#dino-drawer

[starsteemer]

winter feathers

[tojirights]

feat gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento & choso kamo

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, minors do not interact.

breeding, teasing, unprotected sex, daddy kink

buy me a coffee?

gojo satoru

teases you about it constantly. he can always tell when you're ovulating by the way you talk about babies, how you squeak every time you see a toddler in a cute little outfit, especially little boys in dino sweaters. you know gojo isn't looking to have kids soon, if ever, but he's always able to pull out the charm just enough to tease you while your baby fever sky rockets.

"oh my godd 'toru." you whine, pulling on his shirt to get his attention. the cutest little baby sits in a swing as you walk past the park, giggling as his mama pushes him. gojo just chuckles, shaking his head. "what's up baby?" he snickers, watching your eyes light up. "y'wanna go home and make one?" his eyebrows wiggle and you sigh with annoyance but you can't help the way your body reacts to his tone.

gojo wraps you in his arms and hums. "one day, princess. you'll be such a good mama." he kisses your forehead as you sink into his chest. "and you're gonna look so sexy pregnant..." he groans to himself at the thought. you roll your eyes as gojo pulls you close. "let's go practice, hm?"

toji fushiguro

loves to see you swoon over his kids, and is greatful you like 'em so much to give him a break. but he makes the mistake of falling for your little puppy-dog eyes and pouty bottom lip every night when you crawl into bed with him. he groans when you slide onto his chest, an innocent yet tempting look in your eyes.

"i wanna be a mama, toji." you say, seductive undertones of your voice making toji's cock throb. "you already are, hon." he answers with a chuckle when you playfully slap his chest. "you know what i mean!" you whisper yell, careful not to be too loud and wake the kids up. "wanna have a baby. gumi is getting soo big and i love him! but..."

toji smirks, his hands trailing down your hips and settling on your ass. "y'wanna have a baby?" he hums, lips finding your neck. "wanna be so full of me? have my kid in that belly of yours?" he bites back a moan when you grind on his quickly stiffening cock. you gasp when he suddenly flips you onto your back and looms overtop of you. "y-yes daddy please." your breathy little moan sets toji over the edge.

"anything for you, pretty girl..."

nanami kento

smart man, knows you're dying to have kids and isn't one to make you wait for almost anything in life. he's been away for a few days on a mission but you've been blowing up his phone about how much you miss him, and sending screenshots of ideas for decorating the nursery when the time comes.

he comes home from the mission with flowers and chocolate, greets you with a kiss at the door, and as soon as his hands are free, he scoops you up into his arms. "i'm ovulating..." you whisper into his ear, kissing down his jawline. nanami huffs a laugh. "you think i didn't know that, my darling?" he palms your asscheeks as he carries you to the bedroom. "you've been basically begging for a creampie since i got ready to leave." he drops you onto the mattress and follows quickly, already working on getting his pants undone.

you bite your lip, adrenaline starting to surge through you as nanami ignores the drawer where you keep the condoms. "you deserve that baby you've been so patiently waiting for, what a wonderful mother you'll be." he sighs as his raw cock pushes into your pleading pussy.

choso kamo

doesn't quite know how to react when you start making hints that you want children. he's caught off guard when you start showing him pictures of little baby shoes with cute pink bows all over them, but he can't deny that his body has a very physical and primal desire to fufill your wants. he's a family man, after all.

he wastes no time helping in tracking your cycle, wanting to take every possible chance in making your dreams a reality. he wants to see you pregnant again and again, bringing his first born as many siblings as you can both muster.

[macfrog]

I miss our beloved scom family. How are they doing this fine day?

god, i miss them too. here's what they probably got up to today.

something blue 3.6k words | series masterlist warnings: y'all know the drill: being a mom.

Sarah leads Ellie, the way she always does, into the kitchen at seven a.m. sharp.

She stops by Joel first, squeezes into his size at the counter, and pushes onto her tiptoes. When he sidesteps to let her see (even though he point-blank refused to let you), she wraps two arms tight around her sister and hoists her up.

“Pancakes!” the three-year-old squeals, and loses her grip on her plastic dinosaur. He falls headfirst into the counter.

“Shh!” Sarah hisses, slinging Joel a disgruntled look. She sighs and swipes the T-Rex from his hand.

“The heck you lookin’ at me for?” he grumbles.

The girls eye you the entire walk over to the table. One as suspicious as the other. Sarah moves smooth, floats over to her spot with her chin skyward.

Ellie thumps at her heels, staring you down and almost stumbling into a chair.

“Careful, Nel,” you whisper, and her poker face cracks. You turn to Sarah. “I know it’s pancakes. It’s the only thing your dad ever figured out how not to burn.”

Joel’s shoulders jump. He swallows the laugh in his chest and says nothing.

Ellie sucks the chocolate clean from her dinosaur’s head. Last week, she decided his name was Bill. You, Joel, and Sarah are still trying to figure out where the hell she came up with it. Whoever he’s named after, she doesn’t like him much – not with the rate she lobs him around.

Kid’s an enigma. She suits it just fine.

She stares at you, still, as Sarah helps her up into her chair. Judders forward with each shove under the table. Comical, the two of them; like Pinky and the fucking Brain, you once told Joel – though you’re still not sure who’s who.

Your eyes drop to a stain on the toddler’s outfit. “You want me to wash that yet, Gagarin?”

She looks down. An arm swishes up to dab at the tangerine splotch. She grins, amused with herself, and shoves the dino back between her gums.

Sarah shakes her head. She turns back to you and flashes a trademark Joel frown. Eight years old and somehow, she manages to encapsulate the same fifty-six-year-old, unimpressed glower.

“Nel,” she turns, uttering between teeth, “You can’t wear dirty clothes today, remember?”

“I don’t think spacesuits are allowed at preschool,” you sigh as you push yourself up. “Much too sophisticated – huh, baby girl?”

Ellie giggles and flings her arms to the ceiling, sending Bill in a somersault across the table. She’s in nothing but pull-ups underneath the onesie – although it’s rare for her to ever be in much more than her pull-ups and, usually, one loose sock.

The suit means she’s feeling fancy. But what the fuck for?

All of Sarah’s leftover chaos, the magic she left in your veins after she was born, seems to have poured into her little sister. Smaller, mightier – more reckless, but not half as savvy.

Rarely seen without one of her prehistoric pals in her fist; evidence of what she had for lunch smeared around her lips. Chasing after Sarah, after Shimmer, after a butterfly that found itself trapped in her bedroom last month.

She scaled a chest of drawers trying to reach it. Joel caught her just in time. Some nights in bed, you can still feel his heart pounding from the scare she gave him.

Chalk and cheese. Sarah and Ellie. The former calm, composed. Candid and levelheaded, book smart and (alarmingly) wise beyond her years.

The latter – well.

It’s her first time on the planet, too, you try to remember.

You wander over to the washer, tossing the suit into the drum. You dig an elbow into Joel’s side and he flinches.

“Can I see yet?”

He turns, shielding whatever’s in front of him with a wide shoulder. “Not yet, baby. Not done.”

“You’re taking fuckin’ forever,” you mumble, pressing the words into his shoulder blade. From the corner of your eye, you watch the girls babbling to each other, scratching Shimmer between her floppy ears.

Joel twists, still hiding with his hands, and dots a tiny kiss on the tip of your nose. He smells like coffee and toothpaste. It still dizzies you every time he’s near enough for you to breathe it in.

“I’m almost done. Promise.”

You steal a kiss from his lips and smirk, stepping away. “Okay,” your eyes drift down to the counter, “If you say s…Alphabet sprinkles?”

His jaw slackens, moves like a bubbling fish. “Uh – they’re for – they’re for somethin’…Duck?” he clears his throat, “Tell your mom what they’re for, would ya?”

Sarah freezes. She stammers just like her dad. She does a lot just like him.

“A…a…a school project,” she says, and stares down at the dog.

“A – a – a school project?”

Your daughter nods. Still fixed on the smudges of sable around Shimmer’s eyes. “Bake sale.”

“You never told me about any bake sale,” you cross your arms, “What’d you make?”

She’s quick as lightning. “Cupcakes. But we haven’t made ‘em yet. Tonight, right, Dad?”

Joel’s voice is hoarse with panic. “Tonight,” he rasps.

You lean back against the counter, eyes shifting to the right. A different tactic. A rogue tactic, that’s for sure, but she has her moments. “…Nel?”

Your youngest looks up from her belly button.

“Not Nel,” Joel pleads, catching your eye for half a second.

“Why not Nel?”

His voice drops. “That kid would spill a state secret if you dangled a marshmallow in front of her.”

You tsk. “That’s mean. And wrong, anyways. The reason they have state secrets is ‘cause of kids like her. We should be proud, Miller.”

Ellie’s clutching the dinosaur when you look back over, chewing on his tail. She blinks back, and you wonder if there’s anything other than mastermind plans of mischief behind her eyes.

Joel says she has the same look in her eye that you do. Like you’re in on something the rest of the world has yet to catch up on. Twins, from the moment she stumbled ass over foot out of your body.

She talks just like you, and acts just like you, and – some nights, chatting sleepy gibberish under the slow turn of her rocket ship nightlight – you figure she must think just like you, too.

The perfect little riot.

Joel nudges you away, whispering, “Go on,” and you snicker, pushing off.

The sun combs through the room, glinting off cutlery and radiating from your daughters’ smiles. They chat and giggle and kick their feet; Sarah blows raspberries and Ellie sprays saliva all over the table when she tries to copy.

This is life, now.

You used to wake up to a silent house, sip your coffee and watch the oven clock count down the minutes until you had to leave for work.

You used to keep the radio on, even when you were out back – just to feel like someone was home with you. You used to sing to yourself as you flicked every light off at the end of the night.

Now, the laughter lives in the walls. It echoes even when you’re home alone. The oven clock counts down until there’s another pair of smaller hands in yours; until your man’s arms are back around your waist where they belong.

Come nightfall, you pluck odd socks and toy cars from under the couch. You tuck your children into bed, nuzzle your nose into their cheeks. You curl up beside Joel and trace shapes into his palm.

I love you, you write, some nights.

Dickhead, on others.

It takes a village, they all say. And sure, sometimes it does.

Sometimes, though, all it takes is two neighbors, a handshake deal, and a little bump named Duck.

“Woah, Nellie,” Joel chuckles, setting the first plate down. He clicks his teeth and taps a light knuckle on the girls’ hands, locked in a death grip. “Play nice. I got yours here, too, kiddo.”

Ellie straightens immediately. She watches, eyes fixed and glasslike, as her own breakfast is presented to her. And then she breaks into a wide grin, cheeks swelling. Her heels thud thud thud on the legs of her chair.

You lean over, cocking your head to see.

Two stacks of fluffy pancakes – a healthy dollop of chocolate spread on Sarah’s, and Ellie’s drizzled in golden syrup. Shards of strawberry and slices of banana scattered over the towers; blobs of whipped cream like clouds.

And on top of each, in clumsy sprinkle letters: Duckie and Nellie.

Sarah grins, two front teeth brand new and beautiful. She picks up her cutlery and raps them against the table, a nervous jitter about her.

You realize, just as her eyes flicker across yours, that she’s not beaming at her pancakes.

You realize, as he sways over to your side, that she’s beaming at him.

He’s holding two more plates. He sets his own down, a messy crater carved into the chocolate.

Your brows pull. “What happened –?”

“Bill happened,” he scoffs, shooting Ellie daggers.

She’s too busy tearing her stack apart, mixing a paste from syrup and cooked batter. There are few things the kid loves more than food and mess – and nothing she loves more than both at the same time.

She looks out of her mind happy, smothering the glossy mixture all over her cheeks, chewing in contentment.

“Like ‘em?” Joel asks, and you glance up.

“Yeah,” you laugh, eyes welling, “I love them. What’s the occasion, Miller?”

“Just…” his head wobbles as he considers it, “…we wanted to ask you somethin’.”

You turn to Sarah.

She’s still smiling, wider than you’ve ever seen. So bright that you worry she might shatter the glassware on the table.

“We?” you ask, smiling much the same.

She gives nothing away, and yet, at the same time – everything. Her knee bounces with excitement. Her breathing quickens.

“You wanna read yours?” Joel asks, tilting the plate in his hand.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you sniff, “I’m scared.”

He lowers the plate.

The letters blur in and out of focus as you blink.

Red, green, yellow, pink. The second M is an upside-down W. The Rs lean into each other, chocolate pushing from the middle of the letters. A question mark crafted from a C and half of another letter.

Your lungs jump, though you knew it was coming. Though you’ve talked about it for months, now.

Let’s just get it outta the way, make it easier for the girls when we’re older. Few forms to fill out then it’s done. We don’t gotta make a big deal of it.

Can’t afford to make a big deal of it, anyway.

Wouldn’t want to make a big deal of it.

You’ve never been one for big deals.

This is a big deal. This is a big fucking deal, Joel.

All multicolored, flecks of whipped cream on them. Silly little alphabet letters.

Marry me?

Joel kneels as you swivel around to him. He kisses your cheek, takes your hands, rubs his thumbs across your knuckles.

“Look,” he says, voice trembling, “I know we said we wouldn’t make a big deal of it. But…you gotta let me make a big deal of it, honey. You gotta let me make a big deal of you.”

You laugh, tears spilling down the front of your shirt. Your heart is pounding, body alight with nerves or excitement or both, in one lightning bolt of feeling.

It’s everything you ever wanted, and nothing you ever expected.

“Everything I have –” Joel says, “– the kids, the house, the dog – I found it all with you. Because of you. I love you so much, and I can’t – I can’t take another minute that we’re not…”

His hands squeeze yours, and you swear you feel your pulses align. Beating together, two hearts on the same bassline.

He swipes the tears from your cheek, catches them in his palm. “…It don’t have to mean anything, I know that – but you, darlin’…you mean everything. What do you say we go do it?”

It’s the easiest thing in the world. And not just because you knew it was coming, knew to expect it soon enough.

Joel could’ve asked you the minute you found out you were pregnant with Sarah, and you reckon you would’ve said yes.

It’s easy. Loving him is so easy. Being with him is so fucking easy.

Coffee at sunrise, low volume TV in the bedroom. Skin and sheets, marks on your neck and chest and thighs. Laughter for breakfast, homework for dinner. Two bodies squeezing into one tiny shower cubicle, Joel’s hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles.

“Today,” you whisper, cupping his jaw. “I want to do it today.”

“Today?” his eyes flash over your shoulder to his daughters, “We gotta take the girls to –”

“No, we don’t,” your head shakes, “Do we have a marriage license?”

“Got it last week.”

“Then they come with. We get all dressed up, all four of us, and head down to the courthouse. We’re married by the end of the day.”

He laughs, loose and disbelieving. Shakes himself back into the room. “Today,” he repeats. “As in, right now?”

“Right now, baby.”

“Okay. Yeah, alright. Today.”

“Ask me.”

Joel’s cheeks lift. Tears disappear into his beard.

You lean forward, lining your forehead against his. “Ask me, Miller,” you whisper.

It’s no big deal. It’s a regular Wednesday. Packed lunches and dinosaurs with Nutella in their teeth.

It’s no big deal, but when he asks you, time stops.

“Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yeah, I will.”

Sarah takes forty-five minutes to apply your mascara, some powder, and a pink lip. She promises she’s being neat, and you tell her you don’t care – you’ll love it either way.

She says she knows, but she promises she is anyway.

Ellie curls up in your lap and twists your necklace around her fingers. She asks four times if her spacesuit is dry yet.

“Ellie,” Sarah warns – and you know it’s serious when she uses her sister’s real name – “You can’t wear a costume to a wedding.”

“Mama is!”

“No she ain’t! Brides are s’posed to wear white. Mama’s dress ain’t white. What you got on is fine,” she decides.

Ellie knows better than to keep arguing. She catches her heel in her hands, huffing. “Wanted to be an ass-traut.”

You catch Sarah’s eye. Don’t.

She bites her giggle.

“You are an astronaut,” you squeeze your toddler, “Our astronaut. Whether you’re in your spacesuit, or you got your big bare butt out for us all to see.”

She giggles into herself, a sound sweet enough to convince the sun to rise at dawn. Her baby teeth are small and wonky. She snorts, settles in your arms again, and watches Sarah lean in with the lipstick.

You lift your chin, holding steady. “Is Dad ready?”

She pauses, letting go of her breath. “He says he’s been ready the last half hour,” she mutters, and dabs more color on.

“Is he nervous?”

Her eyes lift. Eyelashes long and thick – black mascara that you made her pinkie swear she’d wipe clean the moment she gets home.

She smirks. It’s like looking in a mirror. “Are you?”

You press your lips together, blending the pink. “Little bit. You think that’s a good sign?”

“Mhm.”

Sarah straightens, capping the lipstick. She smiles at her masterpiece. “You look beautiful, Mama.”

“Well,” your chest fills, “I’m only beautiful ‘cause you made me that way, Duck.”

Joel’s voice sails upstairs and into the little pink room.

“Courthouse is closin’, sun’s almost down, they’re diggin’ my damn grave already. Are we good to go, or what?”

Sarah grins and leaps over an upturned toybox in the middle of her room. She pirouettes out to the landing, pursing and then smacking her lips together.

You fix Ellie’s skirt and lead her out after her sister. “’s go, Nellie.”

“Mama,” she tugs at the fabric, “I gotta…Need…need…”

“Shit,” you whisper, watching the ballerina twirl downstairs to her dad. “Uh…Duckie?”

“Hi, pretty Duck,” Joel calls, catching her in his arms. He spins her around and the skirt of her dress billows.

Her little heels click when he lets her down. She keeps on spinning, watching herself in the mirror.

“Baby?” Joel calls. “Y’all ready?”

“Nel’s gotta go!” you reply.

He scoffs. “She nervous or som’?”

“Or som’,” you sigh, walking the kid into the bathroom.

Ellie takes about as long as a three-year-old should, to be fair to her. It requires an amount of determination that right now, neither of you have the focus to lend it. Potty training doesn’t wait up, even for weddings.

Eventually, she announces with a triumphant shout that she’s done, Mama! – and claps her hands as the toilet flushes.

You carry her downstairs, heels clunking on the solid wood. At the bottom you set her free – and she sprints out to join her sister on the lawn.

The pair run circles around one another. They cartwheel on the grass; they race Shimmer and use the flowerbeds as hurdles. They dirty their dresses – ivory stained with bursts of green – though they look better that way, anyway.

They take turns playing Swingball with the only remaining racket (a mysterious disappearance that neither will own up to, and both are most certainly involved in). Sarah tells Ellie that she won – and the smaller girl throws her fists in the air and roars in victory.

Joel stands on the porch, hands in his pockets, watching. Even from behind, you can see the shape of his cheeks: he’s smiling. He crosses one foot over the other and taps his heel against the wood.

You emerge from the house slowly, quietly. “We didn’t get matching corsages this time,” you say, and he turns.

He starts, as though he glitches for a second. As though his world tilts on its axis, just from looking at you. His expression softens, his lips curve into a smile.

Then he breathes a laugh – a shaky thing, like he’s seventeen again, watching his homecoming date saunter over.

“That’s alright,” he replies, and slips a hand into his suit pocket. He fishes out two white tulips. “Remembered Alice dropped these off the other day. Here.”

Delicately, lighter than the breeze, he tucks the flower behind your ear. He steps back to admire his work, just like his daughter did.

All the best parts of you, you reckon, are the parts that are loved by them.

“How do I look?” you ask.

Joel sucks in a shattered breath. “Beautiful,” he chokes, like it’s all his voice will allow. He sniffs, drags his knuckles across the bottom of his nose, and says, “You ain’t never looked more beautiful.”

“Your turn.”

You take the second tulip from his fingers and drop it into his breast pocket, turning it until it looks perfect. “There,” you pat his chest, “Now we both look beautiful.”

He steps forward, dipping his head to kiss you. Arms around your waist, hands splayed on your back. He laughs against your lips. “Don’t think I don’t know what this is,” he mumbles, tugging at the pale material.

“It still fits!” you say, running a palm down the smooth silk. Flashes of light, a squealing guitar, heated kisses and a thudding bassline. It spins past your eyes as he leans in again.

He tastes the same. Less alcohol, sure – but that same, sweet-as-honey, instantly intoxicating taste. Like you were a goner before you even hit the mattress.

You look back up, and Joel’s eyes are on yours.

“After two kids, it still fits,” you whisper.

“Hm,” he muses, glancing down. His hands slip around your ass. “Looks even better than it did then, Mama.”

You laugh against his lips. “It’s my something blue.”

“Oh, yeah?” He lifts an eyebrow. “What else you got?”

“Well, something borrowed –” you hold your left hand up, a plastic ring glinting in the sunlight, “– Duck gave me some of her finest jewelry. Something new –” you wiggle your earlobe, “– Mother’s Day earrings, and…something old…”

Joel tilts his head. His expression tightens, tightens, tightens – until he understands. He clicks his teeth and steps back. “Funny. You’re so funny, I ever tell you that?”

You giggle, letting him drag you across the porch. “I’m just bein’ realistic, man. What else do I got that’s as old as you?”

He ignores you. It makes you laugh even harder.

It always did.

The wind surfs through silk, lifting your skirt as you stride over the driveway. Your hands stay interlocked – and you know that, secretly, Joel’s as nervous as you.

He whistles and his daughters look up.

“Serena, Venus,” he calls, nodding to the truck. “Get in.”

They skip over. Sarah takes her dad’s hand – the picture of royalty as he aids her up into the backseat – and Ellie swings into your arms.

You strap them in, point fingers to warn them not to bicker, and climb in the front.

The doors slam closed and you exhale slowly. Two kids aren’t any more complicated than one – especially in yours and Joel’s case – but holy shit, they’re tiring.

They compare dresses in the backseat. What color is yours, Duck? Pink, Nel. Is mine’s pink, Duck? Yours is yellow, Nel.

Joel’s hand slips around your knee. He smiles. Gives your leg a little squeeze. He flicks the radio on, and an Eagles track sways through the cabin. He fixes the tulip in your hair, peppers kisses along your wrist.

His voice is as soft as Henley’s, when he asks –

“Wanna go to a wedding?”

[yandere-writer-momo]

I just wanted to make something cute. Something about yandere platonic Pickle gets me going

@fangurlzrul3 and I were talking in discord about giving Pickle Dino nuggies with honey bbq sauce the other day so I decided to make some cute head canons

Yandere Baki Head Canons

Teaching Pickle the modern way of living (platonic)

Pickle x researcher reader

Pickle

Now being Pickle’s caretaker wasn’t something you ever expected to be, but here you were… taking care of Pickle

You wouldn’t look Pickle in the eye for the longest time in fear that he’d attack you so you’d hand him little trinkets to get him to leave you be. His favorite was a little bell you handed him. You’d hear him jingling in the other room

But as time went on, Pickle became more comfortable around you.

Pickle sits in the doorway of the lab and just stares at you. He’s kind of like a cat or a dog with his curiosity

Pickle brings you small gifts he finds around the lap. A bottle cap, a mouse trap, and some paper clips have found their way into your desk drawer for you ‘Pickle collection.’ You didn’t have the heart to throw anything away that he gave you

Pickle would stare longingly at your lunches so you began to share your meals with him. Pickle loves the little octopus shaped sausage and he was especially fond of chicken nuggets

Pickle is a chicken nugget fiend. He will eat all of them from your lunch, even the crumbs

You introduce him to honey mustard and honey barbecue sauce and he’s starstruck. Pickle begins to love eating. He comes over to you and points at his mouth every time he sees you

Pickle hates vegetables. He spits them out every time. Even if you cover them in sauce, he will spit them out (and suck off the sauce)

Pickle loves candy and sweet! He adores cotton candy and bubble gum. It took him awhile to figure it out, but now he knows how to blow bubbles. You always hear them popping when you walk past him

You give Pickle a spoonful of nut butter (specifically peanut butter) whenever you need to get your paper work done. He will sit on his haunches and lick at the roof of his mouth for a couple minutes

You’ve tried introducing toys to him but he doesn’t understand. Pickle eats the checkers, chess pieces, cards, and even the hot wheel cars. He’s a monster

Pickle threw the baby doll you gave him across the room when it started crying so you ruled out interactive toys too

[thylacines-toybox]

Major shelf shuffle! I decided to swap the long standing Dino Zone with my Australian animal collection, giving them more space to spread out, and changed a lot of displays on this half of the room.

Really happy to see the Aussie animals more on display, and it's nice to have them right under the thylacine shelves! It's funny how the Tassie devil corner is just a dark shadowy place too lol. Synapsid space is down below them! You may spot that one dinosaur managed to stay on this shelf, because she is Australian too.

Since I also decided to get rid of my fish tank (don't worry, all fish had lived full lives and it was vacant for a while) I had more free space to the left side too. So I decided to move the little set of drawers up there (full of bones and such...) and make a nice skully naturey display on top. Not much of a theme to the animal figures in front, just a few I like!

And off to the left of that, Pawface is getting to hang out by my galaxy projector light and some tiny drawers of rocks and trinkets. Ink (the black, one eyed creature) is out to play for the first time in a while too!

The dinosaurs and other prehistoric guys are doing fine and only a few needed to be put away! They've got the two lower left shelves, and the lowest shelf even has a bit of a rainbow going on.

[xvmgnhao]

Brat.

Mingyu x reader. (s)

Synopsis: Mingyu gets a little to cocky for your liking.

You walk into the practice room swiftly frowning slightly as Mingyu comes into your line of sight. You start to make your way over to him. You catch eyes with Dino causing his eyes to widen slightly.

“Angry looking Y/N 3 o’clock.” Dino say jabbing Mingyu with his elbow.

You finish walking to him standing in front of him arms length away. You look up to see him smiling down at you with a devious look in his eyes

“Babe what you doing here?” Mingyu says chuckling lightly.

“You weren’t answering my calls or texts for days Mingyu.” You say furrowing your eyebrows.

“I’ve been busy you know that.” He says tapping your arm like you’re a friend of his with the same smug smile on his blush colored lips.

“No you weren’t because I have your location and it says you were at the dorms for two days.” You say poking him in the chest.

“Can we just handle this later? I don’t want to aurgue in front of my friends.” He says dismissively waving his hand at you turning around to continue conversing with the group.

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Fuck you Mingyu. Don’t except anything from me after this.” You say angrily pushing him with your strength causing him to stumble.

You storm off quickly heading back to your apartment

*Few hours later

You sit quietly in your apartment reading your book. You suddenly hear your front door unlock.

Knowing it’s Mingyu you stand to walk to the door frame of your bedroom. You lean against the door frame watching as he locks the door with his back facing you.

He turns around and shy smile makes it way onto his handsome face.

“Hey baby.” He says starting to walk toward you cautiously.

“I wanna apologize. Im sorry for how I acted in front of my friends and how I ignored you. I was just trying to get back at your for the argument we had the other day. I felt like you were super dismissive about my fe-” Mingyu was cut off by you slapping him across the face.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Go to the room now Mingyu.” You spat at him.

You look into his eyes to see them well up with tears. He shuffles into the room quickly and you can hear the bed creek softly as he settles on the bed.

You walk into the kitchen and rummage through the utensil drawer. You finally find the wooden spoon.

You go back to the room. You find Mingyu sitting still looking down at his lap.

“Pants off and lay on your stomach Mingyu.” You say sitting on the bed as he stands.

“But Y/N please.” Mingyu say pulling down his pants and laying flat on his stomach across the bed

“My name is not Y/N. What’s your safe word?” You say rubbing his butt gently.

“Bubblegum.” He says burying his into the sheets.

“Good boy.” You say smirking slightly. “How many do you want Mingyu?”

“Zero Y/N.” Mingyu sitting up.

“That’s not my name.” You say bringing the spoon down on his ass. “Say my name Mingyu.”

“Y/N.” He says shivering visibly.

You bring down the spoon harshly in a series of 3 smacks.

“Fuck.” Mingyu grunts out bracing himself. “Y/N please.”

You bring the spoon down 5 more times. Mingyu cry’s out loudly.

“Mommy please Im sorry.” He says defeatedly.

“There you go my sweet boy only 10 more to go.” You say smiling devilishly up at him.

One

Two

Three

You continue on with your assault on him. Reveling in the sound of his pathetic whimpers, whines, and cries for mercy.

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Before you could land the 8th smack on him Mingyu’s hands shoots back wrapping around your wrist tightly.

“Please Mommy no more. I can’t.” Mingyu cried with his head turned back to you.

“Oh honey. I’ll give you a choice. You can take these last few spankings and I’ll make you feel really good or we can stop with the spanking but you won’t be able to cum.” You says smiling at him.

“Second option please.” Mingyu squeaks out weakly.

“Lay down on your back.” You say standing and going over to your dresser.

You open your drawer and pull out cock ring. You walk to the side of the bed placing the cock ring on your nightstand.

“Why the cock ring Mommy?” Mingyu whines frustrated.

“You know why. You agreed to this.” You say sitting on the edge of the and carding your through his dark hair.

You stand and slide off your sleep shorts quickly. You grab the cock ring and climb on the bed. You sit on Mingyu chest watching his swollen cock bob against his stomach.

You take hold of his length. Stroking it a few times firmly. You spit into your hand rubbing it onto his cock.

You take the cock and slide it down his length painfully slow. Giggling lightly to yourself after hearing Mingyu’s groan.

You get on your feet backing up so you hover over his face. Mingyu moans at the warmth radiating from your cunt.

“Are you okay down there?” You question looking down at him.

“Yes Mommy. Am I allowed to touch you?” He says panting softly.

“Yes that’s fine.” You say lowering your heated core down on his mouth.

Your cunt makes contact with his wet tongue causing you to moan softly.

“Make me cum baby and maybe I’ll help.” You say breathlessly.

Mingyu’s hands shoot up to grab your soft body anchoring you down on his mouth.

You feel his tongue slither to your hole sliding in with minimal resistance.

You rock back and forth causing your clit to brush against his prickly chin. Your hips buck gently feeling shock of pleasure crawl up your spine.

“You’re so good baby. Keep making me feel good.” You say rocking your hips feverishly on his mouth.

Mingyu hands creep up your body cupping your breasts in his big hands. Squeezing them gently he pulls your cunt impossibly closer to his tongue.

The lewd squelch on your cunt sends you over the edge as Mingyu continues to fuck you on his tongue. Coming undone in his mouth with soft loans of his name.

Coming down from your orgasm you slump down onto his torso. Rolling off of him a few minutes later.

You sit up to see Mingyu trying to lick the rest of your slick from his chin.

“How was I Mommy?” He said smiling at me.

“Good. So good baby.” You says rubbing his arm.

“Does that mean I get to cum?” Mingyu says hopefully.

“No.” You say laughing loudly.

I didn’t know how to end it so…yeah.

Let me know if you guys liked it and send requests please!!

[eoieopda]

[svt as fuckboi archetypes]

disclaimer: don’t take it seriously. i was having a convo. with my sister about my truly tragic dating history, and now we’re all going to hold hands n process it together.

seungcheol: big “air mattress on the floor” energy. his gaming set-up is expensive and immaculate, but he’ll be goddamned if he spends a dime on — idk — a bed frame, for example. don’t sit on his chair, though, because it’s specifically angled for his lumbar-support needs.

jeonghan: the “i quit” dude at the show who still consistently asks to bum both a cigarette and a light. you’re not getting that lighter back, and he will not, in fact, “get you back” for the uber back to yours or the take-out he weasels out of you on the way. he’ll charm you out of caring about it, too :’(

joshua: it’s giving “anyway, here’s wonderwall”. why did he even bring his guitar to this party? you don’t know, and you’re not gonna ask because the answer will make you want to fuck him less, and you really, really want to fuck him.

junhui: the one that passes out immediately after sex, leaving you trapped in that “….should i…. leave? is staying…. fine?” liminal space. he wakes up in the middle of the night, wakes you up, and informs you that you chose wrong and “should probably head out” because he has to work in the morning.

wonwoo: the one that turns every conversation into a debate. you may have a literal degree in xyz, but he is serving fresh takes™️, so listen up, diva! the dick game is god-tier, though, so you’re just going to mentally replace the sound of his voice with a different muppet’s in every conversation and wait for him to shut up <3

soonyoung: the house guest!!! he’s going to miss every single hint you drop about wanting to sleep alone. he’s going to leave a sweatshirt in your drawer so he can be comfortable next time. he doesn’t do “one-night-stands”; he does residencies. hope you didn’t have other plans this weekend :/ (eta: i wrote a fic based on this head canon — sweatshirt season, posted 10/29/23 — which you can read here!)

woozi: he asks if he can say “i love you” during sex because it gets him hot, and then he later informs you that you can no longer hook up because things are “moving too fast”.

dokyeom: you’ve been hooking up for a few weeks, and now he’s babbling about wanting to go to xyz place with you at some point in the distant future. he says it like he’s deadass about it, then looks at you funny if you ask him to get drinks tomorrow night. good luck, charlie!

mingyu: the stage-five clinger. he’s never had a fuck buddy before, and it shows. he has no idea what this dynamic is supposed to be despite a) suggesting it in the first place, b) numerous conversations about it, and c) repeated affirmations that he isn’t looking for a relationship. but he’s PRETTY, okay??

minghao: halley’s comet has nothing on this mf. he dm’s you once a year, you have the best night of your life, then he is gone girl for the next 364. you and your friends have a bet going in the group chat to see how many consecutive months he’ll leave you on read.

seungkwan: the one that has never — not even once — asked you a personal question. that’s not to say he doesn’t talk; he never stops. you’ve learned everything about him (his home phone number from childhood, the names of all his coworkers + his thoughts about them), against your will. frankly, you’re not sure if he even remembers your name atp because he relies exclusively on a generic pet name.

vernon: he talks a big game about meeting up, missing you, etc., but when the plans are laid, he “fell asleep, i’m so sorry, i’m just now seeing this!! :(” you washed your hair for this? rip.

dino: the foster puppy!!! he’s an emotionally unavailable, certifiable mess when you get him. you clean him up, train him, and the second he gets his shit together, he’s off. he’s found his forever home, and he’s coincidentally getting married on your birthday. sorry, bestie!!

[rottenpumpkin13]

Do you think Sephiroth would be a fan of nostalgic childhood foods? Like hotpockets or mac n cheese? Since he never got to have those in his childhood

He craves them every time his friends discuss their favorite foods: Angeal’s descriptions of his mother’s homemade mac and cheese, Zack’s frozen dino nuggets and PB&J sandwiches, and Genesis’ chocolate pudding and sugary cereal (especially the kind with Sephiroth action figures). Sephiroth feels a bit left out, so he decides to try them all.

*Zack opens a cupboard in Sephiroth's kitchen*

Zack: Man! I've never seen so many boxes of rice krispie treats in my life!

Sephiroth: I'm healing my inner child.

*Angeal pulls open the fridge*

Angeal: Sephiroth, why do you need 50 chocolate pudding cups??

Sephiroth: I'm healing my inner child.

*Genesis pulls open a drawer*

Genesis: What are you going to do with 80 packets of gold fish crackers??

Sephiroth: Heal my inner child.

Angeal, looking under the sink: WHERE DID YOU EVEN BUY THIS MANY RAMEN NOODLE CUPS?

Zack: Are they also to heal your inner child?

Sephiroth: No, I buy those weekly. They’re an integral part of my diet and happiness.

Zack:

[atozfic]

a twist of the knife.

pairing. ghostface!wooyoung x fem!reader. synopsis. halloween night and you're all alone, boyfriend far from home. you've got plans- big plans- with a fully charged vibrator and a phone. what a shame you forget to check the number before picking up. warnings. slasher fic! pwp, daddy kink, noncon cheating, noncon (don't like it? don't bite it!), masturbation (f&m), sex-toys, degradation, name-calling, dirty talk, knife kink?, mask kink!, implied stalking, mentions of murder word count. 4.6k hyde’s input. listen, kids, sometimes mother (me) can't serve a three coursed meal, ok? sometimes, all mother (me) can serve are dino-nuggies and overcooked chips. just eat your meal and flush your shit when you're done (aka, this is lazy writing and i'm not 100% satisfied with this fic but i'm also too tired to try harder i'm sorry &lt;3)

truth be told, you’ve started without him.

you’d waited, a whole twenty minutes longer than you were supposed to.

twenty two minutes and you sent a text.

babe?

the message was delivered.

no reply came your way.

another text, from you.

i should be naked by now :(

and then another.

come make me cum, u loser.

and a final message, once more from you.

or i’ll get someone else to do it &lt;3

minutes passed, no reply came, and you stayed true to your word.

technically.

because, technically, nowhere does it say you can’t be that someone else who makes you cum.

spread on your bed, body draped in pretty black lace, only the light of a single lamp- a cheesy plastic jack-o-lantern bought by your dearest boyfriend- to shadow your movements.

the shadow dances in time with the fingers that brush down your soft skin, the drag of your sharpened nails bringing a thrilling chill down your spine.

your fingers settle, at last, on your heaving chest. they slide over the delicate fabric, scratch at the skin beneath. graze over one of your nipples, and pause.

you try to mimic his movements, memorise the perfectly choreographed routine he uses to drive you wild.

it’s hard to achieve, no matter how much you pinch and roll the hardening bud between your fingers, when your hands are not his.

too soft, too textured.

too small, too big.

too everything.

you miss the brush of his hardened fingertips, and the callous ways in which he teases you. and his gravel-deep, chocolate-smooth voice, echoing soliloquies of filth. and his thinly-dipped hips, flowing with yours in a demonstration of true poetry in motion.

suddenly, your ire grows tenfold.

because damn him for being miles away, partying in a city you’ve never been.

and damn his friends for suggesting the “boys” trip.

and damn him even more for agreeing to go and leaving you all alone.

it works in your favour, this ire, stealing away a pinch of the guilt from not waiting on him and replacing it with a heavy dose of vengeful craving.

you’d asked him to spend halloween with you house-sitting your childhood home, he made plans with his friends instead.

he’d asked you to let him see the first time you cum tonight, you’re making plans with your mirror instead.

opening your bedside drawer, you blindly reach in and find what you’re looking for: a pretty, soft, purple rabbit. it’s fully charged, in preparation for the night your boyfriend had promised you.

a night he’s now thirty six minutes and four texts late to.

you shimmy yourself further down the bed, till your feet dangle off the edge and the reflected version of you is positioned at just the right angle to witness the gathering wetness between your thighs, dampening the overpriced panties.

spreading your legs a little wider, you press the bunny to life.

in pulsing rhythms, it vibrates in your grasp, teasing the pleasure it aims to deliver as soon as you place it against your core.

instead, you switch it off.

decide you’re not ready yet.

he wouldn’t be ready yet.

a teaser, he’s a man who takes pleasure in watching you squirm, plead, beg for something, anything.

the mere memory of your boyfriend is enough to have your hips rolling up against the air, nothing but the squeeze of the fabric against your cunt to soothe the burn. a finger,  middle- always the middle-, slips past your lips.

welcoming it, you feel it growing wetter at your touch, swirling your tongue around it.

your eyes fall shut. you try to picture him and his pretty-boy grin, remember just the way he likes it.

get daddy’s fingers nice and wet, pretty girl.

that’s what he’d say, because that’s what you are.

his pretty girl.

the prettiest girl.

pathetic and for your ears only, a whimper falls as you pluck your hand from your mouth. skipping over the part where he tortures you with feather-like brushes of his hands down your body, blunt ends of his nails scratching up goosebumps and leaving behind thing trails of red markings, you instead shoot directly for your core.

in the mirror, your legs inch a little wider and your teeth latch onto your bottom lip as the contrasting chill of your hand cups over the burning heat of your cunt. the scratch of red lace between your skin grows your arousal by tenfold, the cooling wet of your saliva slickened finger pressing the soaked fabric against your dripping seam.

you push a little more, hooking the tip of your finger at your entrance and squirm as the lace pinches tighter at your hips, digging marks into your skin that you’ll later compare to the one’s he so often leaves.

in the orange hue of your room, you let your mind trail off once more as you shift to sit up, knees pressing into the mattress, legs bent backwards and both feet tucked under the swell of your ass.

the image in the mirror is pure pornography: your hair still damp from an earlier shower, red lace covering pretty skin, nipples poking out against the fabric of your bra, your manicured nails resting at the apex of your thighs, teasing their way over soaked panties.

you look hot.

fuckable.

eyes slipping shut briefly, the image of him conjures behind you. his broad chest pressed against your back, his large hands roaming over your waist, his soft lips pressing indecencies into your neck.

as quickly as it appears, it disapeears, and your eyes reopen to the reality of your lonely bedroom and your lonely bed, no one upon it but you.

and the purple toy.

it’s in your grasp in a count of three seconds- no less- and buzzing to life with the delicate press of a button.

in the mirror, your thighs clench.

loneliness leads to anger leads to action, readjusting your legs a little wider and guiding the pulsating toy over your lower stomach and inching it’s way down, down, down under the hem of the expensive thong.

a fire stroked to life, the heat that comes along in the initial seconds of pleasure has your spine shooting up straight, knees digging further into the springs of the mattress as your clit welcomes the new feeling pulsing against it.

watching as your reflection cants her hips up, chasing after the waves delivered by the toy, you set to find a rhythm in all your blues.

you push aside the fact this should be your boyfriend’s mouth on your cunt, tongue lapping at your clit and fingers burrowing in between your clenching walls, and not some rubber toy.

you ignore the inherent shyness and discomfort that comes with watching yourself in this position, making eye-contact in the mirror as you fantasise about another pair of hands.

you lay to rest the stress that no contact from your boyfriend brings you, a sting of tears threatning you if you let your mind wander too far into the attrocities of life, the attrocities riddling your college campus over the past few months.

a senior, stabbed to death in his dorm.

a freshman, found discarded at the side of the road.

your friend, wide-eyed and lifeless, slumped against your bed in your dormroom-

no.

you press at the toy again, it’s pulses grow more intense, more rapid, full throttle on your pleasure till it clouds you in that heady scent of sex and drowns you in the need for release.

just as you grow closer by the minute, the sweetest little whines making their way past your bitten lips, your ringtones blairs.

loud, and clear.

it’s murder on the dancefloor, familiar lyrics echo in the small room, screen lighting up behind you. you’d better not kill the groove, dj gonna burn this goddamn house-

you don’t look, just grab blindly at where you’d left it, tossed aside and forgotten in your frustration.

hit accept, press the phone to your ear and wait.

to hear his apology, his excuses, his ways to make it up to you.

but there’s only breathing.

heavy breathing.

it reminds you of your own, thighs still shaking and the toy still faintly brushing over your slick coated clit.

“took you long enough,” you’re the first to break the ice, praying you don’t sound as shaky as you feel.

a huh rings down the line, grainy. poor signal.

he must still be out, you figure.

“i thought you’d never call,” you’re pouty, purposeful in you approach to teasing him before you deliver a killing-blow to his ego: you’ve started without him. “and i was getting so lonely.”

for effect, you press on the button again, listen as the toy gets louder as it vibrates more intensely, waves rippling your skin even as you pry it back from your clit, enjoying it’s pleasure only in the way it moves against your panties.

you wonder if he hears it too.

you want him to hear.

there’s a sharp inhale, spanning a handful of seconds and leaving you with the imagery of his head falling back, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

it says nothing, yet everything.

he’s frustrated.

he’s chastising.

he’s turned on.

“why’d you make me wait, daddy?” you say it and hope it hits a nerve. hope he’s squirming in his seat, surrounded by his friends and praying not a single one notices the tent being pitched in his pants. “that wasn’t very nice of you.”

you give an experimental roll of your hips, feeling the buzzing toy nudge against you once more, coaxing back to life the orgasm you’d let down.

a dramatised gasp leaves your mouth, aiming for him to take notice of it and just think about what you’re doing to yourself.

“no,” he finally talks and you hate how quickly your anger is to melt away, one foul swoop of his smooth voice and you melt into a puddle, waiting to be splashed around by him. “wasn’t nice of me at all, was it?”

the toy between your legs continues to hum away, coaxing you to try another roll, dip your hips down onto it.

a moan- admitedly, a bit exagerated- fills the room.

there’s no doubt he heard it.

“you sound a bit weird, baby,” in the mirror, you watch yourself tilt your head to the side, pressing the phone between your ear and your shoulder. it frees up your other hand to roam freely over your breasts, rolling one of your nipples through the lace. “is the connection bad?”

he doesn’t answer.

down the line, you pick up on more heavy breathing.

it makes you long harder for him, visualising him there, pressed up against you, heavy breathing in your ear as the tension builds between you, culminating in the buckling of your knees and the grabbing of your ass, propping you up at his desired height to pile-drive his cock into you.

in a desperate appeal for his attention, you dip the vibrator lower, pressing it’s nub against your opening, squealing at the foreign intrusion.

“d’you hear that, daddy? my pussy’s all wet,” a filthy squelch rings true as you replace the toy with your finger, squeezing it’s way into your hole. “she’s all tight with no one to stretch her out.”

the possibility that you’re setting feminism back by several centuries crosses your mind, but it’s quickly pushed aside for images of your boyfriend forcing you onto all-fours and taking you from behind, pulling at your hair to force you to stare straight ahead at the very same mirror that used to display you playing dress-up as a little girl, now displaying the way you’re sweaty and defiled.

“now, that’s just not true, pumpkin,” his voice tuts down the phone, and the disapproving tone is enough to have you slipping a second finger into your cunt. “and no one likes a liar.”

if you weren’t knuckles deep in yourself, fingers scissoring you open as you give the occasional brush of the buzzing toy over your clit, maybe you’d know what he was talking about.

instead, all you can muster is a breathless what.

“c’mon, pretty, i’ve seen that video of you taking it like a champ. stretched that slutty pussy out on all ten of those bright pink inches.”

oh.

oh.

truth be told, you wondered if he’d even seen that video you’d sent him, all shy and bashful, wanting to show off the new toy you’d gotten yourself. he’d merely reacted with a heart- and then never once brought it up, ever again.

“are you going to keep me waiting?”

you should say yes.

tell him it’s his punishment, for ignoring your texts, and partying too late, and not being beside you on the bed.

but you’re a sucker for him, caving in at his rougher than usual tone.

scurrying off your mattress, you press the phone closer to your ear and listen to the rustling of fabric on his end.

a zipper is undone.

it’s followed by a sigh of relief, one that has you picturing him freeing his cock from the confines of his too-tight jeans.

“chop, chop, pretty! i’m losing my patie-”

“i found it!” you exclaim, louder than you should.

but who cares, when you’ve got your hand wrapped around the bright pink dildo, pride flushing over your face.

“so you can fetch,” he mutters it. it’s hard to hear him, really, but you don’t want to complain. don’t want to risk him hanging up and leaving you high and dry- well, high and wet. “good to know you’re good for something.”

it’s addictive, his passiveness, coaxing you to squeeze your thighs together.

your panties are sticky with your own residue, your nipples are hard within their circumferential coffins, your fingers are soaked as they grip the pulsing toy.

you’ve still not turned it off.

“now, sit yourself down in front of that mirror and show daddy how you ride it.”

you’re across the room in a matter of seconds, slipping down so easily onto your knees, right in front of the floor-length mirror. pressing the dildo down on the ground, you listen as the suction cup sticks it in place, standing bright, and pink, and tall.

“i’m-” the call drops before you can finish your sentence.

you’re left in silence, once more, humming down the line.

it doesn’t last, phone screen lighting up once more.

only, this time, it’s a face-time call.

you waste no time on patience, blindly hitting accept and admiring the way you come in to view, back camera on and pointed directly at the your reflection.

you’re on display, down on your knees and awaiting his next command.

tearing your ego away from the small square you occupy on the screen you audibly whine at the view from his camera.

lowlights, casting shadows around him.

his head is out of frame, camera angled down onto his body.

his clothing is all black- his jeans, his t-shirt, the ring that sits round his index finger-, the only splash of colour coming from his tanned hand, curled around the base of his cock.

tugged out of his jeans, it’s red at the tip and leaking precum.

this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him this way, obviously, yet something is different.

something you like.

something that has your mouth watering and your tastebuds begging to taste the tangy, salty drip of his seed smeared all over them.

“well? get on with it, pretty girl,” tonight, he’s arrogant. demanding. “don’t quit while you’re ahead.”

staring forward, you make eye contact with yourself as you gather up the saliva in your mouth and let it drip down on to the plastic tip sitting in front of you. your free hand’s quick to wrap itself around the toy, soaking itself in your spit and working it’s way down the toy’s shaft, slickening the silicone.

on the screen, his own hand imitates yours, giving himself a slow stroke. it’s accompanied with a pleased hum.

“fucking look at you, a goddamn natural at touching cock,” his praise warms your heart and speeds up your hand, another glob of spit falling down onto the dildo, getting it prepped to nestle it between your thighs. “it’s what slut’s like you live for, ain’t it? taking it from anyone who’ll give it.”

god, you want to say no. you really do.

but you’re hardly in a position to argue your case, soaked panties and heaving chest, willing to do just about anything he asks of you.

“don’t be shy, c’mon, let me see how good that little pussy of yours is.”

inching yourself closer, knees dragging on the floor below, you grind against the pink toy, eyes rolling back as it brushes between your panty-clad folds, nudging at your clit.

“move them to the side,” miles away, and resigned to merely your cellphone, he puppets you, invisible strings tethered between his voice and your hands, willing and ready to move anyway he commands them too. “wanna watch you take it.”

you do as he says. hook your fingers into the red lace, slide it to one side and ignore the way it digs and scratches into your skin, bunched up tight against it.

first, you make sure you're in view, hand as steady as it can be and pointed straight ahead at the mirror.

then, you let yourself sink down.

take just the tip, feel it prod at your entrance and stretch you open, a greedy cunny willing to fit anything and everything to get the sweet release of friction.

you suck a breath in through your teeth, let it out through your nose.

in earnest, you’d forgotten the sheer girth of the toy and, eyeing your reflection and witnessing the offensively pink silicone cock beneath you fills you with a trickle of regret.

the plan this evening was just to use your vibrator and trusty fingers, not stretch yourself open beyond sense.

then again, the plan this evening had been for him to call you nearly three quarters of an hour earlier, blushy cheeked and wide-eyed, smiling down at you through his camera.

“pft, that’s pathetic,” he scoffs from within your phone screen, hand no longer working over his length. it rests, instead, beneath his balls, toying with the skin and rolling the heft of them over his veined hands. “you’re pathetic. ‘s that all you’re gonna take, huh?”

you take it like a challenge, just like he knew you would.

smoothing your free hand over your thigh, you feel the rigid muscles beneath and will them to relax, let go, give in to need to be full. moments later, you watch in the mirror as you sink further down on the toy.

it’s hard to recognise yourself this way and it sparks questions of if this is how he sees you, all dressed up and messed up, lips swollen at the hands of your own teeth, lashes damp with your own tears.

you really are the prettiest girl.

“tick-tock, time’s moving. keep going.”

as you sink down on the rest of the toy, heart in your throat as all your nerves spark ablaze, your eyes are on him, watching in grainy picture as he delicately runs his finger up the underside of his cock. he traces a vein and it has him jolting, a whimpered laugh quietly playing through your speakers.

“that’s it, knew you could do it for me,” it really is all for him, his praise merely a consequence of your compliance. “good to know you’re not a complete brain-dead idiot.”

the heat of your childhood bedroom is stiffling, choking you on it’s syrupy air, the heady stench of lust dancing up to your nostrils.

you wonder if his surroundings are the same: clammy, sex-smelling, erotic.

"tell me how it feels," he demands.

"full," is all you manage, head slumping forward and granting you the view from above of your puffy lips, squeezing around the toy’s base.

“for a slut like you? that’s nothing.”

he’s tempting you, cock on full display on your phone-screen.

it has you salivating, walls clenching around the pink silicone.

you’ve never wanted him so bad, needed him so bad.

in your hand, in your mouth, in you.

cock-hungry and touchstarved, you whine his name and beg for something you’ve yet to even understand.

all that you know is you need him, all of him, and you need him to feel the same.

“what’re you waiting for, an invitation?” oh, he growls, voice scratching on his ire and desperation. it’s spine-tingling. “start fucking the toy, princess.”

the first thrust is the deepest.

lifting yourself right off the toy, feeling the over-exaggerated tip of it resting between your folds, you sink back down with a single slam of your hips, hand jutting forward to grab at the mirror.

fingerprints on the glass, you try not to think about how you’ll have to clean it later.

“‘s that all you got?” he’s mean tonight, you think, his praise far more scarce than you’re used to. usually, you take an inch and he’s ready to throw you a parade. you like this side, though, like the fight for approval. “i’ve seen nuns take it faster than that.”

it’s hypochondria.

it’s a simile.

it’s symbolism.

it’s a lie.

but you let it get to you, let it fester down into your loins and build itself a nest within, infecting your bloodstream with it’s elusive possibilities.

you come down on the toy again, and follow it up with another quick lift of your hips, your own slick leaving it’s shiny residue on the dildo as you watch it slide out of you.

when you glance at the screen, you can see he’s started stroking his cock, shameless and unfiltered moans and whimpers coming from somewhere off screen.

usually, he’s a groaner, a grunter, snuffing out his little noises with presses of his lips to your skin, and teeth piercing into flesh.

this is another welcomed change.

matching the rhythm of his wrist, you begin to ride the plastic cock in earnest, letting yourself get lost in the fantasies of him beneath you, hands pawing at your waist and fingernails indenting your delicate skin.

his filth riddled rambles continue on, lyrics to the symphony of music created as you play yourselves like instruments, plucking the right string and stroking the right chord to make your music play.

“that’s it, pretty, fill that greedy pussy up.”

his hand speeds up.

your wrists chase to catch up.

“dirty slut, answering calls while she’s touching herself.”

up, and down.

and up, and down.

you’re fighting the muscle cramp in your thigh, and willing yourself to get rid of that hyper-aware conscious of yours, surrender yourself to ebb and flow of electric currents taking hold of your senses.

“just desperate for anyone to see you like this, aren’t you?”

you’re not even aware of your own head nodding, or the chants of yes, yes, yes that you’re giving.

you’re just living for the drag of the toy, in and out, filling you to the brim.

the reflection paints a portrait, an artwork for any eyes who dare witness. messy hair, running mascara, smeared lipstick. panties pushed aside, cunt on display, tits bouncing in lace confines each time your hips fall back down.

you watch as this sex-goddess version of you reaches out her hand, grasping fingers at the rabbit and bringing a burst of purple to the space between your thighs.

there’s no care to fix the setting, just a squeeze of a button and away you go, vibrator pressed to your clit as you fuck yourself on the toy again, and again, and again.

he hums in approval, calls you his smart slut, and you keen at his words, eyes glazing over with tears.

it’s all becoming too much.

too overwhelming.

you’re ready to crash and burn, open the floodgates to hell and throw yourself into the lakes of pleasure.

“hmm, pretty girl, y’know red really is your colour,” he’s embarrassingly more composed than you are. not a shake in his breath, not a stutter to his words. just the occasional moan, and the visible tightening of his fingers around his cock. “i’d love to see you dripping in it.”

everything comes crashing inwards. the length of the toy, ramming into you each time your hips crash down on it; the buzz of the vibrator, rippling your skin and stealing your sense; the erotic display of him, legs spread wide as he fucks up into his hand, tiny flecks of precum staining his skin. it’s all too much stimuli, sending you full throttle of the edge of reality.

you cum with a gasp, a cry, a shiver down your spine and a bust of warmth between your legs. like raging waters, the feeling flows, and crashes, and stains everything in it’s soaking madness.

it’s on your thighs, on the floor, even on the mirror, visual evidence of a climax you never knew was possible for yourself.

“fuck, fuck!” he’s still going, more desperate than ever, the repeated schlick-schlick of his hand taking over the beating of your heart. “d’you just squirt, huh? filthy, filthy pussy, got herself and all her belongings wet. go on, don’t be shy, lick your mirror clean-”

your phone buzzes.

it’s a fight through the orgasmic haze to read the screen.

yunho <3 - sorry babe, the guys keep buying rounds

yunho <3 - promise i’ll phone you as soon as i can

it takes reading it twice more to really read it.

process it.

understand it.

your heart drops to your stomach.

your lungs swell till they threaten to burst out your ribs.

your legs scramble off the toy, head shaking frantically.

no, no, no.

“what’s wrong, pumpkin?” god, you feel sick.

that’s not your boyfriend’s voice.

you watch the phone, paralysed in your own fear.

there he appears, in all his masked glory, haunting you straight out of your nightmares.

that very same mask, months ago, stood in your room watching over you, a blood soaked knife in his hand and your dead roommate at his feet.

“c’mon, silly girl, don’t tell me you didn’t know,” his words fill your throat with bile. because he’s right, how did you not know? “no, mister ghostface, i just thought my boyfriend’s cock got fatter! pathetic.”

oh god, oh god. yunho, you picture him now, sat among his seven friends, joking over alcohol infused delusions and awaiting his return to his hotel room, to call you and give you the night he’d promised you.

meanwhile, you’re naked, and afraid, and still reeling from the orgasm you’d let this crazed murderer prey witness to.

to make matters worse, you hate the way you’re not as scared as you should be.

or, really, that you’re as turned on as you are put off by the idea of this cruel torturer.

visions of riding that hollow-cheeked mask are fleeting, but vivid enough to have your eyes welling in shameful tears and your legs jumping in remorseful delight.

“you still want it, don’t you?” you should be looking away, hanging up, calling the police. not staring, wide-eyed and unblinking, as the man- the monster on your screen slaps the head of his hard cock against a toned stomach. and you definitely shouldn’t imagine him slapping the head of his cock against your asshole, teasing you with the fear of being defiled only to plunge deep into your cunt in one foul swoop. “yeah, you do. can see you rubbing your thighs together just at the sight of it. bet you’d like to know how’d it feel to be fucked nice and full of me while my knife’s pressed to your throat. just edging you between your orgasm and your deat-”

you hang up.

sit back.

count to ten.

ten.

nine.

eight.

seven.

your ringtone blares again.

unknown caller.

you hit ignore.

restart counting.

make it to four this time.

it calls again.

ignore.

ignore.

ignore.

you phone buzzes.

the notification reads unknown - 1 message.

messenger opens.

a picture.

of your house, taken from across the street. it’s dark, only the light of your bedroom and, within it, the blurred image of you. earlier, fresh out the shower wrapped in a fluffy white towel.

you phone buzzes, once more, and a text appears just beneath the image.

unknown- close ur courtains, u never know who’s watching.

you take a deep breath, stare out your window.

type out a reply.

curtains*

and block the number.

[toruro]

svt as home furniture

seungcheol is very door. i don't even think this counts as home furniture but he is a Door.

jeonghan is like those weird egg chair swing thingies. do u guys know what i'm talking about? like an indoor swing? a hanging chair? looks like an egg?

joshua is a chest of drawers

jun is a Chair

saw someone say soonyoung is a bean bag and umm yeah

wonwoo is a light brown coffee table

jihoon is a foldable couch-bed

i feel like seokmin is a bedside lamp with a yellow lightbulb

mingyu is like a twin sized bed

minghao is very office desk to me

seungkwan is a circular breakfast table with a lazy susan in the middle

vernon is an orange chaise lounge chair

dino is an very upsettingly stained rug

[anhay-hootenheimer]

The chance to find kobolds living in your basement after not having been down there for a while are low, but never zero.

Signs indicating that kobolds have moved in:

- Shed scales that are too big to be from normal wildlife but too large to be from dragons

- Empty containers\drawers and stored furniture are filled with moss (no one knows why kobolds do this)

- All reflective, glittering and shiny objects are neatly piled into one corner of the room

- Mysterious appearance of tunnels linking the basement to neighboring houses basements

- Carpets may have bitemarks in them

- Strange shuffling noises and high pitched barklike noises at night

- If you had a bug or rat infestation, it suddenly disappears seemingly over night

If you suspect that you have kobolds but are not sure, I suggest you put down a plate with hot dino nuggies near the basement entrance and hide somewhere nearby, normally the smell is irresistable enough that they quickly move to snatch them up.

What to do if you have confirmed there are kobolda in your basement:

- make each other friendship bracelets

- come to a mutual agreement where the kobokds do menial tasks around the place while you are at work in exchange for dino nuggies

- play video games together? (kobolds go crazy for minecraft)

[takochan-writes]

Mr. Teddy - Agent Whiskey x f!reader

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x f!reader

W/C: 1K (ups, I got carried away)

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, DDLG (HEAVY use of 'daddy' nickname), soft Dom/Sub dynamic, baby talk, kissing, messy oral (m receiving), allusion to sex (no actual sex happening)

A/N: -

Summary: You want dino plushie in the toy shop back at the mall, but Daddy Whiskey got Mr. Teddy to help him to make your wish come true.

"No daddy, I want pink dino plushies at the mall from yesterday!" you said pouting at him. Throwing yourself onto the couch beside him.

"It's 8 pm, honey. All the malls are closed. How about tomorrow we can go back there, huh? What do you say?" he's trying to be patient and understanding of his babygirl's wants. You've been fussing and whining all day about the pink dino plushies you saw at the mall yesterday.

"Daddy's mean…" you pout and make a sad face at him because last time it worked for her to get whatever she wanted.

"I'm sorry, honey. If daddy can go back there right now, daddy will. But, you know what? I got somethin even better than the dino plushies you want" he said with a hint of playfulness as he got close to you on the couch.

"Wha-what is it, daddy??" you said excitedly, kicking your feet in the air.

"Well, it's a surprise. You need to close your eyes for daddy first, okay?" he smirked and placed his hand on your bare thigh. He is so sleepy and tired from working all day at the office, but he doesn't want to make his babygirl sad like that.

"Pwomise?? Daddy pwomise?" you said hugging your daddy tightly and looking at him with so much joy now on her face.

"Yes, daddy promise, honey. Now, please close your eyes" he said and pulled you into an even more tight hug as he placed you on his lap. You're on top of him now on the couch. You closed your eyes as he grabbed something from the drawer beside the sofa. You're giggling and jumping up and down on his lap now. His growing bulge is now really noticeable to you. But, you didn't pay attention to it at the moment.

As he grabbed a hold of the surprise for you, he placed it between you both "Okay, now open your eyes, baby"

You opened your eyes, and to your surprise, it was a brown teddy bear plush with a red bow on its neck "Awww thankie daddy! This is so cutee!! Thankie daddy!" as you grabbed the teddy bear and hugged it tight.

"No problem, sweetheart. I know this is not your pink dino plushies, but Mr. Teddy is special. Do you wanna know why he's special, baby?" he asks and strokes your cheek lovingly. Your cheeks get rosy red with each touch. You just tilt your head and pout, like you always do when you are curious about something.

"Because Mr. Teddy is daddy little helper! He always helps daddy to make all your wishes come true, honey" he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. A loving look all over his face and placed his big hands around your ass. You looked at him and Mr. Teddy that you still hold in your hands.

"He said something to daddy a minute ago. He said that since you're always being a good girl to daddy, you need to be a good girl and help Mr. Teddy too! You need to take your milkies before bed, so he can do his little magic to make pink dino plushies appear on your bed tomorrow morning. How's that sound, honey? You wanna help Mr. Teddy to do his magic for him?" he smiled brightly as he watched you smile back, holding Mr. Teddy with one arm while your other hand is holding onto his chest. He leans in closer and kiss your temple gently while your face still smiling widely.

"Yes daddy. I wan help Mr. Teddy, pleaseee! Let's help him do his magic!" you said as you jumped up and down again on his lap. He groaned lowly, trying to keep himself together.

"Okay honey, you know what to do right? Get on your knees and let Mr. Teddy watch you take your milkies from daddy" he said as he grabbed hold of Mr. Teddy and placed it right above his crotch, so it's directly on your eyes level. You quickly obliged and got on your knees, his crotch was in front of your face now. You giggle and wiggle with anticipation. As he starts to open his sweatpants and boxer down, just enough to let his hard cock spring free for you to suck on. Your mouth forms an O as you stare intently at Mr. Teddy.

He placed his big palm on your face, to encourage you to suck his cock. You stare at his standing hard cock and then start sucking his cock slowly as you try to memorize every single muscle and vein that you can see. You're trying to be careful not to move Mr. Teddy too much on his stomach. Your mouth was full with his massive cock, but you couldn't care less. It's only about fulfilling Mr. Teddy's request to help him do his magic for daddy.

So, you suck daddy's cock until your throat starts feeling a little sore. You don't stop, though. You continue sucking daddy's cock until you're sure you gonna have daddy's milkies in no time.

"Oh fuck, baby. You're doing so good to help Mr. Teddy. You gonna swallow daddy's milk, alright? Don't you dare waste a drop of it or Mr. Teddy gonna be mad" Your eyes close at the sensation and moan softly as daddy starts pulling your head deeper and deeper on his cock. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, but you can feel yourself wetting your panties.

"Ooh, baby. Daddy's gonna come. Oh fuck, baby. Ready for your milkies?" you nod rapidly as you suck daddy's cock. You can feel his hips starting to tremble and he's squeezing your head with his grip. And you knew, he would cum in any second now. You were practically moaning and whimpering by now, you wanted to cum but you're afraid that daddy gonna punish you for it.

His cock started throbbing and spilled his cum inside your wet mouth. You rolled your eyes and your mouth started watering as soon as you can taste daddy's cum. He keep a hold of your head until his dick started to soften inside your mouth. His cum tastes so amazing on your mouth. It tastes exactly how daddy tastes. You can't get enough of it.

He finally lets your head go and pats your head, signaling you can get off. You suck his last drop of cum with a pop and lick his dick until he's dripping with the mix of his own juices and your saliva. You still lapped at it, until it's clean and glistening with your saliva. He moaned loudly at this, and you can see his cock is getting harder again at the sight of your tongue and mouth.

Mr. Teddy still stands upright on his stomach watching you do a good job taking daddy's milk. "Ohh honey, you've done such a good job. Mr. Teddy is really proud of you, baby. Look" as he panted and grabbed Mr. Teddy to show you his paw that was covered a little bit with your saliva. You smiled at Mr. Teddy and daddy proudly.

"Thank you for helping Mr. Teddy, honeybun. But, he's telling me that if you want TWO pink dino plushies, you need to help take daddy's milk inside your cute pussy. Would you like to help him again, baby?" he smirked seductively.

You know what's about to come and it's gonna be a long night before you gonna get you pink dino plushies.

[shipandrunforit]

Dropping some Heartsteel head cannons I have bc these thoughts won’t leave me alone and I’m curious how much they are going to tie in magic with this (bc Kayn and Ezreal still have their powers)

Kayn and Rhaast

Was a street kid growing, something happened that lead to him being orphaned and living on the streets for a few years

Accidentally released rhaast while trying to steal things from a museum, Rhaasf was not happy about having the situation and tried to leave but Kayn didn’t let him go out of spite.

Two slowly grew to be friends but aren’t the healthiest of friends with Kayns ego feeding into Rhaast, especially when their on stage, and Rhaast has a tendency to voice and pressure kayn to follow through on intrusive thoughts or actions.

Rhaaat was the one who thought of them entering the music industry (wanted everyone’s eyes on him) and so they worked their ass off to get into the industry.

Rhaast also enjoys the dramatics, got very board sitting in the weapon for years and enjoys putting on a show and being a show off.

Ezreal

Was sort of like those Disney kids from the Mickey Mouse club, was how he got into the industry at such a young age. (Also could be why kayn calls him the pop star Prince, is bc he was everywhere for a while).

Is an orphan and is being raised by his uncle

Not sure how he got teleportation when he doesn’t seem to have the gauntlet but he very much loves using his abilities to jump around the city and do parkour.

Would probably also use it to sneak out at times either to hide from his old manager when he was in trouble

First time he did this in front of the boys was bc he was too lazy to walk to the kitchen and he scared the crap out of K’Sante, still make jokes about it.

The dog sleeps in his room, was also the one to name the dog.

Good af editing, especially on computers

Yone

Started out as a dj and went to music school and even taught his brother a few basics of being a dj as well.

Still had a falling out with his brother bc he saw how bad the industry was and didn’t want Yasuo to get involved. Led to them having a fight and haven’t really talked since

Is very into mythology and folklore (is why for his section of music video we see the azukana spirt. Is also partially bc I have no fucking clue how else to tie that part of his backstory into this).

Boys played a prank on him by switching his coffee once, long story short they all (including Rhaast) collectively agreed never to do this again bc of how terrifying the results of this prank where

Yone is one of the best drawers in the group besides Sett and the two talk about animations sometimes (Yone animated the fox in his section)

Has made the boys Dino nuggets at one point

Sett

Is a big fan of comics, animation, and pfp fighting games

Did the drawings for his section as well as the animations for the background (am referring to that scene in the end of the music video)

Dad was a boxer who left when Sett was young

Sett also knows how to box and worked as a boxer for a bit as well as a bouncer maybe. Rap was more of a hobby but when he got signed onto a record label he switched to doing it full time

Punched the paparazzi bc they were harassing his mom

Favorite anime’s include jojo’s bizar adventures and one punch man

Meet Apjelious before Heartsteel at a meuseum that showcasing a new planetarium exhibit. Two hit it off and are now dating.

Aphelios and Alune

He and his sister were involved in choir when they were younger

Alune went off to college to get her degree in business in management and aphelios went stayed home and did his music.

Aphelios lost his voice either due to medical reasons or because of an accident, Alune transferred to a closer college to be with her brother when the news broke out.

Aphelios had a hard time getting further in the industry, was often discredited or people wouldn’t want to work with him bc it was “too much of a hassle”.

Was nervous for his sister to meet Sett only to realize the two get along great and would 100% commit crimes together

Is also a gamer and will do dates with Sett that’s just them playing video games or Sett listening to him ramble on about movie or video game scores.

Aline was very chill with the boys breaking into the studio bjt did tell them not to break anything (spoilers, they did and she was not happy about it).

Alune is the older sibling and will tease her brother and the other boys and is not afraid to fight them if push comes to shove.

K’Sante

Has written and preformed a lot of songs before Heartsteel

Used to work on songs with his ex boyfriend but the two spit up due to the strain working together put on their relationship

Is the relationship expert in the group and will give the others advise or flirting or planning dates or anything else they need help with if they ask.

Loves going to the gym with Sett, might have been how the two of them meet in the first place. They got to talking about music at one point and when they found out the other was looking for someone to collaborate with they decided to work together.

Spot for one another when in the gym

Is the other mom friend of the group but a lot more chill, let’s them get away with more things then Yone would

Is good at filming and old school editing. He and Ezrael did most of the did for the music video and let the others scribble one what they compiled then approved it.

Was against the coffee incident and straight up left the building when it happened.

[blingblong55]

🫧 again,

Price takes his role as Dad very seriously. He stays late in his office scouring the internet for dinosaur sticker sheets he tries to find the best, most accurate dinosaurs to gift his favourite child when they’ve acted like a human instead of a Cryptid. He’ll gladly listen to R/n’s excited rants about how this dinosaur sticker sheet has some sort of obscure dinosaur and how that’s so exciting because it’s their favourite dinosaur and “Archeologists think it has feathers to…” He nods and makes notes and in no times the bottom drawer on his desk is filed with stickers and dinosaur models and small dinosaur teddies as a reward for R/n not trying to stick their hand in the blender to see what will happen.

Fun fact: my uncle discovered a dinosaur! I don’t know what it’s called he named it after a local tribe in I think Argentina? Somewhere in South America

first of all...your uncle fucking rules bc I am a geek when it comes to dinosaurs

R/n: did you know dinosaurs have been found in all seven continents

they are holding Price close as they place a bunch of little stickers on his beard.

Price: really?

R/n: yes..meaning we are probably on land that was stepped by them.how cool is that!

Price literally just stares at you in awe...his favourite little soldier. I have a feeling he would buy mini dinosaurs and place them on his desk so r/n can sit around and play with them.

R/n: When I was a child I wanted to become an archaeologist

Price: you will one day kid

the next day Price has a shipment of a large hard sand box. He even bought reader a little uniform. He allows them to "look" for dinosaurs whenever reader behaves well.

After a tough mission Price buys some Dino teddies, he even buys them collars and cute little clothes, he hands them to reader

Price:take care of them ye?

Reader later on falls asleep, the teddies surrounding them. Price walks in and sheds a tear, he takes a picture and now carries it everywhere.

----

A/n: I was literally so obsessed with dinosaurs I actually had teddies of each single kind...my mum through them out and I am now in search for them..lol

[justinbenzel]

Since the previous shot was achieved with a lot of post-production work, for this one I decided to go almost full practical. I try not to be too dogmatic about process, or limit myself with preconceived notions of 'the right way' to illustrate. In my opinion, no matter what medium or technique you deploy to get the look you want, so long as you're being intentional about every detail, it's all good.

The idea germinated from a desire to create some cloning tanks that actually glowed, which meant I would need to learn some minor electrical skills. Luckily, American Science & Surplus had both the equipment and expertise I needed to get into it. If you look closely at 2nd BTS shot you can see the diagram they graciously drew for me, showing how to wire the tanks to a switch and a battery cap.

For the figurines I went by Smash Toys & Collectibles and rooted through the miscellaneous drawers. In addition to the dinos I used as the base for my creatures, I also found an awesome translucent jellyfish I couldn't help making the main character. This required me to change the shot into an underwater scene, which was a fun challenge to figure out.

As always thanks for checking out my work! :)

[peaxhxhair]

Cuts and Bruises || Jung Taeju

Pairing: Jung Taeju x reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, needles, etc.

Summary: Y/n helps Taeju with his injuries

Author’s Note: I’m planning on making a part two for this, so stay turned for that.

My Name - Masterlist Part Two, Part Three

Consider buying me a coffee! <3

“Taeju, for the love of god, stop fucking moving” I complained, as I attempted to stitch up his face. The usually stoic right hand was shifting uncomfortably as he lay on the table in front of me. He had gotten into a pretty rough fight with another member in the gym. Whether it was actually hostile or not wasn’t really any of my business, but I was definitely annoyed that the two of them showed up outside of my surgical room in the middle of the night, just as I was about to head home.

Although Jung Taeju knows that I don’t give freely, he seemed pretty insistent when he asked me to stitch him up. The other guy didn’t seem to want my help, so I assumed he had been dragged along. I tried to be generous, offering my help to him even though I wasn’t paid to do so, but he took the first chance he got to run away, leaving Taeju and I alone.

“It hurts” He said, attempting to sound normal, although his fidgeting made it hard for me to believe him.

“Don’t be a baby. You’ve done this before” I scoffed at his complaint, to which he shut up for a few moments. Though the fidgeting didn’t stop. After a few more moments of attempting not to take his eye out with a needle, I pulled back, placing my equipment back onto the table beside me, and taking off the gloves I was wearing.

“Have you got worms?” I asked, rolling backwards in the chair I was sitting in. He looked at me as if I called him a slur or something, but eventually shook his head.

“No?” He questioned, sitting up from where he was laying, so he could watch what I was doing. I rummaged through one of the drawers in the room, eventually pulling out the right sized needle, and then going to look for something that could hold him down.

“Then what is up?” I called, and he didn’t respond right away. His lack of an answer made me turn around, only to see his semi-flustered face. Well, as flustered as Jung Taeju could be. The strange sight almost made me laugh, but I kept it at bay so as to not embarrass him any more, even if I really wanted to. “Alright, keep it to yourself then, but you better sit still” I answered, rolling back over to him, with the new needle I grabbed.

I had to wipe some blood from his face again, before trying to stick the needle in his face again. This time he sat still for a good few moments, just enough for me to get a good few stitches in, before he moved again.

“You’re a good looking guy. Surely you don’t want a mangled face” I commented, which made him freeze for a second, enough for me to put the final stitch in, tying the string off and making sure that it didn't look disgusting, before leaving him be for a few moments as I went to find some bandaids for his smaller wounds.

“You think I’m good looking?” He asked, like no one had said that to him before. I rolled my eyes at the question, but shrugged, pulling a box of bandaids out of the nearest drawer to me.

“Sure” was what I said, I really meant to say yes, but I wasn’t trying to make it awkward. He seemed pretty happy with the answer, even if I tried to play off the fact that I found him attractive.

As I was about to stick a bandaid on one of the cuts on his chin, he stopped me. “They’ve got dinosaurs on them” He said, not seeming to like the idea of having kids' bandaids on his face. In a way, I understood. He cared about being taken seriously, and this certainly wasn't helpful. I chuckled lightly at how he pointed it out, but nodded in response.

“They were the only ones they had at the store” I answered, and he took that as to say he could have this plaster, or nothing. He would be right. “You shouldn’t be fighting if you don’t want dinos on your face” He scoffed at my words, but nodded regardless, silently agreeing with my words.

“There, all better. Come back in a week and I’ll take those stitches out” I concluded, patting his cheek gently, as a way to say that he could leave.

“You forgot something” He said, as I was about to turn away.

“What? You want a lollipop?” I joked, and I managed to get a small chuckle out of him, but he shook his head. Instead, he placed his hands on my hips, pulled me close and kissed me quick. He didn’t give me enough time to respond, and before I knew it, he had pulled away, a slight smirk resting on his lips as he stared at me. Then, he turned to leave, leaving me flustered in the middle of the room.

Just as he was about to walk out, I spoke up. “This isn’t over Jung Taeju” The only response I heard was a slight chuckle as he walked away.