#I wanted to turn this one into a print because I thought the idea was so cute

[aelfgiure]

From the moment I was coherent, I knew my family was different. Off, somehow, not normal. It was something in the way my parents looked at me when they thought I was distracted, the way they treated me like I didn't belong. Like I was an inconvenience.

My brother and sisters? So, so spoiled. Between mom's modeling and dad's business stuff, there was MONEY, and my siblings had it lavished on them. Toys, designer clothes - whatever they wanted. They were hugged, cosseted, taken on trips, given actual attention! They had a fabulous childhood.

Not like mine.

There was this undercurrent of resentment towards me that I never understood. I never had birthday parties, the folks were always "too busy", tossing some money my way so I could get a present. It never mattered what my grades were, I handed over the report cards to get signed and that was it. Unlike my siblings - they got pizza parties for not failing classes! but my damn near perfect marks were shrugged off. It was a lonely, confusing life, especially for a little kid.

My solace was in books. (Yep, I nerd.) If it was in print, I'd read it. That empty feeling inside me was soothed when I filled myself with words, stories, information, music. Yes, I taught myself how to read music, too, and how to build and play instruments. The early ones were crap, but I got better at it.

Anyways. I read everything, which led me to the 'occult/spiritual' section of the library and book stores. Right next to the fairy tales and legends, of course, so I read those too because why the heck not? It was ... it was educational. Upsetting. I wandered around the house and saw all the cold iron and silver on every window, every door. The weird herbs growing at every entrance. Keep in mind that I was TEN. Ten years old, trying to understand what was going on with my life, and suddenly figuring out that my parents were keeping something out. Of course, the next thing I did was check my clothes and, surprise surprise, everything had odd things sewn into the hems. Not only was something kept out, I was warded against being Taken.

So, I did what any angsty pre-adolescent would do, and plotted. Come hell or high water, I was going to find out what was going on. For the first time in my life, being ignored worked in my favor. Using the books and stories as a guide, I bought things, ingredients and materials, and worked quietly. Waiting for the night of the full moon.

I was as thorough as only an angry child could be. Opened doors, front and back. Walked around the house widdershins, sweeping away the protective ring of salt and runes. Did I mention I was naked? Yeah, I took a bath and washed myself with a bar of Ivory soap, getting rid of even the smallest trace of binding or charm. Since I didn't trust any of my clothes, or any in the house really, it made sense for me to go naked. To be sure.

The results were impressive. Also terrifying. Two powerful, ancient beings stormed into the house and dragged my parents out of bed, starting a three-way screaming match about contracts, oaths, stuff I didn't understand.

That was when I learned why I was conceived. It hurt, honestly. Learning that I was just a bargaining chip, chattel to be bartered or sold, broke my heart. They kept me warded to avoid issues, they said. They didn't know which being had the first claim on me, and neither one wanted to give up the wealth and beauty they bought with my life.

I was ten years old, and heartbroken, and oh so angry, and I interrupted with a suggestion. The witch and the faerie exchanged a look, before turning to my parents with the same smile on both their faces, one with extra teeth and mischief.

To this day, I have no idea what happened to them. I've lived with my dads for ten years now. Not full time anymore, university is a beeyotch and I live off campus, but every break, I go home.

My family is still kinda off, and different, but my dads love me. They're proud of me, they encourage me to be awesome, and we celebrate birthdays and holidays together. They keep saying that they have to make up for lost time, but knowing they were trying to find me, knowing they never gave up hope - well. They wanted a child to love, and i needed parents to love me. It all worked out in the end.

Your mother sold her firstborn to a witch in exchange for beauty and your father sold his firstborn to a fairy for wealth. Today you are born.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hellooo 👋🏻

James being into rough sex, like bruises, bites, making sure you’re limping next day? Reader actually doesn’t like it, but takes it as she afraid he’ll break up with her? He doesn’t notice that she’s is pain and is enjoying seeing marks all over her body. Until one night he wakes up and finds her in the bathroom crying and trying to clean herself after the rough session? And he’s upset that she didn’t tell him she wanted him to be gentle? He takes her back to bedroom and they do it slow and passionately?

I’m thinking ajaf James or black album?

Warnings: smut, implied rough sex, bruises, hickeys, fingering (f receiving), angst, crying, aggressively cleaning skin, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You scrubbed and scrubbed but it didn’t stop the deep purple from spilling under your skin. Your neck, arms and legs all littered in bruises, muscles sore and voice hoarse, tears rolling down your cheeks in streams.

You bit your lip to keep your sobs down, not wanting to wake James who was fast asleep just down the hall. He’d gotten back from tour the day before and after sleeping the day away he was ready to release all his pent up emotions on you.

He loved seeing you all marked up, hickeys and hand prints, all from him. He loved owning you, claiming you as his for everyone to see, it was his favourite part and you were so convinced that if he ever knew how much you hated it, he’d hate you.

You couldn’t lose him, you loved him, the pain was worth it… right?

James woke up to find himself naked in bed, alone. It wasn’t normal for him to be alone at home, you were always there, you didn’t work because you didn’t need to, he didn’t want you to. He figured you’d just gone to the bathroom and would be back soon.

Then he heard a clattering sound and thought something happened, so he went to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, leaning closer to the door. He heard you sniffles and water running before you shut it off.

“Yes, yeah, I-I’m fine.” You said, struggling to keep your voice flat but managing, just barely. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be right out.” You kept working with the cloth, trying clean up the mess James couldn’t have been bothered with. At some point it became less about the sweat and cum, you were rubbing your skin raw trying to get the marks off, the scratches and bruises.

James waited a moment longer, listening to the faint sounds he could hear. He sighed with a nod. “Just be quick.” He said, turning and walking away.

He sat down in bed and waited for you to come back. He waited a whole minute, if even, before going back to the bathroom and knocking again. “Let me in.”

You jumped at his knock, not expecting him a second time. “I’m sorry, Jamie, I-I promise I’ll be out in a minute.” The words came out rushed and panicked, you didn’t know what he wanted or why he was here but it scared you all the same.

“No, I wasn’t asking, sweetheart, let me in.” He demanded, trying the doorknob but it was locked. You hesitated, then you questioned why you were hesitating. All he wanted was to get in the bathroom because he heard you crying, why were you scared.

You didn’t know what he was going to do to you, you didn’t know how he was going to react to you crying over the marks he put there but you assumed it would end tragically.

You unlocked the door and it swung open, making you step back, you gripped the counter for stability. James caught the notion, eyeing you closely.

You stood naked in front of him, covered in marks he put on you. Your skin was red and irritated but it wasn’t from him, the wet cloth in the filled sink gave him a decent idea of what you were doing.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked, taking a step closer to you. You instinctively took a step back before mentally slapping yourself and moving closer to him again. He sighed and took a step back himself, not wanting to make you more uncomfortable, he could practically see your skin crawling. “I’m not mad, darling, I love you and I’m worried, what happened?” His voice was firm but gentle, full of love.

You crumbled, unable to hold it in anymore. You fell to your knees crying, James quickly got to his knees in front of you, pulling you closer until you were sitting in his lap. He gradually tightened his hold on you, planting kisses wherever he could reach in hopes of calming you down but he didn’t want to force you to stay in his lap.

You were scared of him, terrified even, and that broke a piece of him. He never wanted you to be scared of him, he wanted to be your safe place, who you came for when you cried. Here you were, hiding from him as you broke down.

You tried to speak but it came out mumbled and slurred, voice all choked up and you coughed between sobs so he just held you and kissed you all over, letting you catch your breath before you tried speaking again.

“It hurts!” You cried, the first thing he heard clearly.

“I get that but what hurts?” He asked, keeping his voice soft and low.

“You hurt!” You yelled, looking up at him with glassy eyes and a quivering lip. He stared back at you, eyes wide and flickering over your heartbroken features.

“I hurt..?” He repeated, words coming out barely above a whisper. “Sweetheart, no…” He tightened his hold on you, pulling your head to his chest. “Why wouldn’t you say something..?”

“I-I didn’t want- didn’t want you to leave-leave me…” You managed to get out.

James shook his head. He brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and tilting your head up to look at him. “I’m not leaving you anytime soon, love, if I do or say something you don’t like you have to tell me, you don’t deserve to be treated like that if you don’t like it.” He kissed you and let you rest against him once more.

He held you in his lap on the bathroom floor until you stopped crying when he carried you to bed and curled up with you. He lay behind you, an arm around your torso with his hand resting on your stomach, his other arm under your head, free hand playing with your hair.

James placed soft kisses to the back of your neck and leading down to your shoulder, the hand on your stomach moving down to rub your clit slow circles. You bit your lip to quiet yourself but it felt good and a few slipped.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” He said, kissing your jaw. “Just relax, don’t try to stop your body, alright? Just feel good.” Your lip slipped from between your teeth and more moans left your.

“Want more, Jamie.” You said in a whisper, not sure if you wanted him to hear it or not.

“More?” He repeated, pulling his hand away for a moment. “Just tell me if it’s too much.” He said, pushing into you with a low groan.

He moved his hips slow, letting you feel and savour ever moment of it. His hand went back to your clit, the pace was nothing he’d done with you before, it was always fast and hard, words harsh and degrading. This was different.

“You’re doing so good for me, darling, just keep making those noises, let me hear you.” He muttered, leaving kisses on you to leave kisses on you, not to mark you. Your skin was littered with James but they would go away, James loved you too much to put them back. As long as you loved him and knew he loved you nothing else mattered.

“Jamie-! Jamie, feels-feels good.” You whined, clutching the sheets, the hand playing with your hair went to grab yours, letting you squeeze him.

James didn’t have anything to say, leaving more kisses in his wake, feeling his own high coming up on him. Your eyes fluttered and rolled back, body melting into James’s as he came, filling you to the brim with his seed.

He moved, going to pull out but you stopped him. “Stay, Jamie.” You said, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Just stay.”

He smiled back at you and nodded, pulling you tighter to him. “I’ll clean up in the morning, then, alright?” You nodded, letting sleep take over you.

[weaponizedmoth]

I saw you were doing requests!

Can I see Hank reading Batman comics Thank you! :D

there ya go!

[chobunz]

── only if you say yes. ( psh ) 🪽

๑ When trying out a dumb trend online with your best friend turns into something neither of you were very much experienced in at all..

pair: best friend!sunghoon ㅊ f!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, fluff, lots and lots of kissinggg, you’re both virgins lol, kinda subby!hoon, dry humping, hoon cries a little bit, surprise ending ?? | words: 2.1k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“uhh.. y’sure best friends are allowed to be doing this ?” sunghoon murmurs against the heat of your skin as you got dangerously closer. you boldly straddled his lap, telling him that you want to plant kisses all over his face with a fresh coat of pink gloss adorning your lips.

the idea randomly sprung into your head as you were watching some tiktok video about ‘covering my boyfriend’s face with lipstick kiss marks to see his reaction’ but… you didn’t have a boyfriend. you never really liked any of the gross, annoying boys at your school nor had a crush on anyone before. well, besides for one boy— the only boy you ever really cared about was sunghoon, who’s been your best friend since childhood and shared almost everything with.

the two of you were just casually sitting on your bed like usual, both your parents were gone as they had some important business meeting to attend to, leaving you both bored out of your minds with absolutely nothing better to do. you’ve always thought about kissing your best friend and how he’d react if you did it, would he be surprised ? upset ? angry ? turned on ? who the hell knows, but one thing you knew for certain was that you wanted to share your first kiss with him and only him.

“i don’t see why not, i mean.. unless you don’t want me to ?” your round eyes sparkle up at sunghoon as you ask him for permission.

the boy was far too flustered to speak, blushing softly as he gets shy and looks away, his eyes scanning the perimeters of your room. he looks at the soft pastel pink walls, your shelf full of books, random stationary, and the stuffed plushies that you’ve collected over the years. sunghoon knows practically everything about you, he knows that you’ve always liked cute things and how you’re so obsessed with all things pink and dress on the hyperfeminine side. he loves how innocent you are and how you still believe in the tooth fairy or the fact you have to sleep with a star projecting nightlight because you’re too afraid of the dark. he quite literally thought you were the most adorable, precious little thing to have ever graced this earth.

“uh, of course i want to..” “just wanted to make sure is all.” he replies awkwardly, the more cool and collected response in his head didn’t go quite as planned…

with that, your pink tinted glossy lips scattered kisses onto his rosy cheeks. the feeling of your breasts brushing up against sunghoon’s chest making him whimper, the only thing covering your nipples being the thin camisole you wore. your lips start to mark him on every spot of his face, kissing his little moles one by one. you especially loved the mole near the bridge of his nose and the one under his eye, everything just screamed perfection about him from head to toe.

you start to giggle as you find it funny that your lip marks are printed all over your best friend’s face. the way your warmth from your body heat combined with your cinnamon scented perfume only becomes stronger whenever your lips are near his face, it makes his mind all frizzy. he couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t even believe this was happening. he truly thought he was dreaming; but it was too lifelike to feel like a dream.

“you look s’cute !” you smothered a dozen more kisses along his jaw through your words.

you smiled like a giddy teenager as you pull away from sunghoon’s face, bringing your hand mirror to his face so he can see all the kiss marks you drowned him in. for some reason it felt natural to him, he was happy to have your marks on his face; he’d walk around in public with your kiss marks on his face and wouldn’t have a care in the world of what others would say/think. there’s no one else he’d rather be doing this right now with than you.

“what’s on your mind hoonie ?” you ask all innocently, wondering why he’s been so quiet this whole time.

sunghoon doesn’t say much of anything in return, instead he grabs your face and crashes his lips against yours. you didn’t know the first thing about kissing, neither did he to be honest, but he’s watched enough romance movies and k-dramas to get the gist. your eyes widen at the fact that your own best friend you’ve known since birth has his lips on yours right now. they felt soft, so plush, and molded so perfectly with yours. you never wanted this to end, you simply could kiss his pretty lips all damn day. you were caught off guard when he abruptly pulls away, he opens his eyes and sees how in shock you are. he panics at the idea of you getting mad at him but he doesn’t say a word. he’s not exactly sure what to say..

“o-oh sorry.. i just really wanted to know what it’d feel like to have your lips on mine. you’re making me.. feel all these strange things inside..” god, he feels like such an idiot. he feels as though he’s blew any chance of redemption but is quickly surprised when you pull the collar of his t-shirt to reel him back in for another passionate kiss. he doesn’t even hesitate to melt into you, you were like a drug to him, more addictive than any substance could ever be.

๑ ๑ ๑

it wasn’t long until you found yourself back on sunghoon’s lap, making out with him for what seems like hours. you didn’t know what the hell you were doing but you were doing what your natural instincts were telling you and so was he. you felt an odd sensation throughout your body, something you’ve never felt before.

all you knew was that you needed some more friction, so you rocked your hips against sunghoon’s clothed erect, feeling him grow under your thin little shorts. it felt so weird but so good at the same time, the way he ruts his hips to be in sync with your movement, how it makes your whole body tingle, your pussy was throbbing, aching for more. both you and sunghoon made the most needy, whimpering sounds against each other’s lips.

“can we do it more ? can.. can you rub yourself on me again ?. it feels so so good y/n, i can’t take it ! i need it.. need to feel you on me please please please,” sunghoon’s whines were making your heart flutter. he was just so cute ;( he may be a couple years older, taller, and a lot stronger than you, yet he was always so soft and gentle towards you.

“mm.. of course hoonie, just be good for me m’kay?” you wanted him to be a good boy for you, you wanted him to let you take care of him.

he obediently nods at your words before you quickly get off of his lap and signal him to lay down flat on your bed. you shove the millions of sanrio plushies out of the way and make sure sunghoon’s head is comfortably laying on your fluffy body pillow, it was a must to have sunghoon feeling well at all times. it definitely wasn’t in the ‘women are made to take care of men!’ bullshit kind of way but in the way that even though he’s older, taller, and stronger than you he’s still your baby. he’d do anything for you, as you would do the same for him, so that’s why he obeys so easily, he knows you’ll take good care of him.

“you look so beautiful” sunghoon whispers as you begin to slowly take your clothing off, you were left in just your white camisole and your floral panties with a cute pink bow on the front.

“lemme take your shirt off hoonie,” he nods so you take off the oversized black t-shirt, leaving him in just his sweatpants.

you could tell sunghoon wasn’t wearing any underwear especially because you can see the outline of his bulge so well, so one tug of his sweatpants and his cock will be exposed. you eye his beautiful body, how toned and muscular he was… not to mention how defined his abs looked, you’ve seen them before many times, but not like this. your manicured fingers drag across his abs, he attempts to hide his face by turning to the side but you softly grab him, cupping his chin so he could face you once again.

“don’t— i wanna look at you hoon, and you want me to do that thing again, right?” you ask him sweetly as you tilt your head, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“please. i don’ wanna sound rude but stop talking and do it again… i like feeling you so close to me.” a pout forms on his lips, so desperate and horny for you that he was sure he’d nut the second you grind on him again.

it wasn’t long when you crawl on sunghoon’s laying figure. you’re now on top of him, your core pressed against his bulge that was harder than before. you feel your lower area grow excessively wet, it was clenching around nothing. you look down at sunghoon, his eyes giving you the most pleading, innocent look. you smile at him before you start to move against him, the whines slip out of his lips so easily. you see the way he closes his eyes, the way his lips part open as he lets out soft moans for your ears to drown in.

his hands fly to your hips and slightly grips them, something tells you he wants you to move faster. you plant your hands on his chest and move your clothed pussy against his hard faster, your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you moan at the way your clit was being stimulated by the friction. it wasn’t long until you and sunghoon both felt this strange feeling bubbling inside your stomachs, it was like a fire in your lower abdomen.. a good fire.

“hoon.. w-what is going on.. i feel weird— oh my god!” you screech as you felt yourself release warm liquid out of your pussy.

sunghoon saw the way you were slightly shaking on him, how your face twitched, how beautiful you looked when you reached your climax. soon sunghoon felt himself cream in his pants, his eyes teary from the pleasure. he sniffles as you wipe the wetness from his face.. he’s so cute. at first he thought he pissed himself until he realized it was the same liquid that comes out when he thinks about you at night. what did they call it.. cum ?? he searched it up before but he really didn’t understand it much, maybe he’ll ask you to look it up with him tomorrow.

“we should.. do that again more often..” sunghoon says to you, your body collapsed besides his, hugging him from his side. he hugs you back, he feels so close to you.. like you two are one.

your lips found their way back onto his again, subconsciously rubbing up against him again. sunghoon couldn’t help but smile to himself at how much you wanted to feel him, although he was a bit worn out he wouldn’t be opposed to going another round with you on top of him again.

you and sunghoon were enjoying each other’s company, living in the moment as you embraced one another. what you hadn’t come to realize though, were the 4 adults that happened to be both of your parents standing utterly still in shock at the door.. completely dumbfounded.

“sunghoon ? y/n ?? what are you two doing ?!” your eyes widen along with sunghoon’s as you both heard the sudden loudness of your mother’s voice.

“my baby isn’t a baby anymore, oh my gosh !” sunghoon’s mother squeals, she knew that he’s had a crush on you but he never told you. this little kiss you two shared has now basically confirmed that you were also just as much as in love with him as he was with you.

you look at your doorway and see your father, no emotion on his face whatsoever.. he doesn’t seem angry or sad he just seems… unamused ? your mother had her hand over her mouth, sunghoon’s father trying not to burst out laughing and sunghoon’s mom was over the moon that her son is finally experiencing adulthood with a girl.

you’d expect scolding from both of your parents but really they knew this was bound to happen between you two one day, they were childhood best friends themselves, hell, they all used to be friends and now they’re married with children.

guess it was safe to say, you’d be able to give sunghoon kisses all over his face without having to hide it from anyone !

admittedly this isn’t my best work buttt i rlly thought the storyline was cute so i hope some of you enjoyed it nonetheless >-< ♡︎ ♡︎ also here’s a qt little visual of what y/n was doing to hoonie pie in the beginning ehehe <3

[miupow]

★ ── LE SEXE, JE VEUX DIRE !

what happens when you give the hyung line an aphrodisiac 。 。 。?

꒰୨୧ ꒱ pairing。stray kids hyung line x fem!reader genre。 pure smut , pwp warnings。 aphrodisiacs , sex while intoxicated , breeding kink , primal play , vaginal fingering , oral (m. rec) , deepthroat , unprotected sex , creampies , masturbation (m. rec) , phone sex , diy porn , sex while filming

a/n ⸝⸝ requested skz version of my txt drabble! i’m lowkey not a big fan of this… but here it is anyway lol. [ 0. 7k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

𝔅ANGCHAN

chris is completely sure the aphrodisiac candies you purchased wouldn't do a thing, just a silly marketing gimmick printed all over the foil packaging he turned over in his hands. but you had gotten them as a surprise, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings– so he casts aside his doubts and eats his share with a smile, ready to put on his best show of pretending to be affected. he wouldn't even be really acting, since you can get him going no matter what... yet to his complete shock reduced to a mess within minutes, panting and squirming above you, his hips canting up to press the swell of his clothed cock against the curve of your ass. his control slips when you grind back against him, pussy drunk and unable to think of anything other than fuck, claim, breed as he flips you over and mounts you like an animal. he’s definitely having you get more of these.

𝔐INHO

minho’s immediate response to you showing him the chocolates was to scold you for wasting money on worthless placebos. there was no way you believed that they would actually do anything, right? but he eats them with you anyway, because you’re very persuasive when you’re pouting. he’ll tell you they did nothing for him at all, as he’s knuckle deep in your pussy, your hot little mouth swallowing his cock to the hilt. he didn’t feel a thing, as he’s lining up his weeping tip to your entrance. he’s completely unaffected, watching with dark hazy eyes as his thick cum leaks out of your hole. those stupid chocolates had nothing to do with how he fucked you until the sun came up. and you let him believe it, because it gives you an excuse to try it again.

𝓒HANGBIN

changbin always finds some way to derail your plans… you had hidden some aphrodisiac chocolates your had bought in hopes of surprising him with them later, but you were never the best at hiding things— your boyfriend finds them within the first day. mistaking them for regular candy, he eats them without a thought; and hours later he calls you desperately from the studio, hiding in the bathroom with his pants around his knees as he fists his aching cock. the lewd wet sounds echo against the tile and harmonize with his pretty low moans, all filtering directly into the phone’s speaker and making your pussy throb. “i need you so bad,” he whimpers, his hand speeding up, “need your pussy so bad…” detailing in a needy groan every nasty little thing he planned to do to you once he got home, the growl in his voice enough to make your legs shake. you hated to ruin the mood, but you just had to know; “binnie, did you eat those chocolates in the pantry?” “um… maybe?”

𝓗YUNJIN

the candies were his idea, actually— he figured they were a perfect addition to the films he liked to make. you couldn’t even call them sex tapes, with how careful and artistic hyunjin was in filming them… but he loved to film often, and was always coming up with new ways to keep things new and exciting. sharing candies between kisses on camera, hands wandering as you lay tangled together on the hotel bed. the both of you growing hotter and needier as time went on, gentle caresses turning into rough manhandling, tugging at each other’s clothes til you were both bare in eachother’s arms. hyunjin looks straight into the camera with a smirk as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, your face buried in the pillow to muffle your scream when he slides his thick long cock into your wet pussy with one firm thrust. he reaches over to pick the camera up off of it’s tripod, angles it down so it gets a clear view of your asscheeks bouncing against his abs from the force of his thrusts, his big hand pressing down on your arched back as his cock splits your creamy cunt open. neither of you last as long as usual, deeply affected by the aphrodisiac and desperate for release— he makes sure to get the best possible angle of him pulling out and cumming on your ass, pearly white ropes of cum decorating your flushed skin like a painting. you’re his favorite work of art, and he just can’t get enough of showing it off.

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

-

part four

[copperbadge]

Recently I ran across an article about an art center that was doing creative expression classes for people with disabilities. Not that unusual, I've encountered that and trauma-oriented art therapy before, but it was the first time I'd come across the idea since getting diagnosed with ADHD. While the class was aimed more at high-needs disabilities, it occurred to me that I could -- if I wanted -- make non-prose art about being disabled.

Outside of my work in scene design I've never been much of a visual artist because I've never felt I had the combination of "something to say" and "a meaningful way to say it", but I started to question how meaningful and complex I really had to be to just make some statements about having ADHD. I can do it in prose, after all.

So I started thinking about how you would talk, in visual language, about things like time blindness, shame stemming from undiagnosed disability, the shift in behavior that medication can induce. Ways to express my condition to people who don't experience it. I still didn't really know how to build the pieces but whenever I went to an art museum I'd think about how I might do a gallery installation. The centerpiece of my mental gallery was a pair of barcodes, one marked "Neurotypical" and one marked "Neurodivergent".

[ID: An interior view of a small booklet, with pages marked 1 and 2, showing barcodes -- on the left, labeled Neurotypical, and on the right, in slightly weirder configuration, labeled Neurodivergent.]

And then I thought, why not make a zine? Nothing you're thinking of couldn't be put in zine form instead of on a gallery wall.

[ID: The booklet continues to pages 3 and 4; on page 3 is a postage-style label reading AUTISM with up arrows on either side, and on page 4 is a QR code labeled ADHD. The QR code technically should work but it just dumps a block of text I wrote about having ADHD into a browser.]

I grew up with zine culture in the 90s and I always wanted to make one but much like with visual art, I never felt like I had the right kind of thing to say; either I had too much to say or too little, and anyway I wasn't confident that what I wanted to do wouldn't just come off as trite and obvious. But you can make a six-page zine out of a single sheet of paper, so I did: I made Helpful Labels For Strange Brains by idab zines, a division of Extribulum Press. (i--dab is a term for a cuneiform tablet that contains a royal communication.)

[ID: The last two pages feature the same image -- a cereal bowl with a spoon in it, the spoon containing a single Adderall pill. One image, however, is captioned "Wake up. Pour yourself a cup of iced coffee. Fix a bowl of cereal. It's going to be a good day." while the other is covered in a detailed ADHD-style step-by-step process for the same actions, culminating in "It's going to be a day like that."]

I'm pretty pleased with how it came out -- the art all looks intentional and it still has that "taped this together after school" aesthetic I remember fondly from the 90s. And the confines of six pages, each only a few inches square, offers a good structure to keep things clear, simple, and meaningful.

[ID: The cover of the zine, labeled "Helpful Labels For Strange Brains" in a kind of esoteric stampy font.]

Especially nice is that if you wanted to you could just hand out the flat sheet, and let folks fold it into a booklet or not -- there's instructions for folding it on the back of the zine. Additionally I have some sticker backed printer paper so I could print it such that you could literally turn the labels into real labels.

Anyway if you want it, here ya go. You can print it on a single sheet of paper and follow the instructions on the back to fold it. I thought about selling it but I do not have the spoons to do a bunch of printing and folding and shipping.

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

contents: fluff. established relationship. found family. megumi takes up baking and it takes you back to your teenage years when a certain white-haired someone pined for you. 1.4k wc.

Nine year old Megumi has a crush on someone. You were pleasantly surprised when he asked you to take him to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients, and you inquired if there was a special occasion or a school cooking project as you both walked along the aisle and collected the items on his list that he prepared beforehand.

Your heart melts when you learn that he was planning to gift the pretty girl in his class something homemade, and he decided on butter cookies because she mentioned in passing that it was one of her favorite snacks. You think it’s incredibly sweet that Megumi came up with the idea himself, and even more so that he wanted to set aside a weekend to create something completely from scratch with his own two hands when purchasing a square tin would’ve been much easier.

It certainly reminds you of an insufferable yet equally lovable sorcerer that’s way too tall for his own good with too bright blue eyes that make you forget everything around you if you stare into them a little too long. When you both were just two young teenagers pining after each other and he showed up with a white pastry box hidden behind his back on a summer day, with the strawberries in season and nurtured and harvested to perfection. You smile at the pleasant memory before forcing yourself back to reality.

When you are getting ready to pay for the things you and Megumi placed on the conveyor belt, he stops you and pulls out his Digimon wallet (courtesy of Gojo’s taste in presents) and explains he wants to purchase it with his own savings and be able to say that this gift is entirely by him without receiving any help from others.

You almost had to hold back a tear because when did this boy become so sweet? You suppose he always was this sweet and thoughtful, it just took a bit of time and some trust for him to fully warm up to you and Gojo despite the circumstances with his family and almost being sold off like a pawn to the Zenin clan. And now he has a home where him and his sister could feel like they belong and be surrounded with people that he could depend on because at the end of the day Megumi is just a boy much too young to be growing up too fast.

You announce your return home to Gojo and Tsumiki with the soft thud of the grocery bags being placed on the kitchen counter, and Megumi scurries into his bedroom to fetch the printed recipe he tucked away in a drawer. You carefully take out each item from the bags to place on the surface for him to get started, and white tufts of hair come into your peripherals and Gojo greets you with a cheeky grin.

“Angel, you’re back.” His hand falls on your hip and he softly pecks your lips when you turn your head toward him. He does a quick scan of the contents in front of you, and he decides you must be some kind of mind reader or his telepathic messages have finally reached you after several days now. “Aw baby~ Don’t tell me you’re baking something for me? How did you know I was craving—”

“Not me.” You shake your head and cut him off promptly. “Megumi.” And at the mention of his name, the young raven-haired boy enters the kitchen with a loose paper in his grip. You offer him a polite smile before addressing that everything he needs is on the counter and point to where the baking equipment are, and if he has any questions or concerns then you’ll be in the next room with Gojo as you drag your boyfriend by the arm to give Megumi his privacy.

“You see, Satoru, our Megumi here has a crush on someone. And he’s taken it upon himself to bake her cookies!” You say just above a whisper, a proud smile lining your lips and Gojo arches a curious brow. You catch a peek between the threshold that separates the kitchen and sitting area with Gojo looming behind you and find Megumi checking off the ingredients and looking over the instructions. He’s being thorough, that’s a good start.

“Megumi, eh? You know, I’m a little surprised he’s crushing at all. He’s quite the serious kid.”

You huff at him softly. “Well, serious or not, I think everyone is allowed to have crushes. Besides, doesn’t this remind you of something? Like that time you baked me a strawberry shortcake because strawberries were my favorite?” You look back up at him, and in your gaze there was always a sort of sweet and dreamy expression that never fails to make his heart swell three times too big.

“Ah.” Gojo chuckles, and his mind drifts back to the fond memories of his own youth, when he too used to try his hand at baking sweets in the hopes of impressing you. He remembered how long it took and how many attempts he made since he had no prior experience. There was a lot of flour and eggshells, and maybe he did set the oven on fire… but the moment he saw your face light up with your beautiful smile it was worth all the trouble and the mess. “That was the cake that changed it all for us, huh?” His arms move to your waist and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You nod and hum affectionately, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck though with his height he had to bend down slightly. “That’s one way to put it. But as much as I appreciate the sweet gesture, I am so glad you left the baking to me since then.”

“You’re still teasing me about that to this day?” He playfully nips the sensitive spot on your neck causing you to giggle and lightly shove him away. “But hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. A little bird told me that maybe a homemade cake from me would be the thing to win your heart.”

“Well, I hope you know it was more than the cake that won my heart.”

“Yeah, I know it was my good looks and charm, you can’t get enough of me.” Gojo teases, peppering kisses over your shoulders and neck before pulling back just enough so his smirk comes into your view. “Enlighten me then. Since I still don’t have a clue why an Angel like you fell for a great catch such like myself.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jokes, and you mull it over for a long moment to purposely keep him in anticipation. There are so many reasons that made you love Satoru Gojo back then, and every day you find new things to love about him. But for now the two qualities that come to mind should suffice for an answer. “Maybe it’s because I found you funny. And cute sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Cute most times, I think.” Gojo quips, and he gently pinches your cheeks. “And of course, my sense of humor is legendary. Who else can make you laugh like I do, hmm?”

“Alright, I think that’s enough flattery for you in one day. Any more and I’m afraid your enormous ego might burst.” There’s a teasing lilt in your voice, and suddenly the air around you feels sweeter as Gojo brings you closer to him and kisses your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours.

“But you know I love you, right?” He says in a much softer tone. “I might tease you a lot and act like an idiot sometimes, but I do appreciate you still being here with me through it all. Without you, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you. You make me a better person, you know that?” He tenderly cradles the side of your face and gazes lovingly into your eyes before there’s a flash of his dimples and a boyish giggle. “And the fact you think I’m cute is icing on the cake. Pun intended.”

You groan softly but the laughter that came shortly after is one of genuine affection. “I'm gonna go check on Megumi.” Before you turn on your heel, you plant a big smooch on his cheek then you’re gone the next second. He stands there, grinning from ear to ear as he rubs the spot you kissed like he still was (and he still is) the lovesick boy just a few years back.

꒰ note ᰔ the idea where megumi takes after gojo in some ways really squeezes my heart and that’s what inspired this little piece. ꒱

[inkskinned]

nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.

gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.

oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.

but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.

sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.

greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.

okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.

here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.

people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.

you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.

pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.

[peachyscenes]

nine to five | office workers!enhypen x fem!reader

notes: SMUT!! so mdni and proceed with caution/at your own risk! porn with some plot. you 🫵, my dear reader are in fact the same person for the rest of this piece/mini-series (not sorry lol). enhypen are pervs! like freaky pervs! decelis corp is lowkey highkey a sex service company lol. you must really need this job but it's ok because same. inspired by both enha's new music video AND the intern mini-series by @lomlhwa (literally CHEF'S kiss)

reblogs are appreciated!!

Welcome to Decelis Corporation! As the new member of the creative department, you're tasked with developing new ideas to help promote the company and bring in new investors! Though the creative department is not as big as the other departments, you and your seven teammates are just as capable and incredibly skilled! Though, no one told you just how skilled they were... And unfortunately you made the mistake of not reading the fine print when signing the contract...

All members are welcome to explore the services provided by Decelis! By signing this contract, you are consenting to every and all services at your own expense (refer to the employee handbook for the list of services)! Please note that services outside of office hours will not count as overtime unless a request has been submitted by the team leader!

Thank you for joining Decelis Corporation! We hope to have you for a while!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

PART I: Heeseung, Office Manager/Team Leader

He was very friendly when you first came into the company. Heeseung was one of the first people to really show you the ropes of the office. He told you where the good coffee was and where to buy lunch if you didn't bring any from home. He also helped you with deadlines if the other guys (Sunghoon) decided to leave you with the bulk of the shared work. Heeseung is a good guy.

What you're not aware of, is his lingering stare when you're too close to another team member. Or when you wear your pencil skirts rather than your dress pants. Or when you decide to dress more casually in jeans and bend down to find the pen you just dropped.

Heeseung was a starer with many thoughts about you.

He knows you didn't read the fine print of the company contract. You have this innocent look on your face that's unaware of the multiple uses of the break room on your floor. You smile at him so prettily, completely oblivious to the wolfish stares he and the others give you. You look at him with admiration, and it gets him hard when he's reading through the weekly reports that Sunoo emails him.

Today is no exception. You're wearing your hair in a ponytail and you're sporting glasses instead of your contacts.

"Why the glasses?" he hears Jungwon ask.

"I- I was running late..." you replied, looking a bit embarrassed. You miss the way Jungwon smirks at you, but Heeseung doesn't. And he doesn't like it.

"Jungwon." You both straighten up at the sound of the leader's voice. Heeseung steadily walks towards you both, eyes locked on the younger man. "Did you send me the spreadsheet for this week?" Jungwon's eyebrows rise up as a sudden epiphany hits him at the mention of the spreadsheet. he sputters out a half-apology, going back to his desk to start it.

"Y/n?"

You turn towards Heeseung, and you resemble a deer caught in headlights. Heeseung has to suppress the thought of you on your knees for him when you look at him with your wide eyes.

"The higher-ups really liked your report from last week," he starts off. Your eyes twinkle at the news. You also seem to relax a bit compared to when Jungwon was spoken to.

"Really?"

Heeseung nods, taking a step closer towards you.

"They were wondering if you could stay overtime to make some calls about your proposals."

That spark in your eye is gone at the mention of having to stay past office hours. Heeseung's eyebrow raises at the change in mood.

"You don't want to? I already filled out the overtime form for you, I just need a confirmation..."

"It's not that I don't want to... It's just that, Jungwon asked if I wanted to eat dinner with him later..."

Heeseung feels his eye twitch.

"And I hate the thought of staying here on my own late at night. It's kinda creepy..."

There's a bit of silence between you two and you think he might tease you but instead, he flashes you a smile. It's the same one he gave you on your first day when he welcomed you.

"I'll stay with you. I have to work on some things anyways."

Your first overtime shift was when you realized that maybe you should've read the fine print.

Heeseung's kisses were hungry. You were worried about being caught but according to him,

"Overtime means no disruptions. It's on page 15 of the handbook."

He has you perched on one of the desks in your department. His hands felt like fire. His lips were addicting. You felt like you were about to explode if he kept grinding his hardened cock against your leg.

"S-slow down, Hee," you bite your lip to swallow down a moan. He simply smirks at you before kissing down your neck. You whimper when you feel his teeth nibble around the area.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting, baby. Been wanting to fuck you since day one." He harshly bites down on the side of your neck, and you're so sure that you're going to have to wear one of your turtlenecks tomorrow.

Heeseung's hand starts trailing from your thigh to your clothed pussy. The material of your dress pants feels rough against your clit when Heeseung cups you.

"H-hold on Hee! We don't even know each other!"

He clicks his tongue before letting out a sigh.

"Y/nnie... You've been working here for 3 months now... Of course we know each other!"

"B-but we never hang out outside of work-!"

Heeseung cuts you off by leaning in to kiss you, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth. You immediately reciprocate his kiss and move your own tongue against his. He pulls away and puts his forehead against your own, a laugh escapes him.

"You say you don't know me, but you're kissing me back so well. You want this Y/nnie~"

You let out a whine, the hand on his chest uselessly pushing him away. Heeseung proceeds to unbutton your dress pants before slowly pulling down the zipper. He holds eye contact with you as he does this, smiling even wider when you make no effort to really stop him.

"Tell me something Y/n." He shoves his hand down your underwear, immediately feeling your wet cunt, spreading your lower lips to gather your wetness on his fingers. "Have you ever thought of me doing something to you?" He adds a single finger inside your aching pussy.

"N-no!" you look away from him, too embarrassed to have let him have his way with you. Your answer doesn't seem to please him, because Heeseung then adds another finger, moving them in and out of your cunt and reaching spots that you haven't been able to. Your face falls at the sensation, and you're using every fiber of your being to not give into him.

"You're lying baby, I see the way you look at me." Heeseung's fingers pick up the pace, the sloshing sound of your cunt is so erotic and almost immediately you give up trying to stay quiet.

"Hee-Heeseung! Oh my God~" Your toes curl when he hits a particular spot, head thrown back as you quickly give up fighting against him. You unconsciously spread your legs more for him, and he can only laugh at you.

"Such a slut, baby." You clench at his words, eyes rolling back as he continues. "What will Wonie say when he finds out I fucked you on his desk?"

You can barely hear what he's saying, too focused on his fingers deep in your cunt. Your jaw hangs open as his fingers begin to get rougher.

"D-don't stop! Fuck! M'almost close Hee!" You're moaning like a mantra, too far gone because of him.

"You gonna come for me baby?"

You nod, mind going numb to truly respond to him.

He feels your pussy begin to spasm and he helps you ride out your orgasm by rubbing his thumb against your clit. Heeseung doesn't stop until you're whining at the overstimulation and pushing his hand away. You feel some seconds pass and you forget what you're about to say to him because he makes you stand from the desk and pushes you to your knees. You look up at Heeseung and he's looking down at you as he unbuckles his belt.

"We're gonna make use of your pretty ponytail, hmm?" He doesn't even fully remove his pants, instead he pushes them and his underwear down enough to free his cock. It's not girthy, but it's long. "Give it a kiss?"

You hesitantly lean in to peck the tip. It feels hot again your lips. You look back up at him and Heeseung rolls his eyes.

"You gotta put it in your mouth now, baby."

You swallow the lump that's stuck in your throat before leaning in to suck his tip into your mouth. Heeseung lets out a sigh, nodding his head to encourage you to take more of him. You slowly take as much of his length as you can, you feel his tip at the back of your throat and you can't help the gag that arises. He's not even halfway in. l

"Careful baby, don't want you to choke. Breathe f'me." You nod, and slowly take in more of him. Heeseung lets out a groan when he looks down at you. He regrets leaving his phone on his desk when your nose touches his abdomen.

You slowly begin to bob your head along his cock, careful to not gag around him. Drool begins to drip down your jaw and onto your neck. Heeseung lets out a moan. You feel the grip on your ponytail tighten and let out a whine when Heeseung begins to control your pace to a faster one.

"Look so pretty like this... Jay's gonna be so jealous." You don't register what he says, too focus on how turned on you are. Your glasses start to fog up at Heeseung's ministrations. Your face sports a sheen layer of sweat. The sounds that emit from you make you feel dizzy.

Heeseung sees the way you look and grins when he feels your hands grip onto his leg.

"You like my cock?" His grin spreads when he sees your eyes roll. "Keep going baby, gonna come real soon."

Your thighs start to rub together to relieve some of the tension. Heeseung notices and forces his leg between your thighs, placing his dress shoe against your cunt.

"Use me baby."

You grind your cunt against his shoe, your moan vibrating on his cock. Heeseung's breathing begins to stagger the more you continue. His hold on your ponytail tightens as his pace becomes sloppy.

"Gonna come, I want you to swallow, ok?" You try your best to nod, too indulged by the relief he's given you. Heeseung bobs your head once, twice, and you feel his cum release into you mouth. He keeps your head still as he empties himself out, breathing hard to calm himself down. After some seconds, Heeseung removes his hand from your hair and his foot from between your legs, you whine out in protest at the loss, but he simply leans down to catch your jaw, tilting your head up.

"Swallow baby." You do as he says, and he lets out a low groan when your tongue comes out to clean around your lips.

Heeseung helps you stand on your feet before turning you around, pushing your chest against the surface of the desk.

You finally get a good look at the desk and your eyes widened in realization of Heeseung's words from earlier. Right in front of you is Jungwon's framed photo of him and your team leader. You're about to protest when you feel your pants being pulled all the way down and Heeseung's own belt hitting the floor.

"This is Jungwon's desk Hee! We have to go somewhere else-!" For the second time, Heeseung cuts you off by landing a smack on your ass. You feel a glob of spit fall on your opening and his tip rubs itself against you to gather his spit and your own wetness.

"Don't mention his name."

He pushes into you in one go, your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Heeseung beings to pound into your pussy, his grip on your hips are sure to leave a mark. You try to hold yourself up on your elbows, but his hand pushes your head on the desk to keep you down.

"Pussy so fucking good." He throws his head back, reveling in the feeling of your pussy. You whimper as he lands a hard smack on your ass again.

"Heeseung! S-slow down!" You shut your eyes at his brutal pace. Your airways feel constricted the more he fucks you.

You want to tell him that this isn't right. Not only are you soiling Jungwon's desk, he's not listening to you at all. But the sick little side of you has always wanted this. You've thought about Heeseung before. Thought about how he'd be like in bed, about the feeling of his cock, if he was vocal or quiet. You've had many thoughts about Heeseung, you're just too shy to act on it.

"Such a whiny baby, Y/nnie. Y'feel that?" He takes your hand and trails it down to press it against your stomach. His cock bulges out slightly, making you feel dizzy at how deep he is.

"Who's fucking you?"

Your brain is barely functioning, too cock-drunk to answer him. Heeseung's hand lingers to your throat to squeeze it before pulling you up against his chest by your neck.

"Answer me baby, who's fucking you so good?"

"Y-you! You Hee! Fuck! So good!"

Your moans are incoherent, as he speeds up his pace. His thrusts begin to get more sloppy.

"Please let me come inside. Let me eat your pussy with my cum."

You clench around his cock at his words. Heeseung's hand on your hips move to rub your clit. Your legs begin to tremble and finally, you came, spasming around him. Heeseung thrusts into you a couple more times before finally coming as well.

You shudder at how warm his cum feels inside you. He stays inside for a bit and you're grateful, too spent to really move and let him move. His hands find purchase on your hips again, rubbing them as if to soothe you.

"So.... You're still gonna let me eat you out right?"

[unlicensed-queer]

Study Session

Summary: Donnie and the reader are childhood friends going to college together and feelings run hot one night working on a biology project

Warnings: Shmut (sub! Donnie and unprotected sex, wrap it up folks, unprotected is only fun in fiction and monogamous relationships!)

Pairing: Donnie Darko x Fem! Reader

Notes: so like the smut was fun but I loved writing the dialogue between reader and Donnie, it was so fun to imagine them being tired and frustrated with their assignment and blaming the flies. First smut post hope y'all enjoy! (I did not proofread this have mercy on me). Divider by @saradika-graphics

Donnie and you had been friends as long as you could remember. You had grown up next door neighbors, running around the neighborhood, poking salamanders and making mud castles. Then later as soon as you got your license, the two of you drove around looking for anything to do in your sleepy Iowa town. You'd been together forever, always had each other's backs and been there for each other through your darkest moments. You knew almost everything about Donnie, except one thing. What you didn't know was that he had been pining after you since he could recognize the difference between girls and boys. You didn't know that he had picked the college he did simply because you were going there and he couldn't stand the thought of not being able to see you. And you didn't know that every night Donnie lay awake with his hand in his pants and his eyes closed, thinking of the way your hair smelled and how the sun shone off your skin. He was addicted to you, obsessed. One time you left your hoodie at his dorm, he had cherished it. He kept it in a box in his closet, secluded and safe, taking it out to bury his face in your scent as he rutted helplessly into his bed. The poor boy wanted you so bad it hurt. Of course it wasn't just that he thought you were hot, a lot of girls were hot, no it was the fact that you never treated him like a bomb about to go off, never looked at him like he might snap and run at you with a broken glass. You treated him like a normal friend, even after the shit show with the flooded school and the inspirational speakers house. But the fact that you were everything he ever wanted in a girl, strong, confident and forceful, didn't hurt.

Now Donnie was smart and Donnie was brave but he was terrified to admit any of this to you. He was so scared of ruining what you had that he held it back, content with his fantasies and his right hand, left if he was feeling adventurous.

One night you were sitting together, chewing your pencils and scratching your head over a biology project. The results of your trials weren't lining up the way they were supposed to and you just couldnt figure out what was going wrong. Donnie sat back with a sigh and stretched his cramped back.

"I dunno man have you considered that maybe the flies are just fucking stupid or something?" He asked, to frustrated to think of any actual ideas "maybe tomorrow we can print off an instruction manual of what they're supposed to do and they can read it with their weird ass little eyes"

You huffed a distracted laugh as you looked over the spreadsheets for the millionth time

"Sure let's tell them that they're giving they're larvae the wrong birth defects and that they need to try harder" You let your head fall, thumping against the textbook on your mattress

"I don't know what's going wrong, maybe the dosages in the food is wrong?" You asked, voice muffled. Donnie looked down at you. Your were laying on your stomach and your shirt had rode up, exposing the dip of your back. He swallowed, funny how an inch of exposed skin and the curve of your ass in shorts could make his brain short circuit.

"Yeah uh, we could try that"

You looked back, frowning slightly.

"You good Donnie? You look all sweaty are you sick?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. Donnie gave a bright and only slightly forced smile and gave you a thumbs up. As soon as you turned away he hurriedly grabbed a throw pillow and held it on top of his lap. He groaned internally, why did he always feel like this in the most inconvenient times? He didn't want to be one of those gross guy best friends that only spend time with a girl because they want to fuck her, but he needed you so badly. He could have drooled over the sight of the how your clothes hugged your body, how your shoulder moved as you turned pages.

Donnie took a deep breath, he couldn't stand it anymore. Even if you rejected him it would still be better than this halfway hell of agonizing over you day and night

"Y/N, I..I wanna..I gotta say something" Donnie mumbled, twisting the tassels on your pillow. You sat up and looked at him.

"Is it why you been acting so weird for the last 20 minutes?" You asked, pushing your hair back "do I have something stuck in my teeth?" You lifted your hand to your mouth in worry.

"Nonono, your teeth look great, you look great , I-" Donnie flushed with nerves. He could string together a rant about smurfs or rabbits or why he hated fakey VHS messiahs but as soon as he wanted to just say he liked you it was all jumbled up. You were so close to him, he could see the faint freckles on your nose. He didn't think about doing it, he just knew that a moment later his lips were pressed to yours and it was everything he ever wanted. He didn't care if you slapped him and never wanted to speak again, it was worth it for a moment of feeling your plush lips and being enveloped in your scent. He broke away, lips parted and pupils blown wide.

“Sorry uh-" he didn't even get to finish his sentence before you had pushed him back onto the bed, kissing him hard. Donnie moaned and threaded his hands into your hair. You were both inexperienced and the kiss was all tongue and teeth but still the heat pooled in your core. You pulled away for a moment to breathe, looking down at Donnie. His lips were swollen and pink, his hair messy and his cheeks flushed.

“Y/N, fuck, need..need you" he whimpered, tugging at your waist band. He felt like his brain was melting, you were so pretty and he was so hard and he needed you so badly it hurt.

“Please-please I-” Donnie felt you wrap a hand around his cock and he gave a whimper that sounded like he was about to cry.

"Need what?” You teased. You knew full well what he wanted, your pussy warm and wet around him. But you weren't going to let him have it that easy, he'd get spoiled.

“Wanna fuck you, please Y/N, I'll make you feel so good I just need you, needa be inside you.." Donnie begged, pressing kisses to your neck and face. “Please" he whispered into your skin, drunk on the strawberry scent of your body wash.

“So polite aren't you?" You murmured to Donnie as you cradled his face in one hand. You shifted your legs to pull off your shorts. Donnie looked down with wide eyes and swallowed dryly.

“Cat got your tongue?" You laughed as you tugged down his pants and boxers to his knees. Donnie looked back at you. His eyes were huge, they always were but this time they seemed almost glassy with awe.

“You're so pretty" he whispered, lifting his hands to your hips. You smiled and kissed him slowly as you sank down onto him. Donnie groaned into the kiss, his hips bucking unconsciously. It felt so much better than he could have imagined, tight and hot and velvet soft, rippling around him. He bit his lip trying not to cum instantly. A shock of electric pleasure shot through him when you started to ride him. He couldn't control the sounds he made. He didn't know if he was talking or whimpering or what but his mouth was open, praise and pleasure dripping from his lips.

“Feel so good inside me" you panted, hips raising and falling, the obscene sound of your skin together filling the dorm. Your hips burned but the pleasure was enough you couldn't stop. You were lost in the pleasure when you felt Donnie grab your hips, halting your movement. You looked down in confusion, seeing Donnie with his eyes clenched closed.

“Donnie? Are..are you ok?" What if he wanted to stop? Had you done something wrong?

“Just..just gotta..hold on for a second" Donnie mumbled, face flushing red. His cock throbbing, desperate to cum. You looked down at him, a knowing grin spreading across your face

“Were you about to cum?" You asked, mirth in your voice. Donnie flushed even redder

“Not my fault you're..fucking good at this!" He protested, taking a few deep breaths to back himself away from the edge. You laughed, your head tipping back. Donnie couldn't believe how beautiful you were. He gripped your hips again, thrusting his hips up. The tight wet heat was intoxicating, he felt like he could drown in your scent and die a happy man. You were his goddess and his altar and he would worship any way he could. As you started to move again Donnie bit back a whimper as his cock throbbed.

“So pretty, so fucking pretty" he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. Your lips pressed together in a messy and desperate kiss. Donnie fucked you like he wanted to be part of you, whimpering desperate pleas and praises as he thrust his hips up automatically. He could feel his climax building, rushing up on him and he gripped your hips tightly.

“Can’t-nnh-can’t stop-Y/N-” he grunted, he could feel your hot breath panting on his neck as you bounced above him. He reached down and pressed two fingers to your clit, rubbing in a circular motion, entranced by how wet you were. The additional stimulus made your brain short circuit and you gave a breathy moan, Donnie wanted to record that and play it on loop until he came dry.

"hh-fuck-hh” Donnie couldn't string together a sentence as he held himself back from cumming. He didn't want to cum before you, he wanted to serve you, to be good. Above him he felt you seize, your pussy rippling around him as you gasped. He felt a gush of slickness over his hand and he couldn't help himself, cumming hard with a whimpering moan of your name. As he lay, panting and sweaty with you laying on his chest one thought crossed his mind.

“Best fucking study sesh ever"

[gurugirl]

Boss!harry | series preview

This is a Patreon-only series!

Summary: Harry's your boss and you're trying really hard not to develop feelings for him.

Warning: This is an angsty series y'all!

His warm hand smoothed over your hip and curled around your side as he scooted in closer.

You weren't sure what to expect when he'd wake up. You thought maybe he'd be right back to business, take you back to your car so you could go home and get yourself ready for the day. You hadn't expected that he'd be kissing up the column of your neck to your jaw with hot puffs of breath falling from his mouth and spreading over your skin slowly like melting wax.

You also hadn't expected your body's immediate reaction to him. The liquid heat pooling between your naked thighs and the way your nipples tightened underneath the cotton of his t-shirt. When he slid his hand underneath the fabric and up your tummy to your breast you rattled a moan that sounded like desperation. The way he squeezed around your sensitive tits was something you had no idea you needed. He practically worshiped your nipples and the soft plush skin of your breasts the night before.

The blankets tangled around your ankle as you rolled to your side to face him and he pulled you in by your thigh, pressing your naked core against his morning wood.

Fuck.

It was one thing to have a wild night with your excruciatingly handsome boss, but it was another to do it again upon waking before you were meant to be at work and pretending like nothing had happened.

Pretending. You could pretend. You'd have to because he made it clear the night before that this wasn't a thing. That this was just sex and you'd need to keep it quiet. That it wasn't going to happen again. It couldn't.

Which meant the way he touched you was just sex, just something for that moment. The way the remnants of his palm prints burned into your skin left behind something that would turn hollow and bitter the moment you left his front door made your stomach curl into itself.

You swallowed down the loss before it had even arrived. A one-night stand with your boss was a bad idea and this was why. Harry would be fine after (he could have anyone he wanted) and you'd be left reeling and abandoned. Again. Because this is what men did. You were only good for as long as they saw fit. And after this, Harry wouldn't want or need anything more from you. Why would he?

"Y/n…" he breathed your name against your lips, "Already shaking and I've barely touched you, baby. God I just wanna eat you alive."

He would eat you alive too. Chew you up and spit you right back out. But you wouldn't stop him from doing it. You couldn't stop it because if that's all it could be you'd take the last bits of what he'd offer and be on your way.

It was a sleepy morning, hazy, blurry, soft… Harry's hands and his tongue worked down your body until he'd found your pussy and he slowly, lazily ate you out until you were coming and crying.

And that time, when he fucked into you, it was slow and steady. Slippery wet. Your bare breasts were pressed into his chest as he licked into your mouth and the embers grew and sparked until they caught and your body was at the edge of surrender.

"Fuck your pussy feels just right," he groaned as he dragged himself through your walls, coating himself in your arousal, your scent.

You whimpered and stuffed your fingers into his hair as he ground his pelvis into your clit. The perfect angle, the perfect cock. Too bad he wasn't the perfect man. You couldn't have him. For obvious reasons.

Your throaty moans were swallowed by his mouth, his length smashing into your guts with a wet slapping sound as you both moved together as one. Sex and sweat and heat and the imprint of desire.

He was soft; his words, his cadence, his hands… but the thick and heavy organ moving into your tummy was anything but soft; stiff, masculine, and rigid, it stretched your insides wide open. He needed the room and your body accommodated every inch of him. Gushy.

When he spoke against your ear, the hitch in his voice was almost whiny, like he was the one who was going to feel the loss. Like he was going to be left hollow and you were the one eating him alive, "Baby… shit. Right there?" He nudged into you and stilled himself so you could feel what he meant. Right there. Yes. Right there. Tight and spongy, the pulse emanating from your cunt was wrapped around him, a rhythmic beating that tremored down through his cock and into the veins and nerve endings. Connected.

You stuffed down the dribble of emotion that swelled in your throat and threatened to break from your waterline.

It's just sex. You're a sexual being who needed a good release. It's just sex. You don't need him. It's. Just. Sex.

But it certainly didn't just feel like sex when his soft green irises found your gaze and he held it as he languidly rocked into you. He dotted kisses along your face and then he'd watch you for a moment and it was going to have you mixed up because it was so intimate. So tender of him.

Maybe if he'd flip you around and fuck you from behind and give you a nice spanking it'd feel like just sex. He'd done that the night before (among other positions). Had you drooling into his mattress as he plowed into you from behind, a couple of good swats on your ass as he said filthy things to you. That felt like just sex. Good sex, but still.

So the soft and slow morning fuck with gentle kisses and an easy, damp tongue over your parted lips, his eyes connected to yours as he moaned and slid his thumb at your temple – that was not just sex and you didn't want it.

Well, you did want it. You really did because you wanted to find someone that would do all those things. But you wanted that for good. Not just for the night.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" Harry sponged a kiss to the edge of your mouth.

"Yeah. I'm okay," you were breathless and on the edge of tears. A ridiculous girl.

"Does it hurt from last night? Was it too much?"

Swallowing you blinked your eyes and he was still softly caressing your face with his thumb like only a lover would do.

"It… a little. I feel fine now. You're so gentle so it's okay."

"That's why I'm being careful. Thought you might need it softer this morning. Are you sure you're okay?"

Too attentive. Too thoughtful. Too present. How were you going to separate your romantic nature from your carnal one? How did all the other women do it? You were sure he was like this with every girl he brought to his bed.

If you'd like to see more consider joining my Patreon if you haven't already! xoxo

[cinhomi]

𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑑

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Han Jisung x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you and your soulmate in a random morning of May

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: descriptions of sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, no dynamic specified, vanilla, talks of death and afterlife

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9K

“Ji?”

It's warm. The Sun’s rays penetrate the cream colored curtains of his bedroom and dance on your naked skin. The tree outside paints stunning shadows that turn into shapes that move with the light, in a psychedelic motion that molds with your bodies. A pantone of warm colors reflects everywhere and it's as if they're about to spill in your heart, too.

“Yeah, baby?”

His voice is barely a whisper, his breath tickles your ear. You can feel his hand move from your side to go up, up, until it reaches your neck and his fingers delicately close round it. You feel his bottom lip first, then the upper one, as he starts to leave little pecks on your nape, your jawline. The presence of his other arm is persistent, under you, dragging you closer until your back is flat on his chest. The pendant of his necklace starts to leave a print between your shoulder blades.

“Do you think there's life after death?”

He halts his actions. Jisung leaves another kiss behind your ear and inhales, hoping to get drunk with your scent. His hand caresses your cheek, and then travels down to your arm, finding your wrist, taking it close to his pretty mouth to rest there, to let him kiss it. He presses your digits on his lips and gives attention to each of them. It takes him a while to reply, but you give him all the time he needs.

“I like to believe that there is, yes.” his eyes close for a moment, it's almost as if he wants to memorize your fingerprints. “Where does this question come from, baby?”

When you turn around to face him you find his faint smile, his adoring eyes that trail from your chest, to your lips, to your own irises. There's a rebelling tuft of curly hair that stands alone on his head, and the mole on his cheek moves whenever he swallows. You caress the one placed on his collarbone, before taking a deep breath. “I just… I was thinking- when we die… our body remains here, right?”

Jisung nods and hums, brows furrowing slightly, trying to predict the path your thoughts will take.

“And, wouldn't it be sad if it all ended… like that? Or maybe- or maybe that's the beauty of it? In the end we really always kind of leave a piece of us here. Being it bones or ashes…"

He hooks the necklace he gifted you the night prior, twistes it in his hand and watches it shine. “I always feel like we're too big to just end with death, you know? I don't know if we actually reincarnate or if something like Heaven or Hell exists, but I don't want to- no, I can't accept the idea of disappearing from the universe completely.” he explains, all while bringing you close to him again, your breasts now against his chest, your leg brushing his glutes as he takes it to rest on his hip. “Do you agree?”

“Yeah,” you pout, your hands open to feel his muscles tense under your touch, “we are immense. Don't you ever think that, sometimes, you have strong feelings about something because you were connected with it in your previous life?”

Jisung nods, he leaves a kiss on the crown of your head. “For example?” he chimes in, resting his head on your pillow.

“Well,” you start, a hint of a giggle already threatening your voice, “maybe you're scared of bugs because in a previous life one killed you!” and a light slap can be heard on your shoulder as he shakes his head trying to suppress a smile.

“I thought you were about to be all cute and reference us… tch.” he looks at the ceiling, faking being offended.

“What do you mean?” and at your question his farce crumbles immediately, enamored eyes staring down at you.

“Maybe we're together now because we were lovers in our past life, too. No?”

All words die in your throat. There's a block forming in the pit of your stomach and your waterline starts to tingle.

“From the first moment my eyes laid on you, I knew you were the one. Sometimes I think I've known you all my existence, sometimes I wonder if we come from the same star.”

“Ji…” before he can see your expression you bury your head in his chest, “this is disgustingly romantic…”

He giggles. You look at him again just to get a glimpse of his gummy smile, maybe searching for the crooked teeth he had once. You miss it sometimes.

Jisung gets up on his elbows and in moments like these he seems bigger. His shoulders are up straight, chest popped up, slim waist twisted making the faint lines of his abs become curves. You'd look at his thighs and at his cock too, but grey cotton sheets cover it all.

“But it's true! It's true… I refuse to believe otherwise. We're together in every universe, baby.” his gaze fixed on yours. “Is it childish to think so?”

You shake your head, blinking slowly. Sunlight is still a bit too strong, your eyes straining from it, but the way it reflects on him, it's mesmerizing. Jisung takes your face in his hands and kisses you, tenderly, totally opposed to how he did it the night prior. It's so sweet, it's overwhelmingly sweet and you can't help but melt as his index finger caresses the corner of your eye, as his thumb taps your bottom lip for him to take between his. There's still a slight ache between your legs but it's a lovely feeling. There's still the smell of your juices, your panties by the end of the bed, his shirt hanging on the corner of his TV.

“I'll find you in every universe,” he whispers between kisses, “I'll be by your side, even if we become different things, I'll- I'll find a way, angel, I'll find it.” more urgently, his cold rings roam on your back, lifting you up enough to have his arms around you. It makes you sigh, it makes you whimper.

“I- I want-” you gasp, his tongue is under your jaw and it keeps on traveling down every valley of your body. There are soft but obnoxious sounds now echoing in the room. There's also a dog barking in the distance, few cars passing by, someone opening their shutters. “I want everything I lost to- come back to me, Jisung…”

His head is now on your belly, he stays there with his eyes closed. Jisung sighs. He kisses your belly button and goes even lower, almost disappearing under the covers.

“It will…” he inhales your smell, you, groaning against your navel, “it's already here angel. You may not be seeing it, but you're already surrounded by it. You said that, we just leave our bodies-” he checks on your expression quickly. “You feel it, don't you?”

He sees your eyelashes flutter and your head moving up and down. Jisung kisses your clit, and then your labia, and his eyes roll back when your soft sounds reach him. When your leg lifts and your knee presses on his cheek, nudging him away, big round confused eyes run all over you once again.

“Inside…” even if the sentence floats between you too, Jisung understands. He comes up and the way the freshly clean cotton falls from his figure reminds you that time at the lake, when he came out from the water to make love to you under a willow. He's hard, you feel it against your thigh.

“Need me to stretch you?” he's whispering, he's kissing your left shoulder. As you shake your head, his tip is already catching in your entrance.

“It'll be okay baby. I know you miss them, but your heart is big,” his cock slowly slips inside you as he speaks, “your heart is big and I love you for this reason.” and then you find yourself full, of him, of his sweet words, full of light and sorrow and sadness and cheesecake. You feel so many things, it's only natural that some tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but Jisung kisses them all away, but Jisung hushes you and rolls his hips deeper into you, with the same rhythm of the tap of your kitchen sink, that broke two days ago. Later he’ll call someone to fix it.

When your palms glide on his back you feel bumps, formed as long streaks. You close your eyes, you touch them like a blind person reading braille, you try to read him. It's written “I love you” all over. He adores it when you hold him flush over you, when your nails cling to him as he thrusts into you, adores your delirant praise, hushed under your breath.

Jisung drags his voice in long moans, you feel them hot on your neck, they alternate with hisses while his eyes squeeze shut and fight to stay open, to witness how your own face moves. They reverberate in your chest and your heart is being caressed. What was warm light now is scorcingly hot directly against your bodies, a sheen of sweat making you sparkle. It's such a nice day, you should grab coffee together later. Take his sunglasses maybe. His hoodie. His soul. He doesn't mind.

“Baby…” it's hoarse now, it'll sound melodic again when he's calm, “baby you are my everything-” his hips pick up speed, they falter, his thighs burn. When you wrap your legs on his lower half, when your heels press on him they stutter and Jisung chokes on his own words. You feel the tell-tale throbs in his cock, you feel the way his hands grip the flesh of your hips, and your walls closing around him.

“Ji- baby, look at me, look me in the eyes-” it's afternoon already. He lifts properly, both hands on the sides of your head. Jisung looks you in the eyes. Jisung, he tells you that he loves you repeatedly as he feels his high so close he thinks he's going to pass out. Your pussy sucks him in whenever he retracts his cock, he hears the change in your voice. You'll go on a walk together tonight.

He does as you asked, never closes his eyelids. He's like a god falling apart, stilling into you, orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave. It's him, it's his expression that makes you arch your back, it's him greedily covering every millimeter of skin he sees with his wet lips, it's his praise, his “baby”, his cum deep inside you. You exist. In that moment you're sure you exist because Jisung breathes life into you, because when you come for him he circles your clit and smiles. You die and then you're alive again.

Jisung stays there for a while, he keeps smiling, teeth grazing your chest and collar bones as you both start to giggle. You feel the ache again and it's comforting.

"I don't care about dying, angel. I mean, I don't want to, but… it's okay because I already knew happiness, you know?” he closes his eyes.

It's a hot day of May and few butterflies appear to do their dance in the air. It's a hot day of May and you discuss about life and death like it's nothing, like you talk about the weather. It's a hot day of May and it's easy to love, to exist, to accept the end of existence. It's just a day like the others, and that's beautiful.

“I know.” your reply comes before a sigh. You'll have to say goodbye to coffee and think about lunch. “You have to tell your mom I need her kimchi recipe, okay?”

a.n.

life is beautiful, please live it to its fullest and enjoy every moment, even if it brings pain, even if it seems dark, please cherish it. life is beautiful and you deserve to think so. I love you, take care of yourself.

[miupow]

★ ── EST-CE QUE TU AIMES LE SEXE 。。。?

what happens when you give the boys an aphrodisiac 。 。 。 (requested)

╭♡ PAIRING 。〃txt ot5 x fem!reader ! GENRE 。〃pure filthy smut ! WARNINGS 。〃minors do not interact ! aphrodisiacs , breeding kink , unprotected sex , creampie mentions , mommy mention , public sex , exhibitionism , oral (m. receiving) , hair pulling , oral (f. rec) , squirting , mating press , slight somno if you squint , anal mention (my obsession with kai and anal will never end)

𝕾OOBIN ⸝⸝

he didn’t believe it for a second, all of those overblown testimonials printed on the chocolate’s wrapping; he agreed to take it with you simply because you had gone out of your way to surprise him with the sweet, your flirty excited smile and sparkling eyes enough to get him to agree to anything at all.

imagine his surprise when a primal lust overtakes him like something he had never felt before, his eyes greedy in its appraisal of your pretty face, your collarbones, your breasts. he felt possessed, just couldn’t stop himself from taking ahold of you and marking up your heated skin. you moan so pretty underneath him, clearly affected just as much as he was; with his bunny lips suctioned around your perky nipple, top pulled down for your tits to spill out, soobin is overtaken with an inhuman need to not just fuck you, but breed you. make you his forever, fill your womb with his love.

“can i cum inside?” he pants into your tits as his fat cockhead kisses your cervix, hips moving at a speed impossible to keep up with. “please, honey, can i? wanna— wanna put a baby in you, make you a mommy, please!”

𝖄EONJUN ⸝⸝

yeonjun has to make a game out of it, simply because that’s what he loves to do the most; play with you like a toy, and have you do the same to him. share some aphrodisiac chocolates he saw online before you go out on a date, see who can last the longest before you both can’t take it anymore. you bet everything that yeonjun breaks first.

you think it’ll be easy, that there was no way a little chocolate could effect you that much, but soon you’re burning up in your little tight dress, rubbing your thighs together to soothe the ache that had settled in your cunt. and yeonjun fares no better, pink in the face and squirming in his seat, too busy looking at you to focus on his expensive meal— you can’t help but slide your hand down under the table to feel if he was as hard as you thought he was.

you win just as you knew you would, yeonjun pulling you out of your seat and to the bathroom without a word; you giggle as your knees hit the tile floor, feeling triumphant even with your boyfriends cock down your throat in the bathroom of a fancy restaurant. you choke and gag around his shaft as he whispers to you every little detail of what he plans to do to you later, hand tugging at your hair and brutal pace so different than the adoration in his eyes as he fills your mouth up with his cum. “can’t ever get enough of you,” he coos, caressing your swollen cheeks, “even without the chocolates.”

𝕭EOMGYU ⸝⸝

beomgyu is willing to try anything once, especially when it comes to his dick— he’s so adventurous, in fact, that he’s always coming to you with crazier and crazier ideas, lopsided and salacious grin always managing to convince you to do whatever he wants with wet panties. he’s the one who brings the candies home, goads you into eating the entire box with him until your kisses turned heated and sticky.

“need more,” he gasps against your lips, cock tenting his jeans and bucking against your inner thigh, nimble fingers tearing you out of your clothes, “need to be inside of you..” you let him manhandle you with ease, preening as he pulls your panties to the side and delivers playful spanks to your dripping folds.

he slides his throbbing cock in with barely any prep at all, so wet you don’t even need it ; your pussy squelches loud and obscene as he bottoms out, makes beomgyu throw his head back and groan deep in his chest. you watch over your shoulder as his adams apple bobs, your chest against the mattress with your ass up in the air, held still with beomgyu’s big hands gripping tight to your hips. “fuck yeah, take it—!” he hisses, beginning to thrust in and out of your sloppy hole at an overwhelming strength and speed. “such tight fuckin’ pussy, all for me, yeah? say it, tell me whose pussy this is! fuck, i’m gonna cum already..”

𝕿AEHYUN ⸝⸝

he refuses to try them at all at first, calls them dumb placebos when you point to a display of “aphrodisiac” chocolates excitedly in the sex shop. but you don’t stop bringing them up, and taehyun would do anything if it made you happy… so he caves in and purchases them as a surprise, pulls them out one night when it’s just you and him.

he fully expects for nothing to happen at all, yet in under an hour he’s all over you, face buried between your legs as he fists his thick cock— he’s so hard it hurts, twitching and throbbing, fat tip almost purple, but he just can’t seem to tear his mouth away from your wet little pussy. “tastes so fucking good,” he moans against your engorged clit, the vibrations making you cry out. “can’t get enough..”

he doesn’t stop until you’ve squirted all over his face, his chin dripping with it as he throws your legs over his shoulders and bullies his cock into your fluttering hole. the stretch is overwhelming in the best possible way, taehyun immediately beginning to thrust up against your cervix like a man possessed. you plead with him to slow down, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm, but he’s deaf to your cries— pounding into you at a dizzying pace, those sharp teeth grit like an animal. “can’t stop,” he pants, hiking up his leg to thrust into you impossibly harder, deeper. “i gotta make you cum again!”

𝕳UENING𝕶AI⸝⸝

kai is already so insatiable, giving him an aphrodisiac was a mistake— he hasn’t let you leave the bed in hours, the both of you exhausted and sore but still so horny. your swollen abused holes leak thick globs of his cum, staining the sheets but neither of you have the energy to be bothered. not when you were so cozy in his arms, his broad chest against your back as you both drifted in and out of sleep.

you squeak in surprise when you feel kai’s hips grind lazily against the swell of your ass, cock still hard even after the countless loads he’s pumped into your womb; it slides hot and heavy between your asscheeks, teasing your gaping creampied asshole, makes your pussy ache for attention despite how worn out you were. without a thought you lift up your leg to give kai the access to slide up between your wet pussy lips.

“can you take more?” kai whispers into your ear, voice deep and groggy, and you can’t stop yourself from nodding, pushing your ass up against him. his big cock slips in so easily, tiny pussy that usually needs so much prep sucking him in so greedily, aided by all of his cum. you both moan in sync as he bottoms out, fat flared cockhead kissing your bartered cervix so sweetly. “i’ll be gentle, baby, i promise.” he purrs, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

[velvetreds]

photographer suna hcs!

cws — gn!reader, not proofread. wc — 520

photographer! suna who's childhood friends with you, and always begs you to model in his photos, showering you with praise and compliments to try and change your mind every time you do. you roll your eyes at the fake compliments, but they're actually real. when he calls you pretty or gorgeous or angelic or ethereal he really does mean it.

photographer! suna who has exactly one picture that you agreed to model in, all the way back in high school. you're really not in it at all — your hand is, because you're holding a lighter, the flame of which is the main focus of the picture. it's his favourite one anyways, because you're still a part of it even if you're barely visible at all.

photographer! suna who stops asking you to model for a while; he's satisfied with the photo he already has, and it's printed out and framed in his room.

photographer! suna who finally manages to convince you to actually be a model maybe five years after he took the original photo.

photographer! suna who buys you coffee for an entire month and drives you wherever you want to go. he acts so huffy about it but really he's enjoying every extra second he's getting to spend with you.

photographer! suna who has his usual deadpan expression on his face when he finally lifts the camera up, but his hands are shaking so hard the camera can't focus. because you're just so pretty.

photographer! suna who realises that you look really good in white.

photographer! suna who forgets how to breathe when you half turn away from the window to look at the camera, and ask him nervously, "like this?"

photographer! suna who feels like he's looking at an actual angel, not a person. in the golden light, you look more

photographer! suna who has no idea why you're nervous, when you look this perfect.

photographer! suna who suddenly imagines you in white, but at a wedding, coming to him. he tries to play it off as a photographer's creative vision, like he hasn't had a thing for you since high school.

photographer! suna who may have accidentally said something along those lines, because suddenly you're doubling over, laughing, and he must be dreaming, because when you stand up, you say, "at least take me on a date first, rin."

"for real?" [suna]

"mhm." [you]

"okay, then." [suna]

photographer! suna who acts so careless about this, but in reality is freaking out inside.

photographer! suna who takes you out on one, two, three, maybe a hundred dates, until he can control the shakiness of his hands when he photographs you. he still has shaky hands when he takes pictures of you specifically, but now he can keep it in check.

photographer! suna who still buys you coffee and drives you anywhere you want to go, even though he can take pictures of you whenever he wants to now.

photographer! suna whose camera roll is full of you.

photographer! suna who regularly runs out of storage on all his devices that have a camera attached.

photographer! suna who is in love.

thank u for reading ! <3 likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. i thought of this at 5am and i was so excited to write it!

READ PART 2 HERE

[hanniebaeee]

Glow in the Dark

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing!

Genre: FLUFF, established relationship

Summary: You order matching pyjamas for you and your boyfriend, and he is absolutely delighted at the little surprise twist!

The minute you saw them while scrolling mindlessly through your phone, you knew you needed them. They were absolutely perfect - the cutest pyjama sets with glow-in-the-dark prints.

Glow-in-the-dark.

You didn't think twice before ordering two sets. A cute pumpkin one for you, and one with little ghosts for Felix. And you just couldn't wait.

So when the package arrived a few days later, you couldn't contain yourself. You tear it open, your heart bursting with excitement.

You could already picture Felix's reaction, always so wholesome and cute. Giving him surprises was such a joy, because seeing his happy smile was everything.

When he finally got home a few hours later, you were literally vibrating with excitement. He barely made it through the door before you pounced on him.

"Felix! Baby!" You rushed to him, shoving the pyjama set into his arms. He looked down at it, one eyebrow raised, a curious smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Matching pyjamas? Oh, you’re too cute.” He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Put it on! Put it on!!” You said, give him a little shove toward the bedroom.

“You’re up to something, aren’t you?” he said, giving you a suspicious look.

“Trust me, Lix, you'll love it!” You said, grinning.

“Ok, ok, I'm going!” He was already walking towards the bedroom to change.

You changed into your own set, by the time he got back to the living room. Felix’s messy hair fell in soft waves around his face and he looked so effortlessly gorgeous in those silly ghost pyjamas.

Felix knew that look on your face and he winked at you, and asked, “You like it then?”

“C'mere” You grabbed his hand and dragged him back into the bedroom.

Felix raised an eyebrow again, but he let you pull him into the room, chuckling under his breath. The moment the door closed behind you and you flicked the lights off, there was a brief silence. You could hear your heart pounding, and it got worse when felt his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Felix leaned in close, lips brushing yours as he murmured, “Is this why you wanted to get me in pyjamas so fast, baby?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, not expecting things to go in this direction, this fast. But before you could respond, the glow-in-the-dark prints come to life, lighting up the room in a pale, eerie green.

You heard Felix gasp softly beside you.

His grip on you loosened, and you pulled back just enough to see his eyes widen in awe as he looked down at his glowing ghost pyjamas. He spins around, trying to catch a glimpse of the tiny ghosts glowing across his chest and arms - giddy with excitement.

“NO WAY!” His voice was high-pitched, almost childlike, as he looked between you and his own outfit. “These are glow-in-the-dark?!”

He sounded more excited than you ever expected, his smile so wide. You were grinning like an idiot, as he rushed over to the mirror. He peered at his reflection, completely mesmerized.

“OH MY GOD!” Felix squealed and started bouncing around the room, dancing like a happy little ghost.

He was so adorable, you couldn't help but laugh, watching him have the time of his life.

“I knew you’d love it!” you giggled, and he turned to look at you with so much love in his eyes.

“I love it, baby. I freaking LOVE it.” he said, coming over to kiss you.

Once you both were a lot more calm (but still glowing) you nudged him teasingly and said, “So… you actually thought I had other ideas?”

Felix’s ears go pink instantly, and he looks away, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Oh, uh… I…you know, the way you dragged me in here, I thought you were, um…” He was just so cute, you couldn't handle it.

You trailed a finger down his chest, teasingly, and said, “You thought I was…? Hmm?”

“You know exactly what!” He groaned in embarrassment.

“I love you baby,” You mumbled, leaning forward to kiss him again. “You're so precious.”

Felix pulled you close again and his soft smile made your heart flutter.

“I love you too, babe. But seriously, these pyjamas? Best surprise ever.” he said softly.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love.

“If you're still interested, we can probably think about losing these…”

Felix stared at you, blinking a few times before a slow, sexy smile spread across his lips.

“Oh?” he hummed. “You’re really trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You just snickered, making Felix sigh as he said, “Oh just shut up.”

You laughed, hugging him tight. You can't help but fall for this man over and over again.