#And I love drawing. I think there has always been something in me that longed for this. And it is finally tangible! I can draw!!!

[andersonlore]

high sex with dina…. high sex with dina……

kiss of heaven | dina

tags: eighteen+, sexual content, cannabis sex, oral (dina!r), face sitting, , dub-con (both reader and dina are high).

an. here's my first fic of dina! it's not perfect by any means by i kinda like it?? i hope you enjoy it as well.

there’s something special about it. firsts always are. the adrenaline pumping through your veins, the serotonin getting sent through your head when someone new kisses you for the first time, the very beginnings of an orgasm never been given by them, the shivers traveling up your spine with a promise of something more. it’s all so inviting your doe-eyed heart welcomes it with open arms. 

but this isn’t the case. 

dina sitting on your lap the entire night, taking hit after hit, the both of you lost in the feeling of what could’ve been all night. now, the both of you are too far lost in the lust of weed, all you can think about is fucking her. she’s been grinding back into you all night, as if it’s not torturing you to no end. you’re sure you’ve soaked yourself through and it would be embarrassing. possibly. desperately, you crave her more than anyone, you just need to be satiated. or sedated if she turns you down. 

you’ve both been here before, years ago, but it feels just as it’s always been. somehow, you knew this would be your fate tonight. tongue tied with the woman you’ve never been able to get over. she comes into your life like nothing has changed. you let her, it makes you feel like a love struck idiot all over again. 

well, tonight. you’re more high strung than anything. the both of you are. 

the white of your eyes populated by red little lines, hooded as you have her pinned to the wooden door of a vacant room. all you have is a simple bra concealing your from her, delicate panties accentuating her divine hips. soft skin to the touch as you rub her hip bone with the pad of your thumb, drawing goosebumps in your wake. 

you can’t help but look at her perfectly sculpted breast, soft stomach, the collarbones you crave to sink your teeth into. it’s what you dreamed of. even if inebriation took over you both, if you got to have her? it didn’t really matter at all. not really. 

locking the door, you’re pulling her towards the bed as you take a seat in the middle as she stands there for you. “take them off.” you command, gesturing with a tilt of your head. she slips them off, not so gracefully, tripping as she does so. she warns you with her warm eyes to not utter a fucking word. 

but you can’t help the small giggle you try to stifle. it’s impossible to conceal. 

“you sure you want to test me?” she pushes, raising her bold eyebrows at you. intentionally, you snap your bra off before saying “no ma’am. wouldn’t dream of disappointing you.” instantly, the power becomes hers. as if it was ever anything different. a silent hope, wanting to have it for once, but with her? you crumble. 

her beautifully dark hair is a mess, from your endless pulling. “can you, um—” she raises her expressive brows indicating for you to give in and tell her. you try your best, but you’re so distracted by her beauty, the cannabis taking over as you’re impossibly wet, drooling over having your dream girl back. even if it’s for a short time, she’s here. 

“i want you to sit on my face, tonight. please?” she stalks you like her prey, climbing up your body before resting at your hips, before leaning down and whispering in your ear, “hm, finally seems like someone learned their manners.” the soft chuckle cured you of the last time before she wastes no more time. not a fucking  second. 

it’s all so quick. happening in a flash of your eyes, maybe it’s the weed and maybe it’s just her. the instant sigh released from her lips makes your thighs clench. you’re thankful she is facing you or else she’d make you split them apart. you know she would. 

it’s been too long since you’ve had her. your tongue licking a bold strip from her clit, sliding down her labia until lightly dipping into her hold before traveling back up her pearl of pleasure. you’re missing the way her head is being thrown back with your eyes shut as you suckle on your favorite meal. being deprived of the sweet taste of her cunt for so long, you eat it up as if you’ve been starved. 

“s’good baby, fuck. forgot how good your mo—” you spit dramatically on her cunt, smothering your spit on her pussy with your thumb, applying light pressure on her clit. “yeah , you should have never forgotten, baby. i always take care of you, don’t i?” slapping her supple ass with your free hand. 

dina sinks down the extra weight she’d been holding, suffocating you with her slick. you open your eyes for a moment to take her in, only to find she’s looking right back. “hi angel” she whispers, making you giggle softly. 

desperately, you’re trying to recall the last time she’s been this light hearted but you can’t. is it possible she’s changed? fuck, the possibility of new beginning is sent throughout your cunt. the idea only latches onto your brain for a moment before dina’s moaning again, rolling her hips deliciously, fucking your face and looking gorgeous doing it. 

“is this what you want, huh? fuck…need to cum so fucking badly.” she moves her hips quickly, lost in the way you’re fucking the shit of her. skilled tongue giving her your best, hoping she’ll paint yours in return. she knows she never would’ve succumbed so easily if it wasn’t for the cannabis. dina, always one to savor. not go through the motions so quickly, but now she doesn’t really give a shit. all she craves is the high she knows you can offer. 

fully focusing on her clit, you suck the pearl into your mouth, flicking your tongue over, over, and over. dina’s delicious thighs began to shake. irrevocably so. it’s her tell. right before she cums, each and every time, they shake. high pitched moans escape as she tries to regain composure but it’s useless. she’s far gone and you’re more than happy to send her tumbling over the edge. 

“jus’ let go baby, yeah? just me ‘nd you. cum for me mommy? please?” you pause before saying what you know will send her over the edge. “c’mon, making a fucking mess all over my face. i can’t take it, babygirl. promise.” 

#guys....i dont think i can write cute little blurbs anymore #actually crying about it #dina nolastname #dina woodward #dina x reader #dina x female reader #dina smut #dina nolastname x reader #dina woodward x reader #dina woodward smut #tlou x reader #dina x masc reader

[amalthiaph]

I took an interest in The Bad Batch around the tailend of S2. It's not news to Tumblr that I almost slept on this show. And I cannot thank Caleb Dume enough for being the reason why I pressed the play button for this one. While I haven't been around for most of its active run, and I wish I had been, the last year has been among the best months of my life.

This show challenged my morals, and taught me lessons that I will forever take with me.

Tech taught me to embrace and take pride in who I am. I now think that I am not something that needs to be cured. I needed to be understood and accepted. He taught me that we deserved to be loved and be allowed to live the way we want to (as long as we are not causing harm to ourselves or to others).

Hunter taught me that at the end of the day, we're all still humans. We make mistakes. We fail. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And I should also take care of my hair bec I cannot accept that a man in a galactic war have better hair than me (Okay, did you honestly think I'm gonna be serious this entire essay?)

Crosshair taught me that at the end of the day, we really are still humans. Sometimes, we make choices that not everyone will understand or agree to. Sometimes, we don't even understand our own choices. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And that I should also go to therapy bec istg my hand shakes like hell I always need to rely on a pen stabilizer when doing my artworks.

Wrecker taught me that in this world where we can be anything, always choose to be kind. He is a great man who would always be there for everyone, and I hope that one day, I can be that person too. He is afraid of heights, but he climbs and go on high places anyway. Like him, I should also start conquering my fears. Dear Wrecker, I did try conquering my fear of heights last March 9 but I can't. I will try again.

Echo taught me to always fight for the greater good. Almost two years ago, me and a group of people campaigned for a great tomorrow. With pink flags and pink balloons, we worked on our little thing I like to call our rebellion. Sadly, we lost. At times, I am thinking of just giving up bec that's democracy and I cannot go against the people's decision, but characters like Echo and the rest of Rogue One taught me that nothing should ever stop me for fighting for the people's rights and that my love for my fellow citizens should always come first before hatred.

And lastly, Omega taught me to be curious, or more likely to not be ashamed for being curious. Learn about the world. Learn about lots of things. We never know when we need it. While I could say be good at strategy and win 30 grand on card games, nahhh, I'm not that smart.

I also learned to reevalutate myself as an artist. This show taught me integrity. I had ranted about this lately but these characters challenged me in terms of art. I knew that the creators aren't best at proper representation. While I could draw them as they are in the show, I choose to stand for what is right, and represent them as properly as my skills could. In the more technical side, I became good at drawing armors. And this little Actors AU Draw Series taught me to be responsible; I tried my very best to create and post them on time. This increased my productivity.

But enough about me.

There's something I realized two nights ago; we, the fandom, are Bad Batchers ourselves. We can consider ourselves a family, but not one of us is the same and we're all interesting, and capable in our own unique ways. We can have our own opinion and stand about something and still coexist. Like our favorite charactera, we embrace and celebrate our differences.

This show may end. No more Bad Batch Eves, no more cryptic tweets that cause us to hyperventilate, no more Bad Batch Wednesdays but it will live on, through us.

I know there will be a day where we decrease in number, one by one, little by little, but still, the show will live on through our actions, our opinions, our choices we make after May 1, 2024 because I know that all of us were changed in some ways by these characters and this show.

To the crew, your cryptic tweets caused me sleepless nights, but thank you so, so much. It is through your hardwork that we had this wonderful show. Thank you for making every second of the past year so worthwhile and enjoyable for me and for everyone.

However this show will end, whether happy or sad, I am glad it happened. However short my time was with them, I am happy I had been here. However short my time with everyone in the fandom was or if some of you leave one day, still, thank you so much for being part of my life; I am so happy I met all of you.

To Clone Force 99, thank you. I've never loved anything like this before. May the Force be with you.

#the bad batch #tbb s3 #tbb #star wars #amalthia cried while writing this

[zhoufeis]

What just bothers me simply about the discussion of TTPD being all so great is neither the fact that some reviewers literally ignore some of the very gruesome lyrics this album has to offer nor the fact that the whole album has the same tune and I could not tell apart these tracks even if I wanted to, no. After all, we can always argue that tastes are different... arguably. It's something utterly different that's bothering me.

It's three things entirely different.

1) The fact we pretend 31 break-up tracks, written entirely out of the perspective of victimhood, of some love stories are worth calling "The Tortured Poets Department". Mind you, Swift, I like love songs, I like break-up songs, I like them poetically, I like when they touch me. But writing 31 break-up songs (not entirely, right, more like 25 or so) for one album makes me wonder if there is anything deeper... more touching to write about. You stay on the surface describing relationships (romantic as well as parasocial) in which you come out as a victim. But the self-reflection is missing entirely. And if I learned one thing in language classes it's that it's poetically dull if we only ever stay on the surface. We gotta dig deeper. And I'm not referring to some poetic lines to make a song sound more beautiful. I'm talking about true depth, true self-reflection, something that makes you defenseless. Cause all this woman does is writing songs out of the perspective of defense - and victimhood. Never does she actually draw herself as defenseless or vulnerable, always knowing how to use the right words to make her fans defend her.

2) Which leads me to that other thing that really bothers me. Her PR team was more involved in this album than the persona of Taylor Swift could ever be. Or maybe Taylor Swift is only PR at this point. Maybe there is no actual person behind all of this. Cause if there's one thing that's utterly apparent, it is that this album hinges SOLELY on any media drama she was involved in. Everyone out there trying to decipher which song is about whom - is this storytelling? Is this poetry? If I only care about songs and judge them by who they are about? The beauty of music is that it binds people together, makes people feel heard or seen through the text and voice of another person. What she's doing isn't that. She is not binding people together by selling her songs as something that could happen to anyone, no, all of it is always only about one person's story - her own. She also doesn't create fictional stories to write about, things to further the limits of our imagination and tell a story that doesn't even exist, and never will. She doesn't use imagination, she doesn't try to connect to other people, she's trying only to connect people to HER. Can this album even be judged neutrally if everyone just knows about her relationships and is guessing who the songs are about? Is there one person out there like "I have never seen any of the TS relationship drama and the like, and I only like to review this album lyrically and sonically by the lyrics and tune within"? Because she is SO present in everyday media press, it is impossible to miss her relationship drama. So are we actually still reviewing Swift's album as a standalone media for its sound and lyrics? Or are we actually just reviewing TS's terrible love life which she apparently has no responsibility for? And mind you all - she knows exactly what she's doing. Don't even think for a second she doesn't know that you all are following her every footstep. Don't think she doesn't use it to her advantage. (Aside from that, she has been considered a storyteller for so long, but she seems to have a lack of stories she can come up with if the only ones she writes about are her own...)

3) Which leads to the entire capitalist thinking behind the release of this album. Not only did she publish 19 different versions of this album to be acquired, no, she also literally had millions of fans pre-ordering her (normal-length) album, only to drop an extended version right after its release. Which means that all these fans had to buy yet another album. And don't think she meant this as a surprise for her fans - she did that cause that's how you make money. Cause that's how capitalism works. And she's part of the problem.

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift #tagging with TS too cause it's valid criticism and no hate #(fyi tho i couldn't stand her since i first saw her in 2009 :D) #mischa for ts

[oopsiedaisymae]

the audience for this post is like, the two people who have already seen it on discord, but nonetheless, i want to share.

my mc's name is winter. she's pretty straight-laced, logical, generally rule-abiding but will get into trouble if she finds herself lacking a challenge or something to keep her hands busy. on my obey me writing blog (cuz i have a twst one now too!) i have plans to write for her as an mc and ship her with solomon. but i ALSO have plans to write a winter x mc au and. i've been having some really good thoughts on that.

for starters, the general premise is that the exchange program accepted three being from each realm (which makes room for the angel oc i have brewing... 👀) and she's one of human exchange students. she's a self-taught sorcerer that's very much stuck at a beginner level, in part due to the fact that she had no idea all of this magical realm stuff existed before coming to the devildom. she applied for the exchange program in hopes to get more credits for her phd. obviously, she was not prepared for this situation, but she adapts pretty quickly and does well at RAD.

since it's a winter x reader au, winter lives at purgatory hall with the other exchange students. their dynamic is so wonderful to me-- in the house of misfits, she fits right in. she's an amateur writer, so she loves chatting with simeon over tea about novel ideas and eventually becomes a pretty faithful TSL fan. she's an exasperated solomon wrangler who dodges his cooking at every turn and is too prideful to ask the best sorcerer the human world has to offer for help with her magical studies. she's not all that fond of children, yet she finds herself protective of luke, letting down her guard to bake with him in the afternoons for all of their new friends. even raphael, someone she struggles to interact with (bc they're both oh-so-awkward) earbs her respect and affection over time as they're roped into shenanigans by their roommates. they make the dorm a home together.

but you? oh, how she's hopelessly in love with you.

in the chaos of the devildom, somehow her eyes are always drawn to you. she's not all that interested in making friends when she first arrives, dedicating all her energy to settling herself in the realm. but there's always things drawing you to each other. classwork, exchange program responsibilities, your growing camradarie with her roommates at purgaory hall. it's inevitable that you guys become friendly. she's awkward and always a bit stressed or nervous, but she's friendly enough in your interactions early on that you swap numbers about halfway through the year. groupwork turns into occasional text conversations, and eventually you're close enough to gravitate towards each other for a simple conversation at parties. by the time the exchange program ends, you're making promises to make time for each other in the human realm.

life happens. you guys keep up a friendship through texts and video calls. winter finds herself longing for an excuse to be intertwined in your life again. RAD was a rigorous school, but she'd do it all again to have an excuse to be dragged into late night study sessions with you. watching your life change from a small screen fills her with a strange sense of emptiness. when the call ends, do you still think about her?

your return to the devildom is revealed to her through a cheeky text from solomon. she's so incredibly *annoyed.* of course he'd use magic to steal you away and whisk you back to the devildom without her. oh, and simeon and luke are returning, too? lovely. the whole gang's meeting up eithout her. envious? never, she wouldn't stoop so--

she's jealous. obviously. there's some back and forth where he teases her (and makes her ask *politely* for his assistance) until he steps away for a moment to bribg her back to the devildom. finally, you're reunited!

it's in this stretch of time that she falls in love with you. oh, winter barnett, someone who adamantly denies herself pleasure in many forms, finds herself sickeningly subdued as she falls for you. once the realization hits her, it's like a poison has flooded her veins, leaving her in a stupor. she expected herself to be more resistant to the idea, but honestly... who is she to resist your charms? she knows you. she watched all seven of the demon brothers fall for you over the course of a year. it only feels natural to be drawn to you in the same way. you... so determined, so strong, resilent in the face of overwhelming chaos and somehow still standing at the end of it.

winter's a human. she's got a small farm in vermont and very mediocre magic to her name. she's not a famous demon, nor and angel, nor a powerful immortal. on some level, she knows she's not enough for you. maybe that's why she's content to keep her mouth shut for awhile.

maybe it's enough to sit quietly by your side, admiring your when you're not looking. maybe it's best to bide her time and hope that she can catch your eye one day. until then, she's content with the little things-- your smile, your texts, your laugh, the way you look at her from across the classroom and the way she's completely smitten against all odds.

#sorry this is a lot. i have so many thoughts about her #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me oc #obey me oc x reader #obey me oc: winter barnett #daisy talks

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At the start of this project all I wanted was to 'learn how to draw' using comics as a medium and the MDZS audio drama as inspiration.

I've come *very* far from making simple, 3 panel black and white comics, and I truly do intend to go even further. Thank you to everyone who cheered me on throughout 2023, it has been an incredible year in so many ways I never could have imagined. I look forwards to drawing throughout 2024 B*)

#poorly drawn mdzs #art summary #It's so interesting looking back at how my style and technique changed throughout the year! #I used PD-wwx as the consistent factor (October is an exception) and you can see so many processes going on. #My little petri dish amoeba (with a little red bow to tell him apart from the other amoeba) <3 #Whether it's getting new markers or trying out a new shading style - it's cool seeing a snapshot of my journey like this B*) #There's certainly been a slower curve to my overt improvement *but* I have become so much faster! #My life outside of drawing has been hectic and at several points extremely stressful this year. For all the work this blog has been- #-It has truly been a life saving anchor when the darkest of times have hit. #Love is hard work. Change is even harder work. Sticking to a goal I set out for myself and striving to keep going was worth it. #And I love drawing. I think there has always been something in me that longed for this. And it is finally tangible! I can draw!!! #I wanted to make a more elaborate year reflection where I looked back at my favourite comics and jokes. #but I'll leave that to the one year anniversary. #I have also been collecting a ton of statistics throughout the year and I am desperate to share them. I'm that kind of nerd B*) #I can never say it enough: Thank you all for the kindness and support. I wish everyone a lovely 2024!!!

[silasbug]

fanart for blatantblue's Crime and Remission, Chapter 11.

(mostly a doodle because at some point i wasn't sure what to do anymore... so i left it in of fear of wrecking it. wasn't sure about the BG effect either, so version without below.)

#brought to you by my 'killing god' playlist because i got so aggressively frustrated with the anatomy & would've otherwise exploded #blood and guts everywhere you feel me #i am BEGGING you to ignore the hands i don't know what i'm doing #just a silly with a pen and good intentions #and too many feelings. #let us also pretend that the black backgrounds are representative of Ominis' perception of the world #honestly i just like adding the particle effect because it makes me think of those sun beams that stream in through the window #and highlight the dust floating in the air. & since the house has been uninhabited for a while.. so much dust #that sight is just somehow always a fond memory for me when i think about places that used to be home #more sneez-y than pretty but i'm hoping for those sunny days for the two of them #props are a needless distraction #who needs a couch when you can float your ass right off the ground? #wouldve loved to draw the palm kiss but alas. this was already a struggle #his nose is off hm #the things that happen when you look at something for too long #bug.art

[spaceratprodigy]

even tho I don't care for that lil doodle dump from way back when anymore I soooo badly wanna redraw where they both hide their love letters oughhhh

#partly inspired by something me and jay were talking abt regarding them leaving gifts for each other and how that even starts happening #but ough drawing him hiding notes from her in his books/using them as bookmarks #at the time I drew her keeping the notes from him under her pillow which was heavily inspired by my bf tbh #(been together 7 years and man has saved every single love note I've ever written him and he always kept them in or around his bed) #I'm in a lovey emotional mood today I'm thinking abt my favs but I need to bake all day long so BIG SIGH #rambling #faith and max

[volensnolenss]

Get up, baby!

—✦ SUMMARY: The way jjk men try to wake you up despite your great desire to sleep on;

— CHARACTERS: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi;

— CONTENT: sfw! fluff, lots of kisses, soft;

✧˚.𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

You sullenly hid your head in a pillow from the annoying rays of the sun that made their way through the window. Satoru, grinning, approached your sleeping face, starting to leave short kisses on your cheeks, gradually descending to your shoulders.

“Satoru, it's too early, I want to sleep.” You mumbled softly and indistinctly as he lifted you up and held you in his pleasant embrace, burying his head in your neck.

His hot breath covered your collarbones, tickling you slightly;

Every time Satoru wakes up before you, without thinking about falling asleep further – he wants to look at you every morning, finding something new for himself in you. He takes mental pictures, storing them in his head, and then he remembers you when you are not with him.

“But that's not the reason I let you go, because you're so cute when you're sleepy.” He nuzzled your forehead when you tilted your head back against his chest. “Then I'll fall asleep on you. Satoru laughed and, slowly leaning back, he gave you the opportunity to turn around and lie down again. You rested your head on his chest while he watched you, smiling.

“My beauty. I love mornings only because of you.”He whispered, stroking your head.

✧˚.𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

His fingers carefully ran through your hair, drawing relaxing lines with smooth movements.

“Suguru?” Without opening your eyes, you sighed softly, continuing to be blissful from his touch.

“Sleepyhead, don't you think it's time to get up?”

His palm slowly moved to your back, starting to stroke you with long and sweet movements, trying to convey care and love for you in them.

Suguru finds something fascinating and noteworthy in your facial expressions: isn't it a miracle how his touch affects you?

Geto gently brushed your curls aside and lowered himself to you, imprinting kisses on your neck. “Do you like it?” The corners of his lips stretched out, hearing your soft sounds of ecstasy. “I wish I always had a morning like this.” He moved to your temple and lowered himself, lightly bit your earlobe, “Then let me continue, pretty.”

Ignoring the fallen strap of your T-shirt, he dressed your bare cool shoulders with the tenderness of his affectionate lips.

You shifted, propped yourself up on your elbows and addressed him drowsily, causing laughter in his chest “You're too good.”

✧˚.𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He entered the bedroom, making sure that you were still asleep, without making any attempt to wake up. You covered your eyes with your hand from the light that was in your way, but Nanami sat down on the bed, took it and kissed it slowly.

“Another 5 minutes, honestly.” You lied, you won't have 5 minutes, and he knows it perfectly well, so he has no other option but to start groping you.

“Are you sure you have enough time?” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and mischievously gently tapped the tip of your nose, making you wince. You took his hand in yours and held it up to your face, propping it under your chin.

“Your hands are so nice, Kento.”

Nanami grinned and, approaching, kissed you on the forehead.

“How long has it been?

“You're late, darling.”

“What?!” You jumped out of bed, feeling the coolness of the room, but his hands stopped you “I was joking” He tried to keep his face serious, but looking at you, Nanami's lips turned into a small smile.

“Oh, don't joke like that!” You frowned and, not letting him pull you to him, put your head on his lap.

“You're not going anywhere now.” You wrapped your arms around him, preventing him from moving that way.

✧˚.𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

You were waking up from a dream, feeling something strange running over your hand, and when you woke up, you just remembered which man you were in a relationship with.

“Are you awake?” Sukuna still continued to tickle your skin with his nails, knowing full well that you were no longer asleep. “Don't be silent, doll, I know.” He traced the curves of your waist with his wide palm, shaking his head and grinning at how naive you look in front of him.

“Stop playing games” He pulled you to him and pressed your back to his chest and, resting his head on his hand, began to look at you.

“Maybe that's not how I want you to treat me.” You opened one eye and looked at him: Sukuna sighed in displeasure, rolling his eyes.

“Do you want me to do this?” He kissed your neck, biting it a little “Or maybe like this?” he grabbed your hip and squeezed it tightly, which made you squirm in bed.

“No-o-o.” You turned to him, removing his hand.

“Then what do you want?!” He stood up and loomed over you, looking at you with furrowed brows and displeased curled lips. “This is definitely not how I want to wake up.”You crossed your arms and turned your head away from him.

“Crotchety girl.” You immediately turned to him, but he didn't let you answer, and lifted your head by the chin, “But you're mine.”

✧˚.𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢

In general, it's hard for both of you to get up in the morning, but Megumi has more determination than you, so he has to tear you away from sleep in every way.

He woke up to the ringing of the alarm clock and was surprised that you did not react to him in any way, continuing to sleep and hug him tightly.

“Hey, can you let me go?” But you didn't react to him in any way and settled comfortably on his arm. Fushiguro lay there for a few minutes, trying to wake you up as gently as possible.

He still managed to get out of your trap and decided to shake you slightly by the shoulders “Get up!”

“You're Sleeping Beauty...” A strange thought flashed through Megumi's mind, but... he didn't have any other options in his sleepy state yet.

He sank down closer to you and trying to touch your cheek, you suddenly turned your head to the side, which is why he briefly kissed you on the lips. Fushiguro blushed when you opened your eyes and, swallowing, spoke to you “Good morning” and you beamed with a smile, pouncing on top of him “Aw, Megumi, are you really gentle?!”

“This is my shadow side.” He propped himself up on his elbows while you put your arms around his neck, smiling imperceptibly.

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi x y/n

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“You’ve fallen for them, haven’t you?” Price asked, following Simon’s line of sight, his eyes landing on your figure.

Your laughter filled the air, causing a smile to form on both the men’s lips. They’d been watching you for the last few minutes, casually joking about with Soap.

Simon was quiet as his mind filled with thoughts of you. The way you always smiled at him, even in the worst of times. The way you laughed so care free, a laugh that could cure any ailment Simon could possibly have. The way you cared for him, more than he’d ever had someone care for him in his life.

Prices eyes drifted back toward Simon, a small smile dancing on his lips. “It warms an old man’s heart you know.”

Simon looked over at his captain, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s that?”

“I’ve known you for how many years, Simon?” Price rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he held Simon’s gaze. “Never once have I seen you smile the way you do around them. You deserve to be happy, son.”

Simon let Price’s words sink in, the prospect of being with you in that way was not entirely unwelcome for Simon. But he was scared. Simon was such a broken mess of a man that he truly believed nothing could piece him back together.

Price stood, drawing Simon’s attention back to him, and clasped Simon’s shoulder firmly. “Don’t let that thick skull of yours prevent you from being happy. Take it from someone who knows.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon found you again later that day, his palms sweaty from his nerves. “Hey, you got a sec?”

You looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of you, the warm smile lining your lips as you looked at Simon had his knees nearly buckling. “Of course.”

Any confidence Simon had walking in there, was now gone as he stared down at you. Your E/C eyes melting his insides as he struggled to formulate the words he’d just practiced earlier.

“I..” Damnit! What was wrong with him? He was Simon fucking Riley for god sakes. He was supposed to be fearless. Yet here he was rendered a stuttering mess in front of you. “Fuck.”

You let out a soft giggle, causing Simon’s insides to warm. “Is everything okay, Si?”

Your nickname for him always had Simons brain in a fog, and it certainly wasn’t helping his case in this moment. “Yeah, yeah I just uh..”

You patiently watched as Simon struggled to form the words, your smile never faltering as his eyes drifted toward your lips.

“Are you free later?” He finally asked, his words coming out rushed.

“Is there a training?” You pondered, your mind flicking through the upcoming training schedule. “I wasn’t made-.”

“No.” Simon interjected. “It’s uh.. it’d just be you and I. There’s this pub I like to go to by base.”

Simon didn’t think it possible, but your smile widened even more, taking up the entire lower half of your face. “Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Riley?”

His cheeks burned crimson as your teasing, his belly doing flip flops as he gave you a curt nod. “Affirmative.”

“I would love that.” You said, as you stood to your feet. “It’s about damn time you asked me.”

Simon smiled brighter and wider than he’d ever had in his life, his mind now swirling with thoughts of the perfect first date. For the first time in a long time, Simon Riley was excited.

Maybe something could piece together his broken self after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: please excuse my multiple Simon fluff pieces. Ya girl has to heal🥹

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2

[yamujiburo]

Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs. 

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

#hanamusa #hanamusashipping

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄Simon has himself a merry little Christmas - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge

Simon opens his eyes to an empty bed on Christmas morning.

His breath catches in his chest when his hand slides across the sheets, instinctively seeking the warmth of your body, only to discover your side of the bed empty. 

His rational, tactical, professional mind tells him you've probably just gotten up with the baby. That for some reason, he slept too deeply and didn't wake up when she did this morning, like he usually does. You're in the guest room, Emmaline's room, now, or in the kitchen. Maybe you're already drinking your first cup of coffee. You're fine. The baby is fine. Nothing is wrong. 

But his heart... his heart screams. Terror ices his veins, adrenaline and fear taking control of his gross motor skills, legs twisting beneath him as he stumbles out of bed and races for the door. They’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine-

“Sweetheart?” His voice betrays him. He sounds stressed, anxiety piquing, frantically turning the corner into the kitchen. Not again, he can’t do this again, this can’t happen again… 

It’s empty. The front door is still locked, and so is the patio’s, twinkling Christmas tree glowing in the late dawn light. His mind splits. Check Emmaline’s room, they’re probably in there, get control of yourself… and… the glock 19 is closest, should still be under the top shelf, call Price, mobilize the team- 

“Simon?” He whirls at the sound of your voice, air rushing out of his lungs, drawing into a relieved laugh. Emmaline is on your hip in a green, white, and red striped elf costume, complete with a pointed hat, jingle bell dangling from the top. “Morning.” You smile, and so does the baby. “Santa’s elf wanted to surprise you.” You’re still a little sleepy, eyes tired, and he does a double take when he realizes you’re in your underwear and one of his t shirts. 

“I’m… surprised.” Bloody hell. His brain isn’t working, his mouth rendering him stupid, still caught in fight or flight, and your lips subtly twist before your eyes soften, realization soft across your features. 

“Are you okay?” You question, and he nods, not trusting himself to not say something else moronic, flailing in the silence, failing. It’s been weeks since he’s felt like this, inept, clumsy, senseless, too easily settled into a life with you after that pipe burst in your flat and practically delivered him a holiday miracle, a treasure deposited right into his lap. “Here,” you push Emma into his arms, soft fingers over top his as you hand her off, looking up at him with that level trust, adoration that you’re always providing him, in your eyes. Just holding Emmaline settles the anxiety in his heart, soothes the raw buzzing that’s tearing through his head, and you smile, butting your head into his shoulder and placing a kiss there. “Will you take her while I get dressed?” 

“Yeah.” He croaks, as you squeeze his forearm, turning away. “Sweetheart,” he calls, stopping you in your tracks. He wants to tell you he thinks he loves you; he thinks he’d die without you; he thinks you’re the greatest thing he’s ever had, ever held, thinks you saved him, but nothing comes out. You hold his gaze for a second, and then two, before whispering.

“I know… me too.” Of course you do. You pause, cocking your head. “Could you make some coffee? Gonna be a long day.” You raise an eyebrow towards the Christmas tree, where all of Emma’s gifts sit perfectly arranged, and he nods. He can do that.

“Just three scoops of this,” he tells Emma, portioning out the coffee into the filter as she babbles at him from her perch in his other arm. “Mama likes it pretty strong, doesn’t she? And then some water, like this.” He pours the pitcher into the machine’s reservoir, flicking on the power and listening to the gurgle as he makes his way to the couch. He bounces Emma on his knee, little hands waving in the air, trying to grab the end of her hat and gnaw on it. The tree sparkles behind her, lights and ornaments all aglow, and she giggles when she tips herself forward, planting onto his chest with both hands. “Easy, baby girl.” Rolling onto her back in the crook of his arm, she squirms, smiling up at him, finger extended towards his chin. “What is it, eh?” He leans, and she pokes his cheek, cooing with a satisfied grunt. She fits so naturally in his side, just like you do, and he settles into the cushions, relaxing, allowing her to explore, tactile touch padding across his face, little fingernails scratching at his stubble.

“You two look cozy.” You murmur with a yawn, cup of coffee steaming in your palms. He smiles, and Emma lifts her head to look for you, tracking the sound of your voice. You perch at his other side, knees tucking up next to his hip, nestling your head against his shoulder, fingers tracing Emmaline’s cheek. “Whatcha doing sweet pea?” He brushes a kiss across the top of your head, and you sigh, arm wrapping around his stomach. "This is nice."

"It is." He agrees. It's more than nice, it's everything. Everything he didn't know was possible, everything he didn't know he wanted. It's nice, spending Christmas with his girls, cuddled up together on his couch in front of a Christmas tree that's loaded with presents for the baby. A Christmas, the holiday he used to shun… now brought back to life by you. Nice is a good word to describe it, but others flit through his mind as well: perfect, redeeming, salvation.

Purpose.

He takes a ragged breath, and you lean back to look at him, waiting.

"It's more than nice, sweetheart, it's... I... never thought, never dreamed this could happen in my life. You and Emmaline, you're... everything to me." He pauses, cradling your face, watching how your eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I want," he swallows the lump in his throat. "I want you to stay. I want you to be here. Always." He needs you to stay, needs you like he needs air to breathe, needs you like he's never needed, never wanted, anything before in his life. He'd give you the world, if he could, wrap it up nicely and put it beneath the tree, but he doesn't know how to say that, how to explain.

He's grateful he doesn't have to.

"I'll be here, Simon. I'll be right here. With you." You take his hand, clutching onto him tightly. It's selfish, what he wants. Stupid. But he's not a good man... he's yours, and he'll be as wicked, as awful as he must to keep you and Emmaline safe. You're the only good thing about him now, and he'd dig himself free from a shallow grave all over again, just to crawl home to you. You've changed him, deeply. Fundamentally. Taught him the truth of love, of healing, your grief not so much different from his own, and he knows he'd die for you, he'd die for you ten thousand times.

Emmaline babbles at the sound of your voice, and you smile at her, not bothering to wipe away the tear that tracks down your cheek. "We're here. We'll stay. As long as you want us."

And christ, if that isn't the best Christmas gift he's ever be given.

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #codholiday2023

[eupheme]

— are you mine?

joel miller x f!reader

rated t - 4.4k

tags: over-protective and soft jackson!joel, partners-to-lovers, mutual jealousy, secrets, miscommunication and rumors, light angst, valentine’s day

a little valentine’s day gift for the lovely @sweetercalypso - I was so thrilled to get you for the Space Sister’s exchange! I really hope you like it! 💌💕

A change in your usual patrol schedule, a dash of over-protectiveness, and a gossipy partner leads to you desperately wish you could turn back time.

Because how can you face Joel, after this?

"I don't like it."

His voice comes from next to your shoulder. Rough and low - your eyes drifting over heavy, muddied boots, then up. Trying not to linger where his strong arms cross over a broad chest, the pull of fabric against skin where the sleeves are rolled up to elbows.

"Don't like what?" You ask, as your plate and mug join the pile of others in the bin to be washed. Finishing up a quick breakfast in the mess hall before your patrol shift begins.

A second lingers, before Joel answers.

"Don't like the thought of you out there without me."

His answer makes your stomach flip, butterflies already sprouting at the unexpected encounter. You hadn't thought you'd see Joel until later - an unexpected change in last night’s schedule. Sending him out from evening until dawn, and leaving you with a new partner for this morning.

"You're the one that swapped shifts." You point out, finally glancing his way. Seeing the pull of his brows, the shift as he leans against one of the heavy wooden support beams, "Anyways, I won't be alone. They have me with William."

The mark between his brows deepens, "Don't know if I like that, either."

Your own eyebrows raise, "What's wrong with William?"

He doesn't answer - the dark pull of his gaze breaking, as his eyes drop.

"Heard rumor there might be someone in the woods," Joel changes the subject, "Dirt kicked over the ashes, footsteps leading off to the east. No sign of anyone, but that don’t mean they ain’t hangin' around.”

He's worried, you think. Your hand reaches out, hovering for just a moment before you're clapping his bicep, instead of his bare forearm.

"Just because there was someone there, doesn't mean they're bad." The touch lingers for a moment, before your hand is dropping - shoving into your jacket pocket, "Besides, it’s daylight now. We'll be fine. Always are."

His look is dark, at your words.

An optimism lingering in you that has long been leached from his system. An uneasiness that lingers in his blood and bones - a shift of his his as he reaches to draw something out of his back pocket. Pressing it into your hand, when you reach for it without thinking.

"Know how to use this?"

It's a knife - his knife -  the folded handle fitting his broad hand but feeling more like a dagger in yours.  

“Joel, please-” You all but huff, torn between annoyed and touched. Reaching out to hand it back, but he’s shifting sideways to dodge you. 

“Humor me, alright?” He’s grumbling - but he's not done - fishing something else from his jacket pocket. Holding it out for you to take as well - heavy and plastic in your other hand.

You flip it over, seeing the small antenna fit above the speaker, the buttons worn bare and smooth beneath. A gleam of red, the light already on and winking.

"Ellie's got the other. I'll get it from her this morning." He explains, "Two-way radio. You need anything or run into anyone, I'll know."

It would be stifling, if it were anyone else.

Insulting, perhaps. 

But knowing that Ellie does this for Joel soothes you, teeth biting into your lip to hold back your smile.

And you can’t deny that you did feel a little uneasy, heading out without your partner.

"Fine.” You tell him, with a sigh.

“But just this once."

The ground crunches beneath your feet, a frost and thin snow freezing and blanketing the green pokes of grass overnight. 

You’re already ready for spring, even though the world has just creeped into February. Missing the crunch of leaves instead of ice. Yearning for the daffodils and crocuses to pop up, as the earth thaws.

But for now - you’re content to concede that it’s easier to do your job, at least. The only damaged grass around you, the only marks in the dirt, are your own. 

Quiet, idle conversation with William passing as you take the usual route - your rucksack a familiar weight against your shoulders. Padded with the faded and patched feather-down of your coat as you weave between trees.

Checking traps for food, finding nothing. Not unusual when the rest of the world seems to be sleeping.

The sun is nearly overhead when you reach the watchtower, the spindly legs that hold the narrow room high in the sky. The rungs leading up are wide, but you still hold your breath as you climb. Only exhaling at the top, when both your feet are firmly on the metal platform - cold air sharp in your lungs with your inhale.

It's pretty up here. A clouded blue sky above, a suggestion of snow. A wistful hope that it will hold off until tomorrow, as your patrol partner unlocks the door - checking the inside before you follow.

Your rucksack lands with a thud just inside the door, which closes behind you. The windows are cracked, spider-webbing from the corners, but still holding firm enough that it shields you from some of the chill outside.

Looking out above some of the trees, giving you a peek of Jackson when you stand in the southern corner. 

Here, you can take a minute to breathe. To talk, while keeping watch and warm.

You can’t remember the last time you've been out with William. You didn't run in the same circles - he had a regular rotation of patrol partners. You had Joel, and sometimes Ellie, and you never found a reason to stray.

That thought, the change, had kept you busy on the patrol. Your mind wandered as your feet moved on your own, through well-known paths. Eyes seeing but your thoughts elsewhere.

He had seemed worried, at the mess hall.

Or - on edge, at least. Distracted.

There had been a quick rap on your door, a mumbled excuse about them needing him last night. Letting you know you'd be with someone else for your shift in the morning. A glance over his shoulder, nodding towards the figure that was waiting for him, before he was off.

And although he had made the switch, he sure didn't seem happy about it this morning.

William was friends with Jesse, who was friends with Ellie and Dina - you couldn't think of a reason for the ever-present mark that had deepened between his eyebrows.

You wonder why - because surely, a set of trained and fed partners would be more than a match for anyone drifting through the woods on their own. Even you weren't so nervous, and you didn't have the years and grit of someone like Joel.

And it wasn't like William was unprepared. He'd been doing patrols just as long as you had, maybe even a little longer.

It's here that you're drawn away, your companion’s voice breaking through your thoughts. His foot tapping yours, where you both sit on the old, wooden floor.

“Been a while, huh?”

You nod in agreement, offering the slightest lift of a smile, “Yeah. Been couple months, at least.”

“More than that. Bet it’s been close to a year.”

“Oh.” You blink, thinking back.

Wondering if that’s why his gaze has been on you so often this morning - that he’s nearly forgotten what you look like, “Guess I hadn’t noticed.”

You hadn’t realized it’s been that long. And at the same time, only that long.

Joel had drifted for a while in Jackson - untethered, but never far from the nearest door, the nearest wall. Content to watch from the fringes, to stay unnoticed. To slip out, when he’s had enough.

It still took a few months until he was rotated into the patrol. Until you met him, fully. Needling conversation out of him in these morning walks, or when the stars stretched out in the inky night.

Fully expecting him to trade out, when he could. Others often did - preferring a variety of company.

He never did. And neither did you. 

Things worked with Joel. And more than trust had bloomed in those lone hours together, something that had planted in your first days of seeing him. Carefully tended, nourished by the slivers of traded secrets and shared looks and moments where you had thought that just maybe…. maybe… you weren’t alone. 

"Don't know how you can stand patrolling with him. He’s a scary dude." William mutters, the sound low as you hunker down below the rim of the metal railing.

You frown. Joel's not scary. Not really. Not to you.

A grouch, for sure. All bark and bite, but it's never once been directed at you. 

“Joel?” You ask, clarifying.

“Yeah, Miller.” He gives you a sideways look, “You know he's killed people, right? Like, not just infected. People, people.”

The stories and rumors aren't new to you, they cling to him like ghosts. The whispers when he came into town had never stopped - but with time, they had lessened.

He had intimidated you, at first. A low voice and an angry look that would send anyone scurrying, but in the two years since he's been here, it's all faded at the edges. Gone soft. 

Looking back, knowing now how he looks after Ellie, looks after you - you’re not sure how you ever saw him that way. 

And you think, you hope, that deep down - he does care. That a part of him might feel the same.

It’s there in the way he sought you out this morning. More than a dislike in the change of his schedule - that wouldn’t have loosened the knife he carried.

It was there in your patrols. In the way you felt safe, with him - in how it flowed from outside those wooden walls to inside the town, inside his home. 

"We all have." You reply, with a sharp finality.

You didn't really remember the days before. Your life had been filled with spoken memories, but they weren't yours. The days of lawfulness are akin to fairy tales - merely stories, in your mind.

Who were you to judge, when your own hands were stained?

The infected weren’t the only monsters in this world. You’re sure he had his reasons, as did you.

William makes a sound of agreement, before dropping the subject. Content to watch the sparkle of snow, caught in the wind where it drifts down from tall branches.

That silence is broken a little later, with another question.

"You goin' to the dance later?"

Your legs stretch, toes wiggling in the chill of the room. Even enclosed, the cold seeps in through the cracks and thin panes of splintered glass.

"Of course."

Everyone would be.

The dances in Jackson were few and far between. Even more rare in these cold months - people preferring to stay warm, keep out of the snow that gathers in the alleys, the chill that whips down the rows of buildings. 

The day before had been spent decorating the church hall. There was an ache in your arms where you had helped Wendy roll out the dough for cookies - watching as the younger folks cut hearts out of recycled paper in the mess hall, to be strung along the walls. 

Underneath the stars above and in the glow of the lights, it would be beautiful.

There's a steadying breath next to you.

A moment, before he's asking, "You goin' with anyone?"

The rest comes in a rush, "I mean, do you wanna go with me?"

He turns your way, as you slowly go still. Too surprised to form an answer, trapped in his gaze with your wide eyes and parted lips.

"I-" You begin, and then falter.

William was nice. A little older than you. Showy, when he was with his friends, ready to do anything for a laugh.

Nice, but not Joel. No one was.

And deep down, you know that it's not like Joel thought of you that way. Returned those feelings, despite your wishes.

But you knew he'd be there. He'd go for Ellie, who would make sure she was there to see Dina.

And you'd go for Joel.

Even if just to see him, even if only for a moment.

The silence has stretched too long, an uneasy shifting next to you as he waits for an answer.

"There someone else?" The lilt of his voice has turned sharp, accusatory. Slicing through your thoughts, demanding your attention.

And again, you stumble. Still unable to form words, still too caught off guard - tongue twisted in knots. 

“There is, isn’t there?” Another verbal nudge, and it’s here that you find your voice. 

"There is... uh, someone." You manage - not ready to spill your guts, but there’s no chance you’ll agree to go with him.

"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he scoffs, "Who, Joel?"

He laughs at his own joke - and it's only now, as it's turned on you, that you notice how cruel it can sound. 

Your own eyes drop, head turning back towards the wall. 

And it’s here that your eyes snag on the cherry red gleam that peeks from the outside pocket of your rucksack. 

The radio. 

Forgotten entirely, in the long walk over. 

Panic courses through you.

Can he hear you, from here? Is he listening now?

You send up a silent wish, hoping that perhaps he's stepped out. That if you're lucky, the radio doesn't quite reach this far.

The silence gives you away, before you can brush it off - too caught up in the fear that twists in your stomach. A look had crossed your features that William had caught, the laughter dying as he pushes to his feet.

"You can't be serious." There's the mocking curl of his lip, a look of incredulity, "Miller? Are you out of your mind?"

There had been a flicker of thought - thinking that you could go over, switch it off. Or change the subject, tell Will to just shut up - but there’s something in his tone that distracts you - igniting your dread and embarrassment into anger and irritation. 

Making you slip up.

"So what if it is? It's none of your business-" You begin, but he cuts you off.

He’s fully turned your way now. The melting snow of his boots soaking into the hem of your jeans, with how he close he sits. Close enough that you can see the grit of his jaw, as he flings another barb at you. 

"You think he's going to treat you right? Do you even know where he was last night?”

It feels like a slap in the face - the way you flinch, cheeks burning.

“He… he was on patrol.” You stammer, unsure where this is headed.

“Could be. It’s easy to change logs when you got a brother out at the same time.” He shrugs, as if it’s nothing. As if your world hasn’t tilted on it’s axis, leaving you off-kilter.

Your heartbeat thunders behind your ribs, in your ears, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean… Fred said he saw him at Esther’s house. Last night and this morning.”

Rumors spread like wildfire in a town as close-knit as Jackson. It wasn’t hard to see where he was going, even if it pained you.

Esther, who tended the greenhouse.

Esther, who Joel had once been set up.

Esther, who split last month with her husband. 

Esther, who kept the house.

You’re frozen. As if the cold has sunken into your skin, bonded with your bones. An aching weight settling over your heart, stealing your breath.

Because in this moment, you truly realize how much you’d been thinking about him as yours. Suddenly realizing the depth of you feelings for Joel - how much he’s come to mean to you.

It’s devastating, thinking about him being someone else’s.

It just can’t be true.

But… 

But wouldn’t it explain his actions this morning?

Did you misread worry for guilt? Or secrecy?

“Look.” He says, after a pause. Giving you a pitying look, his hand reaching out to touch your shouler, “All I’m saying is that I’d never-”

It was all too much. 

You’ve had enough. 

"Can you just drop it?" You hiss, suddenly, "I'm not going with you."

The focus of his gaze still rests on you, as you push yourself to your feet. Grabbing for your bag - it's still a little early, but you're not about to stay stuck up in this tower with him.

"Where are you-" He's asking, as you shake your head - slipping past him, through the door.

"I'll see you back at Jackson."

Letting it slam shut behind you.

It's stupid, to wander off by yourself. Even if you weren’t too far from home, no more than a thirty minute walk. 

The rifle left in William's possession, where it still rested against the railing. Joel's blade heavy and cold in your hand as you fish it from your jacket pocket.

Matching the stone-heavy weight of your heart, as you follow your footsteps back towards town. Your thoughts twisting, as you silently bargain with whoever might be listening.

Wishing foolishly that you could turn back time. 

Content with even just not knowing.

Because that’s the worst part, right? That you know he knows. And that he knows you do. That surely - he heard it all.

If you were alone, if you hadn’t taken that radio, you’d still have your secret.

Maybe Joel wouldn’t have his, but you’d try to bear it. Find a way to put the pieces of your heart together, and try to move on.

Cherish those few more days, weeks, before he would have told you. Maybe by then, you could’ve acted happy.

But now, you’re certain he won’t want anything to do with you. Certain that you’ve ruined a good thing - not just the patrols, but your partnership, and friendship.

Because who would want to stick around with a girl with a stupid little crush?

It leaves you feeling flayed open. Grateful for the whip of the wind, giving you an excuse for the tears that spring to your eyes. 

For a moment - in your embarrassment - it leaves you even thinking about running away.

You'd survived for this long. It would be harder, on the outside. But perhaps, you could start over.

With a sigh, you crumple the thought up, and toss it away. It's no more than wishful thinking. No different than hoping the world would crack beneath your feet, and swallow you whole.

No…

You would have to bear it.

You're less than a mile from the wooden border around town, when you pick up the crunch of boots on snow. Fear prickles down your spine as the blade clicks open in your grasp, your pulse leaping beneath your skin.

The waver of a shadow, moving between the trees in front of you. You go still, squinting, tucking yourself behind one of the thick trunks.

They're alone.

It could be someone from town, but you'd heard there was only one set of boots near the fire they found, the night before. A quick glance over your shoulder - wishing you hadn't split off.

Wishing you had taken the rifle.

They move closer, and your breath catches as they call out.

Not just a greeting, but your name.

A wave of relief washes over you, you know that voice. This figure. The cock of his hip as he stands, the shoulders that slope when he sees you - a hand raised in greeting.

"Heard you leave. Shouldn't be out here by yourself."

The warm glow in your belly chills, at his words.

The acknowledgement that he had been listening souring your mood. It has you bristling at his tone, misreading his worry. 

"I'm fine." You wiggle his knife at him, the blade glinting in the afternoon sun, "Didn't have to come all this way."

In the path you take to skirt around him, you miss the pull of his brow - the frown that forms. The way he breaks into a jog to catch up behind you, staying a few steps back as he does a visual sweep of the woods behind you.

Your strides are long, focused on the crunch of grass beneath your feet. Eyes fixed ahead as he follows, until the tall wooden posts loom up ahead.

Above, and then through. 

If you can just make it home, you think that would be enough. The little house is only a few streets away from the edge.

Something that he hated - how it wasn’t safe enough.

Something that used to please you. 

He’s still following, your silent companion. Chivalrous, you suppose, to make sure you get home okay. Even after everything. 

You’re nearly there - feet taking you up the rickety steps for your porch - when that silence is finally broken.

“You know it ain’t true, right?

For as quiet as his voice is, it still seems to cut through the air, halting your step. Your eyes still fixed on the door ahead of you, but you find yourself stopping - waiting.

“There ain’t anybody else.”

There’s a weight in the way he says it. A confession, layered in the low pitch of his voice.

It has you turning. 

To where he stands, where your shadows meld together. And it’s only now that you see him - the intensity of his gaze. The mis-matched buttons on his coat, the cold that burns at his nose and cheeks until they’re pink. 

He’d been outside for a while.

Searching for you - leaving hat and gloves behind. 

“Where were you last night?” You ask - and he watches you like you’re about to bolt. Palms facing you where they hang at his sides, finger stretching out and then curling.

Reaching up now, to scrub through his hair in frustration - loosening dark, peppered-gray curls. 

“I was there.” Joel admits, and there’s the acid ache of jealousy welling up in your chest. Picturing him with her instead of with you - like in your wishes, your dreams.

“But-” His hands raise, when he sees your expression, “But I just stopped by. I was on patrol with Tommy, you can ask him.”

You want to believe him. But you know you’re both thinking the same thing - thoughts flickering back to William’s suggestion. 

“Or, you can ask Maria. You know she won’t cover for me.” He adds - and that softens you, just a little.

“Why did you trade?”

The moment hangs, where you’re left staring at each other. Your heart gallops in your chest, as he fights an internal battle - before his eyes slide across your cheek, over your shoulder. 

But then there’s the smallest, rueful smile. His dark eyes flipping up to yours.

“Didn’t think it’d be like this.” Joel sighs, moving closer - to the bottom step. Enough to where you could reach out and touch him. Enough to where you see the weariness etched in his face, from where he stayed up all morning to keep watch over you.

“Got some roses for you. They’re at the house.” The words come slowly, “Was gonna give ‘em to you tonight. Wanted to do this right.”

Wanted to do this right.

The words echo in your mind. Pieces of a puzzle starting to fit into place, but you still feel like you’re behind - forever out of step and catching up. 

“That’s why I was out last night. Esther is… rekindling things with her husband.” He manages, “Traded his shift last night for ‘em so they could be together. Went back to pick ‘em up this morning.”

“Roses.” You echo, “Why?”

“Why?” Joel frowns, as hands brace on his hips. Looking flustered, looking like he wishes you could just understand.

And suddenly, you do.

Your own words come slowly now, “For me? For Valentine’s Day?”

Relief crosses his features, those dark eyes going soft.

“Yeah, darlin’.” He smiles, “For you.”

Emotions swirl and surge through you. Relief yes, but also something stronger, something that flutters behind your ribs and threatens to burst free. 

“I didn’t-” You begin, and then stop. A tightness in your throat, as you gaze at him, “I was so worried that you heard what he said, that it was real-”

“I heard.” A dark look crossed Joel’s features, a grit of his jaw, “Heard what you said too. Made me hope, ‘til he opened his mouth again.”

He’s on the top step now, no more than a few feet away. Irritation prickling at him from the memory of you in that tower, tucked away with someone who wasn’t him.

Until his hand is scratching at the scruff of his beard, his look changing.

“But if I misread this-” Joel starts - almost hesitant, if a man like Joel could be.

It makes you want to laugh, after everything. Because you get it, now.

Just how foolish you both had been.

“You didn’t.” You’re quick to cut him off, “You... you heard right.”

There ain’t anybody else…. but you.

It’s always been him.

He kisses you under the eaves of your little porch. 

Stepping into you as your head tilts up - cold fingers tracing your chin, cupping your jaw just as his lips skim against yours.

The lightest brush, as something electric sparks - radiating from that point of contact, skittering down your spine. A soft moan that slips from your throat, before he’s pressing closer - before your hands are slipping, gripping onto his shoulders beneath the thick canvas of his coat.

Everything fades - growing hazy. He’s all you can feel, as your eyes close. Something finally clicking into place, as your lips part for the brush of his tongue. Another moan as he licks into your mouth - stumbling footsteps in both of your haste. 

Until your back is bumping against wood, and his arm is wrapping around you. Surrounding you, leaving you breathless as the frame of the door digs into your hip.

Finally sated, in your need for him. 

And yet more hungry, than you’ve ever been.

The grip of your fingers loosen, as you reach for the door knob. Fumbling for a second before it’s loosening, and you’re stepping back - bringing him with you, your other hand still fisted in the fabric of his coat. 

He groans into your mouth, a hand wrapping around your waist so you don’t stumble, as he follows you inside.

Then there’s low husk of his voice, the barest curve of a smile, “What about your dance, sweetheart?”

Teasing, in the way he spins you around. In the way you’re caged in against the door again, tucked away safely from the other side.

No prying eyes except for his. 

Your answer close to a whine, with the way his fingers find the zipper on your coat, drawing it down.

“I think…” You manage, distracted by the press of his lips against your neck. In the fingers that dip beneath your layers, seeking bare skin.

“I think we can be a little late.”

happy valentine’s day, friends! 💌💕 and especially to elaine - these were such fun prompts! you are the sweetest and I hope you have such a good day!

#I tried to incorporate something from each of your prompts! 💖 #SpaceSistersSecretValentine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine

[ghouljams]

Courting (Letters from Lt. Riley)

tags: regency au, Ghost x f!reader/OC, courting, letters, Ghost flirting and also being so weird with it, courting gifts

summary: You told Ghost he could write you. He does.

The maids drop off the letter while you're in the study. The wax seal on the front is unbroken, which you find strange. Aren't parents normally supposed inspect courting letters? You suppose you should be thankful your mother isn't a noble by birth, she doesn't have the same care for propriety you know others do. She's always maintained that love is for the people involved and no one else. Though, love is a far stretch for your feelings as far as you're concerned.

Ghost seems to go out of his way to aggravate and annoy you. You will say... you've never enjoyed conversations quite so much as you enjoy them with him, and you've never had a man entertain your debating so well, and you suppose his eyes are rather warm and honeyed enough to catch attention. You like that you can see the curve of his lips under his mask when he smiles, and that the lines beside his eyes crease when he looks at you. And you like his hands, you suppose, if you had to pick something.

You break the seal of the letter and unfold the thick paper. There's a thin sheet of silver paper covering the actual writing and you scoff at the precaution. Surely the man isn't saying anything so scandalous as to need more protection from prying eyes. Still, you're careful removing the tissue-y layer.

Your breath catches in your throat, fingers hovering to trace carefully over the lines of charcoal covering the page. It dirties your glove and you're quick to avoid touching the paper directly, lest you sully the careful work of portraiture. It's you, your profile staring determined off into the distance, a slight frown on your lovingly shaped lips and a gentle crease to your brow. You wonder what your charcoal double must be thinking to have such an expression. You recognize the necklace he's haphazardly rendered, a gift from your mother you wore at the first party of the season.

How long has he been thinking of you?

There's tight cursive at the bottom of the page, "I have nothing to say, except that you're the most beautiful creature I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. -Lt. Riley"

Your heart flutters so hard, batters so aggressively against your rib cage, that you don't even notice the heat in your cheeks. You call rush to find pen and paper to write back.

-

You're having breakfast with your parents when the maid brings you a letter. You recognize the red wax seal immediately and slide your fingers under the paper's fold to break it quickly. The crack of wax fills the silent room, and you look up from your work to see your parents watching you. You father rests his chin on his laced fingers, and your mother quietly sips her tea. The letter is carefully placed to the side and your mother smiles, setting down her cup to draw one of your father's hands into her own grip.

"Don't let us keep you," You father rumbles, you can't tell if he's upset or pleased. His voice carefully neutral.

"It can wait until after breakfast," You tell him peaceably, picking up your fork again.

"Give it a read now dear, you'll upset your stomach rushing through meals." Your mother, ever the doctor, encourages. You tamp down your smile and unfold the letter, your fingers feeling for another sheet of silver paper. You're almost disappointed not to find one. You suppose you can't expect a gift of that quality every time. Once again the actual letter is short and neatly penned,

"Arguing with me won't make me march down there princess. Not that the idea hasn't crossed my mind, but I'd be gone as soon as I saw you, lost as soon as you opened your mouth. You make me lose all rational thought, and yet you consume my every waking moment. There is no distance I could travel that I would not still be haunted by the memory of you. If I'd never been assigned to your escort I would have been a saner man, miserable for never having known you. Argue with that.

Did you miss every one of your penmanship lessons?

Lt. Riley"

You smile to yourself, your thumb rubbing against the paper. He's pressed little flowers into the folds, their colors bleeding into the page and their petals falling into your lap. You pluck them carefully from your skirt, dutifully avoiding thoughts of your suitor, and place them back in the folds of Ghost's letter. You'll have to write him later, you know he's egging you on, but really he should know better than to criticize a lady's calligraphy.

You look up from your work and meet your parent's stares. Your mother's thumb rubs against the back of your father's hand, you've always hoped for a match like theirs.

"Something nice?" Your mother asks, and you smile at her.

"Never," You tell her, "Lieutenant Riley is as rude in his letters as he was as an escort."

Your father hums, but you think you see the edge of a smile under his beard.

-

There's very little awkwardness in the letters between you and Ghost. He writes better than he speaks, but the bluntness is still there, the charm that made you first agree to this courtship. He makes your stomach clench, makes your heart flutter. He's rude and argumentative, and you find yourself hoping for every letter he sends you.

He's sweet.

He's terrible.

You hide his letters under your pillows, the ones that talk about kissing you, "Everywhere but your mouth," he writes, "so that I can still hear you." You sit on the chaise and chew your thumb reading the letters that promise you devotion, "you'd never worry where I was, I never wish to stray from your side." You hear your friends discussing suitor gifts, the scandalous things that pass through their aunt's inspection first, that their fathers shake their head at.

You think of the modesty panel laced into your stays, the carefully inked words along the edge of the gift, "if my lips were here they'd never leave."

You pluck Ghost's letter from the tray before your maid can even offer it. Your fingers quick to break the wax seal before you even find a place to sit. He never writes as much as you do, but he's purposeful with his words in a way that makes your heart sing.

"If it's the Scot I think it is your friend is fine. We can discuss when I pick you up this afternoon. Wear walking shoes. Love, Lt. Riley"

You snort, quite a way with words your lover. You nearly trip on your way up the stairs staring at his signature. "Love" be still your heart.

#x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x oc #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #oc: goose #regency au #return of ghost being an artist which is my personal favorite thing

[haetrack]

tread lightly | lhc

lee haechan x f!reader

wc: 17.6k

warnings: smut (MDNI!), established relationship, sexting, jealously, slight miscommunication, mark is an instigator, quite a few text messages, masturbation, kink discussion, mommy kink, nipple play, handjob, edging, overstimulation, barely there choking, unprotected sex, cockwarming, light exhibitionism, epilogue (kinda), dom!reader, sub!haechan

a/n: this fic has been a long time coming so i’m very excited that it’s out! i would like to thank @ncteez for letting me write a fic based on this post of hers! i hope everyone enjoys reading and let me know if you liked it!

It’s midnight and moonlight seeps through the curtain covered window, covering both you and Haechan. You're laying across his bare chest, your finger mindlessly drawing small patterns on it. You both feel sticky, breaths still heavy, yet no one bothers to get up. You peer up to look at Haechan through your eyelashes and see his eyes closed, with cheeks that are slightly flushed. Although you don’t want to break the peaceful silence of the night, you speak up with, “You take such good care of me.”

His eyes open, which then turn and peer down at you with a shy smile. He lets out a small laugh and wraps his arms around you, successfully entrapping you in a bear hug. You let out a small, “it’s still too hot!” which he ignores, and plants kisses along wherever he can reach. “You know I’m always going to be here to take care of you, baby,” he continues with a smirk, “you took care of me so good tonight, I could only return the favor.”

You playfully push him away from you and lay on your respectful side of the bed, while he sits up and stares down at you. His eyes only show love towards you, something that comes with two years of dating. You reach up and caress his cheek, which he takes as a sign to reach down to give you a kiss. “I hope you do know how much I love you, more than anything ever,” he says a little more seriously.

“Even more than your computer?” you tease.

“Hey! I’m being so serious right now!” he grins, letting you know he’s not genuinely mad.

“I’m kidding,” you say with a laugh, “and I hope you know that there’s nothing and no one else I could love more than you.” You sit up along with him and place a kiss to the tip of his nose. He nuzzles his face along your neck and presses kisses along the soft skin of your shoulder. A few moments pass of you two enjoying each other's presence, you gently ask, “Do you think you’re ready to clean up?” He lifts his face from your neck and nods, “I’ll go get a cloth for us.”

After some rummaging in the restroom, he returns with shorts on and a wet cloth for you. He looks at you, asking for approval to clean you up, and you nod, thanking him quietly. Once he finishes, he tells you to go use the restroom already. You groan out, “I don’t want to, I'm already too comfortable here.”

“I know that you love me so much,” you glare at him, “but I will drag you to that restroom if I need to.” With one last groan, you get up and slowly (and painfully) walk to the restroom. Once you finished what needed to be done, you see him scrolling on his phone, waiting for you. He looked up once he realized you were there, and laughed when he saw you limping.

“Don’t be mean! You did this to me!” You say while poking your finger in his chest. He laughs out loud and brings you down to snuggle against him.

“Don’t care how many times I’ve said this already, but I love you.” He was spooning you, and you felt his words travel past your ear. You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smiling at the thought of the two of you. You whisper out into the dark night, “I love you too. Goodnight, Haechan.” With the two of you cuddled up next to each other, you fall asleep, waiting for what the next day brings.

Instead of awakening to the familiar light of the moon, the harsh sun forces its way in, even through the curtains. You check your phone for the time, and despite the fact that you slept late, you’re awake at eight in the morning. This isn’t the worst thing ever, considering the fact you have class a little after twelve, but you decide to lay in bed for a bit longer.

You turn over to see your boyfriend sprawled across your bed, his pillow somehow on the floor. You have always made fun of him and his sleeping habits, and he in turn mocks you for thinking how cute he is in any situation. You turn your attention to him, and once again draw patterns on his chest. For a while, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone while running your fingers along his abdomen, waiting for him to wake up. 

Even though you’re a patient person, you do have things to do today and classes to attend. You have to wake Haechan up. Your gaze falls back to the hand on his chest, and you smirk to yourself. Your finger circles around his nipple and you lightly pinch it. His body suddenly shivers and goosebumps grow on his skin. His body shifts to grab your hand and just to make a point, you pinch his nipple one last time.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth before he turns towards you. He nuzzles his face in your chest and clings onto your t-shirt. He groggily starts with, “Baby… what d’you think you’re doin’…”

You can barely make out what he said, but you still reply with a giggle. You run your hands along his naked back and he just pushes his face closer to your chest. “Wake up, you big baby. The both of us have class soon.”

Haechan mumbles something incoherent into your shirt and you laugh, pulling him away from you. “Tell me what you have going on today,” you ask, hoping this will get him to wake up. 

After a few moments of silence from him, he responds, albeit with his sleepy voice. “I have class later…” a pause, “then Mark wants to hang out tonight with everyone else there, too…” 

“Are you going to go straight to his place after class?”

“...I dunno yet. But I’ll let you know what happens…” he mumbles. He’s clearly trying to wake himself up to talk to you, so you continue.

“After my classes, I think— no, I have to head to the library to work on that lab report I was telling you about,” you sigh.

“The one for Chemistry?”

“Yeah… I think I cried like five times thinking about it,” you laugh, worried for the upcoming deadline. “If you don’t end up heading straight to Mark’s after your classes, you can come with me and study.” You smile, knowing that when he’s with you you both get no work done.

He nods, and you pat his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get ready.”

He groans loudly and he grabs your arm to try and pull you down next to him. As much as your body aches to be back in bed with him, you abstain and grab his hand instead. He curls his fingers into yours and brings your hand to his lips to give you a soft kiss there. You return the favor and press a kiss onto his hand. 

“Will it make you feel better if we shower together?”

He shoots straight out of bed.

After a shower (that may or may not have included some heavy touching) and a breakfast made by his wonderful girlfriend, he begins to make his way out of her apartment. He helps with the dishes by drying and putting them away, all while maintaining conversation with you. You talk about little things, how his professor might be his downfall, and how you might’ve finally found a main in Smash Bros. 

Once you both finish getting ready, you take a quick picture of the both of you to upload on your Instagram story. “Are you trying to show everyone how lucky you are to have the best boyfriend ever in the world?” You scowl at him, and he makes a bunch of weird, high pitched noises and gets close to pinching your cheeks. You laugh and push him away.

“No, but seriously, I have to go now. I’ll see you later?” he asks.

“Yes, please be careful. Also text me your plans after class just so I know whether to wait on you?” 

“Of course, Mom.”

“Hey!”

Haechan makes it to his only class for the day. He’s a bit early, so he finds a place to sit before his class starts. He scrolls aimlessly through his Instagram, which reminds him to look at the story you posted of the two of you. He finds it and stares lovingly at it. You look very cute, and he has to remind himself on how to repost another person's story onto his. He captions it with a “me and the gf 🫡” before posting it. 

He notices his classmates slowly make their ways into class and decides to get up himself. Haechan takes his favorite spot in the auditorium, the middle back rows towards the edge of the aisle. Once he’s settled in, his infamous professor walks in with a smile on his face.

Fuck. Coding.

After an hour of hearing a new coding technique being taught badly, Haechan’s mind starts to wander. What else to think about other than his wonderful girlfriend who takes up all his thoughts. He could never get mad at you, though. Ever since meeting you, he thinks his life couldn’t get any better.

He remembers the day you met those three years ago. You were both freshmen in college, and you both had a mutual friend, Mark. You had apparently made friends with Mark through a shared Rhetoric class while Haechan has known Mark for most of his life. Apparently, Mark had taken you out to lunch after said shared class and Haechan was in the dining hall at the same time. He saw the top of Mark’s big head and made his way over.

What he didn’t seem to notice was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, sitting right across from Mark, munching on her food. The stupid shit he was about to say to Mark was cut off by the sight of the girl, at the sight of you, and he stupidly stood there. Mark catches onto this and invites Haechan to sit next to him, which he robotically takes the offer. 

You introduce yourself to him and offer a handshake. Haechan leaves you hanging for a bit, suddenly all too aware he’s leaving you hanging but his hands are just too sweaty. He quickly wipes them on his jeans and shakes your hand, introducing himself successfully. He’s aware that he’s not the best at meeting new people, but he hopes he can push that aside in order to talk to you.

It works. He feels his shy demeanor melt away, becoming more at ease when he talks to you. Eventually, you both start hanging out without Mark, days spent together learning about one another. He thinks he might literally be in love. What would happen if he confessed? Would you say yes? Would you push him away? He thinks he wouldn’t be able to live without you by his side.

Spoiler alert. He does confess and you said yes. As if you would say anything else. 

Interrupting his thoughts, he feels a buzz come from his phone. It’s Mark.

[markly] 12:20, im gonna head over to campus in a bit and get food

[markly] 12:20, after, im gonna be outside ur class waiting for u

[hae] 12:21, k 👍

Not exactly the person he wanted to hear from, but that will do. He remembers to text you the new plan so you can adjust accordingly.

[hae] 12:21, hey baby im going to marks right after class

[hae] 12:21, wish we couldve studied together 

[my beloved 🫂] 12:22, aww dont worry abt it 

[my beloved 🫂] 12:22, we both know that we wouldve gotten nothing done

[hae] 12:22, laughed at a message

[hae] 12:23, are you still in class baby?

[my beloved 🫂] 12:23, my prof cancelled class last min i was kinda pissed

[my beloved 🫂] 12:23, feeling a lot better now that my bf texted me

[my beloved 🫂] 12:24, more time to think abt u hehe

Haechan smiles at his phone and sends a quick love you before turning his phone off. He tries to pay attention, he really does, but his professor might be quite literally secretly planning on failing him. To save him from his dread, one more buzz from his phone. It’s you again.

[my beloved 🫂] 12:31, sorry for bothering u haechan

[my beloved 🫂] 12:31, cant stop thinking of u

Before Haechan can respond, one picture is sent. You are laying stomach down on your bed, but one thing sets him off. Your tits are almost on full display for him. Covered by a lacy bra that barely helps, he can’t help but feel himself twitch in his pants. Remembering that he is still in this Hell-like class, he quickly shuts off his phone and almost slams it against the table.

He doesn’t pick his phone back up for a good five minutes. He can feel the back of his neck get hot, his cheeks beginning to flush. He’s not sure what to do, so all he can respond to your picture is with a:

[hae] 12:36, fuck

[hae] 12:36, does my baby need me that badly?

He shoves his face in his hands and internally groans to himself. First of all, he’s still in class. Secondly, he can’t even go back and help you because Mark’s going to be waiting on him. Thirdly, he’s trying to will away his boner before he sees Mark to avoid any teasing. One more text is sent by you, something along the lines of i need u, and all he can do right now is ask you not to touch yourself without him there.

He uses that not only as a way to placate you, but himself as well. The only thing in his mind now is how soft and full your chest looked. How much he wants to grope and pull at your boobs. He can feel himself straining against his pants, begging to be touched, begging for you. He tries to focus on the monotonous voice of his professor droning on about how making one mistake can ruin a whole code. While the thoughts of you plague his mind, his professor seems to ruin every good fantasy he’s thought of.

To make matters worse, his professor keeps his students over class time, explaining that the homework must be done right away and be done perfectly. No exceptions. Once he’s dismissed, Haechan tries to see if he can find the nearest bathroom before Mark arrives. Unfortunately, Mark is sitting on one of the chairs outside the entrance, and spots Haechan easily.

“Why does it look like you died then came back to life?” Mark laughs in his face.

“Don’t ask me stupid shit,” Haechan grumbles.

After getting laughed at by Mark (which effectively ruins his mood), they make their way to his apartment. No one really makes a plan of when to hang out, so Mark just tells their friends if they could show up last minute. Everyone always does, because what else would college students rather do than on a Thursday night. Of course, Haechan would rather spend time with you, but he was coerced into hanging out (he’s lying, but it’s always going to be you over them). 

After Mark sends a text to the groupchat saying that him and Haechan are already at the apartment, everyone makes their way on their own time. Renjun makes it exactly when he said he would make it, in about twenty minutes. Jeno and Jaemin make their way in a whopping thirty seven minutes with lazy smiles and snacks in their hands. There’s nothing like an unplanned hang out with your friends to talk about random shit.

“There’s a party tomorrow at one of the frats,” Jaemin slowly starts, eyebrows raising up and down.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna try to drag us to a party that you want to go to,” Renjun groans.

“This should be good news for you, I don’t see any bitches on your radar,” Jeno says, with Renjun immediately motioning to hit him.

Everyone laughs at them, and Haechan points and claps at how red Renjun has gotten. Renjun sends glares towards everyone and splutters to come up with an argument for his own sake. “That isn’t even fair! Why am I the only one getting laughed at when Mark and Haechan are sitting right there!”

“I get bitches, I just keep it to myself,” Mark chimes.

“And I have a girlfriend,” Haechan proudly states.

Jaemin takes a jab at Haechan, “No offense to you, dude, but it still looks like you get no bitches.”

“Okay, first of all,” Haechan yells, and everyone groans before he starts again, “you are all jealous of me and the beautiful relationship I have with my beautiful girlfriend.”

Murmurs of sure and I guess fill the room and Haechan feels the need to defend you. He can’t let his friends tell him otherwise, not when you literally made him hard in class just a few hours ago.

“We fuck and love each other at the same time, so that means the both of us are better than all of you.” 

They all stare at him in silence for what feels like forever. Haechan can only stand there and awkwardly stare back. It’s not that he feels awkward, but why are they making it awkward for him? It’s silent until one voice speaks up. Mark Lee.

“The only thing I can agree on from that whole thing is the fact that your girlfriend is hot. She has a nice pair of tits.” Before Haechan can process what was just said, Mark adds, “I would genuinely call her mommy.”

Instead of staring awkwardly, Haechan is now pointedly staring at Mark in shock and… anger? Firstly, Haechan didn’t even say you were hot in his mini speech but said beautiful instead. Secondly, why is he even staring at your tits? Those aren’t his to stare at? How long has he been thinking that? Lastly, who the hell gets a mommy kink from staring at a pair of tits?

In Haechan’s daze, everyone is either outwardly or inwardly agreeing with Mark. In Haechan’s peripheral, he sees Jeno shake Mark’s hand. Even Renjun is silently nodding along to Mark’s words. Jaemin stares at Haechan, which then turns into pointing and laughing at him.

“Guys. You… What the fuck is wrong with all of you? You all are horrible people, please tell me you’re joking.” Haechan feels quite literally batshit insane at how all his friends just agreed with one another that you’re hot as fuck. What the fuck. Are they all just staring at your tits without him knowing? Do you know? Do they all want to call you mommy?

Mark starts with a smile on his face, “I am so serious,” he stares up at Haechan with a look that feels like it’s challenging him, “I would call her mommy and let her do whatever she wants with me.”

At his words, Haechan feels something… different… settle at the bottom of his stomach. The thought of you doing whatever you wanted, pushing him to his limits, all while calling you mommy. He feels a weight on his chest and he slightly shivers at the thought. God, he thinks to himself, what would you even do to him? 

Jeno laughs at Mark saying, “I didn’t take you to be so submissive.” Mark laughs along with him, “I’m not, but with someone as mommy as her, I would immediately be on my knees if she asked me to.” 

Before Mark can say anything else regarding his girlfriend, Haechan cuts them all off with a That’s enough of talking about my girlfriend's tits for the night. He still has that heavy feeling looming inside of him, thoughts running rampant through his mind.

He couldn’t wait to be back at his apartment.

After toughing it out at the library, the Chemistry report was finished. It might not be your best work, but it’s better than nothing at all. Making your way to your apartment, you reminisce on the day you had. Your class was canceled, you had lunch, another boring class, then the library. You focus on the canceled class, which led you to a wonderful chat with your boyfriend.

No matter how long it’s been in your relationship, Haechan always reacts to a nude so nicely, so desperate. It spurs you on at how much he loves your body, how much he loves you, to the point where he gets so worked up that he needs you right there. Even though he couldn’t act on that today, seeing how reacted on text satisfied that need for you. 

It surprises you how much he’s opened up to you over the course of time. When you had first seen him on that day you had lunch with Mark, he seemed shy. Mark had briefly talked about him before, how he was always screaming in his ear, so seeing him like that confused you. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and when you shook hands, they were clammy.

You knew from that point on you had to have him for yourself. You wanted to see his shy demeanor melt away while he talked to you. Over time, he showed how comfortable he was with you by clinging on to your side, taking you out to lunch, and making a playlist of songs that reminded him of you. This only solidified how badly you needed him.

And you got him. Through a rushed confession, he explained how he didn’t want to ruin what you both had but he had to tell you how he felt. You immediately told him you felt the same way, and the rest was history. You know him like the back of your hand, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

He treats you well, like a friend, but with love that never seems to leave. You gave him all that you had, all your love, your body, your mind. He gives you back everything tenfold, and he tells you there could never be a time where he doesn’t love you. Those words show in everything he does with you.

Especially the nights with hushed whispers for only you to hear. Where he takes his time with you, taking off your clothes in a pace that makes sense to him. He kisses you softly, his body on top of yours. I love you, he says. You moan out as he drags his kisses down to your jawline, sucking onto a sensitive spot. He continues to trail down your body with his lips, all while hearing you whine out for him.

“Haechan-” your whimper cuts you off, “please don’t tease me.” 

He’s down by your navel when he chuckles at you. “I wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” He nuzzles his nose to the seat of your panties, your smell taking the last of his self control. “My pretty baby will let me eat her out, won’t she?” 

Who are you to deny him when he asks so nicely?

Your phone dings once you make it home. A text from Haechan. 

[hae] 11:08, i’m making it back to my place soon

[my beloved 🫂] 11:08, i just got back to mine too

[my beloved 🫂] 11:09, hopefully i can see u tomorrow

[my beloved 🫂] 11:09, rest up

[my beloved 🫂] 11:09, i have all day tomorrow to spend w you

[hae] 11:09, yes ma’am 🫡 

[hae] 11:10, love you baby

You send a quick voice message saying Love you too, and please go to sleep early. 

[hae] 11:11, hae loved a message. 

So he didn’t go to sleep like you had asked him to. On the car ride back that Jeno had offered him, he couldn’t stop thinking about one thing. You. Specifically, you on top of him, all while he would be reaching out to you, begging for you.

He’s not even quite sure what a mommy kink entails. It’s not that he’s never heard of it- being chronically online almost forces him to hear that word- he’s just not sure what else you do with a mommy kink. He knows he would be submissive and that he would call you mommy, but what else is there to it?

That’s why once he says goodnight to Jeno after dropping him off at his apartment complex, he doesn’t feel guilty for being curious over such a thing. He doesn’t feel guilty when he rushes to his bedroom, grabbing his laptop and ripping off his shirt. He doesn’t feel guilty in finding a pornsite, typing in mommy in the search bar. He doesn’t feel guilty scrolling through all the videos, feeling himself get hard. 

He settles for a video titled, Mommy Uses Her Sweet Boy Until He Cries. He watches the video, a man with his arms tied to the bed. He begins grinding his hand against the front of his sweats, a woman walks in and starts giving the man a handjob. He pushes his sweats down hastily, whines and whimpers fill the room, his mommy taking what’s hers. Haechan releases himself from the confines of boxers, his neediness beginning to hurt him.

After a while, the video plays forgotten in the background. Haechan is lost in his own thoughts. He wants you to treat him how he usually treats you. Thoughts of you here, in between his thighs, touching him in a way he can’t imagine. As much as he wishes that was real, it wasn't. He’s stuck in his room, pathetically getting himself off to a kink that was just introduced to him. 

He can feel his thoughts melt away, entering a headspace he has never dealt with before. He’s never felt this sensitive while getting himself off. His fist tightens around his tip, which causes him to whimper out. He knew he was more vocal than other people in bed, but he realizes tonight takes the cake. He’s leaking precum, his cock begging to be touched once more.

He manages to open his eyes and refocus on the video. The man in question is currently being edged before the woman brings her hand up to his nipple to toy with him, to which Haechan outwardly moans at the sight. Haechan’s own hand reaches up to his chest and hesitantly pulls at his own nipple. Not realizing how sensitive he could be, Haechan cums on the spot. 

Haechan feels as though he can see himself from the outside of his body in a third person view. The image of him, with spurts of his cum across his stomach, one hand tweaking his nipple and the other going to covering his mouth is engrained at the back of his head. If he thinks hard enough, he can feel you sitting atop his thighs doing all this for him, whispering how good he’s been into his ear, how he must’ve been so eager and desperate in order to cum that fast.

After a few minutes of laying in that spot, ears ringing, harsh breaths evening out, he opens his eyes and thinks. Is he… supposed to tell you what he just did? You both never really talked about stuff like this before, but he can’t imagine just springing this on to you. He cringes at the thought, and hesitantly pulls out his phone. He opens up your messages, and he twiddles his thumbs at the side of his phone.

He looks over to his laptop, the video he had been playing had now ended, the video replaying in his head. He bites the inside of his cheek as he types out to you, deleting the message before retyping it again.

[hae] 12:48, can i ask you something?

The next morning, Haechan wakes up hot and sweaty. He’s not quite sure why, not until he can feel himself throbbing in his boxers. With that in mind, he remembers the dream he had containing the both of you. He can’t remember all the details, something along the lines of you on top of him, taking everything you needed from him. Whatever it was, Haechan feels the need to get off again to the thought of you. 

He does. The thought of your tits in his face all while getting a handjob was enough to quickly get him off. After washing up, he can feel his face getting hot. He hasn’t been this shy at the thought of you since you both first met. Before he can get too into his thoughts, he remembers that he texted you last night. He may have subtly (read: not at all subtle) asked what you thought of a mommy kink. He doesn’t want to read back the texts, knowing that his messages were all jumbled, adrenaline and giddiness written all over them.

He tries not to get too excited at the thought of it. He scrolls through Instagram to distract himself, but one of your friends just posted a picture of the both of you, your pretty face and tits right there for him to look at. He bites his lips, nasty thoughts of you filling his head. He goes to start up one of his games, but ends up staring at the starting screen. All of his thoughts lead back to you. He realizes he's at his breaking point when he's literally waiting for a message from you.

After laying in bed for an hour straight, you finally decide to get up. Fridays are the days you get to relax, meet up with your boyfriend, and do whatever you both want without worrying about classes. You had mutually agreed at the start of the semester to spend Fridays together because both of your schedules allowed for it. There was never a day you weren’t excited for Fridays to come, always happy to see your boyfriend. 

Before you actually get up, you do a quick scan of all your apps. On Instagram, you see that your friend has posted a picture of the two of you, the one that you happened to look super good in. You see that Haechan has already liked the picture, even before you had seen it. You like the post and turn your phone off in order to go and get ready for the day.

You’re not quite sure what it is today, but you feel good. You feel like you could conquer the world with how you look and feel. Maybe it was because of the finished lab report, or maybe just the fact that you’ll be seeing your boyfriend today. If he doesn’t immediately fall to his knees and tell you that you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen, then there has to be something wrong.

Speaking of Haechan, you remember waking up to one of his texts last night. He had randomly asked about a kink, a very specific one at that. A mommy kink. When you got his first text, you were scared, heart pounding in your chest from such an ominous message so late into the night.

[my beloved 🫂] 01:02, what happened? i was asleep im so sorry

[hae] 01:02, nothing bad dont worry baby

[hae] 01:03, i was just thinking

There was a long pause between his texts. Even if he said that there was nothing to worry about, you can’t help but wonder what he could possibly be thinking.

[my beloved 🫂] 01:14, baby youre scaring me please just tell me what you wanted to ask

[hae] 01:16, i got home and i couldnt stop thinking about you

[hae] 01:16, i wanted to ask about something i might be interested in

[hae] 01:16, would you be interested in dominating me?

[hae] 01:16, and me calling you mommy?

You stare at your screen, letting out the breath that you were holding in. On one hand, your boyfriend did not want to break up with you, which came from quickly assuming the worst. But on the other hand… what? 

You weren’t unfamiliar with how submissive men work. Before you met Haechan, you watched your fair share of porn. While most of the contents included what would be considered “vanilla” sex, there were some femdom videos that you watched. You always wondered how it would feel to have someone crying under you, the image of Haechan popping up in your head when you did. 

He must have assumed that the pause in your texting was a bad sign, quickly backtracking and apologizing. It was cute, how embarrassed he got as he tried to change the subject. You can imagine him squirming around in bed, trying to push back his fantasies of you while texting. You interrupt him. 

[my beloved 🫂] 01:24, i wouldnt mind.

Rereading your texts, you realize how badly you need to see him again.

You text him asking if you should both meet up. You both agree on meeting up in the evening in order to get take-out together, spending the rest of the night in each other's presence. There’s nothing more than you could ask for besides being there besides him, the comfort of his presence bringing you more peace than anything else could. 

Even though you were ready for a nice night with him, you prepared yourself. The image of your boyfriend thinking of you, being so interested in being submissive, makes your heart beat a little faster. You bite your lip, wanting to see your boyfriend fall apart under you, wanting to hear his cries. Maybe Haechan has finally rubbed off on you, and you smile at the thought of it.

You spend the rest of the day cleaning up around your apartment, waiting for your boyfriend’s arrival.

Before the sun fully sets, Haechan alerts you that he’s outside. You trot to the door with a smile on your face. It feels like forever since you had last seen him (you fully know it’s been less than a day). When you open the door for him, he’s standing there, gawking at you. You see that his cheeks are lightly dusted pink, his mouth trying to form some words.

When you go to hug him, he feels stiff against your own body before deciding to hug you back. Though you knew that he might act a little different, starting from the picture you sent him to the mommy kink confession, but you didn’t think he’d be like this. It’s nice to see him like this again, and as you move to press a kiss to his cheek, he turns redder.

You both settle in and sit next to each other on your couch. He’s properly talking to you now, but you can see how he’s still a little nervous. In a way, it reminds you of how he acted when you both first met. Shy looks and responses, scratching at his neck, and fidgeting with his hands. You go to hold his hand, pressing a kiss to the top of it, causing him to laugh softly.

You’re not sure if bringing up the texts last night would be any good, you think it’d be better for him to bring it up when he’s comfortable. You don’t want to rush him into anything. Even if you can see how he stares at your lips and chest too hard, you don’t want to start anything he isn’t ready for. You both were here for something else, anyways: food.

“Instead of going to a restaurant, do you want to just go to the convenience store down the street? I’m feeling a little lazy.” Haechan coos at you and presses a kiss to your cheek. You both gather your things to make the small trip to and from. You lock your door and turn to look at Haechan as he reachesfor your hand and holds it. You grin at him, pressing yourself into his side as you walk down the slightly lit up street.

The convenience store is a short trip, maybe only a five minute walk from your apartment. You have a small conversation on your way there over how your day was, his hand still intertwined with yours. But with a stroke of luck, you manage to meet you and Haechan’s mutual friend, Mark Lee. You’re pretty sure Haechan notices him first, and he signals to you of his presence by squeezing your hand tighter. 

You look up, and there’s Mark with a smile on his face, waving at the both of you. What you miss though is Haechan’s reaction to him and how Mark looks at you. Before Haechan greets Mark, he lets go of your hand and opts to wrap his arm around your waist. You snuggle into him, and you can hear him call out to his friend.

“Hey guys!” Mark says with a teasing smile on his face, “Feels like forever since I’ve seen you!” and you laugh at him. It’s rare that you see Mark on his own without a friend by his side, specifically, your boyfriend. You and Mark don’t hang out alone as much as you used to, but you still consider him a close friend. After all, he was the one who introduced you to Haechan. 

After a few words are exchanged, there’s a pause in conversation that you can’t quite decipher. You see Haechan and Mark eyeing each other, sending challenging looks to one another. 

“Alright!” you clap, “Me and Haechan have some cheap food to buy and eat, so we’. See you soon, Markie!” You pat Mark’s shoulder as you walk away and Haechan just nods him off. 

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing… but since when did you call him Markie?”

You roll your eyes.

While eating your food, you had asked Haechan if Mark had finally bothered him back. He just laughed and said He has nothing on me! Allegedly, Haechan had beaten Mark too mamy times at Mario Kart to the point where they had a full on argument over how Haechan was somehow cheating. You let out a confused laugh at his words, and Haechan can only say, “The world still hasn’t realized I’m just too good at everything.”

You flick his forehead. 

“So you weren’t being all shy because of the picture I sent yesterday? Or even what you texted me last night…?” you tease, sensing how he’s more comfortable. He covers his face with one hand while slight embarrassment takes over. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, but you can sense a shift in his demeanor as he takes in your words. He nods his head, sliding his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

You finish eating and a movie is put on. The movie is fine, but you’re more focused on Haechan. Though you wanted to take things slow, you can’t help but stare at him. You don’t necessarily do anything new, but you just need him close to you right now.

You tuck yourself to his side, burying your head into his shoulder. Being a seemingly innocent action, he gladly accepts your touch. Minutes pass, and he hasn’t moved to do anything besides moving his arm to hold you by the waist. Your neediness seems to take over, as you move your hand to his upper thigh. You can feel him jump ever so slightly, a feeling of satisfaction coursing through you.

Your thumb rubs the inner part of his thigh, and you feel his fingers twitch at your side. You know he gets riled up with needy touches, you’re just trying to see if he wants to do anything tonight. You place light kisses along his neck, a soft whine escaping your lips, begging him to do something.

Clearly having enough of your antics, he grabs you by the hips and places you on top of his thighs. His face is flushed, his eyes shyly looking up at yours. Despite all the times you’ve both been in this position before, it feels like the first. A shy, yet expectant Haechan under you, waiting for you to make a move.

You move to press kisses along the moles on his cheeks, Haechan’s eyes fluttering shut and the feeling of your soft lips on his skin. His hands grip tightly on your hips, encouraging you to continue. You move to the middle of his collarbones, a wet kiss pressed onto the mole there. You lick a stripe up to the mole on his neck, and he lets out a choked moan.

You sit back up, looking down to see his face. He looks at you with a look you haven’t quite seen before. He looks… desperate. Not that he hasn’t been desperate to fuck you before, but there’s a different meaning behind his eyes and his touch. You’re almost reminded of yourself, how you might look under him, begging him to fuck you already, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything…” you whisper out, scared to break the tension you’ve created. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He shifts under you, and you feel his erection press into your thigh. You giggle at him, and he shuts his eyes, groaning to himself. He finally moves, suddenly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you directly on top of his clothed cock.

“Been needing you all day,” he stifles a moan when he feels you grind yourself onto him, “wanna feel you, wanna show everyone that you’re mine.” You whine out his name and he pulls you into a kiss. It’s messy, tongues sloppily moving against each other. Drool spills past your lips, and Haechan moves to lick it right back up. Your hands move to grip on his shoulders, needing to be grounded.

You need him inside of you already. You’re sure you’ve stained his sweatpants already, feeling yourself dripping with every motion. He seems too focused on what’s happening now though, feeling too sensitive with how much he’s twitching under you. Your hands move up to his hair to get him to get him to refocus, and he lets out a small whimper. You almost miss it.

He looks up at you like you were the one who made that noise. You laugh hard, “So shy,” his hips buck up, “it’s almost like the first time we had sex again.”

You’re sitting on top of him, laughing about how pathetic he looks right now. As much as he wants to laugh it off and move onto the actual fucking, he feels himself become embarrassingly close to cumming. Thoughts of the night before flood into his head, the image of you sweetly whispering in his ear saying how much you want to fuck him is getting to him.

You look almost identical to how you looked in his head last night, and he can feel himself throbbing in his sweats. It all becomes too much too fast, and he quickly apologizes and moves you off of him. You stare incredulously at the sight of him rushing to your bathroom. You hope you didn’t push things too far, letting him be alone before you ask any questions. 

He feels so lightheaded, a heavy weight placed onto his chest. You laughed at him, made him feel so small and pathetic to the point where he could’ve cum in his pants right there. Reminding himself of what he did last night, he didn’t realize that he’d get a humiliation kink from it too. He wishes you could wrap your hand around his cock and laugh about how perverted he is from getting off to something like that. He can only wish.

For now, all he can think about is getting himself off before he can face you again. In all honesty, he was fighting himself from getting hard as soon as he saw you. You looked good today, and all the image of your chest flashed through his mind all day. How much he wanted to just take you into your room, push you onto your bed, and fuck you until you cry for him to stop.

Another part of him wishes for the opposite. He can’t help but think of you being the one making him cry. He wants to be under you, feel how your body rides him until he’s the one begging you to stop. These fantasies don’t help his throbbing cock. Despite you being seated in the other room, he figures the only thing he can do now is get himself off pathetically in your restroom.

He slides down his sweats to his midthigh, too impatient and embarrassed to go any further. The front of his boxers are wet from his dripping tip, he squeezes himself through his boxers, a soft whine trying to escape his lips. Realizing you’re still in the other room, he uses his free hand to cover up his mouth. Deciding he probably shouldn’t tease himself, he pulls down his boxers.

His dick slaps against his abdomen, flushed and dripping at the tip. He wraps a hand around the base and begins moving. He feels too sensitive just from the feeling of you on top of him, dangerously close already. His hips begin to buck against his hand, everything feeling like too much and not enough. If he could, he’d ask you to come in and help him cum. 

The thought of a teasing smile adorning your face makes a strangled moan come out of his mouth, almost too loud. He can hear you get up from your couch, making your way to your room. He continues to fist his cock, drool slipping out of his mouth and smearing messily against his palm. He feels like a pervert right now, fucking his hand in your restroom.

As if he couldn’t be even more embarrassed, he swears that you’ve stopped in front of your restroom door. The sound of whimpers and soft cries worrying you to where you have to check in on him. He wonders if you’ve put your ear to the door, wonders if you can hear the sounds of him fisting his cock. He can’t help but think if you would call him pathetic, tell him how much he should be lucky that you’re willing to fuck him.

A low moan escapes past his lips and he can hear you gasp on the other side. He hears you run to your room, softly closing the door. You were listening. His body feels numb and strained at the same time. Every muscle tensing, his dick twitching in his palm, begging for release. He imagines you in your room, your thighs squeezing together, getting ready to get yourself off to the sound of your boyfriend getting himself off like a loser.

A familiar feeling sets at the bottom of his stomach, mind going blank from his incoming orgasm. Only thoughts of you fill his mind, his pretty girlfriend being so clueless over his desires. He wonders if you would let him call you mommy right now. At the thought, his body becomes undone. Cum spurts from his tip, shooting all over his stomach and chest. His hand continues to move until it feels too much, having to forcibly stop himself.

He takes a few breaths. He feels gross and sweaty, looking down at himself to see the mess he’s made. He grabs some toilet paper and cleans up his cum. He moves to wash his hands, looking at himself in your mirror. He looks fucked out. His face still flushed, eyes looking droopy. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to approach this, not sure if you both should just talk about it.

All he can do now is sigh to himself, ready to face what you might ask him. He needs to decide on whether he should tell you everything he’s done or push it off until later.

Fuck Mark Lee.

You can hear your bathroom door unclick, nervousness suddenly taking over your body. Haechan must be finished with… what he was doing. You’re not really sure how to feel about it. You know what he was probably thinking of, but you’re not sure why he couldn’t just do it with you. You never told him no, but he was forcibly keeping it from you.

You hear him slowly walk to your door, stopping right before the entrance. After a few seconds, he opens it, not meeting your eyes. You quietly call out his name, which he hesitantly looks up at you. He looks a little shocked, a small blush spreading across his face. You pat a spot next to you on your bed, beckoning him over. He follows, placing himself quite awkwardly next to you.

“Are you… okay?” You ask him.

“I’m fine, I just needed a moment to myself.” He's not looking at you, instead putting his attention to the fingers he’s picking at.

You grab his hand, refocusing his attention on you, “I heard you, in the restroom,” his eyes widen a little, “I thought you were hurt, but I don’t think that’s what you were doing.” You trail off, waiting for him to try to piece together your thoughts. When he gives you a confused look, you continue, “If I was pushing you too hard, or- or rushing you into doing something you weren’t ready for, I’m sorry.”

Once Haechan puts together what you’re trying to say, he immediately denies it. “It really isn’t because of you! You haven’t done anything wrong,” he shouts, “it’s just… I…” You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He gives you one last look before he rushes out, “I just didn’t wanna cum too fast in front of you.”

He shuts his eyes in embarrassment, putting his head in his hands in order to shield himself from you. You have to forcefully stop yourself from laughing out loud. You carefully remove his hands from his face, getting him to look at you once more. You cup his face in your hands, your thumb tracing along the moles on his cheek. He nuzzles softly into your touch, you can feel the warmth from his face seep into your hands. 

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed,” you chuckle, “it makes me feel good knowing that you found me that sexy.”

He groans when he removes his face from you, “I almost came in my pants because of you,” he places a soft kiss to your thumb, “you did things to me that you don’t even know.”

“Care to tell me what I did to get you so worked up?” You smile, faking innocence in order to hear what your boyfriend thinks about you.

Haechan is silent for a few moments, clearly trying to bring his thoughts together. You try to figure it out yourself. There was the picture, the texts, your teasing. Maybe it had something to do with that interaction with Mark that you didn’t quite understand. Despite all these ideas you’ve come up with, you’re not ready for what he says to you.

“Liked it when… I liked it when you laughed at me.” He mumbles out.

You try not to gawk at him, but it’s damn near impossible to hear your boyfriend tell you that he liked it when you laughed at him. During sex. You laughed at him over how shy he looked, and he liked it? It’s not a mommy kink, but you can assume that’s where it definetly came from. 

“Can you explain… what you mean a little more?” You ask.

“Do you want the story in full detail or a quick summary?” He laughs dryly, clearly trying to push his embarrassment away.

“Do a quick summary for me and I’ll ask some questions at the end.” You answer, sitting up a little more straight.

He sighs, becoming a bit more serious with the conversation. After a few breaths, how sort of lied earlier, something did happen between him and Mark. Mark said something about you which made Haechan think differently. He reiterates how these were really good thoughts, but he was just pissed because Mark thought it first. “Also why is he thinking about you when you’re my girlfriend. Tell me he wasn’t clearly trying to get with you before I met you.”

You roll your eyes, Haechan deciding to focus on the smaller issue. You do like seeing him jealous though, especially since this was his own best friend. You’ll pocket that for later though, refocusing on the bigger issue.

“What exactly did he say about me that made you come to your big conclusion?”

At your words, Haechan begins to blush again. He really is acting like how he did at the beginning of your relationship, you think. He’s not really looking at you, and you try to reassure him that he doesn’t have to tell you if he’s not comfortable. This clearly has been bothering him all day, and you assume that this has to deal with his confession from earlier. 

“He just… he said that… that he would be submissive if he were with you. He said he’d call you… mommy.” He mumbled the words near the end, but you heard him clearly. 

In a hypothetical world where Mark was dating you, he would let you dominate him. So Haechan, probably pissed that Mark was thinking that, thought of himself in that position, and also liked it? You feel warmth spread through your body, thoughts begin to fill your head.

You release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Haechan takes it as a sign of disgust, immediately backtracking. “I know it seems kinda weird, and I’m not saying that we have to do it now! I just-”

You cut him off, “Why didn’t you tell me how badly you wanted it?” He gapes at you, and you’re honestly quite surprised at your own words. You’re not sure what persona takes over you, but you’re filled with the desire to see this different side to your boyfriend.

Remembering a conversation before you started dating Haechan, before you both even hung out alone together, Mark had told you something about Haechan. At the time, it didn’t seem like it would be too important to your relationship, but now, you might see what Mark meant.

“Did you know that Haechan likes it when girls are mean to him?”

You laugh out at Mark’s words, “Why are you airing out his business to me?”

“It’s not not important! It’s just, like, you need to keep this in mind when you talk to him.”

“What are you saying?” You raise an eyebrow at him, sensing what his words mean in regards to you and Haechan’s relationship.

“Well, you’re the meanest person I know, so that means you and Haechan are meant to be together!”

He’s laughing at you, and you playfully yell at him to stop, shoving him forwards. You feel your face heat up before entering the dining hall, wondering if Haechan told Mark that he likes the way you speak to him. You can feel something stir inside you.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that I didn’t know if you-”

“Are you hard?” You cut him off, laughing at how he cowers in front of you. He tries considerably hard to conceal the small whimper that threatens to fall from his mouth, but it slips out. You hear it and smile sweetly at him, “Do you need help with that?”

He nods vigorously and you go to sit comfortably on his lap. He immediately wraps his arms over the expanse of your back, arms moving wildly in order to touch every part of you. You first place a chaste kiss to his lips, then you begin to slowly kiss him. Although he tries to keep up with the slow pace, you can practically feel how impatient he gets. His tongue traces every corner of your mouth, and you can feel drool slipping down past your lips.

When you have to forcibly pull him away from you, there’s a line of spit connecting your bottom lip to the corner of his mouth. You bring a thumb to his mouth to clean him up, giggling at how he looks at you with a daze in his eyes. While you’ve seen your boyfriend look like this before, it has never been quite like this. You set the pace, you have the control, you’re the more dominant one.

“I can feel how hard you are, just from some kissing…” he moans out at your words and you slowly begin to grind yourself on him. His hands instinctively move to grab your hips in order to set the pace, but you pull his hands off of you. “That’s not how it goes. Not tonight.”

He lets out a shaky breath, affected by both your actions and your words. It was somehow so easy for you to slip into this position, while he was the one struggling to tell you what he wanted. The feeling of you resuming to grind down on his dick causes him to whine out, trying to keep his hands at his sides. It feels so different, so messy, so good.

It’s not like you both haven’t been in this position before, but Haechan can feel that he’s extra sensitive tonight. Despite how he came multiple times last night and once more in the morning, everything always feels better when you’re there to help him. 

He hears you whispering in his ear, licking stripes onto his throat. Your hands at some point made their way under his shirt, now lightly making scratches over his abdomen. With all of this combined, he feels himself coming close to the edge. He tries to lightly call out your name, but only small whimpers come out.

You look up at him, “What is it?” You already know that he’s about to cum, his hips subconsciously bucking up into you. The drag of his cock against your panties sends shivers up his spine. He can feel how wet you are, dripping through your underwear and letting him grind easier into you. You smile at him and reach for his hands, guiding them under your shirt and to your boobs. Finally allowing him to touch, he recreates all the images from his head last night.

As if he were a depraved man, he licks all over your chest, not caring how messy it gets. You moan out to him, and he gives you everything you want. You look down at him, his hair ruffled up and his eyes closed, suckling on your skin. He’s rutting into you helplessly, fully willing to cum just like this.

You have other plans though. So when he calls out your name in a high-pitched whimper, you pull yourself off of him. He immediately groans, hands moving to pull you back on his aching cock, but you push him down onto your bed. He looks so fucked out, and all that he’s gotten was a few touched. You smile at him, moving towards him to slowly pull off his sweatpants.

You’ve left him in his boxers, his cock straining heavily against them. You press a kiss to his clothed tip before moving up his body, right back up to his pretty face. His round eyes look up at yours, pupils blown out with lust. You smile down at him, your hand moving to hold his warm cheek. He nuzzles into it while you sneak your other hand down to lightly touch his cock

He lets out a shaky breath, shoving his head further into the pillows. You softly call him, and he focuses back on you. You move to kiss him slowly, kissing him deeply as your hand palms over his cock. You can feel him twitching in your hold, can feel how he pants against your lips. You press into his tip, feeling the patch of precum that’s formed as you scoff at him. He laughs, but is cut off when you go down to his balls.

His hips fuck up into nothing, chasing any stimulation. He’s moaning into your mouth, becoming needier with your barely there touches. He whines out, “N-need more, need you to touch me more.”

“But I already am? I’m touching you, aren’t I?

He nods quickly, “I know, but I just- I need to feel you…”

“My poor baby,” a quiet whimper follows, “I think you should just take what you get.” Your fingers move to circle tightly around his leaking tip, which he takes as a sign to begin humping against your hand. He’s quick, trying to quickly get off from all your teasing. He’s letting out small moans, embarrassed with how good it feels.

You can feel how close he is, his eyes shut, hand gripped onto your side as he incessantly fucks into your hand. He’s whining your name, begging for more, begging for you. With a smile on your face, you pull your hand away from him, watching in awe at how he cries out while fucking his hips in the air. You laugh out increduously, and Haechan has to forcibly grip himself at his base in order to stop himself from cumming right there.

“Can’t believe I get to see you like this… never thought that you’d be into something this dirty before.”

He cries out, shaking his head, “I’m a good boy, wanna be a good boy for you.”

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to help the ache you feel. You shush him, pressing soft kisses onto his lips as he moves to grind against your thigh. You press up into him and you can feel how hard he grinds into you, savoring the friction. He’s lost in pleasure, and you can tell by how his tongue moves lazily against you, cock searching for any relief.

Your hand slips under his boxers, finally touching him like he wants. He softly thanks you, bucking his hips up against the tight hold you have on him. Your thumb circles his tip, spreading his precum around to help the glide of your hand. He whines out, feeling too sensitive from being edged. “Slow down, Haechan.”

He just nods, not really hearing your words. His hips move in time with your movements. Eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, only thinking about the softness of your hand against him. He needs more, needs to feel all of you on him. He moves to grab your hand, moving it to his chest. He looks at you with hooded eyes, telling you everything you need to know.

You’ve always known how sensitive his chest was, but before you could ever do anything, he’d swat your hands away with a nervous laugh. Now, being here, you circle his nipple, indulging in how he twitches in your hold, body shivering against the feeling. “So sensitive, you’d probably be happy cumming like this, right?”

He nods, subtly asking for more as he arches his chest into you, begging for your touch. You pinch his nipple and roll it around your fingers, Haechan shoving his head into your shoulders to hide the embarrassingly loud whimpers coming out of him. He’s leaking all over your hand, slick sounds coming from where you’re jerking him off. “Are you gonna cum? Gonna make a mess all over my hand?”

He’s far gone, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he helplessly fucks your fist. He’s so desperate, right now, taking so much from you when you’re giving him so little. You realize that this is what he’s been wanting all day, waiting for you to put him in his place. His hips begin to stutter against you, and you know he’s about to cum. In awe, you whisper out to him, “Are you gonna cum for mommy?”

He lets out a loud whimper, not even waiting for you to give him permission to cum.

You feel spurts of his cum all over your hand, how he bucks into your fist to ride out his orgasm. You help him, gliding your hand over his length until he whines out from the overstimulation. You chuckle as you pull your cum-covered hand away. Haechan watches in interest as you bring your hand to your mouth, licking up his cum from your fingers and swallowing. He groans before pulling you into one last kiss, tasting his cum on your tongue.

You both lay in your bed, your hands caressing his back as he lets out soft breaths against you, pressing light kisses to your shoulder. You both lay there, enjoying the warmth that your bodies are emanating. His breaths are getting deeper, slowly getting lulled to sleep by your touches. You press a kiss to the top of his head, “You did so well for me, Haechan.”

You can feel him smile against your skin as he falls asleep.

There’s been tension in the air.

Ever since the other night, you haven’t been able to keep yourself away from Haechan. No one’s bothered to make a move since then, the only thing he’s offered you are heavy stares and subtle kisses. Even though you’re supposed to be the one dominating him, it feels more like you’re waiting on him. You wonder if all he needed was one fix of you catering to his thoughts.

You didn’t want to beg him to let him dominate you, it should be the other way around. You aren’t sure how to approach it, not even sure how Haechan managed to tell you. It’s not embarrassing, but you don’t want to do something he doesn’t want to do anymore. If he really wanted it, he would’ve told you already.

Throughout the week, you try to signal to him that you’re ready, that you’re just waiting on him. You press kisses along his shoulder while he’s gaming, you rub against him while you’re out, you sit on his lap, hoping for something.

You don’t get it, and you’re sure at this point, you never will.

It isn’t until one day you’re getting ready to go out and eat with him, but this time, Mark has somehow made his way into your plans. You’re not upset with it, but Haechan was trying to usher you away from him. He tried saying that Mark was going to take your food while he wasn’t looking, and would try to make you pay for him, but you roll your eyes at him. Haechan is being too dramatic, but you remember the conversation they had the other night.

He’s jealous. You think you might use his jealousy today to benefit the both of you. 

When you eventually meet up with Mark, Haechan has you tightly around his side, puffing out his chest. Mark doesn’t miss the hold he has on you, ignoring it to instead focus on greeting the both of you. 

If Haechan never told you about their conversation, you would’ve missed the energy between the both of them. It’s at this point where you realize that the weird stares they sent each other a few nights ago match the ones they’re doing now. They’re challenging each other, Haechan making sure Mark won’t do anything out of line. Mark eventually breaks eye contact with him, turning to look at you instead.

“Just wanted to get some food with you guys. I haven’t hung out with you in such a long time,” Mark grins.

“If it weren’t for Haechan, I would still be going out to lunch with you,” you tease, trying to get a reaction out of Haechan. It works, hearing him grumble out intelligible words as he tries to get you both moving. You’re sure Mark wouldn’t actually do anything to impose on you and Haechan’s relationship, probably just enjoying getting back at his friend after so many years. 

It doesn’t feel like that to Haechan though. He can feel his blood boiling watching Mark take all your attention away at the diner. Even if you’re seated right there next to Haechan, all your attention is on Mark, sitting right across from you. He doesn’t know what to do, feeling frustrated that your eyes aren’t on him, your hands not touching him, your mouth on his-

Okay. He has to stop his mind from going in too deep too fast. He tries for about a good five seconds before giving up, all the tension from this week suddenly piling up and becoming too much for him. It doesn’t matter if he’s the one pinning you to the bed or the other way around, he just needs you right now. If only Mark wasn’t here, he would’ve dragged you all the way back to your apartment already.

But he can’t, not with Mark practically taking you away from him at this point. All he can do is shove the last of his food in his mouth as he thinks of what to do. He can’t just tell you he’s horny in front of his literal best friend, so the best he can do is place a hand on your thigh. You’re not phased though, conversation still flowing between you and Mark. He takes out his phone, pretending to mindlessly scroll while he rubs his thumb on your inner thigh. 

You don’t seem to mind until his hand trails up higher, your hand suddenly wrapping around his wrist, stopping his trail. You shoot him a quick look, and Haechan sends a smile your way. Your hand moves away while Haechan stares at his still left on your thigh. He gives it a squeeze, feeling how your thigh twitches under his hold. He bites his lips, trying not to get too hasty.

He wants to see how far he can push you until you break, until you pull your attention away from Mark and onto him. He realizes where your line is when he grabs your hand and places it onto his bulge. You push your hand away, swatting at his hands that chase yours. You can see how Mark gives you both a confused look, and all you can do is send him an annoyed smile as you fight with Haechan under the table.

You lean into his ear, whispering, “Do that again and I’ll leave you to cum by yourself tonight.”

Haechan immediately sits up straight.

Mark knows none the wiser of what you just said to Haechan, instead laughing at how he’s shut up so fast. You continue talking with Mark as Haechan sits there quietly, his cock hard and straining against his jeans.

Before Haechan knows it, he’s shoved against your apartment door as you kiss him, hands threaded in his hair as he whines out to you. “Shouldn’t even be doing this to you,” you murmur against his skin, “you were being so bad earlier.”

“I would’ve been nice if it weren’t for Mark taking away all your attention,” he huffs out, already out of breath from your ministrations.

So that’s what this is all about, you think. You pull lightly on his hair as you suckle on the mole of his neck, earning a small whimper. The shy and embarrassed Haechan from before is gone, taken over by a desperate and needy Haechan. His hands find your hips, groping at the flesh as he takes what you give him. “Needed you so bad, you don’t even know.”

“I could tell, you were practically begging me to fuck you in the diner.” He bats his eyes at you, grabbing one of your hands and placing it on his bulge again. You smile sweetly at him, lightly tracing the outline of his cock through his pants. His head slumps on your shoulder, falling apart immediately with the light touches you give him. You tease his clothed tip, his hips rutting into your hand to chase more pleasure. 

You leave your hand for him to hump against, letting himself fall apart over you. You can feel a small patch of precum form on his pants, swirling your thumb around his tip as he moans out to you. He’s getting to the edge too fast, “Need you to- fuck, mommy, need you to-”

You cut him off quickly, “What was that?”

He looks at you with wide eyes, face flushed and panting as he tries to backtrack. His hands slip from your body as he steps back, trying to explain himself as if you both didn’t already talk about it. You grab his hips and push them flush to yours, “What did you call me, baby?”

Haechan whimpers at the petname, his lips messily pressing against yours as he moans into your mouth. He slots a leg in the middle of your thighs, his hard cock pressing into your upper thigh. “Please, mommy, please fuck me already.”

His neediness is getting to you, feeling his cock hump against your thigh. His voice sounds like he’s almost crying, just from light touching and dry humping. You can feel your own body go hot, moving your thigh up to press harder into his cock. He whimpers out a thank you as he presses harder against you, tongue intertwining with yours.

As much as it’s nice to see him fall apart like this, you’d much rather see him like this when he’s actually inside of you. You move to pry him off of you, ignoring his whines in order to pull him into your bedroom. He messily slips his pants off as he moves to the bed, laying back against your pillows as you watch him. You peel off your shirt and bottoms, sitting at the foot of the bed, eyeing your boyfriend. 

You realize how much you like seeing him like this. He looks so soft, so pliant under your control despite how bratty he was being earlier. You can only assume he’s like this because of how much he loves you, your heart pounding in your chest at the realization. You send a small smile his way, hand moving to cradle his face as he nuzzles into your touch. “I can’t believe how you were hiding this from me, didn’t know how much you needed me.”

He hums along to your words, hand grabbing your wrist as he rubs his thumb along your skin. It all feels sweet, if only it weren’t for how his cock is straining against his boxers. You ignore it, moving to place yourself on top of him, one thigh in between his legs as you kiss him softly. At first, he melts in your touch, taking it all in. In about thirty seconds, you can tell how impatient he’s getting.

You can feel him squirm under you, his cock subtly grinding into your thigh. You continue to ignore him, pressing kisses all over the moles on his face. His eyes are shut, heavy breaths fanning across your face as he tries to hold himself together. You wait for him to unravel, wait for him to beg out to you. You want to know that he needs you.

All it takes are a few more kisses and a few more seconds of him humping your thigh before he gives in, “Just- can you… can you please touch me, mommy?”

His eyelashes bat at you, and you flash a sickly sweet smile at him. You slowly move yourself down, pulling up his shirt to expose his chest and stomach. You kiss all over where you can reach, hearing how he lets out a small whine when you get close to his nipples. “Would my baby mind me touching his chest?”

You place your lips over one, sucking lightly onto his skin. He whines, cock pushing against your stomach as you lick all around. You look at him through hooded eyes, looking at how his arm covers his face as he fights through the stimulation. He can feel how you smile against his nipple while your other hand tweaks the neglected one. It’s all too much and all too little, “Please, need you to touch me already. Need you so bad, mommy!”

“Hmm, but I’m already touching you?” you say messily against his chest, “what more do you need?”

He rubs his hand against his face, realizing that he’s never really begged like this before. His mind feels hazy over how fast you were able to do this for him, make him beg and feel humiliated. You are everything he could have asked for. He sucks in a breath when he feels your teeth brush against him, “Just- my cock. Need to feel you touch my cock. Please.”

“All you had to do was ask, baby.” You move further down, tapping his hip to get him to lift his hips up as you take off his boxers. His cock slaps against his stomach, red and leaking at the tip, now twitching at your attention. You ghost your fingertips over his aching cock, loving how he’s already whining. You wrap your hand over his length, thumb moving up to tease his tip, “Mommy wants to see you cum, do you think you can do that for me?”

He quickly nods, “Wanna cum for you, wanna make a mess all over your hand.”

“I’ve got you, my pretty baby.” You tease his tip with the palm of your hand, spreading around his precum. After a few more whines fill the air, you build a slow rhythm of fisting his length. All the sounds that fill the room are Haechan’s whimpers and the slick sound of your hand on his cock. You press kisses to his thighs, feeling how they jump with your touch. You look up to see him fucked out by just your hand, drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth.

You move your hand faster, watching how his hips fuck up into your hand, needing more than what you’re already giving him. One of his hands trails over his body, stopping at his nipple to squeeze at it. His other hand stops at his mouth, his fingers slipping into his mouth as he moans out to you. You squeeze your thighs together, breath getting heavy from just watching him.

You absentmindly tighten your fist around him, his cock twitching in your hold, “W-wait, I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Need to cum, mommy, please let me cum!”

You frown at him, “Already? Can’t you hold on for a little longer for mommy?”

At your words, he cums all over the tight hold of your fist. Globs of cum land on your hand and on his stomach all while Haechan’s crying out in relief. You sigh out, thumb rubbing over his tip as he yelps in surprise. He tries to reach over to pull your hand off him, but you stop him, “Mommy wants to see how much more you can take, okay?”

Whines fill the air as you quickly move your hand over his length, cum helping the slide over him. It’s messy, slick sounds mixing in with your laughs as his thighs shake around you. His hands try to push against your own while his hips fuck into your hold. Tears threaten to slip from his eyes, his pretty lips open to let cries out. “What’s wrong, baby? Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” you say, feigning concern as your hand twists around his cock.

“H-hurts, hurts so bad that it feels good! Please slow down… just- just a little more and I’ll cum!”

“Aw, is mommy not doing a good job?” you say, practically mocking him.

“No! Please keep going, wanna cum again!” You can see tears slip from his cheeks, his face flushed as one of his hands tugs at his hair. You pull your hand away when he tells you he’s about to cum, hearing the loud sobs he lets out as you swat away his hands that try to wrap around his length.

“Mommy wants to hear how good of a job she’s doing, won’t you tell me how good I’m doing, baby?”

Haechan cries out when he feels you softly lick at his tip, your eyes staring up at him in a way he’s seen so many times before. It’s different now though, him genuinely crying out for you to let him cum. His mind is nearly blank, thoughts only being of you looking so nice between his legs. “You… Mommy's doing such a good job, making me feel so good. Just wanna cum, wanna show mommy how good she’s doing…”

With one last kiss to his tip, you look at him and smile, “Is that true, baby?” your hand moves to his pulsing cock, “It makes me so happy to hear you say that. Might just have to reward you, hmm?”

He cries out when you start moving your fist against him, one of his hands moving to hold onto yours, entwining your fingers. It’s cute, him needing your hold to reassure him. You move down to suckle at his tip again, catching Haechan off gaurd as he shoves his cock further into your mouth. He whines at the warmth of your mouth, you tutting at him for going out of line.

You quickly jerk him off, wanting to see him cum, needing to see him fall apart. You’re breathing heavily affected by your own boyfriend. “Cum for me, mommy wants to see you cum.”

He lets go at your words, cum spurting onto your fist, helping him ride out his orgasm. His hand quickly stops yours before you can try moving your fist over him again. You chuckle at the sight, moving up towards his face. You press kisses along his tear-stained cheeks, feeling the heat radiating off his face as he comes down from his high. You thread your hands through his hair, massaging his scalp as he sniffles. 

You lean down to his ear, “Don’t you think it’s my turn now?”

“Will you… ride me?” he asks, shyly looking away from you.

You laugh at how cute he is like this, giving him one last kiss before you ask him to undress. He peels off his shirt and boxers, his eyes watching you slip off your bra and panties. He reaches out to you, trying to get you close to him. You smile as you sit right over his cock, sliding your wet cunt over his length. His head pushes back into the pillows as he grinds up into you, savoring the feeling of your slick all over him.

“Mommy’s gonna fuck you now,” a wide grin on your face as you put his tip at your entrance, teasing him as you shallowly let him slip inside you. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, his face scrunched up. You place your hands onto his shoulders as you slide down his length, the stretch sending sparks up your spine as you moan out. Even if you’re the one in control right now, it’s still your boyfriend you’re fucking, his cock almost making you lose focus.

His hands shoot up to your sides, holding onto your hips as you experimentally swivel your hips around his length. He’s holding back his moans, biting down on his lips as you bring yourself back up. Your nails dig into his skin, his length filling you up nicely. You look down at him, his eyes trailing up your chest before meeting your gaze, looking fucked out. “Tell me how much you want this, baby.”

He lets out a shaky breath, “Need you, wanna feel you cum around me. Wanna cum in you so bad, wanna fill my mommy up with my cum.”

At his words, you start bouncing on his cock. You watch his face, flushed out as his hands move to hold onto whatever he can. He gropes at your boobs, fingers teasing your nipples. The only noises in the room are his cries, your moans, and the sound of your thighs slapping against his. He’s breathing heavily, eyes watering once more. You realize what’s happening when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, your eyes widening in excitement.

“You’re gonna cum like this? I haven’t even cum yet, but you can’t help it, right? Didn’t know my good boy could be so dirty.”

He cums inside of you, hips moving against yours as you continue to fuck him. You can feel his cum slip out of your cunt, making a mess between your thighs. He’s moaning loudly, his cock softening inside of you. You laugh out at him, “You came so fast, it felt too good, right? I still need to cum,” you pout, letting your hips take over, “you’ll let me cum, yeah?”

You continue to fuck down onto him, feeling his cock twitch despite how much it might hurt for him right now. He’s fucking his hips into yours, crying out at the pain bleeding into pleasure. You rub your clit down onto him, grinding down slowly, “You know, I never thought that you’d ask me to do this. Thought you’d be able to fuck me every single time.”

He nods, not hearing you clearly as he follows your movements, cock hardening inside of you again. His cum mixed with your slick, stickiness all over his thighs as you move on top of him. He’d have it no other way, watching your face, showing him that you’re just as affected as he is. His hand reaches for yours, placing it softly on his throat. He looks at you, eyes begging you to do something.

You let out a shaky moan, feeling his cock twitch inside you when you slightly tighten your grip on his neck. “You’re still surprising me, can’t ever be satisfied with just one thing.”

You tighten your grip, moving your hips faster against him, him letting out little puffs of air. His eyes roll to the back of his skull, a soft whimper leaving his mouth, “I like you so much, mommy. I’d let you do anything to m-me.”

You let go of his throat, nearly toppling over him as you reach to kiss him. He tries to catch his breath between kisses, hands moving to your hips, moving your hips for you as you focus on him. It’s all too much, your love for him and your cunt clenching around him making it much more intense. 

“Wanna cum with you, mommy. Wanna feel your pretty pussy cum all over my cock.”

You nod, whining out to him as you bounce on his cock, tightly sucking his cock into you. Your hands reach his nipples, toying with them, silently begging him to cum already. He kisses you messily, moaning into your mouth as he finally fills you up once again. He ruts his hips into yours, trying to get you to cum. It doesn’t take much, curling into him as your orgasm washes over you, Haechan whimpering out from how tight you’re clenching around him.

You’re lying on top of him, breaths heavy as you recover from your orgasm. You look at him through bleary eyes, hands moving to wipe the tears off of his face. You slip him out of you, his thighs shaking as you do. He’s warm, melting into your touch as you sigh at him, “You did so good for me, baby. You were such a good boy.”

He smiles at you, not saying anything else as he wraps his arms tightly around you, pressing your chest against his. It’s like this for a while, listening to his heartbeat in his chest while he traces patterns on your back. It reminds you of the other night, before this all started. You grin to yourself, realizing just how lucky you are to have a boyfriend like Haechan.

He mumbles out, too tired to properly speak, “You take such good care of me.”

It almost makes you cry in a way. Now you know how Haechan feels, to give someone your everything during sex. It’s honest, your love spilling out in everything you do. You felt like you were able to pay him back for all he does for you when you whine and beg. You whisper out, not trusting your voice, “It’s only because you take such good care of me.”

A few moments pass, and you remember, “How did you know what I was supposed to do during sex? Like, choking and all that stuff.”

His eyes closed in embarrassment, “Well, the other night I kinda… got off to… all these porn videos?” 

You stare at him in amazement. You really are lucky to have someone like him. 

Months have passed since the first time you dominated him.

Your relationship feels almost as if it were new, enjoying how Haechan tells you each of his thoughts. Hours of nonstop teasing him, him whining in your ear to make him cum. Days where he’s pushing your limits, getting off in front of you in order to get your attention. He says he’s willing to try everything that you want, willing to take any pleasure you give him because it’s you.

There is one thing that you want to try.

You know how jealous he gets of Mark when he’d subtly eye you, jealous that someone wants to take his sweet girlfriend from him. Jealous that his best friend was willing to call you mommy. Although he never really brings it up himself, you can tell that he’s quite possessive of you. Nights where he’d beg to cum in you, beg to let everyone know that you’re his proves your thoughts. 

Although you think getting pregnant would be a surefire way to get Mark off your back, you think it might be easier to show him up close. You come up with a plan to let Mark see you and Haechan in a way he hasn’t seen before.

For a week, you deny Haechan’s advances towards you. You swat his hands away when he tries to grope your ass. You wear a tank top and tiny shorts around him. You whine and beg for him and once he shows interest, you ignore him. At first, he thinks being blatantly ignored is kind of hot because, of course, he’s like that. At the end of the week, he outwardly tells you he tried jerking off but couldn’t cum because he needed you to do it. Brat.

You decide to make your move after the week has ended. You text him after your class and ask if you could make a surprise visit. He agrees and you make your way to his apartment. You find him sitting at his desk, playing Overwatch with another person. You greet him and plant a soft kiss on his lips. Before you can pull away, he deepens the kiss, hands pushing your face towards him. You chuckle lightly, “Focus on your game, Haechan.”

“Can’t. Not when my baby looks so good today.” You hear a muted gag through his headset, and Haechan quickly tells his friend to shut the fuck up. You laugh at his antics, his arms wrapped around your waist, nuzzling his face into your stomach. You brush your fingers through his hair, and he lightly groans. You untangle yourself from his grip, moving to lay on his bed.

“Who are you playing with?” You ask

“Just Mark. Why?” He responds, a hint of jealousy in his voice when you haven’t even done anything yet.

“I was just wondering…” You make yourself comfortable on his bed. 

He hums, resuming his game with Mark. You scroll through your phone, hearing the occasional swearing at Mark for not playing as good. You watch him from his bed, how focused he is on his game, his shorts showing off his pretty thighs, his fingers that tap against his keyboard. You bite your lip, putting your phone down to slowly make your way to Haechan.

He eyes you, smiling at you right by his side. He pats his thighs, silently asking you to sit on his lap. You happily agree, plopping yourself down as he wraps his arms around his back, waiting for another game to start. You sigh, nuzzling your face into his shoulder as you feel the vibrations in his chest from the chuckle he lets out, “My pretty baby, you look so cute right now.”

Before you can reply, you hear Mark speak through Haechan’s headphones. You can’t hear him clearly, but you do hear your name, which puts a frown on Haechan’s face. Haechan quickly tells him to mind his business, telling him to focus on the game that’s about to start. Haechan made this too easy, you think, relaxing into his touch as he begins his game. There’s words being exchanged, and every time Haechan gets a kill, he happily kisses you.

You think there might be a better reward other than a kiss. As the game continues, you begin to shift in his lap, pretending to get more comfortable in Haechan’s lap. You can hear how his hands stutter against his keyboard, quickly regaining his composure, thinking it was an innocent action. You smile to yourself, your boyfriend trying to hold himself back.

It’s not until you softly grind yourself onto his bare thigh, pressing light kisses on his neck. You can feel how hot he’s gotten, not really knowing what to do. It’s when he realizes that you’re only wearing panties under your shirt that he has to mute his mic to look at you increduously, mouth wide open. You say in a breathy voice, “Need you so bad, Haechan, wanna feel you…”

He whispers as if Mark could still hear him, “B-but, I’m still playing my game… and Mark could hear you…”

You can feel his cock twitch against your thigh, “You can be quiet, can't you? I won’t move, just wanna feel you in me.”

His round eyes look into yours as his hands rub against your thighs. He looks like he wants to kiss you, but he’s interrupted by a shout from Mark asking where he’s at. He quickly agrees to your words, pressing a quick kiss on your lips before unmuting his mic, asking Mark to once again mind his business.

You start your ministrations on him, rubbing the tent in his shorts, feeling how his cock grows under your touch. He bites his lips, trying to concentrate on his game, but getting distracted by your touch. He can feel how wet you are on his thigh, mind almost falling apart from how much you’re enjoying this. He shifts his hips once he’s hard, begging you to pull down his shorts.

He lifts his hips, helping you pull them down and seeing how he was wearing no boxers under his shorts. You eye his face, watching the pretty blush form on his face at your realization. You push one side of his headphones off of his ear as you whisper, “Gonna put it in now.”

His eyes move away from his screen as you pull your panties aside, teasing his tip along your slit before putting it at your entrance. You watch as he mouths out a please, his eyes fluttering shut as you slide yourself down his cock. You can feel how his thighs shake under yours as you sit down on him, holding himself back from bucking up into your heat. He can feel how warm and wet your walls are, your slick dripping down his cock.

He’s twitching heavily inside of you, and you have to hold back a laugh from how hard he’s trying right now. He has to stop whimpers from falling out of his mouth even if you’re not doing anything. You swirl your hips a bit, causing Haechan to let out a small whine as he ruts into you. You quickly mute his mic for him, hearing how Mark protests on the other end, “If you get some kills, I’ll start moving. If not, I’ll just sit here waiting for you. Is that alright, baby?”

He nods, lurching forward once more to kiss you messily. You laugh, motioning him to unmute his mic. You press your finger against your lips, reminding him one last time to be quiet. A shaky hand reaches to his mic, quickly answering Mark’s concerns, “It-it was nothing, I just hit my elbow on the desk.”

Another game starts, signaled by Haechan’s fingers against his keyboard. You continue your kisses on his neck, your tongue licking up his neck to his jaw. You can feel him shudder as his cock twitches inside of you. He tries to buck up into you, but you press down on his hips with your hands, stopping his movements. His eyes find yours, practically begging you to do something. You just smile, reminding him about the promise you made with him.

He bites his lip once more as he focuses on his screen, hearing the clicking of his keys. There are jumbled sounds coming from Mark’s end, apparently telling Haechan to hurry up. You can tell Haechan gets frustrated with him as he properly moves up, focusing on his screen to stop Mark from saying anything else. When you hear a ding from his headphones, saying how he’s gotten a kill, you begin to grind down on his cock.

He lets out the smallest whimper, hips pushing into yours as he shuts his eyes, trying to fend off any sounds that might come out of him. He can feel how deep he is inside of you with how slow you’re grinding against him. His hands are shaking, fingers messily moving against his keys. As soon as he starts getting more worked up, you begin to stop, laying forward against his chest.

He wants to start begging for you to move, but with Mark on the other side, he’s scared he might hear him. So he sits there, focusing on his game, trying to get another kill.

“Thought you were good at this game, baby. Making me sit here and wait for you to win,” you say, getting impatient with him. He shakes his head no, and you roll your eyes, “You still have to talk, Haechan. Poor Mark is waiting for you, too.”

Haechan hates how you bring up Mark while he’s literally inside of you. He shifts his weight around, lightly moving you against him. He can feel you clench around him, using every muscle in his body trying not to moan out into his mic. He wonders if that’s what you really want to do, and as he takes a quick glance at you, he sees the small smirk drawn out on your face. He lets out a shaky breath, excitement taking over thinking about what you might do.

After a few more minutes, he can tell how impatient you’re getting. It’s not his fault for missing so many shots, not when you’re tightly wrapped around his aching cock. You press kisses along his skin as your hands trail underneath his shirt, lightly scratching along abdomen. He can feel how you subtly move on top of him, trying to get off along with him.

“Thought you said you were good at video games,” you say a little louder, “if you were, I wouldn’t have to sit here to wait for you.”

Before he can respond, he’s cut off by you placing a hand on his chest, allowing you to sit up. You slide off of his cock, pressing a quick peck on his lips before slamming your hips down onto him. He lets out a loud whimper, hands leaving his keyboard in order to hold onto your sides. You look at his face scrunched up in pleasure, completely overwhelmed by how you’re fucking him.

“Can you tell mommy how good she’s making you feel?”

His eyes look into yours, bleary from the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes. He’s embarrassed and clearly aware of Mark being on the other side. Your hands make their way to his nipples, pinching them harshly, “If you don’t tell me, I’ll leave you here, make you cum by yourself with Mark still on call.”

At the thought, Haechan moans loudly, his words piercing through the air, “Fuck, mommy- making me feel so good! Need you to fuck- want you to- want you keep riding me!”

You can hear a loud, confused sound coming from Haechan’s headphones, but no sign of Mark leaving the call. At Haechan’s words, you put all your energy into riding him. He no longer cares about how loud he’s being, mixtures of whimpers and whines of your name along with the slapping of skin against skin fill the room. 

“Sitting so nicely for me, letting me use you like you’re a toy. You like that, don’t you?” You emphasize your words with a quick tug of his hair, his hips bucking up into yours from the pain. As you try to move your hand away from his hair, he moves to keep your hand there, his round eyes asking you for more. How could you deny him?

“Use me as much as you want. Wanna be mommy’s toy forever!”

Drool slips past his lips, whispering out a messy boy as your thumb goes to the corner of his mouth to clean him up. You move your thumb over his lips, pushing past them and into his mouth. His tongue circles around, his moans muffled around you. You see how his eyes practically beg for more and more despite being consumed by pleasure. You can hear how there’s another game starting behind you, clearly hearing Mark still on call.

“Only I can have you like this, right? No one can fuck me better than my pretty boy.”

He nods, sucking your thumb as he begins to move his hips in rhythm to yours. Tears are welling up in his eyes again, your words affirming every thought in his mind. You know how much he likes to be praised, how much he likes being told that he’s doing a good job. You coo at him as tears begin to spill, your cunt clenching around him tightly to where his hips stutter against yours.

“You’re the only one that gets to see me like this. Isn’t that right, Mark?” Haechan removes himself from your thumb in order to moan out at your words, and you can hear how Mark disconnects from the game and from the call.

“Finally,” you moan out, rolling your hips faster onto Haechan, “he was taking too long to get off the call. Probably wanted to see how good I take care of my sweet boy, hm?”

“Yes! You take care of me so good, can’t believe I’m yours. Wanna show everyone that you’re mine!” He’s thrusting into you quickly, his tip hitting your sweet spot. You can feel how his body is shaking under yours, overwhelmed by you taking everything from him. 

“Now Mark knows that you belong to me, that I don’t want anyone but you,” you say as you lick up his throat. His hips are stuttering against yours, close to cumming inside of you. You take his hand to your clit, trying to get him to get you off. In a whiny voice close to his, you ask, “Wanna cum with you, won’t you let me cum with my pretty boy?”

He can feel himself fall apart under you, the sight of you on top of him, using him for your own pleasure takes over his mind. He’s not sure what you just said, mind only thinking about you. He nods dumbly, fingers moving sloppily against your clit. He thrusts into you, trying to help you cum before him. He can hear your sharp whine as your face buries itself into his shoulder, and feels how your walls clench tightly around him as you cum.

He lightly thrusts up into you, his cum shooting into you as he whimpers and cries out to you. He’s not sure by how loud he’s being, but by how you move to kiss him, he’s sure that he’s being louder than you. Your tongues messily press against each other as you ride yourselves through your orgasms, feeling how he twitches inside of you. You pull off of him, a small whimper from sensitivity slipping out of Haechan.

“You did so good for me… just wanted to show my baby how much I wanted him…”

His tired eyes are filled with love when he looks at you, “Couldn’t have asked for anything more, love how you treat me. I just… I love you.”

You shyly laugh as you move to kiss him, letting all the love you have for him speak for itself. He holds you by your sides, smiling into the kiss as you giggle against him. There’s nowhere more you’d rather be than right here, enjoying your boyfriend and everything he has to offer you.

It’s not until you’re interrupted by Haechan’s phone ringing, making you both groan out. He begrudgingly picks it up, immediately smiling and showing you his phone.

[markly] 11:48, you guys are FREAKS

[markly] 11:48, YOU KNOW I WAS JOKING RIGHT… ABOUT EVERYTHING I SAID…

[markly] 11:48, KEEP ME OUT OF YOUR BUSINESS PLEASEEE 🙏 (or dont)

You smile as you read Mark’s texts off of Haechan’s phone. Your boyfriend laughs into your neck as he puts his phone down, wrapping both arms around you. You don’t think you’d want this any other way.

a/n: GOD. this was so long for no reason but im glad its out... i always wondered how people could write more than 10k but now I Get It. THANK YOU FOR READING!!!

taglist: @mwahaechz @froggyforyoongi @hrts4doie @jenodreamer

#nct smut #nct fic #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #haechan smut #haechan scenarios #sub haechan #haechan fic

[strwberri-milk]

a/n: cue me listening to the same secret time over and over to put me in the right mindframe for this bc I don’t have either of the cards for the AB set for this goddamn FISH – im still learning about him/specifically abysswalker raf as well bc I know nothing outside this audio so there are indeed going to be some growing pains uwu im still learning his voice but im in love w him <3

Wrapped in Moonlight

AO3 || Rafayel x Fem!Reader || Soft Smut, Mild Angst || 3, 503 Words

additional tags: accidental mask kink, fingering, vaginal sex, first time having sex [w/ e/o], first kiss [w/ e/o], rafayels acc so in love with you, i like the moon and havent ever had to write a lot of water motifs before

The dull thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears has never been louder, not until this moment here, with you.

Your eyes look up at him from where you lay on your bed, teeth lightly worrying over your lips as you take a deep breath, shaking your head as though to shake away the words that had his feet planted firmly on the ground. You’d taken to summoning him more often as of late and even if he could, he would never reject your requests. Rafayel knew that it was dangerous but he couldn’t think to care, beginning to crave being by your side in ways that drove him mad.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you. Please, just forget I even said anything,” you begin to plead, averting his gaze and retreating further into your lush sheets. Sheets he knows the feeling of, the barely there warmth that his fingertips longed to feel, his resolve cracking every time you sleepily ask him to stay until you fall asleep.

“Your Highness doesn’t think I’d really be able to forget such a request, does she?” he decides to say instead, wanting to lean into a slightly more playful side of his persona to cope with the swell of emotions crashing down into his chest.

You stay silent and he decides to take this opportunity to step closer. His gloved hand parts the beaded curtain, your breath catching in your chest as you see the way the candle’s light faintly illuminating his face. Rafayel’s eyes are intense, something you’ve always noticed when he looks at you. All thoughts begin to cease as soon as his eyes meet yours, leaning in closer to you.

“Did you really think that I’d forget that you asked me to kiss you?”

The words hang heavy between the two of you, an unnamed but not unnoticed tension sitting on your shoulders once again. It felt like the two of you were constantly doing some song and dance, skirting around the way you both felt about each other. He looks like he’s got something more to say, watching you intently before stepping away. The clicking of the curtains gives you something else to focus on as you try to still your erratic heartbeat, hearing him draw the curtains to your room open at the same time as him blowing out the candles.

He stands in your window for a moment, the moon’s light wrapping around him so intimately you can’t help but be jealous. You shift in your bed, unconsciously crawling towards him. The sound makes him turn to look at you, hues coloured with something you can’t quite understand. You think you’ll drown in the depths of them but you can’t be bothered to care. If it meant being able to touch him, even for just a moment then you’d be more than willing to suffer that consequence.

“Rafayel, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just didn’t think before I spoke.”

And you couldn’t, not when he looked at you like he wanted to devour you or whenever he’d touch you gently to reassure you of his presence.

Silence and tension continue to colour the air between the two of you and you have a fleeting thought that this might be the last time you ever see him. You couldn’t ever summon him again, not after leaving things like this. Rafayel can feel your eyes flitting over his figure, imagines that you’re committing his features to memory.

“It’s quite the opposite,” he admits after some time, long strides closing the distance between the two of you in no time.

You find yourself being pushed back against the bed. Slowly, Rafayel pushes you to lay on your pillow, staring up at him in the moon’s light. He looks ethereal like this and you can’t imagine how you’re still capable of any sort of thinking right now.

A slight chuckle leaves his lips at the sight of your eyes widening. His hand goes to cup your face, leaning in so close your noses would be touching were it not for that infuriating piece of leather that keeps your breaths from intermingling. You have half a mind to ask him again, this time in the form of a wish to see if he’ll accept but you feel your mind go blank as you feel him press his face against your neck.

“What are you-”

Your words devolve to gasps, hands going to cling onto his shoulders as you feel him periodically press a little harder against your skin. If you close your eyes and really focus you think you can feel his lips pressing against the leather, kissing you through his mask. His breath rings in your ear, you trying to keep your gasps quiet to avoid drawing attention to your chambers.  

“Fulfilling Your Highness’ wish. Is that not what you wanted?”

You know that even this much is more than you could ever ask for, Rafayel always watching you cautiously whenever your hands would near his mask. You understand that he has his reasons for privacy and you would never ask him why but now, you’re just desperate to feel his lips on your skin, desperate to know if it’s as good as you’ve fantasized about. The only solace you get is the warmth of his body seeping through his clothes, teasing the tips of your fingers as you try not to act desperate for more of his touch.

“I can feel you holding back. Don’t tell me Your Highness is getting greedy?” he laughs breathily, the slight pant in his voice unnoticed by you with how divine it feels to be under him.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” you manage to mumble, biting back a slight moan when you feel his arm creep under your back and push you closer to his face.

“Hate you?”

The words leave his throat almost bloody. Just the sheer thought of hating you made his stomach churn, murky waters of his affection for you maddened that you could ever think such a thing. His hands tighten their grip on your body to a way that’s almost painful, looking up at you with a look that has so much want in it that it steals the breath out of your lungs.

“I could never hate you.”

His hair tickles your throat as you feel him settle against your neck, nuzzling into you and resting his hand on your waist. You try to turn to face him but the weight of his body stops you, Rafayel giving you a sound of disagreement.

“I told you already. It’s quite the opposite.”

You try to ask him to clarify, about to open your mouth when you he quickly gets up. He looks at you quickly before going to look around your room, shaking his head good naturedly at the slight furrow of your brows and parted lips. You watch him rummage through your things, getting even more confused when he returns with a strip of ribbon between his fingers.

He crawls over your body again, tilting your chin with his knuckles. You think you’re imagining it in the low light but the apples of his cheeks seem tinted red. Curious, you bring your hand up to the side of his face. You’re glad that he doesn’t seem to be flinching away from your touch. A smile graces your lips when you feel how warm his face is, Rafayel now pulling away from you slightly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, a slight pout in his voice.

“You’re warm,” you laugh, bringing your hand closer to his face.

Your fingers brush against his ear, sure with how warm they are that he’s bright red. Your fingers trail down the curves, nail tracing the shape of his jaw down to his collar. He doesn’t shy away. Instead, his hand goes to grab your wrist, the ribbon tickling your skin as he leans in closer.

“This is your fault. You know that, right?” he scolds lightly.

“If it weren’t for you my heart wouldn’t feel like a hurricane over the ocean. Do you feel that?”

He brings your wrist over to rest on his chest, your palm resting over his heart. True to his word you can feel his heart pounding under your fingers. He presses his chest against you, brows furrowing as your fingers press against him.

“You should be more understanding, Your Highness. You can’t just do these things to people and leave them washed up on the beach during low tide. It’s cruel.”

The way he pitches his voice in your ear makes you swoon and you’re glad you’re already laying down. Your knees feel weak and you barely register his thumbs tracing a smooth line across your cheek. You’re both so close to each other that you’re suffocating in his presence.

“Are you willing to face the consequences?” he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Weakly, you nod. With this, he brings both his hands to your face and suddenly you have your vision obscured by the ribbon he pulled out earlier. You bring your hands up to reach for it, immediately stopped by his strong grip.

“You said you’d be willing to accept it. You trust me, don’t you?”

His voice is raspy, laced with something more than just the question he’s asked you. There’s a weight to his words, something dragging down the vowels and accentuating the bite of his consonants. Your breath is caught in your throat as you wait for him to finish tying the ribbon behind your head, whimpering softly when he brings his thumb to press against your bottom lip.

Forced to wait, you try to imagine what he might do now. Your mind runs wild, barely listening to the sounds around you when you feel his weight on your body again. You reach out for him but gasp when you feel his lips press against your bare skin. The sound is indecent and you’re embarrassed you were even capable of making it but when you try to hide it you feel him bite you, squeaking in response.

“Don’t hide from me. I want to hear your voice. Don’t you think I deserve a bit of a reward for this?”

He continues to litter your skin in featherlight kisses, and you realise that his clothes don’t seem as thick as they usually are. You can feel his skin through the thinner layers, about to say something when his lips press against yours. It’s soft, barely there but the contact is enough to make your mind spin. You get the sense that he’s testing your boundaries and before he can pull away you wind your fingers through his hair, kissing him more insistently this time.

“I hope you don’t mind the blindfold, but I think it’s more exciting this way, don’t you think? This way, you’re forced to guess what I’m going to do next to you,” he breathes against you when he finally pulls back.

“You just like teasing me,” you mutter, scared to admit just how much you liked this and wanted him to keep going.

“I’m just trying to get revenge on you. You’ve been teasing me too! Don’t act like you’re innocent in all of this.”

He starts to trail kisses down your neck again, sucking gently against your collar. As much as he would like to, he can’t leave any marks on your skin. Something even semi-permanent like that seems far too cruel for someone like him to leave on someone like you. He reveres you and you can feel it in the way he kisses you, showering your body in an affection he’s never felt for anybody else.

“Rafayel – please –” you whimper, his name coming off your tongue his own siren song.  

“Please what? I won’t know what you want if you don’t tell me,” he hums, hand going to play with the fabric beginning to bunch under your waist.

He slots himself between your legs and your knees rest against his hips. You wish you could see him, look at the expression on his face. You wish you could watch him press kisses to your skin, watch his fingers tighten against you the way they are now, the way his nails scratch lightly against your skin between the slits of your nightgown.

“More, please,” he hears you ask weakly. “I need more of you. Rafayel? Please?”

He thinks he should tease you more but considering your current state and his own desperation he decides not to. Instead, he pushes up the fabric on your legs slowly, trying to see if you’ll stop him. When you don’t and instead try to egg him on by making it easier for him, he lets his hands rest on your thighs now laid bare for his hungry gaze.

“Are you sure? This is really something you want?”

The question is desperate, Rafayel not knowing if he wants you to stop him or not. His body longs to be pressed against yours, to make you say his name that prettily over and over again. He thinks he’ll die if he can’t have it, kissing lower and lower over the fabric on your chest to convince you to say yes.

He doesn’t know that he doesn’t have to fight that hard for you.

You clasp your fingers with his, bringing them to rest on the inside of your thighs. He’s glad he can’t see the look in your eyes, knowing that if he did it’d make all of his resolve crack if this is how bold you’re already being without being able to see the effect you have on him.

Tentatively, he brings his fingers closer to the heat burning between your legs. It doesn’t take him long to feel the damp spot between your legs and recognise that it’s getting damper with each kiss he gives you. You start to whine as his fingers tease your slit through your underwear, your body feeling things you didn’t know you could feel just with his touch.

“I didn’t know you were capable of such dirty things Your Highness.”

Despite his teasing words, you can tell he wants it just as much when he slips his fingers between the fabric and your body, fingers haphazardly exploring your body as he kisses your lips again. He swallows each moan you give him desperately, relishing in the whimper you give him when his fingertips start circling your clit.

“You’re the one doing this to me,” you whine, hips bucking against his palm as his fingers slip inside.

“You’re the one who started this. I’ll stop whenever you tell me to,” he mumbles against your neck.

Your moans are louder now and as much as he’d love to have everyone hear how good he makes you feel he also would hate it if your maid came in and saw what was happening. He covers your mouth with his free hand, ignoring the way it feels to have your gasps pressed up against his palm. He wants to ruin you, make you cry and scream from pleasure and have you be his for the rest of time but here, in the quiet of your bedroom he’ll settle for just this for now.

His hand stays focused, letting you moan and gasp into his palm as he fingers you. You feel his palm rest against your body, thumb replacing his finger as he the heel to rest against your core. He can make out gasps of his name when he hits a certain part inside of you and decides it’s too cruel to keep your mouth covered like this. You immediately moan his name, quieter this time to avoid being heard by your staff.

You clench around his fingers, the hand not bracing against his chest going to grab his wrist. Rafayel gives you a breathy laugh and you bury your face against his neck, continuing to moan and plead for him quietly.

“Please – Rafayel – I –“

Your own words are cut off quickly by your impending orgasm, biting into his shoulder to try and hold back your noises as your hips arch into him. The bite of your clothes against your skin as you writhe does nothing to impede the feeling of his hand on your cunt, Rafayel’s voice gently talking you through your orgasm. Stars litter the space of your eyelids, Rafayel’s arm coming to hold you against him.

When you finally come down you find yourself placed carefully in Rafayel’s lap. He’s taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants, gently tracing shapes on the skin of your lower back. Your blindfold is still on but you don’t doubt that the hard planes of your bed is Rafayel and when you hear his voice come from just above you you know you’re right.

“You’re awful to me, did you know that?” he muses, groaning slightly when you reposition yourself slightly and brush up against his cock.

“Stop that! I can’t believe you right now.”

“I’m just trying to get comfortable! This is just as much your fault as it is mine,” you say hazily.

You sit up on your knees, carefully putting your arms around his shoulders. You reach behind yourself to touch him, shuddering at the gasp he gives you against your arm. You feel his tip prodding gently against your opening, sinking down slightly. When you hear him gasp again you know you have him where you want him.

“You really want this?” you ask him huskily, mirroring his words from before.

Your hand rests on his cheek and you can feel him nod, continuing your slow descent onto his lap. It takes you a second to adjust to his size, hugging his neck tighter as you moan. His hands come to rest on your hips and he shifts slightly to create a better angle for himself. This makes him sink into you just the slightest bit deeper, you whimpering pathetically as he starts a slow, languid pace thrusting into you.

“Rafayel!” you gasp, hands bunching in his hair as you let him dictate the pace.

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, Your Highness. I’m here for you. Don’t worry – I’ll make you feel good. You know I will,” he mutters into your ear, continuing his gentle grind into you.

For the umpteenth time you wish that you could see him. For now, you have to sate yourself with his pretty moans and gasps, the way he feels inside of you and the affectionate kisses he peppers across your skin. Thanks to his pace you feel yourself coming to a slow build of your orgasm, his soft words of praise and coaxes going straight to your cunt. He groans every time you clench around him, the feeling of your pussy finally being wrapped around him making it hard for his mind to stop swimming.

He angles his hips to find that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, bringing a hand down to your clit despite how much he loves holding you because he knows he’ll love the feeling of you cumming around him more. When you give him a sharp gasp he knows he’s found it, thrusting more insistently. You grind against his pelvis, not wanting it to be over too quickly but still desperate for your release.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Rafayel asks, pulling you out of the depths of your stupor just barely.

“I can feel it. You’re getting so tight around me – if you squeeze me like this then I’ll cum too. It’s okay, just let go. I told you I’d make you feel good, didn’t I? You’ve already done so well. Just a little bit more, okay?” he coaxes, the sound of his voice tipping you over the edge.

You cum with a broken cry of his name, holding onto his shoulders tightly. It takes him just a couple more strokes inside of you to cum himself, unable to think of anything but filling you up and claiming you as his in this small way. The two of you sit together, coming down from your shared high. You whine a little about still wearing the blindfold but that’s quickly quieted by him kissing you again, telling you that it’s part of the condition for him kissing you.

Your breathing slows together and after a minute he feels you becoming dead weight. He laughs to himself when he realises that you’ve fallen asleep on him, carefully moving you aside to lay you back down on your bed. After cleaning the two of you up and tucking you into bed he gives you one final kiss to your forehead. You make a small noise of complaint, Rafayel kneeling at the side of your bed to take one last look at you for the night. His hand rests on your cheek softly, pretending that this didn’t drastically change everything.

“I love you. Sleep well, my Princess,” he whispers, the far away sound of waves lapping on a shore the only witness to his words.  

#love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel smut

[yumeka-sxf]

In addition to Yor's epiphany scene, this scene was the other one I was most looking forward to in season 2 - a scene that, in my opinion, is one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far 💖

Why is it so significant? Because there was no reason for Twilight to put on any Loid Forger acting in that moment. He wasn't conversing with nor being scrutinized by anyone. So why would he give that soft smile followed by such affectionate, comforting words as "お疲れ様/otsukaresama"? (this can be translated in many ways, but generally it's something you say to thank someone for their hard work).

The answer is because it's something he truly felt...he understood the sacrifice Yor made for Anya's happiness and genuinely appreciated it (if only he knew the sacrifice she made on the larger scale, lol). While he's a bit perturbed at first since some onlookers were snickering at him, it didn't take long for him to soften and then graciously carry his queen and princess the girls back to the ship 😭

But Twilight overall was really soft in this episode and I loved it~ From his blush upon seeing Yor to the several times he gave that same soft smile when talking with/looking at her...I think Anya was right when she called him out on the ship about missing his wife 😅

I liked how the anime conveyed his shock when noticing her bruised face...what must have been his thought at that moment? 👀

The scenes of the family activities translated better in animated form in my opinion. While they were each only a single panel in the manga, they lasted a few seconds each in the anime, plus the addition of the insert song helped the with the comfy, wholesome vibe~ Also the part where Yor inadvertently chucks Anya across the ocean is still hilarious.

Loid's dorky skip at the beginning of the episode translated very well in animated form too 😅

The ending of this chapter in the manga always felt a bit rushed to me...it quickly jumps from the aforementioned scene of them returning to the ship, to suddenly being home, reuniting with Bond and Franky, having a meal together, then Twilight meeting Sylvia, all within a few panels. Even though I wish the anime added more than just some additional scenes of the ship leaving the island, I felt it flowed much better in the anime since, just like the family activities, each scene in the ending lasted a second or two instead of being a single illustration.

But I love how this chapter/episode ends, with Yor, Anya, and Bond napping while Anya draws about her family vacation. This seems to take place the next day or maybe later the same day they got home, so makes sense they'd still be tired from the trip!

By the way, the manga has this additional scene showing that Olka and company are safe. Weird that the anime didn't stick it in at some point.

Also, the anime team didn't have to go so hard with this episode's key visual but they did...and I love it 😍 Might actually be my favorite of the key visuals so far!

I was very happy to see the "surrounded by liars" panel finally animated! This is such a funny scene and a great way to fully wrap up the cruise arc.

I also burst out laughing at Yuri's locker 🤣

Damian is surprisingly laid back in this episode. I think the reason is because Anya's antics aren't directly involving him. He tends to go total tsundere only when she's actually talking to him, lol.

The new scene of Yor getting the keychains for her coworkers was a nice addition! Guess it's canon that Yor and Anya didn't sleep for the entire trip back, lol. Glad they got to spend family time on the ship too! (though I wish we could have seen Yor's reaction waking up in Loid's bottom bunk bed, haha. He must have brought her to his room since he wouldn't know where her room is. Unless she woke up before he even put her in a bed, in which case she would have been super embarrassed knowing he was carrying her around in public 😆)

Looks like next week the anime will be changing the order of things a bit and giving us the Becky home-wrecking and Fiona chapters (the latter of which seems to have some anime original content?) The Becky chapter is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters...I'm already dying of laugher thinking about it 😂

#spy family #spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #twiyor #sxf anime #becky blackbell #yuri briar