#love that doesn't guide action is never going to be enough and that's where so much angst potential lies!

[hyperfixation-or-death]

Victor Deslandes & Alice Deslandes

[1."Poplar Street", Chen Chen / Tumblr user @metamorphesque // 2. Parallels screenshot // 3. "The Hours", Michael Cunningham // 4. Parallels screenshot // 5. Parallels screenshot // 6. Young Volcanoes, Fall Out Boy // 7. Parallels screenshot // 8. Parallels screenshot // 9. Tumblr user @brownvampire // 10. Ella Wilson // 11. Parallels screenshot // 12. "It lingers for your whole life", Katie Maria // 13. Parallels screenshot // 14. Interlude: I'm Not Angry Anymore, Paramore // 15. Parallels screenshot]

[hyuckmov]

haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby   read part 2 here <3

'cause he's so pretty when he goes down on me gold-skinned, eager baby 

haechan x fem!reader 7.2k, smut, minors dni, a bit of fluff, basically haechan loves your boobs. not proofread i was too excited. content: chest/boobs/nipples fixation if i ever seen one, consensual somnophilia but not really because one of them is awake, a little bit of teasing and manipulating i guess, unprotected sex, masturbating with a bra (m), shower sex, titty fucking, a little mention of dumbification, dom-ish haechan turned desperate needy (and dare i say, a little bit subby...?) haechan...ngl reader doesn't get to cum a lot this is mostly about haechan a/n: thank you all for waiting i really hope this lives up to your expectations or it's at least a little hot until the call with mark, you hadn’t really noticed at all. 

“dude he’s like…fucking obsessed with your boobs.” mark insists. over video-call, there’s a slight lag between his voice and his actions, but there’s no mistaking the sincerity on his face. 

“are you sure?” you ask, skeptically. “he’s never mentioned it to me at all.” 

mark laughs. “he said he doesn’t want to seem like a perv, so he never brings it up with you.” tilting his head to the side, “i guess that’s why he keeps telling me about it. you should do something about it for your anniversary or something.” 

haechan was a careful boyfriend. you appreciated the way his hands never lingered excessively on your waist even as he was a touchy person. you appreciated how, even if you had just come out from your shower in your towel — hair dripping wet, the material barely skimming the tops of your thighs, he kept his voice as steady as possible while handing you a robe. you appreciated the effort it took for him to keep his palms planted firmly on the bed above your head even as he made love to you. even as you grabbed at him incessantly, his fingers would go white, twisting in the sheets as he held himself back. 

and yet, something in you wanted to see him lose control completely. 

“yeah,” you breathe out, slowly. “i should.” 

happy anniversary, haechan. 

x

you start out small. you just need to see if mark might be onto something. 

“haechan, what should i wear to dinner?” 

haechan had been hyping up this date night for weeks and weeks. you know he researched the restaurant extensively, reading guides and blog posts about which wine to pair with each course. and for the past 30 minutes while you got ready, he sat patiently in the living room on his phone, sitting carefully so his button down shirt and slacks didn’t wrinkle. it was one of the things you found most endearing about him — how much he wanted things to be perfect even as the two of you got close to your second year of being a couple. you just wanted things to be perfect for him too. 

now, at your question, he wanders into your room, an easy smile on his face already. crossing over to where you stand in front of your mirror, he kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying from side to side. 

“that looks good, baby,” he says, sincerely. “you wanna head out now?”

“wait,” you untangle yourself from him and he steps away politely. “i’ll give you another option.” 

grabbing at the hem of your black turtleneck, a purposefully high collared choice, you tug it off you as quick as you could. you take a quick glance at the mirror, and sure enough haechan has averted his eyes at the prospect of seeing you topless. staring resolutely at the floor, you think you can almost see a red begin to tint his cheeks. 

“tell me when you’re done,” he mumbles, and you want to tilt his head up and make him look at you in the nice lacy bra you’d picked out, but you hold back. you promised you were going to start with something more subtle. 

and so you pull on a tight cropped cardigan with a low dipping neckline — one that hugs and accentuates your chest really nicely. doing up the buttons as quickly as you could, making sure it was just the right tightness, you tap him on the shoulder. 

“done.” 

observing him closely through the mirror, you see how his eyes jump instinctively to your chest, and then to your face, before they gravitate downwards again and settle into what is certainly a stare. almost as if he couldn’t resist. 

and were you imagining things, or was he breathing a little harder than before?

“haechan?” you prompt, and you bite back a smile when you see him jolt a little out of his daze, blinking rapidly. “thoughts?” 

“this one,” he blurts out. almost comically with how he can’t take his eyes off you, he darts out his tongue to wet his lips before repeating himself. “this one…it’s…you…” he swallows. “you should wear this one to dinner.” 

“it’s not too tight?” frowning exaggeratedly, you adjust your bra such that your boobs shift around a little under the top, squeezing them together. 

haechan hesitates. “actually…”, fuck he thinks to himself. because if you wear this to the restaurant, everyone will be able to see you. and he’ll be forced to pretend not to notice all throughout the meal. how the fuck, he thinks, as he watches you adjust your top again, am i supposed to think about wine pairings now?

“yes?” you revel in the way his eyes have glazed over entirely. 

“the first top.” he nods, almost as if convincing himself. “the turtleneck’s good.”

“why?” 

pause. “black looks better on you.” he slots his hands into his pockets, bouncing on his toes. “if you’re ready i’ll get the door.” 

“okay, you go on first.” you think you see relief on his face as he speedwalks out the door. 

twirling on the spot, thanking your lucky stars for mark’s tip-off, you swap out your black cardigan in exchange for the turtleneck, and head out to join your boyfriend at the doorway. 

x

it was exciting — thinking of ways to test haechan, little by little. it wasn’t that he wasn’t a passionate boyfriend, or that he was too shy. he had quite the dirty mouth if the atmosphere ever called for it, and he never attempted to hide his sounds of pleasure if you felt particularly good wrapped around him. but there was no denying that some part of him was always in control. 

because there was one version of haechan, who was something like this: 

“haechan?” 

he made a soft sound, turning to look at you from where you were seated on the other end of the couch. nights like these — with the television light illuminating your faces, haechan cozy and warm in an hoodie and sweatpants, you in one of his old shirts, with just enough of your bodies touching to give each other space and affection, — these were the nights you always felt a little more touch-starved than usual. and your boyfriend was just an arm’s length away, ready to love you in any way you ask.  

“baby?” 

you extend your arms out, reaching for him. “kisses please.” 

smiling, he reaches out and gently pulls you into his lap. your face turned towards him, the two of you beam at each other as haechan cups your face tenderly. dipping his head down so your noses touch, he goes a little cross-eyed as he basks in the feeling of your skin against his, his gaze shining with adoration. 

“okay,” he whispers, as he captures your lips in a sweet, patient, kiss. and another. and another, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the feeling, his hands never moving from the way he holds your face. afterwards, he wraps you in your arms so you can rest your head against his chest, and each time you raise your head up he kisses you indulgently. 

and when, as this progresses, your hands begin to wander purposefully to the strings of his sweatpants, he swats them away softly – the tiniest bit of flush on his cheeks as his heartbeat quickens, flustered.

“just kissing, baby,” he presses his lips on your forehead to emphasise his point. “just want to be close to you.” 

and then there was -

“haechan,” you whine. 

his head thrown back, he at least makes the effort to focus his eyes on you. but his body doesn’t stop moving, his grip on your waist bruising as he fucks up into you with more fervor. 

“yeah?” he mumbles. 

“kiss me?” 

his head snaps to you, and the side of his mouth quirks up. “hold that thought.” 

and then he’s flipping the two of you over. still inside you, he hikes your legs up and wraps them around his waist. your arms go to his shoulders instinctively, while his move upwards to cage you in. and then he goes still. 

“beg for it.” looking way too pleased with himself, he swivels his hips in slow motions, watching your face carefully to find your sweet spot, the angle that will drive you insane. he knows when he’s found it: your body shudders, your nails dig into his back and he hisses with pain. 

“haechan, please…” you whine, as he starts to pull out of you, only to slam right into that one spot inside you that makes you see stars. surrendering yourself to him, you ramble on, “fuck, please, touch me, please…” 

“what did you say, princess?” he buries his face in your neck, the way you squeeze around him and the obscene sounds of how wet you are beginning to get to him, as he begins to chase his own high. 

his hot breath on your neck, his lips brushing against skin but never sucking, his hands hovering beside you but not touching. 

control. boundaries. lines which you would like to see blurred, and crossed. 

x

you knew he would be having a long day at work. he had told you the exact timings of his most important meetings, his lunch break, consults with clients, and then the time and duration of his less important meetings. 

so nothing was a mistake when you sent him the photo of you at 3.45pm sharp, right at the last 15 minutes of his least important meeting of the day. 

because you were nothing if not considerate. 

haechan had been bored, sitting in his swivel chair, trying to maintain eye contact with the zoom conference but also scrolling on his phone when the investors rambled on for just a little too long. 

y/n: image

thinking little of it, maybe you needed an opinion on an outfit, he glanced at his laptop one more time before unlocking his phone and opening his chat with you. 

and he freezes. 

because on the screen, is a photo of you. specifically, from the waist up, wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned almost all the way and pushed open so he could see the very pretty, very lacy, barely-there bra you were wearing. one that was practically transparent with its mesh and lace, your nipples in stiff peaks poking out through the material. the sizing of the flimsy bra making your breasts look even fuller, even softer, than usual. 

fuck. 

he stares at your photo, lips slightly parted. he swallows. he swallows again. embarrassingly, his slacks begin to feel a little tight. fingers uncoordinated and slow, he types out the only response he can think of. 

haechan: hi 

haechan: did you send this to the wrong person? 

while he waits for your response, he clicks back to the photo. he can’t help it, what if you decide to unsend it? the thought flits through his mind, and hurriedly, he goes to save it just in case it didn’t download to his phone. 

y/n: babe you’re my boyfriend who else would i send this too? 

haechan: oh 

haechan: right

he can’t help it. the meeting gone straight from his mind, and your conversation with him slowly making less and less sense, the only thing he can think of doing is zooming in on the photo. deep down, he’s always been obsessed with your chest, but he always felt that it was a weird thing to bring up. you’ve never expressed a fixation with any particular body part of his, and he feels wrong for all the times he sneaks glances at you: be it from over your top, or when you’re midway through changing. he would never dream of asking to touch, but god he wants to. he doesn’t even know what he wants to do with your boobs other than to see, and to touch. and here you are, handing him his first opportunity to act on the former. 

so he stares, and he stares. wildly he considers setting this photo as his homescreen. when the meeting ends, he slams his laptop quickly shut. 

he was going to have to think of a way to pretend this didn’t affect him the way it did. 

x

“needed you all day, baby,” he groaned. haechan had just gotten home, spent about 5 minutes upholding the facade that he could spend a quiet evening just chatting with you after the events of the day, before he’d finally had enough and tugged you into his lap to suck on your tongue. gasping, his body shivering with need, he separated from you just long enough to make out the words “need you. right now”.

indulging him, you kissed him back just as fiercely. “hold on,” you say, as you clamber up from the couch and cross over to the dining table. teasingly, you place a hand on the tabletop, leaning on it as you smile. 

“bend me over?” 

still slumped into his seat, haechan pokes his tongue into his cheek in thought. “why don’t you show me how you want it first?” he challenges.

diligently, you bend yourself over the edge of the table, propping yourself up on your elbows. wiggling your ass a few times in the air, and trying to ignore the fear that he’ll laugh at you, you look over at him expectantly, doing everything but batting your lashes. 

haechan does laugh at you, but not in literal amusement. the dark sound of derision he lets out shoots straight to your core, as he gets up almost lazily, strolling over to you. 

“baby wants it from the back?” 

standing behind you, he runs his fingertips down your spine, stroking your back. it would almost be a tender action if not for the fact that he takes his hand away only to place it between your spread legs. 

sliding your pants together with your panties down your legs, he continues to kiss your shoulders as he begins running his fingers up and down your slit, eliciting a whine from you. 

“haechan…please don’t tease,” you plead, as he places a gentle pressure at your clit. “need you so bad too.” 

“shhh…” he coos, continuing to make soft clicking noises as he circles his digits around your entrance. “i’ll take care of you. just need to stretch you out first, okay?” 

slowly, he scissors his fingers inside of you, pushing them against your walls. wet sounds fill the still air in the kitchen, mixed with your whispers and his continued efforts to comfort you the best he knew how. losing yourself in pleasure, the ache in your belly begins to build, your legs shaking as your hips begin to buck against him subconsciously. 

“getting excited?” he teases, removing his hands from your core. you whine, a high and embarrassing sound, but you can’t bring yourself to care beyond the disappointment at how empty it feels without his warmth. 

“wait for me, princess.” you hear the sound of haechan fumbling with his belt, the clink of it hitting the floor. and then, you feel something thick and heavy press between your legs, stroking up and down your soaked slit. “first time trying this for me too,” he mumbles, and in the cloudy haze of your mind you register that this truly was the first time haechan was fucking you from the back. 

pulling your hips towards him with a slight roughness, he eases into you. the stretch is delicious, the new angle seemingly allowing him to go deeper, and he lets out a low groan at how your walls seem to suck him in. he thrusts a few times experimentally, making you gasp. which in turn makes him still.

‘everything okay, baby?” 

“yes,” you breathe. when he still doesn’t move, you wiggle your hips again, trying to squeeze around him. “please, please haechan i need you to move-” 

“i got you.” rolling his hips with a slow and steady pace, haechan holds your sides gently. but something about it feels off to even you: there’s something not quite right with the way he’s almost quiet, the desperation that started out this entire night seemingly evaporated. 

haechan continues for only a minute more before he pulls out. 

“i’m sorry, but fuck this,” he all but spits. grabbing your hips roughly, which makes you yelp in surprise, he flips you over and pushes you further up the tabletop. you look up at him — his hair mussed up, his chest heaving, a new aggression to him as he pushes your shirt up to expose your chest. 

bingo. 

hiking your legs up so they hook around his waist, he rams back into you. your back arches with how full you feel, the blunt head of his cock dragging against your walls as he fucks into you. hard. unable to control himself, his mouth practically hangs open as he pants, moans spilling from his mouth easily. 

“need,-” he starts, before quickening his pace even further. “needed to see,-” a hand drops one of your legs, and moves to your back to unclasp your bra. shoving it up so it no longer covers your breasts, a high whine tears from the back of his throat as he sees how each thrust makes your breasts bounce.

something clicks in your head. some mixture of the adrenaline, and how sexy haechan always made you feel judging by how desperate he could get around you, boosted your confidence tenfold. 

bringing your hands to your chest, you cup your breasts with your palms and give them a firm squeeze. the lewdness of it coupled with the stimulation making you arch your back, pushing you into him. 

and haechan cums.  

x

later, with his arms draped around you sleepily, you shift a little in his hold so he opens his eyes to look at you. “about just now…” haechan nods, letting you know you can continue. “so you don’t like it when you can’t see me?” you whisper, not wanting to break the silence and the tenderness that always filled the room on late nights like these. 

he hesitates. “i love everything i do with you” he says, quietly and sincerely. a hand comes up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “you know you’re already perfect to me, right?” 

the comment makes you warm up inside. love was so easy for haechan, and he never failed to remind you of how much he loved you all the time. 

“i know.” you snuggle closer to him. “but i just want to know when it feels just as good for you as it feels for me.” 

he hums in agreement. “maybe…” he bites his lip as he picks out the words in his head. “i think i just like to face you as we’re doing it. i like it when you…” suddenly shy, he nuzzles his face into the pillow a little so the rest of his sentence comes out muffled. “when you ride me, or when i’m on top of you.”

deciding to tease him a little, you add, “and the thing i did with my boobs…?” 

nervously, he blinks at you. “what?” 

“haechan, you came when i started playing with my chest.” 

“i j-just liked seeing you make yourself feel good,” he sits up, flustered. “i don’t-that’s not why i…” 

“okay, okay.” you get up too, leaning against the headboard. reaching out to pat him on the cheek, you feel warmth on your fingertips and decide not to push things further.  

“i just want you to know that if you wanted to try anything, you can just bring it up.” 

“i don’t want…i don’t want to try anything…” he mumbles. in the moonlight, you can see how he’s turned away from you, staring at the clock on your bedside table. 

and suddenly, you know exactly what you want to do. 

“or you can try it when i’m asleep.” 

confusedly, he turns around and blinks at you. “what?” 

“i trust you. i give you full permission to touch me in my sleep. whatever you want.” 

he gapes at you, speechless. you wonder if he’s going to protest again, you wonder if you pushed things too far. 

but something in your proposition must have stirred something in him, because eventually, he settles on asking…

“are you sure?” 

you reach over and take his hand to soothe him. “i’m sure.”

x

“has haechan mentioned anything?” 

you’re videocalling mark again. it had been a full week since you invited haechan to basically do whatever he wanted to you — a full week of staying up late and feeling him slide into bed behind you, waiting for what felt like hours. the most he did was maybe pull you towards him to cuddle, but he always did that. 

but it was also a myriad of little things you began to notice in that week. the way he would kiss you a little harder on days you walked around the house without a bra on. how he liked to hug you with his arms pressed against your upper back, pushing you into him. 

and the little things you began to do instead: wearing lower cut tops around the house, bending over so he could catch an eyeful of your cleavage. but every night, your boyfriend still lay still behind you, and you were beginning to think you had truly pushed things too far.

marks hums in thought. “not really.” he pauses. “actually, he doesn’t even talk about your boobs anymore.” 

“he doesn’t?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing. 

“nope.” mark sighs in relief. “i didn’t think the day would ever come. did you finally let him act on it or something?” 

“not really,” you grumble. 

“maybe he’s just marvelling at the freedom he has on which to love on your boobs now,” mark assures you. “i’m sure he’ll figure out what to do soon.” a pause. “sorry, is it just me or is it absurd that i’m comforting you about the fact that surely haechan will be obsessed with your boobs again?” 

“it’s a little absurd,” you concede. “am i setting feminism back by 100 years with my attempts to seduce him?”

“a little bit,” he nods, leaning back in his desk chair. “maybe just 50 years, though.”  

x 

you’re in bed, listening to the sounds of haechan busying himself putting away cutlery in the kitchen drawers. the sound of the tap running when he brushes his teeth and washes his face, the light sounds of his bottles of moisturizer and cream being capped and put away. the low hum of his voice, raspy but sweet as honey, as he mumbles a tune to himself. the click of the light switch as the room is bathed in moonlight. 

your eyes firmly closed, you feel yourself begin to doze off — if he hadn’t made a move, he wasn’t likely going to all of a sudden, right? vaguely, you hear him pad over to the bed in his slippers. 

and then he stops. 

unlike all the other nights before, he doesn’t get in immediately. even with your eyes closed, you can feel him standing there, breathing, taking in the look of you in the moonlight. 

“baby?” haechan calls, softly. 

you stay silent.

“are you still awake?” 

he reaches out a hand, and shakes you gently. you make your body go as limp as possible, keeping your breathing steady. 

“y/n?” he tries again. still nothing. 

after another pause, the bed dips as his weight settles in behind you. minutes pass, before you feel his hands come to your waist. they remain there for a while, and you can almost imagine him in the dark — pupils blown out, biting his lip. just wondering. after what feels like years, the sheets rustle as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into his chest. 

slowly, incrementally, you feel his hands begin to slide under your shirt. his fingertips are cool against your hot skin, fluttering with a slight nervousness, and you know it’s because he’s afraid to wake you with heavier touches. higher and higher up, his palms snake their way past your stomach, until they reach the underside of your breasts. 

another pause. 

and then, his hands slide up, the drag of it heavier this time, until he has a boob held carefully in each palm. 

you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat thundering in your chest. there’s something about all of this occurring in the dark, and in complete silence, which makes you hyper-attuned to him: the slight twitch of his fingers from his nervousness, his erratic breathing on the back of your neck. 

you feel him tense his fingers a few times, if anything, getting a feel of the soft flesh. and then, he carefully tightens his hold, squeezing each breast cupped in his palm — lightly, almost guiltily at first. as if he can’t believe he’s really doing this. you can hardly believe he’s really doing this. 

“fuck”, you hear him breathe. he squeezes harder.

his movements gentle, and barely noticeable with how slow they are, he begins to roll each 

breast in his palm. “so soft…” he breathes, and bounces them experimentally, feeling them move under his touch.

trailing his fingers inwards, he touches your nipples lightly, before rolling them between index finger and thumb, letting out a groan when he finds them grow stiff and hard. feeling around your areolae, he pinches at the skin. 

when he shifts behind you, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your lower back. 

his soft mutters and swears make you want to flip over and force his head into your chest, where you know he’ll only do better with his lips and teeth and tongue. but something about his warm palms, his fingers pushing and kneading and rolling, swiping in your cleavage, are so calming and loving that it starts to lull you to sleep. 

the last thing you register is his one of his hands leaving your chest, and the wet sounds of haechan fucking into his fist. 

x

haechan thinks he’s lost his mind. 

he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flickering his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggling up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction. 

he can’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep without reaching over to touch your breasts, and thumb at your nipples. his mind keeps trailing back to thoughts of going further, of kissing your chest, of sucking on your pretty tits and watching your nipples stiffen and harden because of him. 

and he thinks he’s beyond help when he finds himself standing over your open drawer, feeling himself grow hard as he bends down to run his fingers over your collection of bras, brassiere, and lingerie. 

because admittedly, ever since mark tipped you off, you had been stocking up on the pretty fabrics, testing out padded and non-padded ones, choosing colors you know haechan liked to see you in, materials like mesh and lace and cotton. 

his fingers rub against a soft, satin-y material, and he pulls it out. it’s light blue and flimsy, opening in the front, and from the way he’s memorized you through touch alone he knows it will barely cover your chest. it was a piece that would tease him more than anything, and he imagines the satin rubbing against his face, you pushing your chest into him as he unclasps it, watching the fabric fall away from your pretty breasts as you expose yourself to him. 

he can’t help himself, as he falls backwards onto the bed, scrambling so he can sit against the headboard. tugging his pants down with a movement that is too practiced, feeling his hard cock slap up against his stomach. too hurried to get any lube or lotion, scared you’ll come back from grocery shopping to find him like this, he spits into his hand and immediately starts fisting his length, the other still clinging onto your bra. he lets out a sigh of relief, his pants slowing down as he strokes himself. 

spreading the satin out on the bed, he lets his eyes fall to it as his hand speeds up. he wonders how he can request for you to wear it, and send him a picture. maybe he could put it at the very top of your pile of underwear, so you would see it. the color of it would look so pretty against your skin, would look so pretty in your mouth, would look so pretty if he… 

and then he’s grabbing the material, still soft and silky to touch, and now he’s stroking his cock with it, and the feeling makes him gasp, his hips fucking up into his fist, legs planted on the bed so he can thrust his hips up harder. the light blue, delicate material, looks obscene against the pink of his cock. 

he teases a finger over his slit and he whines, higher than he had ever heard himself. his chest heaving, he imagines you finding him, sitting on the bed, fucking himself into your bra, practically cumming at the thought of nuzzling his face into your boobs. he thinks of what you would say. 

or maybe you would get on top of him like you do, splitting yourself open on his cock as your tits bounce with each of your movements. 

he finishes to the thought of that, cumming straight into the material of your bra. the shame doesn’t hit him until after, when he’s trying to wash the stains out of it, a bright red that starts in his stomach and burns through his neck, cheeks, and ears. he’s silent all through dinner, faces away from you at night. 

but he can’t deny the thought that he wanted to do it again. and maybe all the other things he fantasized about. but how would he ever be able to tell you now?

x

the morning of your anniversary was when you decided this had to stop. all the teasing had begun to backfire, because having haechan’s hands on you every night — especially on the nights you had trouble sleeping, were making you need him badly. and he didn’t have a clue. 

haechan had woken up, kissed you on the cheek and wished you a happy anniversary, before heading to the kitchen. sitting on the edge of your bed, you thought hard about what exactly you should tell him — whether you should bring up the fact that mark was the reason all of this even happened, if you should tell him you had been teasing him, or that you had been awake on all those nights. 

suddenly, it seemed to add up to quite a lot of manipulation and lying. you felt a bit nervous. 

walking to the kitchen, you enter just in time to see him finish preparing the ingredients for the romantic breakfast he had planned. sweeping them into bowls lined up neatly on the countertop, he turns and smiles at the sight of you, standing there timidly in the entryway. 

“what’s wrong, love?” he comes over to you, draping his arms over your hips. “is everything okay?” 

swaying slightly, you look into his eyes, so full of love, and know that you can’t keep anything from him. and also that you weren’t brave enough to do it right then and there. “haechan?” 

“mmhm?” 

you hesitate. “i’m… i’m going to take a shower.” 

laughing slightly, he tilts his head to the side. “o…kay?” 

“do you want to join me?” you say in a breath.

you watch as the words hit him. slowly, he blinks at you, before he swallows, his throat bobbing. “really? that won’t make you uncomfortable?” 

“yes,” you breathe. “i want to.” 

it takes a few more assurances from you before haechan agrees, holding on to your hand as the two of you step into the bathroom. he waits for you to undress first, looking away politely as you get in the shower, before he undresses and steps in after you. as the hot water cascades over you, the steam beginning to make the air heavy, he kisses your shoulder gently before turning you around so your back is facing him. 

“i’ll wash your back for you,” he says, kindly. you hear him uncap the shower gel, and slowly start to scrub at your back lightly with the loofah. sometime between turning around and him washing your back, he’s turned off the water, and there aren’t any sounds except for foam and soap moving against skin. 

“haechan?” 

“yes?” 

you turn around. haechan lifts the loofah away from your skin and looks at you, curiously. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“wash my front for me.” 

he bites his lip, before nodding. 

“okay.” 

he starts at your shoulders, down to your collarbones, working small circles into your skin. when he reaches the top of your chest, where the swell of your breasts begins, he hesitates again, lifting the loofah from your skin so his hand hovers between the two of you. you decide that now was a good a time as ever. 

“haechan…” you reach out and take his hand. and he looks so nervous, his breaths coming in quicker, his eyes darting between yours and your interlocked hands, that it makes you want to delay for just a little bit longer. 

“haechan, you do know that it feels good when you touch my chest, don’t you?” 

“what?” he stares at you. he seemed like he was hardly breathing. 

“i may have been awake a few of the nights in these past two weeks,” you say, slowly, before looking him in the face again. “you left me feeling really needy, you know that?” 

“sorry,” he apologises reflexively, before stopping as the words register in his head. “so, it…doesn’t make you…uncomfortable?” 

“no.” 

slowly, he nods, and then he adds, “you’re not weirded out?” 

“no,” you shake your head patiently. “it’s the opposite of all that. i love it when you touch me there.” 

“yeah?” he breathes, and you watch as his eyes darken just slightly, his chest falling and rising at a slightly quicker rate. and then he’s dropping the loofah, his hands going to your waist as he kisses you, hard. backing you up against the shower wall, he continues to kiss you feverishly as his hands go to the slope of your shoulders, trailing down your front until they cup your breasts, the movement so practiced and fluid that you don’t have the time to catch your breath. 

“always,” he gasps, “wanted to do this,” he moans into your mouth as he plays with your nipples, stroking them, his hands still slippery with soap. 

his movements jerky and disjointed, he turns the water back on so that it runs over the two of you, dousing your chest with warm water so that it’s slippery to touch, and if possible they feel even squishier and softer in his hold. groaning, he pushes his head into your neck as he squeezes them in his firm grip. 

“haechan,” you whine, his hands on you, and the desperation in his rough actions making you need him even more. 

he doesn’t bother to respond, shoving his knee between your legs to knock them apart and letting you grind on his thigh. its the way the movement is meant to placate you, as if he was too busy with your breasts to even pay attention to you, that makes it even more satisfying to grind down on him. 

“can i,” he gasps, breaking away from you. somehow already fucked out even though all he’s done is touch you, he pleads with you with his eyes. unable to catch his breath, he stutters out, “c-can i please, please, suck them?” 

you curse, but he seems to take it negatively. gulping, he begins to move away from you, his hands trembling, but your desperation overtakes you. 

grabbing his head by his hair, you pull his face towards your chest. and now it’s your turn to beg. 

“please,” you rasp, and that’s all you have to say because immediately his lips latch onto your right nipple, a whine sounding from him high and drawn out. swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, his other hand goes to your neglected breast, rolling the other nipple with his thumb and forefinger. all the while, his hips grind mindlessly, his hard cock rubbing against your upper thigh, spilling precum all over your skin that’s washed away just as quickly. 

haechan is in seventh heaven. he thinks he could spend forever like this, suckling on your tits, fucking into your thighs, listening to your pretty gasps and sighs. all the embarrassment from before has melted away, and all that’s left is his desire to touch and to taste, knowing that it brought you as much pleasure as it did for him. 

“eager baby,” you coo affectionately, trying to keep your voice level. with a feeling of elation, watching him grind against your skin and suckle at you as if he was a baby, you realise that you’ve done it: he’s lost all semblance of control. “do you think you could cum like this?” 

haechan moans, and the sound is beautifully crude as it echoes against the bathroom tiles. open-mouthed and panting, he whines again as he switches to another breast, both hands leaving your chest in favor of tugging at his neglected cock. 

and suddenly, you know just what he needs. 

“stop,” you tell him, but it’s not convincing enough — the sight of him, and stimulation from your chest, affecting you way too much. he ignores you, continuing to slobber over you, licking at the crevice between your boobs. 

“stop,” you insist, pushing him away this time. even as he breaks apart from you, his movements halting, his eyes are still trained on your breasts, watching the streams of water slide down them, dripping off of you, as if in a trance. 

reaching behind him to turn off the water, you open the shower door. haechan blinks a few times, the dissipating steam slowly clearing the air of the tension, and clearing the fog in his head too. 

“y/n,” he swallows. “i need you, please-” 

“you’ll have me,” you assure him, grabbing a towel as you lead him out of the en-suite bathroom, and over to your bed. “i just know you’ll really like this, so trust me, okay?” 

“okay,” he breathes, coming to stand between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“and-” you point at him. “you need to calm down, okay?” 

looking wounded, haechan practically whimpers, reaching for your chest. 

“it’s not that i don’t like you eager,” you say, hurriedly. “i just want you to enjoy this for longer, okay?” 

he nods. 

a smile tugs at your lips. is this how he usually felt like? watching you dumb and desperate for him? 

“words,” you tease. 

“okay,” he says softly. “i’ll try.” 

“good job, baby,” you reach up to pat him on the cheek, before turning to grab a bottle of lotion that always stood on your bedside table. lying on your back, you motion for him to come over to you. he hovers obediently, sitting on his heels. 

uncapping the lotion, you take one of his hands and squeeze out a generous amount onto his palm. 

“spread it out over my chest,” you tell him, patiently. his lips part, and he’s about to surge towards you, so you place a hand on his arm. “slowly.” 

he swallows. he takes a breath. and then he’s spreading the lotion onto his palms, and as he promised, he slowly places them on your chest and begins to apply it onto your skin. his eyes glaze over as he swipes them under your boobs, rubbing into your cleavage, smearing it in circular motions closer to your nipples. even though you enjoy his touch, and you know he’s enjoying himself too, you motion for him to stop. 

slowly, carefully, you place both hands on the sides of your boobs. haechan’s eyes widen almost comically, and you look at him sternly, reminding him to keep it together. you squeeze them together, creating a tight passage between them where your cleavage is. 

“okay,” you breathe. “now fuck them.” 

haechan’s eyes, which have been fixating on your chest the whole time, flicker up to yours in confusion. 

“baby,” you try again, “here. in between my boobs.” 

haechan had never seemed to hear of the concept. finding the words, he splutters out, “what? how? do i really-” he stares at you, again, before the arousal seems to wind him over and he shuffles up to straddle your stomach. you see his thighs trembling as his large hands cover yours, squeezing your breasts together with more force. the blunt head of his cock makes contact your boobs, and he whimpers, before slotting it in the valley of your breasts, and thrusting forwards. 

you remove your hands, seeming to give him total control, when really he’s lost it all completely. 

his mouth hangs open as he lets out moan after moan, thrusting harder and harder into the tight passage. “fuck,” he gasps, going to stroke your nipples as he raises himself slightly, the need to fuck your tits harder and faster driving his hips forward and making him almost lose balance. strings of curses and nonsensical rambles fall from his puffy lips as he chases his high, wanting to enjoy it for longer but also wanting to cum. 

the sight of him, flushed and panting, holding onto your chest as if for dear life, is enough to satiate you for a little while, but soon the wetness between your thighs and throbbing of your clit feels too much to handle on your own.

“baby,” you breathe, “do you want to-” 

but at the petname, haechan lets out one high whine, and cums — all over your chest, up to your neck and chin and some even dribbling onto your face. all the while, he continues to fuck into your chest, until the stimulation is too much for him and he falls back on his heels, needing to get away. 

there’s a pause. 

his heaves and pants filling the room, he sits on the bed resting on his elbows. you’re a little winded too, but you don’t know what from. it takes him a while to calm down, even after you clean yourself up and pull him towards you to cuddle, him laying a hand on your boob the entire time. 

finally, his head seems to clear and he comes back to himself. looking at you carefully, he furrows his brow. 

“so that day with the turtleneck…” 

“yeah,” you say, feeling a little shy. you can’t believe he remembered something so far back. 

“and the photo of you in the bra…” 

“i thought you’d like it,” you offer, and he laughs at that. before he pauses, and really looks at you. 

“and you haven’t cum at all today, haven’t you sweetheart?” 

“not yet,” you breathe. 

happy fucking anniversary.

taglist: @matchahyuck , @kpopwh0r3 read part 2 here <3

[veloursdor]

the thing about larys strong is that i think he's been lonely his entire life, lonelier than even he realised/admitted to himself. he craves connection, someone to see him for who he is. and that's what's been guiding most of his actions throught the entire time we've known him.

when he saw alicent being unheard and unseen, he tried to form a connection with her as he saw himself in her (through manipulations of course, but his intention there when saying "i could be your ally" were sincere). but she rejected him (by refusing to see him as a man, by being horrified at his true self (the harrenhal fire), etc) and thus he grew to resent her and want to control her/humiliate her like she "humiliated him", probably thinking it was enough because of the power she gave him.

but then viserys died and alicent's power died with him.

spoilers for season 2 of house of the dragon below the cut

i think his "love" for her... changed or was put on the back of his mind after 2x04, especially after he sees the moon tea and she's in pain. when he asks her about criston, his reaction to her words is as if he is confused, as if he's recalculating what he thought of her because he's seeing her in a whole new light.

and maybe he is seeing her truly for the first time ever.

he said "you and i are the same", was always listening in on her conversations to gather information, maybe even convincing himself by doing so that she truly was like him. but, i think that, when larys says "you have not been yourself" is his way of saying "who are you? are you who i've always thought you were or someone i do not know?" and has to change his view of her, of what he convienced himself he saw in her.

maybe he sees that he's been living in a lie made of his own words.

so, when the council scene happens, he pities her and rejects her idea, because it has no ground and she's grasping at straws. (i do think he does feel sorry for rejecting her but he also doesn't have enough solid ground with aemond as regent (his position in the small council is fairly new) and slighting aemond would cost him the power he has, so he stays quiet and looks away).

however, he also manages to drive a nail to alicole's coffin but he walks away without looking back at the mess it left.

they then don't share a scene at all for the rest of the season.

from then on all his scenes are with aegon, and we see a side of larys we haven't seen before.

ageon gave him power (of course larys manipulated aegon with the Hand comment) because of his "loyalty" following blood and cheese (i still believe larys "let it happen") and made him his master of whispers. he placed larys in the small council (when alicent never did in the 6 years she acted as regent) and gave him status outside of the dungeons. he "brought him [larys] out of the shadows" in a way.

the show has made a point to tell us, since episode one of season two, that larys has been looking at aegon the same way he used to look at alicent in season one, staring him down as if he could see what he's made of, constantly analysing and calculating how to best approach him.

he made small attempts at conversations and funny lines ("that castle is more crippled than me") as the whole alicent thing is going on.

and then the battle of rook's rest happened.

with aegon barely holding on, we have a scene where larys is honest, vulnerable, sincere maybe for the first time ever (yes there's manipulation, but also genuine compassion). he sees the struggles aegon will have to face because he lived them himself.

like with alicent in the weirdwood, he tried to form a connection with aegon. but where alicent "rejected" his true self, aegon instead listened to what larys was saying, saw the truth in it and raged, which made larys feel seen and heard, beyond manipulation and twisted words, probably for the first time in his life

larys, for all his talk that love is a downfall, craves connection, the desire to not be alone in the world. he does feel love.

and whereas alicent rejected his love and was disgusted by his true self, aegon welcomed his help, invited his advice, and embraced his aid to become stronger

i think larys will be loyal to him as long as aegon allows his love and it does not fester into resentment, like his love for alicent did

[sluttyminghao]

Seventeen x Phone Sex

95 line - 96 line - 97 line - 98+99 line

♡ word count: 1.1k ♡ genre: smut - 18+ only ♡ a/n: here is the 96 line version! i hope you guys enjoy! shoutout to @bf-wonu and my friends at @svthub again for helping with this!

Junhui: This man would be insanely giggly every single time you suggest phone sex or have any conversation that leads up to it. He’s going to not be anywhere close to dominant, and may, in fact, become a little more submissive just because he doesn't know what way the conversation will end up going. Jun is going to be very whiny and tell you what to do, but he’s going to be edging himself for god knows how long because he’s addicted to your voice. Every single time you moan or whine out when your fingers touch your sensitive body, it sends a lightning bolt of want and need through his body and only makes him speed up his own hand movements. “You sound so pretty like this, wish it was me that was getting those noises out of you instead though.” I think he’s also the type to have like…a pillow he uses to fuck himself into or a fleshlight of some kind because he just needs to have his cock enveloped in something and hear your voice whilst simultaneously fucking into a fleshlight or a pillow? It would immediately send him over the edge. When he’s feeling dominant, however, i think he would definitely take action in telling you what to do, but would never tease you because he’s holding on for dear life with his own orgasm. He knows what you want and when you need it, so would get you to the edge super quickly.

Soonyoung: He’s definitely very impulsive when it comes to phone sex. You could be at home doing some work and all of a sudden he’s texting you like crazy and calling you a hundred times, and when you finally answer he’s heavily breathing and fucking himself up into his hand. Even though you can’t see him, you know exactly what’s happening and ask him what he’s been thinking about, only for him to retort back with some of the filthiest images either of you could think of. “Was thinking about how I tied you up the other day and your body looked so perfect and ready for me…and then also was thinking about that one time i made you cum so much you passed out” He would definitely also be the type to do video calls as well, and as soon as you pick up you know you’re in trouble when you see how he’s angled his phone just perfectly so that you can see every inch of him, and it gets you going immediately. Soonyoung is very “no thoughts just need to cum” and would be spouting orders for you left and right while he jacks himself off like he’s insane. He’d be telling you to strip for him, get your tits out and play with yourself until you’re both cumming, but he makes you wait until he’s about to cum so you can cum together. Immediately afterwards, he would send you photo proof of how much he came just so you know what you’re in for when he gets home.

Wonwoo: If there’s one thing everyone can agree on with Wonwoo, it’s that his deep voice would instantly have you cumming. He is definitely on the more dominant side when it comes to phone sex, he loves being able to guide you through with a stern voice, letting your whimpers and moans hit his ear in just the right way that his cock twitches. When he’s in the mood, you can tell because his voice drops at least an octave and grows raspy, which only lights the lust fire in your belly and drives you crazy. He would spill the filthiest phrases, telling you how bad he wants you and every single position he wants you in, as well as how much he wants to fill you up with his cum. He’s also definitely the type to play mind games with you, tell you that you can cum and then say things like “oh did I say you could cum? I didn't mean to, oops, now i guess you’ll have to make it up to me” or “if you didn’t cover your fingers then you didn’t fuck yourself hard enough”, and also loves using those toys you can connect to over wifi where he can control the vibrations and movements of said toy. He would make you cum so much with the toys that you grow so sensitive and he only draws it out even further for you, making you so sensitive to the slightest touches and vibrations have you moaning and clenching. His raspy voice wouldn't help either, especially so when he tells you he wishes your hand or mouth was wrapped around his cock rather than his own hand and he’d cum a lot, it’s splayed all over his thighs and abdomen and then also is wishing that you would be the one to clean it up for him. You’re just his good little whore, after all.

Jihoon: With Jihoon, it’s very common to have sex over the phone given his constant desire to want to be in the studio. He would probably have a schedule where he calls you like once or twice a week later at night, probably when he’s at his most frustrated when he’s producing or writing, and just lets his frustrations flow in the form of mutual masturbation. He wouldn’t be overly dominant or submissive, but rather just goes with how he’s feeling and how frustrated he is. If he’s been struggling for a while, he would probably go a little more dominant, and if he’s doing alright, he’d be pretty neutral. With how often you guys have sex over the phone, he would pretty much know exactly what to do and when, really has it down to a pinpoint on how well he knows you, down to your breathing patterns when you’re getting close to your orgasm. He would also be pretty easy to come undone as well, given that you can push his buttons hard enough. If he’s frustrated, you want to get him off in as little time as possible so that he can focus again. If he’s chill, then you can drag it out and edge him for a while until he finally snaps and switches to dominance. I think he’s not one to talk dirty often, and would only use it on the odd occasion where he’s feeling more dominant than normal. He’d be very careful with his wording but manages to speak fluently in dirty talk when he’s in the mood, calling you his good little slut and whore and getting you over the edge and getting you moaning which in turn, gets him to cum all over his thighs.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

So I haven't written a lot of meta in a while for anything, but I feel the need to talk about this because I just have a lot of feelings about it.

I want to talk about the two kisses Buck and Tommy have shared on screen. What I like about the two kisses is that there's this wonderful difference between them.

The first one is the one Tommy initiated with Buck. There's this caution and care and easing that Tommy brings, partially because he doesn't know where Buck stands and he's taking a chance on this feeling. He gives Buck the opportunity to move away from the kiss, to not let Tommy guide him into that kiss.

And even when Buck kisses back, Tommy is still gentle; Tommy is soft and he lingers. Tommy soaks in that moment.

And Buck's kiss at the hospital?

Oh wow it's beautiful in a completely different way. Buck has seen this man not only come to a bachelor party Buck organized despite Tommy being on call, but Tommy coming to Chimney and Maddie's wedding at a random hospital as soon as he could after fighting a 24 hour forest fire. Buck has seen Tommy make him a priority when so many people don't do that for Buck.

But here Tommy is.

Rushing to the hospital.

Tommy probably had his coworkers drop him off in their station's firetruck. Tommy didn't even go back to his station to change, he rushed into that hospital with his entire uniform on, still covered in soot.

Tommy was there for Buck.

Because Buck is important to Tommy. Because this was important to Buck. And Tommy had promised he would be there.

And there's this joy Buck has in someone caring about him that much; to date someone who actually thinks about what's important to Buck. This person who keeps being there for him even when work makes it difficult.

And there's a confidence in Buck.

In how he feels about Tommy.

In what he wants.

These two have been going out for weeks, and you can see the difference in how Buck acts in public with his boyfriend now, even if he's not out to most of his loved ones (yet).

That's so clear in Buck's actions. Buck takes control of that kiss in a way that surprises Tommy, you can hear it in the surprised moan. Because Tommy wasn't putting any expectations on Buck, he was okay with whatever Buck could give him. He never pressured Buck.

And this is what Buck gives when he's comfortable and feels loved.

And part of Tommy's surprise must be that no one actually handles him like this. People see Tommy's size and assume that he would be the one who would initiate, who would take control.

And Tommy?

Tommy melts into that kiss. And Buck can tell and he keeps kissing Tommy like that.

And you know, people talk about how Tommy should have warned Buck to wipe the soot off his face, but honestly how would Tommy have the brain cells to do that after a rough 24 hour shift and that kiss? I bet Tommy could barely focus enough to apologize to Maddie and Chimney for being late.

Buck is also so pleased with himself. You can see that when he goes upstairs. He's been making out with that man long enough to where people are casually chatting while eating wedding cake and he is just energized.

I just really love both of these kisses.

[silk-fl0wers]

"Moments with them"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo, Zhongli, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Thoma, Arataki Itto, Tighnari, Al-Haitham

Warning(s): None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: What kind of random moments happen with the men?

> GnReader!

❅ ᴋᴀᴇʏᴀ

: ̗̀➛ If horses were still a thing in Mondtadt, he would've loved to take you horse riding in Whispering forest and near the shore lines of Windrise. You could have your own horse to ride on but he would like it much better if you rode with him instead - he wants to feel your arms around his waist and your face leaning on his shoulder - to keep you safe incase of any random ambush, the cavalry captain has to make sure no harm happens to his significant other otherwise his title would be of no point to have.

: ̗̀➛ There's just some days where he just wants to be genuine with you like showing a smile that goes all the way to his cheeks and to the point where they end up hurting a lot or either it being where he spills out his emotions and feelings little by little. It's not a lot but it's a sign to show that he trusts and loves you a lot to let you know these little secrets of his that he doesn't tell anyone.

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❅ᴅɪʟᴜᴄ

: ̗̀➛ Whenever the grapes are ready to be plucked from thier vines for wine making, you convince him to let you join even though in reality he would never decline you of helping as long as there's nothing that can harm you. Adelinde and Elzer will also be out giving a hand so if you feel like going back inside just give them a heads up, they'll also throw you a warm bath if you want one too.

: ̗̀➛ His body suddenly feels warmer knowing that you tend to wait for him at the front doors of the mansion whenever he's out doing his duty to protect Mondstadt at night. He doesn't wish for you to stay up really late at night knowing how long you've been waiting and that you should've gone to bed without him but it generally warms him up how you have chosen yourself to patiently wait for him to come back to know that he's at least okay.

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❅ ᴀʟʙᴇᴅᴏ

: ̗̀➛ Taking notes of his observations - studies of abyssal mobs, primordial Albedo, Durin, the traveller, the known and the unknown - hung up on the boards in his lab all soon to be the known if he can solve them. You find his viewings and studies engrossing. If you find them interesting then he wouldn't mind to tell you about them and what he had conjered up so far. Doing this also starts to have an effect on him, he now feels a warm sensation inside knowing that his significant other loves to hear him chat on about his studies, more different to when he tells them to Sucrose or Timaeus.

: ̗̀➛ Due to his habbits of staying up at the latest of times to continue with his work, you would have some candy prepared in a small box and gift it to him before leaving his lab. He stated it himself at the start of the relationship that they help to give him an energy boost for when he feels like he’s starting to go off track so he’s very thankful and happy that you have gifted these to him.

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❅ ᴛᴀʀᴛᴀɢʟɪᴀ

: ̗̀➛ Helping him with babysitting Tucer if he ever comes for a visit in Liyue. He feels bad that he has to dump his responsibility of his brother on to you for some time but he wants to keep his real job a secret from him, at least when he's older enough to understand this he'll stop doing this but at the end of the day it does come with a reward for compensation of having you babysit such as having late night talks, hugs, kisses, cuddles or dinner. He even slips out a little apology his actions.

: ̗̀➛ If you're good at weapons, mainly the bow, he'd be pleading you to help him and to teach some techniques of yours to help him really master the art of the bow. You'd help him with his posture and aiming, doing the thing where your hands are over his and guiding his arms to a better position to get a more precise shot of the training dummy in front of you two.

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❅ ᴢʜᴏɴɢʟɪ

: ̗̀➛ Gives you some of Liyue's specialities, more so of the Cor Lapis. Whenever he gifts them to you on a date or on any special occasion, he likes to tell you the backstory about that speciality and give little facts. He probably knows himself about how much he does talk during these so forgive him if he does end up talking your ear off too much, he can't help it and genuinely wants to share off his knowledge to you. His beloved significant other.

: ̗̀➛He finds it entertaining how you also try to get along with his other friends and cared ones like Ganyu, Cloud Retainer, Mountain Shaper, Moon Carver, Madame Ping and Xiao. Few of them are harder to befriend and will take some time but for ones like Ganyu and Madame Ping the three of you have become good acquaintances and will every so often invite you to have some tea and food over a relaxing chat. Zhongli very much loves you a lot, it wasn't required to friend them just because he has some relation to them but you chose to so it makes him really delighted.

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❅ ᴋᴀᴢᴜʜᴀ

: ̗̀➛Accompanying him to go on a walk near the shores of Guyun Stone Forest for a break while Beidou and the other Crux members party on the Alcor. The walk is breezy, cheering and laughter is heard throughout the forest from the Alcor, light sounds of the birds calling to each other from above and the rustles of the vines and bushes against each other. The two of you sitting next to each other, his hands in yours, chatting about whatever you want to.

: ̗̀➛ When stopping by at Inazuma, he always goes to the spot north-east of the Grand Narukami Shrine to pay his respects to his long-term friend Tomo and to the cat that would always be inside of his kimono. Whether you know him or not but still pays your respect to his old friend Kazuha cannot help but show a small smile on to his face. He also may have sometimes came here without you and talk to the blade stuck in stone all about you, how you met and how wonderful you are. He knows Tomo would've liked you a lot if he was still here.

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❅ ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀ

: ̗̀➛He catches you on a late night enjoying the company of the animals around the city and feeding them little treats. He hasn't moved from his spot yet because he's admiring you from just behind a tree, he doesn't mean to look like a creep but he wants to take some time to allow for his brain to keep this moment before joining you in your late night activity, that is if you don't mind of course.

: ̗̀➛If you do happen to know how to knit or crochet then you can imagine yourself already making some small sweaters and toys for the tamed animals around the main city. Just the two of you enjoying your favourite drinks and sinking into the pleasure and cosiness of the room and the chat the two of you have between yourselves. It's not a lot but Thoma really enjoys this, just him and his love making things for animals, what else could he wish for?

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❅ ᴀʀᴀᴛᴀᴋɪ ɪᴛᴛᴏ

: ̗̀➛ The one and oni allows for you to paint and polish his horns, paint it any colour you wish for cause he doesn't mind it one bit since he loves the care and attention you have on his horns. Later on he's already running to the gang and Shinobu about his horn colour and how you were the one who did this masterpeice.

: ̗̀➛ Speaking about the gang, he also loves how you treat them. The citizens of Inazuma do treat his gang members quite more better than they do to himself but seeing you also get along with them and their little escapades he can't help but to be very ecstatic and very chirpy, almost as if he was walking on clouds kinds feel.

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❅ ᴛɪɢʜɴᴀʀɪ

: ̗̀➛ Listening to his lectures about the native floral and mushrooms of Sumeru. He appretiates it alot that you really take note of them and put the information to use; being you telling offt the other forest trainess for eating a poisinous mushroom or genuinely because you want to chatter on about the different kinds.

: ̗̀➛When you get the permission to brush out his tail and maybe his ears if he's not dotting down notes into his book. He always seems to go into some serene like state whenever you do brush his fox features, you can see it on his face too whenever you peek over that's he's dozing off and lightly jolts up upon realising he has fallen asleep not knowing himself. Sometimes he really does go into slumber and doesn't wake up from it so you take it as your cue to carefully turn off any light sources and place a blanket on the both of you before going to join him in a peaceful slumber too.

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❅ ᴀʟ-ʜᴀɪᴛʜᴀᴍ

: ̗̀➛Despite him being reserved and closed off to most people he's quite different when it comes to you. He still has the same facial expression but his actions towards you contrasted ones he displays to others such as waving to him and he waves back or when greeting him with a wave he copies your exact motions, to a point where the others in the Sumeru gang finds it amusing that he only waves back at you only.

: ̗̀➛He also doesn't mind at all when you climb into his lap whenever he's reading and just looking at the books pages as well. He doesn't make any move or sound to show that he doesn't want you off of him so you continue to stay up until you've fallen asleep. During this, you cannot fully make it out but some weight goes on to your waist and wraps around it. You can only smile a little after guessing what he really did do was correct to your amusement.

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[rubydubydoo122]

As much as I hate to say it, and as much as I love Jason ToddI'm gonna need DC to kill him again, and keep him dead this time.

Now before you come at me, let me explain why I think this. Jason Todd is a character that while alive will always be connected to Gotham, and because of his differing morals with Batman, he will always be in a cycle of conflict with him. We saw it in UTRH, we saw it in RHATO, we saw it in Gotham Wars. Because Jason isn't a villain (I feel like in UTRH he was an anti-hero, and any actions that didn't align with the morals he set during that time is because he was villainized by Batman) Bruce's actions feel overtly brutal (batarang to the neck, beating him so har his helmet broke, chemically altering him to feel fear) especially since it's towards his SON the one he claims to have mourned. It's a vicious cycle that isn't fair to Jason, and it's major character assassination of Bruce. It's overdone and I am sick and tired of it, but I do not see either characters backing down from their moral stances.

Now you might be thinking, just because Bruce and Jason don't get along doesn't mean they can't make up-- they've tried. Multiple time. Every time Jason and Bruce take a step in the direction of being close to each other again, Bruce becomes a control freak and abuses Jason like he's his own personal punching bag, and there's only so many times someone can forgive someone before enough is enough.

But I still haven't explained why specifically I think Jason should die again. And it's because of two reasons. Jason deserves peace, and as long as he's a ghost walking on earth, he won't be able to get that. Also because it would make Great Angst. We all know Bruce would break if he lost Jason again. He's going to push everyone away, and if you're going to have Bruce push everyone away, give him consequences for his actions.but we saw how protective Dick got during Gotham Wars. Just imagine Dick walking up towards Bruce and saying, "It might've been my fault last time for not picking up his calls, but this time, you can't deny that this, is all your fault." "How dare you! He was my son!" "You lost him once, and when he came back you treated him worse than any of the loonies in Arkham. You don't miss him at all. You only feel guilty because of your goddamned savior complex. You only treat him like your son when he's dead."

and while we're at it, maybe Tim can have a complete crisis. He had to pick up the pieces of Bruce in the aftermath of Jason's death last time, and look where that got him. All of his friends and family died. He was never truly recognized for guiding Bruce out of the dark, and we all know that Tim is one inconvenience from killing a bitch. Maybe this is it. I actually think it would be hilarious for Tim to take up the Red Hood mantle, Only to screw with Bruce. Because he knows that's what Jason would've wanted.

Have Damian afraid of what Bruce has become in guilt. Have Damians castle of worship for his father come tumbling down, because Damian always knew his father loved all of the previous Robins more than him, and if his father no longer wanted them, what was stopping Bruce from sending him back to the League.

Like DC if you're going to use Jason as a catalyst for an event, kill him off again. last time it was on a whim. This time, do it on purpose. This time, give his death a purpose. This time, make sure his death changes something, because god, Bruce has fucked up so much.

[fixfoxnox]

Pervert Blues (Soap/Roach)

Art by the wonderful @miilkybnn , find it here

Description: Roach has an issue. John "Soap" MacTavish is a fucking pervert and won't leave him alone. He definitely doesn't like it. And he definitely is not happy when Soap finally manages to get him alone in a communal bathroom on base.

Warnings: Smut, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Semi-public sex, perv Soap, slight victim blaming but Roach wants it

Notes: Based on that one audition from Soap and written for my dearest @miilkybnn

Roach and Soap had issues since the very moment that Roach had joined the 141. It wasn’t anything that Roach had done, he’d made a pretty good impression on the team when he’d joined. Apparently, too good of an impression on Soap, considering what had been building between the two for months upon months. 

It had started off innocent enough, so innocent that Roach hadn’t thought anything of it. The comments from Soap were just playful little things about how good he looked in the uniform. How he must have had all the people on his old squad drooling after him. “Accidental” touches that would brush against his ass. The friendly hand on the small of his back, guiding him into a conference room or the cafeteria. The way he would stand just a bit too close while they were talking. Or he’d get right up behind Roach to get something off of a taller shelf. 

It had all seemed so innocent. Then, Roach started noticing more. He started to get a tad uncomfortable. It wasn’t so innocent anymore. Soap’s comments went from playful to borderline catcalling. He’d whistle when Roach went by, his eyes caught on the curve of his ass. Roach would always start moving a bit faster, his face going a bright red. It didn’t feel like a friendly joke, it felt real. 

Then there was the flirting. The way that Soap would lean in all too close to him and whisper something about helping Roach “rearrange his furniture” or having Roach “test out the new bed in his room.” All while his fingers would trace along Roach’s arm temptingly. Roach would always end up scurrying out of the room, desperate to be able to breathe away from Soap’s touch. 

His hands grew bolder. He still hid behind excuses, grabbing at Roach’s hips to move him out of his way. Touching Roach’s ass as he gave him a boost over a wall on a mission, claiming it was an accident, just where his hand landed. Roach would never point out that the grope to his ass surely wasn’t an accident. Roach never said anything, and maybe that was his mistake. Maybe if he had said something he could have nipped it in the bud before it had grown to what it was now. 

Now? Now Soap had lost all shame. He’d moved past hiding his desire and his perverted actions from Roach and turned to just hiding it from the rest of the team. Now Roach found himself being groped any time Soap got a chance. God forbid if he made the mistake of bending over in front of Soap. He’d be likely to find himself sprawled on the floor from the force in which Soap would slap his ass. 

Roach would always turn to him with a glare, but Soap would just shrug with that smug asshole smirk on his face and say that if Roach didn’t want it, he shouldn’t have flaunted himself like that. Roach would gape at him, unable to do anything other than stare as he watched Soap strut out of the room. 

Now the comments were more graphic. Quick descriptions of what Soap wanted to do to him in the uniform he was wearing, all whispered in his ear at random times. Quick words of how well Soap knew that he would be able to take his cock, how much he would love taking his cock. Roach would never be able to respond, always finding his mouth going dry, his face going red, and an embarrassing wetness pooling between his thighs and threatening to soak his boxers. 

Then there was the journal. That stupid fucking journal that Soap was always carrying around with him. Around the other members of the 141, Soap was like a guard dog over it, ready to snap at any of them who even tried to sneak a peak. Roach had even seen him take a swipe at Gaz for simply walking behind him while he’d been working in the little journal. 

It wasn’t like that for Roach. No, no, it was like Soap wanted Roach to see his journal, to see every filthy thing that he’d drawn and written inside of it. The first time that Roach had seen it, Soap had gotten up to get a drink and left the journal wide open next to him on the couch. Roach had only glanced at it for a moment before doing a quick double take, his mouth falling open as he observed the various drawings laid out on the two open pages of the journal. 

Sketch upon sketch of him in various lewd positions. It was clearly meant to be him and, just in case he couldn’t recognize himself from his appearance, Soap had added a helpful little arrow that labeled one of the drawings of him with his name. 

There was one of him on his knees, the very tip of a thick cock laid on his tongue as he drooled around it. Another was him on his back, his own fingers buried deep in his cunt as his back arched off the bed, juices dripping from between his thighs. Then there was the other page, each of the drawings there featuring him with a man splitting him open on his cock. It didn’t take Roach long to figure out who the man with the mohawk was meant to represent. 

When Soap had returned to the couch and spotted Roach looking at the journal with a burning red face, he only grinned. He took the journal back into his hands and leaned back against the arm of the couch he was on, a smirk tugging at his lips as he began sketching on the pages. He would look up at Roach occasionally like he was referencing back to his face to make sure he got everything right. 

Roach had made his escape only moments after that. Scurrying back to his room to bury his face in his pillow as an embarrassing arousal flooded his system. 

And the most bold move that Soap had started with was the clothing.

Roach hadn’t noticed it at first. A few of his boxers and shirts missing from the laundry room weren't anything to worry about. After all, it could have been anything. He could have misplaced them or they could have ended up in someone else's things by mistake. He didn't think much of it, he was sure they would turn up sooner or later.

They had turned up, just not how he'd expected or wanted them to. He'd come back to his room after a conference with Price one day, just a check-in for how he'd been settling on the team, making sure he was getting along with the other team members. Simple things. Roach had said nothing about Soap. He'd hoped that the other’s perverted behavior and strong advances on him would simply fade with time.

Then he'd come into his room, finding a pair of his missing boxers crumpled up onto his bed. He'd blinked at the sight of them, wondering how they'd ended up there of all places. Then he'd grabbed them and realized with a startling yelp exactly where his boxers had been. He didn't think he'd ever rushed to a bathroom to wash his hands quicker than he had at that moment.

He knew it was Soap. He wasn't an idiot. The smirk that the other man had given him when they'd run into each other again on his way to rush to the laundry room was enough to fill him in, even if he hadn't suspected him. The following week saw all of his missing clothes being returned one by one, each covered in the evidence of Soap's perverted desire for him. 

Soap hadn't stopped, he'd only grown bolder from there, even going so far as to sneak into Roach's room and take care of himself using Roach's pillow. Roach knew he wouldn't stop either. The other man would just keep going until he was satisfied with whatever he wanted from Roach. Whether it was just his body or all of him, it didn't matter. It wouldn't stop.

Roach knew he should have gone to Price. Should have raised a sexual harassment complaint against the man the moment he'd seen those drawings in the journal. The issue was that he had no proof of what Soap was doing. For as big of a perverted asshole as Soap was, he was a careful asshole. He'd never been anything but polite to Roach in front of the others. He'd hidden his tracks well, no evidence of him taking Roach's clothes or sneaking into his room or groping him. Roach could do nothing to prove it.

And, while he didn't necessarily need perfect proof, he knew that if he didn't have hard enough evidence the simple answer would be to separate Soap and Roach onto different teams. And since Soap had been on the 141 longer, it would likely be Roach on the chopping block. He wasn't willing to risk that, not everything he'd worked for. And definitely not over that asshole Soap MacTavish.

Roach had done everything in his power to avoid Soap. He didn’t want to find out exactly how the other man planned to step up his antics next, so he’d made a point to never be left alone with the Sergeant. Of course, he couldn’t avoid everything, and Soap always found an excuse to be touching him. 

And, of course, Soap wasn’t an idiot. He’d clearly noticed that Roach was doing his damnedest to ignore and avoid him. The sudden frequency of his clothes going missing and the little drawing of him bent over a desk with a hand palming over his cunt and a clear handprint on his ass that had mysteriously shown up in his room was enough to tell him that Soap had noticed. Roach was nervous, especially as he could feel Soap’s eyes following him practically anywhere he went. 

He felt paranoid. He hated the unwanted attention that the other man continued to find a way to give him. At least he told himself over and over that he hated the attention even as he kept that little drawing that had shown up in his room. Even if he found that he stopped caring so much about finding his missing clothing soiled on his bed. 

He didn’t want what Soap was offering, so he’d done everything in his power to avoid the man. Of course, luck had never particularly been his strong suit, so it was only a matter of time before the universe decided that Roach couldn’t avoid Soap any longer. Roach just wondered if it had to happen just as he’d finished showering.

He was in the locker room, not by his own choice but by a cruel twist of fate. The water heater for his half of the building had gone and offed itself, so he’d elected to shower in the locker room rather than deal with freezing his ass off in his own shower. 

Roach hadn’t thought much about it when he’d come into the locker room to someone else already showering in one of the other stalls. He assumed it was some other poor sap who’d lost the hot water in their room just as he had. So he’d just taken his own stall and started washing away the grime that had accumulated on his skin from the day’s training. 

Distantly he picked up on the other shower turning off and whoever was there stepping out of the shower but, again, he paid it no mind. He just continued his usual routine of scrubbing his skin near raw to rid himself of the lingering feeling of dirt and sweat clinging to his skin. He’d assumed that the other person would have gone by the time that he’d finished. 

Of course, that wasn’t the case and, when he’d stepped out of the shower with only a towel around his waist, dread seemed to pool in his gut. There, leaned casually against the locker in a wife beater and a pair of loose sweatpants was Soap, that stupid fucking smirk on his face as he met Roach’s eyes. 

“Fuck,” Roach muttered under his breath. He tightened his grip on his towel before starting toward his things as quickly as he could. “Soap,” he acknowledged with a snap as he moved past the man and over toward his bag.

“Roach,” Soap sounded delighted with this turn of events. Delighted and all too smug. “Haven’t seen you in a minute.”

“You saw me at training today.”

“You know what I mean.” Soap pushed himself off of the locker, “Like this. Just the two of us. Blissfully alone.”

Roach opened the small bag he’d brought with him, digging through it to try and find his clothes, his brow wrinkling as he pushed past his extra towel and other necessities. “Have you considered that us not being left alone might have been purposeful? That maybe I don’t want to be alone with you?”

“Come on now,” Soap moved casually closer to him, and out of the corner of his eye, Roach could see the wicked grin that the man was wearing. Something about it spelled trouble for him, but he did his best to ignore it. “You can stop playing this game of yours, Roach, I know you want me. It’s easier if you just say it.”

“Want you?” Roach gave a frustrated laugh, “In your fucking dreams MacTavish.” He gave a grunt as he shoved more things aside in his bag. He couldn’t find his fucking clothes. It didn’t make sense, they were supposed to be right there when he opened his bag. Easy to grab and change into. Now, though, it was like they’d disappeared-

Roach froze, horror filling him as his mind snapped into place. The fucker hadn’t. He wouldn’t. Surely he wasn’t so bold. He didn’t want to believe it, but a large part of him already knew. He stayed still for a long moment until Soap, with that smug asshole voice of his asked, “Something wrong?”

��Where are they?” Roach snapped, abandoning his bag to round the bench and poke at Soap’s chest. “Give them back, this isn’t funny!”

Soap’s grin never fell from his face, even as he asked, “Give what back?”

“My clothes you asshole!”

“Ohhh,” Soap gave a dramatic shake of his head. “Silly me. You want to know what I did with your clothes?”

“Yes,” Roach snapped at him, feeling rage and embarrassment tugging at his chest. He could not believe that this was happening to him. That Soap would be so bold as to make a move like this in the locker room of all places. Of course, he shouldn’t have been surprised. If Soap was willing to break into his room and jerk off against his pillow, he was likely willing to do much worse. “Where are they?”

“Ah, I set 'em aside for a bit. Like you better like this anyways.” His eyes raked down Roach’s body and Roach resisted the urge to shiver. He swore that he could feel the look that Soap gave him on his skin, touching him just as the man in front of him so clearly wanted to do. “The uniforms good but this?” He gave a low whistle and Roach could feel his face go red. Whether it was from anger or embarrassment, he couldn’t be sure. 

“You fucking prick!” Roach gave a quick harsh shove at Soap’s chest, knocking him back a few inches. Soap’s smirk only seemed to grow at the move, making Roach feel all the more annoyed with him. “Is it not enough to harass me at every turn? I can’t have a single break from your shit, can I?” 

“My shit?” Soap closed the distance between them again. “Imagine being me, dealing with your ridiculous teasing.” Roach gaped at him at those words, completely taken aback by the implications of what Soap was saying. “You in that fucking uniform, always bending over in front of me, flaunting those pictures of you at the gym and in your fucking civvies? Gets my cock fucking twitching just talking about it.” He tilted his head back with a slight groan at the thought. 

“You are such a fucking perv!” Roach took a step away from the other man. “I mean I should have known considering you broke into my room to jerk it against my pillow.” Soap took a step forward, following Roach as he backed away, trying to put any distance that he could between the two of them. “I’d at least hoped that around all the thinking with your dick, there was a part of you that respected me.” His back hit the cold tile of one of the shower stalls and soon enough he found himself caged in place as Soap’s hands hit the wall on either side of his head. “Should have known, you’re just another perverted asshole.” 

Soap made a playful clicking sound with his tongue before shaking his head. “Oh no, Bug, you’ve got me all wrong. I do respect you.” He brought one of his hands down to push a strand of wet hair away from Roach’s forehead. He seemed oddly sincere for a few moments.  “I respect you so much I mean, I want you on top…and on your back. And on your knees.”

“You fucking-” 

Roach couldn’t say more around the tongue that forced its way into his mouth and the knee that shoved its way between his thighs, pressing against his cunt through the towel blocking his modesty. The pressure was downright deadly, a slow and steady pressure against his clit that had his hands shaking as he went to push at Soap’s shoulders, a weak attempt to get the man to move away. He didn’t know if he actually wanted Soap’s heat away from his body. 

It was almost cathartic for him, in an odd way. Finally having Soap pressed up against him, finally having the other man act on his disgusting thoughts and the desire he so clearly felt for Roach. The desire that had driven him to do so much, to push the boundaries, and now to take what he desired. It was like the final piece of a puzzle that he’d been trying to finish for months. 

Soap’s hands grabbed at Roach’s hips, pinning him to the wall pressed tight against his own body. When Roach tried again to pull away from his mouth, Soap was quick to move and wind a hand into Roach’s hair, gripping tight enough to pull a gasp of pain from Roach’s lips. He didn’t even act like he noticed Roach’s hands trying to push him away like Roach wasn’t strong enough even to bother him. 

After a short moment, Soap pulled his mouth away from Roach’s, still holding tight to his hair to keep him in place. He gave a downright predatory grin toward Roach, a small chuckle slipping from his lips. “Is that all you can give as a struggle? I thought you’d at least pretend that you didn’t want me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Roach hissed, shoving at Soap’s chest harder, “and get the fuck off of me you fucking asshole!”

“God,” Soap bounced his leg, forcing a small whine from Roach’s throat, “Look at you. You want my cock so bad, don’t you baby?” He yanked Roach away from the wall and, with a small fight between the two men, eventually forced Roach to the ground, splayed out on his back with his legs bracketing Soap’s waist. The towel around his waist was lost in the struggle, so he could do nothing but shiver at the cold press of tile against his back and feel shame creeping up his spine as Soap drank in the sight of his cunt. 

Roach squirmed in Soap’s grasp, trying to kick his legs out and at the very least get the man to look anywhere other than where his gaze was fixed. It only resulted in Soap’s hands gripping tight to his thighs, tight enough to bruise, all to hold him in place as he took in his fill. Roach could have died from embarrassment as he felt heat pooling in his gut from the move. Between his thighs felt much slicker than it had moments ago and based on the shit-eating grin that crossed Soap’s face, he’d noticed it. 

“Like being manhandled, don’t you?” Soap leaned down and nipped at his chest, following the move with a quick soothing slide of his tongue. Roach gasped at the feeling and reacted on instinct, reaching out to smack at Soap’s shoulder, glaring at him as he did. Soap didn’t let that go too easily, immediately removing his hands from Roach’s thighs to pin his arms down. He lowered himself until his face was hovering just over Roach’s, his clothed cock pressed tight against Roach’s wet cunt. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Soap rolled his hips forward, starting a slow rolling grind of his hips, groaning and panting as he did. He didn’t hide how much he was enjoying himself, from rutting his hard cock against Roach and panting desperately in his ear, it was clear that this alone was quite enough for him. Roach couldn’t deny the desire that sparked in him at being treated in such a way, like nothing more than a pillow for Soap to hump. Nothing more than an object, a toy, for Soap to use. 

He tried to bite back his own moans at the friction of Soap’s sweatpants rubbing against his clit, but the feeling of it was too fucking good and not quite enough of what he wanted. He could tamper down most of his moans, but the gasping breaths and the whimpers were another story, and Soap’s laughter against his ear was enough to tell Roach that he’d noticed. 

“Doesn’t this feel right, bug? Pressed under my cock just like you were meant to be.”

Roach clenched his jaw and did his best to speak clearly around the ever-growing arousal in his chest and his own desire to just stop fighting against what Soap was saying. The slow pressure against his clit was almost enough to have him admitting it, admitting that he liked it and that this was exactly where he was meant to be. Instead, he responded, “Pinned under you when I’d rather it be anyone else? Nothing’s ever felt more wrong.”

“Well,” Soap pulled back and gave a wicked grin, his eyes tracing down Roach’s body as he spoke, “the wet spot at the front of my sweatpants says different, love. That’s all from this sweet cunt weeping for me.” He shifted Roach’s arms into one hand before tracing his fingers down Roach’s body until they met his cunt. He paused for a moment, a teasing heat right where Roach’s body was begging for his touch, he didn’t make the wait long.

His fingers traced along Roach’s slit slowly, collecting slick on them to make the sudden press against his clit all the smoother. Roach’s back nearly arched from the tile floors at the feeling, a strangled moan escaping his mouth as he tried to fight back the evidence of his pleasure. Soap looked like the cat who’d got the cream at the move, a smug sense of satisfaction radiating from his body as he worked his fingers in slow circles against Roach. Roach did his best to keep them down, but moans seemed to spill from his lips even without his permission.

“Do you,” he started, cutting himself off with a whimper and a slight tug against Soap’s hand as his hips jumped up against the fingers playing at him. “Do you not hear yourself?” His breathing was labored and Soap’s eyes seemed fixated on his body. From the red flush over his skin to the way that his fingers looked against his puffy clit. “What are you, some sort of dog? Salivating like I’m a slab of meat.”

Soap gave a quick playful snap of his teeth just by his neck, his fingers slipping away from Roach’s clit to begin toying at his slit. He pressed the tip of his finger into Roach, holding it there for a moment, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open just a bit as he began to sink the digit inside of Roach’s body. “I’ll fuck you like a dog,” he spoke, his voice sounding breathy and desperate. To Roach, it sounded like the other man was on a precarious edge, bound to fall and turn to something more violent. 

Roach only gave a small hum of pleasure as Soap sunk his finger in to the knuckle. Soap’s fingers were thick, thicker than his own and he was sure that if he was going to take the man’s cock, this would be necessary. “Need this, don’t you,” Soap muttered. “Cunts fucking tight, gonnae feel real good around me.”

Roach let his head knock back against the tile floor harshly, trying to get some sort of grip on himself as Soap began to slowly work his finger in and out of him, giving shallow little thrusts and crooks that just weren’t the right pace. It was a desperate few moments, but, finally, Roach stopped pretending that he didn’t want what was happening. 

His hips bucked up against Soap’s fingers, pulling a desperate moan from his mouth and surprising Soap enough that he paused, eyes wide. Roach could have shouted from the frustration he felt in that moment, instead, he settled on snapping, “You talk such a big game, come on then. Fuck me and maybe if you actually manage to get me off with your clumsy fingers and weak cock I’ll let you do it again.” 

Soap blinked wide at him for a moment before his face morphed into a brief picture of delighted rage. “Fucking slut.” He didn’t give Roach any sort of prep before shoving a second finger inside of him, immediately setting a rough pace with a slap of his palm against Roach’s clit with every thrust of his fingers. “We’ll see if you can still talk that shit when I’ve got you begging like a bitch in heat.” 

Roach moaned at the thought, his eyes fluttering just a bit as Soap’s hands grew just a bit rougher, a bit more possessive and demanding. The fingers fucking into his cunt were so good, filling and stretching him just right. Just right enough to have him squirming and jerking his hips up, already begging for another as they scissored him open and curled against his walls cruelly. It resulted in downright embarrassing noises spilling from his mouth, even as Soap gave him what he asked for and slowly began to work a third finger inside of him. 

“Have ta’ spread you open real good,” Soap’s words were spoken in a near growl, something rather brutal and beastly in the way that his hands tightened and his fingers became crueler, his thumb finding his clit to press him with constant stimulation. Roach was practically shaking as Soap leaned down, allowing his mouth to attack the exposed skin of his chest. 

His teeth and tongue began to tease at one of Roach’s nipples, laughter shaking his chest as Roach pressed up into the touch. “What happened to that fire, ah? Cat got your tongue?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Roach managed to mutter around the pleasure that seemed to be blocking his throat, “and keep fucking touching me.”

“What was that?” Soap’s words betrayed exactly what he wanted to hear, punctuated with the slowing of his fingers as they worked at Roach’s cunt. 

Roach gave a desperate whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation, tossing in Soap’s grasp in an attempt to gain even a little bit of it back. It didn’t work, and soon he found himself glaring up at Soap, shame burning his chest. “Fuck you.”

“Not until you ask me properly,” Soap teased. 

“Fuck,” Roach tossed his head back with a desperate sob. He knew that Soap would hold him to it as well. The man was a fucking sniper for god sake, he had to have the patience and control of a saint when he needed it and Roach would bet anything that he needed it now. “Please,” he spoke the words quietly. 

“What was that?”

“Please,” Roach spoke louder, a desperate sob pulling from his throat, “Please, Soap, just fuck me.”

“I thought you didn’t want it,” Soap leaned closer, letting his thumb just brush against Roach’s clit slowly, pulling another pleasured sob from Roach’s throat. “What was it you said? You’d prefer it if it was anyone else?”

“No,” Roach shook his head desperately. “Please, please I want it. Only need you to fuck me, need your cock. Please, Soap!” 

Soap gave a careful chuckle, pulling his fingers from Roach’s cunt and slowly releasing his arms. His hands moved down to the waistband of his sweatpants and Roach watched through the fog hazing over his mind as Soap pulled his sweatpants and boxers down over his ass, allowing him to finally get a look at the thick hard cock that had been straining against the material. Roach nearly moaned at the sight of it, knowing that it would feel fucking perfect splitting him open. 

Roach spread his legs wide for the man, moaning at the feeling of those hands returning to his thighs, one of them now covered in his own arousal. Their grip was near bruising as Soap lined his cock up with Roach’s cunt, slowly pushing himself until he had just the tip resting inside of Roach. He paused there, tilting his head back with a guttural groan before his eyes returned to Roach’s. They were clouded in lust, but Roach could still see the amusement that plagued them as he teased, “Told you I’d have you moaning like a bitch in heat.”

Roach didn’t get a chance to respond before Soap slammed his hips forward, sinking all the way into his cunt with one smooth move. There was no chance to speak, no chance to even adjust as Soap continued pounding into him, driving his hips deeper and deeper into him with every thrust. Roach’s hands locked onto his shoulders, grabbing tight in desperation for any sort of stabilization.

Each rock of Soap��s hips sent Roach’s entire body knocking knocking harshly against the floor. Even Soap’s bruising grip on his thighs, the same one that he was using to keep Roach firmly in place, wasn’t enough against the strong thrusts that threatened to bruise his hips. There was something so good about the slide of Soap’s cock, every line and curve of it rubbing so perfectly inside of him, teasing parts of him that he was sure no one else had ever managed to touch. 

His nails dug into Soap’s shoulders, aiming to hurt even as the man above him sent pleasure coursing down his spine. He could see Soap wince and something about that brought a sick sense of satisfaction to him. At least that was until Soap gave him a grin, “Is that what you want baby? You want to hurt me a little?” He jerked down, slamming his mouth against Roach’s in a bruising kiss. His tongue invaded Roach’s mouth, sending their teeth clacking together and their noses bumping painfully. “Go on, Bug,” he pulled back, nipping at Roach’s lips until blood was spilling down his chin, “just know I’ll take full permission to hurt you back.” 

He pulled back again, resuming the quick pace of his hips as he leaned over Roach’s body, panting with blood on his lips. His eyes never seemed to leave Roach’s face, as though he was afraid to miss any second of pleasure from him. Roach couldn’t stand to hold his gaze, the mere thought of it making his face burn hotter than was comfortable for him. He needed something to focus on, something other than Soap and the intense look in his eyes.

He found it in the form of a swinging disk in front of his face. It slipped out from Soap’s wife beater, a shiny silver little disk that took to swaying with every thrust of his hips. Roach found himself mesmerized by it, the continued sway of silver and the near-melodic sound of skin slapping skin harshly. Roach had to fight against the desire to grab it and use it to yank the man down for another kiss, hoping to bite and bruise at his lip just the way he’d done to him. 

The thought of it pulled a whine from his lips and he couldn’t help but arch up into the other man, desperate to feel more than just his hands on his skin. More than just the fat cock pounding into him and sending heat building between his legs. Everything was so good, so terribly fucking good and he hated it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re so fucking good.” Soap released one of his thighs to skate his hand across Roach’s bare chest, teasing at his nipples for a slow moment. He let his hand trace further up, wrapping around Roach’s neck loosely, providing only a slight pressure as he continued muttering filth. “Fucking slut, practically squeezing my cock. You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?”

“Fuck,” Roach whined, “You fucking perv, gonna be stroking your cock thinking about this for the next year, aren’t you?” He wrapped his hands around Soap’s wrist, lightly holding his hand in place against his neck. “Probably draw this in your little book of fantasies you sick fuck.” 

Soap groaned at the words, a small smirk formed on his lips as he responded, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a copy to have.” He tightened his grip momentarily, just flexing his hands. It reminded Roach of the power that the man had over him at the moment, and it only made him feel that much closer to spilling over Soap’s cock. 

“Bet you’d like that,” Roach had to work around his moans and the heavy breathing that a simple hand on his throat caused. “Probably imagine me with my fingers on my clit, maybe riding a cock screaming your name.”

Soap grasped tight to his neck then, using the grip to guide Roach’s back from the ground until they were face to face. He tilted his head, a nasty snarl on his face, “Now who’s the fucking dog.” He was quick to grab Roach’s arms, manhandling him around until he was on his hands and knees, Soap’s cock still spearing in and out of him. “Let me fuck you like the dog you are.” A short moment passed before Roach could feel a warm metal settle around his neck. A single look down and he could see that it was Soap’s I.D. disk. The mere sight of it was enough to have him moaning out, his arms giving out under him and forcing him to fall forward roughly against the tile. “And there’s my bitches collar.” 

Roach was sure that people outside of the locker room had to be able to hear them. There was no way that they couldn’t, not when Soap was fucking into his cunt so violently and pulling screams of his name from his lips like flowing wine. He couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t keep quiet. Not when his body was burning hot, contrasting with such a heavenly feeling against the cool tile of the floor. Not when he was sure that he wasn’t going to be walking straight by the time Soap finished with him. Not when he wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to resist another night like this with the pervert slamming his cock inside of him. 

He couldn’t form any words, couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate. He couldn’t get his brain to provide any help, his mind so foggy that any thoughts of insults were long past what he was capable of. All that he could do was scream and whine and beg for Soap to keep going. Keep going because it was the best he’d ever had. Keep going because he was so fucking desperate for him. Keep going because he was right there, right there at the edge. 

Soap never stopped. Roach could hear his smug laughter and he could practically see that smug fucking smirk on his face, but it did nothing to cut through the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through him. The pleasure built and built until his toes were curling and his cunt was clenching and he was coming over Soap’s cock with his vision going black and a pitiful scream pulled from his mouth. 

He could hardly register anything. Not Soap’s hips stuttering and the curses falling from his lips. Not the choked-out delight that the man gave as he fucked into Roach only a few more times before creating even more of a mess by filling him with his cum. Not the way that Soap continued to move, fucking his cum into Roach. Not even the slick dripping down his legs to pool into the puddle he’d created on the ground, the remnants of one of the most intense orgasms that he’d had in his life. 

When he finally was able to realize what was going on around him, it was because he was being lifted from the ground, Soap’s cock still snug inside of his cunt as he was forced to wrap his legs around the other's waist and his arms around his neck. He could only watch dumbly as Soap brought them over to one of the shower stalls and turned the handle, shocking them both with a burst of cold water over their bodies. It was soon soothed by a stream of warm water, though Roach thought perhaps the cold would have been better as he was pressed against the wall of the little shower stall. 

“Not done with you yet,” Soap grunted, his eyes still showing a sort of intense hunger that had Roach’s cunt pulsing with need. “I’ve got other ways to make you scream my name and I don’t think I’ve heard you begging quite enough for my tastes. Have to put my dog to work, don’t I?”

Roach was walking with a limp the next day. His legs were still shaky and there were bruises on his thighs and his neck and he was sure he looked exhausted. Soap hadn’t let him get too much sleep the night before. Plain and simple, Roach was sure he looked a mess as he stumbled into the conference room where Gaz, Ghost, and Price were waiting for him and Soap. 

Soap wasn’t there yet, a bit of a blessing as Roach was sure that he wouldn’t be able to handle looking at the man quite yet. It was too much, too soon. He needed a moment around the others before he could face Soap again. God knows when he’d be able to face the man alone again. 

As he stumbled into the conference room, he did his best to look as normal as he could. It clearly didn’t work as, within a second, Ghost was at his side. His arm wrapped around Roach’s waist, his hand grabbing at his upper thigh to help stabilize him as he stood. Roach felt himself go a bit red, noticing the scrutinizing gaze that Price sent his way. Gaz seemed to be watching him just as closely as though he was also trying to figure out what had happened. 

“Not going to fall on me, are you?” Ghost asked, his voice dropping into a soft mutter. 

Roach was quick to shake his head, an embarrassed smile lighting up his face. “No, sorry I uh, rough night last night.”

Price leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m guessing Soap finally stopped with his little games and took you like he wanted?”

Roach could feel shock rush through his body, nearly knocking him over and forcing him to lean further onto Ghost for support. Ghost didn’t seem to mind much, simply, tightening his grip. “You,” he stuttered over himself for a moment, “You knew?”

“What,” Gaz was the one who chimed in, a small innocent smile on his face, “You think Soap was making those drawings just for him? Think he was able to sneak into your room so easily without a key from the cap?” He leaned forward then, tapping the table and shaking his head at Roach, “Didn’t think you were that naive, Bug.”

Roach gaped at the two men for a moment, his eyes shooting between them. “Maybe,” Price started, reaching into one of his pockets to pull out a cigar, “he’ll share some of the new ones, based on the real thing with us.” 

“Fuck,” Gaz gave a groan and leaned back in his seat, his eyes dragging along Roach’s body. “Maybe if we’re lucky he’ll share the real thing with us.” 

“I think,” Roach felt dizzy for a moment, “I think I need to sit down.”

Immediately, Ghost started helping him toward one of the seats at the little conference table, but Roach wasn’t a fool. He could feel Ghost’s hand slide purposely from his thigh over his ass, grasping at him for a short moment before sliding his hand up to trace along his waist. Roach nearly fell into the seat as soon as he was able, his eyes wide as he looked up at Ghost. “You too?” 

Ghost made a point to lean close to him, so close that Roach could feel his breath through the mask before he finally whispered, “Sounded good yelling for Johnny last night. You’ll sound better screaming for me.” 

He stood up straight then, as though he hadn’t said anything at all, and started back toward his seat, plopping down with a casual move that had Roach feeling dizzy. 

He supposed he should have seen this coming. After all, the only way that Soap could have gotten away with all that he did was if he had a team backing him. A team with the same perverted fantasies running through their minds. 

[yearninqheart]

fine line

We’ll be a fine line, we’ll be alright.

pairing: regulus black x reader

word count: 2.6k

tags: gender-neutral!reader, non-magic/muggle au, exes to lovers—technically, some angst, some fluff, reader is mentioned to be sick, sort of implies player!reg, trust fund kid!reg, potter!reader (the occupation, not the surname)

warnings: Walburga Black gets her own warning (briefly mentioned), mentions of eating, not proofread sorry. lmk if i missed anything please!

notes: let’s not talk about how i dipped after posting two sandman fics and a (now cancelled) series master for c!w*lbur i never even posted chapter one for. but anyways, heyy how’ve y’all been?? <3 if you follow my main this isn’t even the fic i’ve been talking about, technically. i have a longer reg fic in the works that i hope to finish one day atp lmao. let me know what you think of this fic in the meantime though, i’m apologize for my rusty writing this is more so a writing practice for me but i did have this prompt in my notes for a while so, here she is!

"It took you long enough." Regulus said with a huff, hand still midair about to knock before you had swung the door open, which leads you to the situation you were now thrust into: your ex-boyfriend standing in your doorway with bags of groceries and takeout in hand.

"Regulus I'm really-" He barely lets you speak before easily letting himself in, setting the bags onto your countertops as he began preparing whatever it was he had bought. "Not in the mood right now..."

Seeing as he's already throwing ingredients into one of your pots, there would be no use in even trying to get him to leave so you shut the door behind you and decided to take a seat at the island, watching as he worked. However, the moment you even took a step forward he was setting down the knife and urging you to go to bed.

"You need to rest, I don't care how much sleep you say you got, you need more. Go. I'll leave some tea by your nightstand." Was all he said before guiding you back to your room and closing the door, barely letting you face him before the door closed, leaving you with too many thoughts when all your body wanted was to curl back into bed. And given that Regulus was seemingly going to be making dinner, there was really no reason to not listen to him. 

When you woke up again, who knows how many hours later, you found a cup of tea by your nightstand as promised, steam coming off the top of it as you took a sip. It briefly brought a small smile to your face before you remembered who exactly it was that put it there.

You felt much better as you got out of bed, taking a moment to stretch before walking towards the hallway where Regulus' voice was slightly muffled due to the soft music he had left on in the background. It was a song you had once loved and played whenever Regulus came over for dinner after work. It's been a while since he's last entered your home as your boyfriend, but he seems content to live in ignorance bliss whenever he comes over-oftentimes unannounced and/or invited —and the song just so happens to appear in the queue.

Your current relationship with Regulus was complicated. The two of you had broken up nearly five months ago, putting an end to a three year relationship that was going seemingly well. One would've thought such a sudden break would cause a rift between you two (it was what you were hoping for anyways) but it appears that Regulus doesn't seem to care. You're certain he's doing it out of spite, but another part of you hopes that there's more to his actions than simply 'spite". It wasn't easy choosing to end such a perfect relationship after all, much less your choice.

As you entered the kitchen, you were met with Regulus' back as he hunched over your countertop, focused on cutting the tomatoes just right even though he knows you hate them (he says it helps with the flavour and you agree, but that doesn't stop you from hating them). You watch as he finishes prepping the food, moving effortlessly around your kitchen to find the exact items he needs. Everything is still where they were when you kicked him out five months ago, and he knows you well enough that that'll never change.

"The salt's on the table."

Except for the salt and pepper, since you were too lazy to put it back after using them last night.

"Good Morning sunshine." He joked, enjoying the way your eyes rolled at the stupid nickname as you stepped towards him.

"Whatcha making?"

"Stew. It just needs to simmer a bit more so that the vegetables cook. Do you want to freshen up while I finish up here?"

You give him a nod, your body stiffening when the normalcy between you makes you forget that you're no longer dating and you catch yourself almost leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder. Too embarrassed to even look up at him, you quickly ran off to your bathroom before he could say another word.

By the time you were back, Regulus was just done setting up the dinner table. A part of you hated how you left his spot vacant even after all that's happened. You were in a new city starting anew, you didn’t need a second sea at your dinner table. However, the other part seemed to enjoy how naturally Regulus filled that spot, both the seat across from yours at the table and your home in general. Despite your numerous attempts of trying to push him out of your life he has simply refused and made it apparent he was staying in your life one way or another. Whether that be as your lover or a friend, he was there to stay.

"Dinners ready!" He hummed, catching your attention as he nodded towards your seat.

He was going to turn in the direction opposite of the table but upon noticing your silence, understood and added, "I'll join you in a sec, just going to put these dishes in the sink."

That seemed to be all you needed to hear as you took your seat at the small dinner table, waiting patiently as Regulus allowed the dishes to soak before wiping down the countertops then joining you at the table.

The meal, aside from simple requests of can you pass me some napkins and where's the salt, was silent. Music that you are now certain is playing from the playlist you made after he had moved into the apartment was still playing in the background and brought forth a wave of nostalgia you didn't think you'd get. The normalcy of it all was frustrating however, and you didn't mean to slam your spoon onto the table but he didn't even appear to be fazed by your sudden outburst. It was about time this happened. 

"Why do you keep doing this?" You asked, watching as he simply continues to finish his stew, refusing to look you in the eyes for once.

"Doing what?"

"This!" You gestured around you exaggeratedly. "Visiting me still, cooking for me, keeping me company. We broke up already, Regulus."

"I know." Came his response.

"So why do you keep showing up?" There was no malice to your question. No venom coated words or sharp tongue, only pure curiosity seeing as you've raked your mind for months wondering why he wasn't leaving you alone despite all your efforts.

For a moment, Regulus remained quiet. He didn't look up at you nor did he say a word, slowly finishing his stew and wiping his mouth before setting the plate aside to finally look at you.

"Why are you so persistent we distance ourselves?"

You almost scoffed at his question. For one, you two were now no longer dating, so why continue to see each-other as often as you did whilst dating. Secondly, neither of you will be able to properly heal and move on if the very person you've chosen to leave is still in your everyday life. And thirdly… his mother.

Walburga Black is the wife of a wealthy man in London. Wealthy enough that she was able to fund your entire move to Scotland where she had hoped would be far enough for Regulus to leave you alone and also powerful enough that she was able to even achieve that wish in the first place. The relocating part at least it seems. She had given you a generous job offering for a company she had connections to. It paid better than your job back home and allowed you some extra cash so that you wouldn’t be living paycheck to paycheck. All she asked of you was to ‘leave Regulus alone’. 

Obviously you had refused at first, but with a status like hers and the connections she had, it would not be worth going against her. A week after her initial offer, you had agreed to her deal with a sullen mood as she transferred an additional cheque to your account for ‘being so understanding’. You bit your tongue and simply thanked her before being escorted out of her office and to the car waiting outside. Regulus was currently on a trip to New York, so by the time he landed your cell would be deactivated and your apartment would be bare, leaving behind no traces of you or your relationship for him to hold. 

“This will be better for him.” Walburga had told you. “If there’s no traces of you ever being there, it’ll be easier for him to move on. We don’t need him clinging onto the past now do we?” 

You had agreed, because what else were you to do? 

Even you had assumed Regulus would stay in London. He had everything there, why throw it all away? But it appears that both you and his mother underestimated his dedication–although it is what continues to confuse you every time you see his face. 

"Why did you come all the way here?" Your voice was so soft he almost had to strain to hear you. "You had everything back home, why did you abandon it all just to come here? Don’t you miss your old lifestyle?"

The way he was looking at you made you feel like the answer was blatantly obvious. His brows were furrowed as he tilted his head sideways, appearing to be carefully choosing his next words before sitting up on his chair, letting his elbows rest on the table as the next song started to play from the speaker.

"I had everything back in London because I had you. What good is anything back there if you're suddenly on a train heading north?"

There it was, the confirmation you had both been dreading and waiting to hear since you stepped foot into your new apartment.

"But your mother-"

"Bought us a nice apartment to live in, I know. Such a sweet parting gift don't you think?"

You could almost laugh, had it not been for how hard your heart was pounding at the confirmation you had been waiting to hear for so long. Ironic how despite practicing how you would react when the time came you were now rendered frozen as you tried to come to terms with the fact that it finally happened.

"Regulus," You started but he cut you off by calling your name and for the first time in five months, he looked just like your Reg. He looked at you as if it hasn't been the most excruciating five months for you both, with such a tender and sweet expression you could almost melt.

You had expected the worst. Had practiced your defences for when the fight would occur but it never had the chance to bloom. Instead of getting upset, Regulus simply placed your hands in his, a thumb smoothing over the tops of your knuckles before speaking.

"Perhaps I did have everything," He began. "But I don't know why you subconsciously view me as the kind to even care if I inherit the company or not. They could give it all to the intern for all I care and I'd let them. They can take my name off their will, take back my cards and properties too and it wouldn’t even matter to me."

He saw you open your mouth to speak and cut you off before a sound could even pass your lips.

"I love you." He reminded you for the first time in five months. "I love you, even if it means I am no longer an heir to a multimillion company and my family hates me. Truly I don't care for them if the answer has always been you."

It was almost deafening how hard your heart was pounding, threatening to burst out of your chest any second now if you didn't calm down but how could you possibly do that? How could you even think to calm down when he’s just confessed his love for you at the expense of everything he’s ever known and had. 

Regulus did not say anything further, instead letting you take it all in as he hummed softly along to music while his thumb continued to run over the ridges of your knuckles.

After a moment, he brought your hands towards his face and pressed a kiss to it before clasping his other hand around your own. "I thought I was pretty forward to everyone about my affections towards you, was I not clear enough?" He mumbled quietly.

He was. Upon his first time meeting you, there was a visible shift in his attitude which all of his friends had quickly noticed. He'd decline offers of going out in favour for a quiet dinner at his penthouse with you, cancel on clubbing because you wanted to explore the waterfront when you couldn't sleep at night, he even took up pottery classes since you worked at a studio nearby his apartment and it would mean Regulus could be in your presence for longer, even if he would be bailing on a flight to Paris that his friends had invited him to.

(He thought they would get the hint that he no longer cared for partying but instead began inviting you to come along as well after he introduced you to them.

Regulus had quickly shut them down, though that didn't stop Mary from giving you her number so that you could make plans later.)

All to say that not once since you met him, did Regulus make it unknown or unclear that he was utterly in-love with you. So why did you doubt him when his mother sent you away?

His mother was the simple answer. But as he encouraged you to elaborate, Walburga turned out to only play a fraction of that fear. It was the thought of ripping him from the lifestyle he knew and was accustomed to, from the title and norms he's been raised to adhere to. Sure Walburga was also terrifying, but more so was the thought that Regulus would be throwing away all he ever knew just because of a little crush. 

Business meetings since he was a child, attending galas dressed to the nines with a flock of eligible girls hanging off his arm, fancy dinner parties in different cities every night–if not the most exclusive in the city for when he decides to stay home–was nowhere close to your everyday life. In all honesty, your paths were probably never meant to cross but somehow managed to intertwine at just the right moment, for the love of your life to be here with you now. Now you understand however, that despite the differences in your upbringing and previous lifestyle, this is what he now wants–a simple, easy lifestyle with his lover by his side. 

"I'm sorry." You apologized with a sigh, finally feeling the defeat of the act you've put up since Walburga got into your head about "tarnishing his image".

"Why are you apologizing, love?" A hand came up to hold your cheek, while the other drew comforting circles on top of your own.

"For listening to your mother?" You offered with a short laugh although it didn't quite reach your eyes. It never did whenever his mother was the topic. He couldn't blame you, but that was now in the past.

"Forget her, we'll be alright now."

taglist, lmk if you want to be added/removed! @retvenkos @with-love-anu @screennamealreadyused @princekooks @jackys-stuff-blog

[the-anonmaton]

Whatever Feels Right

Chapter 2 / 4 - Preliminary

Relationships : Sevika x Reader Characters : Sevika, Original Female Character Rating: Explicit Tags : Kissing, Making Out, Nipple Play, Biting, Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Dom Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Body Worship, Nudity, Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Safe Sane and Consensual, Aftercare, Gentle Kissing, Undressing, Licking, Foreplay, First Time, bottom reader, Virgin Reader, Anxiety, Soft Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Angst, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Panic Attacks, Awkward Conversations, Angst and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort Chapters : 4 ( 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ) Words : 17,331

Summary:

What about your first time with Sevika?

CONTENT WARNING: This fic is about an inexperienced reader and the need to stop during her first time, since she’s not ready. Chapter 4 is where some second thoughts are expressed and some anxiety-heavy stuff and panic, but Sevika is a thoughtful lover, so everything is fine.

**********

"Okay. Let's go home."

**********

And here you were, back to the place you both called home, in your shared bedroom, both still dressed, you sitting at the edge of the mattress, her walking towards you after discarding her cloak on the floor in the middle of the room.

The walk back to your home was a blur. You couldn't think straight or focus anywhere, let alone at the path you have crossed every day to and from work. You could only rely on the warm hand holding yours and trust it to guide you through the streets. But the only constant thing from the bar to where you were now sitting on the bed was the excitement you felt. You would finally take the next step with the woman you love and you felt so stupid it took you so long. You loved her and wanted to share everything with her.

Once she crossed the room and got to you, she knelt down in front of you, put her hands on either side of your face and made sure to catch your eyes. You never lost track of them. How could you? Your hands flew to her wrists, just holding her, grounding yourself.

"If for a second it doesn't feel right, you tell me. Okay?"

You could only nod. You haven't said a word since you left the bar. You thought that if you did the only thing that would come out of your mouth would be a scream. A good one though. No, the embarrassment would be too much, so you remained silent.

"Words, baby. Please." You felt the hands cupping your face pulling just a little, so she could get your attention and make you focus.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath through your nose, held it and let it out slowly from your mouth. A simple technique that always worked when anxiety tried to get the better of you. But the fact that she was always there, along with the patterns her thumbs were now tracing on your cheeks, managed to calm your nerves and excitement, to make you open your eyes and you finally felt that you could utter a few words.

"Okay."

Fine, it was one word. But she deemed it enough, since she seemed to relax and stood up. But before she let go of your face, she leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips and you hummed at the gesture.

"I love you, baby." She whispered, her lips ghosting over yours.

"I love you." You answered back with a smile and a trembling voice caused by your excitement.

"Tell me, okay?" She once again asked, and you once again nodded.

**********

You knew Sevika was always aware of her actions and never did anything without some sort of reason. That's what you thought when she started stripping in front you. Of course you’ve seen each other half-naked before. She wasn't particularly shy and she would get ready in the mornings, pop in and out of a bath, or change out of her work clothes into some casual sleepwear without caring if you were in the room with her or not.

You on the other hand were quite conscious of your body, or of her seeing you even in your underwear. So, you would usually turn away to allow her some privacy, or mostly to allow yourself to change without the stress of her accidentally looking over at you. Once she caught up, which was almost instantly after you two got together, she started doing the same so you would feel comfortable and to not overwhelm you.

This thought was going through your mind while she was undressing. She never did anything without a reason. And now she was letting herself be vulnerable in front of you so you would know that it's okay. The thoughtfulness of your girlfriend could make your heart explode and if you could, you would fall in love with her all over again.

There was nothing sexy or seductive about her movements. She was just undressing, occasionally catching your eyes and smiling softly at you. Of course you knew about the muscles underneath her clothes and you always appreciated them whenever you were allowed a glimpse.

So now you were looking mesmerized by the view she was giving you. Her toned abs, her thick thighs, her broad shoulders, her biceps bulging whenever she moved, her blue scars a constellation over her dark skin. You were starting to feel lightheaded and she wasn't even fully naked. You loved her strong body and she knew it, so she would flex every now and then just to hear your sharp intake of breath and then chuckle and wink at you. Thank the gods for her silly little act, at least that would make you relax and take a breath or two.

But your ability to breathe was taken away from you when she finally dropped the last piece of clothing. She was a naked goddess in front of you and you felt so small. You could only sit there at the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets, just admiring your girlfriend. While she was undressing you tried to look everywhere you could, but now your only focus was on her breasts. On her full, dark, peaked nipples, on the goosebumps that appeared around them, on some other little scars hidden by her bra, on the full pattern of the blue streaks on her skin. Then your gaze shifted down to the full bush between her legs and you swallowed hard, before looking up and realizing she was moving again.

This time, your nude goddess of a girlfriend was once again in front of you and kneeling. She gently took your hands that were about to put a few holes in the sheets from how hard they were gripping at them and held them in her own, gently stroking the back of them with her thumbs. The sensory contrast between her cold metal and warm flesh would always help you relax whenever she held you like that.

"You okay?" Her soft voice helped you breathe a little easier.

"You're beautiful." You whispered, making her chuckle.

"Come here."

She pulled you up and now that you were both standing, your head was almost at the same height as her breasts and you awkwardly looked up at her, only to find her smiling at you, reassuring you. She guided your right hand to her waist and placed your left one above her right breast, over her collarbone. You had never touched each other so intimately. You felt unsure of what to do and you were certain she could feel the trembling of your hands on her skin.

"It's okay, you can touch, baby."

She was giving you permission. She knew you never had any experiences beyond a few kisses and make-outs with some exes, so now she was letting you explore and see for yourself what you liked. You looked down and tentatively moved the hand that was on her waist towards her stomach, feeling her abs and tracing with your fingers any scars in your path.

"I can flex if you want." In your stupor you didn’t expect to hear anything and you jumped before turning up to face her and see her smirking.

"What?" The buzzing in your ears didn't let you hear her clearly.

"I said, I can flex if you want." She said and she immediately flexed her abs.

The somewhat soft spot on her stomach that you were touching suddenly felt rock hard under your fingers, and you couldn't help but push a little harder, feeling the strong muscle.

"Damn you." You managed with a chuckle, letting both of your hands drop to your sides, while taking half a step back.

"What?" She followed you with half a step forward, the amusement evident in her voice and her smile.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Definitely not. Are you okay?" She took your now clenching hands and held them again, smoothing them open with gentle thumbs.

"Yeah, yeah. Are you okay though? With me touching you?" It seemed that she was doing everything to accommodate you and your nerves, and not caring at all about herself.

"I'm okay, don't worry. Just do what feels right." She said softly and placed your hands to their previous place on her body.

Your little back and forth was enough to calm you down. Once again Sevika had your back and made sure to help you relax, and you loved her for it. Damn, you wanted to give her everything.

And now you were back at it, exploring her body.

You moved your right hand that was once again resting on her waist and slid it down, just below her hip bone, the tips of your fingers touching the side of her ass cheek. You wondered what it would feel like if you slid your hand over her ass and gave a gentle squeeze, but you felt yourself holding your breath and you didn’t dare follow through with that thought. Instead you moved your hand again and went back up her side, stopping when you reached the height of her breasts.

Tentatively, you caressed with a thumb the skin below her left breast, over a rib, and you heard a sharp exhale above you. As much as you wanted to look up at her face to see her reaction, you couldn't. Because your touch caused more goosebumps to appear on her skin, on her breast and around her nipple.

You let your eyes wander over her chest that was right in front of you. Her breasts weren't full or round or perked up. They were on par with a woman of her physique, not small, but not big either, although weighed down by her age and gravity. You could see some faint stretch marks at their sides, a couple hairs just around her areola, a rather big diagonal scar starting over her right breast, where your other hand was now resting, and ending right in the middle of her chest. Finally, your eyes fell to her dark nipples, still looking painfully hardened, and ever so slightly moving with her every breath. You decided that her breasts were just perfect and you had a hard time looking away, or deciding how to proceed.

It must have been a couple of minutes with you just standing there, hands still on her body, before any coherent thought came to your tortured brain and you became aware of your dried mouth. So you licked your lips and tried to swallow, before turning your attention to the hand resting above her right breast, which felt like it was ready to catch fire.

With a feathery touch you glided the tips of your fingers down towards her breast, feeling the softness of it, but stopped right before you touched her raised nipple. Then you used your hand to cup her breast, lifted it up to feel its weight on your palm, gave it a tentative squeeze and you could swear that you heard a sharp inhale above you. But you couldn't look. You only had eyes for what was inches in front of you.

So while cupping her gently, you moved your thumb and dared to slide it over her nipple, right before pressing down on it with a little more force. You saw the frame in front of you expand, a clear sign of her taking a deep breath, and you followed her movement with hungry eyes and a hard swallow. You felt your mouth getting dry once again and the thought of taking that dark nipple into your mouth and sucking at it between your lips crossed your mind. But your nerves got the better of you, maybe you weren't ready for it.

Do whatever feels right.

So instead, your hands left her body, only for you to put them back on her shoulders. Using both hands in a symmetrical motion, you caressed her collarbones before running them up and down her arms, feeling her biceps and the hard muscles underneath. You were thirsty for something and you didn't know how you should proceed, so you looked up, making both of your now dark eyes meet, placed your hands behind Sevika's neck and gave a gentle tug to pull her towards you, a request.

She gladly followed, as she always did, and gave you the kiss you craved. It was slow and soft and reassuring and you pressed a little harder on her neck to hold her there for as long as she would allow. You felt her hands come to your waist, not to move you or bring you closer to her, but just to rest there, a reminder.

After breaking the kiss for some much needed air, you felt her soft raspy voice through the cloud of your mind.

"Can I take this off?" She breathed against your lips and you felt a tug on your shirt.

"Yeah, okay." You breathed out a whisper.

She gave you a quick kiss and pulled back to allow yourselves a little more space to maneuver. She must have been hearing your heart, almost ready to beat out of your chest, because her eyes were glued to yours, searching for any sign of discomfort, as her hands gripped the bottom of your shirt.

She gently pulled it up and you raised your arms to help her get rid of it. Once it was off, leaving you with your bra, she dropped it on the floor next to you, covered the distance she had put between you, cradled your face in her hands and kissed you again. You could only stay in place and close your eyes., trembling hands kept at your sides and following her lead. You would always follow her lead when she was kissing you. Your make-out sessions were evident of that and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You felt her pull away again, you felt her breath hitting your forehead and then you felt the absence of her hands on the sides of your face. Not a second later you jumped when her metal hand was placed on your shoulder and a warm one on your waist.

"Is this okay?" You heard her question.

With your eyes still closed you nodded. And then her hand on your waist began to mimic your own patterns when your positions were reversed a few minutes ago. You would swear it felt like hours had passed. Her feathery touch made you take several deep breaths when she reached your hip bone, letting them out of your mouth through stuttering exhales, and when her thumb caressed the skin below your breast, over a rib, you shuddered and felt goosebumps forming all over your body. And now you understood how she must have felt when you did this to her. Were you really able to make her feel this way? Did you have that power?

With her left metal hand still on your shoulder grounding you, she brought the other one to hook a finger through a loop of your jeans. You still hadn't opened your eyes, so you relied on your senses to feel what was happening around you.

"Can I take this off, too?"

As soon as you realized the implications of her question you felt nervous, excitement cursed through your entire body, your heart rate skyrocketed and you clenched your eyelids even tighter.

"Just the pants for now." She softly added.

You caught in her voice her attempt to reassure you that she would take things slow for you, and you were grateful for her looking out. So you nodded. You would always trust her. With your life, with your heart, and now with your body and your anxious self.

"I got you." She added and you felt her presence slowly disappearing, but not gone, only getting smaller as you realized she was kneeling in front of you.

You felt sure hands on your zipper as it was being pulled down, followed by another slight downwards pull, causing your pants to give way and fall on the floor. You swallowed, mouth dry, and you finally opened your eyes and dared to glance down. You were met with soft eyes and a kind lopsided smile, before Sevika's attention turned to your feet to help you get rid of your pants, where they were now pooling.

When your pants were thrown next to your shirt on the floor, she turned back to you. You couldn't deny the feeling of adrenaline caused by your position. Her kneeling naked in front of you and looking up, you above her, in just your underwear and looking down. Your mind was racing and you could only focus on her dark eyes and the shadow she was casting on her breasts.

You saw it before you felt it. Her right hand slowly reaching towards your calf. You tilted your head to the left to follow its movement and when she finally caressed you, you jumped even though you were expecting it. You could feel her gaze burning a hole into the side of your head, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from that hand. It began moving up and down a short path, from knee to ankle, occasionally stroking you with a thumb, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin, and you were mesmerized.

Suddenly, in your field of vision you saw a dark movement. It was her, more specifically her hair. She was looking straight ahead, and in her kneeling position she was at your thigh level. So her attention was there and she was moving forward, towards you, towards your thigh. You understood her intent and held your breath and clenched your fists, which now you noticed were already clenched and you were pretty sure that if you were to check you would see little indentations of your nails in your palms. So you stood there, unmoving and waiting.

And then her lips made contact with the top of your thigh, a gentle kiss, accompanied by a squeeze of her hand on the back of your calf, and you felt your knees ready to buckle.

"Sevika..." You stuttered out a breath, your voice betraying your desire.

She looked up at you. Her eyes were completely black and her lips were still connected to your skin. Then you saw a little glimmer in her eyes and the beginning of a smirk, and the next moment she opened her mouth, flattened her tongue, pressed down and licked.

"F-fuck." You whispered, feeling your soul leaving your body.

You blinked rapidly, shaking your cloudy head and somehow managed to stay upright as she pulled away and stood up with an amused smile.

"How about you lie down on the bed?"

**********

taglist : @opropheticsoul @archangeldyke-all

Thanks for reading! :)

[zhxngii]

⌗STARRING; Xiao, Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, & Kaveh ft. Kazuha, Thoma, Ayato, Childe, & Alhaitham.

⌗NOTE; This is my camboy post for my 400 followers mark, I hope you all enjoy. This is 18+ content so please mdni! also ps the collabs are threesomes.

                                ✰ MDNI. 18+ content ahead! ✰

𖤣 - XIAO's solo streams;

Despite how long he's been doing this he's still a bit shy to just jump into the action, and often tells his little fantasies or whatever he has planned for future streams. Whenever he's in the mood, which happens more than you think, he just gets so vocal. He doesn't tell you but whenever he reads the chat and see such messages praising him and telling him how good he looks like this it gets to him.

Favorite collab ➜ Kazuha

Xiao enjoys spending his time with you and kazuha, they'll take it pretty slow as they both want to savor this moment. They're both so gentle, almost too gentle with you as if you'd break if they were a bit too rough. They love praising you for doing such things, even reading out praises from the chat whenever they get the chance. You just take them both so well, it's enough to make them crazy.

𖤣 - DILUC's solo streams;

Whenever he's on stream he just jumps quick into what he has planned after giving a short little greeting. Whenever he's in the mood he often has the habit of mumbling to himself. "mmm you're s'good for me" "just like that" just a small bit of what he says. Does indeed like teasing himself, sometimes might even use toys if he's in the mood. sit back and enjoy the show.

Favorite collab ➜ Thoma

Diluc and thoma simply because the two think so much about just pleasing you in front of your viewers they often just forget about themselves only focusing on making you feel good. Even if you want to try so bad to get them both off it won't ever be easy, always expect to be put in a position where they both can make you cum multiple times.

𖤣 - KAEYA's solo streams;

Whenever he's in the moment he often reads the dirty shit anyone dares to type out in the chat, just when you think he might've not seen it, he has. Oh, you're so bold to say just how much you want him. Telling him the things you want him to do to you, don't chicken out now, he's here giving you what you want.

Favorite collab ➜ Ayato

The two being similar with their love for pet play of course they'd collab together, He enjoyed the sight of you completely submitting to the both of them as the good pet you were. Each and every one just happened to top the last, it was never a dull moment in it even you guys' supporters can agree. Whenever you're just on a leash for the two following every order they give it's such a sight to see.

𖤣 - ZHONGLI's solo streams;

He isn't too much of a fan of using toys on himself, whenever he's horny enough he'll rub one out for you. don't expect him to give in so easily though, he needs to know if you'll be good for him first then maybe he'll give you what you want if he's entertained enough.

Favorite collab ➜ Childe

He loves collabing with childe as he is just as needy as you, he enjoys sitting back watching you two go at each other with little to no patience. It wasn't until the first stream that he realized just how much it turns him on, he likes being able to guide both of you, even more when you two beg him for some sort of release as you can't hold it anymore. If anything, the both of you know how weak it gets him.

𖤣 - KAVEH's solo streams;

Whenever he comes to release some tension, he often uses toys but only for certain occasions. He's a sucker for praises so keep that up, he always tells you how much he loves when you do that. Often degrades you, telling you just how perverted you all are sitting there watching him get off, but always ends it with how much he loves how you're watching him.

Favorite collab ➜ Alhaitham

As much as he may fight with the other, he hates to admit (lmao) that he likes collabing with Alhaitham. at first it was just for fun simply because you suggested it but turns out he wants to continue this. Having you between the both of them, trembling from the intense pleasure you're receiving from both men, kaveh loves the fucked out faces you make each time you get close. he even likes watching haitham please you himself.

                         © zhxngii ★ Do not respost or translate.

[gemini-sensei]

Robby Keene x Chubby!Reader x Hawk Moskowitz Headcanons

Threesome with Robby and Hawk ○ NSFW

When they discovered they had an interest in the same girl, they decided that neither of them would make a move to keep things civil between them. However, as they started hanging out with her more and she giggled at their lame jokes, they made it into a little competition to see who could make her laugh the most. Nothing too serious.

One day, Hawk suggested she had shown interest in both of them and said they should just have a threesome. It was a stupid joke he made to Robby and it was never supposed to be anything more than that. But then one day Robby let it slip to her and it became less than a joke.

Sexual tension boiled between the three for a long time before they ended up at a party together and she dragged then to the dance floor. That was where it all began, shaking her hips on Robby while pulling Hawk in close. Their hands ghosted over her curves for some time before she had them all over her.

Before any of them really know it, they're grinning into her, kissing her, kissing her neck, and then stumbling away to get to Hawk's car so they can be truly alone.

While Hawk drove, she and Robby made out in the backseat. He was watching through the rear view mirror in glances, hearing her moan every time Robby squeezed her waist or ass.

They couldn't get into the apartment fast enough, stumbling over each other because none of them knew what they were doing or where they were going. Clothes were coming off before they made it to the bedroom and there was no clear plan of action.

Only when she's dropped onto the middle of the mattress do the guys stop and think it through a little. They want her to have the best experience since they've come to this sudden agreement that this is actually happening. So they ask her how she wants to go forward and proceed to watch her get down on her knees in front of them, palming the bulges in their pants.

She has them in her hands in no time, jerking them off with slow strokes as she's teasing them for both having a crush on her. She asks if they've ever talked about her when she's not around and what kind of things they say. They tell her that they do and that they've talked about how pretty she is, how they just want to squeeze her tits and fuck her, so on.

Once she has her answers, she lets Hawk fuck her tits while she sucks Robby off. Hawk holds her tits so tightly around his dick, his nails dig into her skin and make her moan on Robby's cock. And she's a little overwhelmed so she's giving him a sloppy bj, using one hand to pump what doesn't fit in her mouth while her other hand is playing with her clit.

Robby comes first, shoving her down on his cock and making her gag while he fills her mouth. She swallows what she can, but some dribbles down her chin and lands on her chest. Hawk proceeds to call her dirty names and comes on her tits, making a big mess.

They take a moment to catch their breath before they pile onto the bed. There's no way they're done with her yet.

So many hands are on her at once and she's loving it; hands groping her tits, groping her belly, squeezing her hips, fingers in her pussy, on her thighs. They're everywhere and they're insatiable.

Once she's nice and dripping wet, Robby lays down and pulls her over to him, holding her hips as she hovers over his cock. When she's ready, she sinks down onto him and he guides her until she'd taken all of him. He massages her hips while she grinds on him and then he pulls her down for a heavy kiss where they're moaning into each other's mouths.

He lifts her up off of him some and spreads her open, teasing her already stuffed pussy. Then she hears, "ready for more?" and feels Hawk's tip at her entrance.

They give her a moment to consider what they're suggesting, let's it sink in before they even think about continuing. Only when she nods and gives the verbal okay does Hawk push into her tight whole beside Robby.

It's a snug fit and they stretch her out beyond what she thought was possible. They're very gentle with her, letting her adjust to the fullness before they move. She squirms a lot between them, moaning and whining loudly.

Again, only when she says she's okay to continue do they start moving, one pulling out while the other thrusts into her. Their thrusts are short and quick, but pleasure fulfilling and intense. All she can do is hold onto Robby's arms as they fuck her into oblivion. It's not long before her legs are shaking and she's a quivering mess sandwiched between their firm chests.

She comes and squeezes them, but they keep going. Her mind goes blank for a moment and they talk over her about how tight she is and how she's taking them so well. She's hardly hearing them though. She's a moaning mess.

Hawk's holding her hips and driving into her while Robby is squeezing her thighs and fucking up into her. They're watching her eyes roll up as she gets overstimulated and pushed toward another earth shattering orgasm, and they love it.

When he gets close, Hawk turns her chin toward him and he kisses her from over her shoulder, shoving his tongue in her mouth. Robby can only watch as he's getting close, too. Feeling her tight walls around him and Robby's cock throb pushes Hawk over the edge and he comes, having to pull out of the intense make out to groan.

The mixed saliva between her and Hawk coats her lips and falls from her mouth onto Robby's chest as she comes, whining loudly. The whole affair makes Robby's eyes roll up as he comes, at which point everything starts to slow down.

Once they're spent, Hawk and Robby ease themselves out of their lover and lay her down on the bed gently. They're tender with her, aware that they've probably pulled one too many orgasms out of her for one night. They split up to handle all fronts of aftercare.

Robby goes to get wet rags and a fresh pair of clothes for her to slip on. All he has is his own clothes and hot pj pants, so he brings her a pair of fresh boxer briefs and a tee shirt.

When he comes back, he finds Hawk feeding her snacks and water, doing most of the work for her. He grabbed whatever he could find, which so happened to be the grapes from the fridge, and is pushing them between her lips sweetly as she lays against his chest. Robby just walks over and gets to work on cleaning her up and throws Hawk a rag so he can clean himself.

As they're doing all this, they notice the indentations on her skin from their nails digging into her, the hickeys they don't even remember putting on her, the bruises slowly forming on her hips. She's a mess from head to toe with slick and cum coating her inner thighs and sweat all over. They quickly evaluate that the best course of action after wiping her down would be a nice warm bath.

By all means the tub is not big enough for all three of them, so Hawk sits in the water with her and washes her tenderly as she lays against his chest. His lean body allows them to have enough for such movements. Robby's sitting outside the tub getting them whatever they need, be it the body wash or more bubbles.

Robby steps away to strip and redress the bed with fresh sheets. He's done just in time to help Hawk get their lover out and dried off. She's leaning on them with trembling legs and sore hips, smiling at them tiredly because they're being so sweet to her.

They bring her back to bed, help her get dressed, and lay her down. They start arguing over who's gonna sleep on the couch. They squabble back and forth in nothing but their underwear until she whines and tells them both to "get in the bed already!" They stop arguing and do as told, more than happy to sandwich her between them again.

Needless to say, that was not the last time the three of them shared a night together.

[lizhly-writes]

laying facedown on the couch. au where kim dokja's dad realize he's being a terrible human being and 1) gets sober 2) actually makes an attempt at parenting.

that's too early of a change. kim dokja grows up with two present parents and a far more emotionally healthy childhood than his canon self. imagine that! a childhood where neither of your parents were murderers; a childhood where you were never called a son of a murderer; a childhood with no murders involved at all, not even your own.

there's no reason to find any ways to survive a ruined world if your world was never ruined, you see?

at this point... that's a completely different character, isn't it?

kim dokja was his mother's child, and in his childhood, he learned from her example.

here, this is how you read a book. here, this is how you show love. see, it's fine, sweetheart. It doesn't matter what happens to me as long as the people i love are fine. i know it hurts, but that's love. this is the only way i know how to love at all.

it's true that i haven't read this story in a while. i've forgotten some things by now. still, i think he learned the art of self-sacrifice from her.

it's that tragic backstory he's got. there are some characters whose every action bears the shape of their past. that's kim dokja. what is he without tragedy?

his father never dies. his mother never leaves him alone. this is a different sort of love than he should have learned. he grows up decently liked and decently treated. an average korean man, by all standards. it never, ever occurs to him that he should protect people he loves by throwing himself headfirst into the fire.

picture this: two identical men turn twenty-eight. the first man has at least two messages from his parents congratulating him and perhaps mentioning going out for a birthday dinner, and possibly some friends he made in high school. the second man doesn't have any messages from a real person at all, because no one has fucking bothered to remember his birthday except for those automated "get a free <item> on your birthday!" promotion deals.

come on. there might be some nuance there, but it's not hard to decide who's living the happier life.

knowing this, you have to wonder: why?

in some alternate timeline, kim dokja has a much more well-adjusted life. why is that? why was it that this kim dokja's father decided to sober up, for once? what changed?

it's hard to say whether that timeline is better than what actually occurred. without his mother's example guiding him, without the lessons beaten into him as a teenager, would kim dokja have reached the end to the story he'd wanted? would it still be worth it after everything was over?

still, you have to wonder: why was it that timeline and not this one? "why was it you and not me?"

you can come up with a thousand reasons, driving yourself mad trying to figure out why. did your father love you more there? were you a better child in that world? somehow, were you more worthy of happiness?

...that's enough.

kim dokja lives a happy, normal life. you don't need to see anymore. this isn't a timeline you need to watch. doing so makes you... unhappy isn't the word.

whatever. it doesn't matter. let those windows flicker off and away, glimpsing into some other possible past and future -- this is only one worldline out of many. it's not even one you need to watch. it's unimportant. it's not the story that you loved - love -- so much.

go on. forget about it. you've forgotten so much already. one more story doesn't make a difference.

that kim dokja could never be you.

[phonkscribes]

Heyo- the power went out at my place after a storm. it got me thinking- what would the dmc boys do during a power outage with their s/o? Thank you (:

This is such a sweet and funny idea, thank you for sending the request and I'm sorry that I'm only just NOW getting to it. I'm going to include Credo because I love him.

Black Clouds Provoke Isolation.

The DMC boys during a power outage with their S/O.

Dante

He is accustomed to not having the power work at the Devil May Cry, but he understands that it's probably not something his S/O would be all that acquainted with. First he'll look up and curse quietly to himself, clicking his tongue and turning his head away as he sits in the darkness. As soon as his S/O comes in and starts to worry about it, he's there to calm them down and tell them that it's not a big deal and that this sort of thing happens all the time. Much to their dismay, Dante... power is important, without power the fridge can't keep the pizza and beers cold. His motivation arises at the risk of these important assets being lost.

If his S/O is afraid of the dark or has an issue with it, he'll drape himself over them like a blanket.

"Alright lets get you to the couch", and then he guides(drags) them to the couch to hunker down until the power comes back on.

Dante would poke fun of them for that, if it weren't for his own apprehension to wandering around in the dark. He gets it, since a lot of bad things tend to happen to him in the dark. That's probably what's going on in the mind of his S/O so the least he can do is be there and comforting for them where he didn't have anyone to comfort himself during those times.

"Hey... it'll be okay, we've been through worse before haven't we?", he'll say in a melancholic sort of way.

When the lights do eventually come back on, he has this big smile on his face and looks down to his S/O. He'd chuckle and give them a quick nudge.

"It came back on! See? What'd I tell you?", and after making sure that his partner's alright, he's going off to check if the pizza and beers are still good. A little celebratory snack wouldn't hurt, and he's thinking that a bit of pizza and a cold drink might cheer them up.

Vergil

Like his brother, he doesn't quite care for the dark when the power goes out, but that's because he's grown used to a lack of light in his life. The darkness is something he's come to embrace, something he can move freely through and about without concern. Of course, this changes somewhat with his S/O by his side. He moves to find them first throughout the power outage, making sure that they're alright. However, he's a bit lost as to what to do in this situation since it's never happened to him enough times before where he's become familiar with what course of action to take. He's spent more time in Hell than in the human world, and will rely on his S/O to take charge, which is something he dislikes.

Vergil would ask them if there's anything that he can do to help, like light some candles or check on the appliances or anything like that. He'd also grow a bit frustrated with them when they don't turn on when he tries to use them or if there isn't anything else he can do to try and help. The Darkslayer tries not to pout and fold his arms in the corner as everything else essentially gets handled for him or by someone else. However, he isn't totally useless here. If there is something he can do, it is also to provide comfort for his S/O in the case that they're not as fond of the dark as he is.

If this gets in the way of them trying to take action, he'll guide them through the house and ask them what they need. Once everything is squared away, his focus is directed onto his partner. What do they need right now? What can he provide for them? Comforting others may not be his strong suit, but he will everything he can for their sake. If this is just holding onto them and pressing their head into his shoulder, he will do it. He won't admit it, but he's glad that their able to vulnerable with him, allowing him to be the rock that they can lean on in their time of need. Besides, he quite enjoys these small moments of reprieve and being close to his S/O.

V

The first one to start is Griffon, commenting about how the lights have gone off and how it's suddenly gotten a bit colder. V acknowledges this from his familiar and starts to get up from his spot on the couch to go and locate his S/O to inform them of the problem if they weren't previously aware already. If they're already getting to it, he's sitting back and watching them, admiring the way that they're handling the situation. He'll leave them after a moment to go and find if he can do something to assist them, such as bringing them a flashlight or even a few candles to light around the house so that things are easier to see. He's not all too bothered by a lack of power, tolerant at best, but he does get cold after idling for a while.

When all that can be done is done, he's curled up on the couch with a spot made available for his partner. V waits for them to come and join him, as he'd like for them to share their warmth with him. Sitting together, he'll start to read from his book of poems as Shadow drapes herself across the two of them. It is a perfect way to relax during an event that they don't have much control over, especially if he notices that his S/O is a bit uncomfortable with the lack of power. V would be too, if it weren't for having his partner at his side.

The comfort of not being alone through this gives him the strength he needs to get through it, and he hopes that he can shed that same strength to his S/O. Griffon complains about the mushy romantic spiel that V sings, flocking off to go and check if the power's back on. While the mouthy bird is out of the picture, he returns his attention to being assuring that all will be okay, as it is not the end... yet. Of course, it's within his nature to be a little teasing to them, and he enjoys watching the way they react to his words. When the power does return, he won't be releasing them from his grasp any time soon. V quite likes snuggling with his S/O and he'd like to be with them for a little longer before they eventually do get up to leave.

Nero

He's a little irritated when the power goes out, and ends up cursing the storm for the lack of lights in the house. Nero looks to his S/O and asks if they're okay before he even starts to do anything else, making sure they're all good first and then going to start the backup generator. At the least, he's got a backup plan, thanks to Nico for providing him with a spare(at a 'good' price.)

"Come on you bastard", he's mouthing off to the generator as he yanks the cord to bring it to life.

Nero returns to his partner as soon as that's been squared away, and takes their hand in his to go and grab the flashlights and other lights and what not. He looks around to see if there's anything that he might've forgotten about or if there's anything that his S/O hasn't done. He likes to be on top of things, even having a little plan that Kyrie made to go over until the power comes back on. It isn't the end of the world, but he hates sitting still for too long, even if all that's left to do is to wait. He'd have called Kyrie too by then, asking if the boys are doing okay while he's here with his S/O.

If his S/O happens to be anxious without the power, Nero probably won't be of much help. He's a better listener than he is the guy to go to for advice, awkwardly standing around while Kyrie would cry about something that happened to her or that she was going through. He's gotten better over the years though. He'll take his partner to the couch and make sure they're nice and cozy, offering them an earbud to take and listen to some music while he sits with them, waiting for the storm to pass and eventually for the power to return. He's attentive, and tries, and that's all that anyone can ever really ask for.

When the power does come back, he's cracking a smile, and even hits them with something witty and sarcastic.

"Was that so bad? You did just fine"

And they did! And he presses a little kiss to their forehead.

Credo

He had expected such to happen when he caught the forecast on the news just a few days prior. He suspected that something like the power going out would happen, and so he's pleasantly pleased with himself when he managed to be correct in his assessment.

"Not to worry, I've got this", Credo assures his S/O as he moves with a calmness to gather the things that he has prepared in case such an emergency were to arise. There are bottled waters, flashlights, and the like.

One could even say that Credo's a little too prepared. He makes his calls to Kyrie and Nero, making sure that they're alright and have everything just as he had instructed Kyrie. While with his S/O, he's going over what the plan is and etc. The one-winged devil is a little impatient with things, pacing around the house as he waits for the power to return, and checks in with his partner to make sure that they're okay too. It might take their own assurance that things are okay to calm him down from his restlessness.

Credo isn't usually one to have his feathers ruffled, but there are times where even he loses his cool, like when the Order used his sister to further their own goals. It was absolutely unacceptable, and he'd hope that her, Nero, and the boys were doing just as fine as him and his S/O were. If his S/O were to become anxious during the predicament at any point, he'd stop his own fretting for a moment to address theirs. He'd apologize if he had any part to take in causing it, and promptly pull them into a hug, after asking if it were okay to hug them. His formalities could be found endearing, even after all this time, and they do end up calming his partner down. The distraction is more than appreciated as he tries to figure out what to talk about.

Although one may find that he's not so good with small talk, and curses himself for not being better at it for their sake.

Sparda

The dark knight doesn't see a power outage as a problem, even finding it a bit trivial that the lights went out all because of a silly little storm? He alerts you rather loudly that there isn't any power.

"Dear!! The lights have gone out! Is everything alright?"

Funny how he could create the contraptions necessary to power the Temen-Ni-Gru, but simple electricity puzzles him. Ah, oh well. He could easily provide a bit of light with a bit of magic. He was quite good at that, and he does well to emulate a bit of light for him and his S/O to walk around the house if he wasn't too busy with reading or doing anything else the moment the power went out. His main priority is his partner and after seeking them out, he's making sure that they're alright and taken care of. Upon finding them, he'll snake his arms around their trunk before pulling them close to himself.

"That didn't scare you did it?", he'd ask as he smirks into the back of their head, pressing a kiss to their hair as he takes a gander at the state of their abode.

He's off to check on other things if his beloved is fine and dandy. With a bit of his devil's magic he'd even start on preparing them some tea to enjoy until the power comes back on. Sparda does enjoy using his talents every now and then, showing off his power in these small displays to charm his S/O further even though he's already secured them. It's something that he can't help. He does get a bit more serious if his partner happens to be a bit disturbed by the lack of power. It's almost like a 180, where his lightheartedness is replaced by being more levelheaded and attuned to every little thing from his partner. The pupils of his eyes narrow as he kneels before them, surrendering himself to them as he takes their hands into his own.

"Darling, if there is anything that I can do, you just need to say the word", he says in a sultry tone. He'll bring their hands to his lips as he thumbs over the back of them.

[ficsinhistory]

Spider sense and bonds - A meta about the bond of Miles and Gwen.

Hello, hello, tumblr fellas! The final scene where Gwen senses Miles in danger even in another universe has been rent free in my head for the past month, so I've tried to think of how that works.

(If you want to comment on something here, please do! I love hearing what others have to say!)

Let's go! Let's start with what we know. Spider Sense is in the movies:

Just like in the comics, I'm assuming that Spider Sense exists thanks to the Web of Life and Destiny.

(Beatiful, isn't it?)

Being a clairvoyant power of certain level, it works with what can happen and the most relevant will be warned to the spider. In we have -

a. A danger sensor, be it yours or a loved one of the spider in question. Like Miles and Jeff in the spot fight at the beginning of the movie.

Or Pav and Gayatri in the bridge scene.

b. A sort of sensor for other spiders. In the first movie, that's how Miles and all the other spiders were able to connect and recognize each other.

However, this does not happen so often in ATSV, with just Margo and Miles at Society HQ

(Remember this information, it is important.)

Which brings me to my theory.

Spider sense works as a connection and communication between the Web of Life and Destiny with the spider, which studies all the possibilities that can happen and warns and guides the spider to the event.

Most often with imminent danger.

In the case of Miles and Gwen, like bonds of compatibility, guiding them since they met and only deepening over time.

Gwen felt Miles even in completely different universes because they are the multiversal soul mates most appropriate to each other among the possibilities of the Web of Life and Destiny.

And don't get me wrong, they don't have that connection because they're a couple written in stone by some higher force. Because the Web, the Spider Sense, doesn't work with anything written in stone (including that's where Miguel made a mistake).

If they had never met, they could fall in love and live happily with other people. But they are each other's ideal people. The best compatibility of each other. And that it would only be enough: for them to coexist, to have the possibility of seeing each other, and boom! This connection so strong that it could exist was put to roll.

That's why Gwen was taken to Visions even before Miles was stung. That's why she feels Miles universes away. Of the probabilities in entire realities, they are the ones that work the best. The multiverse judged it that way and guided them and guided them, because they looked alike and because they worked, not because they were destined to do so.

(After all, the whole theme of the movies is about fate is bs and it's more about the odds and your actions on things, so...)

And you must be wondering: why Miles then doesn't feel Gwen the same way? And got that instant hookup vibe with Margo instead?

Here comes the fun part.

Our Gwen from Earth-65 is the best match for Miles Morales, the boy from Earth-1610. And Margo with Spider-Man from Earth-42. Miles from Earth-42. And as Miles was bitten by the spider from Earth-42, Margo and Miles felt that residual connection. (And so I call Prowlerbyte in Beyond)

Remember I said it's not Destiny? Our Gwen and Miles work, but not all versions of them will work. Some are, some aren't (yes, Earth-8 can still be a thing, no worries.)

And that's their fun!

They fall in love, love each other, because they are the best for each other. Because they, just like in real life, found each other and clicked.

They are soulmates because they love each other, and they don't love each other because they are soulmates.

[seneitut]

“Love”

PT (1) PT (2) 

[Gekko/Reader] [Cypher/Reader]

Words: 2.8K

Warnings: Mentions of murder, obsessive behaviour, sense of ownership, insane(?), yandere-ish(?)

How do they show their love? [Is it the epitome of extreme, or just dumb fools?]

Cypher: Family.

In his culture, family is the most important aspect in their lives. The ones to trust unconditionally and love infinitely, and those who will reciprocate his feelings throughout their whole lives with no regrets.

To Amir, his grandfather was his world.

An angry old cranky man was he, beating the crap out of intruders who dared disrespect the La Amari family and protecting what little land they still held against Kingdom's agents.

His grandfather had no powers nor weapons for the enemy to fear him—but it was of no need for this battle. La Amari's grandfather was a well-respected person that his own people feared him sometimes; because he gave what no one else could: hope, enough of a little spark to inspire others into being active in the fight against Kingdom and their thirst for power.

That alone was dangerous, and it kept Kingdom's agents on a tight leash to not cause a riot.

“Think about what will make you lose, instead of what will make you win”, is a piece of advice Amir will never forget.

And it was the last thing his grandfather taught him.

It was devastating losing him at such a young age when he had a future to hold onto, people to take and many to guide. But Amir accepted its fate, because no one can defy death and its destiny; continuing living his life by those beliefs and advice and not disregarding everything he’s learnt.

Then he met Nora, he fell deeply in love, and had his first child—every decision made, every move he took on life was calculated and thought before accomplishing it. Amir believed he had everything solved and paved until his very end, but nothing went according to his plan.

He was never able to figure out the plays of death, always one step ahead of him, and once again taking away everything that was important to him in one swift move.

Death wasn’t the culprit to his many misfortunes, though.

Imagine his surprise when he found out the same people who took Nora’s life were the same gang who murdered his grandfather many years ago. And later on, destroyed the rest of the lineage of La Amari.

The whole crimescene reeked from their trademark, unable to hold back and destroying everything on their way. It was a bloody mess, and the images of his family mangled and dead will remain grafted inside his brain for the rest of his life.

Amir believes that’s the moment where everything changed for him.

La Amari disappeared from the earth, he made sure of that, his family name was dead now and scrubbed from life. The only thing that will carry the memory is him, Cypher, in search of vengeance and answers.

But with time, everything changes its course of action and now Cypher is involved in what could be considered some sort of organization to save the world.

Funny how things evolve.

He meets new people, he learns a few things here and there, he gets fond of some kids, genius fellas they are, a techie and a walking bomb—Cypher takes everything in with open arms, but never without the advice resonating throughout his brain like an echo.

Think about what will make you lose.

Like a chant, he repeats the same sentence when meeting new agents or when deployed to missions. Cypher is the first to come up with solutions, the first to come with counterplans and always a step ahead of the enemy.

And then, like a rock thrown into a well, a disturbance is found.

You are a weird one, he thinks when meeting you for the first time, all smiles and sparky soul.

Jumping and talking non-stop, always a little sunshine to the youngsters but annoying to the core for the seniors.

It always seems to go on tangents when speaking with you, and Cypher likes things concise and straight to the point, so it is obvious to him that he doesn't find you amusing in the slightless.

Cypher doesn't care for you at first, treating you with less than affection and little patience when dealing with you. You are nothing in his life, just another agent and someone else he needs to keep his eye on.

And then, you matter, in more ways than he anticipated.

Because the moment the anniversary of his wife and kid's death comes around, Cypher spirals into a pit of depression he hasn't felt since the incident, digging himself into his own tomb inch by inch as punishment  and blaming himself for everything that hurted his loved ones.

And like a star shining in the dark room, beckoning him with the warmth and gentle touch, is when everything went to shit.

Because you, being the smart cookie you are, sympathized with him the moment you saw him break down and closed off to the world in panic.

You are not Nora, you don’t even resemble her in any aspect whatsoever, but his frivolous and conflicted brain twists your actions, your pure intentions, into something that he desperately thinks he needs.

Comfort.

Cypher sees in you an anchor for him and take advantage of, and you are so unaware of his intentions, so innocent and flustered so easily by his words, that you simply follow whatever he needs you to do.

An obedient little fella, a sweet young adult ready to help whoever needs it without regarding their own self. You follow him like a puppy inside the protocol, you shine brighter when he compliments you, you are so thirsty for his attention he never leaves you hanging with anticipation.

Cypher accepts then that you are what he needs now to fill his own wish and hole in his heart until he takes care of the bigger matters.

But to have you, he needs to think clearly; to own you, he needs to make his moves smartly.

Finding information about your background, your life, the people you mingle with and the lover you have is easy. Is like you're leaving this all for him to find on purpose, is like you know he's doing this to get you, and you're helping him.

And damn him! A surprise is what he finds amongst your files! A family member of the gang who destroyed his life, the gang who were hired by Kingdom to erase La Amari's lineage and conquer the little lands of Morocco. You! You were the key to everything to finally finish what his grandfather started many years ago!

Cypher is joyful, ecstatic, and so eager to take everything from them and, as a prize, keep you to himself.

And when he has everything he needs, he begins his game.

Is so easy. Breaking down their walls, breaking their security and their lackeys, is like a child's game when he realizes this is not a challenge.

Like chess, his moves are smart and calculated, and everything crumbles in front of their eyes.

Think about what will make you lose.

He makes the first move, killing the white's pawn.

Your friends are the first to fall. One by one, they die by his hands and his own methodological mind games to gain information regarding you and your family.

They plead for forgiveness, they ask him to leave you alone, but Cypher is quick to silence them forever.

Humming to himself, he moves his bishop to kill the white's knight.

That little partner of yours put up a struggle when he tried to kidnap them. It was not an easy task to have them under control, nor make them give you up to let them live another day.

Cypher was taken aback by their loyalty, surprised but eager that this might turn bloodier than he anticipated. 

Is funny, too, that despite having someone who loves you this deeply, you always look for Cypher. As if this person isn't enough to satisfy you. 

Cornering the white's queen was easy. 

Every obstacle was eliminated. Anything and anyone he considered might cross his path or make the situation difficult for his plans to move forward is no longer a threat to him, nor his objective.

Cypher fixes the pieces to their positions once he's finished, and in turn, clicks on a button of his surveillance set-up. 

The many screens light up with views from the cameras he has around the base and hidden away by simple eyes.

In one of them, he sees you walking down the hallway with quick steps, hurriedly making your way to Cypher's room.

He sees the determination in your expression, the fast pacing of your steps and in less than a minute you are at his door, huffing to catch your breath and eyes wandering around his room.

Your body language says everything he needs to know—from your shuffle in feet and avoidance to look him into his eyes. You are nervous, if not a little shy to confront him about something.

But he is patient, hands resting on his lap and legs crossed, awaiting for your words with eagerness.

“I like you,” you say, approaching him slowly and nervously rubbing your arms. “I like you a lot, Cypher.”

Unaware of his affairs, you inch closer and kneel in front of him, hands holding onto his and looking into his eerie blue eyes.

“Will you take me?” you ask.

Cypher smiles under his mask, a finger under your chin and gently caressing your lower lips with his thumb.

“But of course, my dear. You are mine now.”

He has won.

Gekko: Freedom.

Throughout his life, Mateo has always been considered a friendly person. 

Conversations here and there, making friends down the street, enamouring the grandladies next door who always gush over his cuteness and kindness as a little kid.

He's always been popular amongst the people surrounding him; a star shining brightly amongst others, a leader, a role model. Mateo is everything and all mothers wish for their kids to be when they grow up, for people to have as a friend, and for girls to want in their boyfriends.

But for him, none of it is of importance. Is irrelevant and pointless to praise him non-stop when he believes nothing of what they say.

Mateo only wishes he could be freed from all of this pressure and simply live his life as a normal teenage boy.

Having been born and raised by a single mother has been tough, with the many expectations put onto his shoulders and many accomplishments he felt the need to fulfill, Mateo never had the time to discover himself in this world but to wear the shoes of someone who is predetermined to succeed.

They expected him to be smart; so he would study non-stop, missing hours of sleep and time to be playing outside just to focus on his grades and reach the top results. They expected him to be kinder; to always share his things, to share his food, to share his money until he was broke just to please the rest of the world. 

They expected many things he despised, but Mateo never said no.

It was like a curse he self-inflicted and didn’t know how to get rid of, and as much as he tries to lash out or simply think to rebel and live like he wants, the nagging feeling of guilt eats him alive before he acts.

Giving up and accepting the façade he's created is the easiest path. He will stop struggling, he will come to terms with what he's chosen and just bear with it.

Mateo will have to live chained to this fate.

But then, he met his little crew. 

The one time he decides to do something for himself, he gets wrapped into the biggest catastrophe that has ever been; affecting everything and everyone in the world until there is nothing but himself and his new friends.

The shift they cause is what makes him decide to start being selfish.

They say when you meet death face-on you can never become the person you used to be. In his case, it meant leaving behind the cocoon of someone who pleased everyone in his surroundings and was finally feeling the metaphorical chains break him free.

Mateo breathes deeply when he comes to that realization, and it almost feels like the first time doing it.

And it gets better.

Because through Reyna is how he meets you.

You are stunning, amazing, funny, gorgeous—he’s running out of words to describe you!

Shaking his hand for the first time, he knows it has to be you. The one to complete his puzzle, the one to fill that empty space of his new life.

Mateo falls in love with you right there and then.

He never believed to have strong feelings for anything in life nor desires that he deeply wanted for himself except freedom— but you made him change his perspective as soon as you came into his life.

It was as if a door had been unlocked and all the suppressed emotions bursted without control, clouding his mind and getting overwhelmed with what he was feeling until there were no other thoughts but you.

You were the contender of his affections and desires now, and Mateo, in his sick twisted way of thinking, thought that you will have to belong to him as well.

Just like he claimed his crew to be his, despite them being sentient, just like he claimed back his life, and just like he got the courage to toss away everyone who crossed his path and denied him the opportunity to evolve into someone better—he is now going to claim you as his.

Nevermind that partner you had, nevermind Reyna eyeing him carefully after the exchange of pleasantries, dubious and concerned because of his unstable emotions; his focus was you, and you alone.

Blame it on the world, blame it on Kingdom, fuck, blame it on him for going to this lengths to make sure he had a chance.

Mateo has killed people before, the Valorant protocol trains them to have impeccable aim and be smart about their actions, so it is no wonder he could kill your partner in one clean shot the next day and hide the body for no one to find.

Many secrets bloomed from his action, but no regrets were found on his eerie smile nor empty hazel eyes when Reyna confronted him about it. Mateo had the upper hand, because he knew she wouldn't say a word—because despite being a cold-hearted person and having her judgment intact, she has a soft spot for him, and Mateo plans to abuse that for his goal.

It comes in handy with everything he taught himself when you look for someone to hold onto, crying and sobbing when your partner goes missing. 

Mateo acts empathetic, soothing your cries and assuring you he would never leave your side until you feel better. 

And it takes you a long time to move on. Deciding whether your partner abandoned you or simply decided to disappear from the world, Mateo's words bring a smile to your face every time he tries to soothe you, and your reactions are either flustered and nervous by the time he ends.

Flirting, teasing, and keeping you on your toes with his actions is his way to test the waters.

Mateo is eloquent when it comes to words and his ways of convincing, to make you trust him slowly and not only by baseless talking—is a long process, a tedious one where he needs to make sure everything is going according to what he needs.

He compliments everything you do, from what you wear to what you do.

He hovers over your mouth inches apart, breaths intermingling and lips barely touching until he suddenly pulls away, flustered and nervous, and makes excuses to promptly escape—and then you are left alone with a hammering heart and warm face, wondering whether Gekko has feelings for you or is he just simply shy.

Is like he’s toying with you, with purpose, with the need to see if you are going to break under the pressure he’s making you go through, or will he break first in desperation to have you for himself.

Because there is so much a man like him can tolerate.

But it doesn’t take long to know the answer.

When you breach the first barrier, and the second on the way, kissing him with fervor and passion, he knows he’s won.

Mateo reciprocates with the same sentiment, drowning in your lips and taste, with his heart full and desires fulfilled. He holds you tightly and without restrain, swinging you around with laughter and giddiness, deepening the kiss until you both are breathless in each other's arms.

When you confess you are in love with him, Gekko smiles, happy, and dips to claim your lips again.

This is what it means to have freedom.