#and then i remembered a while ago i was helping my friend with something so i walked out of my class and when i came there

[sincerelyneo]

so high school | l.hc

“no one’s ever had me. not like you…”

📀now playing: so high school by taylor swift

❯ summary: Hyuck doesn’t care that high school was years ago; after learning his girlfriend’s experience was shitty, he’s determined to rewrite it for you. After all, he’s nothing if not smitten.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, fluff, eventual smut

❯ words: 6.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni, swearing, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, lots of gendered female terms, slight begging, brief possessiveness and jealousy bc it’s me, a brief cheating accusation but it’s stupid, hyuck being a cute boyfriend for 6k words.

an: did someone say haechan lover boy smut for valentine’s day? (they didn’t, lol. i wrote this for me, i love men in love)

“I fucking loved high school,” Hyuck says, placing down his yearbook on the coffee table.

It had to be a few years old by now, stuffed at the back of one of your bookshelves. You’d found it while doing an annual declutter and handed it to him on a whim. Knowing your boyfriend, you figured he’d find it nostalgic, or funny, or both.

You glance at him from your spot on the couch, eyebrow arched. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shifts, sitting up straighter.

“You were on the football team, babe. Voted prom king, had good grades, and probably never had to eat lunch alone,” you list off, counting on your fingers for dramatic effect. “I’d be shocked if you did hate high school.”

He laughs with a shake of his head, sinking back further into the sofa. “Okay, fine, maybe I was a little... popular.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out before you can help it. “A little? I bet you walked through the hallways like you were the lead in a drama or something stupid like that.”

He nods. “Damn right. I was the shit.”

You scoff, tossing a pillow in his direction. He’s such a cocky bastard—but you love that about him.

“Jealous?” he shoots back, smirking.

You try to playfully roll your eyes, but instead, a small frown pulls at your lips. You know he’s just teasing, messing around, but memories of junior and senior year creep into your mind uninvited. You’d never been outright bullied, but high school wasn’t exactly a highlight reel for you. 

It was a blur of sitting in the back row, trying to make yourself small enough to avoid attention. Lunches alone in the library. No group of friends. No teenage dream. Dances you skipped, pretending you didn’t care when your chest ached from watching your classmates gush over photos the Monday after.

So yeah, you were a little jealous.

“Yes, actually,” you say finally, voice quieter. “High school sucked for me.”

His grin falters, posture straightening. “What?”

“I mean, it wasn’t all bad,” you rush to explain, suddenly self-conscious. “I got through it, you know? I just wasn’t... you.”

Hyuck leans back, studying you with a look you don’t see often on him—concern, worry. “What do you mean you weren’t me?”

“I wasn’t popular or cool or good at sports. I didn’t have a big friend group, and I definitely didn’t win prom queen…not that I even went.”

Hyuck doesn’t respond right away, and when you finally glance up, you find him staring at you with an expression you can’t quite place. There’s no teasing glint in his eyes, no cocky smile playing at his lips. He just looks... sad.

“Wait,” he says, his voice softer now. “You didn’t go to prom?”

You shrug. “Didn’t really have anyone to go with.”

He blinks at you like you just told him you spent your teenage years stranded on a deserted island, which for the likes of Hyuck, not attending prom was the justified equivalent. 

“Are you serious?”

“Hyuck, it’s not a big deal,” you say quickly, waving him off. “High school just wasn’t my thing.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeats. “Babe, prom is like... the peak of high school. It’s the one night everyone remembers forever. How did no one ask you? I can’t wrap my head around that.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the tightness in your chest. “Not everyone peaked in high school, Hyuck. Some of us just... took it for what it was: school.”

His expression softens even more, guilt creeping into his features as he scoots closer, his thigh brushing yours. “You know you deserved better than that, right?”

“Hyuck—”

“I mean it,” he says firmly, cupping your face in his hands. “If I’d been there, you would’ve been my prom queen. Hell, I’d have skipped the whole damn thing just to hang out with you if you didn’t wanna go.”

The honeyed warmth in his voice makes your throat tighten, and you hate how easily he can do this—take the ache of old memories and replace it with something softer, lighter. Something you almost want to believe.

“Too bad we didn’t meet until after high school,” you say, forcing a smile.

Hyuck falters—but only for a moment. His gaze lingers on you as if a thought is forming behind his dark eyes.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “Too bad.”

You don’t think anything of it when he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your head as the conversation drifts elsewhere. But later, when he’s holding you close and you’re half-asleep, Hyuck is still thinking. Planning.

Because Lee Donghyuck might not be able to rewrite your past, but he’s damn sure going to be the best part of your future—trust. 

Hyuck just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The coolest person he’d ever met—his girlfriend, his soulmate—hadn’t gotten to live the high school teenage dream. No prom, no stupid corsages, no dancing barefoot at the end of the night because the heels were too much. Nothing.

It didn’t make sense. You were too fucking beautiful to be treated as background noise by those losers. Hyuck remembers the day he met you—a fully grown man—and you made him a stuttering mess. He’s never asked Mark for flirting advice ever in his life, but fuck, he wasn’t about to miss his chance with you. 

How could they just disregard you?

He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. How did no one ask you out? Were they blind? Or just stupid? What kind of idiot couldn’t see what he saw every day?

The thought of you sitting at home on prom night, like it didn’t matter, made his chest ache. He couldn’t picture it—because you were you, the type of person every cheesy teen movie was written about: beautiful, funny, and so damn perfect. And yet... those assholes in high school had somehow missed it.

And even though the sick, selfish, possessive side of him is so fucking grateful that he’s the only one that’s ever had you, and those assholes missed out, he still can’t help but obsess over it. He couldn’t change the past, no matter how much he wanted to, and that realization burned. 

Hyuck groans, tipping his head back. “I’m losing it,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

But he couldn’t let it go. And because he was Lee fucking Donghyuck, when something got under his skin, he acted on it. Which is why, two days later, he finds himself standing in the middle of a small-town gymnasium, arms crossed over his chest as he surveys the scene in front of him.

“Is this the best you can do?” he asks, unimpressed.

Mark, balancing precariously on a ladder while stringing up fairy lights, glares down at him. “Dude, shut the fuck up,” he snaps. “You gave us two days to put this together. Do you even know how hard it was to convince the principal? I had to name-drop you!” 

Hyuck ignores him, his eyes sweeping over the room again. Mark wasn’t wrong—he had given his friends next to no time to work with. But that didn’t stop him from wanting it to be perfect. You deserved perfect.

A cheap speaker sits on the ground, currently blasting some old prom playlist Mark had found online. The string lights slowly started taking shape, casting a soft glow across the gym. There is a table in the corner with a bowl of something pink and suspicious-looking, and a few chairs scattered around. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.

Mark climbs down from the ladder, dusting his hands on his jeans. “I think it looks fine.”

“Fine?” Hyuck repeats, scoffing. “Mark, this is a high school prom. It’s supposed to be magical or whatever. This just looks like... a school event.”

“Because it is a school event,” Mark shoots back, rolling his eyes. “Look, man, if you wanted a five-star gala, maybe you shouldn’t have sprung this on me last minute.”

Hyuck sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t trying to be an ass, but he wanted, needed, to do this for you. You’d brushed off your high school experience like it was no big deal, but he could tell it meant something to you. Maybe not in a way you wanted to admit, but it was there.

And now it was his job—no, his mission—to fix it.

“Just... add more lights,” Hyuck says finally. “And maybe some balloons? Chenle, do we have balloons?”

Chenle, who was sweeping the floors, looked back with a shake of his head, scurrying off before he got caught in the crossfire. 

Mark groans. “Hyuck, if we add any more lights, the entire gym’s gonna blow a fuse. And no, we don’t have balloons. You’re lucky I even managed to get lights.”

Hyuck sighs again, running a hand through his hair. He had money, sure—that was the only reason he’d managed to rent out the gym on such short notice—but even he couldn’t buy time.

Still, as he looked around the gym, he felt a flicker of pride. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. He’d move mountains for you if he had to. And if this half-assed prom was the closest he could get, then so be it.

Mark claps a hand on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Hey,” he says, softer now. “She’s gonna love it, dude. Stop stressing out.”

Hyuck nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Your boyfriend’s acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.

Hyuck’s always been a little odd—but that’s one of the things you love about him. The endless hobbies he picks up and abandons in a week like juggling, the random facts he collects from late-night YouTube rabbit holes, and his never-ending need to one-up his friends in bets and challenges. But this? This feels different. Like it’s more than some dumb dare or fleeting obsession.

For the past two days, he’s been unusually secretive. You’ve caught him whispering with Mark on the phone more than once, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush whenever you’d walk into the room. And then there was yesterday—when you brought coffee to his rehearsal. You barely stepped inside before the entire group went awkwardly silent, and Hyuck practically herded you back out the door. Hyuck, who usually couldn’t keep his hands off you in public and loved showing you off, suddenly turning shy…suspicious doesn’t even begin to cover it.

And let’s not forget the disappearing act last night. He came home late, shrugging off your questions with a grin and the vague excuse of “guy stuff.” Guy stuff. That was the moment you knew something was up.

And so, you’ve been sitting on the couch, stewing, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. The seconds drag, and with each passing minute, your frustration builds. By the time you hear the jingle of his keys in the door, you’re ready to burst.

Hyuck stumbles in, his hair slightly mussed, a garment bag slung over his shoulder. He looks exhausted but excited, strange. He barely gets a foot inside before you’re on him.

“Are you cheating on me?”

His jaw drops, the grin on his face disappearing instantly, eyes blinking at you like you’ve just accused him of arson. You’d honestly prefer it if he had. “What?! No! Why would you even—what the fuck?”

“You’ve been acting so weird!” you snap, crossing your arms. “The sneaky phone calls, the late nights, the whispering, the weird excuses—guy stuff? Do you think I was born yesterday?”

That makes him laugh and you swear you see red. He thinks this is funny? You’ll show him funny. 

“If you wanted to break up with me, Hyuck, don’t insult me by sneaking around! Just—just tell me to my face!” Your voice wavers, hurt bubbling in your throat as you glare at him.

Hyuck’s expression softens instantly, his eyebrows furrowing. “Hey, hey, wait—babe, no. That’s not what’s happening here, I swear.”

You narrow your eyes, pointing at the garment bag. “Oh yeah? What’s that, then? Some outfit for your other girlfriend?”

His mouth drops open, and then he barks out a laugh, though he quickly smothers it when he sees your glare. “No! Oh my God, no. Look, just… this isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he pinches his temples “Could you just go upstairs and put this on, okay?” He holds the bag out to you, practically shoving it into your hands.

“Excuse me?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Just—trust me, babe. Please. Go upstairs, put this on, and come back down when you’re ready.”

You stand there, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. Because he must have. “Hyuck, I am not—”

“Please,” he interrupts, his voice softer now. “Just this once. Do this for me. It’ll all make sense.”

His eyes meet yours, and for all the frustration boiling under your skin, you can’t ignore the quiet sincerity in his voice. Because even though his recent actions have been enough to make your paranoia spike, he’s still your Hyuck—and you trust your Hyuck.

With a sharp huff, you snatch the garment bag from his hands and stomp upstairs, slamming the bedroom door behind you before he can say another word. Your pulse is racing, irritation curling hot in your chest as you yank the zipper down and pull the dress out with more force than necessary.

It’s beautiful. And that pisses you off even more.

Who does he think he is? Sneaking around all week, ignoring you for days, then showing up with a pretty dress and expecting you to put it on without question?

Annoying. He’s so annoying.

Still scowling, you step into the dress, the silky fabric gliding over your skin like it was made for you, and knowing Hyuck he’d probably ask someone to do that for him. It fits perfectly, hugging every curve, and when you catch your reflection in the mirror, your anger stutters—just for a second. It’s beautiful. You look beautiful.

Damn it.

You swipe at your eyes before anything ridiculous like tears can form and square your shoulders. Fine. You’ll wear the dress. But you’re not going to let him off the hook so easily. Throwing the door open, you march downstairs, irritation simmering beneath the surface of your foundation. “Lee Donghyuck, you better—”

But you freeze.

Because he’s standing at the bottom of the steps in an equally beautiful suit, rocking on his heels, with a small, nervous smile playing on his lips. He’s holding a corsage in his hands—delicate flowers wrapped in silk, matching your dress perfectly.

And then, all at once, it clicks.

That fucking yearbook you found. The conversation that came after it. The sneaking around. The secrecy. 

Your breath catches in your throat, warmth creeping up your neck as a blush dusts his skin. He chews his lip, eyes flickering up to meet yours, and if you didn’t know him any better, you’d swear he was nervous.

Hyuck never gets nervous.

“Do you wanna rewrite prom with me?”

And just like that, you break.

Tears slip down your cheeks before you can stop them, and Hyuck’s smile falters just slightly as he steps forward, hand reaching out to you, as if he’s ready to catch you, to hold you close, if you were to fall. But you don’t fall. You just nod, because it feels impossible to do anything else.

How could you say no to him? How could you possibly deny the one person in the world who would do something like this for you—not because he had to, but because he wanted to, because he loves you to a point you never thought possible because he needs you to be happy.

“I love you,” you choke out through your happy tears, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them.

Hyuck’s worry shifts into something warmer, something softer. He steps closer, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek to wipe away the tear.

“Does that mean we’re not breaking up, then?” His voice is teasing, but there’s a tenderness underneath, a soft hope in his eyes that mirrors the love you just confessed.

Your heart skips a beat, and you nod through blurry eyes, a small smile breaking through. “Not even close.”

His face splits into the brightest grin you’ve ever seen, and before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you into his arms, rocking you side to side like he’s never going to let go. It’s overwhelming—the warmth of him, the scent of his cologne, the steady beat of his heart against your ear. And for once, you let yourself lean into it, let yourself feel just how much he loves you, because God, does he know how to show it.

“I love you too, you know,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, meant just for you. “Like, stupidly. Like, I’m gonna remind you every day until you’re sick of me, because I never want you to think I’m cheating on you ever again.”

You huff a laugh, sniffling. “I don’t think I could ever be sick of you.”

“Mm, we’ll see about that.” He pulls back just enough to look at you, taking in the glassiness in your eyes, the heat in your cheeks. Then, with a smirk, he presses the corsage into your hands. “Your favourite colour.”

“Now,” he says, stepping back and offering his arm, “if we don’t leave soon, Mark might actually rip my balls off.”

It takes you a second to register what he means, and when you glance past him, you see Mark leaning against his car, arms crossed, exuding pure suffering. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, but you know your Hyuck can be very convincing. 

“Are you two done?” Mark calls, exasperated. “Because I have better things to do than play chauffeur for your little rom-com tonight.”

“Liar!” Hyuck yells, dragging you toward the car. “If you weren’t here, you’d be playing video games with Chenle or something. Your life is boring and bitchless!”

Mark groans but doesn’t deny it.

“Wait! One more thing,” Hyuck gasps, stopping you just as you’re about to step into the car. Before you can question it, he’s already sprinting back inside. A few seconds later, he bursts through the door, holding up a letterman jacket that doesn’t match your old school’s colours, but his. 

And when he drapes it over your shoulders, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, his gaze catches on his surname stitched across your back. His cheeks flush that familiar shade of pink, and for once, he’s the one left speechless.

You clutch your hands to the jacket, making sure it doesn’t fall off and you can’t stop smiling. Because even though he was just being a fouled-mouthed menace to his friend. He’s clearly only ever sweet and soft with you. Hyuck opens the car door for you and he slides in beside you, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature, like they belong. You look down at your joined hands, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin, and warmth blooms in your chest.

The corsage, the letterman, the chauffeur to prom. It’s silly. It’s cheesy. It’s the kind of thing you used to roll your eyes at in movies as a teenager. But right now, with him, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Because he’s rewriting how you feel about the cheesy stuff, giving you the giddy, reckless kind of love you never got to have. 

Letting his hand rest on your thigh, making you stifle your sighs as it slowly crept up your flesh. His touch is heedless and uncaring as if Mark wasn’t inches away in the front seat. It’s compulsive, carless, and so ridiculously juvenile—it’s so high school.

Which feels very on-brand as you pull up to an old brick building. Mark cuts the engine, allowing Hyuck to round the car and open your car door before holding your hand tight and walking you towards the football field.

So many memories flooded back to you as soon as he opened the gate that led to the field. Heels on the grass, on the sacred sanctuary you never had the chance to belong on. Suddenly you’re sixteen again and Hyuck leds you over to the bleachers, climbing up several rows before taking a seat and pulling you down next to him. 

"Are we trespassing right now?" you ask, slipping your arms into his letterman to ward off the winter chill. "I know you love me, but you don’t have to commit a crime for me."

Hyuck scoffs, a playful smirk on his lips. "Please, you know I wouldn’t think twice about committing a crime for you if you asked me to." He pauses, then adds, "But no, we’re not trespassing. This is my old high school, and since I'm such an outstanding alumni, I had some strings pulled. They left me the key for tonight."

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "So they did all this just for you, huh?"

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for us.”

"Uh-huh," you tease. "I must say, knowing how to ball in high school seems to have its perks. I was in the wrong clubs clearly. You’re basically the only person I know who managed to continue peaking after high school."

Hyuck’s smile falters, a flicker of something sad crossing his face. His eyes drift downward, and you catch that same troubled look he had when you found his yearbook—when he learned how different your high school experiences were. You don’t want him to feel like that, not when he’s trying so hard to fix it. But you don’t want him to fix it either, because as messed up as your teenage years were, they led you to him. No one’s ever had you. Not like him anyway. 

You slide your hand over his, squeezing gently as you move closer. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know?”

Hyuck chuckles, that flicker of sadness vanishing as quickly as it came. “Don’t say that. You haven’t even seen what I’ve got planned inside yet. I had all the boys stressed over fairy lights and balloons all week.”

Knowing how much effort he’s put in makes you smile, your fingers drifting up to trace the curve of his cheek. He’s so beautiful. So in love. So undeniably yours.

“I’m excited to see it,” you say. “But right now, I just want to be here. Is that okay? I never really got to hang out on the bleachers.”

“Will you yell at me if I say that a sick part of me loves that you never cheered for other guys playing football?”

You shake your head with a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, undeterred. “Yeah, I wanna kill those assholes for never inviting you to a game, for not taking you to prom. But I also love that I get to be the one to do it with you. Even if we’re adults.”

You bite your lip, feigning hesitation. “Well, I have some information I think you might like.”

Hyuck raises a brow. “Oh?”

“I always wanted to make out under the bleachers,” you admit, heat creeping up your neck. “Call me cliché, but when I was a freshman, I imagined having my first kiss with Lee Felix under there.”

His nose crinkles instantly. “I don’t know who that is, but I hate him.” Hyuck scoffs, but his hands are already sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “Still… this night is about me making your fantasies come true. So fuck that guy and let me kiss you, baby.”

And you do—let his lips capture yours, kissing you until they’re swollen and puffy, until they mould perfectly to his, like they were always meant to. Until there’s no doubt that they, and you, belong to him.

Hyuck wastes no time, scooping you into his arms with ease, carrying you into the shadows beneath the rickety metal frame. And then his lips are on yours again—hungry, unrelenting. It’s everything you ever imagined. No—better. Because it’s him and you. 

His hand trails up your body as he presses you against one of the cold metal pillars, calloused fingers graze your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Years of football have roughened his touch, but it’s the way he holds you—like he can’t get enough, like he never will—that really makes your breath hitch. And you almost want to laugh, because you’re pretty sure most people fuck after prom, not before it. But this is you and Hyuck. You’ve never played by the rules, never followed the scripted path. You never wanted to.

And that’s exactly why a soft, desperate “Please,” slips from your lips as his fingers venture higher, until they’re brushing against the hem of your panties.

“Cute,” he smiles and murmurs against your lips, grinning as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, his cool touch grazing your clit. You shiver, and it only makes him that more pleased—more proud. His other hand glides up your stomach, sneaking beneath your dress until he’s palming your breast, his thumb teasing over your nipple.

“You know…” he muses, voice dripping with amusement, “I paid good money for this dress. It’d be a shame to ruin it.”

“Please. You’d never buy me a dress you didn’t plan on ruining.”

Hyuck giggles, shaking his head, but before you can run that smart mouth of yours again, his finger slips so easily into your pussy, and you gasp, clinging to his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he breathes against your ear, voice thick with need. “I love that you know me so well.”

His fingers keep working you, desperate and wild—because if you know Hyuck so well, he knows you even better. Knows your body like it’s his to worship. And when he adds a second finger, stretching you open, pleasure floods through you so intensely your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back as a moan catches in your throat.

But that won’t do.

Hyuck likes to watch you. Likes to see the way your lips part, the way your brows knit together, the way your pupils blow wide with nothing but him. He wants you to know—no, needs you to know—that he’s the one making you feel this good. That it’s his touch unravelling you, his name you should be thinking about, whimpering, crying out.

So the second your lashes flicker, his fingers slow, teasing, withholding. You whimper, forced to open your eyes again, hazy and weak—just the way he likes them—just the way he needs them to be before he picks up his pace.

He’s meticulous, careful—determined to make you cum right here, right now. If your fantasy was just to make out under the bleachers, Hyuck is going to take it further, push it past anything you ever imagined. He’s going to make you cum here, again and again, until this moment is burned into your memory. Until you can never think about high school, about this field, about these bleachers, without thinking about him. About the way he touched you. About the way he made it perfect. He always makes everything perfect. 

“Need you to cum all over my fingers, pretty girl. Come on,” he murmurs, pinching your clit as he tries to coax an orgasm out of you. And it doesn’t take long. The honeyed rasp of his voice, the relentless rhythm of his fingers, the way his eyes stay locked on yours—it’s all too much. You shatter around him with a high-pitched moan.

“Atta girl,” he breathes, watching you with nothing but admiration. “So fucking pretty when you cum for me.”

Your mind is fuzzy, his words melting into white noise as you come down from your high on shaky legs. If it weren’t for the pillar at your back, you’re certain you’d be a puddle on the floor. Hyuck holds you close, his hand stroking your hair as he murmurs soft praises against your ear—something about being so pretty, so good, so his. But all you can focus on is the growing bulge in his pants, the evidence of just how much he wants you. A bulge you put there. One you’re aching to take care of.

You start to drop to your knees, and he sucks in a breath, his eyes locked on yours.

“Stop,” he commands harshly, stepping back as if something’s shifted. It forces you to stand up straight again, confusion crossing your face.

“Don’t you want me to—”

“Oh, I fucking want you to, and you’re going to,” he growls. Then, he peels off his suit jacket and drapes it on the concrete floor between you two. “Now, you can get on your knees for me, Y/N,” he orders, his voice rough and commanding, but then it cracks, desperately. “Please.”

You lower yourself onto his suit jacket, kneeling before him, palms pressing firmly against his thighs. His erection is hard, straining through his suit pants, but he’s waited—waited until he knew you’d be most comfortable because that’s just who he is. 

“Look at you,” he says, running his thumb over your mouth. “Puffy lips parted and ready for me. Big fucking eyes, so innocent, so needy.”

“Only for you, Hyuck,” you breathe softly as you start undoing his belt and his jaw visibly ticks.

You’ve sucked his cock before—of course you have, and you love it. And still, he looks at you like it’s the first time, nostrils flaring, pupils dilated, as he drinks in every detail of your eagerness. He’s so hungry to feel you, to get lost in you—so feral.

Using his forefinger, he lifts your chin, forcing your chin and attention on him. “I know, baby. Only me. Always me.”

You run your tongue over your lower lip, and he tracks the entire thing, looking like some kind of predator.

“Take it out.”

You comply, dropping his pants to his ankles and tugging his boxer briefs down with them. His cock springs free, angry veins visible and the tip glistening. The sight of his straining cock right in front of you pulls this desperate sound from deep in his throat. He traces every inch of your face as if he plans to paint it soon, and you’d let him.

His palm glides over your head again, fingers weaving through your hair, cupping the back of your skull to keep you anchored in place. Rough and dominant—just how he likes it, and just how you crave it.

“I need to fuck your mouth, baby. Seeing you cum in my letterman has got me so damn hard. I need this pretty mouth,” he whimpers as his palm rests on your scalp. “You’re gonna let me do that aren’t you? Because you’re such a good fucking girl.”

You nod and squirm in anticipation, using the tip of your tongue to lick a path over his slit, savouring the salty taste from the bead of precum. His eyes instantly roll back and you grip his shaft with one hand and lick a path from root to tip.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Just like that,” he hisses between his teeth as his entire body vibrates.

You look up at him, fluttering your lashes over heavy eyes. Because the only thing Hyuck craves more than his own pleasure is the sight of yours. You round your lips, sucking him in slowly. Your head bobs as you work your tongue in sync with your lips, but he’s so big, a fact you’ll never get used to. He hits the back of your throat and you hold him there, swallowing around his tip, tears welling at the corners of your eyes as your throat tightens with a gentle choke.

"Fuck—" He lurches forward, one hand gripping the pillar for support while the other tugs at your hair, pulling you off him just long enough to catch your breath—because he's nothing if not considerate.

Hyuck runs his thumb by the corner of your eye, gathering the moisture that pooled there.

“I’m ruining your makeup,” he muses, lips curling into a smirk. “I had prom pictures planned.”

A blush creeps on your cheeks, “We don’t have to take them.”

“We’re taking them.” There’s no question in his tone. It’s simply a statement. A demand. “Then I’m keeping a copy in my wallet, so next time I’m on tour, fisting my cock, I can think about you. About this."

You nod, breath hitching. "O-okay."

"Okay." His thumb drags over your lip again, teasing until you part for him, wrapping around it. He presses down, tugging lightly. "So agreeable. So obedient. Aren’t you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

His smirk deepens. "Good. So you'll keep sucking my cock, won't you?"

You don’t even bother with words—too eager to please, too determined to finish what you started. Your fingers wrap around him, stroking once before you take him back into your mouth, sucking deep before pulling off with a lewd pop. Then you do it again, following his cues, giving him exactly what you know he loves. A slow flick of your tongue along the underside of his head, a firm squeeze as you cup his balls, and then you’re taking him to the back of your throat. His entire abdomen tenses. His breathing turns ragged.

"Fuck." His curse is sharp as he pulls back, just enough to look at you. "I’m gonna cum. You gonna let me cum in your mouth, baby?"

You nod eagerly, mascara streaking your cheeks, spit glistening at the corner of your lips. "Please, Hyuck."

His smirk is wicked. "Are you gonna be a good little girlfriend and swallow it all for me?"

You nod—far too enthusiastically.

"Good. Now, take a deep breath, baby—'cause it’s the last one you’re getting for a while."

He runs a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before guiding your head forward. Your lips part instinctively, wrapping around him as he sets the pace, fucking your mouth with a steady rhythm. His palms cover your ears, his hips roll with precision—nothing but pure pleasure as he chases his high. And you let him. You take it, let him use you because he’s done all of this for you tonight. Because he deserves his reward.

Truthfully, watching Hyuck unravel beneath you—knowing you’re the one making him this needy, this desperate to cum—is your own reward. Because seeing him lost in pure bliss is the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Your fingernails dig into his skin, leaving faint crescents as he keeps his pace—steady, deliberate—but always mindful, always making sure you can breathe. He checks in with his eyes, just like you said—considerate.

You moan around his length, hips shifting instinctively, searching for friction. And of course, Hyuck notices. He always notices.

"Are you getting turned on from sucking me off, Y/N?" he taunts, through a tight restraint breath. "So wet, even after I already made you cum." He pulls out of your mouth, gaze dark. "Show me. Show me how wet sucking my cock has made you.”

Heat prickles your skin as you reach under your dress, the one he bought, and gather your arousal on two fingers. You bring them up, letting him see the proof, the evidence of just how much you want him.

“Fuck,” he growls, as deep brown eyes turn black as they lock on your fingers. “So fucking obedient.” 

Hyuck leans in, grasping your wrist before guiding your fingers into his mouth. His tongue flicks over the tips, slow and careful, savouring the taste—the proof of how badly he’s wrecked you. Of how much you like him, love him. 

He nods toward his cock, covered in your saliva, hard and twitching, ready to cum. "Make me cum, baby. Please."

You hold his eye contact, grip his cock, and bring your mouth back to cover him. He moans, head falling back, and you work his length with your mouth and hand, doing your best to take what you can’t handle. It doesn’t take long until his hips jerk in short, sloppy movements. His breath comes out in ragged gasps, moans soft but pitched, the sound of him unravelling.

“Y/N,” he cries out your name in a whimper of desperation. One hand finds yours, holding it tenderly, while the other braces on the pillar behind you. Then, he cums—hard.

He tries to keep his eyes locked on yours, because that’s his favourite part, but the sensation overwhelms him, and he has to shut them. Every muscle in his body tightens as hot, forceful pulses hit the back of your throat.

“So pretty like this,” he pants breathlessly. “Mouth full of my cum.” The pad of his thumb traces down the line of your throat. “You’re gonna swallow it, aren’t you?”

It’s not a question, and you don’t hesitate. You swallow all of him, but it’s not enough. You need more—need him inside of you.

“Fuck me, please, Hyuck.”

He shakes his head, a teasing smile tugging at his lips and then he laughs. He uses the hand he’s had entangled with yours to pull you up to your feet, steadying you gently. “I can’t. Not here.”

You pout, disappointed, your body aching for him. “Why not?”

His smile widens as he adjusts your dress, pulling the fabric down to cover you properly, the moment feeling suddenly too sweet considering he was just fucking your throat.

“Because,” he draws out playfully, “I planned a prom, and like all cheesy teenagers, I don’t plan to fuck you here.”

You quirk a brow, crossing your arms across your body. But before you can say anything, Hyuck fumbles with his suit jacket, dropping to the floor to search the pockets. His hands hover for a second before he pulls out a room key, holding it up like some kind of trophy.

You scoff with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Very cliché.”

He grins at you. “I think we have pictures to take.”

[wcnderlnds]

the heart wants what it wants | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: he hates himself but you kinda, sorta love him. ・❥・word count: 1.3k ・❥・warnings: usual squid game stuff, swearing. ・❥・ authors note: as if i was gonna leave my boy thanos out of valentines fics. here's something a lil fluffy while still (hopefully) in character for him.

“What’re you sitting there looking like someone just pissed in your cereal for? And don’t try and tell me it’s because of that last game or whatever because I know that’s bullshit.”

Thanos’ voice pierced through your ears as he sat down beside you on the steel stairs between the bunks. His arms rested on his knees, hands dangling between his open legs as he looked at you expectantly. That was Thanos down to a tee – he needed to know everything immediately, patience wasn’t his strong suit. It frustrated him when he didn’t get answers. You had known this man for far too long to know the signs. The way he was clenching his jaw, his fingers tapping against his leg. 

“...I don’t want to tell you because you’ll laugh at me,” you mumbled, head resting on your arms that were crossed over your pulled up knees.

“Come on, spit it out,” he waved his hand, dismissing your worries. “I probably will laugh but since when did that shit bother you?”

He was right. You never cared before so why now? Well, you knew why. Being trapped in this place with him had resurfaced something you had thought you’d got rid of a long time ago. When you had first met Su-bong, you had the world’s biggest crush on him but he had turned you down, telling you that you should just be friends so… that’s what you were. Now, eight years on and that all consuming crush was back. You were trapped in a life or death game with him, he’d been protecting you and making sure that no harm fell on you. His hand grabbed yours at any opportunity like he just had to be touching you to make sure you were still here. You had never seen so much panic in his eyes than the moment you had almost fell in Red Light, Green Light. Luckily, he had managed to grab your arm to stop you from meeting your end. Su-bong wasn’t someone that wore his heart on his sleeve but when he cared, he cared. That was one thing you were certain of; he cared about you. There were ways he showed it without saying it. Like now, he had come to sit with you, asking you what was going on even if it was in his own annoying way. He had to act like he didn’t care otherwise it would consume him, his anxiety would sky rocket. That was why he was popping those colourful little pills. They may make him act insane but inside they calmed him, made him think clearer so he could protect you.

“Fine,” you sighed. “...it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just sad I’m stuck in here and not enjoying some chocolate covered strawberries fed to me by some super hot person. Happy now?”

Thanos couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, nudging you with his shoulder. “That’s why you’re feeling sorry for yourself?” He narrowed his eyes, examining you before he decided you weren’t telling him the full truth. A quick shuffle and he was sitting right beside you, his leg touching yours. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. It was unusually soft for him but he had these moments with you sometimes. The only person who wouldn’t judge him was you, that was something he knew for certain. “You ain’t tellin’ me the whole story so I’m gonna need you to get that pretty mouth of yours talking more before I go get Nam-su to come glare at you with those beady little eyes of his.”

“You know his name is Nam-gyu, right?” You rested your head on his shoulder, nervously wringing your hands together. Thanos noticed almost immediately, placing a hand on them to stop you. “Remember when we first met? When… uh, when I had a crush on you and your turned me down?”

“Yeah, how could I forget?”

“Well, I might be feeling that way again.”

At those words, he froze up. His body tense, panic flashing across his eyes. Yeah, you shouldn’t have said anything. He would only close himself off now and that was the last thing you needed right now. He had been your whole support system here. The silence between you was almost deafening until he finally spoke. “...you shouldn’t.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Wish it was that easy, Su-bong.”

“You wanna know why I turned you down all those years ago?” He had pulled away from you slightly, both his hands now resting on your shoulders as he made you look at him. “Because you fuckin’ deserve better than me. I’m a mess. I’ve always been a mess. I’m no good, especially not for you. Someone like you? You deserve the fuckin’ world and I can’t give you that. I wish I could but I can’t. You need someone who can treat you like the princess you are but, baby, that man ain’t me.”

If it wasn’t anyone else, they wouldn’t have caught the waver in his voice, the way he was looking at you as if pleading for you to listen to him. He meant every word he said but you didn’t. You knew he often got lost in his self loathing thoughts, thinking that he was scum of the Earth but he wasn’t. He was just a lost boy, someone had never had someone care about him like you.

“I don’t care, Su-bong. My heart knows what it wants and it wants you. It isn’t going to stop. It’s been eight years and it’s always felt this way. You are everything to me, you always have been. I wish you could see in yourself what I see in you,” your hand cupped his cheek, the gesture so soft he almost nuzzled into your palm but refrained. “Sure, you’re not perfect but neither am I. I’ll respect whatever you want but… just know that my heart belongs to you.”

His eyebrows scrunched together as if he was in deep thought, one of his hands playing with the chain of the necklace that hung around his neck. His cross; the one that contained his drugs. It looked like he was in an internal conflict with himself before, finally, he pulled the necklace over his head and onto you. You felt your heart pounding as his fingers skimmed across your chest, making sure the cross laid properly. “You’re a damn pain in my ass, you know that? But… I’ve been into you the day we met, just thought you deserved more than I can give you. So, this is my promise to you to show you that I trust you, that maybe I’ll try and be the person you deserve some day. Ain’t never let anyone wear this other than me, by the way.”

The gesture meant more to you than you could even put into words, your heart hammering against your chest as he tapped the cross. You smiled up at him, hand resting over his. “The highest honour, huh?” You couldn’t help but tease to at least ease some of the tension. “It means a lot… and Su-bong? I believe in you.”

You heard the small, breathy laugh that came from his lips as he looked at the ground trying to hide it. That meant more to him than you would know. Finally, he looked back up at you, his arm back around your shoulder to pull you back into his side. “We get out of this shithole and I’ll feed you all the damn chocolate strawberries you want.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

As you rested your head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on yours, you knew that once you got out of here things were definitely going to change but it gave you something to look forward to. His promise the one thing that would get you through these deathly games.

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[count-on-mi]

Twice Interactive Story Part 14 Push & Pull (Jihyo, Feat. Sana, Dahyun)

You put a penguin doll in Mina's arm before you leave quietly, you see Mina smiles again when she gets something in her arms again.

You get in your car and check your phone to see did anyone find you, Nayeon is not on the list. There are messages from Dahyun, Momo and Jihyo.

Dahyun 'Oppa, I am coming over tonight, remember pick me up!'

Jihyo 'Y/N, are you ok? I saw Nayeon cries when she back home last night, and she leaves again this morning.'

Momo 'Y/N, why would Nayeon know our relationship, you told her? She send me this' Momo's message and attached with a photo of Nayeon's selfie when you are fucking in doggy style just two nights before with a message 'Leave my boyfriend alone.'

You finally understand why she will stop moving for a while suddenly that time, she was taking photos.

I check how long ago the message from Dahyun was and respond accordingly. I tell Jihyo that things have changed and she doesn't have to worry about it. I tell Momo that I didn't tell Nayeon anything and that I just told her that I still went to you as a personal trainer. After all that I go home quickly to change.

You reply to Dahyun that you are going to pick her up tonight and reply to others accordingly.

You arrived home and see Jihyo resting on the sofa, 'Welcome back, Y/N. What happened yesterday, Nayeon leaves in the morning before I wake up.' You did not reply but immediately check your wardrobe, Nayeon did not bring her belongings back to her home, is it means there is still a chance for you?

"It’s nothing Jihyo, don't worry about it. My relationship status may have changed, so sex might be off the table now." I tell Jihyo as I poke my head out from my room. I start to pack Nayeon's clothes in a bag or suitcase before I have to pick up Dahyun.

'I'm definitely not asking for sex now, Y/N. But did Nayeon just find out that you have friends with benefits, I can feel it from her reactions. It's just like me before.' Jihyo comes in and helps you pack Nayeon's belongings.

"It was one person particularly. Nayeon sent a message to them about staying away from me. That being said that doesn't change anything with you staying here that way Daniel doesn't find you. Also my sisters are staying for a while." After I finish packing, I check the time.

Seeing still have some time left before you going to pick up Dahyun, you and Jihyo back to living room for some coffee.

Jihyo and you just chit-chat while waiting, 'I'm curious Y/N, if you have one more chance, will you still hook up with other girls and then break up with Nayeon? She's definitely not like me that can tolerate so much time.'

"There are two paths, if it's relationship over I'm just going to be single for a while. If she chooses to stay with me for some reason, I'll won't do it again. I've learned my lesson. If you don't kind my asking, why did you deal with it for so long?"

Jihyo looks at the ground when she hears your question, 'I once believed he will change for me, I innocently thought the marriage could make him tied to me, but I was wrong.'

'So you and Nayeon have officially broken up? Maybe we two injured souls can try to be together?' Jihyo teases you.

I chuckle before looking away "I don't know if we are broken up, if we are I wouldn't mind trying with you. But would you really be willing to try again with someone like me?"

'You know you are playboy too huh, Y/N?' Jihyo spanks your shoulder and giggles. 'I don't know, my heart always comes before my mind. But I guess I have a lot of competitors, your colleague, your friend with benefits, and also your little secretary. Mina is so obvious you know?'

"Mina does make it obvious, she'd be your biggest challenge. She's always so helpful and willing to put me first. She should really find someone better." I say with a laugh.

'Maybe She thinks you are the best for her.' Jihyo smirks and looks at the clock, '30 minutes before you got to go, a quick one?' Jihyo comes closer to you and sits on your lap.

"I don't know, what if Nayeon comes back?"

'OK, so you gonna abstinence until you know the results? Can you do it, haha? Jihyo catches your cock before she backs to her room, 'I will miss you, big guy.'

'Hey, Y/N, better finish dinner with your sister before coming back, don't wanna act like your new girlfriend when we first meet, so awkward.'

"Yeah, I will." I walk out of the apartment and head to my car to get to the airport early.

You waiting for Dahyun at the terminal while playing your phone, and you receive Momo's message that she wants to see you tonight. When you wanna reply to her, you see Dahyun rushing to you, 'Oppa!'

'Hey, Dubu, still so tiny huh.' 'Yah, Oppa.' Dahyun wants to hit your head but she's too short to reach it, so she just hit your chest.'

'Where is Nayeon eooni, I thought she is with you already.' Dahyun turns around and try to search for Nayeon.

"She won't be around Dahyun. Let's get you something to eat. What do you want to eat?" I ask to distract her.

You help Dahyun get the suitcase and guide her to your car. 'I miss the food you cook, Oppa. How about you cook for me.'

Remember what Jihyo told you, you only can reject Dahyun's request. 'Sorry, Dubu, not many ingredients left at home, maybe next time? We will just casually eat tonight.'

'Ok... I forgot how long did we last meet each other, you are much thinner, so much stress on work?'

'Nah, Dubu, just as usual, I'm fine. Did you start finding jobs, you have graduated for half a year already.'

'Ummm, I am trying, just give me sometime, oppa. I am working on it.'

"Ah Dubu, you need to look harder. And if you don't choose a place to eat I'll choose." I say as I start driving.

You drive to a random restaurant and have dinner with Dahyun, you two talk about all the things that happened from last time you meet.

'OH, Oppa, I guess I don't need to share a room with Chaeyoung, right? if Nayeon eooni is not here.' Dahyun smirks.

Your home has 3 rooms, usually, Chaeyoung and Dahyun need to sleep together when Nayeon is staying, as you don't want to cause any embarrassment to your sisters, although Nayeon is not here, now Jihyo has occupied 1 of them, maybe it's time that you should tell Dahyun you have a guest.

I explain to Dahyun the situation Jihyo is going through and that she will have to share a room with Chaeyoung.

'OH, come on, Oppa, I have expected I can have my own room at your home.' Dahyun shows a sad face. You caress Dahyun's head, 'Dubu is a good girl, right? You should understand what situation Jihyo is facing, you won't be happy too right?  And you can occupy the room until Chae arrives, don't be sad!'

'Yes, but does Nayeon eooni knows you bring a girl home?' You are a little bit frustrated that Dahyun is keep mentioning Nayeon.

"Dahyun, Nayeon and I are going through a rough patch right now. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention her." We finish the meals and begin our ride home.

Dahyun's emotions are hard to describe, but you can catch her happiness before it disappears when she hear Nayeon and you have some arguments. You two did not talk about Nayeon again through the dinner.

You two finished the dinner and ready to back home. 'Oppa, what if we buy some snacks and watch movie together tonight?' In the meantime, you remember Momo wants to see you tonight either.

I quickly send Momo a message and ask if we could meet another time for the reason that I'm picking up Dahyun from the airport.

'Y/N, I am just so afraid that why Nayeon will know what happens, if you can't come today, how about tomorrow.' Momo replies immediately. You then drive to some snacks before back to home.

Jihyo is sitting on the sofa again when you arrive, 'OH hi Y/N, and little sister, your brother should have mentioned about me, Nice to meet you, sorry for disturbing your family day.'

I send Momo another message to say I'll meet her tomorrow, then I introduce Dahyun to Jihyo. I ask Dahyun "Dahyun would it be alright if Jihyo joined us for the movie?"

'Sure Oppa, your friend is my friend too.' Then you three sit on the sofa and start watching the movie.

You sit between Jihyo and Dahyun, each of you covering a blanket or pillow while enjoying the movie. You suddenly feel Jihyo 's chest pressing on your arm, you turn around to check Dahyun, she is too focusing on the movie and not paying attention to you.

Jihyo put a finger on her lips, tell you to keep quiet, and start caressing your cock under the blanket.

I keep quiet recognizing that if I said anything it would give it all away.

Jihyo is happy that you are so obedience and not making any noise, she put your hands into your pants and start stroking you slowly.

Seeing your body shivers from the sensation, Jihyo blows hot winds into your ear and whispers to you, 'You seems so excited when I am stroking you next to your baby sister, enjoying it?'

I whisper back "stop it, you're going to get us in trouble."

'Relax, Y/N. Let me handle it, Dahyun won't know what's happening, she loves the movie so much.' Jihyo starts stroking you faster.

You try your best to not release any moans, but Jihyo's hand is really good, and you wanna cum. Jihyo feels your cock pulsing in her hands, 'Cum for me, I am ready.' Jihyo then kisses you to cover your moan.

I cum in Jihyo’s hand, I'm grateful for the kiss as I'd otherwise release a huge moan. Once we break it off, I whisper to her "I'm going to get you back for this."

'Wow so many, you are really so excited, don't you?' Jihyo pulls out her hand and start licking it. 'You know where to find me if you want to thank me.' Jihyo whispers again before she moves to bathroom to clean her hands.

You notice Dahyun is still focusing on the movie and doesn't know Jihyo has left for bathroom.

As much as I want to get Jihyo back at this moment, I keep myself in my seat for a time before going to the bathroom.

You wait for Jihyo's return before you go to the bathroom to tidy up yourself, Dahyun finally out of her concentration and wanna sit closer to you.

'Oppa, that part is so good, isn't it? The tension is so strong.' Dahyun tries to talk about the film, but actually you are totally into Jihyo's handjob at that moment, so you could just simply answer her yes.

'Oppa, the smell is so strange suddenly, what is it?' Dahyun turning around to check what smelling strange in the living room.

"I'm not sure, did you fart Dahyun?" I joke to her, as I make sure she shouldn't see anything.

'Ya, Oppa!' Dahyun spanks you and then move back to her seat. You just giggle and start watching the movie. Finally, Jihyo has come out from the bathroom, you rush inside immediately before Dahyun could find out anything.

The rest of the night just spend normally, all of you are going to bed after movie has ended. You see Jihyo winks at you before she enters her room.

I help Dahyun get set up in her room before going back to my own.

You help Dahyun unpack her luggage, and you see some formal dressing in her suitcase, Dahyun pushes you out before you ask any questions. 'Now get out, let my enjoy my own room.'

'Aren't you have whole of the house when Chae is living in dorm, huh?'

'That's different, Oppa. Goodnight.'

You go back to your room, laying on your bed, ready to end the day. Your phone buzzes, and it's Sana message.

'I heard you have some fun with Mina alone today huh? On sick leave together and she applies it for you. The office is talking about you two again, I wish I was there too.' Sana attached a photo of her opening her clits for you.

"I was hungover from the night before Sana. I was in no condition to come in." After I respond, I just lay back and relax for a minute.

'Oh, sex after drunk? I wanna try with you too.' Sana attaches a video this time, a self cam in a high angle, she is not wearing bra in the pajamas, you can see her nipples clearly while she is playing with her tits.

"Sana just get some sleep." I delete the conversation logs after keeping things safe for myself.

'It's Friday night, why can't I have some fun before I sleep?' Sana sends you another video where she is sucking her finger while looking at the camera seductively.

You back up the video to the locked folder and prepare to clear the message log again, Sana's text comes again, 'Maybe we can try phone sex tonight? If Mina or your girlfriend is not beside you😏😏'

"Not interested Sana. You enjoy yourself." I respond before I head to the kitchen to make myself a snack.

You head to Kitchen and grab some chocolate for night snacks, you check your conversation logs with Nayeon, she still hasn’t online since last night.

You sigh and return to your room, you see Jihyo slightly opens the door of her room, enough for you to peek inside.

I look at the door debating if I should go, but first I check on Dahyun. Putting my ear to her door to see if she's awake or not.

You hear no sound from Dahyun's room, she should be asleep already. You back to the corridor and your phone buzzes again, It's Sana again.

This time the video is she masturbating with a dildo and moaning your name, 'having a dildo in my pussy, but it's nothing when comparing with you.'

"Sana, nothing is going to compare to me" and then emoji with the tongue sticking out is what I respond with. I put my phone to vibrate only and then I head back to Jihyo’s room.

You slowly enter Jihyo's room and lock the door. Jihyo is sleeping on her bed, with a sexy lace pajamas, you can see her got body inside the pajamas. You don't understand why Daniel would still hook up with others even he has a such needy and hot wife at home.

I get beside Jihyo and pull down her pajama bottoms before I start teasing her pussy. I get my other hand ready to cover her mouth, so she doesn't make noise.

Jihyo wakes up from your assault, she grabs your hand on her mouth in her pajamas to play with her tits and turns around to make out with you. You can see the lust burning in her eyes, seems she is really needy as her husband ignores her for a long time.

"Seems like you really want this Jihyo." I say as my fingers go under her panties and inside if her.

'Stop teasing me, Y/N! Put it In!' Jihyo bites your lips and row over you, wanting to ride you.

Her tits keep bouncing as she breathes heavily, you put your hand on it and start playing with it.

I roll her over so I'm on top again. Covering her mouth again, and thrusting my fingers into her pussy. "Oh no, Jihyo. You teased me earlier, it's my turn."

Jihyo's tits till bouncing, her body twists due to the sensation, 'Ah, faster Y/N, please put it in. At least I let you cum.' Jihyo starts to moan louder to contest your teasing.

"Don't worry I'll let you cum." I say as I kiss her. "Get any louder and I'll stop right now." I continue kissing Jihyo to make her be quiet.

Jihyo cannot hide her moan so she just grab your head to kiss harder, you are feeling her become tighter, you thrust your finger faster until she reaches her orgasm.

'Ummm....' Jihyo moans in your mouth when she reaches her orgasm, you finally let go of her lips and let her catch her breath, but still slowly thrust your finger in her pussy.

Her bouncing tits are so eye-catching, so you just can't wait to suck her nipples.

As much as I want to continue this I continue, i pull my fingers out and have Jihyo suck them clean before I leave.

You let Jihyo clean your fingers before you leave, 'What? That's all?' Jihyo looks in disbelief when she sees you leaving her room.

"Yep, I just wanted to get back at you." I walk back over to her, rub her pussy again. "Don't you worry, I'll make sure to fill you up next time." I kiss her cheek and then leave.

'I wear this pajama for you, Y/N. Even Daniel hasn't seen me wearing it.' Jihyo said with a sad face. You comeback and give her one more kiss and leave eventually.

You back to your room and finally start to sleep, it's already midnight. You think about tomorrow's date with Momo before you fall asleep.

I'll wake the next morning well rested and ready for the day.

[604to647]

Crawling Back to You (Dieter’s Version)

3.7K / Dieter Bravo x fem!reader

Summary: A moment of weakness could lead to lifetime of regret unless Dieter can set things right with you.

Warnings: Angst, pining. Mention of drug use. Reader has a purposefully vague production/behind the scenes job because I don't know anything about movie production. Eventual HEA. One Friends reference - see if you can find it 😉

A/N: This was written for @happypedrohours’ Bouquets of Pedro Challenge. My Valentine’s prompt for Dieter was PDA. I’ve never written for Dieter before! I know he’s a chaos gremlin (affectionate), but I really like fics I read of him where he just wants to be loved? So, that's the Dieter that I wrote - I hope it's okay 🥹 (Sorry if he’s too OOC 😭) Musical inspiration is Hozier's cover of Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know."

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Many thanks to @morallyinept for your character and dialogue database to help me try and get into a Bravo state of mind 😘

He considers doing something big and splashy, of course.  And public - very, very public.  Afterall, not being P with his DAs had been what tore the two of you apart. 

Well, part of it, anyways.

Double-paged feature in Variety.  Highway billboards with matching ads on the side of buses.  Live poetry reading on the big screens in Time Square.

But all of that would be very old Dieter Bravo of him and he was no longer that man - in large part because of you, for you.

Dieter had met you many, many moons ago.  Always a friendly face on whatever set or industry event it was where you might cross paths, the two of you had gone from familiar acquaintances, to friends, to someone the other actively sought out for good company or shelter when the bright lights got too hot, the clamouring crowds too loud.

When you first met, Dieter thought you must be an actress - you were too beautiful, too captivating not to be onscreen.  But while you did have a few extra credits to your name, he soon learned that your ambition lay behind the camera.  He remembers the first time he heard your melodic voice ring out across set - like a drunken sailor to a siren’s call, he followed it without question in a semi lucid state (Hey! What’s a little marijuana between a movie star and the teamsters?).  But upon the lifting of his fog, Dieter found not his destruction, but salvation: a sympathetic ally on set, someone with whom he could be a team – a calm in the chaotic storm that was most movie productions,

You worked hard at learning and mastering your trade, and your keen eye and intuitive sense for movie making sang your merits louder than that hypnotic voice of yours that first drew Dieter (and others) to you; that you were easy to get along with and impossible to say no to was no small feat in this business – especially for a woman.  Dieter watched as you dogged forward, paying your dues and solidifying your reputation and resume – whenever he hears your name being bantered about behind the doors of Hollywood’s most coveted meetings, he feels only excessive pride.  He would tell you himself if you were speaking to him. 

Dieter still remembers the night when the two of you crossed that unspoken line for the first time; even now he’s not sure what he would have done if Cupid hadn’t been on his side.  There had been some studio gala, nothing special – or so he thought.  Slipping away from the endless shmoozing and sycophantic hoards that tend to overrun these gatherings, Dieter escaped through the catering entrance in search of some obliging venue service staff (Hollywood hot tip: the wait staff always have the best drugs!).  Instead, he had found you - sitting on a table pushed to the side of the corridor, fancy ballgown fanned out, eating popsicles, legs swinging without a care in the world.

“Dieter!” your cheer was infectious, your smile mischievous and joyful, “I didn’t care for any of those tiny finger desserts they had going out on the trays so I asked the wait staff what they kept in the back for dessert and they gave me a whole box!”  His search for extracurriculars forgotten, Dieter happily joined you, choosing instead to get drunk on your pretty face, happy chatter, and the completely innocent yet salacious way your mouth worked that frozen treat.

About three popsicles in (each) the icy desserts began melting – you managed to save yourself and finish yours just in time, but Dieter’s blue-raspberry concoction was rapidly disintegrating and about to make a guaranteed mess of his dress pants when your hands darted out, catching the slush midair.

Dieter cackled, marveling at your wide-eyed expression and hands, now wet, sticky and blue, “What did you do that for?”

“I don’t know," you crowed, eyes crinkling, still holding your cupped hands out in front of you, "I just didn’t want them to make some kind of 'blue balls' joke about you and your stained crotch in the tabloids tomorrow!”

He clasped his clean hand in yours, adhering himself to you in more ways than one - the two of you giggling and giddy as you re-entered the ballroom.  After finding a free table, some clean napkins and a pitcher of water, you sat as Dieter lovingly washed and cleaned your hands so that they wouldn’t be stained with Blue Dye #1.  He was on his knees, drying and holding your small delicate hands in his much rougher, clumsier ones, when he happened to look up to see you gazing adoringly down at him, eyes grateful and looking at him like he was hanging the moon for you.

Dieter lifted up and unable to help himself, connected his lips to yours – hoping against hope that he wasn’t ruining one of the few precious, genuine connections in his life.  His relief was soon overtaken by desire when you kissed him back – the two of you somehow managing to make your way back to the service hallways, lips crashing together over and over like unstoppable waves of an inevitable ocean.  The kisses were sensual and messy, pure and happy – it made Dieter feel like a teenager again. 

“Is this weird?” he whispered at one point - vulnerable, no bravado.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” you breathed, though your voice was soft, your touch reassuring, “but don’t stop.”  So, he didn’t.  He kissed your lips swollen, pressing you up against the wall and succumbing to the intoxication of your pretty noises and tender affection. 

Nothing else happened that night, and in fact, you had run away!  After getting a text that your friend was currently giving birth, you rushed off to the hospital like Cinderella, ballgown skirts gathered in your careful hands while darting away in the night.  Dieter, dazed and higher than he’s even felt, caught the kiss you blew him, and while pressing it to his slackened, blissed out face, vowed to become your Prince Charming.

He found you on set the following Monday and for the first time in a long time, Dieter Bravo, famously chill Cool Dude™ had felt shy, nervous.  He needn’t have been – you responded to his earnestness with sweet generosity, only ever honest and non-pretentious; it was clear that for the both of you, there was no going back to just friends. 

The rest as they say, was history. 

Except being with you felt completely new to Dieter – for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he looked forward to waking up to the start of each day, genuinely excited for its possibilities, and even more to coming home every night, grateful for the newfound comfort of life’s simple pleasures.

Grateful, yes.  If there was one thing Dieter wishes he could tell you it’s how grateful he is for you.  While you were blazing your own path to success, you had also helped him redefine his - believing in and supporting the seemingly unflappable Dieter Bravo when he admitted to wanting more.  Hollywood’s unbothered bro, Tinseltown’s perpetually aflame trainwreck darling was capable of and itching for growth, who knew?  You did.

You read scripts with him and talked through his needs and ambitions; finally having a sounding board with no self-serving stake in the financial success of his career choices, Dieter began choosing increasingly more varied and interesting projects with your encouragement and support.  He’s happier now, more fulfilled, challenged, engaged.

And he got sober (Well, he still drinks, but that doesn’t really count, right?  It’s Hollywood).  Detox had been a fucking nightmare but Dieter likes the voices in his head now.  They’re gentler with him, more forgiving, thoughtful.  They sound like you.

Dieter loved you so much, he wanted to climb to the top of the Hollywood sign and shout it all the way across the Pacific; he thought a love such as yours was limitless.

His publicists discouraged it.  The world loved the Dieter they knew: eccentric, sex-crazed, tabloid staple, a spectacle.  They weren’t interested in another middle-aged actor trying too hard to be taken seriously, who had seemingly left his wild days behind for a boring, stable relationship with a non-celebrity.  The public wanted ✨salaciousness✨glitz✨scandal✨.

You had gone along with keeping your relationship hidden, valuing your privacy and preferring to keep the sacredness of your love for one another only.  “I love you, Dieter,” you vowed, “I don’t need everyone to know it, but I don’t ever want to feel like your dirty little secret, okay?”

He promised you without really understanding what that meant.

Your relationship blossomed behind closed doors.  Both of you walked red carpets alone, careful not to get papped together, and on sets, remained cordial and professional until you got behind Dieter’s closed trailer doors where his affection for you knew no bounds, even when contained.  You would tell each other that your love wasn’t a secret, it was private, protected and kept safe from the prying and critical eyes of the public.

When his PR team arranged a fake relationship with the young and upcoming nepo baby starlet with whom he acted opposite in his latest movie as a means to promote the film, Dieter had reservations.  But he hadn’t said no. 

And after several long and serious conversations with his management about his fading relevancy and the exposure that the arrangement would net him, the starlet, the film, Dieter eventually relented and agreed to go along with it.  It seems that fame was the one drug that he hadn’t quite kicked. 

Dieter will never forget the look on your face when he brought up the PR campaign – the way your eyes crinkled in disappointment and the curve of your pretty lips pulling down your entire face haunts him every night. 

“What happens to your real girlfriend when you’re out with your fake girlfriend, Dieter?”

He couldn’t even bring himself to ask you to wait, or stay by his side, but hidden.  It was beneath you, insulting.  And to ask was to break his promise.

Turns out he didn’t even need to ask for you to feel the full weight of his betrayal.

The last words he ever spoke to you had been uttered pathetically to the front door you shut in his face, “Baby, maybe I can fix it.  Let me try.”  Their only registered response was the sound of your sobs getting softer and softer as you walked away, shutting the doors in the house he could no longer call home.

He hadn’t been able to fix it.  By design, Hollywood’s PR machine is a force, the joint efforts of Dieter and the starlet’s teams a runaway train.  Their “relationship” had been Page Six news before Dieter even had the chance to call his publicist to say that he couldn’t go through with it.  The public ate it all up just as predicted:

Dieter Bravo, Hollywood Chaos Prince back at it again, charming and capturing the heart of Tinseltown’s newest princess.

His mind swims of you.  During every press tour interview he does with his pretend girlfriend, Dieter cringes at the fake touches and gestures of affection choreographed for the cameras; all the scripted flirting and empty terms of endearment taste like acid on his tongue (and not the good kind either).  But none of this compares to the shame he feels at having hurt you, the owner of his heart, and that he likely continues to do so with every orchestrated date night photo-op for TMZ, every “happy couple” glambot he poses for on the red carpet.

Dieter finally sees you again six months into his fake relationship.

At the MTV Movie Awards, he’s waiting for the starlet to finish her solo shots, rubbing his temple at the too bright lights, the garish and loud décor, the music that doesn’t even sound like music, when he sees you stroll in on the arm of a man he doesn’t recognize.  But Dieter couldn’t care less who the man is - it’s you he can’t look away from; you’re laughing, radiant, soft.  Unchanged.  Ethereal. 

Dieter thinks he might vomit.  He thinks he might need to do a line.  He can’t let you see him.

Without excusing himself, Dieter leaves the red carpet and locks himself in a bathroom, trying to push down his bubbling panic attack.  He knows his “girlfriend” is probably beside herself, and that his unexplained absence is likely giving rise to new rumours and speculation that he’s on some kind of drug-fuelled spiral, but he can’t bring himself to come out.

Someone slips a KitKat under the door of the bathroom. 

Dieter knows it’s you; only you would be so subtle, so gentle, so reassuring with one simple gesture.  Only you know him and what brings him the most comfort.  He picks up the chocolate bar and stares at it for a while before biting into it, thinking about how he got himself into this mess.

A moment weakness.  A lifetime of regret.

Not if Dieter could help it.

He “breaks up” with the starlet the following week; it would have been handled even sooner if he didn’t have to fight and threaten to fire his entire team, eventually dragging in Legal to help him break the marketing contract he had unknowingly signed in blood.

Immediately Dieter starts planning how he will make things up to you, beg for another chance – apologize; drafting and discarding every over-the-top gesture that pops into his buzzing mind, each more theatrical and outlandish than the last.

He finally settles on a letter – one that Dieter can’t stop writing after he starts and ends up being eighteen pages (front and back).  It begins with an apology – for having hurt you so callously, for breaking his promise to you, and for, even if only a second, ever making you feel like you weren’t important or enough.  Especially when it was his own bruised ego that had needed the stroking – this entire disaster a result of his own weakness, born from a dark place inside where he had been made small by an industry that thrived on the insecurities of its so-called stars, and Dieter’s fear of feeling even smaller.  You made him feel so good while the two of you had been together, he naively thought that your light had eradicated all such voids and pits within him – but it was unfair to heap the responsibility of his growth and self improvement onto you.  And though he knows that he still has work to do, he credits your influence and compassion for the progress he’s made so far.  Around page six of the letter Dieter’s Sorrys transition into Thank Yous. 

Dieter thanks you for every way you’ve made him a better man, made him want to be a better man.  He thanks you for all the times your unparalleled support, kindness, and generosity have gotten him through the day on set, or through his self doubts at night.  Words of gratitude overflow from his pen, pouring out nearly faster than he can write – you, you, you.  He’s thankful for you.

And he misses you.  And not just all the ways you meshed your gentle life with the squishy bits of his, but just you.  Your sweet laugh.  The crinkle of your nose and the watering of your eyes at his farts sarcastic jokes.  And your mouth.  Great Paul Newman, he’s always been obsessed with your mouth – and not just what he knows it can do and how it tastes, but everything that comes out of it.  Dieter could listen to you talk about anything for hours – he might not know a single thing about what you’re talking about, but he understands eloquence, passion, and the artistry of words when he hears it.  Having spent most of his adult life around industry blowhards, Dieter knows that intelligence without pretension is a rarity - fresh air that he longs to breathe in again. 

On page twelve, Dieter tells you he loves you - loves you for everything you are and what you stand for.  He loves how you’ve remained gentle, even though the business of show makes it its mission to sharpen everyone and everything it swallows.  He loves that your default is always thoughtfulness and compassion, that you embody a quiet type of beauty that doesn’t need to be paraded about or loudly lauded in order to shine.  How do you make even the mundane so fascinating?  It must be that confident grace of yours.  Dieter writes an entire two pages on how he just wants to watch you wash dishes again – he tries to describe the meditative calm that comes just from seeing the soapy water bow to your whim, as if it knows the power and majesty of its bender; understanding as he does now the magnanimity it takes to ensure that no small movement is wasted, to make every action purposeful.  He’s enraptured by you.  Admires you. Worships you.  So, so in love with you.

He reads the letter over a hundred times before tying the folded pages together with a bright red bow.  Using his Bravo charm, Dieter sneaks onto the set of your latest movie and leaves it in your trailer on top of a jewelry box that holds an ostentatiously luxurious diamond necklace he bought you before everything had gone to hell.  He had kept it all this time, unable to bring himself to return it, never even considering giving it to anyone but you.

Three weeks pass and Dieter hears nothing back.

He had tried to prepare himself for this possibility – that perhaps you might never forgive him, want nothing more to do with him, but still, it’s with a heavier than expected heart that he gets ready for his movie premiere, the very same film he’d promoted with his fake relationship.  Dieter didn’t expect any drama at the event – he and the starlet spoke last week and agreed that arriving separately but acting like friends was the best way to quell the outrageous reasons for the “breakup” speculated in the gossip rags.  In truth, even though they had grown to become actual friends during the meshugana of the last few months, Dieter can’t help but associate this entire project with his own regret and shame - he can’t wait for this evening to be over.

He goes through the motions of the red carpet.  Greeting his co-stars with boisterous cheers and hard gripping handshakes.  Hitting his marks and smiling almost manically for the cameras.  Waving to the fans and signing every piece of paper shoved towards him (this part he really did not mind; you always said that his fans were the best and they are).  Doing his time in the interview pit.  When he’s near the end of the gauntlet, with only the Entertainment Tonight interview to get through before he can (blessedly) retreat to his seat in the theatre, a vivid glimmer of brilliance catches Dieter’s eye.  Unlike the near blinding flash of a photographer’s camera, this sparkle beckons him, brightly winking – he almost puts up a hand to shield his eyes before he realizes what it is.

It's you.

You’re at his premiere.  Gorgeous, breathtaking, elegant – you’re walking down the arrivals promenade… and you’re wearing the diamond necklace Dieter left with your letter.  Inadvertently tuning out the ET interviewer, he stares, awestruck, mouth agape – hopeful.  The interviewer can’t help but follow Dieter’s gaze and asks him who you are. 

“An angel,” he answers honestly.

At that same moment, you finally spot him and your face breaks into a big smile, the luminosity of which nearly drops Dieter to his knees.  Instead, he breaks out into a sprint, running towards you. 

When you see what he’s doing, you pick up your skirts and start moving towards him as well.  Dieter dodges and weaves between the bodies on the red carpet, trying not to slam into any of the people that stand between him and his everything, only vaguely aware of the Entertainment Tonight interviewer and her cameraman hot on his heels.

Suddenly, the crowd seems to part and there’s a clearing right where the two of you finally meet, stopping only inches from one another.  Dieter’s panting (fuck, he’s out of shape!) but grinning like a fool when you drop the fabric of your dress to bring your hands come up to cup his face, thumbs running lovingly over his unkempt scruff – a familiar gesture that feels better than any high he’s ever experienced.  Your face is flushed bright and content, home.

“You got my letter.”

“I did.”

“You’re wearing the necklace.”

“I am.”  Your eyes twinkle, complimenting the serenity and invitation of your countenance - both saying everything without even a word.  It gives Dieter the boost of confidence he needs.

“May I kiss you?”

“Even though we’re in public?” You’re being cheeky on purpose.

But for once Dieter won’t play - there is nothing except sincerity in his response, “From now on, only ever in public.  No more hiding.”

An orchestral movie score heard only by the two of you swells as you both move to close the remaining distance between your bodies, crushing your mouths together.  The kiss is passionate, deep and heated – leaving no doubt of your feelings for one another; not even the gawking onlookers can deny what you mean to each other.  Camera bulbs pop and bright lights flash all around as your lips settle and mold in a tender slow dance, loathed to be parted ever again.  Your hands card through Dieter’s soft curls, delicate fingers cradling his head soothingly, warm; his hands spread wide to cover your back, covetous and protective.

“No more hiding,” you whisper, face lit with joy at the adoration and promise reflected in Dieter’s mirrored expression.

He nods and tightens his arm around your waist, love and resolution coursing through his veins.  Sharing one last private look, the two of you turn in unison, a team, towards the awestruck Entertainment Tonight interviewer whose microphone is practically shaking with excitement.  Dieter beams his megawatt Bravo smile at her, “Is this what the kids call a hard launch?”

🎶Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know" lyrics (Hozier's version):

Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through Crawlin' back to you 🎶

[wrioreid]

| Valentine's Day | spencer reid x reader

You and Spencer have plans to celebrate your first Valentine's Day together.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst?, indefinite season, some references to the series, without a definite pronoun I think?, lots of rambling.

Author's note: Hello, happy Valentine's Day! The day is literally over, but I only managed to post now :c I really wanted to write something involving my pookie and rewatching some episodes I had some ideas to put in the fanfic. Sorry if any part was confusing or doesn't make sense, I swear I tried!! Anyway, I hope it's fun to read!

The simple drops of icy water that fell calmly from the tree branches contrasted completely with the warm feeling emanating from the couples walking around there. Couples, lovers, families, friends. The street was full of people who were overflowing with love for each other, and you watched them solemnly while leaning your back against the icy wall of some random store. Not even a morning of persistent rain and unpleasantly below-par temperatures could spoil the romantic atmosphere and prevent people from loving each other.

It was February 14th, Valentine's Day. Or rather, your first Valentine's Day with someone. It was late afternoon and the rain had stopped, leaving only small drops of water as a reminder. The temperature continued, but nothing that good layers of clothing and a warm love couldn't solve.

You were waiting for Spencer. You had started dating the previous year, after February, so this was the first time you would celebrate this day together. In fact, neither of them cared about the date. You could even hear his skeptical voice again, talking about how this celebration made no sense and that it stopped being a proof of unconditional love a long time ago. On the other hand, you had never cared about the date because you had never had someone special enough to show that you were still made of love. Now that you had someone, you wanted to make the date unique.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile, remembering how Spencer looked when you answered him saying that you had the desire to experience the magic of the day at least once. Not shocked, not surprised, but hopeful. The “Me too” that he whispered uncertainly like a secret being eternally kept in your mind. After that day, you started planning how you would spend the celebration, the millions of colored papers full of ideas - and dreams - scattered on the floor of his house being a warm memory in your mind.

But even though the plans were set a few good weeks ago, you - and neither he - could control your nervousness when today finally arrived. Even when you were walking together a few hours ago - him accompanying you to your house as he always did at least once a week - you couldn't hold a decent conversation. There was barely a goodbye, just you running inside the house to get ready and him running to his house to do the same. Now there you were, playing with a small puddle of water in front of you with the boot you had specially chosen while you waited for Spencer to arrive.

It wasn't like him to be late at all, and it was starting to get difficult to control your anxiety. Maybe he gave up. Maybe he realized it was something silly and irrational to celebrate. There were millions of thoughts battling against the small memory of the genuine smile he let out every time he read the post-its with the ideas for the long-awaited day.

Despite his confession when the subject came up, you had never actually talked about Valentine's Day before, much less if he had ever celebrated it. You knew that Spencer had already been in relationships with a few other people before, but you deduced that he had never celebrated the day, probably because he let reason take over, as always. However, deep down, you couldn't help but think that it was because he never allowed himself to celebrate, the idea that he was incapable of being loved rooted in his mind.

You felt pain in your heart, almost like a heart attack, when your relationship grew deeper and you would notice with each encounter these small - big - scratches that he had on his soul. Someone who would like to be seen as normal, to be perceived as someone capable of loving and being loved.

So, you take a deep breath and let the bad thoughts go away. Deep down, this is also his wish, and you accept this fact. You push yourself away from the wall, determined to find a better and more visible spot to make it easier for him. However, you didn't count on finding him standing in front of you when you stopped looking at the floor. And damn, he looked stunning.

His soft and tidy hair, his untidy white t-shirt, the wine-colored cardigan on top showing off his crooked black tie, his slightly wrinkled dress pants quickly revealing the pair of mismatched socks. All of this being soaked up by the dark gray overcoat and the purple scarf. There was literally nothing different about his style, but at the same time there was everything. Maybe it wasn't anything different physically, but whatever it was, was enough to make the thoughts that tormented you before seem like nothing more than a small fraction of an unknown nightmare now.

Spencer clears his throat, trying to bring your attention back to the real world. You can't tell if he's blushing because of the cold or because he's been stared at so intensely, but either way, it's cute. "Sorry I'm late," he says quietly, even though no one else can hear.

"It's okay, we'll still be a few minutes early." You smile playfully and awkwardly stand next to him, ready to go to the first attraction of the day. After millions of desires were buried by a job that took up too much of your time, the final decision was a traditional Valentine's Day schedule so that you could enjoy all the romantic experiences that couples usually have - as much as possible. The first stop would be at a small local theater to watch Romeo and Juliet. Afterwards, you would enjoy a beautiful romantic dinner at a special place, and by that you mean that you would have dinner at Spencer's house. And then, he would walk you home. It sounds simple, but it was more than perfect.

Despite your movement, Reid doesn't move. He looks at you with a tight-lipped smile as he unrolls a black and white fabric from his messenger bag. You hadn't realized it was there and before you know it, he's lovingly wrapping the scarf around your neck.

"I knew you'd forget," he whispers, smiling like a child who's been naughty. You use the scarf as a shield to hide your flushed cheeks, starting to walk quickly after whispering a thank you. The smell of freshly washed clothes with a hint of fresh vanilla is the only thing you can smell now, intoxicating you like a drink.

However, it's not enough to make you not notice the awkward silence between you. You've known each other for a long time and talk a lot, but the idea of ​​something new, a unique - and secret, in a way - celebration between the two of you was too much for both. You snuggle even closer into the scarf and slide your hand closer to his, your pinkies touching. You notice him looking at you from the corner of his eye, a look full of secrets for the others, but not for you. Calmly, he intertwines his fingers with yours, you now walking hand in hand and both of you smiling foolishly behind the scarf.

The play's performance was interesting, but it was hard to concentrate on it while Spencer made several dissatisfied expressions beside you. "It's almost revolting how a play about young love, family rivalry and lack of communication turned into a mere sad story about love at first sight. And I haven't even talked about the imaginary balcony yet!" It was the last thing he said after you left the theater and started walking towards his apartment, distractedly engaging in other matters.

“You can’t deny it, Spence,” you laugh out loud, smiling at his pouting face. “Love moves worlds!”

“It changes realities, that’s what it does,” he mutters, looking irritated, but a playful smile plays on his lips. “A tribute to a bishop who went against an emperor turned into a celebration of love with an exchange of gifts and declarations just because they decided to combine love and romance! And it makes much more sense for the celebration to exist because this is the first day of mating for birds. It’s the order of life!”

“Of course, it makes much more sense for men to leave love messages on their loved ones’ doors because the birds are procreating,” you giggle. “I think I’m talking to the reincarnation of Claudius II and I didn’t know it.” You joke, having even more fun when you notice Spencer pondering his words for a few moments, a furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Technically, men who have nothing to lose are better at war than those who have love,” he pauses, now speaking again with a mischievous smile, “For example, I worked much better before I met you.”

You stop walking, shock written all over your face as you stare at him in disbelief. Spencer laughs, stretching one of his hands to intertwine them. He gently kisses the top of your hand. “Contrary to statistics and facts, I have been working better since we met and you know that very well,” he whispers, still with your hand close to his mouth, his lips brushing against your skin with each movement. You turn your face away, still angry, but taking the opportunity to control the immense urge to kiss him.

However, the whole act ends when you feel something different in your hand - the same one he was holding until just now. You turn your head quickly only to notice the beautiful red rose that magically rested in your hand, its scent so present that even from that distance you could smell it. Paralyzed, you stare at Spencer, mouth open, not knowing what to do. He stares back at you with a smile from ear to ear, his nose red from the cold.

“As someone told me the other day,” he says calmly and amusedly, “It’s worth ignoring the hype, the advertising and the high prices for someone special.”

You can barely react. Twirling the rose between your thumb and index finger, the only thing you can do is control the tears that are welling up in your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve received a flower so full of feelings from someone. A single, simple flower, but it was worth more than an entire field. Spencer calmly waits for you to recover, tenderness sparkling in his eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” you manage to whisper, hugging the flower gently so as not to ruin it or hurt yourself, despite your clothes. “H-How? Since when?”

He shrugs, reaching for your hand again and intertwining it with his, putting both in the pocket of his overcoat as he walks on again. “A magician doesn’t reveal his secrets… and he always has tricks up his sleeve.” He lets a sentence hang in the air, more mysterious than it should be. You stare at him, waiting for him to continue, but you only get a pat on the hand.

The rest of the way was calm and quiet, but comfortable enough for you to process everything, your eyes never leaving the delicate flower resting on your chest. When you arrive at the apartment, you can't help but notice how much - more than ever - this place made you feel like home.

A small smile escapes your lips as Spencer offers to help you remove and put away your coat and scarf. He removes his own scarf and coat as well and offers to put your rose in a container of water so it doesn't die. You hand it to him and as he disappears into the kitchen, you wander through the rows and rows of books, stopping when you notice that the chess pieces were not on the usual table, the moonlight coming through the window and illuminating only the chess board.

"I couldn't think of a better place," you hear Spencer say before looking in your direction, noticing the beautiful vase with several roses that he held in one hand and the tablecloth that he held in the other. He lovingly hands you the jar, smiling softly “I tried to put them all in my bag, but it was a bad idea, so they were waiting for you” he laughs embarrassedly as he arranges the tablecloth on the table.

You smile from ear to ear, enchanted by the beauty of the flowers, and place the vase in the center of the table so you can help him set up the rest of the romantic dinner. When everything was finished, you stop for a few moments to appreciate it and can't help but smile when your gaze lingers between the two chairs. As your relationship with Spencer deepened, a second chair began to appear frequently at the chess table, a sweet reminder of all the times you played there - and that, now, was even part of the scenery in his apartment -.

You sit there, smiling amusedly when Spencer reappears with a lit candle in his hand. "Waiter, please" you joke. He looks at you with arched eyebrows, carefully placing the candle next to the flowers. "On average, more than 7,000 candle fires happen here in the country each year".

You laugh nasally, fascinated by the moment "Thank you, Spence… I don't even know what to say. Everything is so… right, so romantic".

“It’s the least I could do and… I actually wish I had cooked, but time…” he scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“It’s perfect, seriously. Next time we’ll cook together and you’ll see my culinary skills,” you say, making a silly smile appear on his face as he nods positively.

You eat and talk calmly for a long time, enjoying each other’s company. When darkness already dominates the streets, you realize it’s time to end the night. After helping Spencer put things back in their proper places, you pause in the middle of the room on your way out, pondering what to do. It was still Valentine’s Day and you hadn’t kissed.

However, in these last moments, Spencer seemed more spaced out and lost in his own thoughts, probably overwhelmed by the emotions of the day. You feel bad for a moment, wondering if you hadn’t forced it too much with him. So, you choose to quickly grab your flowers and your coat, your little goodbye speech already on the tip of your tongue.

“Wait,” Spencer, who was standing there watching you get ready, spoke hurriedly and, after making sure you weren’t leaving yet, disappeared into his room, returning moments later hugging an object to his chest. He walked until he was close to you, but never stopped looking at what he had in his arms. Looking closely now, you noticed that it was a somewhat old book, with some obvious marks on the cover and spine.

Spencer opened and closed his mouth several times, but unable to say anything, he just handed the book to you. Parlement of Foules was printed in large letters.

“T-This is considered the first Valentine’s Day poem,” he said uncertainly, his tone lower than normal, as if he wasn’t talking to you. “For this was on St. Valentine’s Day, when every fowl comes there his mate to take… is a 700-line poem that follows the tradition of dream vision poetry, a medieval literary style, and Chaucer uses it to discuss romantic love and freedom of choice… my mother read it to me when I was a child” he finishes in a whisper so low that you doubt if you heard it right. You press the book against your fingers, understanding the weight that it implied.

Spencer bites his lip, but resumes speaking, now with a more confident tone “It was a poem that stuck in my memory, more than any other and… given today’s date I would like it… to become important to you too. It’s the second copy my mother had in case something happened to the first one… but nothing ever happened and well… one copy is enough for me” he smiles embarrassedly, scratching the back of his neck “I-I left some notes throughout the book, too, so you would always feel accompanied while reading and… well, know my opinions about it”

“Couldn’t you read it to me too?” The question escapes your lips, your eyes glazed over the book as you caress the cover with interest.

Spencer is taken aback by the question, but a small smile plays on his lips. “I could too, of course” he paused again, now looking at you expectantly “There’s one more thing in there…”

You press your lips together and stare at him. Passion, surprise, affection… you felt so many things in that moment that not even the cold wind outside could cool the warmth that permeates your heart. You delicately open the book, noticing a writing on the title page. It was in pencil, and the marks from previous attempts were still there as if they were telling you a secret, but they didn’t get in the way of reading the large, hurried letters.

You can only teach a child to love by loving them. Johann Goethe, From your Spencer

A small drop falls onto the page, briefly staining the paper. You then realize that tears are streaming down your face, even though a tender smile has not left your lips. Spencer comes even closer, taking the book from your hand so he can hold it in his. With his other hand, he slowly passes it over your face, wiping away the small drops that insisted on running down.

“The whole discussion of the poem revolves around love… whether people are destined to be together or whether they have the right to choose, whether by passion, affinity or social conventions.” He speaks delicately, never taking his eyes off you. “Love is everyone’s final destiny, but it is a complex, free and uncertain process that, honestly, is still the action of hormones and neurotransmitters…” He bites his lips, quickly looking away to look at you again, determined. “But even so, even though it is not destiny… I firmly believe and I am more than happy to know that I made all the correct choices that led us to meeting.”

Honestly, fuck it. You put your hands around his face, cradling him, and bring him closer to you. Your lips touch gently, and you can't focus on anything else. Spencer timidly holds your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Delicately, he starts to run his hands over your body as if he were appreciating a work of art until he reaches your face, where he caresses the side of your cheek with one hand and pulls you even closer with the other - if that's possible -. You separate from the kiss panting, but remain close, your foreheads touching. Spencer calmly places a tender kiss on your nose, then your forehead and, finally, on the top of your head, enjoying every second.

When you look at each other again, the only thing you can whisper are several "Thank yous". He smiles lovingly, still caressing your face.

“I don’t even know how to thank you, Spence,” you whisper. “You gave me so much today, with so much love, so much dedication… and I only gave you a meager little letter with messages that you surely already knew… I really don’t know how to repay you.”

His smile widens and when he answers, you feel like you’ve finally found your place. “Nothing could surpass the happiness your letter brought me, love, there’s nothing you can repay. However, it would make me even happier if you slept here…”

Author's note 2: Hello there! If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I'm also on c.ai with the same user @/wrioreid, but the process of making the bots is going veryyy slowly.

[6rookie-writer0110]

A new night with you

Hope Mikaelson x Male Reader

Request - Hello, how are you doing, could you make a male reader x Hope Mikelson? The reader is Hope's best friend, they are both in love with each other, sometimes they tried to say what they feel but it always happens that someone or something interrupts them. One day the gang decides to help both of them confess their feelings by setting them up on a date but everything turns out to be a failure, Lizzie fed up.

Lizzie is staring at you and Hope talking to each other. You and Hope are outside while Lizzie is on the balcony, but you two don't notice her. Her sister Josie walked up to her

“What are you staring at?” Josie asked

“Two clueless people in love with each other,” Lizzie said

“Oh. I don't think they will ever figure it out. But the way you are looking at them, looks like you have an idea” Josie said

“What makes you think that?” Lizzie asked

“Because I know you, obviously. How did you know that he is in love with Hope,” Josie said

“Remember, when I went on a mission with him when dad put us in pairs?” Lizzie said

“Yeah, I remember and I got paired with MG,” Josie said

“Well, a witch tricked us into thinking we were drinking a health potion but it was a truth potion. She was just messing with us and I was badly injured. I asked who he had a crush on and I thought it was you but he said he is in love with Hope but scared to tell her. The potion only lasted for a little bit” Lizzie said

“Oh, that's how you knew when you told me. They do make a cute couple but they are so clueless” Josie said

“That’s why we are going to help them but without telling them” Lizzie smirked

Lizzie and Josie walk away and Josie listens to her sister’s plan.

“Hope, I want to tell you something,” You said

“What is it?” Hope asked

“I wanted to say this for a long time. But I-I… Well, I like-”

You are in love your friend but you struggle to tell her. When its time to confess your feelings, you start to stutter and your heart race fast as if it will jump out of your chest. You have been in love with her for a long time now.

Before you or Hope can say anything, MG and Caleb ran towards you.

“The school is under attack,” MG said

“By who?” You asked

“Gargoyles are attacking the school and its more than one. We already got the other students to safety” Caleb said

“Keep doing that to make sure no one is left alone, while Y/N and the others help me fight them,” Hope said

“On it,” Caleb said

“Lizzie and Josie are fighting them but we have to hurry, follow me,” MG said

You and the others arrived just in time. Josie was about to be attacked then you saved her, by using your body as a shield then Hope used her magic to distract the gargoyle while you ran away with Josie.

“Thanks for saving me,” Josie said

“Are you okay?” You asked

“Yeah, I’m fine. You okay? The punch was pretty hard that you almost lost your balance” Josie said

“I’m fine,” You said

You and the others did fight the gargoyles, Hope and Josie used their magic to destroy them.

——-

You are in your room and Lizzie just walked in.

“I had no idea people can knock on the door without making a sound” You gasped

“Oh that was so funny, my stomach hurts. We need to talk now” Lizzie said

“About what?” You asked

“You confessing your love to Hope,” Lizzie said

“I can do it on my own,” You said

“You told me the truth about three weeks ago, and you haven't asked her on a date. Why are you taking so long?” Lizzie said

“Something always comes up. Like today the school was attacked and I was so close to telling her. Remember two weeks ago, you and Josie got killed by a siren” You said

“Okay, I get it. But I’m still going to help you. We all see how you and Hope look at each other. And I have a plan” Lizzie smiled

You said no, but didn't leave but she talked about different ideas how you and Hope can officially become a couple. Then she talked about first-date ideas, now she is just rambling.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✬

Hope was training on her own, then she saw you talking to Lizzie. Hope just stares at you and she gets butterflies in her stomach. She starts to wonder if you have feelings for her, but she has tried to tell you but the moment would get ruined.

“He does look cute in the shirt,” Josie said

Hope jumped because Josie just appeared out of nowhere.

“Don’t scare me like that, Josie” Hope said

“I was looking for you. I see the way you stare at him” Josie said

“I don't know what you are talking about,” Hope said

“Sure. all of us, are going to the movies tonight and you should come,” Josie said

“Who is us?” Hope asked

“Me, MG, Lizzie, Y/N and Caleb. Are you coming tonight?” Josie said

“Sure, I will go,” Hope said

“Good to know and I will tell the others,” Josie said

Josie and Hope walk togther back to their dorm rooms. They start to talk about the movies they want to see.

You are waiting at the movie theater for the others. You did send them a text but Hope arrived and you stared at her, then your heart started to race fast.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” You said

She blushed, she didn't expect you to say that.

“Thanks. I like your outfit. Where are the others?” Hope said

“I just sent them a text but no reply just yet. I thought you were coming with Lizzie and Josie” You said

“No. They told me to go because they weren't ready” Hope said

You and Hope stand next to each other and just wait. But they sent a text saying they couldn't make it, now you are alone with your crush.

“Do you want to see the movie or head back?” You said

“We are here so.:. We might as well watch a movie” Hope smiled

“Yeah,” You smiled

You and Hope go inside and you buy the tickets. While waiting on line to buy snacks, you and Hope turned to each other.

“Y/N, I want to say something that I been trying to tell you,” Hope said

“I want to tell you something too, but you go first,” You said

Hope was going to say it but the moment got ruined, the town was being attacked by an evil unicorn. You and Hope can hear people screaming outside, then you two went to see what is going on.

“No way, that's a unicorn,” You said in shock

“I can't believe it, but we can't pet it” Hope said

More people started to scream and run away. The Unicorn almost killed someone but Hope used her magic and then you helped the strange to get away from the unicorn.

Later, you and Hope went back to the school. You told Lizzie what happened and she is mad the moment got ruined.

———

You and Hope are training alone by the lake.

“You are too gentle, Y/N,” Hope said

“I don't want to hurt you,” You said

“I’m not made of glass,” Hope said

Hope started to punch faster then you started to block her punches. Now you start to throw punches but she is dodging your attacks. She grabbed your punch then she smirked at you

“Who is slow now?” Hope smirked

She lets go of your hand, then she tries to kick you but you grab her foot. Not too hard but you kick her other leg, and she falls down.

“Are you okay?” You asked

Hope is lying on the ground then you grabbed her hand to pull her up. But she pulls you then her foot is on your chest then you flip you onto the ground. You going to punch but she turned around grabbed your hand now her body was semi on top of you. You and Hope are staring at each other, you two are breathing hard. She gets lost in your eyes then she feels your lips on hers, then she starts to kiss you back. She pinned your hand onto the ground and she continued to kiss you.

“I wanted to kiss you for so long, Hope Mikaelson,” You said

“You can kiss me again. I always liked you as more than a friend” Hope said

“Be my girlfriend?” You asked

She starts to kiss you again and she hasn't let go of your hand.

“Now, you are my boyfriend,” Hope said

You and Hope are smiling at each other.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✬

You and Hope are on a serect date night. You surprised her with a picnic in the woods, you two are lying down on the blanket. You and Hope wanted to see the red moon because of the lunar eclipse. After seeing the red moon, she turns to you and she put her hand on your face and she starts to kiss you. You put your hand on her lower back and her lipstick gets on your lips.

The next day…

You went to get Hope in her room to walk her to class. Before leaving, she started to kiss you and you pulled her closer to you, now you and Hope are smiling at each other.

“Lipgloss got on your lips,” Hope said

She use her thumb to wipe it off your lips.

“I don’t care. I just like kissing you” You smiled

You start to kiss her again

“I like kissing you too, Y/N” Hope smiled

Lizzie and Josie walked in and they gasped, they just saw you and Hope kissing each other.

“Finally!” Lizzie yelled with joy

You and Hope moved away from each other.

“You two can't deny it now. Plus, Y/N you have her lipgloss on your lips” Josie teased

“We won't deny it. And yes, he is my boyfriend” Hope smiled

She grabs your hand and you can't stop smiling. Lizzie hugged you and Hope very tight and Josie started to laugh.

[ducks-and-teapots]

The Great Wave Chapter 15 Review!

This is my review of the new chapter(i've never done a review before so dont expect much lol)

Spoilers under the cut!

Well, this chapter was great! from the art and all of the little details in each panel to the suspense that had me in the edge of my seat, truly amazing

I'm not really familiar with the Dofus lore(I havent finished Aux Tresors or seen the movie yet) but i have a general idea of what happens

So when i tell you that I ALMOST EXPLODED WHEN LILOTTE APPEARED I mean it

If you haven't read the chapter and/or dont know who Lilotte is, allow me to explain;

This chapter beggins in the city of Bonta, showing the crowded streets, until Kerubim's Bazaar(i wonder if its still called that?) appears, showing Kerubim and Atcham napping in the front.

I think its something curious how these two ended up being a rather lazy version of their former selves(again, i havent finished Aux Tresors so what im saying probably doesnt make sense but idk), in fact even Joris points it out in season 4 and in this chapter, which takes me back to the baazar.

A costumer appears and asks Kerubim if they are opened, and he responds that yes, she can enter and his "little salesman" will assist her, before he can finish, Joris can be heard(he actually can't be heard because its a webtoon, but for the purposes of this little review he can) shouting, calling both Atcham and Kerub.

Inside of the bazaar, Joris can be seen hilariously, although not unjustifiably, panicking over the many clients and questions he's being asked at the same time.

Which leads him to calling his "sons", and seeing that they didn't come, having to go outside and suggesting them(or rather yelling) that they come to help him(their dinamic is so funny

kind of doomed tho)

Atcham and Kerubim, instead, tell him that its the rheumatism, which, quoting Atcham, "hurts a lot". Joris, unbothered(or amused??? idk you tell me what this expression is

At least he wasnt possesed lmao) asks them the rheumatism??? yesterday it was the gout, the day before yesterday arthritis and when it isnt digestion problems, its the motivation(damn, they rlly dont want to help 😭)

THEN, A HOODED FIGURE EXITS THE BAZAAR FAST, JORIS NOTICES IT AND GRABS THEM BY THE ARM, AND TELLS THEM THAT HE DOESNT REMEMBER THEM IN THE CHECKOUT SO I GUESS YOURE A THIEF, AND TAKES OUT OF THEIR HAND A RING(? idk it was a round small thing) AND TAKES OUT THEIR HOOD, AND ITS LILOTTE????????

BUT THAT CANT BE BECAUSE SHE DIED??????? WHAT IS HAPPENING????(btw, Lilotte is Joris' childhood friend, she was there when all the stuff with Julith happened, but i haven't seen the movie so thats what i know[feel free to put info about her in the comments/reblogs!], and the reason bc she's dead is because all of this happened in the Dofus era, meaning before Ogrest flooded the world and CENTURIES AGO)

SO SHE SHOUTS LET GO OF ME AND POOR JORIS IS SO SURPRISED THAT HE ALMOST DOES SO, BECAUSE IMAGINE THAT ONE OF YOUR BEST FRIENDS, THAT YOU THOUGHT WERE DEAD UNTIL TODAY, APPEARS IN YOUR HOME, TO ROB YOU??? WHICH OBVIOUSLY IS IMPOSSIBLE BC SHE EVEN HAS DESCENDANTS??? AND ALL OF THESE THINGS MUST HAVE PASSED THROUGH JORIS' MIND SO QUICKLY, AND MAYBE HE REMEMBERS OTHER FRIENDS HE HAD, AND ALL OF IT AND AHHHHHHH

SO OBVIOUSLY HE IS CONFUSED AND SHE TAKES THE OPPORTUNITY AND TAKES THE RING-THING AND RUNS AWAY[Though, now that im thinking abt it, Louis(the house/bazaar which is a shushu) must have recognized her too :( ]

AND JORIS IS THERE STANDING WITH THE HOOD SHE HAD AND LOOKS ALMOST SCARED, BUT THEN KERUB AND ATCHAM ASK HIM IF HES OKAY, AND THEN THERES A CLOSE UP OF JORIS AND HE LOOKS SO SADDD

BUT HE QUICKLY CHANGES HIS EXPRESSION(or tries to) AND TELLS THEM ITS OKAY KIDS I JUST GOT THE IMPRESSION OF GOING CENTURIES BACK... ATTEND THE CLIENTS I WILL RETURN WHEN I CAN, HE SAYS, WHILE HE LOOKS AT THE HOOD IN HIS HANDSSS!!!!

AND THEN HE LEAVES RUNNING!!!!!!

AND THEN WE SEE LILOTTE RUNNING THROUGH THE STREETS UNTIL SHE GOES TO THE SEWERS AND SHE ARRIVES TO A UNDERGROUND ECAFLIP SHELTER???(or something like that) AND SHE GOES TO THIS FIGURE WHO I GUESS LIKES SHINY STUFF BECAUSE THEY HAVE A LOT OF SHINY STUFF AROUND THEM!!!!

AND THEN THE CHAPTER ENDS!!!! IM GOING CRAZY!!!!!

Sorry for writing most of it in all-caps but i wanted to convey the suspense lol

Here are the theories I made so far!

1- Lilotte is not Lilotte(obviously) its actually Julith or

2- She is that ecaflip/ouginak from the thumbnail of chapter 17, who apparently can change form???

3- Or maybe she is just a random ouginak who looks a lot like Lilotte(a descendant?)

4- The guy that likes shiny stuff is a dragon(bonus points if its one of the primordials)

They are all BAD theories but oh well

Overall, this is the chapter that enjoyed the most(though last chapter was really pretty visually, and it showed the relationship between Dathura and Amalia greatly)

And i think thats all! I hope that you liked it, and maybe i will write another one for the next chapter :)

[wereh0gz]

Sonic au where everything's the same except the werehog was feral during unleashed. Nothing else abt the plot changes bc at his core sonic is still himself BUT he's more Creature. Bigger, fluffier, can't talk, overall more animal-isms. Yeah

[pumpkin-n-mc]

thinking about jack who likes to play dress up when he’s little, getting a necklace from his cg that’s just a subtle reminder. it’s very comforting to wear when he regresses alone, because if he gets scared or spirals he can hold the pendant and know he’s not alone, that his cg will help hhim.

[acepalindrome]

Alternatives to Squishmallow

So as many of you have probably already heard, Jazwares, the company that produces Squishmallows, is donating to charities that support Israeli soldiers and the IDF. They’re also supporting Canary Mission, which has been doxxing people who speak out against Israel. BDS hasn’t called for a boycott against them, but I can’t in good faith spend my money on their products, and I would strongly encourage everyone who enjoys plushies to really think long and hard about if you want to give your money to a company that’s helping support genocide!

But the holidays are coming up, and lots of us enjoy plushies and were fans of Squishmallow, and were planning to give Squishmallows to friends and family this year.

Fortunately, there are a number of great plushie companies out there, and I want to promote some of my favorites in the hopes that folks will get their plushie fix from a source that doesn’t side with Israel. So without further ado:

Fluffnest

Fluffnest got their start on Kickstarter a few years ago, and I adore the round shapes of their PuffPal plushies! My favorite is Pete the Possum, which is probably the best possum plush I’ve ever seen. I’ve also got a beautiful moth from their Kickstarter and I’ve been wanting their bats for ages. They also recently had a Kickstarter for an Animal Crossing-esque video game featuring their plushie characters and it looks fantastic.

Squishables

I can’t get over the plague doctor plushies. They’re so perfect and cute, and they’ve released other variations of them called Alter Egos, like a ghostly version, an alien, or a really sweet cottagecore one! They’ve got a ton of variety, but what I like the most are the fantasy plushies. There’s a lich! There are dragons and demons! Cryptids! Biblically accurate angels! A lot of really fun stuff!

Also they do a lot of great charity work! Right now they’re doing an auction for the Food Bank of New York City.

AfternoonFika

AfternoonFika is a very small business of only three people, but their plushies are extremely cute. They tend to sell out fast, so I recommend following them on social media to stay on top of any restocks! They recently released a line of dinosaurs that are precious, and of course I love their iconic cactus cat and cinnamon bun bunny.

Jellycat

Jellycat has been around since 1999, so they’re the oldest of these companies. They’ve got great designs, a ton of variety, and a lot of their plushies are made to be cuddled on and not just displayed. All three of my tiny nephews sleep with a different stuffed dog from Jellycat. My mom has a sun and several succulents that she uses as decorations. There’s a little something for everyone who enjoys plushies!

If you have any other favorite companies I haven’t mentioned, feel free to add on! I’ve enjoyed Squishmallows for a while now and I’m sad to see their leadership coming out on the side that’s committing war crimes on a daily basis, but this is a good time to discover new favorite plushie companies! And remember, money speaks loudly. Even if BDS hasn’t called for a boycott of Jazwares, it sends a message when sales start dropping for companies that support genocide. It’s a small thing, but the little things we do can add up!

[our-lady-of-mcr]

.

[pears-trinkets]

.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Baby’s first christmas

Tags: JJK men x fem!Reader, you two have a kid, tooth rotting fluff, JJK men being dads, tis the season, kind of suggestive on Satoru’s and Sukuna’s. Not proofread bc it’s christmas.

An: Happy holidays! No Choso because I never really include him in my JJK men as dads series. Sorry Choso enjoyers!! Also, the kids names have no affiliation with the names of anyone in JJK. They were names I thought up a while ago. This is a little short because I wrote it on Christmas Eve lol.

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna

SATORU

This would be Satoru’s first Christmas at home with a family. His clan didn’t celebrate Christmas, and even if they did, Satoru knew santa wasn’t real from a very young age.

He stared at you and your infant son as you rocked him back and forth. Satoru swore he could feel his heart swell three sizes larger. He knew that realistically his son, Aoi, wouldn’t remember this Christmas, but he wanted to create traditions.

He wanted to have something that he could look forward to every year.

“Where are you going?” You asked your husband with a warm laugh as he grabbed his keys and wallet. It was the night before Christmas. Everything would be closed by now, and they wouldn’t open until the day after Christmas.

“Don’t worry about it, Sweets. I’ll be home soon.” He assured you with his signature grin. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to both yours and Aoi’s head. His small baby stirred, making the cutest grunts and sleep noises. “Make sure to leave some cookies out for Santa. I think he should be stopping by soon.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at your husband’s antics. It was never a dull moment between you two.

“I think my sweet-toothed husband will eat them before Santa gets to them.” You remarked at Satoru headed towards the door. He flashed you a cheeky smile.

“No promises. It’s the thought that counts anyways.” He said before heading out into the snowy night. You shook your head at him, knowing he was likely up to no good.

You continued rocking Aoi in the rocking chair for a little while. Aoi could be a very fussy baby when mama or dada wasn’t holding him, so you weren’t taking any chances of putting him down just yet.

Instead, you carefully wrapped him up in a sling baby carrier, and you popped some cookies in the oven. Satoru helped you make the dough yesterday, and you two had already cut them out into various Christmas shapes.

Your mind was elsewhere as you cleaned up the kitchen and thought about what all needed to be done tomorrow. Satoru’s clan didn’t celebrate Christmas, but you had planned a surprise Christmas party and invited all of his friends to come celebrate with you three.

After a while, the oven beeped signaling that the cookies were at the perfect level of doneness. You put on your oven mitts on before carefully removing the pan. As you sat it down on the stove, the sound of tumbling down the chimney caught your attention.

Was there an animal trapped in your chimney? You grimaced at the thought of trying to save a rabid animal from the confines of your chimney.

You stepped over to the chimney to investigate from afar. With Aoi in your arms, you didn’t want to put your son in harm’s way.

Luckily for you, your goofy husband stared back up at you. His bright blue eyes were unmistakable, even while he had on a fake Santa costume with a fake beard. His face was smeared with black marks from the coal in your fireplace.

“Ho, ho, ho..” He laughed in a thick bellowing tone as he crawled out of the fireplace.

“Satoru, what are you doing? You’re going to scar Aoi.” You laughed as you walked over to your husband, wiping some smears off his cheek.

“I don’t know this Satoru you speak of. He must be on my naughty list. Ho, ho, ho.” Fake Santa continued, shooting you a small wink. He really wasn’t going to give up this act easily, was he?

He didn’t. Satoru played as Santa, placing a few gifts under the tree and munching on some homemade cookies and milk in the act. He had to perfect his Santa persona for when Aoi would be able to form memories.

Your real husband conveniently didn’t return until after “Santa” had left, and he even had the audacity to pout about not receiving any gifts from Santa. You had to politely inform him that he was on the naughty list this year, which promptly had Satoru smirking at you.

“Bummer. Santa even forgot to leave me a lump of coal. If only there was another way for me to be punished for being on the naughty list…”

SUGURU

You were dreading Christmas. A new mom with twin baby girls and several houses to go to just didn’t sound like any fun. Of course, your husband, Suguru, would offer to help in any way he could, but you both knew you were going to be exhausted and overstimulated by the end of the day.

“We don’t have to go see everyone.” Suguru murmured into your ear. It was the night before Christmas, and you had just been anxiously carrying on about how badly you didn’t want to get out tomorrow.

His large palm rubbed up and down your arm in a soothing manner as he cradled you in his strong arms. Your head was pressed against his chest, listening to the steady drum of his heart.

“That would be rude.” You murmured.

“As if I’ve ever cared about being rude.” Suguru retorted with a calm smile. He then reached over and flicked off the bedside lamp, cascading your bedroom in darkness.

You two snuggled in each other’s arms, sharing lazy kisses and sweet nothings. It felt like you only managed to blink your eyes before one of your girls were crying over the baby monitor.

Patting the bed next to you, you find nothing but slightly warmed sheets. Geto must’ve already gotten up with the girls. One look at the baby cam has your heart melting.

Your husband’s sleepy eyes are half closed as he has a baby in each arm. He was quietly trying to shush them, speaking softly, “Please, don’t wake up mama. Let her sleep in today, girls. She deserves to rest easy on Christmas.”

You pushed the covers up off of you, unable to resist seeing this moment for yourself. You lean against the nursery doorway as you watch him continue shushing and rocking the twins.

“Merry Christmas, Suguru.” You finally spoke, giving away your presence. Your husband subtly flinched before turning around to meet your gaze.

“Merry Christmas, darling.” He responded before walking over and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I have a surprise for you.” He murmured into your presence.

A crease formed between your eyebrows as you wondered just what he was up to. He carefully nodded towards the window, signaling for you to take a look outside.

The bright light reflecting off the white powdery substance had you shielding your eyes. It must’ve snowed at least 7 inches throughout the night.

“We’re snowed in.” Geto quietly chuckled, pleased with the turn of luck. You two didn’t have to haul the twins to several houses, and you two could just rest easy at home.

NANAMI

Your husband had always been an early riser. He was consistently up earlier than you, even on christmas morning. You were normally really into Christmas, but you never managed to wake up before him.

Even this morning, you drowsily rolled over in your shared bed, trying to find your husband’s presence, but he was no where to be found.

You slowly sit up, rubbing your eyes free from sleep. You were honest surprised that Hana didn’t wake you two up during the night and Yuji hadn’t woke you up either.

Getting out of bed, you see Nanami had already placed your robe and slippers next to the bed for your convenience. You smile before slipping those on and heading downstairs.

“Nanamin, does this bacon need to be flipped?” You hear Yuji’s voice ask. The soft sounds of Bluey playing on the living room TV also fill your ears, and Hana’s soft babbling can be heard as well.

“Yes, go ahead and flip it.” Your husband instructs Yuji. You two had adopted Yuji after the events at Jujutsu Tech. He needed a family, and you two had a loving home that was painfully empty. Now, it was never a dull moment between Yuji and his little sister, Hana.

You quietly creep into the kitchen, and you smile at the sight. Your husband was clad in a white apron that said, “Kiss the chef”. You had gotten it for him long ago, and he still wears it to this day. He was working making some pancakes while Yuji was tending to the bacon.

Hana was in her bouncer chair in the living room. Nanami rarely ever parked her in front of the TV, but walking around with her in a sling wasn’t an option this morning, not when Yuji was frying bacon and she could be popped with it.

“Merry Christmas, you two.” You said, finally announcing your presence. Yuji looked up at you before his lips turned into a pout, and Nanami let out a small chuckle.

“Good morning, darling. You couldn’t sleep for just a few more minutes? Yuji wanted to give you breakfast in bed as a christmas present.” Your husband walked over to you, and he pressed a kiss against your temple.

“Aw, sorry, Yuu. I was excited to see you and Hana open up gifts.” You said with an empathetic smile, and Yuji’s pout vanishes.

“That’s alright! I can give you breakfast on the couch. It’s almost as good as breakfast in bed.” His bright smile quickly returns to him.

“It’s perfect, Yuu.” You say before ruffling his soft pink hair. He was such a good kid. He deserved the world and more.

A little while later, your family was sat upon the couch. Nanami was passing out Christmas gifts. Hana was sat in your lap as you helped her unwrap her gifts. She, of course, wouldn’t remember this, but this would be your favorite memory of all time.

“Let’s give Hana and Yuji another little sibling next Christmas.” You mutter to Nanami as you two watch Yuji and Hana play together on the floor.

“Ew! I heard that!” Yuji pouted, causing for both you and Nanami to laugh.

TOJI

Sweet baby Megumi was just three days old on his first Christmas. You and Toji had been hoping that the doctors were going to finally discharge you and Megumi, so you two could go home on Christmas.

It’s not that you two had any plans. You both came from broken families, but even if you did have family, you two had agreed on no visitors for the first week. You didn’t want to risk Megumi or you getting sick, especially since all the nasty sickness goes around during December.

You two also just wanted to get use to life with a baby. This was your first, and you were young. There was going to be a small adjustment period, and you wanted to worry about that without also worrying about visitors.

Toji was laid up in the hospital bed with you. He didn’t care about the damn policy. His wife just had a baby. He was going to hold her in his arms as much as he could.

Megumi was in your arms, sleeping away peacefully. “He’s got your eyelashes. I’m jealous.” You murmur to Toji as both of you admire your beautiful baby.

“He’s got your mouth.” Toji offered as consolation, and you let out a small giggle.

“That’s all he got from me. I carried him for nine months, and he had the audacity to look like he fell from your ass.” You comment back, making Toji grin down at you.

“Sorry, ma. Those Zenin genes are unfortunately strong.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “If I could have it my way, he would look just like you.”

“No,” You whispered with a heartfelt smile. Tears blurred some of your vision as your hormones were still so out of balance from birthing a child. “He’s perfect. I love him so much already.”

“Don’t cry, ma.” Toji muttered as he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away your tears. This would only be the 20th time you cried over how much you love your son.

A knock at the door startles you both, and your doctor walks in with a pleasant smile. “Merry Christmas, you two.”

“Merry Christmas.” You respond back in a hesitant tone. The thought of the doctor informing both of you that you had to stay another day worried you to no end. Both you and Toji were going stir crazy inside that hospital room.

“I’m sure both of you are ready to take your little bundle of joy home.” The doctor says as he flips through your chart briefly. “So, I’m going to let you go home today.”

Sighs of relief fill the room. It was probably the best Christmas gift you had ever gotten.

Scratch that, seeing Toji do the “hot dad walk” was definitely the best Christmas gift you had ever gotten. He was wearing a black hoodie, carrying a carseat with your son all bundled in, and he was walking out to the car as a nurse pushed you in a wheelchair (you tried denying the wheelchair, but it’s “hospital policy”).

“We’re bad parents.” You cried on the way home. Toji was flabbergasted by how quickly your mood could change.

“We’re not bad parents. Why would you say that, ma?” He asked as he reached over and rubbed your thigh while driving the car. Megumi was peacefully asleep in the back seat.

“We didn’t get our son anything for Christmas.” You mumble through the tears. Megumi was actually due on December 26th, but he decided to come a little early. You two decided that a newborn didn’t need gifts, and you were heavily pregnant, so the idea of wrapping any gifts didn’t spark you any joy.

“Doll, we literally gave him life. Besides, I’ve only known the brat for a couple days. How should I know what to get him?” Toji jokes, trying to make you feel better about the lack of gifts. You let out a small laugh in response.

“I promise, ma. We’ll give him a better Christmas than you and I ever got next year.”

SUKUNA

“My son will worship no false deity. I’m the only god getting worshipper around here.” Sukuna declared as he covered up Ryu’s ears with his hands.

“Santa Claus is not a false deity, Kuna. He’s a fairytale.” You respond back to your husband as you roll your eyes. It’s not even like your sweet baby could even understand what you two were saying about Santa anyways.

It was his first Christmas, and you were trying to introduce both Sukuna and Ryu to the human traditions for the holiday season. It seemed like neither of them were having it.

“Do curses do anything for the winter solstice?” You ask Sukuna, looking up at him from your seat on the floor as you help Ryu unwrap another gift from Santa you and Sukuna.

“We eat a virgin.” The king of curses reply without skipping a beat, causing you to look up at him with disgust and horror. “Oh, don’t worry, flower. You’re safe. I made sure of that long ago.”

You roll your eyes and give him a pity laugh. Sukuna thinks he’s so funny sometimes. “Yeah, I didn’t think anyone would mistake me for a virgin when I have your baby on my hip constantly.”

“You should have another on your other hip.” Sukuna comments with a wolfish grin. Ever since you pushed Ryu, Sukuna had been gunning to get you pregnant again.

“I think one half-curse, half-human baby is enough, Kuna.” You say with a small laugh while jingling a toy in front of Ryu’s face. He giggles happily as he reaches out to grab it from you.

“You’re the only human that gets away with defying me. You know that? I would’ve already dismantled anyone else.” He comments, and you roll your eyes once again. “I should inform Krampus of your disobedience.”

“Wait- curses believe in Krampus?” You ask as you look back up at him, finally intrigued by what he was saying.

“He’s real. There is no believing in him. He goes around and punishes the naughty children, even curse spawn have to worry about Krampus.” Sukuna informed as he propped his head up with his hand and gave a lazy smile. One of his favorite pastimes was teaching you about his culture. He loved how you always listened and absorbed the information while trying to relate it to human culture.

“Isn’t being naughty what curse spawn are meant to be?” You question as you cock an eyebrow. Sukuna gives a low chuckle in response.

“Yes, but they’re still expected to obey their elders as Ryu is expected to obey us.” His large palm gently pats Ryu head, and your son looks up at him with the most innocent of smiles.

Most babies are inherently terrified of Sukuna as if they could sense the danger from him, but Ryu loved his dad and never showed any signs of fear. The sight of you and Ryu playing with toys on Christmas morning was enough for Sukuna’s heart to grow three sizes bigger.

[juustokaku]

Another load of Jealousy - Yunho x f!reader

Summary: Yunho isn't about to even entertain the idea of his girlfriend talking to another man. It doesn't matter how many loads of love, care, and cum it takes to make her remember that she is his and he is hers. Genre: smut (mdni!!!) Pairings: bf!Yunho x f!reader Tags/Warnings: SMUT MDNI, mean dom!yunho (kinda sweet after some time), sub!reader, fingering(?), penetration, unprotected sex, established relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding kink, choking, bulge (lmk if something is missing, I have never done this) A/N: This is the 3rd smut I've ever written in my life... I haven't posted the first two since they were written a couple years ago and were bad, so I hope this is worth posting. The plot isn't anything great because this was mostly for trying to see what it's like to write smut and I didn't want to waste a good plot on this if this turned out bad LOLLL. So please, keep in mind that I've almost never written smut! Word count: 2 300 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If someone asked you if you loved Yunho, you’d answer ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. He was more than just a lover or a boyfriend; he was your worshipper, kissing the ground you walked on. And if someone asked you if you’d ever cheat on him, you’d give a firm ‘no’ and tell the person off. Although you wanted to make it clear to everyone you were Yunho’s girl because you loved him, it wasn’t the only reason to push people away. You’d be in big trouble if he started to consider the possibility of you holding affectionate feelings for anyone else than him. 

“Baby, what are you doing? ~” 

Despite Yunho’s needy tone and presence next to you on the couch, you couldn’t tear your gaze off of your phone. 

“Wait a second, Yuyu,” you murmured. 

He watched as your fingers tap-danced on the small screen, obviously writing a message to someone. Someone who was robbing him of your attention. Your eyes reflected the light coming from the phone screen but Yunho’s eyes shone with something else. He was getting frustrated. 

“Please, I’m lonely,” he whined, his hand creeping up on your thigh, trying to go unnoticed yet wanting desperately for you to pay attention to him. 

Still, you didn’t even glance at him. It was subtle but Yunho noticed how you tried to hide your phone screen, leaning away ever so slightly. 

The longer your attention was on the mysterious person you were talking to, the angrier Yunho became. 

You felt him squeeze your thigh, silently demanding you to finally look at him in the eyes. It was a final warning. Only when his long fingers dug onto your inner thigh, you turned to face him. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

Yunho’s icy voice shouldn’t have surprised you – this was nothing new, given his possessive nature. And like always, while it made you nervous, it also caused your pussy to clench around nothing. You couldn’t help but get horny when he looked like he’d devour you any second now. 

“Just work stuff,” you murmured, taking a glance at his hand. No matter how many times his beautiful fingers had been inside you, reaching the deepest, sweetest spots, you just couldn’t get enough. 

“At this hour? That’s bullshit.” 

While Yunho’s eyes were cold, they were undeniably burning with both fury and lust. You knew the look way too well just like he knew your body. 

“I’m friends with him so I feel comfortable texting him even in the evening. It’s just about a work project.” 

“Him?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed. 

You were too nervous to break eye contact with him, but you didn’t need to see to feel his hand hover over your core, so close but so far. Even though he was barely touching you, he was probably able to feel how your wetness seeped through your night shorts. 

“Please, Yunho... Don’t tease me,” you let out a quiet whine, hoping it’d persuade Yunho into touching you. 

Immediately, he pulled you roughly into a kiss. In a normal situation he would have kept you begging for him, but right now his desire and anger towards you were too much to handle for both of you. His lips claimed yours and showed no mercy or signs of going easy on you. You were enthusiastic to kiss him back, but his need to have you was even stronger. 

The way he started nearly biting on your lips would have soon left bruises, if you hadn’t pulled away. The both of you were breathing heavily after the intense moment, but Yunho wasted no time in trying to rest. 

“Who is that coworker? A friend you say?” 

You felt your pussy get wetter by his demanding words and you tried your best to give him an answer – one that would satisfy him enough yet encourage him to fuck you senseless. 

“We’re not close, but enough to be considered friends-! Yunho!..” 

He interrupted you with his fingers suddenly under your clothing, circling your clit. 

“What do you need friends for when I’m here? Don’t I give you all you need?” 

You squirmed around at the movements of Yunho’s skillful hands. It was hard not to feel even slightly embarrassed; you didn’t want him to know how aroused his possessiveness made you. 

“Y-You can’t do work projects for me... I need him.” 

Your choice of words pushed the wrong buttons in Yunho, and he took his hand out of your panties. He didn’t care when you whined at the loss of contact, just pure jealousy burning in his eyes. 

“You say you need him? Baby, I’m all you need,” his voice was low and dangerous, “There’s nothing and no-one else.” 

It didn’t take long for him to have dragged you into the bedroom, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in a bruising grip. You tried to savor every moment despite knowing there were more to come after this. 

The streetlights outside were the only source of light in your dim bedroom. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but apparently Yunho saw well enough to push you onto the bed. Maybe he wouldn’t have cared anyways if he had pushed you accidentally on the floor. Whenever he got like this, satisfying his need to claim you was the top priority. 

“Strip.” 

You immediately started taking off your nightwear which you had just changed to after shower. Your hair was still damp and smelling like your shampoo. It was definite you’d have to take a shower again after this – preferably with Yunho. 

“You’re too slow,” he scolded. The way he started pulling your shorts and panties off was surprisingly gentle; even though he was mad at you, he was still your mere worshipper and saw you as his goddess. 

Finally, when you saw him properly, your breath caught in your throat. He wasn’t standing, just on his knees on the bed, but his height was still intimidating. You loved it though. You loved every moment of this, and your pussy throbbed with desire to have him fill you up to the brim. 

His chest was heaving with anticipation, and although seeing it bare always excited you, your eyes were fixated on that cock of his. 

“I-It’s bigger than I remembered...” 

“You’re going to take it nonetheless. You don’t deserve this after how you’ve acted but I need this now,” Yunho stated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. 

You felt like a prey, his next meal, as you watched him crawl closer on the bed and lay you down rather harshly. The intense eye contact just added to the arousal you felt leaking out of you. You needed him so bad, and your legs spread open automatically to give him way to your core that was aching for him. 

“You need a damn reminder every week of who you belong to. I don’t know if I want you to stop teasing me like that or not,” Yunho whispered, his right hand finding its way to your neck, “At least I get to fuck you like this.” 

He turned your gaze back up to him by gripping your neck, when you tried to look at his cock. You managed to see how its tip was covered in clear precum. It was as hard as it always was when you had moments like this, if not even harder. You wondered how it had ever managed to fit inside you with the impressive girth and length. 

“Look at me in the eyes. I want you to look at me clearly so you’ll remember my face every time you talk to another man.” 

You didn’t have time to process Yunho’s words. As he pushed his cock inside you, it was impossible to think about anything else than him. Although you were as wet as ever for him, it was still almost hard to take him in. No matter how many times he had made love to or fucked you, no matter how fast and rough or slow and romantic, he stretched you up nicely every time. 

“My girl. My baby,” Yunho muttered more to himself than to you. His hips had started moving some time ago already, but only now you were coming down back to Earth. 

His hand was on your neck like to use it to support himself, but the grip was still somewhat gentle. It tightened every time he thrusted in, and the lack of air just made you lose your mind in the pleasure even more. 

Your walls were slippery and starting to adjust to his size, so he slid inside with ease. It didn’t mean there was no delicious friction left though. 

“Who do you belong to? Him or me?” he growled into your ear. Although the pace of his hips had grown faster, he made sure to push deep inside you, drawing out every moan he could get from you. 

Your attempt to answer was cut off quickly as Yunho’s hands started squeezing your throat. It would have been hard to breathe even if you weren’t breathless already from having him ram your insides. 

“Answer me. A little choking shouldn’t shut you up like this.” 

Again, you tried to tell Yunho that you were only his to love, fuck, and take care of. But he held your throat tighter again, clearly teasing you. It was impossible to win this game, and you loved it that way. 

A mocking smirk spread on Yunho’s lips, “You don’t have to say it. I know you’re mine by the way I’m the only who ever gets to be balls deep inside you.” 

He released your neck and pressed his hand lightly on your lower stomach. It was no secret that your boyfriend’s cock was big, but the way you could see a clear bulge, the way your lower abdomen moved up and down with Yunho’s thrusts, made you clench down on him.��

“F-Fuck... You make it so hard to stay mad at you,” he groaned out. 

You watched his eyebrows furrow as if he was holding back. Finally, you had been able to catch your breath, although it was still difficult due to his relentless thrusts. 

“I love you. I’m yours, Yunho...” 

Your pleasured admission not only softened his heart a bit but made him even more lustful. He knew you were his. If you tried to leave him, he’d find a way to make you stay – even with force if necessary. But hearing you say out loud once again that you were his satisfied him. 

“I know. I know, my pretty girl, and I love you too,” his eyes met yours in a gentle way even. 

A loud moan slipped past your lips as Yunho’s fingers found your clit, finally continuing what he had started on the couch in the living room. Circling, pressing, and pinching on it – he did it all. Your sensitive skin tingled and almost felt like on fire. 

“W-Will you fill me up?” you grasped at the sheets under you, making them all rumpled and look unkempt. They were dirty anyways due to the sweating. 

Yunho moved your hands on his shoulders. There was nothing more that he wanted than to see your nail scrapes on his skin, a mark of who he belonged to. 

“I’ll fill you up, baby. My cum will be leaking out,” he looked at you before turning his eyes to his cock, slightly amused, “I’ll just fuck a new load tomorrow then. You’ll have my babies in no time.” 

His talk about breeding you brought you closer to your release, and he definitely noticed it by the way your pussy squeezed his thick cock. 

“Look at your pussy, how it’s clenching down on me. It likes to be bred, huh?” 

“Yunho, I-I'm close... so close,” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders like they were your savior. But you knew nothing could save you from the climax you were reaching quickly. 

Yunho smiled down at you a bit cockily, “Have I made clear who you belong to?” 

“Yes!” you whined, thighs trembling. 

“And who do you belong to, baby?” 

If you weren’t in such a state of mind-blowing pleasure, you could have teased him on purpose and said the name of your coworker. However, now that you were so close to coming, you couldn’t ruin this. 

“You! You, Yunho!..” 

A genuine, sweet smile tugged the corners of his lips slightly upwards. By looking at his furrowed eyebrows, it was clear he was holding back as well, near to orgasm but fighting back for your sake. 

And Yunho knew your body so well, that he recognized your sounds of enjoyment and body language, so that just when you reached the peak, he closed the distance between your lips. Your cries of pure pleasure were muffled by his mouth. 

His body shook and it didn’t take long for him to go over the edge, to let out a few stifled groans. Hot cum spurted out inside you, filling you just like Yunho had promised. 

“So, you’re going to block that man’s number, right?” Yunho mumbled, his head lying down on your chest. He could hear your heart beating rapidly after the intense session but eventually calming down to steady, slow beats. 

You chuckled, caressing his hair slightly damp from the sweat, “I can’t block my coworker’s number.” 

A surprised and disappointed whine fell past your lips as Yunho got up and pulled his now softened cock out of you. He looked down at your pussy, watching with glee how his fresh cum leaked out. There was a lot of it still inside you, but it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was ever enough for him when it came to you. 

“I guess you can take another load then.” 

[hello-eden]

Unexpected Hope

Damian has been disoriented all week. When he was told that stopping the ritual would have repercussions, he did not expect this. He had been dealing with the memories on his own but unfortunately he could not postpone this gala. 

He had been stopping a ritual that would end up summoning the being he now knows as Undergrowth. Damien does not regret that choice especially now that he has the context. Unfortunately it brought back his memories of Phantom.

He didn't quite understand they were memories for quite a while honestly he was a little bit concerned he got possessed. Thankfully after some compartmentalizing and a little bit of isolation, he figured out what was wrong. It did not help the confusion that comes with being a Midwestern teen and an assassin child put into one body but he has gotten the hang of it. 

Unfortunately Damian did not get long before he was forced back into the presence of his family. he had put off many public family events in the last few months so he was not able to get out of this event. he probably could have faked being sick but he'd much prefer to be able to pass off any of his symptoms from the memories as uncomfortableness being around strangers then be alone with his family. 

He's honestly very happy with his choice after he sees her. He doesn't recognize her at first with the dark auburn braided hair and the dress being something other than black but something made him turn around when he heard her rant.

She was giving a humanitarian speech to one of the investors. At first he got closer just to hear about it. It's always funny to see the faces of the imbeciles when people don't bow to their wishes.

Damien thought he finally found someone who was not a gold digger or a social climber. What made him really stop in his tracks was her body language. It was like a neon flashing sign opened up and said ‘hey this is Sam Mason’. 

Damien walked over with hope in his chest that he was not alone. she eventually seemed to get tired of the man or maybe he was able to scramble an excuse and walk away. he couldn't quite hear but by the time he walked over there it was only her.

 “you seem to be quite passionate,” Damian says, trying to start a conversation and figuring out how to ask the hard question.

 What is he exactly supposed to say? ‘Hey, are you my best friend for my last life or hey do you remember being on my ghost hero vigilante team that ended up with all of us being Undead royalty.’

The girl looks him over, probably trying to figure out what he wants. 

“Are you here to argue?” She says angrily, obviously ready for another fight.

“Your speech reminds me of someone, have you ever heard of Samantha Mason” Damien says trying to be nonchalant.

Her eyes seem to widen and look him over again.

“Where'd you hear that name.” She ordered.

“I've heard enough of her rants to be able to pick it out from a crowd.”

 “Danny,”  She said softly her grabbing his hands and squeezing as she looked around to make sure no one saw. “what how I thought it was the only one” Hope seemed to be filling her eyes. 

“Hi Sam” Damien Whispers just as softly just as glad he is not alone. 

Without another word Sam drags them to the stairway rushing up to the floor upstairs and trying to find a room that isn't being used. She eventually finds one two floors above the room they were using for the gala and pushes him into what looks like a break room.

 “How the hell did you get your memories” Sam demands 

“Why are you yelling at me? You have your memories too obviously if you are recognizing your name” Damian says shouting back at her. 

Sam always has a way of catching him off guard. She was happy just a minute ago. 

“yeah well I did something stupid which means I know you did something stupid” Sam said pointing her finger at him.

“ Well I may have accidentally stumbled upon a ritual for summoning an ancient and when I stopped it the backlash gave me my memories back. ” Damien stumbled over their words trying to justify themselves. "What stupid thing did you do?”

“The girls in my stupid Prep School in my grade went through a very witchy phase. there was a slumber party and they were stupid enough to actually find real magic. I had a cut on my hand earlier in the day and try to freak them out by adding a little bit of my blood. apparently my protection spell is literally stuck into my soul, so things went down” Sam says just as hesitantly as Damien

 “you have zero leg to stand on okay fine we were both stupid” 

They both sat there in silence for a while, mostly just basking in each other's presents realizing they weren't alone anymore.

“it's good to have you back," Damian says, giving her a weak smile and running his hands through his hair.

He'd been trained out of all of his nervous ticks but it probably makes her more comfortable to see him just as nervous as she is.

“it's good to see you too da- do you have the same name?” both of them don't seem to realize at the same time that they didn't get each other's names. 

“Damien” he says as he pulls his hand out of his hair and puts his hand out for a handshake. 

“Sarah” she says, grabbing his hand and giving it a shake.

the two of them shake their hand for a moment before they look at each other's eyes and burst out giggling. 

Damien's really glad he decided to not pretend to be sick.

[darnell-la]

A little dark but how about Logan slipping the reader an aphrodisiac into their drink or something to make her have sex with him. And since he is their drive home, she becomes desperate and needy for a release from him despite not understanding what’s happening to her is she’s usually kinda innocent

note: no one will understand how much I need this.

———

“L-Logan, how long until we’re at the school?” Y/n asked as the throbbing between her legs ached more. She’s never been the type to get turned on. She usually has to build up to it, but tonight, she couldn’t help but squirm in her seat.

“Maybe a half an hour,” Logan lied, knowing they were just down the road. “Fuck,” Y/n said under her breath as she shifted in her seat, embarrassed about how much she wanted to touch herself for at least a second. She needed it to go away.

“Why, what’s up, bub?” Logan asked, acting innocent until he didn’t have to. “Nothing, just- Maybe step on it,” y/n said, meaning for him to drive faster.

“Well, it ain’t hard to see something's going on with you. Just tell me, bub,” Logan said, but y/n couldn’t. “It’s fine-“ y/n tried lying again, but Logan wanted her to tell him what he knew was happening.

“Y/n, don’t start with this secretive shit, okay? I wanna know what’s up with you,” Logan spoke as he placed a hand on her thigh, wanting her to feel more throbbing through her body.

Logan could smell her hours ago. He always smelled her, but after he slipped those pills into her, he could barely shop being around her. He neared to rip her to shreds a while ago, but he held himself together. He needed her to start.

“Look, don’t start laughing when I tell you this — I-I don’t know what’s up, but I’m, like, really fucking throbbing right now. Like, I feel like I’ve been edging myself for hours,”

Y/n and Logan had been friends for a while, so the way she spoke about her situation didn’t phase him. She was just afraid the situation would throw him off.

“What do you mean? Like, you’re honey or something?” Logan asked, feeling his cock pulse through his jeans. He knew he was close to starting what he’d been wanting to do for years.

“Yeah, I guess — Look, just get home. I can’t hold my shit,” y/n said as she crossed her legs. “You need help?” Logan asked, making y/n remember his hand was still over her thigh. She felt a small grip, which made her heart drop.

“N-No, no, I’m good,” y/n said, slowly moving Logan’s hand away because his touch was too much for her. She’s never actually thought of him in any sexual way, but now, she’s realizing the effect he could have on her.

“Why? We’re friends here, and I don’t want you pissy the whole ride back,” Logan said, but y/n shook her head and pushed at his hand that tried to make it back to her thigh.

“I’m okay, I swear — J-Just get us home,” Logan sighed with an eye roll as he pulled off to the side of the dark road. “Logan, please don’t fuck around,” y/n whined as Logan put the car in park and hopped out.

“Logan, what is this about,” y/n leaned back in her seat as Logan walked around the car. The more time that passed, the worse she felt. She felt like she was going to explode at any small rub on her bud.

“We’re far out, and you don’t look like you’re gonna make it,” Logan said as he opened the door. Before y/n could speak, the man pulled under out of the car and pushed her upper body down on her seat.

“Logan, what the hell!” Y/n shouted as she leaned up, not comprehending what was happening until Logan forced her leggings down. “Hey!” Y/n tried turning around, but Logan pushed her back down on the seat.

“Oh, relax — We’re adults — It’s not like you haven’t done this before,” Logan said as he tugged in his own clothes. “Yeah, but not outside. In the dark! In public!” Y/n said but stopped moving.

The woman allowed Logan to roam her body. If he was willing to do this, why would she stop him?

“Just stay still, bub. I’ll help you,” Logan said before he pushed at her cunt. Y/n was surprised at how fast he was willing to help her and be with her. If he wanted, he could’ve rubbed her while he continued driving.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Logan pinned y/n down as she twitched and squirmed. “Fuck,” the young lady moaned low as she tried her best to take him in with ease.

One hand of Logan’s gripped y/n’s ass to spread. He noticed he was probably too big for y/n to handle, but he didn’t go through all of this for nothing.

“Sssh, bub, you’ll be fine — Just fine,” Logan whispered as he continued pushing into her until he was fully in. “Oh, yeah — That’s it,” the man basically growled before he began moving his hips.

“Oh my god,” Y/n said low as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Too fucking big, Logan- Fuck,” y/n tried moving to make this more comfortable, but the way he dug into her, forced her to understand that her body had minimal time left until she bursts.

“Y/n, stay still, before I get unfriendly,” Logan threatened as he slowly thrusted, trying to enjoy how tight she was gripping him. “L-Lo, give me a second — Please,” y/n asked, he ignored.

Y/n tried again to lean up, which only angered Logan. He tried being nice, but y/n has always been hard-headed.

“Look,” Logan gripped a hand full of the young lady's hair and tugged back. “You’re either gonna take it nice and easy, or I’ll rip that orgasm out of you,” Logan threatened again.

“Maybe if you fucking wait, I could-“ Before she could finish, Logan slapped his hand over her mouth and began pounding into her. Y/n’s muffled cries were all she could do.

“You needa learn some fucking respect when you’re the one horny and vulnerable,” Logan hissed the girl's ear as his hips slapped against her ass harder. The noises filled the dark road, only turning Logan on more.

“Such a good cunt. Heaven sent, and I knew it from the smell of you — I’m just upset you kept it from me for so damn long,”

Logan pushed Y/n’s head into the seat after unlatching his hand from her mouth. “Logan!” Y/n basically screamed as the knot got harder to hold.

“Funny knowing your pussy isn’t the only one crying. Look at you. So damn wet. I could keep you in my room and feed off of you for weeks,”

Y/n’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as her body went stiff. “Oh, yeah — There she is,” Logan groaned as he picked up his pace. “Ah huh, ah huh,” Logan kept on as y/n gushed around the man with a loud cry.

“That’s what you’ve been holdin? C’mon, baby. I know you’ve got more in you,” y/n shook her head, hoping Logan would give her a small break before she fully passed out. “Too much,”

“Too much? Oh, please. You think ima stop because you’re about to cum again?” Logan quickly pulled out and turned y/n around. “C’mon, baby, you should’ve known,”

Logan laid y/n down on her back before pushing right back into her. “Oh my god,” y/n whined as she threw her head back, loving the feeling of Logan taking her over. She never knew he’d be this good.

“Don’t worry, baby. After I’m done, we’ll head home — Maybe I should slip a pill down your pretty mouth more often,”

Y/n tried looking up at Logan to see if she heard right, but another orgasm was near. “Yeah, I did that, baby, but you ain’t complaining, right? You fucking love this,”