t you indulge in this man who seems more than willing to help you out? 

You lick your lips. Nerves race through your gut, along with your growing arousal, but you meet Halsin’s eyes. You mean to say something like yes or all right then or hell yes let’s wake up the camp with my screaming, but instead all that comes out is a whispered, “Please…” 

His lips quirk up, his eyes darken even as they flash in delight. “Hm. Please what?” 

His voice has lowered, his customary rumble more pronounced. Your mouth goes dry. “Please…I’d like your help,” you respond. 

“Gladly,” he all but purrs. “Let’s get comfortable then.” He has you move over, and as you shift he pulls his leather vest off. You inhale sharply, your eyes darting over his torso. His shoulder muscles ripple as he lowers himself to sit down with his own back against the tree now. 

What really surprises you though is his body hair. Elves as a whole don’t tend to have hair at all below their heads, but Halsin…his forearms are thick with it, his chest sports a nice patch, and there’s a tantalizing line running from his navel to below his belt. “Gods, you’re gorgeous,” you breathe. 

He chuckles softly. “I’m flattered you think so.” He reaches out a hand to you. “Now, come here to me.” 

Anticipation roils in your gut. You take his hand, warm and calloused and huge. He tugs you over, helping you sit down on his lap, and you gasp as you feel a half-formed erection press against your ass. He rumbles in enjoyment at the sudden friction, tugging you firmly by the hips so that your back is flat against his chest. His cheek presses to yours on your right sight, and his voice vibrates into you, along your back and into your jaw. 

“We’re going to adjust your clothing now. Pull your pants and smalls down for me, hm?” 

His tone is soft and gently encouraging, almost casual, as though he’s teaching you a new skill. It makes you feel desperate to obey. You wriggle your pants and smalls all the way off in your eagerness, which makes him chuckle. His left hand pats your thigh, sending prickles over your flesh. “Lift.” You do, your toes balanced on his knee. He slips that arm under your leg. “Lower, and tuck the toes of both your feet under my knees.” 

You swallow hard at how open this leaves you for him. His thumb caresses your inner thigh almost fondly, which has you breaking out into sensitive shivers. You feel his cheek shift as he smiles. 

“That’s it. Now, pull the hem of your shirt up over your breasts.” 

You do so, taking your bra with it. Your shirt bunches up to your mid-back, and you can feel his belly hair on your skin.

“Mmm, you’re lovely,” he purrs, nuzzling his cheek with yours. His thumb suddenly traces the curve of your breast before his hand cups under it, giving you a soft squeeze, and you shudder hard on his lap and whine his name. “My, my, you are eager aren’t you?” 

He feels your face heat against his cheek. “S-Sorry…it’s been a while,” you whisper.

“Trust me, sweetling, that was not a complaint,” he replies, giving you another soft nuzzle. “I like it. Your desire is as beautiful as you are…” 

He turns his head toward you, and he presses his lips to the side of your neck at the same time the pads of the fingers of his left hand suddenly press between your legs. You gasp loudly, your hips bucking at the touch. “Easy,” he murmurs soothingly against your skin, waiting until you settle. 

You can’t believe how quickly he’s already gotten you dripping. You’ve barely been on his lap a minute, and you’re already desperately turned on. 

His fingers move again, his index and middle fingers parted and rubbing slowly up and down your outer lips. “Fuck,” you gasp out, and he chuckles softly.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had such a mouth on you,” he teases gently. 

You want to say something clever, something that’ll make him laugh that low, sexy laugh again, maybe even something that’ll have his cock twitching in his pants. But words are a bit beyond you right now, and so you very eloquently say, “Hnng.” 

You feel his jaw shift, as though he was going to speak, but he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers make another pass, nice and slow, up and down your outer lips, before gently parting you open. The cool air of the forest on your overheated, slick core has you stifling another curse under your breath. 

His index finger swipes through your slick as the other hand suddenly gives a pinch to your already hardened nipple, and you have to turn your head to stifle a cry into his neck. “Shh, sweetling, I know,” he murmurs, as though he weren’t the one making you lose your mind. He’s so warm behind you, and he smells so good, like the woods and clean sweat. 

He rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, all the while slowly, slowly dragging his touch through your dripping folds. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit. 

“You feel so good,” he rasps as he builds your desire. “So warm and wet for me…One day soon, I would like to take you properly, to feel all this around my cock.” As he finishes his words, the middle finger of his left hand slides slowly into you. You inhale sharply, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head at how good it feels to have someone else’s touch inside you. His finger is thick, nearly twice as wide as your own, and the feel of it makes your hips buck. 

He chuckles softly. “I know, sweetling,” he soothes, pressing a line of gentle kisses up the column of your throat. His right hand gives a soft tug to your nipple, before reaching across your chest to give the other the same treatment. The finger that’s inside you starts to move, gently pumping in and out of you, dragging against your walls…

Curses fall from your lips, muffled into the spot where his throat meets his jawline. You can feel him grin, glad to know that he’s doing a good job.

His right hand leaves your breast, tracing calloused fingertips down over your belly. You shiver hard, wrapping your hand around his bicep as you realize where he’s headed. His fingers slip through the soft hair at the apex of your thighs, down over your mound to your leaking slit. 

The first touch to your clit makes you hiss, and he eases up on his touch, brushing a kiss over your cheek in apology for being too harsh. He gently pets at you, testing, watching your reactions carefully to learn what touches are the best, what gives you the most pleasure. But once he figures it out…

“There we go,” he growls as you moan into his skin, unable to stop the sound that rips from your throat as he works you perfectly. His fingers slide wetly over your engorged clit just the way you like, his other hand pumps two fingers now into your drenched hole, rolling them to hit every sensitive spot you’ve got. You shudder and writhe on his lap, feeling yourself begin to sweat. 

You also feel his cock, fully hard now against your ass. He’s rumbling out soft groans next to your ear as your motions rub yourself on him. “P-Please…please, i-if you want, fuck me now,” you gasp out. 

You feel him growl at your words, and his fingers speed up their pace. “No, not now.” He nips at your ear gently. “Tonight is about you. Besides, I know in my heart if I have you now, your sweet body will be the only thing on my mind. I’ll want to do nothing more than take you, day and night…and we have too much to do for that, I’m afraid.” 

You make some sort of choking/wheezing sound in the back of your throat. You’re pretty sure that’s the sexiest thing anyone’s ever said to you. Your soaked walls clench around his fingers, and he growls again at the feeling. “F-Fuck, you…you can’t just say something like that and then deny me!” you gasp out. 

He chuckles, low and dark. “Apologies, sweetling. One day soon I’ll more than make it up to you. We shall be testing the limits of your stamina…but for now…” 

His fingers speed up, rubbing rapidly over your clit. He adds a third finger, stretching you wide around his massive digits, and you shriek his name. Almost as soon as the sound starts to leave your throat, he turns his head and kisses you deeply, muffling your noise. His tongue plunges into your mouth, tasting of the remnants of supper and something uniquely him, and you eagerly twine your tongue with his. 

You feel it, then, the sudden swoop in your lower belly. Your eyes snap open at the same time he feels your walls begin to flutter around his fingers. Your eyes meet his, those intense hazel orbs sharpening. He pulls away from your mouth, grinning in triumph. “There we go, that’s right…come for me!” 

You throw your head back on his shoulder as your pleasure builds and builds, your hips bucking into his hands. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as, somehow, he speeds up even more, his fingers pounding into your cunt. He growls your name, you choke out his-

-and you nearly arch completely off of him as you explode. You howl your pleasure to the night air, lost completely to the torrent of fire and lightning rushing through your nerves. You barely hear Halsin, whispering encouragements and praise by your ear as he works you through it. “That’s it, sweetling, that’s it, soak my fingers. Oakfather preserve me, you feel so fucking good gripping me like that…” 

So lost you are in the throws of your orgasm you don’t see his eyes flash gold a couple times before he gets himself under control. You just writhe in the circle of his arms as he works you through it. 

When your movements begin to slow, so do his. He floats you gently down, down from the high he’d sent you soaring to just a few moments ago. You shudder and slump against him as he pulls his fingers from you, gasping for breath and shivering as the cool night air caresses over your sweaty skin. 

You hear him grunt suddenly, and you peel your eyes open just in time to watch him begin to lick your juices from his skin. You inhale sharply, your inner walls clenching hard around nothing at the sight of his tongue lapping you from his fingers. You watch, slack-jawed, as he licks every trace of you from his hand, and once he was done he smacks his lips. “You’re delicious,” he purrs, pressing his forehead to yours. “Next time you’d like help, I think I’ll take you apart on my tongue instead.” 

You shudder at his words, thinking about what he could do with that mouth. “K-Keep talking like that and I’ll be ready for round two right now.” 

He chuckles softly, brushing a kiss to your cheek. “Much as I would love to give you another one, we should get you to bed. We depart for the Underdark in the morning-you must get some rest.” He helps you to stand, then from a pocket in his trousers he pulls out a clean rag. 

You blink in surprise as he wipes at you gently, careful not to overstimulate you. “You…brought that with you? How did you know I’d say yes?” you ask, your thighs shaking a bit as he cleans you. 

“I didn’t.” He grins up at you, on his knees before your gently trembling body. “But in my years, I’ve learned that always coming prepared saves a lot of uncomfortable walks.” 

You snort, stifling giggles into your hand as he helps you into your smalls and pants. It’s quiet then as his fingers do up your laces, and then your belt. He gently pulls your shirt back down, tugging it into place, before he smiles softly to you. “If you ever need my help again, don’t hesitate to ask.” 

“Thank you. And I’m sorry for tomorrow morning, when I’ll inevitably be embarrassed that it happened at all,” you say with a soft grin. 

He can’t help but laugh, leaning down and brushing a fond kiss over your forehead. “I hope one day you’ll unlearn the shame. Now, let’s get back to camp.” He sweeps his hand back towards where the rest of your companions are hopefully still slumbering. 

You both walk in silence for a little while, before you pipe up. “Earlier, a little bit before I…finished, I could have sworn you were about to say something.” 

“Hm? Oh, that.” He grins, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’d uh…been having trouble talking through the pleasure. I was going to tease you a little, but the joke I’d settled on may have distracted you from my touch, so I kept it to myself.” 

“Oh?” You couldn’t help the curious, amused look up at him. “What were you going to say?” 

He sighs, looking embarrassed at himself now. “I was going to ask, ‘bear got your tongue’?”

You have to stop to lean against a tree, you're laughing so hard. He huffs at you, but he’s smiling, unable to find it in himself to be upset. You both bicker like old friends as you return to camp, no awkwardness at all between you. 

Of course, when you get back to camp and Astarion is sitting at the fire, obviously waiting for you both, you immediately blush as the vampire smirks knowingly. “Really, Halsin, you were supposed to be on first watch. I didn’t expect dereliction of duty from you.” He stands, languid grace incarnate, and starts to walk back to his tent. “Good thing I was awoken from my trance when something screamed out in the woods. Goodness knows what could have attacked us in our sleep!” 

He sounds of nothing but pure, pleased mischief. You’re left practically steaming in embarrassment, and before Halsin can say anything, you scuttle to your tent and tie yourself in. The huge druid sighs, shaking his head, but he can’t quite get rid of the fond smile on his lips as he settles back in for the rest of his watch. 

[toruro]

hi mika:3 i have an idea slash request (or a thot bcs i wanna here ur input wtv ur more comfy with) thats rotted my brain for like months esp since minghao hosted that expensive ass monthly meeting…. but minghao fucking you on the cold glass windows of the penthouse he paid for for a night or a few overlooking the city 👩‍💻💿

(p.s. ive been waiting to share this idea with u if u opened back up ur requests bcs i wouldnt want to lend it to any other author 😭💋)

mile high club ... ?

pairing. minghao x reader tags. smut (18+ / mdni), fluff w/c. a/n. i almost teared up reading this. i am gutted. the fact that u wanted to share this w me and ME ONLY?!>!? i love u so much :[

you should've known. should've known that your sneaky little fiance was up to something when he gave you that sweet, sweet smile and told you to put on your prettiest dress and your prettiest heels this evening. should've known he was planning on treating you to something a little bit bigger than just dinner.

you're still not sure why it came as a surprise to you when minghao took you by the hand and whisked you away from the restaurant you two had just dined in, and took you on a long drive under the cool night sky.

giggles and looks from the corner of your eyes, you noticed that minghao took you down a road which you didn't recognize as 'on the way home.'

"baby, where're we going?" you asked him lazily. the windows were ajar and the evening winds blew through his black hair as minghao focuses on the road. you grin at the sight, reminding yourself to tell him later to cut his hair less often.

smirking, hao smooths a hand over your bare thigh, caressing the skin with his thumb. "you'll see baby, you'll see."

and see, you most definitely did.

it didn't take long for him to pull up in front of one of the fanciest hotels in downtown, shushing all your questions as he excitedly helped you into the glass elevator that overlooked the city, taking you all the way up to the top floor despite your questions.

"hao, what is this about?" you attempted to ask through muffled giggles as he pressed kisses against your lips as an attempt to keep you quiet.

"just look," he muttered, pulling away so he could key in some code on the final floor. what lay behind the door was the massive layout of the hotel penthouse, large windows that showed off the glittering, buzzing lights of the city around you.

as you make your way to one of the wide glass panes, looking down and over the sight. minghao carefully follows behind as you mutter out words of thanks and praise for finding such a beautiful space ... "so pretty hao, i love it ..."

there he is now, digging his face into your neck as he wraps his arms around you from behind. lips and tongue trace over your shoulder blade as you melt into minghao's arms, head lolling to one side to make it easer for him to reach his favorite spots.

his arm snakes down between your legs, digging under the painfully high cut dress you've got on (minghao says 'painfully high cut' not because it was painful for you but because it made him so fucking hard it hurt).

you moan the second his deft fingers brush over the lacy clothe of your panties, playing with your cute 'n' sensitive clit as your legs begin to lose their stability. and fuck, minghao hadn't even had the chance to slip his tie off before you press your ass over his clothed cock, murmuring about how you gotta have him right now ...

"gotta prep you first baby ..." he tries to mutter in your ear, words drying on his tongue when you press behind and into his crotch harder.

"wan' it now," you whimper, one hand falling forward to press against the cool glass of the windows, the other reaching back to latch onto minghao's and play with the hair at the nape of his neck. so hot and sticky, minghao pressing your head forwards so your cheek's against the glass, hot air blowing steam on the windows ...

clanking of belts and popping of buttons as he quickly shoves his pants down, weeping cock springing out and hitting your ass over your dress ... fuck, your dress. you just look so pretty with your back arching upon his touch, short cloth running higher up your thighs until he can see the peek of your lacy white panties.

minghao just can't hold himself back, the way you call for him so prettily and so he's shoving your dress up 'n' over your ass, scooping one finger through the fabric of your panties so he can yank them to the side ... his cock's leaking all over you by now, precum smearing over the plush skin of your ass.

and with heavy breaths rumbling in his throat, high and breathy whines slipping from yours, minghao slips his throbbing cock into the fluttering walls of your cunt ... hugging hao's fat length so nicely his fingers might burn bruises into your hip from holding too tight (lip sucked between his teeth as he chokes back moans).

his thrusts start quick, each one dragging out of your warm folds slowly before ramming back into you in one go. your body lurches against the window, has pressed against the smooth surface as you try to hold on, try not to lose yourself to the way hao's fucking the life out of you over the city ...

feels so good, and you can't help the way you whimper whenever his skin slaps against yours, firm grip pulling you back into his hips for an other jostling thrust ... "feels s'good baby," hao rasps from behind you, leaning forward to press his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in you scent and watching the view from next to you.

the scene's so pretty and you're moaning his name so cutely when he pounds into you from behind, throttling with every snap of his hips ... tits pressed into the glass as he snakes a hand over your stomach and fuck, hao's so grateful. so fucking grateful, and so he's whispering praise into your ear ... "you're so pretty like this ... pretty thing with a pretty view ..." and it's got your brain buzzing like crazy.

your orgasm is creeping up on you, so best believe you hold on tight. can't have you falling asleep already, right? after all, seeing you all pressed up against the steamy glass has the gears in hao's mind spurring, and you'd be a fool to think he wouldn't fuck you on every surface of the room until your cute cunt's fucked raw and spilling with his cum ...