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ncteez · 2 days ago

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M.I.L.F. (Make It Last Forever) ― L.DH

Haechan, a favorite among classy wives to hire during the hot summer season for a nice, thorough pool cleaning, seems to have a favorite wife of his own. You. Or the one where Haechan was the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for, but now he’s making it his mission to be the pain-in-your-ass pretend husband that you never asked for, but very clearly need.

minors dni

PAIRING ― lee haechan x afab milf!reader

WORDCOUNT― 18.9k

CONTENT― age gap: reader is 31 and haechan is 24, milf trope/single mother reader, college pool boy haechan (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and haechan really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! haechan just doesn’t see it as a moral issue, he is actually very sweet

!WARNINGS! ― age gap, haechan is somewhat of a manipulator, he’s gentle but won’t take no for an answer. dub-con in one instance. major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink (domesticity), angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits

NOTE ― this was written for jay from enhypen over on my other blog, but i am gifting it to you guys here as well! I WROTE THEM BOTH!!!! NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― thick big dick haechan, small instant dubious consent, tit obsessed haechan, groping and grinding, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum stuffing-ish,pussy eating, fingering, basically it’s haechan doing stuff to you, this ain’t smut this is making love, also reader doesn’t shave her coochie and haechan fucking loves it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having a stray eye isn’t typically something you afford yourself when it comes to men. Things tend to change with time though, that much you know is true.

It was proven to you for the first time when your ex husband decided to up and leave you three weeks before your due date for a woman–well, girl, fresh out of highschool. Years of trust and promises crushed with just a single sentence and a slam of the door. Time must’ve changed you for him to leave so heartlessly. Time must’ve changed him to become so cold.

It was proven again when you were able to heal despite never believing you could. Seconds of pain turned to minutes, to hours. Days. weeks. Months. Years of pain before being able to wake up and feel somewhat numb to it all. Like a flip switch in your head that told you that you can be happy now even if as a single mother. After all, the hard part was over.

It took some four to five years, but it did happen. Time did change you, it healed you, it matured you. As your child grew, so did you. And for the better, you think. You count your blessings of living a life far more lavish than you ever could have anticipated given the circumstances that had been thrown at you. Even to the point of nesting, wanting another child, wanting a big and happy family. But alas, your ex husband had better things to do.

At the end of the day, you’d never be able to call this home yours if you had stayed with your ex husband. He didn’t like this kind of “flashy” lifestyle, and to him, everything you wanted seemed too flashy for him. Perhaps he was right to some extent, as you recognize the brand name goods you now own, solely because you had promised yourself in the depths of your despair that you’ll get to a point in life where you can buy yourself everything you not only need, but want. So, here you are, owning an expensive home, in a nice neighborhood, with a nice car and a nice pool.

Your daughter has everything she could want and need too, aside from a sibling, it’s certainly still more than what you had growing up and it’s all because of you. A fully decorated bedroom drenched in glitter, purples, creams, yellows, and pink, her favorite color. All sorts of play houses, costumes, dolls, a few lego sets, and even some plastic swords and knives for the days she wants to pretend to be her favorite movie characters. Clothes she can grow into, and a nice little fund building up for her as she grows up. Her first car, college, help for a downpayment on her own first house.

Both of you have everything you could ever want or need and for that, you’re so proud. Especially knowing your husband would have never believed you could make it this far without him. Still, despite having everything you could ever ask for, there’s something in you that feels empty.

Time changes things.

Time changes a lot of things, you note more than usual, as the man you’ve been ogling for the past three weeks makes himself far more known to you than you ever wished he would.

The interaction with him was always so quick before today and given the fact that he was a complete stranger, you never quite invited him into your home considering–you know, small child and all. You had hired him over text. Haechan, your neighbor said his name was. His handsome features didn’t offer you anything more than a clean pool and a wandering eye.

Your neighbor apparently has a friend who has a cousin that has an even nicer pool than you do. Given, it’s only a nicer pool due to the fact that this young man, Haechan, tended to it weekly and made damn sure it could be drunk out of if a person had a craving for chlorine.

You feel like an idiot now that it didn’t dawn on you quick enough. Sure, he looked a bit familiar to you but who doesn’t when you’re always out and about seeing so many different faces on a daily basis? His name, Haechan, didn’t ring any bells. Now though, the shame of staring at his sweaty pecs and biceps came crashing down the moment you realized who Haechan actually is.

He didn’t do a damn thing to remind you either, if anything, all he did was walk around all sweaty in the afternoon heat with his tank top either sticking to him, or off entirely. It appears that you had just been too busy running errands with your child, considering his shifts were always when you were home. Too busy cooking, cleaning, reading, lounging. Too busy looking at…well, not his face.

Too busy to give the man a glance more than that of a slice of pie behind a bakery window.

Haechan.

Since fucking when was that his name?

“Lee Donghyuck.” You whimper near mortified, three weeks too late as you hand him his pay with nervous hands. “Spray-cheese in my hair Donghyuck?”

“Ah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that.” He smiles at you with that crooked grin, a knowing look that any man at a bar would give you if he had caught you checking him out. Then, he pockets the hefty amount of cash that you hand to him. “I go by Haechan more often these days.” He trails off, an amused smirk half-falling as he looks at your expression of realization. “You can call me whatever you want though.”

He’s well aware of how often you’ve checked him out since he started intentionally taking his clothes off. After all, it’s mid-july by this point and the sun baring down on him doesn’t quite call for a fucking turtle neck sweater. Or a T-shirt, or a tank top, for that matter. It calls for all skin baby, beautifully tanned and toned for you and any of your neighbors to look at if they so wanted to.

Haechan doesn’t work out for nothing, after all. Summer after summer, he’s found himself to be quite fond of the rich women that hire him for their pool services. Always wanting an attractive young man to wander around half naked and satiate their lack of sex life with their husbands, or boytoys, or what have you. He knows all that extra pay isn’t because he does a good job either. He’s gotten winks, small comments, even a few offers of his body for more pay.

He’s turned them all down, of course. For a full-on affair, anyway. Haechan has gotten a few blow jobs and quickies as a tip before though, and a lot of that is why he keeps getting referred to more women. Richer women. Never single women.

Until you.

He quite enjoyed catching you looking at him. Especially given the fact that he knew exactly who you were when you introduced yourself to him via text. That little childhood crush on you came back within an instant upon actually seeing you again. Truly, he had forgotten all about you up until that fateful day three weeks ago.

If he’s being honest, he’s been pining something fierce since he first stepped foot on your property. Excitement swelled inside of him just to see you again. To see if you’re still hot, to see how you’re doing, what you’re doing. How your life is going.

He knew you didn’t recognize his nickname through text, and he definitely knew you didn’t recognize him to be eating him up with those eyes of yours either. So, he played along, enjoying it while he could before it would inevitably dawn on you. Still, he remembers you so well from back then. Crazy to know that he rarely thought of you for the past twelve years or so, and how all those little butterflies of his came back in a far more mature way. He was only twelve back then, but he’s a man now.

Twenty four and perfectly sound as a man who knows what he likes. The fact that you happen to fall into that category is no fault of his own, honestly. It’s your fault if anyone’s at all. Haechan is a man that likes a specific type of woman too. Woman. Not a girl, not a young lady, not a free spirit, nor a prude. He is drawn to the idea of experience, to the idea of settling down. It’s not easy to find that at his age, in college, surrounded by party girls and casual drug use.

And, well, imagine his smile upon seeing your lovely, lavish home with the large pool, no ring on your finger, a whole fucking child, and your motherly instincts when you buckle her into the car for an errand. Oh and the broken fence in the far back of your yard.

You’re a single mom.

A hot single mom who lives lavishly. One who could probably use a man’s help around your house.

He half expected you to be able to recognize him when he appeared for work the first time. He even had a monologue in his head on what to say to you, and how to present himself. You didn’t seem to take notice though, introducing yourself to him as if you hadn’t spent all that time in his childhood home when you were a teenager. Like you never mothered him, or put him to sleep with the soft stories when you let him watch all those scary movies before bed. Even at twelve, he was a scaredy cat.

Clearly you’re too busy experiencing life to notice the way he fawns over you too. Hating how you’re more reserved than the other lavish, fixed-up women. You seem to have standards, or maybe it’s just priorities ... that's so hot. Truly, it only makes him want you more because by now, the other women would already be rubbing all over him. The ones who shouldn’t be wanting him the way they do. So, yes, he’s always stealing glances at you with sparkling dark eyes, fantasizing in his head that this pool is his to clean now, because that’s what a good man would do for you, right? With him around servicing your pool and lawn, you’d never need to hire or spend money on another broke ass college student again.

Yes. That’s how quickly he fell into this infatuation solely because you looked at him like you want it without realizing who he was. Hell, without realizing how perfect you are in terms of what he wants.

God, how are you still single?

Like, why do you have a child and a house so beautiful without a man wandering around doing all of this work for you? Not that you couldn’t do it on your own, it’s just, you clearly have the means to make a man do as you please. Why haven’t you?

You happen to fall almost perfectly into the categories of what he’s looking for. Save for the fact that now you recognize him as that kid you used to babysit rather than the man who tries to be sexy while cleaning your pool. Which is a fucking shame, if he’s being honest, to be written off as that same ten year old child rather than a fucking man who very clearly has needs and desires.

The point is– Haechan wants you and he parades around your pool for you to look at him. So what if you used to babysit him? It’s not like you’re an old swamp-hag trying to lure him with candy. You’re just…a woman. And he’s just a man.

“Well, thank you for cleaning again,” You trail off in an awkward tone, shifting your eyes to anywhere but him. He watches you though, smiling a smile you know all too well from his childhood antics. It must mean something different now, or maybe not. “I guess I’ll see you next week?”

“Well, actually,” Haechan offers, “Would you be opposed to–” You cut him off instantly with an awkward wave of your hand.

You don’t know why you make assumptions, maybe from that damned smile on his face, but you do recall your ex husband reminding you time and time again that it’s one of the things he hated about you.

Assumptions. Always thinking the worst, or perhaps the most filthy of situations and expressions. To be fair, you feel guilty about how you’ve been looking at him, you can’t help but panic trying to pretend like it never happened, and that he never saw it happen.

“I’m not interested, Donghyuck.” You respond hastily, pressing your thumb to your bottom lip to bite the skin on it, keeping your eyes away from him with the awkward words. After all, he knew who you were this whole time and paraded around like that?

Even before recognizing him yourself, you know men well enough to know when they’re trying to flaunt. Is it so wrong to assume?

“Interested in what?” Haechan tilts his head knowingly, seeing the way you buckle under the guilt of staring at the very man you used to tuck into bed every night. He can see the way you try to push those sexual thoughts you had away in the quick rejection to a simple assumption.

“I was just going to ask if you want me to fix your fence.”

Ah, you did get ahead of yourself through the guilt, and you’re far too aware of it as you draw your eyes back to him and note the expression on his face. Amused, maybe a bit of concern in his eyes, even?

“Ah, um–” You start, trailing your eyes down your fence line never once noticing a break in it. Haechan is quick to point though, leaning to you with a whisper of “right there.” And well, you did not need to hear that tone in his voice the way you just did.

God, it’s so awkward.

“Well, how much would that cost me?” You question with an empty voice, staring at the broken fence.

“Free.” He uses the same tone, leaning away from you now and smiling wide. “That is, if you provide lunch.”

Well, despite the awkwardness, that break over there would cost you a pretty penny to fix, and your daughter needs the safety of playing in her own yard without random animals or worse, people, making their way in. Plus, you’re quite fond of saving money. How else would you be here if you weren’t good at it? And now, given that you’re most definitely not interested in Haechan, what's the harm in making a few sandwiches for someone you already know well enough? It’s not like you’ve never made him lunch before.

The awkwardness will pass and your guilt will subside. You both will laugh at it over a cold glass of iced lemonade, surely. It’s not like you realized who he was anyway, it’s not like you’re just gonna keep looking at him like that. You should just push forward and it’ll all be fine.

“Hell, I’d even watch the kiddo so you can have a break every now and then.” He watches your reaction, wanting to ask so many questions about why you’re single, who the father is, where he is, why he isn’t here. “After all, I learned quite a bit from you.”

For a second you consider that too.

And there’s three reasons as to why you should. The first being that you were literally just looking for a new child care facility due to learning of the staff coming to work while sick. Your poor daughter came home with a fever just last week, and you’ve had little luck in finding a place with the same educational benefits for her.

The second being that, well, while you’re not hurting for cash or anything, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to put a little more back for her college fund. Or for fun little vacations.

And lastly, despite your guilt of lusting over someone you shouldn’t have, you know Donghyuck and you know his family even better. No background check would be needed, your daughter could be in the comfort of her own home rather than a classroom setting that she’s sure to see for at least twenty years of her life in the future.

So, yes. You consider it instantly, and Haechan sees it.

You only know of the childhood version of him and, well, the slutty pool-side version of him apparently. If only you knew of that other side of him and how fond he is of watching his own younger cousins. How good he is with children, and how much he clings to the idea of being a father one day.

Haechan is great with kids, with or without them having a hot mom.

And well, he knows that he’s fond of looking at you at least. Besides, as long as you can work with his class schedules, he’d be willing to do just about anything to play pretend-husband, even if you’re unaware of it.

“Is that so?” You finally ask, curious eyes looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be out living the life? College parties and such?” You add, wondering why such a great deal has managed to flop down on your lap. The idea of even cheaper childcare without the risk of unvaccinated children, and sick caretakers being far too good of a deal to pass up.

“Well, yeah I guess.” He shrugs, leaning backwards to stretch and roll his shoulders. “Not really my scene though. I have classes Monday and Wednesday all day, Tuesday and Thursdays my classes are online. If you can work around that, I’d rather just be making money and chilling.”

You think about it just for a second more when he continues.

“I can be here on weekends too. Maybe you should be the one out relaxing and having some drinks.”

“Well, I don’t quite need that, or for you to be here on weekends.” You think as you say it, knowing you have given up on going out to try and meet men two years ago. “I could pay you though, let’s say, thirty an hour?”

Well, shit, that’s not too bad at all, especially considering he’s about to give up on cleaning the pools of a few women in his contacts for this. It’s a major pay cut, but still enough to get by comfortably if you’ll have him multiple times a week. That plus the pool cleaning money? And free lunch?

“Oh, you don’t go out at all? I don’t see why not, could probably get a man in no time–” Haechan ignores the wage offer and pushes to note the singlehood he had been noticing for the past three weeks. “and the pay is fine.”

“Ah, well, the dating pool isn’t so great in this neck of the woods.” You scratch the back of your neck when you say it. “That aside, I'll have her in day care on the days you can’t be here, but it really would be a big help. Thank you for the offer, Donghyuck. And for the fence too.”

He watches you with a firm nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts, still entirely shirtless in front of you.

“And the pool.” You add quietly after a moment.

“I think you’d be surprised about the dating pool.” He smiles as he pushes the subject back to what you had previously said, hoping you believe those words before continuing. “So, when do you want me to start?”

“Is tomorrow too soon? You’re okay to set up here with your online classes?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” He smiles.

“I’m sure she would be so happy knowing she won’t be going to daycare–” You clap, feeling a bit less awkward despite the boldness of the man in front of you. You’re sure he’s just teasing you for knowing you checked him out. “I know I am.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a little too perfect, actually.

After that first day of watching your child and making a lazy attempt at “fixing your fence,” he’s settled in like it’s home. He wishes it was, with the lavish lifestyle in a house far too pretty compared to his own living space with piles upon piles of laundry he’s too lazy to pick up for himself.

It’s different for you though. Different when he’s here.

Truly, he feels like he’s living the life after a couple of weeks with decent pay and a comfy space to do his homework. He watches your child, which is arguably the hardest part of the job but she’s well behaved for him. In fact, she seems to have taken a shine to him.

He’s starting to be very intentional with taking far too long to work on your fence too, and still maintaining your pool. He’s trying to drag this out for as long as he can. Even if just to see if you still look at him when you come home the same way you did before recognizing him. You never do though. When his shirt is off and he’s wiping his forehead in the sun, you don’t look at him anymore.

Hell, he’s even considered breaking things in your home just to give himself more jobs to do. More things that make him feel needed, like a husband. More things that you thank him for fixing, even if it breaks again two days later.

And ah, the food in your fridge is always free reign to him, that large television in the living room too. God, sometimes he dreads going home, and by sometimes, he means all the time. Who in their right mind would ever fucking want to live outside of this lifestyle? He really can’t believe you’re single, nor can he believe that he has the opportunity to be in your home, close to you. It shouldn’t take too long now to convince you, right? That you don’t necessarily have to be single? That you need him around to live even more comfortably?

In short, Haechan is in his head about how he’s practically just roleplaying as your stay-at-home husband before having to go back to his shitty little apartment and remind himself that he’s just a fucking college student with no interest in the people on campus. And like, even with the way you come home from work, all groggy and exhausted on the days he’s there, you always thank him before giving him his pay. What he likes best about those nights is when you’re too exhausted to even pay him and you promise to do it next time.

In his mind, that’s you promising to see him again.

He could give less of a shit about the pay at this point, as long as he gets to be in this house, smelling your favorite candles and dish detergents, seeing you, being a semi-father to a child who deserves more love than the two of you combined can give…he’ll fucking do anything you want for free.

It’s difficult sometimes, like he really can’t help it. Some days wandering around this house and imagining how the two of you could have landed on buying it together. How the rooms would be organized if he were here from the start. Claiming his spot on your couch like any dad would. Playing dolls with your daughter, laughing with her, letting her paint his nails and put his hair in little pigtails. He even cleans your pool as if it were his own, meaning, he genuinely cleans it.

He has taken it upon himself to mow your lawn, confusing the yard workers that you apparently hired years ago. Did he accidentally fire them? Maybe, but any good husband would save you money, right? He checks your mail, waves to your neighbors and lets them make assumptions.

And every single fucking night it’s harder and harder to go back home.

Especially after a full day of playing dad then seeing you come back so tired. Turning off that switch in his head isn’t easy. He wants to greet you like the husband you don’t have. He wants to ease your hard days in so many ways. Tell you he’s proud of you, that you still look so pretty after an exhausting shift of whatever the fuck you do. He wants to serve you dinner, run you a bath, fix your hair, lay you down– oh, he’s fantasizing again. Unfortunately, he has to settle with seeing the relief on your face when he lets you know in a soft voice that he’s cooked dinner and he will heat it up for you before leaving, kiddo is in her room sleeping, no dishes in the sink, and laundry is folded and put away.

He loves the appreciation in your eyes, and sometimes even sees a glint of sadness. He can tell you wish you had this from a person who isn’t here for pay. Someone who loves you, and loves your child, and feels joy in making your life easier.

Fuck, if only you knew.

And you’d be lying if you tried to say Haechan isn’t a godsend to you on the days he babysits. Many times you find yourself wishing he’d just move in and do everything that you can’t do. You’d pay him well, give him a guest room, whatever. But it’s just…not viable to support a full time employee like that, nor is it fair to your daughter.

She needs a parent, not a paid college student who needs some extra cash. You have to be that parent, you have to make time for her and witness all of her joys in life. You have to protect her and never bring in faces of men who claim to want to be a father, only to run and break her heart more than your own.

For now, you settle with this godsend of a little shit you used to babysit. Still you can barely believe that’s the same person, but again…time changes things. And thankfully, the awkwardness of what you did has died down drastically.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today, you’re more thankful for Haechan than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. For the first time in years, you’re giving yourself a night out, all because you have someone you can trust to be here for your daughter.

He was so understanding when you called, happy to come over right then and there to put her to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. “What? You need me there right now? I’m putting on my shoes.” He had said.

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit– he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are because it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body.

To be fair, he didn’t realize you were going out out. He thought that maybe you were gonna go stay with a friend to celebrate and have a drink or two.

In reality though, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. The way your tits look in that push-up bra and tiny ass top, when he’s used to seeing you head out in some sort of business casual outfit without an ounce of skin showing save for your ankles or wrists…jesus. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, hopping up on one leg when you walk away to try and adjust the chub in his pants, and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.”

Haechan shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you as if he didn’t just see the way your tits bounce and squish against your shirt with each move you make.

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there.

Just, look at you. Fuck, he’s staring again. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home, getting to plant his face right there. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that.

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, fixing and breaking that fucking dishwasher, cooking you dinner every single night he’s here just to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you imply you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed like that?

And you’re…

God, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice.

This is what you look like when you want to impress a man? This is how you act? How you talk? Fuck, god, fuck– maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone else to fuck.

“Thank you, Donghyuck,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips.

He’s never heard you speak his name so sensually, the way his cock twitches forces him to wince away from you. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fucking hell, somehow it feels worse seeing you act like this after how many times he’s imagined it, all alone in his room.

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, fat tits threatening to spill out, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club.

Probably some loser he’s seen on campus too.

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead.

Ah, lip gloss. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? Like he’s not about three seconds from dropping to his knees just to see you from the angle you deserve?!

“It’s no problem.” Haechan relents, dropping himself onto your couch instead and adjusting his body to sink deep into the cushions just to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now.

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

It’s really not something he can control after seeing you like that either. Your child is already in bed and he’s just sitting here on your couch with a throbbing, fucking weeping cock thinking about you. What’s stopping him from taking care of it? You’re not here, after all.

You’re not fucking here. But everything about you is.

And that’s how he finds himself in your bedroom for the first time, barely making it a foot into the room before closing the door and dropping to the floor. The scent in your room is different. It’s feminine, gentle, like the energy is kissing him all over and sending goosebumps straight to the head of his cock. He couldn’t even pull it out, already holding his breath with his hand down his pants, vigorously trying to get what he wants so badly yet knowing that his hand will never compare to you.

And it’s here where he feels like a husband. Spilling against his pants with a silent, choked back sob as he stares forward at your bed, and the way you didn’t make it this morning. It’s messy, and he wants to be in that mess of sheets with you more than anything.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Haechan hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend now. Every. Fucking. Weekend. You ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. There have even been a few times where you’ve exposed your ex husband during your rants, giving Haechan little hints to follow as to why you’re single, and how he left you.

Still, he knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this to not only him, but yourself. It’s mostly because you’re technically coming home to him though.

And every single time, you go back to your bedroom to grab his payment even though it could wait until morning, considering he’s been sleeping in the guest room– all he can think about is how he’s been in your room. He’s gotten off countless times by now by the smell of your room alone, still barely able to even reach your bed to lay in it himself for a better experience. God, he’s probably memorized each little fray in your carpeted bedroom floor by now with how much he’s zoned out on it mid-jerk off session right there on his knees at your door.

He’s truly pathetic for you.

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock again in your guest room before sleep, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in, smothered by the sheets you meticulously picked out to match the walls of the room. Moaning for you, practically crying for you to let him do it all.

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….He does everything for you, why the fuck don’t you see it?!

Click.

Haechan’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat.

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-scream of “Shit, fuck–”

Haechan looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out an alcohol scented sigh.

His nostrils flare as he holds his breath, feeling your tit press against his arm, smelling the drinks, the sweat, and the dulled perfume on you. Then, a hint of something else. Musk.

You’ve been with a man.

He holds back a gesture at the way you lean on him. Nothing more he could want at this moment but to hold you tightly and tell you that he’s got you, despite the panic in his stomach at the way he sniffs out another man. Out of lust, love, desperation, frustration. This is the closest you’ve been to him for this long. You feel clammy and cold, a clear indication that you drank far, far too much. Your tank top is sticking to you, your eyes are a bit glassy–

“You’re late.” He says shortly.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother.

You should’ve just gotten a hotel for the night and slept there to dream a little longer.

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?”

Haechan fixes his eyes on you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The way you’re slouching…seemingly forgetting that you’re wearing a skirt and basically flashing your panties at him. God, the things could do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. He tries to shake those thoughts for now, and instead, inspects you from head to toe.

He’s never seen you look so relaxed. Chest raising and falling with each breath, hair a little messy, lipstick stains smeared on the outsides of your lip line. He chooses to ignore the faint swell against your neck indicating someone has been sucking on you. But, well, he can’t ignore it. Both his cock and heart aches at the very thought.

“You’ve been kissing?” Haechan tries to ask nonchalantly.

“A lot more than that–” You smile, feeling a flush cross your cheeks before the disappointment hits you square in the gut.

Haechan watches your face fall, and he mimics it by falling onto the couch and sitting by your head…you know, allowing you to lay your head on him if you want to. You’d probably not notice his arousal anyway, given your state.

“Oh?” He asks gently, the disappointment now showing plainly on not just your face, but his own.

“Thought I was gonna go home with him, turns out he decided to be done after a blowjob in the parking lot.”

Oh, the way his blood boils. Not for the fact that you were used or rejected, but for the fact that you found someone that you were interested in and genuinely intended to leave your home life in his hands for however fucking long. Really? Just gonna leave him here all alone? Like he couldn’t do better for you?

“It’s for the better–” Haechan says as he shivers with irritation, struggling to keep his facade up. It’s definitely not what you wanted to hear, and definitely not what you’d have expected to hear from a college guy at all either.

“This happened last time too, except he didn’t even get me to the parking lot.” You huff, unaware of how much you’re sharing right now.

He bites back the anger yet again, inhaling deeply before releasing a calming breath through his nose just to contain it. So…it has happened more than once?

“Why don’t you let me take you out someday?” He says suddenly, well aware that you’ll probably never remember he said it in the first place.

If anything, he’s testing the waters for his own sake. He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t at least take advantage of this moment a little bit.

“Then who will watch my daughter?” You respond in slurred speech, not even comprehending who it is that’s asking you this question right now. Not even thinking about your history with him, or the family ties.

He, on the other hand, is quite entertained by the way you don’t bring the history up like he expected. His cock twitches at it, bumping your head just a bit, not enough for you to notice apparently. Fuck, it would be so easy for him to pull it out right now, and just…tap your lips with it.

Maybe you’d even open your mouth for him.

“I’ll skip class on a Wednesday, we can go while she’s still in daycare.” He continues through an almost-moan, encouraging the conversation to stay positive.

“Donghyuck–” You slur before clearing your throat and sitting back up in a dizzy show of how drunk you are. “You know I can’t do that. It’s too weird.”

In all fairness, you know he has like…a thing for you. After all, why else would a college dude be spending his weekends here babysitting your kid? It’s not like you haven’t noticed the way he checks you out before you go out for the night. Why would he do all of this if he didn’t have some sort of attraction to you? Sure, you’re taking advantage of it as best as you can despite how you didn’t recognize him at first.

Despite how deep down, you very well know how attracted to him you are too.

“Only because you make it weird.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he looks at you, spreading his legs out to adjust his comfort, noting the way you glance down to his lap and see it. “I’m a grown man–” He starts, spreading his legs wider, pressing his cock against his pants to the point you can practically see the outline.”you know this.” He continues, trying to be bold now by reaching forward and moving a strand of your hair from your cheek.

“You’ve seen it.”

You freeze, suddenly feeling entirely too sober to be talking about this kind of thing with him. With Donghyuck. God, his mother would fucking kill you if she found out he’s in your house while you’re out trying to get fucked by whoever is willing to love you temporarily.

Haechan sees you thinking though, and continues to take the advantage now that he’s feeling brave. Now that you’ve seen the twitch in his pants and haven’t moved off the couch, or told him to go home.

“I saw you watching me when I was cleaning your pool, multiple times.” He whispers snidely. “You stopped when you realized who I am. Why?”

“Donghyu–…” You trail off. “You know this isn’t okay. What would people think of me? There are rules, and I will not go down this route with you.”

A rush of air hits your face and suddenly, warmth hits your cheek. You feel him so close, closer than ever before. It’s dizzying. Haechan is over you, hovering with one hand ghosting over your hip.

“You want to though, don’t you?” He gets even closer now, darting his eyes down at your chest and unable to pull them away. “Knowing how good I am with your daughter? How well I clean up? How strong I can be–”

You swallow hard. For a moment, you almost lean into him. You almost melt right then and there, the need for intimacy so heavy inside of you after being left high and dry, knowing that you’d accept it from just about anyone at this point. But– this is Donghyuck. You can’t.

You really, really, can’t.

The look of disappointment in his eyes kind of hurts when you’re pushing him away. That playful smirk falling faster than you think your sanity did the day your ex husband left you.

“This–” You pause, realizing all too well how he’s used your drunken state against you for this conversation. “This is your last paycheck.”

“I don’t think so.” The smirk is back now, except…it’s different. “You know I promised her a Barbie dream house next weekend.” He smiles fully now. “She’s a bit attached, you know, even called me dad by accident the other day.”

You’re shocked.

“She…what?”

“You know she’s attached to me already, don’t be selfish.” Haechan shrugs at you while rolling his eyes, leaning against the couch again and turning his head to look at you. You try to pretend that you don’t see his hand slightly groping himself. “Guess she misses having a father around. Can’t be too easy for her, especially with her mom going out every weekend trying to fuck guys who would run the second they learn about her.” He ticks his tongue now, as if he’s pitying you more than your daughter.

“Donghyuck, that’s not–”

“That’s not, what?”

“That’s not what I’m doing…” You lower your voice to a near whisper, upset that you couldn’t even enjoy the drunken state you came home in, now feeling entirely too sober, and a little sick in the stomach.

“Oh, so you haven’t gotten laid since I’ve been here–” He leans closer again now, trying to resume what he was going to do just moments ago. “They haven’t even touched you, have they?” His hands move to your thigh and presses down as if to hold you in place. “Why?”

“I try not to just sleep with anyone.” You lie, knowing you’d sleep with anyone just to feel wanted for once. And you’re trying to ignore his hands on you right now, trying desperately not to like it. It’s the first time a man has touched you in this house since your husband left you. As expected, you almost feel your knees buckle despite sitting comfortably. “I have to be careful, you know?”

“Mm, I know more than you think.” He leans into you, hovering yet again with his upper half over you as he whispers it. “Don’t need to be careful around me though.” He adds, this time trailing his voice right against your jaw, up to your ear. “You must be so frustrated.” He ghosts his lips there for a moment, waiting for you to push him away, or say something, anything, really.

“Why would I be frustrated?” You lend the smallest of whispers, feeling the goosebumps against your skin rising at the mere thought of giving in just this once.

“Not having anyone to please you.” He adds now, landing a very slight kiss right under your lobe. “Always being used for someone else’s pleasure, maybe?”

You almost nod, feeling weak in your state and thoughts swimming with what if’s, morals, and anxieties. You’re frozen in place despite knowing a simple push would create the distance you need to breathe.

“Your fingers will never be enough, will they?” He continues, essentially chaining you to this couch with his words alone. You can’t help the fight in your head, you need to feel wanted, and you want so badly to feel needed. “I bet you wish someone would love you for all that you are, not all that you have.”

It’s silent as you feel his lips press down again, this time moving his body over you almost entirely. You can feel the couch dip a bit as he places all of his weight on a knee, moving his other leg to stand between yours.

“You must need someone to fill that hole in you by now, right? That pussy of yours?” He continues, his tone a bit more snide now as you give in to his hold with shaky breaths.

And truthfully, Haechan has never let himself come on this strong towards someone before. Usually the wives are doing this to him. They’re trying to convince him, encourage him. He’s so fucking horny right now though, with that daze in your eye, your legs spread around his knee, blinking up at him like a cheating wife. As if you want to apologize, as if you need him to forgive you. Need him to make everything better.

“I heard you the other day, you know, talking to your mom–” He smiles, tilting his head to look into your eyes, seeing a small shine in them. “You want another, don’t you?” He continues, moving his lips now just over yours as he, now, presses you firmly against the couch. “You must hate knowing that I’m the only person who can do that for you.”

“God, Haechan.” You immediately buckle, not realizing how suddenly he’s not Donghyuck at this moment. He’s someone else. He’s Haechan.

“Why don’t you go for girls on campus?! Don’t you have parties to be attending on the weekends instead of being here, trying to parent my chil–”

“Lower that voice of yours,” He whispers, eyes now hooded as he looks at you. “You know she’s asleep.”

God, he’s right.

“Besides, why would I want them when I have you right here under me–” He tilts his head. “Looking so disappointed that you like it, too.”

Right then, your moral code shines into the front of your mind at the consideration of giving in.

A weight on one shoulder chanting, “No! What would people say?! What would people think?!”, and then little to no weight on the other shoulder, echoing in a sweet song of “Finally! Someone who will love you! Finally! Someone! Finally!!! Finally!”

You pause, not knowing at all what to do. Your body wants to push him away, even your mind and soul wants you to push him away. But you know deep down, you’d only push him away to see if he will try again. No man has ever tried for you like this, and you need more of it.

To feel desired after so long of neglecting this side of yourself, it’s enough to make a person lose their footing in reality. To give in to just about anyone willing to look at you the way he is right now. It’s the fact that you go out to try and find it, and even with this alone, Haechan has satisfied you more than any stranger promising to make you cum.

“I…don’t know what to say–” You stutter. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do.” Haechan smiles, glancing at your lips before meeting your eye again. “Why not hand over the reins and relax for a–” His hand dips under your skirt, cupping your sensitive cunt in one hand alone. “Ah, I knew it.” Then, his other hand finds purchase on your chest, lifting your heavy breast in his hand with a blatant, hard squeeze.

After a sharp inhale you look away from him in shame, afraid to admit it despite the truth of it leaking through your panties and onto his palm.

“Wet.” He smiles, no longer looking at you but flicking his eyes back and forth from between your legs, and to your chest. Still, he fumbles around the wet spot, wanting so badly to lift these fingers to his mouth and taste. He’s fantasized about it, about how you’d taste, how warm it would be, what your pussy would feel like against his fingers–

And just as he’s pushing your panties to the side, pads of his fingers touching right where you need them with his eyes hooded and watching you closely, something snaps.

You push his hand away, only to feel him push back, holding you down with more force, gripping your tit tighter, sliding his fingers in before massaging the slit with a blatant moan on his lips. Then, you try again, shoving him back only to hear him chuckle and continue his antics until– you jump to your feet. It felt too good, too grounding to have him touching you like this. You nearly stumble back over the coffee table, but you manage to stand tall and firm despite the fact that even though your mind feels sober, your body is fucking wasted.

“Donghyuck.” You argue immediately, using his name the same way you did when he was a child. “Stop.”

He throws his hands up in defense, raising his brows in surprise.

“I–” He pauses, staring at you. “I thought you were enjoying it, my mistake.”

It’s the fact that you were. You were enjoying it too much, and there would have been no defending your actions if you had given in to the feeling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. That’s what you are.

Your ex husband was right all along. Out of everything you’ve accomplished since your heart was shattered, ripped to shreds, stomped on, you’d think it would take a lot more to break you.

“You ask for too much.” Your ex husband had said once. “You can’t even stand to be alone for one day.” He had said a year or so later. Small digs on who you are and what you need sprinkled into small arguments, only to come more and more from the lips that you kissed and promised to kiss until you die. Until all of his words were to make you feel inadequate. Until everything he said to you stuck with you, forcing your confidence to bury itself six feet under.

Are you to blame? As it stands, maybe. Why else would you be allowing yourself to consider it? Consider Donghyuck, you mean. Never in your life would you have considered him of all people to be the one that you need.

Never in your life would you have thought he’d be interested in a woman like you, in a situation like yours, with a child. Why did that night with him stick in your head more than every single mean thing your ex husband said to you? Why did his words seem more believable?

Because you were drunk at the time? Wet, neglected, and drunk?

Then why is it that you’re sitting here on your day off with your beautiful, bright-eyed daughter rummaging through your purse for whatever catches her eye….and you’re thinking about him? About what he's doing right now, how he’s feeling, if he’s eaten.

Why is it that you’ve gone the entire week ignoring his texts, asking if you need him to come resume his job as babysitter? Why the fuck do you want to accept after how he took advantage of your state of mind? After he came onto you and tried to manipulate you?

Despite all of his words ringing true in the back of your head. That was a dirty tactic he pulled on you. Yet, still…you want him back, and god fucking dammit you could cry knowing your daughter called him “dad.” You hadn’t believed him at first, but after this week alone it slipped from her mouth several times.

“He’s not your dad, baby, that’s just Donghyuck.” You remember correcting her more than once, and all she responded to you with was a confused expression.

“Why not?” Is what her little voice gave back to you after her child-like brain decided it was fed up with you correcting her very right assumption of the guy who promised her the Barbie Dream House.

Why not?

Well, if you could have an adult conversation with a five year old it would be much easier to answer that. Because he sprayed cheese in your hair. Because you were seventeen and his babysitter when he was twelve years old. Because you ogled him without recognizing him as your pool boy. Because of a lot of things.

“Uncle Donghyuck.” You finally corrected her again.

She shook her head, and continued doing and saying as her little mind pleased. It made you miss having a father around for her though. You think she needs it more than you do.

And that fucking Barbie Dream house is what brings Haechan back.

Right at your doorstep today, with a gentle knock to the door and a timid smile on his face. He doesn’t even look at you when you open the door, instead he crouches down in front of you with the big, flashy box. He ignores you, tilting himself to look past you and straight at your daughter.

You hold your breath when she runs to Haechan, arms spread open and laughter shrieking in your ears. Your heart aches so much at this moment.

Given your work schedule, you’d never gotten to see them interact much. He always came over as she was eating her breakfast, and you always came home after she was put to bed. You guess it’s fair that they have a bond now. She doesn’t even run at you like she does for Haechan. In fact, the only time she ever does is when she had a bad day at daycare or had a tummy ache.

She runs to you when she needs you, but she runs to Haechan like she wants to. Like she genuinely is attached to him, and his kind smile, and his eyes, and probably that warm embrace that you’ve never let yourself experience.

You watch them, not allowing yourself to melt at the moment because you did not invite him over, nor did you give consent to bring that fucking doll house here. But you can’t say no now, as she clings to his leg when he stands up and looks at you with an almost irritated glint in his eye.

His eyes trail all over you briefly too, as if checking for any new spots or marks that a man could have put on you. You feel seen, dipping your head to not meet his eye and scratching your neck as if to hide a spot there. There isn’t a mark, it’s just…fear? nervousness? anxiety?

And then he hauls the box in for her without saying a word to you. You watch him hard now that his back is turned. His voice sounds so loving when he speaks to your child as if she’s an equal. Plopping down on your living room floor with her and opening the large box.

He Ooo’s and Aahhh’s with her as he pulls each piece out, connecting the walls, the doors, handing her little things to help him with. And both of them are so focused on the task at hand to create a safe space for all of her abused barbie dolls that… you feel invisible.

For the first time ever in front of them both, you feel like you are nothing but a ghost. That he is the single parent. As if you’re forgotten, less loved, not wanted, not even needed.

There’s a bubbling in your gut when you tear up, reminding yourself that what Haechan did that night was probably just, well, he’s a man. Men aim to fuck at all times usually, and you guess you should have expected it at one point from him because, again, you’re aware that he’s attracted to you. Even more aware now.

But the way you feel right now outshines that. He’s ignoring you to keep your child happy. She is ignoring you because it seems Haechan does a better job at it than you do.

And, well, he’s not holding you down, whispering things in your ear, letting out frustrated little sighs at your drunken or drowsy words now. So, you say nothing. All you can do is go to the kitchen and prepare a snack, trying to force the tears to stay inside of you with quiet sniffles, hoping you can join their little picture perfect moment so that you can be helpful too.

Your heart swells when they both look at you as you present a plate of snacks. You have to hold back tears again at the way their eyes shine, thanking you for the snacks. Haechan’s eyes stay on you a bit longer though, as if saying “See? See what you’re making her go without?”

You do see it.

But…it can’t be him. As much as you wish it could be, you just can’t. There has to be another man out there just like him, one that doesn’t have a history with you that would cause whispers and questions. There has to be.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

That moment you witnessed seems to have solidified Haechan’s place in your home. Whether it be for babysitting or simply so your child can see him when she’s asking for him (which is often.) It’s kind of an issue, actually, because now the choice isn’t yours anymore and it appears Haechan knows that.

You hate that you’re forced to see him for what he is now. How he proves himself over and over again to be the man you need. The issue is that you still don’t want it to be him. The bigger issue is that he’s breaking down your walls, doing little things for you, looking at you with those dark eyes– your resolve cracks and reminds you every time he’s here that maybe it could work. Maybe you’ll give him a chance. Maybe you won’t have to go out anymore looking to fill a void that no one else fits into.

It’s the way that now, you can’t help but to compare him to your ex husband. The man who you loved for so long, who you genuinely thought you’d spend your life with happily and safely. Now, compared to Haechan, your ex seems like…nothing. Like a little crack in your resolve. He was older than you by just two years, took care of you for so long, impregnated you, and slowly but surely throughout all that time grew to resent you too.

You still don’t know why, but perhaps it’s just because you were growing into your own. You were becoming more independent, though he never had the capability to realize just how much you depended on him during the very time he left you.

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” Your ex had said to you on that fateful morning.

Your belly was big as you tried to waddle up to him when he said that. You can’t help but think back now and wonder how pathetic you must have seemed when he yanked his arm from your grip, especially due to the difficulty of your pregnancy already. You were sick through most of it, only having a few good days here or there where that pregnancy glow would make your ex husband second-guess himself.

The slam of the door after that was more exhausting than the months of pregnancy you’d gone through. It felt loud, so loud you could hear it vibrate throughout your whole body. You recall falling to the floor and carefully holding your stomach. It’s like all of the heartbreak pooled there. The loss of your husband three weeks before he got to meet the child he was supposed to love. Her little heart must have been breaking inside of you too.

Double the pain.

And then you were mending yourself on your own. Going into labor early from stress, your family helped take care of you more than her. You were needier. You were broken.

And never, fucking ever, did you think you’d find yourself sitting comfortable in your lavish home realizing that your ex-husband didn’t deserve all of that pain from you. He left you for that girl, and not two months later did she leave him.

Never did you think you’d find yourself thinking about Haechan as a replacement either. Well, not a replacement, but like, maybe just…he’s the idea of a perfect dad if you pay attention to how your child talks about him. How they act together. How she cries for him before bed when he’s not there, asking you why you don’t read to her the way Haechan does. Why don't you sing to her the way he does? Why don't you use the same voices for her dolls? Why you don’t cut her food like he does, why you don’t do this or that.

That’s what makes it click the most you think. The fact that Haechan has given her something you never can. The love of a father. It doesn’t even feel like he’s babysitting at this point, he’s parenting, teaching her lessons, bandaging small boo-boos, fixing her hair,…cooking dinner, cleaning…existing here like he belongs.

Haechan has done more for your daughter than your ex husband ever could have, more than you could have done for her too, you think.

Even now, as you come home night after night and see him, you struggle to see him as anyone that isn’t who your daughter needs. Maybe who you need.

His summer semester is coming to an end too, and it’s hard to see him as a college student now. He really does coursework and everything that needs to be done at your home all within a single work day? With no complaints at all? Lately, you’ve noticed that he’s been more focused on studying when he babysits too, but still your daughter listens to him better than she listens to you.

Yet, still, it’s like you’re avoiding each other as you go through the motions, but you notice him more. You feel more discomfort because of it, mostly because you know your resolve about this is breaking. There’s a fear inside of you that revolves around him.

What if you missed your chance?

What if it does end up being a mistake if he still wants you?

You don’t know what to do, but you know you want him.

Some nights, Haechan does sleep over due to exhaustion and you don’t even ask him to leave because you know he’s not doing it to try anything. The avoidance is loud. Lately, you come home from work and there he is, sitting up with his laptop on his lap but sound asleep, softly snoring. Each time, you remind yourself of how he’s sacrificing his study time to babysit. You know your child can be distracting and needy when she wants something too, but he doesn’t complain even a little bit. The least you could have done was bring him a blanket, which you did. And you woke the next morning to find him curled up on the same couch, laptop toppled over onto the floor.

Small, gentle acts of kindness towards each other but never face to face. You’ve woken to fresh coffee countless times, made exactly the way you like it because you know he’s watched you make it yourself. You’ve come home to re-stocked items, like milk and eggs, laundry detergent, and even toothpaste. It’s nice, and a small indication that he doesn’t resent you. Even through face-to-face avoidance on your part.

Tonight seemed different though, compared to all of the other nights when you can’t go out. You walked through the door to the smell of dinner and your child still awake, sing-songing at you the moment you walked in.

“Dad said I can stay up late!”

You quirk a brow, her calling him that now becoming a regular occurrence to the point it goes through one ear and out the other for you. You recall discussing her bed time though, with absolutely no exceptions.

“Did he now?” You hug her before taking off your cardigan, walking with her to the kitchen where you find Haechan, placing down a small plate on the table with cartoon characters on it, right in front of two bigger plates with bigger portions of delicious looking food placed neatly on it.

Your heart swells, but your anxiety grows twice as big alongside it. This.

This is what you’ve wanted for so long. This is what you never thought you could find. So, why is it that you still have push-back in your mind? Despite knowing that Haechan has proven himself time and time again, you want to argue?!

Perhaps it’s because you like the way he tries. Maybe you’re not ready to lose that feeling of being chased in some way, of being begged to let him stay. Maybe it’s because you begged your husband, desperate for him to keep you, but he left anyway. It feels like Haechan gives you power over yourself, over your love-life, over everything, really.

And if you were to actually accept his advances, even just a dinner on your table, what if he stops? What if he gets bored once he gets what he wants? After all, he’s still young, you can’t truly imagine he wants to do this forever.

Not with you, and not with your daughter either.

“What’s all this? Isn’t it a bit late for her to have dinner?” You question him instantly, anxiety bubbling up out of assumption alone.

“We had a small snack a few hours ago.” Haechan reassures you. “I finished my exams and had a burst of energy to celebrate, besides, it’s a Friday–” He goes to pull out a chair for you. “You don’t need to be up early either. A late dinner every now and then never hurt anybody.”

The way this is the first time the two of you have had a face-to-face conversation since…that night. His voice calms you, and that’s scary.

You huff, happy because you could easily melt into this chair and pretend you’re having a family dinner, like you always wanted, like you never rejected a touch from him that you desperately wanted. You could just play along and pretend Haechan is everything you need. Except, it wouldn’t even be pretending at this point. The whole idea of him has changed. But, again, that anxiety. You still have that little voice holding you back, no matter what you want, or what you need, you fear it’ll be ripped from you again if you were to let yourself be weak for another person.

“I’m really tired, Donghyuck.” You explain, walking past the kitchen and towards your bedroom. “Thanks for dinner but I’m not too hungry and I just want to lay down.”

And with that, he watches you leave. No real appreciation, no congratulations on him finishing his exams, not even a kiss to your child’s forehead. Is he still expected to be the one to put her to sleep?

Why is he even here? Why did he do all of this?

His patience is running dry.

So, he eats with your child as your plate goes cold and he leaves it there. If you can’t even handle a dinner at the table with the person who cooked it, you can deal with your own fucking plate. Throw away your own fucking food, wash your own fucking dish. And if you can’t tuck your child into bed, he’ll do it, but you can shove that fake ass exhaustion right up your ass for all he cares.

He knows you’re not exhausted. He’s seen you when you are. You’re just being an asshole to him at this point, trying to appear like you’re perfectly happy with the life you live when your drunken rants prove otherwise. You treat him like everything he does has an ulterior motive. Which, yeah, maybe it does, but he was genuinely excited to have someone celebrate the end of this semester with him. Maybe assuming you’d indulge him went too far. For the first time, he wasn’t doing it to impress you.

By the time Haechan gets your daughter to bed, all tucked in with a little tune to fall asleep to, he closes her door and just stands there in the silence on the other side of it.

You must really enjoy being a single mother, huh? This is why too. He always questioned it. You’re so attractive, so well-adjusted. You work hard, your daughter is a sunshine in this world, and you’ve not managed to find anyone to love you yet? He thought he was lucky to be the one getting to spend time with you.

Turns out, you refuse to let anyone in despite Haechan knowing, fucking seeing straight through you. You want something from someone. You need it, yearn for it, even. But it’s almost laughable at the way you refuse it.

Excuses, excuses, excuses.

It’s the fucking audacity you have taking advantage of him. You’ve practically led him on. You lend him everything he wants in life. That’s it. You lend it. From flaunting yourself before you go to bars, to exposing all the marks you allow other men to leave on you. Letting him stay in this house, father your child, cook, clean, mend, fix, heal.

From being a faux-father to being minimized to a college student that you used to babysit. He’s offered you relief in so many ways including sexual, and all you fucking do is avoid, deny, fucking reject him. You still go out to bars, later and later you’ll come home with new swells against your skin, but always looking so empty and disappointed. Sometimes he thinks you try to make him jealous. Sometimes, he thinks you want him to try again.

Sometimes, he thinks you get off on the fact that he keeps trying.

And he has tried. Albeit more gently lately, but he has. Small, lingering touches when he hands you your coat to help you get out the door and to work quicker. Starting your car for you before you leave. Fuck, he even opens the goddamn door for you. Anything to make you feel appreciated, respected, and fucking wanted.

The silence is loud in his ears due to the sheer irritation as he drops his head, staring at his feet and knowing it’ll only take a few strides to reach your bedroom. A room he still craves to be in.

He’s raided those drawers by now, because of course he has. Soiling your panties, your sheets, anything that still smells like you when you’re gone for the day, all so he can act normal upon seeing you when you come home. He’s laid in your bed by now too, wondering what it would feel like to have your weight beside him. He fantasized about anything and everything he possibly could in there.

And he’s always warmer. Always cums the hardest with weak, muffled moans as he stuffs your pillows into his mouth to keep quiet. All before cleaning every trace of himself there, closing the door, and wishing he was allowed to exist in there with you.

Right now will be the first time Haechan enters your room to your knowledge, and it sucks for him because he has essentially trained himself to get hard every time he opens this fucking door. Still, he composes himself, and it’s a bit of a shock if you’re being honest. You thought he’d go home after this, you were kind of hoping he would after you made it so awkward.

You felt guilty the second you saw his expression fall to your rejection of eating dinner like a big fucking happy family. You want it so bad, you want him so bad.

When you left the kitchen, you immediately went to your room and hopped in the shower, well aware that he wouldn’t follow you. You thought hard while the hot water made attempts to wash away your feelings. Would it have been so bad to just eat with him? With your daughter? With both of them? The way his eyes fell, it burned your heart a little bit.

Still, no answers came to you because you know part of you just wants to see what else he will do for you. Despite the history with him, and despite knowing his entire family would question and scoff at you for it…Is it really so wrong? To want to give him a chance just to see if he’ll leave you too?

Just to see if it’ll hurt when he does it too?

Inviting him to your home almost every day of the week isn’t wrong, right? Forgetting to pay him all those times before, hoping to see him again and get that confidence boost, that wasn’t wrong. Letting your daughter attach herself to him when you swore he wasn’t permanent, no longer having the energy to correct her use of “dad” towards him… none of that is wrong.

It’s all Haechan. He’s the one in the wrong for willingly following along, not you. Right?

And as you’re sitting on your bed in your towel, zoning out and staring at your floor, Haechan swings your bedroom door open without a single knock, mindfully closes it, and immediately goes off on you.

Somehow, you really expected him to accept your rejection but your heart swells that he didn’t. You don’t think he ever will, and you’re exhausting yourself hoping he’ll prove you wrong.

He’s shown you enough by now. This is what breaks down that wall inside of you, isn’t it?

“What am I doing wrong?” He shoots his first question out in a desperate whisper shout, eyes searing into you before continuing without a single breath. “Because I do everything for her, and i do everything for you, does that really make you so fucking uncomfortable?”

“D–” You try to respond, feeling your skin prickle at the sheer irritation in his expression.

He’s fighting for you.

“Isn’t that what you want?!”

“After everything I do–” He throws his hands up now, running his fingers through his hair as if you make him feel like he wants to rip it out. “After trying to make your life easy while making mine harder, for what? You to not eat the fucking food I made? For you to go to the bar all the time just to come back disappointed like I’m not right here waiting for you to come back?”

“What ar-”

“Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions, Just answer me.” He drops his hands, stepping up to you, placing both hands on either side of your hips, doing his best not to react to your near-naked body. “Why?”

You lean back, trying to create more distance to try and give him an answer that you don’t even know yourself, but he just keeps closing in. Not letting you escape this time. You’ve never seen him so riled up before, it’s…

Well…

“Because I came onto you? Because I tried to do what no one else will do for you?” His voice shakes when he says it, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Is he…about to cry?

Only now, seeing him so close with an entirely sober brain do you realize an answer. Maybe not to his question of why, but to the same question you’ve been asking yourself. It’s because of that look in his eye. You’ve never been able to put a word to it, but now with him demanding you explain yourself so closely, you see it.

He’s desperate.

Arguably as desperate as you’ve felt to fill the void. Except, he’s trying to do that for you and you won’t let him out of what? Fucking fear? Hell, at this point the history means close to nothing when it comes to all the new memories he’s made in this home, even without you. The history of babysitting him, the history of your ex husband leaving you. It doesn’t matter.

You think hard, so hard that you feel your eyes burn as you stare up at him. Glancing without intention to his jaw when he clenches it, to his neck when he swallows his words, to his lips, his eyes, the hair falling in his face…and you just–

You reach up, running a soothing hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Then you see those same desperate eyes somehow grow more desperate as he lowers them, leaning into the touch, as if you’ve been starving him the same way you’ve been starved for years. He falls silent too, cutting himself off mid-question just to feel you touch him for the first time.

“I don’t know.” You say, which seems like a better answer than having an excuse. What can you say otherwise? That it’s because it shouldn’t be him? That you’re afraid he’ll realize he’s not ready to settle? To be a dad? He’ll ask why, and it’ll be the same answer you gave on that drunken night. An answer that you no longer care about.

You babysat him when he was a child, but you were still a child too.

You were still a child, and time changes things.

Your ex husband left you, and you’re afraid he will too, especially because he’s so much younger? Who cares?

Your answer seems to fly right past his head though, because he’s still leaning to feel your fingers in his hair, and he’s looking at you as if nothing you say will matter unless you make it hold some weight to him.

“Donghyuck–” You pause, scratching right at his nape, uncaring of how you can feel your towel loosening on your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Somehow, his name on your lips is what he needed to hear. The tone of it, the rasp in your voice, your fingers in his hair. Actions speak louder than anything the two of you could say right now, and he can’t help it. Nothing can stop him, not even you at this point.

He hasn’t done anything wrong you say? It’s because he fucking knows what you need.

You inhale deeply, holding your breath when you feel your back hit your mattress, his warm hands instantly taking advantage of your freshly-showered state and tugging at the towel just slightly to let it fall open. You hear a slight breath from him at that moment, an inhale. There, he climbs onto the bed, nudging himself between your legs and trapping you there under him, both hands holding your arms down.

Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him again.

“You’re going to let me take care of you now.” He demands, though to him it sounds more like a plea solely due to the fact that he’s so fucking turned on it’s unreal. That feeling of when your fingers were in his hair? Seeing your naked body? Unshaved pussy? Being in this fucking room with you? It throws him into overdrive, especially with the way you just lay there blinking up at him in surprise. The anger melting away only amplifies it more.

How could you do this to him? Genuinely, how could you have let him fucking suffer for you like this?

Still, you blink up as if you’re a deer caught in headlights and it makes his heart thump against his ribcage. Your eyes are so bright, that glint of sadness he had seen so many times isn’t there right now. And there’s so much adrenaline inside of him, like he needs to move fast before you change your mind again. You’ve not let him do this for some fucking reason or another and now you’re just laying here for him.

There, with your entire body on display, and you appear to be docile. Fucking obedient? Like he always knew you would be if you’d just drop the fucking act?! You were meant for him and him alone, and he’s going to show you why.

In all honesty, you’re tired of denying yourself by now. From the moment you saw him that day cleaning your pool for the first time, you’ve wanted him on some level. It wasn’t an emotional attachment, but a hope, a fantasy for you. And when you recognized him, you were more impressed with him than embarrassed. You tried not to let your eyes wander out of guilt, out of feeling like a pervert.

And then, that day when he came onto you, he was just a man to you. Your faux guilt kept you from letting him, and your hope to be chased kept you from it too. As if you’ve never pleasured yourself to the thought of him, shamefully in this very bed. As if you’ve never called out his name with a silent breath. If you keep going at this point, you’ll lose him before ever knowing what he could really be for you.

This is his last ditch effort to beat you at your own game, and you’re ready to lose.

So, now, you let yourself get lost in him. In his eyes and the way he pleads and makes his demands. He probably doesn’t recognize his strength against you right now, or how much it’s turning you on. With the way he has both hands on your wrists, probably bruising them, and there’s nothing you could do even if you wanted to. His weight holding you down feels better than you imagined.

After so long, with so many failed hookups where you’ve told them of your daughter and all they’ve done in return is get their orgasm then leave…Haechan. He wants to take care of you?

He wants to…give you what you need?

Fuck, you know he can. That’s the fucked up part. He’s proved it so many times to you in so many ways. You’ve watched him, the way he moves and acts around you. He’s exactly what you need.You pushed him to this point, where his sanity is on the brink of crashing. Taking it away from him again feels wrong, because it’s exactly what you want.

And when he presses his leg between yours, he knows.

“Again?” He comments, now releasing your wrist from one hand and running it down, able to slip his fingers right into the slick of your bare pussy. “You’re wet.”

You still just blink up at him with an intake of breath at the pleasure, thoughts running left and right on what to do, finally realizing you don’t want to do a damn thing. He’d do it all if you let him. Clean your house, be a father, fix all of the breaks, make you wet.

And you just feel him, the way his fingers play around with what he does to you. You can practically feel his confidence rise at the way you spread your legs a bit more, as if to give him more access. When you look at him, his expression remains harsh, but slowly he moves himself down, lips brushing over one of your nipples while keeping eye contact.

Still that irritated look, like he’s mad you haven’t let him do this before now.

“How many times are you going to pretend like I’m not the one who gets you wet?” He asks before rubbing circles around your clit, tongue flicking in the same way around your nipple. “Like I don’t have a right to take care of you?”

Your breath is still caught in your throat, trying to be careful about what you say right now despite knowing you can’t speak. You focus on what he’s doing instead, losing yourself to something you’ve not felt in far, far too long.

He’s right. He’s gotten you wet more than once by now. More than he knows.

And goddamn, he knew your tits could bounce, but the way they move without the support of a bra, the plush, soft feeling of your nipple growing erect in his mouth, all for him to bite and pull at. He does it too, listening to the little seething sound of pain from you when he pulls all the way back with your nipple between his teeth. Only to let it fall from his mouth and break eye contact with you to see the jiggle as it falls.

His cock twitches, at everything that you are right now, feeling more pleasure through seeing you like this alone compared to fucking his own fist on your bedroom floor. He notes how your legs squeeze him more at the nipple stimulation than his fingers too, memorizing the way your labia falls open between them. He smirks, flicking his tongue more, quicker.

There. There it is.

A low rumble in your chest falls from your lips. Soft, a moan. A very small, delicate sound.

“You like this?” Haechan asks, looking up at you, letting his tongue fall from his mouth again and flicking the erect nub. “When I play with your tits?”

You nod, throwing an arm over your face in embarrassment that this is actually happening. You’re letting him. Already you feel yourself heat up more, even when he takes his fingers away from your clit and instead, uses them to flick your other nipple.

And he does this for a few minutes. Paying special attention to your tits, going back and forth with his fingers and tongue to each bud, trying so hard to not stop just to shove his cock between them and use them the way he’s always wanted. He focuses on drawing out more and more little sounds from you instead, slurping his own saliva from your painfully erect nipples, pulling back, blowing cold air, then warming it up again with his lips. All while simultaneously groping, flicking, and pinching with his other hand.

“Jesus, Haechan–” You moan quietly, chest rising and falling as he squeezes and licks against you.

That’s right, say his name. Let him fucking know he’s doing what you like. Haechan thinks, feeling his cock weep in his pants as he does it. Wondering just how sensitive you are to be reacting like this to simple nipple stimulation. God, he’s wanted to suck on these for so long, and now you’re letting him. They’re so big, so plush. He wants to fucking cover them with his mouth, he wants to bury his face in them, kiss them all over them.

And if they were to get bigger? He moans at the thought, remembering that conversation you had with your mom. You want another. He bets they’d swell up–Oh, fuck yeah. They’d probably hurt to rub against your shirt. God, fuck, he can’t control his thoughts right now.

Finally.

Fucking finally, he has you and he’s not going to let you run away again.

He doesn’t fucking care if it’s forward. He wants what he wants, you want what you want. That want just so happens to line up. Besides, he’s already proved himself to you, he knows it. If you’re letting him do this, maybe you’d let him stay like this.

“Did they get bigger?” He moans briefly as he swaps to your other nipple again. “So full, so heavy, were they leaking all over you?”

You listen to him, trying not to feel the pit in your stomach bubble with even more arousal at his blatant and dirty words, feeling your clit throb at the stimulation your tits are getting right now.

“Makes my dick fucking throb just thinking about it. Fuck–”

“Let me give you another,” He mumbles now, almost mindlessly before looking up at you with an intense gaze as he bites down, indicating that he’s not mindless about it at all.

“Swell you up, make you glow–”

Oh.

Why is that– why are you dripping?

He hears that moan you let out. Different from the others, almost desperate.

“Mm, yeah.” He encourages it, now allowing his hand to travel back down to witness how much wetter you’ve gotten at those words. So messy, so perfect. “Knew you’d want it raw.”

You can’t help the nod, as it comes before you even process his words solely because you feel his fingers slip inside of you. You haven’t been this wet in so, so long. You want to feel it. To be full again, of anything. Of him.

“Ye-” You start, interrupting yourself with a bite of your lip and your eyes rolling back.

“That’s right mama,” He coos, tilting his fingers up and amplifying the pressure inside of you. “Gonna let me take good care of this pussy, yeah?” He adds, lifting from your tits and ghosting his lips over yours.

He watches you closely, that daze in your eye. God, you look so horny right now. There’s nothing more he wants than to see this time and time again. To let you wake up every morning with his warm cum inside of you, to see your belly swell with his child, to see your tits grow until they hurt.

He’d take care of you. He’d take good fucking care of you.

“Say something.” Haechan whispers against your lips, darting his tongue out against your lips, angling his fingers up and making you moan. “Say you want me to give it to you raw.”

You open your mouth, feeling his tongue lick and swallow up that moan you just gave him before you try to compose yourself. You can’t help it, you’re so, so sensitive right now and you can’t help but find it incredibly sexy to be here, laid bare, while he’s still fully clothed.

Like he really is doing this for you. He’s not trying to get his own orgasm and leave. You’re weak and those words of “let me give you another” shines in your head. Weak, you’re weak. You should be thinking about condoms, you should be thinking about the consequences of this.

But you’re not.

You do like it raw.

“Haechan–” You stutter as you try to grasp the reality of his words, feeling his fingers repeatedly hit right where you need it. “I’m…not protected.”

He moans. Loudly, before huffing out an irritated groan.

“You must really want it then.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Going out all the time trying to get fucked–”

He plunges his fingers in again, deep, and holds them there as he pulls back to look at you. To really look at you, then he glares.

“You’d really let just some fucking dude give you a baby?”

You repeatedly shake your head.

“No!” You retort, thrusting your hips up. “I just–”

“Mhm,” He pulls his fingers out now, sliding himself down so fast that you can barely comprehend him sucking your clit into his mouth before pulling back in a moan at the taste of you. “If mama wants another, daddy will give her one.” He says now, as if to pacify you.

As if to give you everything.

And you’d argue, really, you would. You want another child so bad, but this is– it’s too soon. You haven’t even established a relationship with him yet. Boundaries haven’t been discussed. His college plan– but fuck it’s not entirely your fault that you’re like, super turned on by the idea of it. To the thought of being so filled with cum that there’s no possible way you couldn’t end up pregnant. An indication that, no matter what, no man at a club could fulfill the arousal for you even if they cared to do it.

You’d never have let them actually fuck you raw.

Haechan though…how can you keep telling him no?

How could you reject him again when you want it so badly?

Fuck now, think later.

“Yeah–” You say against your better judgement, hands reaching down to his hair so you can grind up against his mouth, lost to the arousal as you mimic what he referred to himself as. “Daddy?”

You feel his mouth fall slack at that, as if you’re accepting him in full now. You feel your clit hit nothing in his open mouth, but it throbs harder.

He knew you were slightly into him for letting him do this at all, but now, you’re truly accepting it. Like you know he’ll fucking do it, like you want him to fucking do it.

“That’s right,” He moans against your clit as he licks at it, barely able to comprehend your voice calling him that but clinging to it all the same. “Gonna let daddy do it all for you.”

Yeah. You are. You’re gonna let him do it. All of it.

And then, the room is enveloped in quiet moans, more from Haechan than from you due to your breath being stuck in your throat. His tongue, licking every part of your sensitive cunt, his hands reaching back up to your tits, fondling, pinching, painfully tugging at them as he moans louder, louder, louder for you to want him.

He presses his hips up and against your mattress as he tastes you, so deeply it hurts his cock to neglect it like this. Each rub feels raw, twitching and pulsing to be let out, to be inside of you, on you, against you. Filling you up with his cum, plugging it in as a promise that you can’t leave him even if you wanted to.

He’s going to fucking do exactly what he said he would.

And only when you feel his tongue lap against your hole do you finally release your breath, “Daddy” coming out in a choked back sob. It breaks him, his body going into overdrive as he pulls back and just– stares at you with wild eyes.

You stare back up at him, knowing that calling him that means something more than a cringe little roleplay kink. It means something deeper to him. He wants to be a dad, a real one.

“Oh yeah?” He finally says, hands going straight to his button and zipper.

You can’t help it, biting your lower lip as you blink up, watching his shoulders move, the veins on his arms protruding as he rushes to pull it out and– oh. You moan at it, the way his heavy, slicked up, cock falls out, dark, needy.

“Daddy–” You urge him on, knowing that it’s driving him absolutely insane.

“Mhm?” He shuffles himself off the bed, letting his pants drop as he lifts his shirt off of him and fucking glares at your tits. “You want daddy’s cock?” He adds now, shooting his eyes up to you as both of his hands land on your legs.

Your mind goes blank when you feel him slide his hands around to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward, curling you in on yourself, forcing your pussy to be out and on display for him.

And you watch him, the way he stares down at it. It’s embarrassing to be so seen right now, not having expected to get fucked open by anyone tonight, let alone him. You probably should have shaved or something, or like, not gotten out of the habit in the first place. But he moans at it, mouth falling open at the fact that you are entirely a fucking woman.

A fucking mother.

The prettiest pussy he’s ever fucking seen let alone tasted.

And he moans, breaking the silence, forgetting only for a moment how long he’s been wanting this. It boosts your confidence more than you’ve ever felt. His reaction to this is more than your ex husband’s reaction to you when you were pristine and borderline pornstar quality.

Haechan doesn’t see you as used and neglected, he just sees you. And this. This is the pussy he wants. This is what he wants to put his baby in.

When he flicks his eyes back to you, with that same open mouthed expression, it knocks the breath out of you. There’s so much love in his eyes, or maybe lust, you don’t care. You think you’re matching that expression for him too, because it’s like he can’t hold back anymore. He can’t just sit and look at you anymore.

He just can’t.

And you feel it, his thick head pushing past the tightened, pulsing hole and not stopping. He pushes in slowly, painfully slow, to the point you’re both looking at each other with a slack jaw. Finally. The pain of it, the pleasure, the fucking need you’ve been trying to fulfill.

That look on your face drives him wild too, he knows he has you by now. You like it, you love the way he slides in and makes damn sure you feel it. Every second of the slide pries you open, and he wants to remember this moment forever. He wants you to fucking remember too.

Wants you to know that no one will ever fit inside of you so perfectly, so deeply.

When he finally bottoms out, he leans forward to keep himself buried deep as he ghosts his lips over yours. He feels the way you try to kiss him, but he pulls back with a confident smirk.

“When was the last time you’ve felt a cock so deep in you?” He whispers hotly, knowing you need not answer. Knowing you won’t answer, not with the way you’re instantly lifting your head and kissing him.

Your pussy pulses around him when you lick into his mouth, the first real kiss sending his heart soaring. He twitches inside of you with each squeeze, and kisses you harder, deeper. And somehow, it brings tears to your eyes.

The way he kisses, the way he makes you feel him. Fuck, the way he makes you feel whole, so wanted, like you’re amazing to him. In more ways than just a body to fuck, but he’s stuck around despite all of your avoidance and rejections. You hope you’re making it worth it.

Fuck, you need to feel worth it to him.

“You’d better not fucking pull out.” You groan through a breath, his lips still kissing you through your words as he finally pulls his hips back, fucking in once.

Hard.

Honestly, could you have said anything else at this moment? He’s trying to make this last, he needs it to last. If you keep fucking talking, saying everything he’s ever wanted to hear–

“Fuck,” He moans, his hands moving up to your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. “You can’t–” He continues, fucking in again, moving your body up with each thrust do to the sheer force of him trying to plunge in as deep as he can. “You can’t fucking say that to me right now.”

You’re seeing stars though, unable to say anything else as your eyes roll back at the way the head of his cock practically kisses your cervix with each push into you. He’s so rough, so desperate for it.

You don’t think he expected you to respond either, with the way he keeps his lips on yours, his body pressed so closely that having your legs to your chest means nothing to him now. Mating press be damned, he’s lost his mind to the feeling, not the aesthetic of being a fucking dad.

Your legs wrap around him instead, and he’s all too happy to feel it. Your legs hug him the same way your arms do, the same way your pussy does, and he’s fucking in love with you.

He braces one hand back against your leg, holding it against his hips as he continues to fuck forward, still at the same pace. Deep and with purpose. Every few seconds the bursts of pleasure run through him, making him shiver and moan into your mouth. Little grunts, near whimpers for you to let him give you the world.

More than this. More than fucking, more than taking care of you, more than anything he could ever possibly give you. He’ll find a way.

And then, you’re clenching hard, matching his near-whimpers except moaning in full pants, babbling and drooling cries against his mouth.

“Mama–” Haechan soothes, continuing his pace as he tilts his head back to get a good look at that lost gaze in your eyes. “You’re crying?”

You nod with a laugh, tears rolling down the same way the wet of your cunt slips down your ass. You’ve never felt so good, so fucking full. And for some reason, that does him in. Making it last be damned, he genuinely thinks he’s won you over. He can make it last next time, he can do more next time, he can–

He leans back all the way now, onto his knees as your legs try to hug him back to you, and his eyes go straight back to those tits. The way he made a promise. The way they bounce, slick with his sweat from pressing against you.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He grunts in a breath, now quickening his pace and snapping his hips. Pulling out all the way briefly to plunge into your again. “Can’t get any deeper–” He continues, flicking his eyes from your face, to your tits, to that beautiful pussy of yours swallowing him up.

Now his eyes roll back, hands going back to your thighs to push you back into position. No way in hell can he last, not at a pace like this, inside of a woman like you.

“Don’t pull out.” You repeat again in a breath, seeing his face and the way he focuses solely on you. You know he’s going to cum, and you want him to. You want to feel it, every single fucking drop of it.

“Yeah?” He nods his head with laser-focus on your pussy now, staring down as he points tight, short thrusts inside of you. “Momma wants my cum? Hm?”

Oh, he’s fucking gone.

“She likes it?” He continues to talk himself up. “Likes being so fucking full of it? Yeah?”

Goddamn, fuck, he’s insane.

“Yes, daddy–” You whisper-shout, fingers shooting to your clit, other hand raising to your mouth to silence the moans as to not be too loud.

“Fuck, yeah you do.” He lets out a near growl, his voice low and rumbled as he slaps your hand away, pressing hard on your clit with his thumb as he buries himself in you once more and stiffening his abs. “That’s right.”

And instantly upon feeling him pulse, that first spurt of cum painting your insides, you lose yourself with him. Your fingers drop from your mouth and you release a pornographic moan for him, rutting yourself against him, as if to fuck it deeper into you.

It only prolongs the orgasm though, for both of you.

Haechan is silent, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure as you pulse and squirt around him, his thumb pressing so hard into your clit, his cock cumming so deep, filling you up so well– He wants to see it. Wants to watch you fall apart for him. Wants to witness the way you let him do this.

And he holds himself there, so hard and so full of pleasure for you. Keeping himself practically impaled against your cervix until your body falls slack. Still, he fucks it into you, holding you in place with a softer moan now. No longer guttural or deep from his chest. His breathing is rough, a soft, near feminine moan leaves his lips as he falls forward onto you.

You wince along with him at the sensitivity, panting, a sweating tangle of a mess the two of you have become. And it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever gotten off at the same time as someone else. You feel…soft.

Your hands find their way to his hair as his face squished against your tits while he regains breath, not daring to move his hips because your pussy is too warm to leave right now. You brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, running your fingers all the way back to his nap, and then slowly down his back to rub and scratch.

He shivers at the feeling, humming the same feminine-tone he had released previously. And all he can do is hear your heart thumping against your chest, even through these soft tits of a pillow he’s lying against.

Haechan never wants to move again, not from this spot, ever.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Haechan mentions briefly after a long moment of silence, looking up at you with his wet hair.

Deep in the night, your food still cold and on the table, you’ve found yourself freshly showered and on your living room couch with Haechan’s head on your lap. He made sure to have stayed long enough inside of you to implant…something if it was going to happen. So he didn’t argue a shower, and you didn’t argue letting him join you either.

He had washed you, gently running his hands between your legs with what you can only describe as the softest, most alluring face a man has ever given you. Like he won the lottery, or found the answer to eternal life or something. You repaid him by letting him admire your tits again while you jerked him off, but that’s besides the point.

“Like, I’m not going to leave. I hope you know that.” He adds with a soft groan to your hands still in his hair. His new favorite thing.

You look down at him, hand moving to his cheek as the words hit you in the chest.

There’s anxiety along with happiness, at all of the boundaries and serious conversations that will need to be had now, but still, you feel like you’re glowing when he looks at you.

He didn’t even have to say it, and arguably you probably don’t need to say it back either. You think he sees it in you. Even if he didn’t, you think he’d take anything you give to him and cling to it. After all, it only took one time for you to break entirely for him.

“Are you now?” You smile with a chuckle, looking back to the tv and pretending to watch it. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d be making you go get a plan B or something.”

His eyes narrow at you.

“Like hell I’d let you, even if I didn’t love you.” He groans. “But I do, so don’t ever say that shit again.”

You chuckle, feeling the calm in your home that once felt so chaotic. It’s quiet now, both inside and outside of your head.

“Congratulations, by the way.”

He looks at you with question, quirking a brow.

“For finishing your finals, I mean.” You smile, going back to petting through his hair and feeling like you’re on top of the world, despite what you assume to become half of your world lying his head on top of you.

“Oh, right.” He smiles, now turning his head to watch the tv. “I probably failed them.”

You don’t believe that, but even if he did, you think you could be what he needs too. He wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t want to.

If he’s really in love with you, all he’d have to do is…not leave.

“Are you sure you want to be having these conversations with me? You can just call it a hook-up.” You finally say, hoping he means it, knowing it breaks your heart a bit to give him an out. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to trap you here just because I’m a little smitten too.”

Haechan glares, blinking up at you.

“I literally just tried to put a baby in you.”

That’s fair.

“And you’re not going to run off? Get cold feet?”

“Can you stop doubting me and just let me do what I want for once?” He argues playfully. “Do you even know how much that barbie fucking dream house costed me? I couldn’t run even if, for some stupid ass reason, wanted to. I love her too.”

Silence for a moment.

“Maybe even more than I love you.”

You really, really, want to believe him.

So, you do.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #lee haechan smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct x reader

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street-smarts00 · 3 days ago

Text

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa.

WC: 1.8k

Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)

Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present.

This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer.

What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true.

You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present.

You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas.

While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game.

“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked.

He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully.

“Are you at least winning?”

He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.”

That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift.

Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work.

Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts.

“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ.

JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief.

“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her.

JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition.

He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you.

“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box.

Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely.

You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out.

“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile.

Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?

You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.

“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.

When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face.

Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold.

“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.

Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots.

“Did you paint this?” He asked.

You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.”

A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia.

“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless.

“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face.

“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick.

The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan.

The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you.

You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved.

Not that he had to know you loved him.

He didn’t know that. Right?

As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin.

You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky.

“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind.

You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.

“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained.

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.”

He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?”

You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”

“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”

His eyes widened. “Oh um-“

He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.

“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”

You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“

“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured.

“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift.

“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”

”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.

The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.

”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?”

While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles.

“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”

“But, that was three months ago.”

He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”

Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief.

“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.”

You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.”

His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.

He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.”

Your heart damn near stopped.

“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness.

“I’d love to,” you beamed.

His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?”

You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”

“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.”

God he was cute.

“That sounds great.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic

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punkshort · 2 days ago

Text

Evergreen | Chapter Five: Acceptance

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: It's almost Christmas, so you take the time to reflect on your accomplishments while enjoying the peaceful life you've created with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: language, soft!joel, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food and alcohol consumption, Christmas, so much fluff it hurts

WC: 5.1K

Series Masterlist

"Alright, try some of this."

Ellie set down her spiked hot chocolate on your kitchen counter and stood to take the spoon from your hand. She blew on the soup before sampling a small taste and vigorously nodding her head.

"That's fucking amazing, we should make that a regular item."

You grinned and tossed the spoon in your sink before maneuvering around her to reach the spice rack. Your new house was just a two-bedroom ranch and the small kitchen took some getting used to, but you finally made the rented space feel like home. Although when you and Ellie occasionally found yourselves crammed in your kitchen to test some new products for the food truck, you couldn't help but long for the beautiful kitchen you used to have.

"I think I'll add this and take off the turkey chili, it doesn't do too well," you said before turning to your fridge and scribbling something on the white board. It was close to Christmas and you had already introduced your cold-weather menu for the food truck, but you were always actively looking to make tweaks where it was needed.

"Sarah really likes the chili," Ellie reminded you.

"I'll make her a big batch and divide it up so she can freeze it when she goes back to school."

"Is she helping out on the truck tomorrow?" Ellie asked before picking her hot chocolate back up, then she wandered over to your living room to examine some ornaments on your tree.

"Yeah, she's helping all day. Joel's gonna get a kick out of seeing her on the truck for the first time," you laughed. You checked the time and turned off the burners before lifting the huge pot of soup with a grunt and setting it on an unused side of the stove to cool. Joel and Tommy's crew were working on a retail storefront and you had promised to stop by with the truck for lunch the following day. You had figured it was in a busy part of town and you were hoping to also capitalize on all the holiday shoppers.

Chicks 'n Chicken specialized in, well, chicken, as the name implied, but when the weather turned colder, you realized sandwiches just wouldn't cut it for the winter, so you began to add soups and stews to pair with your signature sandwiches like The Ellie, The Sarah, and The Joel. It was the first big idea you had when you finally took the plunge and started a food truck: every sandwich was named after someone important to you, including sandwiches named after Mia and Daniel.

At first, it was hard. Really fucking hard. Harder than you expected. There was so much to do behind the scenes: bookkeeping, inspections, keeping the truck and your machines up to code just to name a few. Joel was a huge help with the business side of things and you were eternally grateful for his insight. In return, you let him be your taste-tester, a job he adored and took very seriously.

Once you got the boring stuff out of the way, things got much better. You hired Ellie to assist you, and even her girlfriend Dina worked part-time. The two of them painted the truck these gorgeous, vibrant colors and helped you design the menu, and before you knew it, you were up and running.

The first couple weeks were slow and steady. You didn't expect to make much right off the bat, but you would have been lying if you said you weren't slightly disappointed you didn't do more business.

But then Sarah and Ellie came to the rescue, and your entire world changed.

They had clued you in to the latest social media app and helped you create an account. They must have been avid users because they always knew what was trending, which is how you managed to create a video that went viral overnight. It was the three of you doing some silly dance to a song you had never heard before inside the truck. When you watched it, you cringed and begged them to delete it, but they promised it would be a hit. And boy, were they right.

Just a few months later, you were closing in on one million followers. The girls kept your page fresh and relevant and if you were a lesser person, you might have been a little put out that your marketing degree essentially became useless when competing with two girls in their twenties who were apparently chronically online.

But you absolutely loved it. You were beyond thrilled you had been so unexpectedly successful so quickly. It was the best gift you could ever have received, and you told them so every time they pestered you for Christmas gift ideas.

"Your parents coming up for Christmas?" Ellie asked when she spotted a framed picture you had of them next to your couch.

"Uh... my mom is, yeah," you said, dusting your hands on the sides of your jeans as you moved around your kitchen. Ellie picked up on the tone in your voice and swiveled around.

"But not your dad?"

You shook your head and pulled out the biggest Tupperware containers you could find.

"No. He's not thrilled with some of the choices I've made," you told her, keeping your gaze focused on your work so she wouldn't see the hurt in your eyes.

"The food truck or Joel?"

You cleared your throat and shrugged. "Both. He thinks I'm investing Daniel's money in something where I'll end up failing and he is not okay with Joel being a few years younger than him."

"Shit. I'm sorry," Ellie said softly, joining you back in the kitchen. "That's fucked. But at least your mom sounds cool, right?"

"Well, she's coming around to it. It'll be her first time meeting Joel and I'm really hoping once she sees us together and how great he is, she can report back to my dad and maybe change his mind."

"Ha, no pressure, right?" she laughed. You grinned and finally turned to face her.

"You know what? I'm starting to not even care. Is that bad?" you asked with a guilty look on your face. But before she could answer, you continued. "I mean, I'm happy. I'm successful. Joel and Sarah are amazing. Should I even care if they agree with my choices or not? I'm an adult. I don't want to ruin my relationship with my parents but I'm not willing to sacrifice my own happiness for it."

"Hell yeah, man," Ellie said while toasting you with her hot chocolate. "You got the right headspace. Therapy is doing you good."

"Yeah, surprisingly, it kind of is," you said with a chuckle. An alarm went off on your phone and you glanced at it curiously before your eyes widened in panic. "Shit! I promised Joel I'd be over for dinner, I gotta clean up and get the hell out of here." You snatched your apron off and then your eyes locked onto the huge vat of piping hot soup on your stove.

"I'll handle it. Go!" Ellie said, waving her hands. "I'll lock up before I leave."

"Are you sure?" you asked, but you were already backing out of the kitchen.

"Absolutely. I'll watch some movie or something while I wait. Dina's working at the bookstore til ten, anyway."

"You're the greatest, Ellie, thank you!" you called over your shoulder as you disappeared into your bedroom to change.

"How is it you look prettier every time I see you?"

You giggled when Joel's scruffy beard scraped against the side of your neck, then melted into his arms when they circled around you from behind.

"Did you know you left the oven on? You're lucky you didn't burn the place down," you teased, tilting your head to give his lips better access.

"I was just takin' a quick shower, I knew there was plenty of time left."

He wasn't wrong. The lasagna he made still needed fifteen more minutes. Joel had actually gotten a lot better at cooking over the last few months. He liked to give you all the credit since he spent so much time watching you in the kitchen test new dishes for the food truck.

"And look at that," he murmured when he glanced at the timer. "Still got extra time. Any idea what we should do?"

"Are you looking to get dessert before dinner?" you asked, feigning shock. Joel chuckled against your throat before pressing himself against your ass and - shit, he wasn't joking.

"Been almost a week," he groaned against your ear. "Missed you so fuckin' much

"I missed you, too," you whispered before twisting around in his arms. You pressed your lips eagerly against his, getting lost in the familiar way you fit together. Whenever you were with Joel, your soul felt at peace. Everything seemed to make sense again and any stress faded away. But those things were difficult to explain to your parents without sounding insane, so you stopped trying, perfectly content with keeping the happiness he provided just between the two of you.

You blamed your weak resolve on the fact you had a stressful few days without him, craving the comfort only he could provide. That was why you found yourself less than five minutes later straddling his lap on the couch with your jeans abandoned somewhere on the floor behind you. Joel didn't even take his pants off all the way. He had shoved them down to his knees in a frenzy, desperate to feel you again after a long week.

The air stilled when you sunk down on his cock, the both of you too caught up in the feeling to remember to breathe.

"Oh, baby," he breathed, head tipping back to rest against the back of the couch. "Oh, that's it. That's my girl. There you go," he whispered, eyes glued to the way he disappeared inside you. You shifted and a small whimper slipped past your lips, pulling his gaze back up to you.

"How is that? Feel good?" he asked while circling his arms around your waist. You hummed and nodded before you started to move a little in his lap. You went slow at first while sharing deep, messy kisses. The hair from his beard burned your chin when he pried your mouth open wider, tongues swirling together amongst shared moans.

His big hands spread wide over your ribs, holding you against him to feel as close as possible while you slowly rocked your hips. He finally gave you a chance to breathe and broke the kiss, but then his mouth trailed down your throat and you held your breath anyway when his teeth grazed against the sensitive spot he made a mental note of last time.

"Missed you," he reminded you again as his lips ghosted over your collarbone. "Missed this. Missed feelin' this close to you."

"I know," you gasped, hands grabbing at his shoulders when he mouthed at your breast through your shirt. You started to move faster, encouraged by the delicious sting from his bite. "Fuck, Joel, do that again. Please," you whined.

He smirked and did the same playful bite to your other breast, cock twitching inside you when a low moan slipped past your lips.

"You like that?" he pressed. He loved it when you lost yourself in the moment, too engulfed with pleasure to hold yourself back. When he had you like that, you had no trouble asking for what you wanted. Your polite little filter vanished and you allow yourself to be selfish, to take what you want to make yourself feel good, and his chest puffed with pride every single time that you would choose him to be vulnerable with. You chose him to seek out everything you desired. You trusted him.

"Yes, Joel," you rasped. Your head was tipped backwards and your eyes had slid shut as you began to bounce faster on his lap. "Yes, Joel, I love it. I love it. Fuck, you feel so good. I can't - ah! - Christ, Joel, I love you-"

Time stood still with your words sitting heavy in the air. It took you a few seconds to realize what you said, then your eyes snapped open and you slapped a hand across your mouth in shock, hips freezing mid-air.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, staring down at his surprised expression. "I didn't mean for that to be the first time-"

"But you did mean it?" he asked, stopping your muffled ramblings. Slowly, you nodded with watery eyes. He yanked your hand off your mouth and pulled you down for a searing kiss.

"I love you, too," he whispered happily against your mouth. His hips began to rock up into you, encouraging you to move with his hands firmly on your waist. "Keep going. Want you to come for me," he said with a grunt, lips still hovering centimeters away from yours. You nodded and began to move again, chasing the release you were moments away from tasting before you had panicked and stopped.

"C'mon, make yourself feel good. Take what you need, baby," he groaned when you bounced faster, breasts swaying underneath your shirt right in front of his face, teasing him. He lunged forward and pinched your nipple between his teeth right when his thumb began to work quick circles over your clit. You cried out his name, fingers clawing at his shoulders until he finally heard that content little broken moan and your release slowly trickled down his cock.

"Shit - gonna come," he growled. His hand left your clit so he could wrap both arms tightly around your middle, using you for leverage as he roughly fucked up into you. You had sagged forward, head resting on his shoulder while placing sweet kisses against his throat. You heard his harsh pants for air in your ear and smiled at the soft noises he made right before he stilled with a loud groan, pumping you full of his seed until his shoulders relaxed and he leaned back tiredly against the couch.

Your hand snaked around the back of his neck, turning his face towards you for a lazy kiss before whispering I love you one more time.

"I love you so goddamn much," he sighed, making you giggle. You pushed yourself up with a sigh, feeling groggy and satiated. You were in the middle of lovingly tracing the creases next to his eyes while he gazed up at you when the timer on the stove went off. You both groaned, neither of you ready to pull apart just yet, but the last thing you wanted was the smell of burnt lasagna permeating the house for the rest of the evening. With a gasp, you lifted yourself from his lap and turned to hunt for your panties on shaky legs.

"Go clean up, I got it," Joel said, standing and pulling his jeans up the rest of the way. You nodded and waddled towards the bathroom with your clothes while he tended to your dinner in the kitchen.

"So, you're comin' by the site tomorrow?" Joel confirmed around a mouthful of food. You nodded, only half listening to the television, your brain still blissfully quiet from earlier.

"Yep. Then after I'm meeting with this woman from the paper. They want to run a small piece on the truck, talk about the viral stuff, all that."

"My girl's gonna be in the paper?" Joel asked excitedly. You laughed, wanting to tease him for being one of the few people who still read an actual newspaper, but his support for you and your dream was so sweet that you didn't want to ruin it.

"Yep. Maybe even a picture, too."

"Well, damn. Look at you," Joel said softly, and you smiled at the tender look in his eye. "Gonna be famous. Can't wait to frame it. I'mma put one in my office at work and one here," he told you matter of factly. He pointed to the mantle, currently adorned with garland and christmas lights, where an old picture of him, Sarah and Mia sat, along with a picture of Tommy and Maria from their wedding day.

"I get to be on the mantle?" you asked excitedly.

"'Course you do. Woulda been up there sooner if we ever took a decent picture together."

"We take tons of pictures together," you began, but he quickly waved you off.

"And in all of 'em I look like shit."

"You do not! You look better than me most of the time with that goddamn smirk of yours," you teased, pinching his side when you added, "and you've lost almost twenty pounds."

Joel just laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, taking your plate and stacking it with his before turning his attention towards the television. His thumb drew mindless circles over your arm and you listened to the peaceful, steady beat of his heart with your ear pressed against his chest.

Closing your eyes, you breathed deep and thought back on your life from the past several months. You had some curveballs thrown at you, sure, but given the circumstances, you were pretty damn happy with where you ended up: curled up next to the man you loved, listening to him mumble the wrong answers to Jeopardy amongst the twinkling lights from the Christmas tree.

"Howdy, girls!"

"Hey, Uncle Tommy!" Sarah called down from the window of the food truck. He grinned at her crooked black cap stitched with your company's name and logo on the front. Wild little pieces of hair stuck out from underneath, framing her face which was dusted with flour.

"Looks like you're workin' hard," he said, waving when he spotted you hurrying by behind her.

"It's crazy busy! We've been moving non-stop since we parked!" she exclaimed.

"Well, get ready, 'cause I just brought twenty hungry construction workers," he replied while jutting his chin down the sidewalk where his crew had been carefully walking around piles of snow that had been packed down and pushed around by the feet of holiday shoppers.

"Good timing, 'cause we just got through the lunch rush," she said before straightening up and turning to you and Ellie. "Hey, guys - my dad and his crew are on their way! Want me to drop some chicken in the fryer?"

"Yeah, toss in a tray of breasts and a tray of tenders to get us started," you said, wiping your hands on your apron before turning to Ellie. "And-"

"Yeah, I know, I got the bread out of the oven already."

You grinned and turned to give the three soups of the day a quick stir and did a quick check on the stock of paper products, confirming you were in a good enough spot to take on another wave of business when you heard a woman's voice call your name from the sidewalk, stopping you in your tracks. When you saw it was the reporter you had promised to meet with for the write up she was going to put in the paper, you felt your heart sink.

"Carmen, hi! We're getting another rush, I'm so sorry!" you said while leaning through the window to shake her hand. "Can I get like, twenty minutes?"

"Of course!" Carmen replied. "I have some shopping to do anyway, take your time."

You were in the middle of expressing your thanks when the truck was suddenly bombarded with Joel and Tommy's crew, their deep voices laughing and talking over one another while Ellie began to take some orders at the register. Before you got back to work, you spotted Joel and excitedly waved him over.

"Hey," you grinned as you practically hung half your body out of the window to grab his face and pull him in. He chuckled and leaned up to kiss you, his cold lips pressing against yours and urging them apart so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth.

"Hey! People are tryin' to eat!" Tommy laughed while playfully swatting at Joel's shoulder. You both laughed and pulled apart, too giddy and love drunk on each other to care.

"You're cold," you said after you pulled yourself back inside the truck. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Yes, please," Joel replied, eyes glittering with pride as he watched you move around the truck. When you stretched forward to hand him the cup, you winked and said, "On the house."

"How's the job going?" you asked as you worked on slicing up the bread Ellie had pulled from the oven. Tickets fluttered in front of you and Sarah gave Joel a big smile and wave when she dropped off chicken fresh from the fryer.

"Alright. Glad we're workin' inside today but place ain't rigged for heat yet so we're makin' do," he replied, taking a sip from his cup. "How's business?" he asked, nodding towards the truck. His eyes drifted fondly over the front where you had printed out the menu in huge letters. Every time he saw his daughter's or his wife's names, his throat tightened. You didn't have to name dishes after them, but you did. Practically insisted on it. It made him emotional back then and it continued to make him emotional whenever he saw it.

"Great! I was hoping to capitalize on holiday foot traffic and boy, did I."

Your eyes were glued to your work, chopping and slicing, making sandwiches and wrapping them in paper while scooping out soup from the huge vats behind you and bagging everything with ease.

You were in your element. This was what you were meant to do.

"Joel! Did you order yet or what?" Ellie called from the register.

"He always gets the same thing," Sarah reminded her with a playful hip check. Ellie rolled her eyes and stifled her grin.

"Oh, yeah, duh. You," she said, narrowing her eyes in your direction. You felt your cheeks warm and you smiled but kept your focus on your work.

"You don't always have to order my sandwich, you know," you teased him.

"Now how can you blame me when you taste so damn good?" Joel smirked from the sidewalk, instantly eliciting a groan of disgust from each of the girls.

"He means the sandwich!" you laughed, feeling all flustered and praying your embarrassment didn't show.

"Do I?"

"Joel!" you hissed with wide eyes as Sarah called him gross and Ellie covered her ears. He threw back his head and laughed while you shook your head with a permanent smile stretched across your face.

This is true happiness, you thought. This feeling could never be topped.

Once Joel and his crew ate and slowly disappeared back down the street towards the storefront they were working on, you washed your hands and checked your reflection before stepping out of the truck with your coat draped over your arm. You glanced around the now mildly crowded street, searching for Carmen and smiling when you locked eyes with her a few doors down carrying a couple shopping bags.

"Perfect timing," you said when she was within hearing range. "Thanks again. My boyfriend is working around the corner and brought his entire crew."

"No apology necessary," she replied warmly, then glanced around with a shiver. "Mind if we pop into this coffee shop? Shouldn't take more than half an hour."

You happily agreed and followed her inside the warm café, breathing in deep the scent of cinnamon and smiling to yourself when you heard the faint sound of Christmas carols filtering through the speakers.

Carmen wasted no time. She dove right in, asking you how you came up with the idea for the food truck and then segueing right into the viral video Ellie and Sarah created that got you such a cult following. You explained that Ellie was a friend, leaving out how you met for her own privacy, and how Sarah was Joel's daughter.

"I'm noticing these names are familiar," Carmen said with a smile.

"Yeah, I named sandwiches after important people in my life. It felt like a sweet way to honor them and express my gratitude," you explained. Carmen hummed and reviewed her notes, phone recording quietly on the table between you.

"May I ask, then, who are Mia and Daniel?"

You cleared your throat and gave her a brave smile.

"They're no longer with us," you began. Softly, Carmen murmured, oh, I'm sorry, while scribbling something on her notepad. "It's okay. Daniel was my fiancé. He passed away over a year ago from a car accident. And Mia was Sarah's mom."

Carmen nodded thoughtfully as she continued to write.

"Oh, so you knew Sarah's mom, too?"

"Well, no," you said, "but based on how much Sarah and Joel have told me, it feels like I've met her."

"That's sweet," Carmen said, letting her pen drop on her notepad. "And these sandwiches - do they reflect anything significant about the people they're named after?"

"They do," you replied while straightening in your chair. "I tried to make the sandwiches based on each person's preference. For instance, Mia loved spice, so hers is a fried spicy chicken sandwich with chipotle mayo. Which I find hilarious because neither Joel or Sarah can handle any amount of spice," you said with a soft laugh.

Carmen nodded and laced her fingers together.

"And how about the sandwich named after you?"

"Well, that was the very first one we created and decided should be on the menu," you said. "I hadn't even thought about names yet but the girls convinced me I should name it after myself and I guess they've got a knack for persuasion."

Carmen laughed and you felt your shoulders relax a bit, not even realizing you were tense until that very moment.

"Well, it's incredible, I must say. I was sneaky last week and got one for myself when you were out on Brunswick."

You gasped, feigning dismay and making her laugh.

"Thank you, I'm so happy to hear that," you replied with a wide smile. "It happens to be my boyfriend's favorite, too."

"Joel doesn't order The Joel?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow.

You shook your head and tried to forget his earlier comment when you said, "Guess not. But he helped design The Joel. In fact, he also helped with The Mia. Sarah did, as well."

"That's so lovely to hear," Carmen said softly, pressing her lips together and leaning forward. "I think it's such a wonderful detail, by the way. How the two of you came from relationships that ended in tragedy and managed to find peace and happiness with one another. And to honor your partners in this way is incredible."

"Thank you," you answered. Your chest warmed at her compliment. "Even though I never met Mia, she was important to the people I love the most, and therefore, she's important to me. Joel and Sarah feel the same about Daniel. Grief is a complicated thing, but I like to think I've found a way to live beside it."

Carmen smiled and dropped her gaze to the table. "That's so comforting and reassuring to hear. And an incredible quote to leave me with because it looks like our time is up."

"Quote?" you asked with a tilt to your head.

"I usually like to run a quote from my subject as my byline," Carmen said while she packed up her things. She began to stand and you stopped her.

"Wait - could I give you something else to put as your byline instead?"

She grinned and sat back down before pulling out her phone and pressing a button.

"Of course."

One Week Later

"You nervous 'bout your mama comin' up?" Joel asked, tugging you closer to his side as you walked up the snowy sidewalk.

"A little," you admitted. "But whatever she ends up thinking doesn't matter. I love you, Joel," you said, tilting your chin up to meet his eye. "I love you and nothing is ever going to change that."

He smiled and gave your lips a quick peck as you rounded the corner, closing in on the nearest grocery store.

"Well, back in my day, I used to be a big hit with a girl's parents."

"Oh, yeah?" you teased.

"Yep. They all loved me. I'm real respectful, you'll see."

You wanted to tell him to just be himself and to not stress about your mother's visit, but you knew there was no use. He was going to do everything possible to win your mother over and while you found it admirable he cared so much, you didn't want him to feel like he needed to make your parents come around. In your several talks with Ryan in therapy, you had come to the conclusion that nobody's approval was needed for you to be happy. It would be nice, sure. It would make holidays and special occasions easier. But nothing was going to change anything between you and Joel.

"Alright, now. Here we go," Joel said excitedly when the automatic doors slid open and you were met with a blast of warm air. You grinned and squeezed his arm while letting him drag you towards the newspapers and magazines. You both scanned the rows of periodicals before Joel spotted it first and grabbed the whole stack. He handed you the extras and eagerly flipped through the pages of the one on top before he paused with a slow smile.

"What? How does it look? What picture did she-"

You cut yourself short when you peered over his shoulder. Your breath hitched and you caught Joel's eye before looking back at the page.

Unbeknownst to you, Carmen and grabbed a quick shot of you leaning out of the food truck to kiss Joel. You were both smiling as snow lightly fell around you, the background highlighted by twinkling Christmas lights and laughing holiday shoppers. It looked like a photograph straight out of a movie: two people finding a quick moment for love in the midst of a busy street.

"You think that's a good enough picture of the two of us?" you asked, looking up at him adoringly, but his focus was on the byline. His eyes kept scanning the words over and over until you swore you saw tears begin to cloud his vision.

"You like it?" you found yourself whispering. He swallowed and nodded, bottom lip quivering before he let the paper drop to his side so he could cup your jaw and pull you in for a kiss.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I love you, too," you said softly against his lips. He gave you one more kiss before he sniffled and opened the paper again so he could reread the words:

This was all made possible because of Daniel, who taught me what true love is, and because of Joel, who showed me love during my darkest days - I owe you everything.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #comfort Joel #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #the last of us au #joel miller au #joel miller angst #Joel miller grief #the last of us angst #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #evergreen fic #joel miller smut

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mingi-s-dimples · 2 days ago

Text

Raw Need - Yunho

KINKTOBER DAY 29, REQ. BY 🤧

~"IM BACK AGAIN W ANOTHER REQUEST okay so its an omegaverse , reader is an omega and their dear partner is an alpha ( lets say yunho) and like this is readers first rut she couldnt control it at all because it was her first ever rut and she didn’t want to go tell yunho but because of the sweet smell of her pheromones yunho instantly knew what happened and it was clear that reader was feeling hotter and redder than usual when yunho asked her about at first she said no but after a little time she told him which make yunho go feral he asked “Would u mind if i helped” (They never did the bombaya before but they took showers and he was BIG.) but yunho didnt wait for an answer and he put his head in her neck slowly kissing her neck inhaling her sweet smell making him go crazy and get hard (a little skip time like they got undressed blah blah blah ) and when it was time for him to enter her like she told him to go slowly and that shes a little bit scared because she never took him before aka like a over all like gentle first time but after he stretched her out he was rough going deeper and deeper every time and maybe a little after care too 👉🏼👈🏼"

pairing: alpha!yunho × omega f!reader

genre: 18+, omegaverse, slight filth

summary: your first rut washed rough over you... and even if you didn't wanna do anything about it... your man made sure he'd fuck you senseless thru your rut.

wc: 5.1k

warnings: omegaverse, harsh dom!yunho, virgin/first rut for reader, marking, love at first then rough sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, pussy eating, making out, praise, some pet names, unprotected, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: I loved writing this one tbh... bestie I hope you like it and it's to your liking 😁 ily 🤍

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The quiet hum of the afternoon wrapped around the room like a cocoon, its tranquility disrupted only by the faint shuffle of papers and the occasional sound of distant footsteps. The room was nothing short of lavish, its opulence apparent in every detail. Velvet curtains hung heavy over the tall windows, filtering the sunlight into soft, golden streams that spilled across the polished hardwood floor. A grand bed sat in the center of the room, its plush, cream-colored duvet perfectly arranged, though you hadn’t dared to sit on it. Across from the bed, a gilded mirror stretched nearly to the ceiling, its ornate frame gleaming faintly in the dim light. Yunho had chosen its placement himself, a detail that always made your cheeks flush when you caught his lingering gaze in its reflection. Now, with the heat of your rut clouding your thoughts, the mirror felt more intrusive than ever.

The air was thick, though, laced with something so delicate and sweet that it bordered on intoxicating. You didn’t notice at first. Or maybe you did, but the swirling haze of heat pooling in your stomach had grown too overwhelming to let you focus on much else.

Your rut was coming on fast—too fast.

Leaning against the edge of the heavy wooden desk for balance, you drew in a shaky breath, your hands gripping the smooth surface like it was the only anchor in the storm raging inside of you. A feverish heat coursed through your veins, making your skin flush and your breaths uneven. You swallowed hard, your gaze darting toward the door as anxiety churned in your chest.

Yunho was just outside.

You hadn’t planned on telling him. How could you? The thought alone made your cheeks burn hotter than they already were. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—he was always so gentle with you, so caring, even when his alpha instincts occasionally surfaced in subtle ways. But this was different. This was your first rut. An experience so raw, so visceral, that it made you feel exposed in a way you couldn’t explain.

But Yunho would never let it go unnoticed.

The soft knock on the door startled you, your pulse jumping as you instinctively turned your head toward the sound.

“Y/N?” Yunho’s voice, low and warm, slipped through the crack in the door. It wasn’t just a question—it was a demand cloaked in care, his presence pressing against the threshold like a force you couldn’t escape.

You pressed your lips together, debating whether to respond. Surely he wouldn’t notice anything if you just—

The door creaked open before you could finish that thought, and Yunho stepped inside. His eyes found you instantly, and the moment they did, the room shifted.

The air grew heavier, electric, as his gaze darkened. His nostrils flared subtly, and you watched his jaw tense as he inhaled deeply. That sweet, unmistakable scent of your pheromones had reached him, and the effect was instant. His shoulders stiffened, the usual calm in his expression shattering as raw, unfiltered instinct bled through.

“Are you okay?” His voice was softer than you expected, but the tension behind it was unmistakable. He took a step closer, then another, his broad frame making the room feel impossibly small.

You nodded quickly, too quickly. “I’m fine,” you said, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Yunho’s eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze sweeping over you. You could feel him dissecting every detail—the way your hands trembled against the desk, the sheen of sweat on your flushed skin, the way your breaths came faster than normal. He knew.

“It’s your first rut, isn’t it?” His voice was lower now, rougher, the barely contained growl in his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

You hesitated, caught between denial and the truth that your body had already given away. Finally, you nodded, your gaze dropping to avoid the intensity of his stare.

But that was all it took.

Something inside Yunho snapped. A low, guttural growl rumbled from his chest, and the tension that had been building between you broke like a dam. In the next instant, he was in front of you, moving faster than you could process. His hand cupped your face, firm and unyielding as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You should’ve told me.” His voice was rough, feral, his breath hot against your skin. “You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I’d let you go through this alone?”

His other hand found your waist, his fingers pressing into your hip as though anchoring you to him. His body was impossibly close now, radiating a heat that only seemed to amplify the storm inside you.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he rasped, his tone more growl than words.

Before you could answer—or even breathe—he leaned in, his lips brushing the curve of your neck. The kiss wasn’t soft; it was open-mouthed, searing, and possessive in a way that left you breathless. He wasn’t holding back anymore. The restraint he’d always shown around you was gone, replaced by something wild and uncontrollable.

His teeth grazed your skin, not enough to hurt but enough to make you tremble beneath him. “You’re mine,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and rough, like a vow. “No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you.”

Yunho pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your knees weak. “Let me take care of you,” he growled, his fingers tightening their hold on your waist. “Don’t you dare hide this from me again.”

Yunho’s eyes remained locked on yours, his pupils blown wide with a feral hunger that made your breath hitch. The intensity of his gaze was almost too much, but it was impossible to look away. He leaned in, his hand still firm on your waist, pulling you closer until the heat of his body overwhelmed your senses.

His lips captured yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was desperate, messy, and entirely consuming, his mouth moving against yours like he couldn’t get enough. When his teeth caught your bottom lip, biting just hard enough to make you gasp, a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. His nails dug into your waist, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the sheer strength he was holding back.

“Bed,” he rasped against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. Before you could even process the word, his hands were on you, guiding you backward. The desk’s edge scraped against your hip for a fleeting moment before his grip tightened, lifting you just enough to move you effortlessly.

You barely registered your back hitting the plush mattress until you felt the weight of his body hovering over you. Yunho’s movements weren’t rough, but they were purposeful, deliberate, as though his instincts had taken full control. His hands roamed your sides, firm and possessive as they found your waist again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with intensity. His thumb brushed against your cheek, a moment of tenderness that contrasted starkly with the raw hunger in his expression.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the strain in it was evident. His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, the tension in his body clear as he awaited your answer.

You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly as you nodded, shy but certain.

That was all the permission Yunho needed.

His hands moved with urgency, tugging at your shirt as though it offended him. The fabric yielded easily under his grip, and though his movements bordered on aggressive, there was a reverence in the way his fingers ghosted over your skin as he worked. He paused only briefly, his gaze raking over you before his lips were back on your neck, trailing a path of open-mouthed kisses that left you breathless.

The heat pooling in your belly intensified as his hands slipped lower, brushing the waistband of your shorts. His touch was firm, unyielding, and it sent sparks through every nerve in your body.

A sudden thought flared in your mind, unbidden but vivid. You remembered the time you and Yunho had taken a shower together, an innocent moment that had left you more flustered than you cared to admit. You hadn’t been able to stop your gaze from wandering, and what you’d seen had stayed with you ever since. He was… packing, to put it mildly.

The memory alone was enough to make you press your thighs together, your body betraying the heat swirling inside you. Yunho noticed instantly. His eyes darkened further, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as though he could read your thoughts.

“You’re thinking about something,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Something that’s turning you on even more, isn’t it?”

You tried to shake your head, but Yunho wasn’t having it. His hand slid down to your thigh, gently coaxing it apart as his nails grazed your skin. The possessiveness in his touch was unmistakable, and it only made the ache in your core worse.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough with want. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Yunho’s lips didn’t relent, dragging hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. His hands gripped your waist firmly, fingers digging into your skin as though anchoring himself. You could feel the possessiveness radiating from him, the way his touch claimed every inch of you.

“Mine,” he growled softly against your neck, the word vibrating against your skin before his teeth sank gently into the sensitive spot just below your jaw. The sensation sent a wave of dizziness washing over you, the heat pooling low in your belly becoming nearly unbearable.

Your hands moved instinctively, tangling in his dark hair as his lips continued their path downward. He seemed to revel in the way you clung to him, his low growl vibrating against your skin as his mouth traveled to your collarbone. He didn’t hesitate, leaving marks in his wake—small, dark bruises that bloomed on your skin like a map of his devotion.

“Yunho,” you whispered, your voice shaky and breathless as your body arched into his touch.

“Shh,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His lips pressed to the curve of your shoulder before trailing lower. “Let me take care of you.”

Every kiss, every bite, every graze of his teeth left you reeling. His lips found the swell of your chest, your nipples hard, pressing kisses that were as reverent as they were feral. When his mouth closed over them, you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped you, your head falling back against the bed as your body melted beneath him.

“You’re so perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. His hands moved to your sides, holding you steady as his lips continued their descent. He kissed along the curve of your ribs, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin just enough to leave a tingle in their wake.

By the time his mouth reached your belly, you were dizzy, your mind fogged with the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. His tongue traced the sensitive dip of your navel before his teeth grazed just above it, and your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging softly in response.

Yunho groaned at your touch, the sound sending another jolt of heat through you. His lips continued their path lower, pressing kisses to the soft skin of your hips before finding the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

He paused for a moment, his breath ghosting over your skin as he looked up at you. The sight of him—his dark, feral eyes gazing at you from between your thighs, his lips slightly swollen and marked with your taste—made your breath hitch.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost a growl. His hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly before pulling you closer with a single, powerful motion.

Before you could process the movement, his mouth was working its way on your folds, his lips pressing against you with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. The sudden intensity of it made you gasp, your head falling back as the heat in your belly surged, consuming you completely.

Yunho didn’t hold back. His mouth moved with precision and fervor, his tongue working against your sensitive flesh in ways that left you gasping. Each stroke was deliberate, calculated, his lips and tongue dragging over every nerve ending until your entire body trembled beneath him. His hands gripped your thighs, firm enough to keep you open for him, his nails pressing into your skin as though daring you to move.

The sounds leaving you were unrestrained, soft moans mixed with whimpers that only seemed to spur him on. He groaned against you, the vibration sending a shockwave through your body that made your legs shake.

“Yunho—” you managed to gasp, your fingers tangling deeper into his hair, pulling just enough to draw another low growl from him. The way his tongue teased and circled your clit, the sheer intensity of his focus, had you spiraling.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and possessive. “Let me hear you.”

The coil in your belly tightened with every flick of his tongue, every gentle scrape of his teeth. Your legs trembled uncontrollably, the heat spreading through your entire body as your breaths grew shallow. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the relentless pleasure he was giving you.

When you finally reached your high, it hit you like a wave, crashing over you in a blinding surge of heat and sensation. Your body arched, your hands clutching at Yunho as soft cries spilled from your lips. He didn’t stop, his tongue coaxing you through every second of your orgasm until you were trembling from the overstimulation, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Good girl,” Yunho rasped, his voice laced with satisfaction as he finally pulled back, his lips glistening. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

He stood, towering over you as his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. His muscles flexed as he pulled it over his head, tossing it aside without care. The golden light from the room caught the lines of his chest and shoulders, every movement accentuating the raw strength in his form.

You couldn’t help but stare as he reached for the waistband of his pants, his fingers deftly undoing the button before sliding them down. He was stunning, every inch of him commanding your attention.

Yunho’s eyes darkened as he caught you looking, his smirk widening. “See something you like?” he teased, though the heat in his gaze left no room for denial.

He climbed onto the bed with an ease that belied his size, his hands finding your waist again as he pulled you up into his lap. The shift was sudden, and you let out a soft gasp as he positioned you effortlessly. His knees rested on the mattress, and he held you securely, your legs draped on either side of his hips.

You realized the mirror was directly in front of you now, its reflective surface catching every detail of the moment. Yunho’s grip shifted, one hand sliding beneath your knees as the other found your chin, tilting your face toward the mirror.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and command. “So beautiful. So perfect.”

Your cheeks flushed as you caught your reflection. The sight of yourself, completely exposed in his lap, was almost too much. You tried to avert your gaze, but Yunho’s fingers on your chin held firm, gently pulling you back.

“Don’t look away,” he said, his tone soft but unyielding. “I want you to see how stunning you are. I want you to see what I see.”

His hands shifted again, his fingers gripping beneath your knees to spread you open further. The action made you gasp, the vulnerability of the position sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

“You’re mine,” Yunho said, his voice low and reverent as he held you in place. “Every inch of you is mine.”

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Yunho's hands were firm but gentle as he guided you into position, pulling you into his lap. Your back pressed against his chest, and the warmth of his body surrounded you, his presence overwhelming in the best way. His hands moved to your legs, his fingertips sending little shivers through your skin as he positioned you just right. You could feel the heat of him beneath you, his cock brushing over your lower back with each movement. The proximity made your pulse quicken, the sensation of him so close that it nearly drove you wild.

You paused for a moment, your breath shallow, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding you. The overwhelming heat of the situation, the closeness, made your mind dizzy. You reached back, placing your hand on his chest to steady yourself, and your voice trembled as you spoke.

“Yunho,” you whispered, the sound almost a plea.

“Yes, darling?” he stopped everything, looking in the mirror at you.

You hesitated for a moment. “It’s... my first time… c-can you... can you be gentle with me, at first?”

Yunho froze for a moment, his hands stilling under your knees. He could feel the nervousness in your touch, your soft voice carrying the weight of your vulnerability. He leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm and reassuring.

“Of course, baby,” Yunho murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “I’ll take care of you, always.”

You felt his hands shift, adjusting his position beneath you, and he moved with such careful attention. His body was so close that you could feel the heat of him against your back, the pressure building with every slight movement, but he held back, moving only as slowly as you needed. His grip on your legs tightened just enough to give you comfort and security, and you melted into his touch.

With a deep breath, Yunho slowly guided you down, inch by inch. You felt the initial stretch, the unfamiliar sensation, but his slow movements allowed you to adjust, your body beginning to relax into him. The feeling of his chest against your back, of his heat surrounding you, made your body respond, even if it was just from the closeness.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice a soothing hum in your ear. “You’re doing so well. Just breathe, take your time.”

You shifted slightly, the soft friction sending tiny jolts of pleasure through you, and Yunho’s body tightened beneath you, a low growl escaping from his throat. He was fighting the urge to move faster, to take you with more force, but he restrained himself, focusing on you.

Slowly, the tension in your body began to ease, the heat in your core building as you adjusted to the feeling of him. You could feel him brushing against your back, his warmth spreading, and every soft touch, every movement, only made you crave more of him.

“You okay?” Yunho asked, his voice filled with concern, though there was a darker edge of hunger just beneath the surface. “Need me to go slower?”

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you breathed out, “ I’m okay.”

The slow, steady rhythm continued as Yunho guided you, his hands holding your legs outwards as he effortlessly pulled you up and down on his cock, slowly. You could feel the power in him, the control, but also the tenderness with which he held you, the care in every movement. He was taking his time with you, making sure you were completely comfortable, completely lost in the moment with him.

After a few moments, you felt your body adjusting, the heat growing, and the soft ache turning into something deeper, more intense. You shifted again, this time pressing your back more firmly against his chest, seeking a deeper connection. Yunho immediately noticed the change, his breathing picking up as he responded with a slight shift of his own.

“I think you’re ready for more,” he muttered softly, his voice a mixture of admiration and hunger. “Tell me if I’m right, baby. You want more?”

You nodded shyly, your breath quickening as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. “Yes… please.”

Yunho smiled softly, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck, and without waiting another moment, he began to move with you, slowly, steadily, a little deeper, a little more insistent. The heat inside you began to build with each motion, your body finally responding fully to his touch.

As the moment stretched on, Yunho could feel his control slipping. The slow, steady pace had done its job—it had allowed you to adjust, to relax—but the desire building inside him was too much to bear. He couldn’t stay patient forever, not when the way you moved against him, so delicate and needy, was driving him wild.

With a low, barely contained growl, Yunho suddenly shifted. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you forward with a force that took you by surprise. You gasped as your chest pressed into the soft mattress, your body tilted just enough to feel the change. His hand moved swiftly to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair as he held you in place, his chest pressed against your back.

“May I go rougher?” Yunho’s voice was hoarse, his breath ragged against the back of your neck. “I can’t take it anymore. I need more.”

The words, so full of need, sent a rush of heat through your body. You could feel the raw desire in his voice, and without hesitation, you nodded faintly, unable to speak as your breath caught in your throat.

The moment you gave him that silent permission, Yunho’s pace shifted, becoming more intense. His hands gripped you more firmly as he guided you forward, his movements faster, deeper. Every shift of his body sent sparks through your skin, the heat in your belly intensifying with every thrust. The pressure in your chest built as your body responded to him, the sensual rhythm becoming more urgent, more powerful.

His lips brushed against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice strained, but still soft with reverence. “So perfect for me.”

Each movement sent you spiraling, your body trembling with the force of the connection, with the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Yunho’s hold on you was firm, possessive, yet still filled with the tenderness he couldn’t hide. He was in control, but it was clear that every inch of him was completely consumed by you.

Yunho’s grip in your hair tightened slightly, pulling just enough to send a shiver down your spine. The sensation was electrifying, the sharp contrast between his strength and the reverence in his touch overwhelming. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing over your skin as he whispered, his voice a low growl.

“Look at you, completely perfect,” he murmured, the words laced with possessiveness. His hand on your waist slid lower, his grip firm as he guided your body to move with his. Every shift, every deliberate motion, sent ripples of warmth through your skin, your senses heightened by the intensity of his presence.

“You feel that?” he asked, his voice rough but filled with awe. “That’s all you, baby. You’re driving me insane.”

Your legs trembled as Yunho moved with more purpose, the power behind his actions leaving you breathless. His body fit against yours so completely, every part of him enveloping you as if he was meant to. His hand slipped from your waist to rest on your belly, pulling you even closer against him as he leaned down to kiss the corner of your jaw, his lips moving slowly, savoring every inch of you.

“I want you to let go for me,” he coaxed, his voice softening slightly as his lips moved back to your ear. “Don’t hold back. I want all of you, every sound, every feeling.”

The tension building in your body was unbearable, the heat pooling low in your belly as Yunho continued, his movements growing rougher, more commanding. The way he whispered praise into your ear only added fuel to the fire, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

“You’re incredible,” Yunho groaned, his tone heavy with admiration and something darker, more primal. “I could stay like this forever.”

When the orgasm overtook you again, your body arched instinctively, every nerve alight with sensation. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, the overwhelming release leaving you breathless as soft cries escaped your lips. Yunho didn’t stop, his movements steady and sure as he helped you ride the high. His hold on you tightened, his growls low and guttural as he watched you come undone.

Even as the waves of sensation subsided, Yunho’s pace didn’t falter. His grip on your waist grew stronger, his other hand tangling in your hair once more as he pulled you back slightly to meet him.

“Stay with me,” he growled, his voice rough, his breaths shallow. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His movements became more intense, his need for you taking over as his strength pressed you firmly into place. The sound of his voice, the feeling of his body surrounding you, was too much. You could feel his restraint slipping, the raw hunger in his actions showing through as he drove himself toward his own high, spilling his load inches deep inside you, filling you up good.

When he finally stilled, his breath heavy and ragged against your ear, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your skin.

“You’re amazing,” Yunho whispered, his voice softening, though the roughness from before lingered in the edges. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

With a tender strength, Yunho sat back, lifting you effortlessly into his embrace. Your body felt light against his, completely enveloped in his warmth as he guided you to lean against his chest. His hands moved gently now, tracing slow circles on your waist as he whispered soothing words into your ear.

Tilting your chin upward with his fingers, Yunho made you look into the mirror once more. Your reflection was a testament to the moment—your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen, your hair slightly mussed… body all sweaty and your cunt dripping with both of his and your juices on his thighs. His gaze, dark and full of pride, met yours in the glass as he kissed your temple softly.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his voice deep but tender. “Do you see what I see? How beautiful are you?”

Your face heated further, and you tried to look away, but his hand was quick to guide your chin back, holding you steady.

“Don’t shy away,” Yunho said, his voice firm but full of affection. “You’re breathtaking. Perfect. Mine.”

And as he held you there, safe in his embrace, the intensity of the moment melted into a warm stillness. You could feel his heart beating steadily against your back, his lips pressing one final kiss to the crown of your head as he whispered once more, “Always.”

As the intensity ebbed and warmth began to settle over you both, Yunho’s grip on your waist softened slightly, though his presence remained firm and grounding. His breath was still uneven as it fanned against your ear, and his hand shifted to cradle your face gently, his thumb brushing across your flushed cheek.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges but filled with tenderness. His eyes searched yours as his fingers trailed softly down your jawline, grounding you even as the sensations still lingered. “You were so good for me… I need to know you’re feeling alright.”

You nodded faintly, still catching your breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m okay… I promise.”

Yunho’s lips twitched into a faint smile, the kind that was just for you, warm and full of pride. “Good,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Because you were perfect. Better than perfect.”

With gentle yet deliberate strength, Yunho guided your body to turn and face him fully, his hands steady on your waist as he pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you so close it was as if he wanted to shield you from the world. The feeling of his warmth, his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, made you feel completely secure.

“That was your first rut,” he murmured into your hair, his voice reverent but laced with something darker, the remnants of his earlier feral energy still flickering beneath the surface. “And you handled it like you were made for me.”

His fingers trailed down your spine, his grip firm but soothing, as though he couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t let go even for a moment. “You have no idea how proud I am of you,” Yunho whispered, his lips brushing against your temple before finding your ear. “You’re mine. Every single part of you, and I’ll never let you forget it.”

The possessiveness in his tone sent another shiver through you, but the tenderness in his embrace made you relax completely. When Yunho pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze was unwavering, dark with adoration and a lingering hunger, though his smile softened the edges.

“You’re incredible,” he said, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before tucking you back into his arms. “Always.”

And in his embrace, the weight of the moment dissolved into something sweeter, safer. Even as your body hummed with the remnants of everything you’d just shared, it was his presence, his unyielding care, that made you feel entirely, utterly his.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive

#ateez fanfic #illusionnet #blossomnet #ateez x reader #mingi s dimples masterlist #ateez fic #ateez x y/n #fanfic #smut fic #ateez #ateez smut #smut #yunho x you #yunho x reader #ateez yunho #yunho smut #jeong yunho #yunho

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comatosebunny09 · 2 days ago

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soft kitty, warm kitty [ one ] | sylus

— summary: the one where the adorable stray cat you take in is not all that he appears to be. — cw: silliness, fluff, slight injury and blood mention, shapeshifting, hybrid au, self-indulgent af — now playing: carousel - evgeny grinko

There was this pretty stray kitty you’d been feeding and playing with outside your job for three or so months.

At first, it wasn’t your biggest fan. It spat, hissed, and swiped at you whenever you got too close—you learned to carry band-aids in your bag from thereon. But it still quietly nibbled on the food you left out when you were at a safe distance. You made a point to refill its bowls each time you came to work. Started leaving a cardboard box with a solar-powered heating pad outside to help it battle the glacial nights that often befell the city.

Eventually, it grew accustomed to you. With baby steps, it came closer and closer each day, sometimes perching itself on the bench you sat on during your lunch or smoke breaks to keep you company. With time, it allowed you to pet it. Its ivory fur was surprisingly soft beneath the street sludge and grime it accumulated throughout the time you knew it. It also had striking, scarlet eyes you brushed off as a genetic mutation. Plenty of weird animals inhabited the city, so an uncommon eye color wasn’t particularly unsettling.

The adorable stray only allowed you to touch it, reverting to its initial attitude when your coworkers got too close. It seemed to specifically take a liking to you, bunting its little cranium against your hand and ankles, marking you with its scent, grooming you with its barbed tongue, and purring like the low rumble of a Mustang.

Finally, you decided to catch it. You noticed a red, crusted ring adorning its tiny ankle. It must’ve been injured. You weren’t sure how long it would survive on the streets before infection set in, and your caring instincts were screaming at you to save it.

So, you did.

It was surprisingly easy to lure the little guy into a cat carrier with treats. It crawled into the bag effortlessly, almost as if it wanted to be rescued. That afternoon, you took it to the vet. They cleaned its foot, gave you cream and antibiotics to ward off infection, updated its shots—the whole nine yards.

It had also been revealed to you that your feline friend was a boy. The vet offered to neuter him, but you staved it off, promising to return later. You could barely afford the bill he racked up from his treatment alone.

With a warm smile, you cradled the carrier, holding your new companion in your lap as you rode the subway. The pretty, sedated feline purred nonstop on the commute home.

It took some time to adjust. Of course, you hadn’t expected his transition to succeed overnight.

When you gave him his first bath, he wasn’t the happiest camper. He adorned your arms with angry, red streaks to illustrate his discontent. His coat was lustrous and white beneath the grime and fleas. And though he was initially a hissing, snooty ball of fluff following his bath, he purred continuously when he curled up beside you that night in your bed, seemingly grateful to be off the street.

You find with time that old habits die hard.

You bought him a red leather collar to compliment his eyes. With it came a bell and pendant, and your address was carved into it. The little guy loved to slip out of your apartment at night, often returning to the streets he was so accustomed to. He always came back, sometimes days after disappearing. He brought you little presents, ranging from dead mice to shiny, crimson gems that looked like they could’ve been worth a fortune. Snowball, as you had fondly named him, was truly a marvel. He was adjusting to domestic life well, but you didn’t stifle him when he wanted to spend his nights perusing the city and stirring up little cat mischief.

You were grateful for the company. You’d been living in the city for about a year, having relocated to its heart for your job. You didn’t have any family in the area, so you relied heavily on your coworkers for social interaction. Otherwise, you were on your own.

It was pleasant to have a little fur ball bouncing around your home, knocking things off your dresser, shacking up in your pantry, or hiding under your dining table, ready to attack your ankles. He brought excitement to your otherwise humdrum life, keeping you on your toes while curling up at your feet, expressing his gratitude for everything you’d done for him thus far.

You were content despite your solitude, looking forward to what your furry companion had in store for you each day.

You awaken to sunbeams coloring the space behind your eyelids. To the melody of birds chirping and cars occasionally easing by on the street.

A quiet smile rounding your lips, you reach beside you to pet through familiar tufts of white. Snowball routinely curls up next to your head on the pillow when you sleep. You haven’t yet opened your eyes, so you’re a little caught off guard when his fur feels slightly shorter than usual.

Still, you wear a smile as you fondly coo at your kitty, your voice rough with sleep. He doesn’t purr in response, which is strange given his purr motor’s always been broken. He never knows when to stop. Perhaps he doesn’t feel well today?

Cautiously, you pry your eyes open, your vision blurry from the sun's rays. Through the haze, you ingest a familiar wash of stark white. Your eyesight gradually corrects, and you can discern shapes and colors. Upon taking in the scene beside you, you stiffen, your silly little smile frozen in place.

On the other side of your bed, where Snowball would usually be roosted, quietly waiting for you to stir from your slumber, lies a tan stretch of skin. Recognizable red eyes watch you beneath short, swept lashes, blinking sluggishly, a humored cant to pink-petaled lips.

Reality slowly trickles in. There is very much a warm-blooded man beside you in place of your darling feline. Your smile melts away, traded for something of confusion. And once you’ve fully processed the moment, you do what any logical person would do given this situation: you scream.

The strange man beside you winces, a searing, heavy hand shooting out to cover your mouth. Your voice dies in the back of your throat, and the stranger takes you in with mild irritation donning his features.

“Must you be so noisy?” he grouses, the rough slide of his voice furling in your stomach. You blink owlishly at him, his hand still clamped over your mouth.

As the adrenaline spuming through your body tempers, and you’ve taken more time to breathe and assess your situation, you fully observe the intruder. And with a mixture of horror and confusion, you intake a familiar set of ivory, tufted ears twitching atop his head.

Again, you let your instincts guide you, and you do what one would typically do in this situation: you reach out to tweak said ears, confirming the familiar glide of silken fur beneath your fingertips. The stranger sucks in a breath, jerking away from your prodding. He fixes you with an iron gaze that pierces straight through to your soul. A look you’re all too familiar with, Snowball having pinned you with it at random times throughout your day.

You scream again, the sound of it muffled behind the meatiness of the stranger’s palm. Only, this is no stranger.

Is this—is this Snowball?

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus fluff #sylus fic #qin che #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus qin

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celesomnis · 3 days ago

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❝ The Lionguard Gambit ❞

Nyoka Wadjet x Prefect Reader

The prefect requires some help. The snakeman will not provide it without a catch. There is chess, and a more harrowing "game" is maybe played too.

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babes, bros, and nonbinary beaus, I present to you the highly anticipated ''x reader'' ficlet for @cozymochi and @oddberryshortcake 's slitheringly handsome oc!

because let's be so real, we all down bad for that snake boi.

(and happy christmas you two dears! <3 I hope you do enjoy this and that it lifts your spirits fghsjk and i am so sorry if he is wildly ooc,, I tried my best 😭)

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“I know a guy for that.”

"Yeah. I'm kinda... I'm kind of here because you do, actually."

Nyoka Wadjet did not look amused.

You folded your fingers together and regarded the venomous beastman as passively and politely as you were able.

"Look. I know since we've been sticking around in Savanaclaw lately, Grim has been pushing your boundaries here and there. So if you help me, I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again like that... for two whole weeks."

Air pushed slowly through his nostrils. He was regarding you more seriously now.

Approaching the very allusive, and admittedly rather frightful, student in order to find somebody who could counterfeit thaumarks was perhaps not the most self-preserving decision you'd made. But it was imperative to a growing idea you had on how to deal with you and your friends' latest Azul troubles.

"Three weeks." You sweetened the deal.

Nyoka's eyes narrowed.

"He landed on my head." was stated factually, like the action's offense spoke for itself.

That had indeed happened. Grim was not a often creature of preserving personal space.

"A month?" You tried.

"A year."

Well that wasn't happening. "Um. I could offer two months, maybe." People really had a tendency to overestimate your level of control over that little (lovable) demon.

It seemed like that was not a favorable compromise. Nyoka's attention dipped from you and moved to the room's center where he had previously been seated.

Your stare followed his towards the shining, porcelain chess set readied and untouched at the low-standing table. Sparking a different tactic.

"Or, maybe you could play me for it?"

His gaze swung lazily back at you. Something about the action, and the hooded way his eyes looked, put little tingles along your arms.

"I promise I actually know how to play." You said, in case he was doubting your authenticity.

Movement caught your attention behind his legs, and a second later, his long tail came swishing side to side. A myriad of scales glittering under the sunroof's light.

A somersault happened inside your stomach, but was ignored in favor of catching Nyoka's next words.

“I like to be on the winning side.”

"Is that you doubting yourself against me?" You pushed.

He tipped his chin up slightly, a sun-flare running over his glasses.

“One battle doesn’t lose a war, prefect.”

The message was clear. Challenge Accepted.

He waved a gloved hand, inviting you to sit, which you obliged.

"Alright." Nyoka told you, easing himself gracefully onto the opposing seat. "If you beat me, I will connect you with my friend. But if I beat you, you will forbid your familiar from invading my presence for the remainder of the year."

Oh dear. He was dead-set on that, wasn't he.

Your eyes met. The colors in his clashed your own.

These were desperate times.

"Deal."

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The first few minutes of the game were done mostly in silence.

While it was true you knew how to play (at least, back in your home world you had) it'd been awhile since you'd done so for real, and there was a necessary amount of concentration needed in the first half while you eased back into things.

Nyoka, naturally, was a hard player from the start.

Though some of the plays and tactics he tried helped along in jogging your memory of the nuances, there was still some clear rust in your play, whereas he was all refined sharpness.

Poising in ponder, then striking fast.

Quick as a cobra.

The game did not take long to be leant in his favor.

And the silence was becoming brutal.

It was very quiet in the room, which made sense as to why Nyoka liked to frequent here. And it wasn't unsettling.

That was not the issue.

The distress came because in its peace, it caused the only sound you could latch onto in the whole room was the slow, deep, even breaths leaving the man's chest.

Slow in, slower out, over and over.

Each breath led your concentration to phase in and out of the game with it.

When you snapped back to, you found you just lost one of your knights. Rather viciously.

"You're really subtle with your attacks." You noted sardonically, mostly just to say anything.

There was a shake to your hands as they moved your king.

Nyoka watched you fidget.

In reply, there was a smooth counter of; "Hmph. Like a drop to the head."

You wetted your lips. Moved a pawn. "Grim's harmless, just very personable."

"He is lucky I didn't bite him." Nyoka murmured.

You were still a little lost to thought when this was said, so your ears failed to detect if its inflection held jest or sarcasm.

"Really? I figured you too elegant to go around handling annoyances with your teeth," Slipped out of your mouth before sense caught up to it.

His eyes slid at you. Pinned you there.

Something in your gut flipped.

"I should bite you, Prefect."

The game, and entire room, might have disappeared, but right then you couldn't have been sure.

He spoke it low, and it rolled out of his throat in a way that sent heat down your back. "But I think I wouldn't get the taste out of my mouth for days."

The heat became infernal.

Your head turned away, cheek meeting the forgiving cold of the sofa, desperate to pretend those words weren't the most charged thing you'd experienced in your time here.

"Calm yourself," He intoned, and maybe it was your racing mind, but you almost thought he had the gall to sound amused. "Any venom I have is reserved for other targets."

Oh, you were anything but calm. But there was a bell ringing in the distance, another later hour revealing itself.

It was getting late, and you still had a chess game at stake.

Nyoka exhaled, a low and long huff that makes you at once certain you won't be able to stand for a long while after this.

It felt like a lot of things were at stake right now.

From infernal to charred, you were a wreck at this point.

Forcing your focus to cooperate, the board came back to life before you and a realization was brought with it.

"Finding it difficult to think?" His words were edged with a sultry hiss.

You steeled. Made your move fast. Trying to keep your face unchanging.

Nyoka fluttered his long fingers atop his pieces, calculating, before finally resting atop his queen. And took your pawn.

A sudden sense of victory quelled all other emotions within you, and with haste you moved your knight into a position that seemed vulnerable.

Taking the bait, Nyoka moved his queen back where it was before.

You struck, using your bishop to fly across the board for the winning move. Exclaiming "Check!" and knocking porcelain against porcelain. Hands springing up, elated. "Hah! I did it! The Lionguard Gambit!"

Nyoka looked up at you fast, then moved aback. Expression one you couldn't define. "The... What."

You remained as you were. Enjoying the simmer of your victory.

Thanking the gods and the Seven for having provided the luck that led you to stumble across that move in a late-night library study one evening.

The snakeman stared at you a long time.

The longer that the seconds ticked by, the less sure of yourself you became. Fearful there had been a miscalculation or premature celebration.

You hadn't done it wrong, had you?

And then, Nyoka said; "...Lionheart Gambit?"

A rush of burning sensation to your ears coaxed your arms into a deflate.

"Oh." That was embarrassing. "Well- you know what I meant! My point is, I won!"

"So you did." He relented, sparing you by moving on from your blunder.

It had felt like your mispronunciation had sort of rattled him, for whatever reason, but that was a mystery for another time.

“I guess some battles can turn a war’s tides, snake eyes.” You said, tone lilting once more coy.

Nyoka lowered himself into the spine of his chair with crossing arms.

You waited. "...Um. So. Nyoka?"

"Don't get fretful, prefect, I withhold my ends of bargains. I'll introduce you to the person you seek tomorrow."

You felt a press of disappoint, but relented that it had gotten late. You hadn't realized when the sun's shine had been replaced with the softer lights of the overhead lanterns.

Rising from the seat, knees mercifully only wobbling a little, you offered him thanks and began to make the - perhaps a little purposefully slowed - trek towards the exit.

"Well. Goodnight, Nyoka."

"Hmm."

"You not going to sleep?"

"In a while."

“Ah. Putting in some extra practice for when you get a good chess partner?” You tossed playfully over a shoulder.

“That is not an issue.”

Nyoka rolled his fingers into a fist and set his chin on it. He did not look back at you, but somehow, the heat in your chest returned all the same.

And beyond noise of the door shutting after you, you caught six words that kept that heat burning low in your chest for the whole night following;

“I know a prefect for that.”

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fin.

#(not my own oc!!)#nyoka wadjet #Cozymochi and Oddberry's OC - NYOKA #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #this chess match was written by a non-chess player pLS do not come for me #nyoka x reader #nyoka wadjet x reader #pls don't look too hard into the fic's set-up lore either 😭 I really just sorta bullsh*tted

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naoyoki · 2 days ago

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✦☆ mdni , smut , afab!reader , bondage , mentions of blowjobs , breeding , mind break , feral nanami wanting a kid + fluff . i forgot priests couldn't get married unless they broke their vow , least to say i never really paid attention on sunday school unless it was to get candy 🧌

PINNED PREQUEL PREVIOUSLY

it's the wedding night with priest!nanami, well now theological historian!nanami. his love and devotion for you was so strong that it made him take the decision to elope with you. break his clerical vow of celibacy— as if he hadn't broken it already...countless times, and leave the town with you.

all for the sake of your future. you peered through the window of possibilities as nanami led you, with intertwined hands to the shared room at the hotel.

it would be in the afternoon when the kettle began to screech. the kids would be playing with a golden retriever puppy right outside in the backyard. spraying water from the hose at each other and the little dog. you couldn't help but break out a smile with the beautiful view as you poured the boiled water onto kento's favorite mug.

the sun rays would get transformed into color by the sun catchers, making your way to your husband's office a blast of colors. nanami took with grace the steaming treat you prepared him. even with some wrinkles and white streaks painting his hair, he is still as handsome as the day you met him.

"are the kids bothering you?" wrapping your arms around your husband, you see beyond the closed, wet window which also leads towards the backyard. the kids are still going berserk.

"i had to close the window because of those little rascals. but don't worry, i'm about to finish reviewing these homeworks."

"mmm, alright." your future seemed to be riddled with perpetual smiles and love. your husband takes your hands into his and leands in to kiss them before you begin to leave, "remember, we need to bathe the dog."

he sighs, quite defeated but chuckles soon after, "i can't hate that little devil."

"of course you can't, he's your twin!"

it was kento picking you up into his arms that fazed you out from your fantasy. it came out of nowhere, but he was gentle when elevating you up from the ground. you were his bride, now and forever. so how could he not hold you close to his body like one?

but this gentleness soon transmuted into a lust-driven frenzy. his cock was shiny and slick from your drool and combined juices, of which began to drip onto the mattress.

your arms wrapped around the back of the blond's neck, your tied hands, that held his dick while you suck on it, grasped onto his short hair. his hips helped thrust his cock deep and hard into you, as his tip began to kiss your g-spot and tingle your cervix entrance. leaving you counting stars with every blow he strikes.

"c'mon little dove, talk to me. how many babies you want?" he unlace the bindings that held you, and let your hands tease all around his flexing abs until they landed to your lower belly, "you're gonna look so pretty with my baby here, don't you think so, love?"

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starvrse · 2 days ago

Text

CARNIVAL

| pairing : daniela avanzini x fem!reader

| summary : errr u and ur gf go to a fair and u get jealous or wtv

| warnings : g!p daniela, jealousy, p in v, no protection, impregnating talk, ass slapping, cursing, car sex, etc.

| unnecessary bs : 3k words 🙏 glaze me again

walking through the fair, hand in hand with your girlfriend, daniela. the evening air was warm, and the lights of the rides blinked in vibrant colors around you, casting soft glows on the crowd. you had just gotten off the rollercoaster, and now you were both reliving the adrenaline rush. “honestly, that wasn’t even scary, like, at all” you said, replaying the whole ride in your head.

daniela raised an eyebrow, her smile playful but teasing. “don’t even lie!” she grinned, giving you a nudge. “you were screaming so loud, i could hear you over the whole thing.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “i was just vocalizing my excitement.” you said, trying to sound confident.

“vocalizing?” she laughed. “babe, you were straight up shrieking—and you were squeezing my arm so tight, i thought my circulation was gonna cut off!”

you both burst into laughter, walking a little slower now as you shared the moment. “i was just making sure you didn’t fall off the ride.” you joked. daniela laughed lightly, looking down at you. “yeah, right,” she said, still grinning. “i think i’m the one who was keeping you from flying off the coaster with that tight ass grip.”

you sucked your teeth playfully, the conversation dying down. leaving the two of you to walk in a comfortable silence.

as you got closer to the food stands, the scents of sizzling, sweet, and savory foods hit you all at once. your stomach gave an eager rumble, instantly reacting to the aromas drifting through the air.

“babe, it smells so good over here,” you said, your voice almost wistful as your mouth began to water. daniela let out a soft hum of agreement, her eyes scanning the stalls. “i know, right?” she replied, already looking hungry.

“oh my god! we have to get one,” you pointed at the stall that had “funnel cakes” in big, bold red letters. “it’s basically a requirement at the fair.”

daniela laughed, her eyes practically glowing. “oh, 100%. but like, extra powdered sugar,” she grinned, already picturing the perfect funnel cake in her head. “i want it to look like a snowstorm.”

“you’re gonna be in a sugar coma by the time we’re done.” you said to her, chuckling.

“worth it.” she said, glancing at the stand. “but damn baby, this line’s mad long.”

you shrugged, already stepping toward the back of the line. “it’s okay, i’ll wait. you can go mess with the claw machines or something.”

she gave you a look, raising an eyebrow. “you sure?” she asked, taking out a 50 dollar bill from her back pocket after you gave her a nod of approval. “i’ll win you a stuffed animal.”

“only if it’s a giant bear.” you teased, taking the money from her hand.

“say less.” she grinned, pecking your lips before walking off toward the claw machines that weren’t too far away.

finally, after what felt like 13 years, you were 3rd in line to get your funnel cake. not like you were counting, but it definitely took longer than expected. looking around, you didn’t see daniela anywhere, so you figured she was still messing with the machines.

when you got your funnel cake; extra powdered sugar, just like she asked. you made your way over to where the claw machines were. and then you saw it.

daniela, laughing—no, giggling way too hard with some girl who was clearly flirting with her. the girl’s hand was casually resting on daniela’s shoulder, and they were definitely way too into whatever was going on. the way daniela’s head tipped back, eyes sparkling… you felt this weird, hot twist in you stomach.

feeling that familiar annoyance rise up, even though you knew you had no reason to be mad. she was allowed to laugh, right? but the way she was acting with this girl made you feel like you were just… there. holding the funnel cakes like some kinda afterthought.

you tried to brush it off, but it was hard. that stupid, jealous feeling in the pit of your stomach wouldn’t go away. you gripped the plate a little tighter, walking over to her with more force than you intended.

as you got closer, you noticed the girl holding a plushie, a giant, stuffed unicorn. and then it clicked. daniela was the one who’d won it for her.

“you having fun?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual, but it came out a little sharper than you meant.

daniela turned around, her face lighting up when she saw you. “yn! look! i won her the unicorn!” she said, holding it up, proud as hell.

the girl beside her giggled. “seriously, she’s amazing at this. i’ve never seen anyone get it on the first try.”

you forced a smile, your eyes narrowing a little. “yeah, looks like she’s really good at it.”

daniela didn’t seem to notice your tone, beaming as she looked from the girl to you. “i know, right? i’ve got mad skills. gotta teach you my ways.”

you nodded, still holding the funnel cake in one hand, but now you were just waiting to get out of there. Was she always this touchy with random girls? you couldn’t stop the thought from running through your head.

“here dani, thought you’d want this before it gets cold.” you said a little harsher than you wanted to.

daniela took the plate, but the smile she gave you felt a little off. as if she was trying to gauge if you were mad or not. and honestly? you were.

“is something wrong..?” she finally let out after examining your tone and facial expressions.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you turned, starting to walk toward the car, your steps maybe a little too quick, a little too angry.

daniela hesitated for a second, glancing back at the girl, “hey, i’ll follow you back later, okay?” she stated, then followed after you.

“bro, slow down!” you heard your girlfriend yell from behind you.

you didn’t slow down, your mind racing, and your jaw clenching at her words. you didn’t want to explain it, didn’t want to seem petty. so instead, you kept walking, arms crossed tightly in front of you.

“come on, don’t walk off like that. what’s going on?” she questioned, slightly jogging so she could be closer to you.

“nothing’s wrong, daniela. just tired,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your voice was tight.

“uh-huh.” her voice was softer now, but you could hear the concern. you didn’t know if you wanted her to chase you down or leave you alone. either way, you were pissed.

when you reached the car, you slammed the door a little harder than you meant to.

the latter slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind her (way softer than you did). she tossed the funnel cake onto the dashboard, its powdered sugar already threatening to spill, and then just stared at you. the silence between you two was thick, and suffocating. waiting for something to break it.

you shifted in your seat, unable to handle the tension. “the fuck are you doing? drive.” you muttered, your gaze fixed on the windshield.

daniela didn’t move, her eyes still locked on you, unfazed. “i’m not driving until you tell me what’s up with you.” she said, her voice low but firm.

you let out a sharp breath, refusing to meet her gaze. “i’m fine.” you muttered, staring out the window.

she raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “you’re fine?” she repeated, her tone flat. “okay, cool. then tell me why the fuck you’re acting like I just killed your dog.”

you stayed quiet, jaw clenched, your eyes still glued to the window. you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to explain the frustration building up inside you.

daniela's patience wore thin, and her voice rose slightly. "oh, so now you're just gonna ignore me?" she snapped. "fine. don't say shit, but if you're gonna act like this, you can get out and walk."

you didn't respond, but you could feel the anger starting to boil. you were pissed, but you didn't want to yell. silence felt safer.

"no?" she barked. "then get in the fucking backseat."

daniela heard the scoff as you made your way toward the back, but what she didn’t see was the smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. you could already tell where this was headed, and while it wasn’t exactly the healthiest choice right now, it was clear that you both needed to let off some steam.

soon, the blonde joined you in the backseat, her hand tenderly gripping your waist, pulling you onto her lap. her slender fingers found their way to your neck, harshly guiding your lips to meet hers in a searing kiss. the intensity of her anger fueling a primal need. her body pressed against yours, kissing you in a rough manner.

the car fills with the sound of your bodies shifting, fabric rustling, and harsh breaths as you both grapple for control. daniela’s grip on your waist tightens, her fingertips digging into your skin, while your hands tangle in her hair, pulling roughly.

she broke the kiss to speak, "you always do this, you know. you always shut down and refuse to talk.” she punctuated each word by grinding you a little harder against her thigh, the denim of her jeans rubbing against the thin fabric of your safety shorts.

you whimpered at the friction, tangling your hands in her curly hair, while you bucked your hips on her leg, needing more.

as daniela’s words fade into the background, you can't help but focus on the sensation of her leg between yours, the friction sparking a fire within you. you grind against her harder, the heat building between your legs, and you let out a soft moan, your head falling back against the seat.

daniela’s hand leaves your waist, trailing down your thigh, her fingers brushing against your inner leg, teasingly close to where you need her most.

you can feel the heat of her hand, her fingers inching closer to your center, your body aching for more. you lift your hips slightly, silently begging for her to touch you there, to quench the growing flame inside you. your breath hitches as her fingertips finally graze your mound through your shorts, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

daniela’s fingers find the edge of your shorts, her touch dancing along the hem. she leans in, her breath hot on your neck as she whispers, "Is this what you want?" her fingers tease, dipping slightly beneath the fabric, but not enough to satisfy the growing ache. you let out a soft, frustrated sound, arching your hips upwards, trying to encourage her to go further.

your body aches for more, your hips grinding against her leg, seeking friction and release. her fingers continue to tease the edge of your shorts, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, yet never quite giving you the satisfaction you crave.

"you want it, don't you?" her fingers slip further under your shorts, tracing the edge of your panties. you can feel the heat of her hand, fingers inching closer to where you need her most. "tell me," she breathes, her lips brushing against your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. "tell me you want it."

your hips move with the rhythm of her hand, pushing against it, seeking more. "yes," you whisper, your voice hoarse with desire, "I want it."

“too bad.” she says, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine as she slowly pulled her hand away, leaving you empty and aching.

your whimper of protest was audible as she withdrew her touch, the loss of her hand making you press harder into her thigh for friction. “now you wanna make noise huh?” Her voice was a husky purr, full of tease.

she watched you with a heated gaze, her eyes flicking down to where you were still pressed against her thigh, seeking relief. she spread her legs slightly, allowing you more room to grind against her. “you're so desperate for it, aren't you?”

you could feel the frustration building up inside you, your moves becoming more urgent against her thigh. “stop being an asshole and fuck me already!' you said desperately, your nails digging into her shoulders.

the latina rolled her eyes in exasperation at your demands, but she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. “you're so demanding” she remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

with a swift movement, daniela lifted you off her lap and maneuvered you into a new position. “hands and knees” she commanded, guiding you into place. the cool leather against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat emanating from her body as she positioned herself behind you.

She hiked up your skirt, pulling your shorts and underwear down, revealing your bare bottom to the cool night air. she ran a hand over the curve of your backside, then, without warning, she delivered a sharp slap to your left cheek.

you yelped at the sudden contact, your body jolting forward. the pain quickly morphed into pleasure as she began to massage the reddened skin. “so sensitive,�� she commented, her fingers drifting between your legs to tease your wet folds. “and soaking wet.”

she rubbed the evidence of your arousal against your thigh before aligning herself behind you again. “spread your legs wider” she ordered, her voice low and demanding. you complied, feeling the cool air against your most intimate area.

she pulled down her jeans and moved her fingers to your hips tightly. “you want me to fuck you like this, don't you?' she growled, pressing herself against you. “in the backseat of my car like a common whore.”

you arched your back provocatively, pressing against her boner teasingly. “then fuck me like one,” you challenged breathlessly, casting a sultry glance over your shoulder. “show me how well you can handle the slut in the backseat.”

her breath caught in her throat at your bold words. “such filthy words coming from that pretty mouth..” she retorted, pulling her boxers down. and without warning, she plunged inside you, making you gasp loudly. she bit her lip at the feeling of your cunt around her, starting a steady rhythm, she gripped your hips harder. “you’re not so tough now, are you?”

you moaned loudly, the sound bouncing off the car walls. “shut up and keep fucking me.” you argued back, pushing back against her to meet her thrusts. the force of her movements made the car rock, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

your moans grew louder and more desperate as she continued to pound into you, one hand moving to grip your hair roughly. “oh- fuck— god, dani!—don't stop!'"

daniela's other hand reached around to rub your clit, her fingers pressing hard against the sensitive nub as she fucked you mercilessly. your body shook with the force of her movements, your legs trembling on the seat.

the taller’s face was contorted with pleasure, her jaw clenched as she tried to muffle her own moans. “damn it…you're so fucking tight.” she groaned, her hips jerking forward erratically.

pleasure clouded dani’s mind, and she delivered a hard smack to your ass, the enjoyable pain making you moan and hang your head low.

“s-shit!” she screamed, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back. She pounded into you even harder, her other hand smacking your ass repeatedly.

she hissed in your ear, her breath hot and heavy, “you love it don't you? you always take me so well,” she kisses and sucks on your neck, “just obsessed with this dick, right?” trailing her tongue over a spot on your shoulder, teasing it before sinking her teeth in gently. a giggle escapes her lips as your startled gasp fills the air.

she continued, each thrust accompanied by a filthy phrase, “that’s right, take it—take every inch. you're such a good little slut...” her whimpers sounded like music to your ears. “s-so wet—so tight...does it feel good? does my cock feel good in your cunt?”

you arched your back even more, pressing yourself against her as she filled you completely. “y-yes. dani…” you blubbered, your words slurring with pleasure, 'it—it feels so good n’ d-deep!”

daniela gripped your hair tighter, slamming into you with all her force. “shit…that’s right, baby... take that big dick... show me how much you can handle...” your body trembled uncontrollably, your moans turning into screams of pure ecstasy as your hands clawed the leather seats.

the windows of the car fogged up as the vehicle rocked violently with each thrust. daniela's sweat dripped onto your back as she drove into you relentlessly. “listen to those filthy noises you're making…so pretty..”

your moans grew louder, more urgent, as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “fuck! dani i-i'm gonna cum!” you screamed, your body convulsing as a powerful orgasm ripped through you.

daniela's thrusts became erratic, her hips jerking forward as she chased her own climax. “holy shit yn, imma put a baby in you, gonna’ fill you up so good...” She groaned, her body shaking as she came hard, her juices flooding your already overflowing hole.

she collapsed on top of you, her breath coming in heavy pants. 'fuck...that was so good.” she murmured, still slowly thrusting through her aftershocks, her hand possessively resting on your stomach.

after a moment, daniela slowly pulled her length out of you, a string of your mixed fluids following. she watched hungrily as your swollen, pink folds slowly closed around the absence of her length.

you flopped back onto the car seat, your legs hanging limply over the edge. your breath came in shallow pants, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “fuck dani…”

daniela chuckled at your exhausted state, “answer me, yeah? you ready to talk about your problem now that i’ve fucked the brains out of you?”

she waited for a response, her eyebrow raised. but you could only manage a weak, breathless whimper. daniela smirked, satisfied with your silence. 'i'll just wait…" she noted, pulling up her underwear and jeans, not bothering to zip them up again.

daniela settled in beside you, casually draping your exhausted legs over her lap. her fingers absently kneaded your tender ass cheeks, relishing the subtle bruises forming there—the physical map of her passionate assault.

she smirked, enjoying the view of your thoroughly ravaged body sprawled out next to her. "looks like my princess is gonna need a few more minutes before she can form words again."

head so good she a honor roll 😋 finally dropped i hope this feels like playboi carti dropping an album 🙏🙏 ngl i forgot reader had a skirt on still so 😅

#starvrse #daniela avanzini #daniela x reader #katseye x reader #katseye smut #daniela smut #g!p daniela #kpop smut #gg smut #x female reader #daniela x female reader #kpop fanfic #katseye

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cringefortress2 · 3 days ago

Text

Finished reading the comics

Gonna cry so hard tonight you can't even imagine

I love everything about how it's done, knowing how little resourses they had. Gonna leave some spoiler thoughts ahead

(old artwork just to make this post a bit more presentable)

Sad that demo literally got no screen time, but I'm happy that he'll be living his best life. Love that he's still living with his ma and eyelander. Love those little details with him and sniper hanging out together, seems like they got a bit closer wich is cool even in a friendly way. But i still feel kina robbed (not blaming this on the creators of the comics though. they really did a great job not only finishing the "big plot", but also managing to at least a bit show us the future of all the characters)

Love the way scout turned out. I always hated him as a person, but now he's kinda..grown? He now takes responsibilities and learns that world doesn't spin around him. And it breaks my heart to realise he only has like about 8 years left to spend with his family until the "scout's death date".

Love how spy, that always seemed the most emotionally "grown-up" still finds a lesson to learn and to change for the loved ones. I love how they showed us his face and not pyro's. Spy hiding his face is a portrayel of him not really trusting people around. So seing him without his mask shows that maybe slowly, but he manages to start opening to the people that he cares about. And hopefully one day he'll finally be able to say out loud that he's scout's father. But it can easily stay off screen

Love Merasmus. I always loved his goofy interactions with soldier and mercs. It always was obvious he'll be trolled for the rest of his life. But I really love that he had at least some time to gain self-esteen, other's respect. And love that at the end he can stay with at least somebody (talking about his roommate Tom Jones, but also soldier I guess). It's silly. And I just love that not everyone has to survive for a happy ending. That's the TF2 vibe in general

And of course I really love Zhanna and Soldier arc. Love them so much and so happy that they got the screen time they deserved. Don't know how to express it, just seeing their emotions, love they show to each other, their kids. Not a big fan of the "And then they married and had kids" trope, but here it feels so sincere. They stayed chaotic and stupid. Love it

Oh, and also Saxton and Maggie's final scene... I love it. Can't put it into words in English since it's already pretty hard for me to translate most of my ideas, so here i'll just leave it be

ALSO I love a lot of things and details about the main plot, but I'm afraid it'll take me a bit too much time to wright all my thoughts about it so to make things short:

I love how they managed to portrait the "eye for an eye" and pointless revenge in here. Through the covers of the chapter. through emotions, moments, the whole concept

Love the fact that mercs are literally the loosers of a big company that didn't even get payed enought without even knowing it. They veren't supposed to play an important role. Yet they did. Just like the game itself did in real life. I love it.

And also of course huge thanks for the artists. This comics was one of the most detailed ones. Huge, a lot of pages, great colors. Maybe it's hard to get used to the new style (especially since some of the characters are reeeaally different from the previous chapters), but i'm glad to see it and see how much time and effort was put in it.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 comics

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wandascosmic · 1 day ago

Note

Could you write just a cute fic where Wanda and reader do a bunch of autumn season activities. Like Wanda loves to bake so she makes some halloween themed desserts with the help of reader (who in reality just makes a mess and eats all the ingredients).

Wanda would also probably be the type to just want to take a walk because she likes seeing the trees that change color, and of course reader wouldn’t listen when Wanda told her to dress warm so Wanda sacrifices her scarf or hat or both for her to wear instead.

Then for halloween all the avengers could dress up in costumes to hand out candy to the kids, and reader would convince Wanda to do a couples costume.

autumn appreciation (request)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: in which you and your girlfriend make the most of the wonderful autumn season.

word count: 965

tags: unedited, fluff, domesticity, idiots baking together, our favorite couple going for a walk, couples costume!!!, kids trick or treating at the avengers compound, we love halloween so much

“Hey, Nat, have you seen Wanda?” you ask the assassin in the compound.

Nat shrugs. “I’m pretty sure she’s making ghost cookies, pumpkin cookies, and a witch-shaped cake on a broom. Which is odd because couldn’t she just make a self-portrait–”

“Got it, thanks Nat!” you cut her off, running in the direction of your girlfriend.

Stopping in the kitchen, you grin at the sight before you. Wanda was in deep focus, mixing a bunch of cake batter in various bowls, trying her best to bake to perfection. However, she was covered in flour, food coloring, and every baking ingredient you could think of had somehow stained her apron.

“Witchy,” you greet, walking over towards her.

“Y/N!” Wanda’s eyes light up before you as she makes her way over, giving you a tight hug before you could protest.

“Wands,” you say, as Wanda refuses to let go.

“Hm?” Wanda hums.

“You’re covered in every baking ingredient in America,” you say, snickering.

Wanda gasps, immediately letting go and seeing your shirt stained with everything that was on her apron. “I’m so sorry, detka! I’ll go get you a new shirt and change this apron– I didn’t even realize–”

“Wands, don’t worry,” you cut off. “You’re not really baking if you’re not covered in head to toe in flour and confectioner’s sugar.”

Wanda grins in response.

“Besides, I came over here to help you, since it looked like fun and I haven’t seen you yet today,” you reassure.

“Oh!” Wanda says excitedly. “Yes, that would be so much fun. Okay, so I need some help with the ghost cookies since the frosting is a little tricky cause it’s a different kind than the pumpkin ones, so let’s do that!” Wanda grabs your hand and begins to lead you to the kitchen.

You grab a measuring cup and start getting to work per Wanda’s instructions.

Two hours later, you and Wanda are still hard at work.

“Detka, I think the kitchen is even messier with you than when I started. And that’s saying something since it looked like a flour bomb had gone off in front of me,” Wanda giggles.

“Hey, you put me to work, woman,” you say, grabbing a piece of cookie dough and munching on it.

“And you’ve mostly just eaten our ingredients.”

“You put candy in front of me, you can’t expect me not to eat it,” you shrug. “Plus, we’re basically almost done now! We’ve just got to put everything in the oven.” You grin. “What do you say to your wonderful girlfriend?”

“Don’t eat all the marshmallows next time?” Wanda retorts with her arms crossed.

You give her a look, causing Wanda to finally let her smile shine through.

“Fine, thank you, I love you,” Wanda gives you a kiss.

“I love you too, my grumpy Sokovian witch.”

And by the end of the day, every treat you and Wanda had worked so hard on has been eaten by a member of the compound.

*** “Baby,” Wanda shakes you lightly on the couch as you sleep on top of her chest.

“Hm?” you hum sleepily.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Wanda says.

“Why?” you ask, looking at Wanda confusedly. “We rarely take walks.”

“That’s why we should start!” Wanda responds. “I want to see the leaves change color, please,” Wanda stretches out the last syllable and gives you a pleading look.

“Fine,” you agree reluctantly.

“Thank you!” Wanda says, giving you a kiss. “I’m gonna grab my coat, you grab yours too since it’s cold.”

But, of course, you don’t listen to your incredibly smart girlfriend.

Two minutes into your walk, in which Wanda’s already gushed about seven yellow trees, eight red trees, and five orange trees, you’re completely freezing, and trying your best to hide your shivers.

But, of course, Wanda notices.

And silently, Wanda wraps her scarf around your neck and gives you her hat, pulling you into your arms as you continue your walk down the beautiful trail.

***

“Wanda, come on, it’ll be fun!” you argue, the morning of Halloween.

“I don’t know,” Wanda says reluctantly as you show her the peanut butter and jelly costume you had bought for the two of you. Wanda was going to be the jelly, of course.

“Please, witchy?” you give her your best pleading look to which Wanda’s incapable of saying no to.

“Fine,” Wanda agrees. “But you owe me,” she says, grabbing the costume and going into the bathroom to change.

“You got it,” you agree, yelling past the door.

The kids love yours and Wanda’s costume, every single child who’s rang the doorbell and said trick or treat has pointed out your costume, making Wanda blush every time.

“Trick or treat!” the last group of kids said in unison as Steve opened the compound door.

“It’s the Avengers!” one of them remarked.

“You guys are so cool,” another one said.

“Hey, you guys are the best couple!” a girl, about five years younger than you pointed at you and Wanda. “I love you guys so much.”

“Aw, we love you,” you respond, giving her a few extra pieces of candy as well as her friends.

The kids take a few pictures with a couple of you, and you wave as they leave, “Have a great evening!” you call out.

Closing the door, Steve turns to you all, “I think we’re good for tonight, goodnight everyone,” he says, heading off in the direction of his room.

You turn to Wanda with a grin. “So, wasn’t the costume worth it?”

“I look ridiculous,” Wanda retorts. “But, unfortunately, anything for you, detka.”

“I’ll return the favor next year,” you tell her with a kiss.

“You better,” Wanda says, wrapping her arms around your waist as you both head off to bed together.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wandamaximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel mcu #mcu #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #anon #answered asks #wandascosmic answers

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suckerforthisshit · 1 day ago

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1) I don't even know. Many are really cool, perhaps favorite one is when Near meets Mello eye on eye

2) I don't care. Just not to much uncanny. Personality is more important. (I would hate it anyways. My personal space wounded)

3) Pft, no one knows. Probably a long period because I wouldn't use it, would study it perhaps and keep it as a secret

4) Damn I have Hogwarts AU with Mello, Near, Matt, L, Misa and more side characters I created and added in death note universe. But I can't say it's Harry Potter universe completely because many things are changed.. I don't know. Wait that's not even anime.. Maybe persona five or something. They'd be fun in monster. Chasing Johan Liebert. I also imagined them in Cyberpunk world, as different creatures... Just- don't ask. Even couple of ferrets.

5) "I fly a helicopter with intuition."- L Lawliet scene

6) I'll say a manga cover, because I am not an anime fan. 8th manga cover with Mello sitting on sofa. Magnificent

7) Mello. Once he had a notebook. Although it's debatable

8) First L's. But nothing hit like Mello's death. I was so mad on Near for his reaction. Later on, my rage calmed down in the last act

9) Well now.. that's.. a list. I can't even chose one truly. But let's say generally, for Mello it's hard rock, bit of blues rock with metal tones, for Near it'd be electronic music, bit ot house (no pop). Matt is classic rock and punk rock. L is indie. But this all is just a vibe, not what these characters would listen to. For example in my interpretation Mello loves classical

10) Matt 100%

11) Haven't read manga for a long time, I don't remember all details. (I got driven in my own fictions and fantasies, stories of these characters rider then sticking to manga) but what really shocked me, obviously was L's sudden death, and last scene of Near eating chocolate really redirected me to some future decisions

12) Matt with lemurs

13) Meronia, other ships of my oc characters with original ones. Matt x Zoya, L x Etta. Near x Chris. Mello x Messy.. doesn't matter. No one knows them anyways

14) Naomi Misora

15) Some weird mix of all L, Mello, Near and Matt. Mello's intensity, Near's calmness and introversion, L's personality, Matt's style and laid-back behavior

16) "The one who doesn't win a game is just a loser"

17) Did Mello ever actually care about Near in manga, was his death out of his principles and 'giving up on himself', as he accepted to never actually be able to defeat him. Or actually something else, as sort of sacrifice for Near's sake

18) You mean if I was to choose the color that fits death note manga set it'd be something deep dark red or gray, black. If you ask if I was in series and one manga cover was made for me, it'd be a deep eggplant purple or dark grayish blue color

19) Something dark, black loosen dress, black aviator hat.. dark red-purple lipstick in 20s (previous century) style

20) normal, or ketchup

21) none

22) Won't even start with theories. Many

23) I won't be boring and say Mello and Near's interaction (although it's most true) , but L and Light had fun dynamic

24) Mello and Misora. Misa was fun, sometimes overdressed. Matt was fun

25) Arc two, Near hit me hard. I instantly liked him and started thinking up my own stories

26) I mean, I'll forever repeat that one moment of Mello's death as worst thing ever to happen. Near in third arc (the separated manga) was very depressed

27) I can't. Nah, no energy

28) Uhhh... Mello sitting on couch, or Mello holding a skull

29) idk

30) Near

Favorite chapter/episode?

If you had a Death Note, what would you want your Shinigami to look like?

How long do you think you could get away with hiding a Death Note?

If your favorite character weren’t in Death Note, what anime/manga do you think they would thrive in?

A scene that makes you laugh.

Which is your favorite opening?

Your favorite kira?

The death that affected you the most.

What song(s) fit the vibe of your favorite character?

A character you would hang out with irl.

What moment surprised you the most?

What is a fanwork (edit, fic, art, etc.) that you still think about to this day? (Pls link to the original!)

Favorite ships?

What character do you think you look the most like?

Which character’s personality do you relate to?

A line from the series that stuck with you.

A question that was never answered, but you wonder about all the time.

If Death Notes came in different colors, what color would yours to be?

What would be your staple kira catching outfit?

Favorite potato chip flavor?

A Death Note fanwork that you’ve made and are proud of.

A favorite Death Note theory.

Your favorite interaction.

Who do you think had the best style?

At what point did you fall in love with Death Note?

Saddest moment for your favorite character.

Lay out the plot of Death Note using only emojis.

Favorite official art.

Favorite Death Note Spin off media.

A character that needs to be mentioned more.

#death note #:P

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burrowdarling · 1 day ago

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Home With You

Summary: You and Joe head back to your hometown to spend the holiday with your parents.

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: None, just some holiday fluff :)

Note: Hi all! This was requested by some anons and @beautifultragedyexpert so I combined them into this one fic. Some fluffy holiday Joe on game dey!

Word Count: 2k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

There was something so nostalgic about Christmas in your hometown. The Main Street is fully decorated in lights, bows on the lamp posts, the town tree illuminated with lights of all colors in the middle of the park. It was only around 6pm, but the streets were already beginning to disperse from all of the early travelers. The soft flurry of snow was a nice touch to your reminiscing, adding to the scene in front of you.

You hadn’t been here for the holidays in quite a bit, having mainly spent them with Joe and his family in Ohio. Your parents would come out to visit, but it felt like this was the right year to be home. In the fast-paced hustle of the season, it was nice to slow down and breathe surrounded by something familiar.

Joe had never been to your hometown, leaving him to chuckle at how you were excitedly pointing things out from the passenger seat. Your small town felt like a stark contrast to the city Joe had grown up in. There was so much you were dying to show him about where you grew up, reveling in the moment by pointing out your favorite shops or restaurants as you drove past with a promise to explain more later. There was a feeling of your childhood laid out around you as Joe drove the same streets you once used to, unsure of where you would end up when you got older. It was healing to be able to tell your younger self that you were happy with the one you loved, coming home felt like a reunion with the little you.

“What are you thinking about over there, babe?” Joe asked, reaching a hand out to strike your thigh before giving it a light squeeze. The gesture offering you a feeling of comfort as you pulled yourself out of your thoughts for a brief moment.

“Just how content I am with the life we have together. If you had told me years ago that I’d one day be driving back here with the love of my life to spend the holidays together, I would’ve asked if you were dreaming” you said with a light laugh.

“I love you so much sweetheart, I wouldn’t want to do this life with anyone else but you” Joe said looking over to you with a look that showed that he meant every word he said. You felt your cheeks heat, having a hard time fully taking in his words. Joe could be extremely heartfelt, but It wasn’t always easy for you to process the full gravity of them.

You gave him a small smile as you turned towards the window, watching the world go by. The quiet streets you once found to be boring, offering you a feeling of solace from the busy life you’ve come to know. You could feel happy tears begin to well in your eyes, truly feeling at peace with coming home.You were sure it was going to be a special trip home.

You had finally made it to your parents house, pulling up the driveway like you used to and everything still as you left it. You both hopped out of the car, Joe making quick work to unload your bags while you went up to the door, giving a brief knock before entering. Your mom was in the kitchen finishing up dinner while you dad was setting the table.

You and Joe greeted them both with hugs and smiles, Joe immediately being swept into football talk with your dad. You shook your head, throwing a knowing look at your mom who’s face mirrored your own. You made your way to the kitchen to help her finish up any loose ends. You helped her get everything set at the table, ready to dive into a good home cooked meal.

“I was thinking we could decorate the tree after dinner, we wanted to wait for you like old times” you mom said as she scooped some food onto her plate. A wide grin broke out over your face, looking over to your mom.

“Yeah we’d love to, that sounds great” you said, looking over to Joe whose eyes were already on you. His look was full of love, resting a hand on your thigh giving you three squeezes as a way to say ‘I love you’. You all engaged in conversation for the remainder of dinner, catching up on each other's lives and what has changed here since you were last home.

You all cleaned up after dinner and made your way to the living room where the fire was going and the tree was lit, waiting to be decorated. Your mom started to open all of the different boxes of ornaments, Joe getting a kick out of the ones you made as a kid.

“You were quite the artist in your childhood, huh” Joe chuckled as he found a particularly ‘crafty’ ornament, having drawn your family as a bunch of stick figures next to a ‘Picasso level’ christmas tree. You took it from him to inspect your work, holding it out to admire it like an art critic. Your parents laughed at your actions, getting a kick out of the scene unfolding in front of them between you two.

“Hey, I tried my best, okay? At least you can tell what it is” you said as Joe took the ornament from you and placed it front and center on the tree. “Gotta display the art properly since it’s so museum worthy” Joe laughed as he spoke. Your parents watched the two of you, giving you loving looks at your dynamic.

You all continued to decorate, Joe lifting you up onto his shoulders to palace the star on top of the tree. You stood back to admire your work, Joe slinging his arm over your shoulders and leaving down to place a kiss on top of your head.

After decorating the tree and some small talk in front of the fire, you and Joe had retired up to bed, saying your goodnights to your parents. In mentioning everything being the same, your room was no different. It was as if time stopped in here, your parents leaving everything as you had it.

Your walls were still adorned with band posters, though there were far less than there used to be. You would’ve deemed yourself to be quite the fangirl back in the day, never being one for sports until you met Joe. You preferred to stay in listening to music, drawing, or diving into your books. Your bookcase was still full of everything you used to read, instantly bringing you back to the countless late nights you would stay up late finishing a good read. You had a small desk covered in your old artwork you used to work on, all of your different mediums sorted along the edge. Your queen bed was pushed into the corner of the room full of pillows and blankets, giving a cozy vibe to it. You still had your lights up around the edge of your ceiling, plugging them in to see if they still worked and they had. Being in here took you back to being in your safe place, having taken years to get everything how you wanted it.

Joe took in his surroundings, being able to get a glimpse into the younger you and put a image to how you described yourself when you first started dating. He walked to your bookcase, poking at your different books and knick knacks that you had littered throughout it.

“So, what do you think? Kinda wild that they kept everything the same huh?” you asked, watching Joe take in your room.

“Your room is adorable, we’ll have to get a poster of me to add to your shrine of celebrities on your wall” Joe joked, gesturing to your countless posters of different bands or artists. “Seems like you had a type though, weird that you went for the football player.”

“Hey, you know I had no idea you played when I first met you. You act as if i was always going to football games every weekend” you said, feigning fake offense at his words.

“I know, baby. You were my little bookworm in college, I always knew I could come home to you and your nose would be buried in a book. I did appreciate when you’d come to my games though, just like I do now.”

“I’m gonna be so honest and say that I think you’re the first boy I’ve brought in here” you said, feeling Joe come up behind you as his arms wrapped around your waist. The admission felt right to tell him, even if it would only feed his ego more.

“Somehow that makes this even more special that I get to be the first and last” Joe said, spinning you around and pulling you tighter into the hug. “What do you say we do a little christening then, hmm?”

You pulled back a bit giving him a light slap to his chest, “Joseph Lee, my parents are under the same roof” finding it hard to fight off a smile. He grinned back at you, bringing his hands up to your jaw to pull you back into his body, resting your foreheads against one another.

“We don’t have to go that far, but I do know that I want those lips on mine. We can be very teenager about it with a classic makeout” Joe said as he captured your lips in a slow kiss. You could feel things begin to heat up a little as he walked you backwards towards your bed.

You crawled backwards toward the headboard, Joe following you as you settled back into each other. It had been awhile since you guys had been able to really take things this slow and just enjoy exploring one another. With the busy season, it was nice to be with one another with no pressure for anything more. A smile crossed your lips at the thought, feeling Joe smile back into the kiss before locking your lips together again.

After quite the makeout session, you found yourselves tucked under the covers with your head resting on Joe’s chest. You felt yourself beginning to drift off until Joe spoke up.

“Do you ever think about what things would be like if we were just a normal couple?” he asked, the dark room giving him a sense of confidence to speak the words he;s been thinking about all night.

“Define normal because I feel like normal is pretty subjective” you laughed lightly, propping yourself up to get a better look at him.

“You know, the typical dates, sunday mornings, and holidays with family - everything that comes with a normal relationship. I know it can be hard to be with me, feeling like everything you do is scrutinized under a microscope and no air to breathe sometimes” Joe’s honesty gave you a pang of hurt in your chest at how he feels.

“Joey just because your job is abnormal doesn’t mean our relationship is. I love everything about you and that we get to still do things like this together. I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world, I would choose you in this life and every other” you spoke as you stroked his jaw softly, feeling him lean into your touch.

“You always know the right thing to say, thank you for being my person and choosing me everyday” he spoke as he gave you a quick kiss.

“Loving you is the easiest thing I do,” you said as you snuggled in closer to him. You were always home when Joe was around, being with your parents made the holidays that much more special.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine #nfl #boyfriend Joe burrow #girlfriend reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfiction #burrowdarling requests #asks open #send anons

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stvrnioloslvt · 2 days ago

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christmas bondage - matt sturniolo

genre: smut / t.w.: light bondage, unprotected sex

①

"baby, i need some help here!"

"coming, sweetheart."

you stood on your tiptoes, stretching as much as you could to put the star on top of the christmas tree. you held your breath as you tried to not fall on the decorative item, the colored lights reflecting on your tense facial features.

a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards your boyfriend's chest. he gently took the star from your hand, putting it on top without any difficulties. he placed a kiss on top of your head, chuckling at your annoyed huff.

"it's fine sweetheart, want to help me put the rest of the fairy lights on?"

you don't exactly remember how you ended up in this position, with matt's warm hands exploring your naked body, placing open mouthed kisses wherever his mouth could reach.

spread out for your boyfriend in the middle of the living room, you turned your head to the side, eyes reflecting the lights of your christmas tree. you shivered as matt's long digits spread your folds open, letting one finger travel from your opening to your clit, circling it a couple of times.

"mhm," he moaned, sucking a purple hickey on your neck, "so wet already."

you whimpered, hot flashes of need cursing through your veins, your thighs trying to push close as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. matt's hand grabbed your thigh, preventing you from trying to close your legs again, doing it all while he latched his mouth around your rigid peak, lapping at your nipple with need.

"matt," you cried out, fingers dipping in his soft hair. matt's lips left your breast with a last, harsh, suck, then he sat up, reaching behind his head to pull his shirt off. your breath stuck in your throat watching the show of lights and shadows dancing on your boyfriend's stomach, his tattoos gaining and losing color like it was magic. your eyes travelled south, to the waistband of his underwear sticking out of his pajamas pants, then to his prominent bulge pressing against the fabric. your mouth watered as you noticed a damp spot on his pants, his dick throbbing at the attention.

"you like what you see, sweetheart?" he asked, reaching inside a box. you watched confused as he searched for something in particular, whispering a soft "here it is" as soon as he found it.

"what are you doing?" you lifted yourself on your elbows, tilting your head to the side while your boyfriend toyed with the string of fairy lights in his hands. you saw him flicking the button on, the lights gaining life, illuminating the scene with sparks of red, purple and green all around.

matt's eyes flicked back to you, biting his lip to suppress a laugh at your perplexed face. he untangled gently all the knots that had formed, ending up with a few-meters long string.

"sit on your knees, pretty." he commanded, observing with a dark look in his eyes how you obeyed immediately. he shifted uncomfortably, his hard dick aching in his pants.

his eyes darted around your figure sitting so prettily for him, big doe eyes looking back at him with need and impatience written all over them.

"do you trust me?" he mumbled, lips grazing against yours. you nodded, too hypnotized by whatever was going on in the moment to properly respond.

"turn around. don't get up."

you did as he said, facing the sofa. matt's arms snuck around you, gentle hands holding your arms up and away from your body. you hissed as the cold string of lights touched your skin above your breasts, crossing on the back and coming back to the front, this time placed below your tits. you watched breathless as more and more fairy lights were wrapped around your arms, your center, down to your knees. matt's hands left momentarily the string, placing a hand on your chest and one on your back as he helped you lay with your cheek on the soft carpet, your ass in the air. finally, he placed your wrists behind your back, tying them together.

he stepped back, admiring his work of art: his beautiful girlfriend covered in lights, warm and dripping for him.

he hummed satisfied, rubbing his hands on your ass before tapping it lightly.

"can i go on or do you want me to stop?"

"go on," you begged, thighs flexing to try and release some of your frustration.

matt's hands grabbed your hips, pushing them against his own, letting you feel how hard he was.

"do you feel it, sweetheart? all of this just for you," he purred, hips grinding against your sopping pussy.

"more, please," you whined, wiggling your hips side to side. your boyfriend's hand left its place on your hip, his finger sliding along your core, gathering all your wetness.

"who made you this wet, hm?" he tantalized, massaging in slow, tight circles your clit. "so fucking pretty."

a blush crept up your cheeks at the otherwise innocent compliment if it weren't for the not-so-innocent position you were in, while your boyfriend tugged down his clothes, letting them pool at his knees.

"how bad do you want it?" he rasped, yanking the restraints digging at the skin of your wrists. you gasped, a drop of your own arousal dripping down your leg. matt eyes didn't miss it, immediately stopping it in its track with the tip of his dick, pushing it back up. you shuddered as you felt the trail of sticky precum on your thigh, moaning out loud as matt's tip separated your folds, rocking softly while waiting for your answer.

"so bad," you managed to choke out, trying to open your legs as much as the string lights let you, a silent invite for your boyfriend to push his dick forward further and let you grind on it.

"good girl."

he eased himself in you slowly, reveling in the feeling of your walls clenching around him, sucking him in.

"oh-god," you cried trembling in his hands, euphoria running through your veins making your head spin dizzy. you felt matt pull out slowly, just to slam his hips in you again.

"i- ngh- fuck," his hips set a frantic rhythm, rutting into you with desperation. the lights wrapped around you clanked as your body rocked with matt's thrusts, adding something new to the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet squelches of your soaking cunt.

your walls squeezed tighter around his length, your insides burning with the feeling of your orgasm approaching. matt's dick throbbed, tip leaking precum and pushing it inside you as his own climax threatened to crash over him at any given second.

"m-matt i- please-"

"yes yes yes- fuck! go on, baby, cum all over my cock."

something snapped inside you at his words, an intense feeling washing over you, leaving you a moaning shaking mess. with a last thrust your boyfriend came, pushing himself all the way in as his milky white cum spilled inside you, filling you up.

matt groaned satisfied as he sat back down, rubbing a comforting hand over your back.

"baby," he whispered, bending to get face to face with you, "are you okay? can you sit up?"

you hummed, eyes closed as you tried to recover from the bliss. matt's hands grabbed firmly your shoulders, pulling you up. he stood right in front of you, offering you his body as a pillar while he untangled and freed you from the colored lights. after he was done, he traced softly the red marks left by the string on your tender skin, bringing your hands to his lips to leave a loving kiss there.

"how about a bath? i'll massage all the sore points, does it sound nice?"

you smiled, nodding at your boyfriend who picked you up, taking you to the bathroom.

"never thought i'd be tied by some fucking christmas lights."

ficmas number 1 everybody! let me know if you liked it <3

love you all, bree ☾

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

taglist: @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn 🤍

#© stvrnioloslvt #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt x reader #matt x y/n #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #ficmas 2024 #bree's [sturniolo ficmas]

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nerdanel01 · 2 days ago

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rungs of gold (18+)

certain works of fan art have me thinking a little too hard about what piercings Emmrich may or may not have.

Emmrich x Gender Neutral Rook, lots of cock, genital piercings, jacob’s ladder piercing, smut implied at the end but not depicted

“That—that’s not—”

Rook’s tongue felt thick in their mouth; clumsy. The sight in front of them had rendered them inarticulate, and more than a little stupid, with a sudden, dizzy rush of heat and need.

The lines around Emmrich’s eyes deepened with amusement, and his mouth slanted fetchingly to the side.

“Yes, dear?”

The last two functioning brain cells in Rook’s head cast the incredulous words upon their tongue:

“That’s not part of your grave dowry.”

Because a grave dowry—as Rook understood it—was gold that Nevarrans took with them when they died. Rook had seen some of the undead thralls in the Necropolis, bangles of gold stacked along their wrists and ankles, just like the bracelets Emmrich wore nearly to his elbows.

But, with a shock that had nearly stopped Rook’s heart (but left other parts of their body clenching, deliciously, in anticipation)—when Emmrich had undressed in front of them for the first time, unfastened his trousers and pulled himself free, he had revealed certain jewelry that Rook could not possibly imagine any skeleton wearing from beyond the grave.

Rook had no idea how they would attach it.

“A keen observation,” Emmrich replied, his widening grin tugging crookedly at his words. “When I pass on, I won’t be able to take these particular adornments with me; they are exclusively for the admiration and stimulation of the living.”

Emmrich’s hand dropped between his slender hips, long fingers grasping loosely around his swollen arousal, already red and weeping. The ladder of golden barbells that ran along the underside of his shaft winked seductively at Rook as Emmrich ran his fingers over them. Really, Rook shouldn’t be surprised. Whyever should Emmrich not be dripping in gold from head to toe? Look at him: gorgeous, precious—perfect, even without the embellishments of the studs in his ears and the rings on his fingers (and the piercings along his cock, which Rook probably couldn’t pull their eyes away from if they tried.) But Rook still wants to layer him in golden pendants and ruby brooches until he shines exactly like the treasure he is.

That—and Rook would also very much like to climb naked into Emmrich’s lap, to feel all that gold pressing up against them.

Emmrich’s hazel eyes sparkled as he watched Rook’s gaze trace the movements of his hand.

“Darling Rook, if you like them so much, I will have the gold melted down into a bracelet, and ensure it is bequeathed to you after I am gone.” The laugh lines around the necromancer’s mouth deepened, though Emmrich did not make a sound beyond the shallow huffing of his breath, unsteady with lust. “A small token to help you remember me fondly.”

‘Fond’ was perhaps not the word Rook would use the memories such a token might recall to mind. But the idea of Emmrich’s genital piercings living a second life as a bracelet on their wrist humiliated them with a burning they admittedly did not totally despise. Swallowing, Rook drank in the sight before them and imagined what Emmrich would look like after he came—milky rivulets of his spend trickling between the gold barbells like beads of dripping pearls—

“Dear,” Emmrich began, then, his voice wavering, less sultry and far less sure of himself, “you seem a bit shocked—forgive me, I ought to have said something, not left it til the moment to reveal it to you. If it is too much…”

A dull whine from the back of Rook’s throat answered. “Not too much,” Rook managed to reassure him after finding their tongue, tearing their gaze away from Emmrich’s waist to meet his eyes. “Definitely good, I just…”

Rook’s eyes sunk back to Emmrich’s waist. Color heated their cheeks, and they asked:

“Can I touch?”

In the periphery of their vision, Rook saw Emmrich jerk his head—a sharp, emphatic nod of his head, yes—and Rook took a step forward, closing the space between them.

Hesitant—not for any lack of desire on their part, but out of a profound reluctance to hurt Emmrich—Rook groped gently along his shaft, tugging loose-fistedly along the hot swollen length of it, carefully not to pull too roughly on his piercings. But even that gentle touch left Emmrich stifling a satisfied groan in the back of his throat—and Rook matched that groan in kind, feeling the smooth, golden ball-ends of the piercings glide across their fingers, imagining what all that metal would feel like, dragging mercilessly inside of them.

Croaked, weakly, “Wow.”

Just like that, the crooked grin was back on Emmrich’s face—though now he surveyed Rook through eyes heavy lidded with desire, his breath catching unevenly as Rook continued to stroke him.

“I’m pleased you like it. I must admit, some partners have found it off-putting, in the past.”

Rook choked out a laugh. Honestly, it was taking all of Rook’s self control not to rip off their clothes and jump on it this instant, but they gathered that such a move would neither be wise nor entirely welcome. Still,

“That’s insane. It’s a huge turn on.”

Emmrich answered this declaration with a gasp of delighted disbelief. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Rook affirmed with an emphatic nod of their head, swiping slow, firm and insistent at the weeping, red head of his shaft. Told him:

“Emmrich, you’re gorgeous.”

—and felt their stomach flip and clench in excitement at the way Emmrich’s cock jumped in their hand at the words, bloodflooded and thick.

“How very fortunate I am that you think so.” Emmrich’s words came breathlessly, now; a faint blush was starting to spread across his cheeks. “Do you still want to…?”

Rook pulled on his cock, kissed his neck, kissed up to Emmrich’s ear.

“Yes,” Rook swore, pressing the words and their hot breath against the barely-there evening stubble on Emmrich’s neck. They could feel their own cheeks burning at the thought of the dirty talk perched on their tongue, felt a little shudder of arousal run through them when their mouth shaped the words against Emmrich’s skin:

“Yes, you’d better—

“It’d be cruel of you to display yourself like this in front of me if you weren’t going to fill me up after.” Emmrich didn’t answer. And Rook shrank in on themselves, already ready to apologize for pushing things too far—Emmrich was such a gentleman, they should have realized he wouldn’t want to be spoken to like that—when they felt Emmrich’s long fingers on their chin, tilting their face up to his and pausing only to groan a low, “oh, darling…” between their lips before he was crushing their mouths together in a kiss so passionate it bordered on the obscene.

#emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #emrook #dragon age fanfic

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majestyeverlasting · 2 days ago

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𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Daughter Reader

Summary For years, you’ve survived tethered to Joel’s side, haunted by the loss of your sister and scared to step outside of his shadow. So when he bonds with the girl he’s tasked to smuggle, it strains your complicated relationship—until the threat of losing him forces you to confront just how much he means to you [angst, fluff, 5.4k].

A/N This is some of my favorite prose I've written recently. Daughter!reader is a new dynamic for me, but it was such a rewarding writing experience. Thank you to the anon who sent this request in. I hope you all enjoy.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

It’s cold outside today. If the draft sneaking in through the windows isn’t enough to let on, the sky itself is an undeniable sign. There’s no blue, no clouds that can be distinguished from the next. The entire expanse is a pale white sheet. As if the heavens have decided to shield earth from its view because of how far it’s fallen.

Nevertheless, life in the Boston Quarantine Zone labors on. Day after soulless day, rain or shine. Like a well-oiled machine who’s battered parts of flesh and blood refuse to lay down and die.

The glass of the living room window is cool against your forehead as you gaze outside. Everything is dull. Brick, metal, concrete, and endless earthtones constitute the expanse of buildings that seemingly stretch for miles. However, after having explored every corner of this walled city, you know it’s finite. A mere portion of a much larger world trying to find its footing again.

The people walking on the sidewalks below look small from the height of your apartment. All seeming to move on a droning autopilot, clad in worn clothes that likely belonged to ten other people before them.

With a sigh, you step away from the window and plop back down on the couch. The coffee table is cluttered with stained, old papers and trinkets, but you reach for the stack of Polaroids you’d previously been flipping through. Each photo and caption transports you back to a past moment in time...

tea for two ♡ March 13, 2003

A day that seems closer than it actually is, now confined to a single, glossy frame. The white border has faded to beige and the picture itself no longer bears its original saturation. In it, you and Sarah are wrapped in each other’s arms, dressed like princesses for the tea party you invited her to.

You were her three-year-old shadow, and even though you got on her nerves half the time, she found it hard to say no to you. Everybody in the Miller household did.

lake day!!! July 4, 2003

A sunny day. You, Sarah, and Joel are squinting into the light but smiling, your backs to the lake. Later that night, according to Joel’s retelling, you cried because of the colorful, celebratory explosions bursting amid the night sky.

dad’s getting old (jk ily dad) September 26, 2003

Joel’s smile is shy as he sits at the kitchen table with a cone birthday hat on his head. Sarah was the one behind the lens while you clung to her leg, both you and Tommy making goofy faces in hopes of making Joel smile wider.

He turned thirty-six that day. By that evening, everything had changed. Not just because of the outbreak, but because Sarah, who had been a light in so many of the photos, was gone too. A few months after her fourteenth birthday, no less.

It feels strange being twenty-three now. An age she never got to see—

The faint metallic clinking of a belt being fastened prompts you to curiously stand to your feet. After setting down the photos, you saunter to the hallway, where there’s a straight view to Joel’s bedroom. The door is cracked, and warm lamplight pours out to light the end of the hall. With each step closer you take, the old, wooden floorboards creak.

When you make it to the door, you rap your knuckles against it a few soft times. There’s shuffling on the other side.

You knock again when there’s no response. “Dad?”

“What’s up?” he doesn’t say it in a clipped, annoyed way so you know he hadn’t heard your previous knocking.

“Can I come?”

He’s quiet for a beat. “I’m finishing up getting dressed. But yeah.”

Inside, the bed still isn’t made. He’s standing in front of the full body mirror leaning against the wall. The paint of the gold trim around it is peeling, revealing the dark aluminum beneath. The glass itself is a bit foggy with stubborn grime that refuses to be scrubbed away. And right in the middle, at the same height that Joel stands, is a sizable spiderweb crack that makes his face look fragmented unless he bends down or shifts to either the left or right.

Right now, he doesn’t seem to mind the distortion of his face, more interested in assessing his clothes. When you step up behind him, a little to the right, your entire body looks whole. Face and all.

His eyes briefly flick to you as he continues to button the rest of his olive colored shirt. When he’s finished, he sucks in his stomach and pulls up the waistband of his dark jeans to rest at a more comfortable place on his hips.

It isn’t until then that you notice a small portion of the back of his shirt is flipped up, the fabric thick enough to hold its place. You reach out to smooth it down. Joel hums in realization.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Yep,” you murmur. “I thought you were off today.”

Turning around and brushing past you, he sits in the accent chair to put on his boots. A grunt escapes him with the effort of leaning down. You watch as his thick, battered fingers fumble with the laces until they produce two neat bows. He sits back with a sigh when he’s done, running a hand through his fluffy, silvering hair.

“I’m meeting with Marlene,” he says. The way you frown tells him that’s not a good thing, or nearly enough information. “Tess will be there too. It’s looking like we might be able to get that car battery we need to set out for Tommy.”

You process that information with a slow nod. The idea of finding him feels elusive these days.

A few weeks ago, Marlene told Joel she knew a couple guys who could provide resources. At various points in the months prior, she claimed the very same thing. Every promise she made fell flat because those said contacts either died or backed out of the negotiation. Yet, Joel held out hope every time.

It used to be you who accompanied him whenever he went to meet with Marlene, but it’d gotten to the point where you couldn’t bring yourself to believe her or stand seeing her face.

But Joel still did. For the sake of his own conscience. For Tommy.

After standing from the chair, he fishes into his back pocket for a red cardstock meal card. When you reach out to take it from him, he doesn’t let go, instead opting to look directly into your eyes.

“Want you to meet us for lunch at the northern dining commons at noon. We should be done by then,” he says, waiting for you to nod so he knows you’re tracking.

“Don’t leave before then, alright? It’s getting crazier out there. Don’t know if it’s ‘cause summer’s coming or what.”

“I won’t,” you insist.

When you try to take the card again, he holds onto it just for the sake of coaxing a smile out of you. It doesn’t quite meet your eyes, but it’s enough to tie him over for now. He lets go of it just as you’re in the middle of pulling, and the lack of resistance makes you stumble backwards. The sound of amusement he huffs out earns him a light punch to the shoulder.

“I mean it, though.” He points a finger. “Don’t leave till it’s time, alright? We’ll fill you in on everything then.”

Rolling your eyes, you follow him back out into the living room. “I already said I wouldn’t.”

“Well, reiterating is my job.”

Those are the words he leaves you with before heading out the door.

A few hours later, when the clock strikes twelve, you’re eating at the dining commons alone. Anxiousness prickles beneath your skin. You soothe yourself as chatter and the clinking of silverware float up all around you…

Everything’s fine. Joel’s alright. Tess is alright. Just finish eating and go home.

•••

Sunset paints the sky that evening. The clouds that lingered all day have finally made way for an expressionist ombre of blue, pink, and orange. It's beautiful in a way that would’ve been worth photographing once upon a time.

All you can think about is the fact that Joel hasn’t returned.

A little past seven, voices arise in the hallway. They’re hushed and somewhat frustrated, one of them undeniably belonging to Joel. By the time keys hastily begin jingling in the door, you’re popping to your feet from the couch. A second later, it swings open with enough force that it hits the neighboring wall.

“Get inside,” Joel orders. You can’t see him from where you’re standing.

You can’t see anybody.

“I don’t have to keep listening to you,” quips a tight, youthful voice. “Whatever happened to stranger danger?”

“Move, Ellie,” Joel says. “Before I make you.”

A young girl wearing a backpack trudges into the apartment with a scowl. After looking around the bleak accommodation, her eyes settle on you. The air falls silent. You note the wispy flyaways escaping her short ponytail, the slight redness to her eyes like she’s been either crying or rubbing them.

Ellie sizes you up in return. You can see it in the calculated rove of her dark gaze, the way she squares her shoulder to match your guardedness.

She eventually whips her attention back to Joel. “Who the hell is she?”

“Told you I didn’t live alone.” That’s all he gives her before redirecting his attention to you. He seldom reveals the entirety of what he’s feeling in a given moment, but you can see the guilt weighing down on his shoulders. “I—”

“You missed lunch.”

He runs a heavy hand down his face. “I know.”

The girl looks between the two of you with owl-like attentiveness that borders on amusement. At least she wasn’t the only one having a shitty day. Outside, shouting voices arise in the distance. Glass bottles break.

“Dad. You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Ellie’s eyes widen at the revelation.

Joel doesn’t say anything because you’re staring daggers straight into his very being.

“I’m immune to the virus,” she speaks up. There’s a hint of pride in her tone, like she’s looking past the present to some undefined future in which she saves the world.

“He’s gonna take me to the people who can find the cure. Then you guys are gonna go find Timmy or whatever—Tommy.”

It’s an oversimplification, but Joel doesn’t have the energy to expound right now. Not when you look like you would lunge for him if it wasn’t for the girl.

•••

Later that night, he sees the first shove coming. Your eyes darken until you’re no longer able to constrain your frustration to a mere look. It frustrates you all the more when he doesn’t budge. So you do it again, pushing both your hands straight into his chest.

All he does is take a single step backwards to create distance, hands raised in surrender. The fact that he isn’t reacting makes more heat consume your face.

Until, finally, he grabs your wrists.

“Are you done acting like a child?” he asks.

“As soon as you quit treating me like one,” you bark. “All you do is give orders and break promises, and I’m supposed to keep following you around like a dog.”

“I don’t see any shackles.”

“Because it’s you,” you retort, attempting to pull away from his light hold. “You’re the shackles, the prison guard, and the key.”

Those words make him drop your wrists as if you’ve stung him with poison. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed and drops his head into his hands with a heavy sigh. The mattress creaks under his weight. In the new silence, you stand and stare at him as your breaths even out.

Neither of you are aware that Ellie has her ear pressed to the other side of the bedroom door, listening.

When he lifts his head, only then are you aware of how tired and worn down he looks. His hair is more disheveled than it was this morning. The same hair you used to playfully run your fingers through and litter with sparkly hair clips. Except now, his face is void of a smile.

“I’m sorry about lunch, alright?” His dark eyes search yours for any inkling of forgiveness. He knows he scared you. That’s what’s beneath your anger. “I didn’t know I was gonna get held up like that.”

Joel Miller was a lot of things, but a pushover wasn’t one of them.

If he really wanted to, he could’ve at least come to the dining commons to explain. Or ignore Marlene’s request entirely, and force her to find someone else to smuggle the girl. Even Tess had refused to involve herself in the escape plan because she feared it would be all risk and no reward.

“What happens if these guys turn out to be dead too?” You ask Joel, voice softer than before. “What if this is yet another exchange that falls through?”

He knows you have a point. He also knows he has a brother out there miles away who recently sent him a signal.

“If there’s a chance, I gotta take it,” he says. “And if we get out there and nobody’s waiting for us, we’re heading to Wyoming anyway.” He meets your gaze.

You swallow and blink in surprise. “Really?”

“I’m done waiting around for the right time,” he says, voice low but firm. “It’s never gonna come. Gotta forge it ourselves.”

He sounds sure. Right now, you could use something to believe in. And if nothing else, a change of scenery from the city walls you’ve been confined within for far too long.

•••

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

𝐈.

The Capitol Building is empty when you arrive, no sight of the men who were supposed to take Ellie and give you and Joel the supplies you need to carry on. For a while, the three of you linger hopefully on the inside, where grass grows through the chipped marble floors. The only people who eventually arrive are ridden with the virus, their rotting bodies infested with fungus from the inside out.

You promptly flee the scene after swallowing disappointment like a pill.

𝐈𝐈.

The front door of Bill and Frank’s house is unlocked when you arrive in the desolate suburbia. Dead grass and tall weeds constitute the yard. The flower beds out front have long wilted. That’s enough for you to know that they’re either dead or gone. Joel pushes into the house anyway, with you and Ellie trailing behind. Bill left a note behind. They’re dead. Ellie asks questions about them that Joel thoughtfully answers.

The three of you take turns showering, then leave.

𝐈𝐈𝐈.

By early August, the trio feels more like a unit, having been bound together by shared letdowns and long nights under the stars. Some days, you don’t know where you are until coming across specific landmarks or recognizable cliffs. You and Joel teach Ellie how to shoot because she wouldn’t stop begging. Most days, as you’re making progress towards Wyoming, it’s the two of you trailing behind Joel, who often shoots unreadable glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re keeping up.

Sometimes he lets down his walls to offer a small smile.

•••

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋

All around, tall trees stretch towards the sky, bearing vibrant leaves beginning to change colors. Every so often, a breeze rolls through and ruffles them. The same mourning dove has been calling out into the wind with no response in return. It’s a tune that filled the mornings of your childhood back when you were on the road to Boston with Joel. You hadn’t heard it much since.

Twigs and leaves crunch beneath your boots as you squat to lower your fingertips into the creek. The water is cool against your skin, and clear enough to see the rocks at the bottom. When you stand up, you startle at the sight of Ellie standing a few yards away. She takes a few apologetic steps back, almost tripping over herself.

Further away, Joel sits with his back propped against a tree as he reorganizes the contents of his backpack.

“Jesus, El,” you sigh, pressing a hand to your chest over your heart.

Ellie no longer seems sure of her reason for approaching you. There were times when she didn’t look her age—whether it be her stare or the way she carried herself—but this wasn’t one. Now, an air of self-consciousness surrounds her, like she��s caught between knowing nothing and everything all at once.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me,” she rushes out. There’s a pang of guilt when you realize she thinks you’re angry.

“No, it’s fine,” you insist, softening your tone. “I’ve just been in my head.”

She nods and feels more comfortable to step up alongside you.

“I’ve seen those pictures you’ve been looking at.” She continues when you don’t say anything, “Was that your sister?”

Neither you or Joel have brought her up, but your silence is an answer.

“What was she like?”

“I don’t remember much.”

Only bits and pieces. The larger gaps have been filled in by Joel over the years. He never talks about Sarah at length, but sometimes he’ll see something or you’ll make an expression that reminds him of her. That usually prompted him to tell a short story. Oftentimes, without meeting your eyes because he was too busy trying to busy his restless hands. Talking about her always makes him fidget.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know what it’s like to lose someone.”

Ignoring her, you ask, “Did Joel say when we were gonna start back hiking?”

Embarrassed, Ellie clears her throat and shakes her head no. “Why do you use his first name like that?” You almost hadn’t realized.

“Force of habit.” Her brows have furrowed in confusion, so you explain, “Half the time, people in the QZ only listened to me when I threw his name in the mix. It holds a lot of weight among certain groups these days.”

“Like he’s the boogeyman or something?”

You allow a small chuckle to escape at her words. She feels like it earns her a place back in your good graces. Pride glimmers in the grin that stretches across her face.

“Something like that,” you agree.

The familiar crunch of leaves rises as Joel makes the short venture over to the two of you. When he sees the fleeting smiles on your faces, he clears his throat and waits to see if he’ll be invited into whatever small moment of amusement had arisen. He seems to have just missed it.

“Speaking of the devil,” Ellie says,

Joel frowns, remaining quiet as he walks up to the edge of the creek. He stares into the bottom for a few thoughtful seconds. Both of you watch as he squats down to splash his face with water, humming with refreshment.

Ellie no sooner moves to copy him. She laughs, a bubbly surprised sound, as she stands with her face dripping and eyes squeezed shut.

“Wait, how do I—”

“Use your shirt,” Joel quips lightly.

“Oh, yeah!” She uses her shirt to dry her eyes just as he had.

The chuckle that rumbles through Joel’s chest is a sound you haven’t heard in a while. It makes you stand up straighter, unconsciously shifting his way as if the sound has the power to heal that part of you that misses him even when he’s within reach. Misses how things were before he grew hard and consumed with the need to survive.

You didn’t fault him for it, though.

What’s become increasingly clear, however, is that need was born as much out of spite as it was out of the pure, unadulterated will to live. The end of the world took Sarah, and to Joel, ensuring the two of you endured no matter what was his fuck you to the universe. His proof that everything he cared about couldn’t be ripped from his hands. It was a muddled labor of love.

But right here, right now, he’s laughing. Not urging silence or trying to instill a survival lesson. He’s letting the moment wash over him for what it is. There you stand watching the two of them like a mere onlooker frozen in place. The entire scene is reminiscent of a different time. A different Joel.

Something heavy and bitter settles in your stomach at the sight of their twin smiles.

“Are you gonna try it?” Ellie asks like she’s referring to some grand experience.

“It’s just water,” you say flatly.

Face falling, Ellie looks to the ground as if the bridge connecting you two had been burned yet again. Something protective flares in Joel’s chest.

He gives you a pointed look. “You feelin’ alright?”

“I’m great. Grand even.”

The air shifts, levity disappearing like a vapor. All three of you can feel it.

“Let’s keep moving then.”

For weeks, you keep it moving. Through rain, shine, and snow. The closer you get to Wyoming, the further away you drift from Ellie and Joel. Like you’re the corner piece of an island that’s been chipped away from the larger landmass.

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

Arriving at the Jackson commune does little to mend things back to the way they were. Some days pass by with more conversation and laughter between the three of you than others. Coming here had been the very thing you longed for, right alongside Joel. But tonight, as you fold clothes at the secondhand store where you volunteer, you wonder what there is to dream about now.

You don’t know what you like or want. You were so young when the outbreak began that Joel’s practices and motivations became your own. You don’t know where he ends and you begin, and the inability to distinguish makes a part of you resent him.

The bells above the door jingle as Ellie enters with her backpack slung over her shoulder. Half of her hair is pulled into a ponytail, while the other falls in loose waves just past her shoulders. For once, it looks like she brushed it properly.

You see more of her than Joel these days.

“Hey, I’m gonna go over to Dina’s,” she says as she pads over to you. “Joel’s not home yet so I figured I’d come tell you.” She absentmindedly runs her hand over the cashmere sweater you’d folded minutes prior to her arrival.

You set down the pair of jeans you just finished folding. “He’s not?”

“No,” she says, unphased. “Probably went straight to the dining hall.”

A dull, gnawing sense of worry arises in your chest. Ellie can’t see it or feel it herself, still tending to believe Joel was somehow invincible. That every time he went out for patrol, he was bound to return because that’s what he’d proven to her so far.

“Be safe, okay?” you tell her. “Thanks for letting me know.”

When she leaves, you head to the store owner in the back room. He’s rummaging through a huge box of donated items.

“Hey, Stewart?”

There’s a click as two glasses knock into one another. “Goddammit—what?” He straightens up to turn around and face you.

He has a head full of wiry gray hair and his glasses are crooked on his nose. There’s a light sheen of sweat beading on his forehead.

“You alright back here?” you tease lightly. He grumbles and waves you off. “Would it be okay if I clocked out early? Natalie and Craig are out there, so you’ll still have help until closing.” It’s been pretty slow this evening anyways. No chance a random rush would occur.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want, kid.” He huffs and looks back down at the box. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“You’re the best, Stew.” You flash him a playful smile.

Outside, you shiver at how cold it’s grown. Crossing your arms over your chest does little to alleviate the creeping chill. The first snow of the season has yet to fall, but you can feel it lingering in the crisp air. Nevertheless, Jackson Hole is buzzing. People of all ages flit in and out of shops and gathering spaces. Everywhere you look, there’s a friendly face, if not an actual friend.

This time of year, the entire commune is reminiscent of those cute Christmas village displays. Plush wreaths with red bows hang on wooden posts, and colorful fairy lights shine all around. The most activity buzzes over at the dining hall. Families talk and laugh on the benches outside, and you can see people walking around inside through the windows.

As you head that way, the two men standing on the patrol office porch capture your attention. It was probable that Joel was inside either logging or assessing his hours.

When you make it to the building, you recognize the taller man as Cameron, someone who often partnered with Joel because they had the same, collected, no-nonsense way about them. They automatically nod to you in greeting, but their lips are set in firm lines like they have news you don’t.

You offer a shaky smile back as a lump forms in your throat, “Evening.”

Your heart rate speeds up as Cameron opens the door for you. Inside, six men stand circled around Tommy, who’s tone is firm as he talks with his hands. Some have rifles slung over their shoulders, and others have pistols on their hips. Standing among the group is Lyle, a younger guy who was scheduled to be Joel’s partner today.

The only person missing is Joel.

You allow your eyes to rove over the plaques, portraits, and retired weaponry decorating the walls as you await the end of Tommy’s lecture.

“Let what happened out there today be a lesson—” Tommy stops talking when his eyes fall on you, and other heads turn to look your way. A few throats are cleared, necks are scratched.

“Hold on a second, fellas.” He breaks out of the circle and heads towards you, cowboy boots clunking against the wood floorboards. There’s a rifle draped across his body like he’s ready for action.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to gather what this meeting is all about. Everybody has discretely turned to look at the two of you.

“Tommy…”

“Why don’t we step outside for a second, yeah?” He places a gentle hand at the small of your back to guide you back out into the cold. Cameron and his buddy slip inside out of respect for your privacy.

“What’s going on, Tommy?”

He wrestles with how to answer. You see it in his dark eyes, the way he shifts his stance. His cheeks are a bit flushed.

“Joel hasn’t made it back,” he breathes. “Lyle made it in without him around an hour ago. Said they ran into some disgruntled nomads and got split up,” he says. “Got a few people out looking for him now, and I’m about to go out myself.”

How foolish you’ve been acting these past several weeks hits you all at once. Everything from purposely distancing yourself from Joel, to occasionally ignoring him whenever he tried to ask how you’ve been—you’d made a point to be away from the house as much as possible. Most of all, it’d been foolish to pretend he wasn’t one of the only people in the world you wouldn’t be able to live without.

A stinging sensation pricks in your eyes, but no tears form. You don’t have it in you to cry. Helplessness crashes down on you in the form of frustration.

“What do you mean came back without him?” you ask. “What good are patrol partners if they’re just gonna leave you behind—”

“Hey. Hey.” Tommy looks at you intently. His eyes are so much like Joel’s that you look away. “This ain’t the time to be pointing fingers, alright? When you’re out there like that and shit hits the fan, you don’t know how you’ll react.”

“Definitely not by leaving my partner behind.”

Joel had never left you behind. Things had gone sideways time after time again, but you managed to remain by each other’s side.

Worry radiates off of you in waves.

“I’m worried out my ass too,” Tommy admits, trying to assure you. “But judging other people ain’t gonna bring him back any faster,” he says.

When release a heavy exhale and slink your head down, Tommy steps forwards to wrap his arms around you.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he promises. “You eaten dinner yet?”

“I’ll probably throw up if I do.”

He pulls away to look at you under the soft glow of the porchlight. “Let’s at least try to get a little something in your system, okay? I’ll walk you over to the dining hall.” Tommy guides you that way, and everything around you seems to fade in and out as you walk.

Tommy’s words manage to break through to you, “I know my brother. He’ll make it back one way or another,”

He always did. Maybe a bite to eat didn’t sound so bad.

•••

The unyielding weight of your nerves forces sleep to find you when you make it home. Not in your bed, but on the couch as you sit and wait for Joel’s return. Worrying has taken a lot out of you.

Creaky footsteps arise out on the porch. Then the lock clicks. Neither of which you register. By the time Joel is walking in through the front door, your eyes flutter open. There’s a slight sway to his stride like he’s favoring one leg. Other than that, he’s still in one piece. You’re on your feet in an instant, ignoring the crick in your neck.

“Oh my god, Dad—thank god.”

Joel stops in his tracks as you hurry over to him. He lets you look him over as if he’s a child who just fell off a bike.

“Hey, sweetheart,” there’s a rasp to his voice.

Relief is written all over your face. It’s the most interest you’ve shown in him in weeks, but he’s grateful for it anyways. He’s grateful for any mind you’re willing to pay him.

There’s so much you want to say—I thought I lost you, don’t scare me like that again, I love you—but none of it comes out. Instead, it’s all packed into the way you step forward to throw your arms around him.

But even hugging him brings you close enough.

Luckily, he’s so tall and broad that you settle for the feeling of being safe, cocooned in his arms. He squeezes you, not in the playful way that used to be a means of making you smile, but in a way that solidifies his presence. Assures you that he’s never going to let go. That you don’t have to worry about living without him.

As your tears wet his shirt, he doesn’t ease up or pull away. He remains constant like he’s been throughout your entire life, even on the days you thought you wanted him to disappear.

He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head and you’re overcome with warmth.

“I love you to pieces,” his voice is low and thick with sincerity. “So much it hurts.”

It’s you who reluctantly pulls away to look up into his eyes.

“I love you too,” you murmur, cheeks glistening with tears.

The tears gathered in his eyes finally spill over. He doesn't turn away or tilt his head back in an attempt to fend them off. They simply roll down his cheeks at your words. You can’t recall seeing him cry since Sarah passed away. Guilt, sympathy, and gratitude swell in your chest. For the years he’s been strong for the both of you, for everyone who’s ever leaned on him in a time of need. He never made it look hard.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

“As long as you’re safe, I can handle being ignored.” He manages a small, sad smile. “It ain’t easy growing up during the end of the world.” Few things ever were.

“It’s a little easier with you.”

“Just a little?” He asks lightly.

Both your smiles grow, and as you step back into his arms, every gripe and the the chaotic events of the evening fade away.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.

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