Summary: You’ve been wanting to mix it up in the bedroom with your boyfriend for a while. With Peter’s powers, that ceiling has been looking awfully tempting…
A/N: in case you can’t visualize it, here’s a link to basically what the position is. and ty to @sa1nt-bambi-cinema for these cute dividers! enjoy!
Friday nights were your favorite. While most of the dorms poured into the halloween parties down the hall, you preferred the quiet of your room. After a week crammed with papers and lectures, you needed the break. The pumpkin lights across the wall were lit along with your candle (the one your boyfriend gave you in a Boo-Basket) on your nightstand. Most nights you had a Tim Burton movie quietly playing in the background, but tonight you just wanted to listen to the police scanner. It was routine, one that started after you learned your boyfriend was Spider-Man. Hearing the dispatches as you worked we’re oddly comforting, allowing you to know if he’s okay or not.
Tonight you laid in bed studying—well, doodling in the margins of your notes. The rattle of your fire escape broke the quiet. You didn’t startle. Instead, a smile tugged at your lips the moment you saw the familiar red gloves pushing your window open.
“Pete!” You slid off the bed to the window.
“Hey,” you could hear his smile through his mask. “How’s my girl?” He tugged his mask off and tossed his mask onto your cluttered desk.
“Better now.” You smile as he leans in, taking your face into his gloved hands and pressing a tender kiss to your lips.
Peter always gave you the sweetest of kisses when he came back from patrols. He never rushed your kisses. He lived with the knowledge that every time he put the suit on, there was a chance he wouldn’t come back to you. And so, when he did, he made sure you felt it—his relief, his love.
He hummed slowly, tasting the faint sweetness of your chapstick. “Missed you today,” he murmured, words melting into the kiss.
“Then stay the night,” you whispered back, teeth grazing his lower lip, playfully.
He could never say no to you. He answered by pressing his lips harder against yours hungrily. With a soft click, he hit the spider emblem on his suit, the fabric peeling away and pooling at his feet. He stepped forward, guiding you back toward the bed, when you stopped him with both hands pressed to his chest.
He broke the kiss instantly, brows knitting. “Everything okay?”
You swallowed, nerves bubbling in your chest. “I- uh… can we try something?” The heat crawling up your neck made it hard to get the words out. You’d been sitting on this question for weeks—probably longer—rehearsing it in your head, only to chicken out every time. It was stupid. Ridiculous. You two have been dating for almost five years now. You’re each other’s first everythings. And yet, the idea of asking scared you shitless.
Peter’s touch softened, thumbs caressing your skin to ease your nerves. “Oh, sure. What did you have in mind?”
You groaned under your breath, before the words tumbled out in a rush. “Okay, so, hypothetically, do you think it’s possible to- and you can totally say no! It’s just an idea. A concept, really. A weird one-”
“Babe.” He cut off your rambling with a chuckle. “Tell me.”
You grimaced, and forced the words past your lips. “Do you think it’s possible to… y’know. Do it on the ceiling?”
Silence. You braced for laughter or judgement. Whatever comes first.
Instead, Peter broke into the widest grin you’d ever seen. “Oh, thank god! I’ve been wanting to ask you the same thing!”
Your eyes snapped wide open. “You- you have?!”
“Yes!” He laughed. “I’ve always wondered if my powers would even work for… that.”
You stared at him, awed and relieved, before finally cracking a nervous laugh. “So… how does this even work? You can just- what- crawl up there and…?” Your eyes drifted to the ceiling like it might offer instructions.
Peter followed your gaze, lips twitching with a smirk, then leaned back in to kiss you again. This one was slower, more deliberate, the kind of kiss that could drench your panties in an instant. “Don’t worry,” he murmured against your mouth. “I’ve got an idea. You trust me?”
“Always.”
He kissed you harder, tongue brushing yours. You let him in, tongues exploring each other’s. The police scanner quickly faded into background noise.
His hands work their way down your body to massage your ass through your pants, tugging you against him. Then they move up to the hem of your shirt, peeling it off and tossing it onto the rug. Of course, you didn’t wear a bra, it was Friday night. So, when his eyes roamed your breasts, he grew all the more hungry for you. He quickly dives in, nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck in hopes to form a mark. Hands still roaming and massaging every inch of exposed skin.
“Mmmm, fuck, Pete,” a sigh escapes you as you let your eyes shut and focus on the feeling.
He moved to your hips and pushed down your pants and panties in one move. You gasp when his fingers slide through your folds, testing how wet you were. In just one pass, his fingers were soaked.
“Shit, babe, you’re fucking drenched for me. Have you been like this all night—waiting for me to come back?” He rubs light circles against your clit.
Biting your lip, you nod and let out a pathetic “Mhm.”
“Poor thing,” He coos into your neck. “I’ll make it up to you.”
He turns you around holding you against his chest. You feel him shuffling behind you to take his boxers off. His cock springing free and hitting your ass. You can feel his tip, wet with precum, smearing against your skin.
His arm wraps around your torso and he gives your neck open mouthed kisses. “You ready?” His voice was an octave lower now.
“Ready.” You grip onto his arm around you.
He raises his free hand and jumps, sticking to the ceiling. You feel his abs flex against you as he brings his legs up, sticking his knees to the ceiling as well. Now, you laid back on his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder.
The dorm looked so different like this. You notice some spider webs in the corner, the top of your book shelf that needed dusting. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening after so many nights of fantasizing what it would be like.
“Are you okay like this?” He reaches down, pulling your thighs to drape over his, opening you up for him.
“Y-yeah,” you nod nervously.
He kisses your cheek and reaches for his cock, adjusting the tip against your entrance. You squirm a little, feeling the head slide up and down your folds, collecting your wetness.
“Pete,” you whine, needy for more.
“I gotcha.” He says, low into your ear.
That first thrust in made your head fall back, hair dangling over his shoulder, and a deep moan to flow out.
Peter grunted as your hot, wet pussy squeezed around his tip. “Ohhh, fuck. That good?” He asks as he slides another inch in.
“So good, Pete.” Your hips buck for more.
Pleased with your reaction, he starts pushing the rest in, slow and careful, making your pussy stretch for him. It was a slight burn like always, but nothing uncomfortable. In fact, you kind of liked it. You liked knowing that only his cock could stretch you so perfectly to fit him.
He kissed your neck as you whimpered. “You're doing so good. I’m almost all in.”
You felt exposed and at his whim. Legs forced open by his thighs, his hand now massaging your breasts, lips on your neck, and dangling from the ceiling, only protected by him.
Once he’s fully settled inside you, he gives you a moment, feeling your walls flutter around him. “Shit, you’re tight.” He grits his teeth.
“I need it, Peter.” You whine. Your core ached with a need that only he could satisfy.
“I know, baby,” he gives you a few deep and agonizingly slow strokes, testing how he could do this on the ceiling.
You mewl at the drag of his cock—so deep you feel like he’s split you in half. One of your hands held onto his arm while the other reached back to thread into his messy curls. His cock was quickly coated in you, making each thrust easier. He pulled out slowly and slammed back in, making you yelp. Satisfied, he picks up the pace, bucking harder into you.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck!” Your hand fist his hair, making him groan. He loved when you tugged his hair whether he was fucking you silly or eating you out.
“You like that?” He panted into your ear. “Want it deeper?”
“Yes, more! More!” You pleaded, already addicted to the feeling he was fucking into you.
You couldn’t stop the wails coming out of you if you wanted to. Thank god, there were a million halloween parties happening down the hall, or else everyone on your floor would know how good Peter was fucking you right now.
He kissed your shoulder, watching how your body writhed on top of his.
Satisfied with your plea, he drives into you with even more force. Those brutal thrusts, yanked a sob from you each time his tip kissed the soft, sensitive spot inside you.
“You sound so pretty.” He sighed. “Taking me- ngh so- so well. Look at you- oh, fuuuck.”
You could barely reply, babbling nonsense back.
The ache in your belly soothed with each push and pull of his thick cock dragging against the sensitive walls of your cunt—the feeling replaced with pure pleasure.
“You’re fucking incredible.” He nips at your neck while his fingers lightly twist your hard nipples. “So hot. Just wanna be- NGH buried inside your pussy all day.”
“Peterpeterpeterpeter!” Your back arched off his chest, brushing against the ceiling, tilting your cunt towards him to get more.
“Fuck! You want even more, huh?”
“Mhm! Ah-ah! Please!”
“I’ll give it to you. Been so good for me. My good, perfect girl.”
A shriek escapes you as his thrusts become even more powerful and sloppy. The slick sound coming from between your legs was obscene. His thrusts so powerful, his balls started smacking against your cunt while you only got wetter and wetter.
“Oh my go- MFPH!” He bit the nape of your neck, trying not to come yet. “Shit!” He hissed, as you squeezed him.
“Oh, god, it’s so good!” You cry out.
Your arousal was dripping down his balls and onto the floor. Occasional faint splats could be heard between the vulgar sounds coming from the two of you. You feel his abs flexing against your back as he hammers into you like a possessed man.
“Just like that! Don’t stop, don't stop! Please, Pete!”
His hand releases your breast and slides down to your soaked cunt. Your hips jerk when the calloused pad of his middle finger brushes through your lips finding your clit.
“Peter!” You shrieked as pleasure blinded you.
Your thighs quiver and try to clamp together, but kept pried open by his.
“Fuuuck! You’re so tight, I’m- Ungh I’m not gonna last long, you’re s-squeezing me so fucking tight, baby.” His words slur together the closer he gets to the edge.
“I-I’m so close!” You squeak out. “I’m- I’m-“
He was ruthless against your clit, rubbing in small circles. “That’s it. Cum all over my cock, I know you can do it.” He growled into your ear.
It was too much, your body couldn’t possibly hold out any longer. Your orgasm hits you, sending every nerve of your body on fire. Your back arched, nipples brushing against the ceiling.
“That’s my girl. Ah!” He hissed. “I’m cumming- fuck! I’m cumming!” He moans into your neck.
Your pussy was clamping around him, throbbing and milking his cock. He fucked you both through your highs, burying his cum deep inside you while his fingers moved until you were whimpering and shaking in his arms.
As his thrusts slow and fingers ease up, you both pant, trying to reclaim your breaths. Peter’s head fell back, looking at the room upside down.
“You okay?” You chuckle, turning your head to look at him.
“Amazing,” he sighs and comes back up to look at you. “We’re definitely doing that again.”
Your blissed out face makes him smile. ”Yes, please.”
He leans in and softly kisses you. At least until the dripping sound becomes apparent. He pulls back, giving you a guilty smile. “I’ll clean that up.”
A/N: This was written specially for my bestie. I hope u like it🌼
Permanent Tag List: @what-iwish-you-knew @infuriatinglyoptimistic @harriedandharassed
Kinktober 2025 Tag List: @plu0725 @iristheplanet16
Warnings: Angst/Dramaaa, Smut (oral, piv, public, on the side of a building)
Word Count: 4,800+
Summary: With Felicia's anxiety regarding the recent attacks, Miguel takes her out to destress, but ends up going way worse then he hoped.
co-author: @jedijesi
A/N: Been a while... whoops... anyhow, its almost the one year anniversary of CCW
“What are you doing?” Miguel sighs, finding Felicia pacing around the living room in the early hours of the morning.
“Thinking.” She sternly replies, her brows knit together as she mumbles to herself.
He sighs and enters the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. He already knows there's no chance of them going back to sleep. After fixing his cup, he settles down in the arm chair, watching Felicia, his head moving as if he were watching a tennis match.
“Alright, what’s going on.” Miguel’s free hand reaches out to grab her arm, pulling her to sit on his lap.
Felicia huffs in frustration, “I’m trying to figure out who’s stealing the tech. At first I thought we had been infiltrated by someone who didn’t have powers, but we would have sensed that. So, it has to be a Spider-Person. Unless… It's Margo Kess. We can’t sense anything about her, she's a projection. It would make sense, but what's her motive-”
Miguel pulls her closer, “You're spiraling.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Felicia looks at him with eyes full of sorrow. “In New York, I could easily pin which villain committed a crime or did the heist, but this… There are thousands- maybe millions of us. It’s going to get more dangerous, I can’t just sleep comfortably at night knowing they’ll make their next move at any moment.”
“I know,” he sighs. “I’ll tell you what,” Miguel rubs his hand up and down her arm. “Let’s have a lazy morning. Then you get changed into something special, there’s an event in New York tonight you’ll like.”
Felicia narrows her eyes at him. “What event?”
“You’ll see.” He smirks.
—————————————
Their destination remained a mystery, right up until Miguel swung them to a smooth stop across from the grand entrance of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The towering stone columns and sprawling steps gleamed under the city lights. Felicia raised an intrigued eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile as she noticed the banners promoting a small charity event inside.
Miguel offered his arm, and together they strolled through the museum’s grand halls, the rhythmic click of Felicia’s heels echoing on the polished marble floors. He wore a sleek black suit, perfectly tailored to his muscular frame, and she, draped in her favorite black dress, looked effortlessly stunning. Heads turned as they passed, but neither of them noticed, lost in their own world.
As they moved through the exhibits, Felicia’s eyes gleamed, a spark of joy lighting her face. Her love for art came alive in these moments. She pointed out paintings, sculptures, and tapestries, sharing little-known stories and fascinating bits of history with a passion that left him captivated. He listened, but more than the art itself, he was mesmerized by her—by the way her face lit up with every piece she described, her voice soft but animated, as though the weight of the world had slipped off her shoulders.
For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t burdened by their complicated lives or the ever-present threat of another attack. Here, among priceless works of art, she was free. And Miguel? He didn’t care about the paintings—at least not in the way she did. His focus remained on her, soaking in the way she looked tonight. He silently vowed that he’d do whatever it took to keep her in this state of happiness.
They paused in front of a particularly striking painting of a woman—rich, dark hues layered with golden accents, the brushstrokes alive with movement. Miguel squinted at it, something about it felt oddly familiar, pulling at the corners of his memory.
“Why does this one look so famili-” He broke off mid-sentence, his eyes catching the word “Reproduction” on the small brass plaque below the frame. He blinked, and the pieces snapped together in his mind. He turned to Felicia, whose lips were now caught between her teeth, a guilty look in her eyes as she avoided his gaze.
“Gatita,” Miguel began, a teasing edge in his voice, “you have this exact painting in your apartment.” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Wanna share how that happened?”
Felicia groaned, “Alright, fine!” She let out a frustrated whisper, unable to stop a small smile creeping up. “I stole it, okay? A few years back.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “You happy now?”
Miguel chuckled, shaking his head, though amusement danced in his eyes. “So, let me get this straight,” he mused, leaning closer to whisper in her ear. “They had to get a copy because you’ve got the real deal hanging in your apartment?”
Felicia shot him a sideways look, clearly trying to deflect. “Perhaps,” she said with a shrug, already turning on her heel to walk away, hoping to slip out of the conversation. “You better not be mad, ‘cause that was forever ago, and I haven’t stolen anything in—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Miguel’s hand shot out, gently grabbing her wrist and pulling her back toward him. In one smooth motion, he wrapped his strong arms around her from behind, holding her close. “Hey, hey, hey… relajate, gatita,” he whispered softly into her ear, his voice like velvet. “I’m not mad at you.”
Felicia let out a long, slow breath as she melted into his chest, the tension unraveling from her body. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she tilted her head slightly back to look at him. “Good,” she murmured, a playful spark returning to her eyes, “because I’m not giving it back.”
—----------------
Felicia’s gaze lingered on a statue, her eyes tracing the intricate marble curves and exquisite craftsmanship. The statue’s delicate form seemed almost alive under the soft museum lighting, and for a moment, Felicia let herself get lost in its beauty.
“Ugh,” she sighed softly, crossing her arms. “I’ve always wanted this one. I planned a heist and everything.” She rolled her eyes. “Got my stupid powers right before I planned it and, suddenly, I felt too guilty to do it.”
Miguel turned to her, his brow raised with a playful gleam in his eye. His gaze briefly dropped to the delicate string of pearls around her neck, fingers brushing the smooth, lustrous surface as he teased, “Yeah? And these pearls? They seem new. You sure you’re the saint you claim to be?”
Felicia shot him a mischievous look as she turned, leading them into the next gallery. “What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Her smirk widened, but before she could finish the thought, she accidentally bumped into someone walking by.
“Oops! Sorry ‘bout tha—" Her voice faltered as she looked up, her words turning cold as recognition hit her like a punch to the gut. Staring back at her with those all-too-familiar, vibrant emerald eyes was none other than MJ Watson.
"Oh!" MJ’s eyes lit up, though her smile was laced with a smugness that made Felicia’s jaw clench. “Felicia.”
“MJ.” Felicia’s tone turned sharp, the warmth draining from her expression. Her previously apologetic demeanor vanished as quickly as it had come.
Miguel stiffened beside her, instantly recognizing the shift in Felicia’s posture. His eyes flicked between the two women, his body unconsciously moving closer to Felicia in a protective stance, though he remained outwardly calm.
MJ’s grin widened, clearly relishing in the awkwardness. “You’re looking better since I last saw you,” she commented, her faux-cheerful tone doing little to mask the passive-aggression beneath her words.
Felicia didn’t miss a beat. “Wish I could say the same for you,” she shot back, her voice dripping with venom as she gave a mock frown, eyes scanning MJ up and down.
MJ’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. But before she could respond, she threw out another blow. “Petey’s around here somewhere,” MJ said in a sing-song voice, waving her hand nonchalantly. “I’ll call him over. It’ll be like a cute little reunion, won’t it?”
Felicia’s jaw clenched, a flash of panic behind her cold exterior. “That’s not necessary,” she replied firmly, her voice sharp, almost pleading.
Before the tension could thicken any further, Miguel, sensing Felicia’s discomfort, spoke up, his deep voice calm but decisive. “We actually have to go,” he said, scanning the crowded gallery for a quick exit. He wasn’t keen on this situation escalating.
But MJ wasn’t listening. “Nonsense!” she chirped, waving into the crowd. “Petey! Come over here!” Her voice carried through the gallery, and Miguel’s hand instinctively tightened around Felicia’s, offering silent reassurance as she tensed beside him.
Seconds later, the crowd parted, and Peter Parker emerged. His easy smile fell the moment his eyes landed on the scene in front of him. He looked first at MJ’s smiling face, then at Felicia, whose eyes had turned into steel, and finally at Miguel. Peter’s shock was almost comical as his gaze lingered on Miguel, struggling to process what he was seeing.
Peter’s mind raced, trying to make sense of it. Miguel O’Hara—his boss—was here, standing next to Felicia in a suit instead of his classic blue and red molecule suit. His hair, normally disheveled from his Spider-Man mask, was styled casually, letting his dark curls frame his face. But what truly stood out was his towering height—6 feet, 9 inches of pure, intimidating presence. He’s known no one that had this tall and demanding presence—except Miguel.
“There you are, Petey!” MJ’s voice cut through the tension, her usual bright cheer masking the awkwardness as she skipped over, grabbing Peter’s hand with casual ease.
Felicia’s irritation was evident in the sharpness of her tone as she tried to brush past him. “Yeah, hi, we gotta go,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing, ready to flee this uncomfortable situation.
But before she could move, Peter’s hand shot out, gripping her arm just enough to stop her in her tracks. Felicia froze, her eyes flashing in surprise, and for a split second, Miguel’s blood ran cold. His eyes darkened, turning a glowing shade of red, and his fangs—normally hidden—began to push through, his primal instincts threatening to take over. The sheer audacity of Peter touching her had every protective instinct in Miguel firing on all cylinders.
Peter quickly released his hold, his eyes darting nervously to Miguel’s now predatory gaze. The flash of fear was unmistakable, but instead of backing down, Peter’s signature mischief kicked in. His lips curled into a sly grin, a glint of faux innocence shining in his eyes as the situation suddenly clicked in his mind. “No way!” Peter exclaimed, his tone feigning surprise. “This must be the ‘new lover’ Aunt May was talking about.”
Felicia’s expression hardened, her patience already thin. She glared at Peter, silently daring him to keep pushing. Before either she or Miguel could respond, MJ, always one to steer the conversation, cut them off with a chipper, “Wait, Petey, does Felicia know?”
Now it was Peter’s turn to falter, his cool façade cracking as MJ’s words caught him off guard. “Oh, um, well—”
“We’re married!” MJ declared excitedly, holding up her left hand triumphantly, the gold band glinting under the museum’s soft lights. She clasped Peter’s hand, flashing both rings with a satisfied smile, clearly enjoying her moment.
Felicia’s stomach twisted, an uncomfortable knot forming as she processed the news. 8 months ago, she and Peter were together and happy, but now… married? The word echoed bitterly in her mind. “Wow,” she muttered, her voice flat and devoid of the typical sarcasm. It was more a word spoken out of shock than any true reaction.
Miguel, sensing the emotional storm brewing inside Felicia, tried to defuse the situation. “Congrats, but we really should go,” he interjected, his tone clipped and direct as he reached for Felicia’s hand, eager to whisk her away from the past that clearly still haunted her. But Felicia didn’t move.
Her eyes locked onto Peter’s, searching for answers. “When did you two tie the knot?” she demanded, her voice steely but calm, though the hurt beneath it was evident to anyone paying attention.
Peter shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, his usual confidence faltering. “Uh…”
“Three months ago!” MJ chimed in, far too gleeful for the situation. She turned to Peter, practically glowing as she looked up at him with adoration. “Can you believe it? We hadn’t dated since high school, but somehow, fate brought us back together. We reunited, and… well, our love was just so powerful, he couldn’t wait to marry me.” She beamed, squeezing Peter’s hand as if sealing the statement with a gesture of affection.
Felicia’s jaw tightened, her teeth grinding in silent fury as she watched Peter squirm, clearly uncomfortable with MJ’s overly enthusiastic retelling of their whirlwind romance. Her mind raced. Less than a year after their breakup, he was already married. Married. It felt surreal. She swallowed down the bitter taste of betrayal, eyes still boring into Peter.
“Must be a canon event,” Felicia muttered under her breath, the words slipping out before she could stop them. The sarcasm was thick, masking her pain with biting wit.
MJ blinked, clearly not understanding the reference. “Huh?”
“Nothing, just seems like a real-life love story,” Felicia replies, her voice thick with irony as she eyes Peter and MJ, her lips curling into a sardonic smirk. “Look at you, keeping secrets from Aunt May.”
Peter huffs, crossing his arms. “She’d never approve.”
Felicia scoffs, the derisive sound escaping her lips before she can stop it. “I wonder why.”
Before the tension could build further, MJ, seemingly oblivious or uncaring to Felicia’s rising irritation, giggles with a saccharine enthusiasm that makes Felicia’s skin crawl. “Well… we’ll tell her after we give her grandbabies.”
Felicia’s eyes widened, her stomach churning at MJ’s words. “Grandbabies! Wow!” She feigns an over-the-top gasp, her hand dramatically flying to her chest as her voice drips with mock excitement. “I thought you didn’t want kids, Peter. Always said it was too dangerous.”
MJ’s eyes narrowed slightly, her voice taking on a condescending tone as she interjected with a bright smile. “Well, Felicia, some people grow up and realize what truly matters in life. Maybe one day, you’ll figure that out too.”
Felicia’s jaw clenches, her hand balling into a fist as her patience finally begins to unravel.
“Or perhaps its the matter of the right person.” MJ smirks.
Felicia was mere seconds away from launching a biting retort, her heart hammering in her chest. But before the words can escape her lips, Miguel’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade.
“Alright,” Miguel says smoothly, his tone firm and authoritative as he steps in, placing a protective hand on Felicia’s lower back. “We best be going. See you at work, Peter.” His crimson eyes briefly flicker toward Peter, narrowing just enough to send a shiver of unease down Peter’s spine. Miguel’s gaze was cold, calculated, carrying the silent message: Don’t push her any further.
Peter nods quickly, clearly eager to avoid further confrontation. “Yeah, uh, we should go too, MJ.”
The two women exchange one last icy glare, the silent battle of wills raging between them, before Miguel gently but firmly takes Felicia by the hand and begins to lead her away from the couple. His grip is steady, offering silent reassurance as they navigate through the crowd together.
As they slip through the backdoor, the cool night air hits Miguel’s face, cutting through the tension that had clung to him like a second skin. He feels it eases, only slightly. But Felicia… Felicia is still a storm of fury, her body radiating barely contained anger. He tosses off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, knowing they’re too restricting. Then he takes her by the waist as his web shooters materialize on his wrists. The webs shoot out of his wrists like a red bolt of lighting. He swings them through the city before stopping, finding themselves atop the black and gold American Radiator Building, the cityscape sprawling before them.
“Fuck!” Felicia lets out a raw, frustrated groan, pacing to the edge of the rooftop, her heels clicking against the concrete with each furious step. “That son of a bitch!” Her voice quakes with emotion. “He’s found the perfect woman to spend the rest of his shitty life with. Those two fuckers deserve each other!”
Miguel watches in silence, his chest tight. He’s used to Felicia’s fire, her venom, but there’s something deeper in her words tonight—a wound that runs too deep for simple anger. She moves to the ledge, her power surging as she sticks to the side of the building. With a cat-like grace, she dangles from the edge, looking down at the blur of people below, tiny ants scurrying through their insignificant lives.
He walks to the edge to look down at her. “Whatcha doing?”
“I’ve never been up here before. Thought I’d check out the view.” She shrugs, her voice distant.
He walks to the ledge, gazing down at her, his heart beating faster. He can’t stick to walls the way she can, so his web-shooters hum to life again. A thin, electric-red web shoots out, wrapping securely around a nearby spire as he lowers himself next to her.
From this angle, the city glows like a distant galaxy, its golden lights shimmering against the dark canvas of the night. “It’s beautiful from here,” Miguel says quietly, his voice layered with meaning. He looks at her, hoping for some kind of response, but she remains silent, her eyes focused far beyond the civilians below.
Minutes pass like hours, the silence thick and heavy. And then, finally, she speaks, her voice breaking through the quiet like a confession.
“I wish Peter and MJ didn’t get under my skin the way they do,” she whispers, her voice raw with vulnerability. “They know exactly how to hurt me.” A tear slips down her cheek, catching the faint light, shimmering like a raindrop before falling into the darkness below. “You’re the one goddamn thing I genuinely care about, and Peter’s gonna strip it away from me.”
Her words hang in the air, sharp and jagged. Another tear falls, and this time, she swipes at it furiously. “God, this is so fucking stupid,” she growls, frustration thick in her voice. “The last thing I ever wanted was for him to have control over my life again.”
Miguel exhales, his heart aching for her. He moves closer, his hand gently tilting her chin so she’s forced to meet his gaze. Her eyes, usually fierce and defiant, are softer now, haunted by a pain she rarely lets show.
“Felicia,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against her jawline, “you forget who you’re dating.” His lips twitch into a small, reassuring smile. “I’m the leader of the Spider Society, remember? Peter Parker’s nothing to me. An ant.” His voice deepens, the warmth of his touch grounding her. “I created the Spider Society. I built the technology that lets me travel across dimensions—just to be with you. Your pathetic ex isn’t going to change that. Not now, not ever.”
“An ant?” she scoffs, though there’s less bite in her voice now. “You don’t get it, Miguel. ” She runs a hand over her hair, pushing it back as if she’s trying to push away the memories. “He’s not just my ex. He’s this… constant reminder of everything I thought I wanted. And everything I couldn’t have.”
She turns, staring out at the city again. “Peter and MJ—they’re like this stupid fairytale I kept chasing. The hero and his perfect girl. And me? I was just the villain. The cat burglar turned hero… the other girl.”
Her voice cracks slightly, betraying her. She clenches her fists, digging her nails into her palms. “But now, you come along and tell me none of that matters. That I matter. And part of me wants to believe you, but…” She pauses, biting her lip hard enough to taste blood. “But what if he’s right? What if I’m always gonna be second place to someone like her? I mean, out of all the universes, I’m the only Felicia who’s ever become a ‘hero’... You know how many looks I get from the other Spider-people? Even in all the other universes, I’m considered a villain.”
Felicia spins back to face him, her eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and fear. “I don’t need to be saved, Miguel. I never did. I just—I don’t know how to stop feeling like he’s already won, like I can control my future and not be stuck in this cycle of shit.”
She swallows hard, her expression softening as she looks at him. “But you… You make me want to try. And that scares the hell out of me.” She scoffs at the absurdity.
There’s a long silence as her words hang between them. The tears she fought so hard to hold back slip through the cracks again, but this time she doesn’t wipe them away. Instead, she steps closer to him, resting her forehead against his chest. “You’re the only thing keeping me from falling apart right now,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
Slowly, Miguel raises his hand to her cheek, gently brushing away a stray tear with the back of his fingers. His touch is warm, unhurried, as if he’s grounding her, pulling her away from the swirling storm in her mind.
“You’re not second to anyone, Felicia,” he says, his voice low and steady, each word carrying weight. “You never were.” He cups her face, tilting her head slightly so that her eyes meet his again. The way he looks at her is intense—like she’s the only thing that matters in this moment, and nothing else exists outside of it.
“I didn’t cross universes to be with you because I pity you. I did it because I- I… need you.” His thumb strokes her cheek, slow and deliberate. “You don’t have to chase after anyone’s idea of happiness. You’re not some villain in someone else’s story. You’re everything I want—right here, right now.”
The vulnerability in her eyes flickers, but there’s something else now too. The doubt that had gripped her begins to unravel, replaced by a fragile but growing sense of belief. She searches his face, trying to find any cracks in his words, but all she sees is sincerity.
Miguel leans in, his lips brushing lightly against her forehead—a soft, lingering kiss, as if he’s sealing his words into her skin. Then, his hand slides to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, their bodies flush against each other. His breath is warm against skin.
There’s a pause as he pulls back just enough to look into her eyes again. The tension between them shifts—no longer heavy with pain but charged with something else, something deeper.
Unable to hold back the flood of feelings and pent up tension, Felicia leaps forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing him into a kiss. Caught off guard by the sudden kiss, Miguel’s initial surprise gives way to a rush of desire. He responds eagerly, his arm encircling her waist as he pulls her close.
It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become heated. Miguel hastily pushes her against the building, finding footing in the golden ledge of the architecture. He groans into the kiss. She moans as his lips move to her jaw and then her neck. “You’re mine.”
Felicia hitches her leg around Miguel’s waist in an attempt to grind onto his cock that strains against his slacks. His hand moves to cup her ass, lifting her in his arms to grind into her clothed core.
“Fuck.” He groans. “I want you.”
“Please, Mig.” Felicia gasps, feeling him grind perfectly into her clit.
“I wanna taste your pussy.” He tugs her dress up.
Felicia’s eyes widened in surprise. “H-Here?”
“I can’t wait. I need it.” His eyes began to glow red with lust taking over.
Her heart began to race in anticipation. “O-Okay.”
Miguel extended the web, leaning back so he was parallel with the ground. “Sit on my face.”
“That's gonna be uncomfortable for you-” Suddenly, Miguel’s free hand grabs her waist, pulling her up and onto his chest.
His claws extend and rip her panties under her dress. Felicia gasps in surprise but it quickly turns into a moan as he leans his head up, attaching his lips to her clit.
“O-Oh, fuuuck.”
Miguel groaned, lapping her dripping pussy up. He loved worshiping her body. He loved the way she melted with just a flick of his tongue. “Such a good girl.” He mumbles into her pussy, the vibrations of his deep voice simulating her more.
Felicia’s eyes roll back, with all the pent up stress she's been having for the past several days, she needed to cum.
Miguel smirked at the way her legs quivered around his face and how her fingers tugged at his hair. As her moans grew louder, his mouth moved faster. She was getting close and he wasn’t going to stop until she was screaming for him.
His tongue trades off between flicking her swollen clit and delving into her throbbing cunt. Her taste and whimpers only made Miguel’s cock harder, straining against his slacks. If he wasn’t using his other hand to hold the web, keeping them from falling, he would have relieved the aching of his cock by now.
As her breaths grow quicker and sounds become louder, Miguel can tell she’s on the edge. “That’s it, cum for me.” His tongue becomes ruthless, desperate to make her cum. His free hand grips her hips, tugging her as close as possible.
With a cry, Felicia cums. Miguel was in heaven, lapping every drop up, enjoying the quaking of her body on his face.
“Fuck, Mig.” She sighed, regaining her breath.
“I’m not even close to being done with you.” He growls.
Miguel moves them to stand, against the ledge again with Felicia legs wrapped around his waist. He hastily undoes his pants with her help, freeing his aching cock from its confines.
“Fuck, I need you.” He groans, pumping his cock that leaks with precum.
He lines his cock up with her entrance and with a fast thrust, he bottoms out in her. They moan together, taking a moment to adjust. Although, it doesn’t take long before Miguel begins moving. Felicia’s moans mix with the sounds of traffic and sirens in the streets below. It was entirely irresponsible to be fucking on the side of the building. There could be crime happening that needs their attention, but the two were too wrapped up in each other to think about the world beyond them.
“God, you’re so tight.” Miguel pants as he picks up speed. His claws dig into the black concrete behind her.
Felicia whimpers, her fingers thread into Miguel’s hair, tugging on it. The sensation makes him growl and bite the sensitive part of her neck.
“You drive me wild.” He grunts between thrusts. “All mine.”
“Oh, Mig” She moans.
“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so good for me.” He grabs her thigh and hitches it higher, getting an even deeper angle.
Felicia gasps and her body quivers with the surge of pleasure. “R-right there!”
“Yeah?” He pants with a cocky smirk. “Right here?” He moves relentlessly, causing the concrete behind her to crack. “I bet Peter never made you feel this good, huh?” He nips at her neck, watching as her eyes roll back.
She let out a series of moans in response. Miguel loved it when she was in so much pleasure, she couldn’t speak let alone think. It made him feral.
“That’s my good girl. I feel you getting so- ungh- so fucking tight for me. You’re so close aren’t you?”
Felicia whimpers and nods her head, causing Miguel to smirk again.
“I want you to cum hard for me, got it?” He groans as she throbs around him, teething on the edge. “I’m gonna cum so deep inside you if you keep that up.”
Miguel grabs Felicia by the neck, forcing her to look up at him through her heavy lidded eyes. “I need you to cum for me right now.” He growls.
The feeling of him pistoning in and out of her, paired with the tight grip on her neck was all she needed to cum. She came, throbbing around him, moaning his name like a prayer. It was too much for Miguel, he fucked her through her orgasm, filling her with his cum.
The two pant as they calm down from their high. Miguel slowly releases Felicia’s throat, his hand sliding up to her cheek, tilting her face up to look at him. “Fucking perfect.” He says between pants, his voice deep and raw from the moaning.
Felicia smiles weakly before leaning in for a soft and tender kiss.
Hey Lordy!💖Could u possibly write something Din x Jedi!read (An Ashoka like Jedi but human) where they train together with the dark saber and/or spear and lightsabers? With lots of Fluff too please! 😘❤️
“Din, stop.” Your hands move to the sides of your head to rub at your temples. “You’re using it like your spear. With the spear you can be rough and abrupt. But your saber should be fluid. An extension of your very being.”
“I was doing that.”
Sighing you ignite your own saber. “If I had to stop you to tell you, obviously you weren’t.” Swinging the saber around you look at him. “Watch me do it again. But this time instead of focusing on my movements, focus on the way I make my movements.”
“That’s the same thing.”
Throwing him a glare, you get into the beginning position and close your eyes.. “No, it's not. Just try and feel the way I move.”
Before you can even start, two hands are placed on your hips. You squeak and open your eyes. Jumping away from his hold you glare at him again. His hands move up in defense. “You said feel the way, I felt.”
“Maker, can’t you be serious, I’m trying to teach you.” Crossing your arms, you rest your weight on one hip and clip your saber to your belt. You both have been at this for hours, and the mandalorian has just gotten more and more frustrated. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you pray he won’t notice. Sparks dance where his hands were just touching.
He sighs and passes the blade through the air in front of him. After spending the past few months with him, you’ve started to pick up on his nonverbal signals. LIke how when he’s nervous he’ll slightly clench and unclench his fingers. Or if he really wants to leave an area or conversation, his right foot will tap once towards a door. Also, if he is confused, he’ll tilt his head slight, kind of like a puppy.
However, some things are still undiscovered. Such as, the way he always stares at you. No matter who or where you two are, his visor seems to always find its way back to your form. Or when he passes you, his hand will trail over your shoulder. Sometimes the touch is so light you can't tell if it actually happened or you imagined it.
Snapping out of your thoughts and shaking your head, your eyes fall onto the man in question. He’s just looking right back at you.
“Sorry, got lost in thought. Do it again.”
There's that head tilt that you know so well. Albeit, he doesn’t say anything and starts to move though the exercise again.
You watch his moves and frown. Even if he didn’t have the armor on, anyone would be able to tell he is mandalorian. His movements are brash and sharp, flooding his opponent with his air of dominance, forcing them to submit.
When he finishes the routine, he turns to look at you. “Okay, hold on. Watch me again.”
Igniting your saber, you begin the routine. The air spins around you, allowing your movements to become even more graceful than before.
“Mesh’la.” It’s uttered under his breath, but you still heard it.
“What does that mean?” Placing your saber back on your belt, you look at the mandalorian.
His left hand flexes before coming back into a slight fist. “I… That looked the same as when I did it.”
You know he stopped himself from saying something, completely disregarding your question. Sighing, you try and explain it to him. “Mando, try and watch without your stubborn view.”
“I’m not being stub-.” He stops when you throw him a glare.
“Do it again, and this time try and add grace and fluidity to your movements.”
***
The sun sets over the horizon, casting pinks and oranges throughout the sky. You’re sitting right next to the mandalorian, shoulders almost touching.
“You know, I never wanted it.” His voice is hushed.
“What?” Your head swivels to look at him. His helmet is trained forward but he continues his thought.
“I never wanted the saber. I tried to give it back, but now it is in my possession.” You nod, allowing him time to think over his next speech. “Now I have a planet under my care, a planet I gave up on years ago.”
You can hear the sorrow in his voice, and his head falls down to peer at his lap.
“I can barely care for myself. I don’t know how I’ll even begin to care for them.”
Grabbing the sides of his helmet, you turn his helmet to look at you. “Hey, look at me.” His hands rise to grip your wrists. They don’t pull your own away from him, in fact they hold you still against him. “Life is never easy, and if it is then you’re not really living. It’ll throw things at us that we don’t know where to start with, but life also throws us friends and people around us who can help.”
Your eyes scan over his helmet, searching for any form of movement to try and gage his thoughts. When you find nothing, you continue, “Mando, look, it’s not going to be easy but you’re gonna make one hell of a ruler.”
You offer him a smile and his visor just peers at you. A wave of confidence overwhelms your body and before you know it, you’ve wrapped yourself around him in a hug. His body becomes rigid, unsure of what to do.
Soon, two arms wrap around your shoulders and a helmet rests on the top of your head. “Thanks, cyare.”
You hum before nuzzling closer to him. One of his hands trails up and down your spine, sparks following his path.
“You know how you were saying life gives us people to help?”
“Yeah?” Reluctantly pulling away from his chest, you look up into his visor.
His hand stops at the top of your spine before tracing your neck and cupping your cheek. His thumb slowly traces the skin under your eye. “It brought me to you.”
Your features twitch into a wide smile and your heart skips a beat. The loud thumps echo through your chest and you're sure he can hear it.
His helmet falls to meet your forehead, resting against each other in security and comfort. Neither one of you says anything and neither one wants to let go.
You both just exist, holding each other and taking on the world one step at a time.
Hey Lovely!!! I just remembered curriculum vitae and reread it for the third time since it’s one of my all time favorites😊 But I was wondering if you’ve discontinued the series since it’s been quite a while?🥺 Other than that have a FANTASTIC day you deserve only the best😘💞
Hi!
I’m still writing CV (and TLOS)!! Don’t worry. I’ve been on a bit of an unintended/unannounced hiatus because my classes this semester are keeping me very busy. Every weekend I hope to have time to write and post an update, but alas, I am drowning in coursework lol The good news is finals are approaching and things will calm down soon!
Thank you for reading and your continued interest and support. It means so much!!
Hey! Good to hear from you again friendo! I’m doing okay, it’s been a kind of v stressful couple of weeks with car trouble and stuff but it’s calmed down for a moment. Kind of why I haven’t been super active, lol. Finished my first BOTW playthrough and gonna play it on Master Mode next! New summer Animal Crossing update looks fun! Just trying to enjoy the little things since the big picture’s kinda got me stressed af lately 🥴 I hope you’re doing well! How have things been for you? ☺️
Warnings: SMUT (public sex, oral f receiving, adiran's a munch, piv)
Summary: Adrian wants to have car sex?!
Word Count: 2,000+
A/N: I accidentally posted this on the 1st instead of the 3rd, so if you’ve seeing this again, I had to delete it. Sorry to everyone who liked, reposted, and commented. I didn’t even get to read what you said I just panic deleted it🥲
“Wanna have car sex?”
Your head whipped over to look at your boyfriend who was still driving like he didn’t just ask you such a vulgar question.
“What?”
“Do you want to have car sex?” He repeated like it was obvious.
One moment you two are talking about how cool it would be if Chris’s suit was teal to match Adiran’s and the next he’s asking you if you wanna have sex? You almost reminded him about how illegal it is, but couldn’t help to stop and see where this was going. “You serious?”
“Yeah.” He pulls into the Chuck E. Cheese parking lot.
Besides the red sign and a few street lamps, the parking lot was dark and empty.
“Here?”
“Please, baby? It’s almost midnight, no one’s around.” He parked the car and turned to you. “My cock is really hard.” He gave you those puppy eyes through his silver glasses. The glow of the sign turned everything red, harshening the shadows, and making him look hotter if that’s even possible.
“Yeah, okay.” A smile curls on your lips as his eyes light up.
With a big ol’ grin on his face, he quickly lunged across the center console, grabbing your face with both hands and planting a kiss on your lips. Everytime he kissed you, he made it as special as the first. He’d never take it for granted, not when he was risking life and limb everyday.
After the kiss, you both quickly slide into the back seat shedding your clothes as fast as possible. Adrian couldn’t keep his lips off of you, kissing every inch of your face and neck.
“I’ve been hard since my mission earlier. I killed like 5 drug dealers.” The evidence grinded into your already soaked panties.
“Ugh, Adrian, you said you wouldn’t talk about killing people during sex anymore.” You groan as you kick his jeans off.
He pauses kissing your neck to look at you. “I know, I’m just trying to say that killing makes me horny and I missed you.”
“Adrian.” You chided him. If you didn’t stop him now, he’d be talking about his kill count until you cum. It’s happened a few times.
“Okay, okay!” He dives back down to suck more hickies into your neck. His hand slides down your body rubbing your clit through your panties. “So wet.” He growled.
His index finger hooks around the lacey material, pulling it to the side.
“Please.” You whimpered, bucking your hips for more. “Need you inside me.”
“God, I wanna taste you so bad.” He sighs, watching how his middle finger pushes past your lips, brushing against your opening, collecting your wetness, and sliding up to your clit.
He massaged tight circles into your clit, causing you to let out those pathetic needy moans he loves. A smile grew on his face as he watched your reaction. Adrian was obsessed with making you feel good. Some days you’ll even quiz him on animal facts while he eats you out, mumbling the answers into your pussy. You only did it on special occasions and he fucking loved it.
“But I need you to fuck me.” You whine
“Just a quick taste.”
He grabs your legs, tossing them over his shoulders before taking your hips and lifting your entire lower half up to his mouth. He didn’t give you any soft licks like he normally did, instead, he nuzzled right into your cunt and let his tongue invade every inch. It was sloppy and needy. He didn’t give a fuck if his face was covered in your slick, he fucking loved it. The metal of his glasses were ice cold compared to the heat that was generating between your legs.
“Adrian!” You squirm and squeal.
You were folded in half, left to his whim. Your hands desperately try to find purchase, clawing and grabbing at the leather seat and headrest.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans into your pussy. “So fucking good. You can try it when I kiss you.”
You wouldn’t be able to stop moaning if you tried. His tongue was absolutely ruthless. In random intervals, he lapped from bottom to top, swirled his tongue around your bud or flicked it, or he’d flat out plunge right into your sopping cunt.
The sight and sound alone could send you over the edge. The way he closed his eyes to concentrate on you, his glasses fogged up, the squelching of your pussy every time he nuzzled deeper into you.
“Oh god! I’m getting so close!” You cried out, your walls clenching around his tongue. “Adrian, Adrian! Oh, Adrian please! Adri- HEY!” You snap out of your haze of bliss when he suddenly pulls away.
“I just wanted a taste.” He shrugged and laid you back down.
A frustrated groan leaves your lips. “Not nice.”
His brows furrow, the fog in his glasses slowly going away. “I’m very nice to you! You’re my best friend!” He pushed down his underwear, letting his cock spring free and slap against his abs. “I don’t stick my tongue in anyone else’s pussy. Plus this week alone you’ve cum 9 times and we’ve only had sex 4 times. Most men can’t make their girlfriends or wives cum once a week.” He grimaces at the thought before he presses his tip against your cunt and slowly pushes in.
You let out a long moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his size. It slightly burns, but in the addicting way that only your boyfriend could create. He gives a few experimental shallow thrusts, making sure you’re good. Once your face doesn’t show any signs of discomfort and only sweet gasps come out of your lips, he tosses one of your legs back on his shoulder, and starts plowing you.
“Men who can’t make-ngh their girlfriends or wives come- ngh should honestly be shot.” He grunts out between violent thrusts that make the whole car shake and squeak. “And guys who won’t eat pussy... I mean, why wouldn’t you!”
You’d beg him to shut the fuck up if you could, but the babbling of random symbols was the extent of your ability to speak.
Adrian falls forward a bit, placing a hand on the door and the other on your thigh. “I’d eat you out any day- oh wow! Wow, you’re really tight right now, fuck!” He moans. “ I love how you taste, though. I’d choose you over ice cream, or sushi, or mashed potatoes, or…”
As he lists off every food to exist, you weakly bring your hand up to cover his mouth. Except the way he was hitting your g-spot right now was blurring your vision into a thousand stars. So, you end up bumping his glasses and nose in a desperate attempt to stop him.
“…or pasta, or beer-“
You give up and grab his jaw that was still slick with your taste, and yank him down to kiss you.
That did the trick.
Adrian immediately moans into the kiss. Without his mind focused on rambling, his strokes became more precise. His hips rolled against yours perfectly, brushing against your clit in the process. Your fingers tangle in his curls, pulling a low moan from him.
Despite it being a cold night, the car was hot and sticky. By the way your boyfriend was hammering into you, you would have thought it had been months since you two last fucked. One of your hands presses back against the dewy glass of the window as you desperately try to buck back into him.
“Shit! You’re tight!” He winces and breaks away from your neck.
He leans back again, wanting to watch how he splits you open, and god, was that a sight. One of his all time favorite, right after fucking his cum into you. Your pussy gripped his dick with every drag, coating him in your glistening juices. You were starting to cream, creating a ring of white sin around the base of his cock, dripping down his balls that slap against your ass. It was an absolutely vulgar sight, but one he’ll forever be in love with.
“So fucking pretty.” He whines, watching the sight.
“Adrian! Ah!”
“You like it like this? Like it in the back of my car?”
Eyes barely open, you lazily bob your head, barely able to focus on anything but his dick mercilessly hitting that special spot deep inside you.
He notices your toes curl as you get close to your climax. He turns his head and kisses your ankle that rests on his shoulder.
“So deep- AHGN! Like that! Yes, yes!” You gasp for air as he knocks it out of your lungs with each thrust.
“I love you.” He mumbles into the skin of your calf as he continues to ruthlessly plow you. “You’re my best friend.” Adiran leans back over you again to kiss you, muffling the moans rolling off your tongue. “Say it.” He begs against your lips. “Tell me you love me — that I’m your best friend, and I’ll let you cum. I’ll let you cum so hard.”
The desperate tone of his voice and the way he traded his steady pace for fast faltering thrusts was your way of knowing he was on the edge
“I love you, Adrian.” You whimpered against his lips. “I love you so much. Ngh! Ngh! You’ll a-ah-always be my best friend.” Your heavy lidded eyes looked into his. His glasses lopsided on his nose, just barely hanging on.
“Fuck, fuuuuck! Cum. Cum all over my cock!” He gritted his teeth, holding back just long enough for you to cum first.
Your pussy squeezes and throbs around him as you cum. The car fills with your high pitched moans and gasps while your orgasm rips through you, making the entire world disappear except for Adrian. The throbbing of your pussy was the final straw. He came moaning and babbling your name, desperately fucking you, prolonging your highs as long as possible. You could feel him twitching inside you, emptying every drop into you.
You stay like this for a few minutes, needing the time to catch your breaths and come back to reality. When you eventually do, you notice how the windows completely fogged up, a few smeared hand prints left behind.
“How was that?” He sighs into your neck, giving it a kiss before sitting up.
“Really fucking hot.” You hum, your voice sounding raw, now.
Adiran gives you a big smile like he just saw a manta ray. Fixing his sideways glasses back into place, he asks, “Yeah? You liked fucking in the back of my car?”
You smiled back and lazily nodded, watching him carefully slide out of you and pull his boxers on.
“Good, I can schedule it again.” He sits back and turns his attention to the window and draws faces into the fogged up windows.
Your aching body protests as you sit up. “Schedule it? What?”
He looks back. “You didn’t think we were doing this illegally, were you?”
Your brows furrow at him. “Adrian, what are you talking about?”
“I rented the parking lot out.” He goes back to drawing on the window, writing We Fucked Here. “I gave the Chuck E. Cheese franchise owner 100 bucks to use the parking lot for an hour and a half. Plus, I added signs around the place so no one comes around. I’m not a monster.” He snorts, finding the idea of doing this illegally ridiculous.
You were completely shocked. It makes sense he would go through these hoops to ensure no laws were broken, but still insane. ”Oh my god!”
“What! It’s the only way we could have car sex legally unless you want to do it in my mom’s garage!”
You shake your head and chuckle quietly to yourself. Maybe you were the fool for thinking he’d actually break the rules. It’s Adrian, the same boyfriend who prided himself on killing graffiti artists and god knows who else.
Adrian simply continues to draw on the windows, only wearing his boxers still.
“An hour and a half?”
He checks the clock on the dashboard. “We still have time if you wanna go again.”
“Yeah, okay.”
A/N: First Adrian Fic🥰 I might have to do more if it’s received well so lmk!
Permanent Tag List: @what-iwish-you-knew @infuriatinglyoptimistic @harriedandharassed
