#i’ve only gone once myself
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luminique · 14 days ago
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besides spending quiet time together in lumina square, i think dragging lighter to fun places to take his mind off things is something else that he secretly enjoys.
you don’t have to have a set plan with him. i think he’d enjoy going with the flow of things as long as it’s with you. watching movies at gravity cinema, eating hot pot together, getting teamilk before doing some shopping for the girls.
there are tons of shops there and lots of things to do. recently, teens in the area have been raving about a new photobooth place in lumina square. it gets really busy during the weekends but lucky for the both of you, it was a relatively chill weekday. it was a normal shop that had a few photobooths and many funny accessories.
you both chose some accessories for yourselves (more like you chose and lighter hesitantly agreed). a pair of heart sunglasses, cat and dog ear headbands, and a huge bangboo plushie. he personally would never do something like this alone but seeing you be so indecisive on which accessories to pick did entertain him.
you walked into one of the booths, the screen displaying clear instructions to make sure you knew where to stand and how to take a photo. lighter was a little awkward at first, he’s not the kind to be good at photos, let alone pose for one intentionally. you decided to wear the heart sunglasses first, thinking that it’d match perfectly with lighter’s usual shades. a middle finger pulling down the shades a little as you looked at the camera and he couldn’t help but laugh at your attempt to imitate him.
he did the same pose as you, wanting to show who the true undefeated champion was. backs toward each other, the camera’s shutter goes off and the first picture was taken. that helped him relax a little, not feeling as nervous or awkward as before. until you wore the headband however….
a fluffy cat ear headband was now on your head as you happily held out the dog ear ones to him. “do i really have to…?” he asked you as he hesitated taking it from you. “mhm! and i’m putting it on you,” you chirped, so eager to have him wear something completely opposite to his cool guy image.
he let out a quiet sigh of defeat. he can’t argue with you to be honest, not when you’re beaming with excitement for him to wear it. he bent down a little, letting you place it on his head. he looked at the display, seeing his reflection in it and immediately turns red. you can see the blush on his face and it was the perfect opportunity for the next photo.
two more photos left. you could almost reach your arms around the big bangboo plushie, lighter followed suit and hugged it too. his hand brushed against your arm as he buried his face into the plushie to hide his embarrassment. you seemed to be having fun though, your laugh becoming a familiar sound followed by the camera shutter.
it’s the final photo, you had to make the most of it. no accessories this time, you wanted to capture a natural moment between the both of you. “finally, just one more,” lighter thought to himself, completely unaware of what plans you had. he was unsure of how to pose, since there was no props now.
you got closer to him, wanting to do a pose that had your faces close to each other. holding his hand in yours, you clicked the button on the screen. he knew his eyes should be on the camera but it was focused on the display, on you specifically. your smile, the way your eyes also showed that happiness. this was fun, you looked cute and he’d only try it again if it was wi-
3, 2, 1, click!
the last picture was taken. just before it did, you turned your face towards him, giving a kiss on his cheek. it was captured perfectly, the surprise on his face was evident even though his sunglasses hid the blush behind them. his mind went blank, not realizing that you were picking up the accessories to return them. the screen instructed you to not leave anything behind and to take the photos outside of the machine. “lighter? hello?” you waved your hand in front of him, he quickly snapped out of it and followed you out of the booth.
two strips of pictures were printed out, all of the photos came out exactly the way you wanted them to. you gave him the other strip and he examined the pictures carefully. he looked like a flustered mess in all of them except the first one. he can’t let anyone see this, especially that last one… but you looked perfect. maybe he shouldn’t fuss over it, instead enjoy the fact that he got to spend time with you. a picture perfect memory he could always look back on when he misses you.
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hplonesomeart · 15 days ago
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Would
(go to one of his theatrical broadway-wannabe concerts or perhaps a late night gameshow comedy hour sketch performance. I’m not too picky I’d be willing to pay money just to see him perform anything period)
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Yea I felt like doing something silly in order to break away from the dread of finals week coming up. What can I say? I’m a professional procrastinator. But man oh man it was a good call this time around—I mean just look as this scrumptious masterpiece right here. Time well spent for sure. Genuinely I believe to have cooked with it chat /j
This is a version without the added stars by the way. And the second one is obviously just raw image reference/the original “bereal concert meme” source. I was very tempted to put Puzzles in that same exact outfit—however I decided it would be overly time consuming to make two separate versions. Maybe once finals are over I’ll be able to do that :)
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loderlied · 1 year ago
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posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh
#god i am trying so hard to just have fun and be myself#but when i do that i'm immediately a strange outsider creep#and since i can't really mask my version of masking is just not talking and then obviously you don’t find any joy in fandom spaces either#i will always be a shitty unlikable freak no matter how much i pretend otherwise. it was obvious from the start that getting involved in#fandom spaces was a fucking mistake. it's always a mistake because you're some laughing stock at best and a horrifying freak at worst#i don't blame people for not liking me i've realised what an awful person i am long ago#but it's always so hard witnessing something like fun social groups from the sidelines knowing you'll never be a part of it#this is why my mental state has been deteriorating so severely in the last few months. that Realisation once again nothing fucking changed#i know it's stupid to get so upset over fandom but it's only a pattern for me#i stopped trying to be friends with people when i was a teenager because it hasn't worked a single time#this attempt at integrating myself into the wotr and bg3 fandom by sharing my shit was just one mistake#gortash/zeke is so different from anybody else’s work and i wish i could find joy in something that it isn’t fucking deranged but i can’t#like yes it’s just fandom bullshit! gortash/zeke is a fucking oc x canon ship! why am i getting so upset over it!#i love writing them. i’ve never been this happy writing anything. and it’s entirely indicative of a common pattern in my life#when i earnestly share parts of myself/things i’m passionate about people get creeped out. and honestly? rightfully so#i would leave the discord servers i’m in because it’s fucking crushing me dude. this is so petty but i’m so jealous of what you people have#but in one i am server owner and i don’t want to just dump that responsibility onto someone else and then dip#and in the other two i’m not sure anyone would even notice that i’m gone but i still worry about being rude#though i’m not entirely sure i didn’t get invited to one of those just so people could laugh at me. idk probably just being paranoid but i#it’s been gnawing at me#ok no if i’m being this vulnerable on tunglr.com i can also say that part of me staying is also still having the hope that i could fit in#one day. logically i know it won’t happen but it’s nice to have hope sometimes#watching you all from through the window having fun like a creep#so yeah. i’ve always felt like this but it’s been rapidly getting worse with my failed attempt at the bg3 fandom#idk just been crying non-stop for the last few hours. went through an entire pack of tissues in an hour it’s very disgusting#they’re all lying around me as i’m typing this like a pillowfort of snot lmao#so yeah. idk. if someone could come over and lobotomise me that’d be nice. orin where are you when we need you most#i never had any friends irl so i foolishly gave this a shot. i’m sorry#also doesn’t help that i can see someone dropping me for people that are easier to be around in irl rn#it just hurts because it’s always like that. someone you are around when you have no other option at best. not even that sometimes
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always-a-slut-4-ghouls · 2 years ago
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I know it’s not a reliable way to judge how things work for most alloromantics, but apparently you guys are having romantic feelings a few times a month, sometimes a few times a WEEK?! I just thought… you guys felt it every few years or when you have had a few dates or something. But huh?! A week?! Is that true?
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I have literally only had crushes. I don’t feel little instances of quick attraction (which other people apparently do???) I’ll see someone and go “huh, they look nice” but it won’t really be romantic, just aesthetic. And even that only happens every once in awhile. The only time I ever really feel romantic attraction is when I get a strong crush. My feelings, annoyingly, have no in-between. They also can’t be prompted by me attempting to set them up, like a date. It just doesn’t do anything, and not “it doesn’t happen every time” that I think is normal, no, it just doesn’t happen at all. I wish it worked, I really do. It would make my life so much simpler, but it never does. Sometimes I’ll see someone do something and go like, “aww, that’s cute” but it’s more just general endearment or maybe affection. It doesn’t feel romantic. I’m so confused.
#emma posts#romantic orientation#alloromantic#I think I’m grayromantic#I’ve only recently realized that (as in yesterday)#I knew I was Demisexual but I didn’t know my ROMANTIC experience was unusual. I’ve gone SEVEN YEARS since my last crush#and I’m not romantically attracted unless I have a crush#when I do have a crush the feelings are strong#but it’s never worked out and I’ve learned how to kill the things over time if I have to#and then I’m just not super into the person again#I probably could be but I’ve never pushed it#I have had three maybe four crushes on actual people in my life and I’m 26#and crushes on video game characters aren’t the same as on real people#but even those don’t average once a year#and you guys are just… feeling it whenever?#I’m having another revelation#I’m really oblivious aren’t i#and I’ve been reflecting on myself in therapy for a decade#apparently processing trauma and anxiety doesn’t make you understand your orientations and gender#unless the trauma or anxiety comes from those things I guess#but mine don’t and I know that for certain#the mortifying ordeal of being known buy#but it’s literally just you knowing yourself all of the sudden#I would be laying down staring at the ceiling but my hair is in a bun and I don’t want to fuck it up#I work hard on learning how to put it up in buns#every one is an accomplishment#and sometimes I don’t even get sexually attracted to a crush#which have only ever been the people I’ve gotten sexually attracted to#crushes I mean#but I like stories with romance. does that throw it off?
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sanchoyo · 2 years ago
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🧍🏻 girl help the blood tests came back and I do possibly have pre-hypothyroidism. They want me to come back in 3 months to do another panel just in case bc smth was apparently way way too high 😭 wtf !!
#I don’t know what they’ll do if it’s confirmed I mean. I mean they confirmed my levels are high but maybe it’s a fluke 😭 PLSS if that’s#actually fr a reason or contributing factor to my mental stuff I will lose it I don’t want another diagnosis I have enough shit wrong!!!#enoughhhhh like stoppp ittttt 😂 please. ☹️#I am also going to …book an appointment w a disability lawyer#I once again quit a job after 2 days 😔#but I’m alive! I survived a level 10 brain crisis . I can’t keep getting jobs and then having huge horrible week long meltdowns over them#it’s disability or bust!!!! if the lawyer tells me it’s not realistic and she doesn’t think I’ll get it idk 😭#but like. I’m not able to work rn. I can’t keep lying and downplaying it and then spending weeks recovering after meltdowns#it’s not sustainable!!!! it cannot continue!!!!#literally nervously admitted to my sister how bad it actually is and saying it out loud was so hard and embarrassing but…#I promised the crisis hotline lady I’d get help and tell my support system that I need help. I will not let her down 🫡 I will get help#if I have to drag myself. which I will .#lol…(pained) I rly hope the lawyer takes me seriously 😐#medical talk#sanchoyorambles#actually thyroid issues run in the family my grandma has thyroid issues!!! I’ve gone w her to a specialist that’s like 3 hours away!!!#maybe I shouldn’t be surprised but I genuinely am I am like wtf!! bro !!#I mean tbf I’ve had anxiety forever like even as a very small child so I don’t think that’s the ONLY reason but if it’s contributing…🔫#I don’t even kno how they’d treat that I will look it up I guess 🧍🏻
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8-birdparagon · 5 months ago
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I know that everybody moves through life at different speeds and “comparison is the thief of joy” and all that, but scrolling through the social media of people I knew in high school and seeing that several of them are just straight up married now bestows upon me a very distinct feeling of missing out
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leodoriya · 6 months ago
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grocery lists you get from your mom: sour cream NO SUGAR NO DAIRY NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVOURS NO GLUTEN NO GMO LOW CALORIE ORGANIC
grocery lists you get from your dad: party size doritos (PUT DOWNSTAIRS IN DESK CABINET SO MOM DOESNT SEE)
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exopelagic · 7 months ago
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I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3
#it’s just gone in the oven which means at least 25 minutes and probably more like 45 bc I made a Lot#am also kiiiinda winging the recipe so my expectations are on the floor#this is. for a bake sale. pray for me#I’m gonna make the icing tonight and leave it in the fridge overnight I think for tomorrow morning#this has gone wrong at every available opportunity it was 100% not worth it#however! given the prices my friend wants to sell this at i May have turned this into like over £100 which isn’t bad#TWO CAKES. WHY AM I MAKING TWO CAKES#I’m procrastinating washing up the stuff I used to make the batter (hell) bc itssosososo messy and I just wanna shout abt stuff#primarily that I am once again so upset that I only get one more week of ice hockey before summer#there are two parts to this feeling: 1. I love ice hockey I’ve been having such a good time this past week while I’ve not had to stress#abt anything else. 2. gay. gay gay homosexual gay#like okay I’ve been worried abt whether this is an actual crush or I just convinced myself I like him bc pretty+queer#(because of course I can worry abt that). BUT yeah sorry no can confirm I like this dumb fuck this is so unfair#we talked a BUNCH last night and he’s just really cool.#ohhhh fuck I don’t think the oven was properly preheated bc I opened it for a while to fit the two tins in. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#anyway!! he’s really fun to talk to someone help like if he does turn out to be single I could in THEORY text him over summer. maybe.#his birthday will be coming up and my friend suggested that. I’m being insane but oh my god this is torture#I ALSO watched the newest dr who episode today and that did NOT HELP. one of the first things in a while that have given me like#this same specific feeling when I get into gay romantic media. the ‘reading gay shit on wattpad at age 14 feeling’ if you will#where there’s like this weight in the pit of my stomach. it’s NICE that doesn’t sound good but it is#is this what straight people get with romance all the time. I know I just don’t watch/read much anymore but also#there’s straight romance in literally everything so.#but yeah basically I need another month of fuck around time minimum when everyone’s in this city so I can get my shit together#ALSO. I ONLY HAVE A YEAR LEFT HERE. THATS TERRIFYING. a year is a long time but it’s also not this one disappeared and this is like.#WAY too early to even consider that but he’s gonna be here probably for a year after I leave and that could suck if anything does happen.#I guess in theory I’m taking a year before phd probably so I could work here. idk man anyway that one is actually insane of me I’m just gay#boy 😔. they shouldn’t be allowed to do this#on Wednesday he’ll be done with exams and so will my other friend who knows him well. so I will be able to 1. subtly see w her if girlfriend#2. potentially. MAYBE ask what she thinks I’m just trying to decide whether that’s too much to put on her. I think I’m being insane there#luke.txt
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rowanhoney · 11 months ago
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Wait I’m more mad
#I’m mad cos i wanted to finally treat myself cos i had a good payday and it’s GONE fml.#but also my boots broke after 6 days#so I paid a bunch to fix them cos was cheaper than buying new boots#and they broke again within a few weeks#so I got bought new boots for my birthday! they were labeled as a 38 and they were chunky base but looked sleek#except they looked a bit clown like when I put them on which was weird#wore them all day and struggled#the sale sticker on the base was covering the real size. they’re a 41 not a 38🙃#but I can’t take them back now I’ve worn them etc#so I have to take them to the charity shop and I once again don’t have shoes#and I can’t go buy myself shoes cos I have to send my grandparents money because my mother is an awful drain of a person#i literally just want the basics#when I was small my mother used to say I was a spoilt brat#and would manipulate people into giving me whatever I want#and what she meant was I preferred staying at a house where I was given food.#though I was very much deprived of basics there#again ! shoe problems! my family didn’t want to waste money so they’d only let me buy the cheapest shoes#and I remember walking home from school one day#absolutely soaked because again. the sole had come off and it was pouring with rain#and there was nothing I could do.#I’m just so tired of my family’s attitudes around money#like no one can be normal#they either have it and are frugal to a point of detriment#or they don’t have it and live lavishly and rely on everyone else to fund their lifestyle#and I’m stuck in the middle just about having enough. like I’ll be okay. I just want a pair of shoes that last longer than a week#and don’t cause me a lot of pain#and I wanna be able to eat fine without worry#which I can manage to do. like not much else but I can get by fine#and I’m happy!!!! until I get dragged into the middle of this bs and it triggers the fuck out of me#lmfao this is so funny cos I have Chiron in the 2nd house. valid af
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suguae · 11 months ago
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Haunted
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Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.
Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)
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You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.
How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.
Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like. 
And perhaps that's what it was. 
Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.
And it was wrong—so wrong. 
“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.
But not this time.
He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–” 
“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted. 
Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.
He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later. 
You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.
The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer. 
Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.
Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it. 
“I’m sorry—”
“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”
The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi. 
“And how are you so sure—”
“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.” 
It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch. 
His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.
You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking. 
That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.
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next part ->
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kitten4sannie · 2 months ago
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antithesis
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pairing: peter parker/venom! yunho x gf! reader
genre: spider man au, smut
summary: your boyfriend is going through a phase.
w.c: 3.3k (porn with a microscopic amount of plot)
warnings: dom! yunho, sub! reader, venom should have his own warning bc bro is NASTYY (so is yuyu 🤝🏻), partial mind manipulation? on yunho’s part? bc venom is in his head? idk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, teasing, fingering, hand kink….,, SIZE KINK., manhandling, pussy eating, tongue kink, raw feral sex (doggy + missionary), bro has a monster cock, also monster fucking!! bc venom takes over <3, cum eating, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, mind break, record breaking creampie
a/n: listen …….i LOVE venom, the things i would let venom do to me would set humanity back at least fifty years. NOW VENOM YUNHO ON THE OTHER HAND,, oh boy. boyyyy oh boy. i don’t think i have to explain myself when it comes to that combination bc this fic speaks for itself lol. are you curious now? why don’t you give it a peek then, hm? (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ and then lemme know what you thought of it pretty please? <3
song rec: new woman - lisa feat. rosalía (get it bc he’s a new man - bc of venom - 😼)
fictober 2024
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“And just where have you been, Jeong Yunho?” you asked your boyfriend in a more teasing manner than anything, once he snuck in past the sliding glass door of the balcony, getting up from the couch you were waiting restlessly on. When he stood there silently just looking at you through the white eye shaped sections of his mask, you pouted, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around your finger. “Just be honest with me and I won’t be mad, okay?” 
Despite the lack of sleep, you were ready for him this time. He wasn’t about to casually sneak in or out of the house another night that week without you catching him. Usually, you wouldn’t have been concerned because you were used to him being gone when there was crime taking place or a super villain that needed to be brought to justice, but recently…your boyfriend was acting strange. He was starting to become moody and secretive, opting to brush you off when you asked him about it. Yunho had even taken up using substances in his free time, finding him drunk or high off his ass in the apartment when you got home from work. The final straw was when you came home one night to find him in the kitchen with freshly dyed hair and new piercings he had given himself, a few empty boxes of black hair dye and bloody safety pins laying haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 
Yunho took off his mask and rubbed at his eyes like he was tired, leaving a bit of smeared eyeliner underneath them, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his frayed jacket, the one that was slightly zipped just enough to cover his iconic red suit. 
“She knows about us,” said the annoying parasite that had just recently made a home inside him. “We should eat her.”
“No, I’m not doing that,” Yunho grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
You walked up to him, gently putting a hand on his chest. “Yun, I just wanna know where you were at, that’s all. You know I respect your space,” you murmured, your pout growing slightly, your eyebrows upturned with concern. 
“She’s looking at us with those big round eyes again, Yunho,” Venom told his host, letting out a disgusting groan only he could hear. “It’s gonna make us hard. If we’re not going to eat her, let’s fuck her, at least.” 
“Mingi asked me to take care of some douchebags that had been causing trouble at that new club he works at. That’s all, baby,” Yunho replied softly, reaching down to press the back of his hand against your cheek, before cupping it. He noticed the teary look inside your doe eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” 
You nuzzled into his big warm hand, before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck to hold your boyfriend close. “I’m fine…I’ve just been worried about you, Yun. You’ve been acting a bit…different.” 
“Let’s show her just how different we’ve become, Yunho,” Venom egged him on, knowing Yunho could feel just how much he wanted to break through the barrier of his host’s mind and take control. “She’ll love it.”
How could he possibly explain to you that he was always in a never ending battle with a frightening otherworldly parasite that had found its way inside of him? You would be so scared and disgusted, you’d probably never trust him again. He couldn’t risk losing you, not when you were his only anchor to the normal life he desperately craved, and the first person he’s ever felt this strongly about. 
“I’m just going through a phase, I think,” Yunho expressed wholeheartedly, resting his hands around your waist, his thumbs slightly pressing into your hip bones through your sleep shirt, feeling just how delicate you truly were. You were so small compared to him, practically swimming in one of his band t-shirts that you regularly wore to bed; you were so tiny and cute, and…”Malleable,” Venom finished. Yunho couldn’t tell if the parasite was influencing all of his thoughts or if he was just that perverted. 
“Do you wanna talk about it, Yun?” You pressed yourself closer to Yunho, feeling his large hands enclose around your small waist, making you feel a bit dizzy. When he shook his head, you tilted yours, wondering if what you felt pushing against your middle was exactly what you thought it was. “Or, do you want to take me to bed?” 
It had felt like forever since Yunho had touched you, kissed you even. You had almost forgotten what it was like to feel him inside you, filling you up over and over again until his love spilled out. Just the thought alone made your body begin to overheat. Was it wrong of you to take his simple answer at face value? Should you have pushed the issue, instead of letting him push you back into the wall of the hallway? You weren’t sure, but you were just grateful that your boyfriend still wanted you like this. 
“Did punching those guys at the club make you this horny?” you asked playfully, a sudden shiver of pleasure shooting up your spine when Yunho’s warm hands snaked up underneath your shirt and began groping at your tits.
“So horny,” Yunho joked back, a shaky exhale escaping his bobbing throat as he swallowed. 
 “Nnngh, I didn’t know fighting crime did it for you, Yun.” 
“Knowing I’m already getting your little pussy wet just from this is what’s doing it for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, having to practically lower himself to your height just to do so, able to clearly hear the breathless moan that left your lips. Yunho was already breathing hard, his mind swimming with constant racing thoughts that all pertained to his pretty little girlfriend and what he was going to do to you, squishing your soft flesh in between his slender fingers, using his thumbs to rub your hardening nipples in teasing circles. 
It had felt like eternity since Yunho had allowed himself to feel you underneath his touch, to even simply look at you with unbridled lust. He wanted to see all of you, witness the way you completely opened yourself up to him. It was driving him insane. Was it selfish of him to give into temptation when there was something else living inside him? Something that he knew was taking even more pleasure in this than he was? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew it was far too late to stop now. 
“Let us see her tits, Yunho, they feel so nice inside our hands, we need to see,” Venom demanded, desperately shaking the bars of his figurative cage. 
When Yunho tugged your shirt up and over your tits, your gasp became muffled, your eyes widening as he stuffed the hem of the shirt into your mouth. You were going to close your legs to keep your arousal from spilling down your thighs, but your eager boyfriend pushed his larger one in between them. 
“You’re so pretty, angel,” Yunho cooed softly, admiring the way you began to grind your cunt against his thigh, despite the sheepish expression you offered him, a bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth from witnessing such a display of pure desperation. “Look at you go…rubbing yourself all over my thigh like a horny little slut.” 
“N-not a slut,” you whimpered softly, his insult causing a fresh wave of slick to leak out onto Yunho’s torn jeans. “Just need you, Yuyu.” 
“Her breeding hole needs to be trained to handle my size. Do it now,” Venom growled into Yunho’s mind, growing more and more demanding by the second, very aware that his host was starting to lose control of himself. 
“Yeah? How about this?” Yunho pulled your panties to the side so that he could watch as your greedy cunt swallowed up one of his long, bony fingers to the knuckle. “Is that enough, baby?” 
“I meant with your human sized cock, you insufferable prick,” Venom chided, simply not understanding the pleasurable benefits that prolonged foreplay could offer being the inhibited hothead that he was. 
Something about the way Yunho was taking his time with unraveling you, the way he was drinking in the sight of your bare body with pure lust inside his dilated eyes, all while he had one of his digits plunged inside you. It made you pulse and squeeze around it. “F-full.”  
“But I barely fit one finger inside you, sweetheart. What’ll happen if I put another?” Yunho suddenly tugged your borrowed t-shirt up and over your head, leaning in close to your face to catch the way your breath hitched as soon as he slipped another finger inside, curling them just enough to hit your sweet spot each time he finger-fucked you, earning a few whiny moans from his beloved girlfriend. “Oh, that’s right. You turn into my little sex toy, don’t you?” 
“Y-esss, Yuyu, just for you, fuck,” you cried out, hooking your arms around his neck to keep yourself from completely melting into the floor. 
“That’s a good girl,” he groaned into your ear, quickly stuffing his thick digits into you, unable to get Venom’s ungodly thoughts out of his head all the while, unable to keep himself from shoving a third finger into you, your slick walls pulsating around him. “You think you’re feeling full now…just wait till my cock’s inside you.”
Gasping, your nails dug into his back through his clothes. “Oh my god, Yunho, give it to me, please, please, please,” you whined breathlessly into his neck, trembling in his arms as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. “N-need your cock in me.” 
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re already begging to be fucked like that. I almost forgot how much of a needy little slut you are when you need cock. You like the thought of me stretching out your little pussy that much, huh?” He smiled against your heated skin when you whimpered and nodded eagerly, not allowing you to witness the brief moment his eyes turned completely black. “I just might split you open.” 
You almost didn’t recognize your boyfriend when he tossed you onto your shared bed like you weighed close to nothing, and you certainly didn’t recognize him when he manipulated your limbs until you were laying with your head down against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Usually, he wanted to do missionary, so that he could kiss and look at you when you both came undone, but now, now he had you in a position that was apparently ‘perfect for breeding’, or at least, that’s what you thought you had heard him mumbling about from behind you. 
“Now’s the time, human. We must show her how great we are,” the alien reminded Yunho, delighted that his black parasitic poison was now making its way through his host’s veins, showing up from underneath his milky skin. It was changing him in ways that would most definitely benefit all three of you. 
Yunho squeezed his large hands into the sides of your ass and spread it open, hyper focused on your dripping cunt and how it struggled to accommodate his obscene size. “Poor baby’s so tiny, my little princess can barely take me inside her pretty cunt,” he sighed, pulling out just enough to send a few strands of spit onto his own cock, lubing up the base of it and pushing back in, a shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine as soon as he heard the broken cry that left your drooling mouth. “Looks like we’re going to have to break you in.” 
You felt like you were losing your mind. Your boyfriend had just barely bottomed out inside of you and you were already about to cream yourself. And, it might’ve been the cock drunk state you were in, but you swore to god that his dick got bigger. It felt like it was kissing your cervix already and he hadn’t even moved yet. Not to mention, it felt so hot inside you, and there was so much pre-cum coating your walls, you almost thought he had came prematurely, but he would’ve been asleep and snoring away already if he did. 
Yunho violently interrupted your train of thought by slamming his hips forward, letting out a deep, long groan as though he were experiencing euphoria. He grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, tucking them together so that he could hold them both with one large hand, and quickly got to work, yanking you back onto his cock, using you like his own personal sex doll. “That’s fucking it, isn’t it, angel? You like that? You fucking like that?” 
“Yeah, fuck me,” you moaned back, realizing this ‘phase’ of Yunho’s was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to the both of you, previously unaware that something this rough, something this animalistic, could feel as good as it did. 
“She’s ours, she’s ours, Yunho, fuck, we’re going to cum inside her,” Venom blissfully announced into Yunho’s head, fully taking over his host in that very instant, gracing Yunho with the symbiote’s much more endowed features. 
It was then that you let out a sudden gasp, the air that quickly filled your lungs leaving as a wavering moan of pleasure instead. It was almost as if Yunho’s cock had grown twice in size. You didn’t even know how that was possible, but you were too lost in the moment to question it. “So big, it’s so fucking big, Yunho, nnnngh, it’s gonna break me,” you exhaled, quickly pulling at the sheets once he gifted you partial physical autonomy, your eyes beginning to disappear underneath your eyelashes. 
“That’s right, pretty girl, and you’re going to keep taking it all, even after I’m done impregnating you,” Yunho agreed huskily, bending over you until his overheated body pressed into your shoulders and back, his long fingers curling around the softness of your hips. Just as his never ending seed spilled into you and made its way into your womb, Yunho dragged his long tongue up in between your straining shoulder blades and along your neck, savoring your flavor. He truly wanted to eat you, unable to stop drooling, but the annoying mortal he shared this body with wouldn’t let him. Venom figured he would have to settle for the next best thing.  
You didn’t even have a chance to finish shaking, let alone take a breath, before you were being lifted up and lowered back down onto your boyfriend’s face, your cunt fitting snugly between the curves of Yunho’s lips and nose. Just as he lapped at your extremely sensitive clit and slit, you couldn’t help but jolt away, his forearms suddenly locking tightly around your middle. “O-oh…!” 
“Hold still. Need a taste of this pretty cunt,” Yunho growled under his breath, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide enough so that he could explore the entirety of your used cunt, licking and drinking up the mixed arousal that spilled out of you to his heart’s content.
“Y-yunhooo,” you whined pathetically, reaching forward to hold onto the headboard to keep yourself from passing out from the pleasure that was overloading your mind, looking down to watch how he eagerly nosed at your clit. “Fuck, i’ll cum again…” 
“Then, do it, princess.” Just as he swallowed down more of your wetness, he realized it wasn’t enough, unable to keep himself from sliding the entirety of his tongue inside you, feeling you clench around the base of it. 
“Oh my god, your tongue, it’s so–haaaah,” you reacted breathlessly, digging your nails into the wood of the headboard, the longer his serpent-like tongue slithered in and out of you so seamlessly, unable to fully understand how any of this was possible. When the thickest part of his appendage rubbed at your g-spot, you saw white around your vision, your ears ringing, unable to hear the filthy slurping sounds Yunho was making underneath you as he drank up your squirt. 
When you came to, you were back underneath Yunho, in the missionary position he loved so much, yet this time it was profoundly different. His eyes were as dark as his freshly dyed hair, one corner of his mouth split open, inviting a myriad of long, serrated fangs, all while black wispy tendrils clung onto one side of his face like a second skin. You realized too late why Yunho was acting so out of character, and that you were never actually alone with him the past few weeks. You had an uninvited guest, an alien symbiote known as Venom, to be exact — and here you were, face to face with him, his disgustingly oversized cock stretching you wide open.
“Oh god, you’re actually going to split me open, what the fuck,” you gasped sharply, clutching the sides of Yunho’s cheeks, your fingers tugging at the ends of his sweaty hair. 
“Silly human, as much as we’d enjoy seeing that, you won’t split apart. You have a prime body for breeding, didn’t you know?” he chuckled darkly in a two-toned voice, pressing his hand down into your abdomen to feel the sheer size of himself protruding through your lower belly each time his hips routinely smacked into yours. “We knew Spider-man’s pretty little girlfriend would make a perfect host for our offspring. Just look at you, you’re taking us so well.” 
You didn’t know what was going to break your mind first, the fact that you were essentially being used as a breeding tool for an alien that would take great pleasure in swallowing you whole, or the fact that your cunt was eagerly swallowing up something so absurdly large, its heavy girth and width stretching you so wide, it felt as though you would fall apart at any given time. Despite the insanity of it all, your body and mind welcomed it, creaming yourself on his alien cock. 
“Good girlll,” Yunho praised, letting his long slimy tongue slip out to lick up the side of your cheek until he tasted the salt from the tears that fell down your face. He fully sheathed himself inside you one last time, before his large hands cemented around your waist, holding you completely still as his hot load joined the other one he had previously fucked into you, his heavy breaths warming the skin of your neck. “That’s it, princess, take it all, just like that…” 
You could hardly breathe, let alone move, simply laying still in your boyfriend’s arms, taking everything he gave you, as wave after wave of cum coated the insides of your aching cunt and flooded womb, some of it spilling down the insides of your legs and dripping onto the stained sheets below. It felt so good to be filled up in such a way that you came again without direct stimulation, letting out a broken cry, before Yunho silenced you with a kiss. 
When you opened your teary eyes, your boyfriend’s previously monstrous traits were gone, instead replaced with his usual soft, flushed features that you adored so much. You watched him open and close his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say. You pressed another kiss to his lips, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Should we go to the drugstore to get Plan B?”
Yunho gave you a goofy, though apologetic smile, leaning his face into your neck to give it a few kisses. He pulled himself back up to face you, his eyebrows upturned. “D-do you think it would work on an alien symbiote?” 
You patted his head, knowing what you signed up for when you decided to date the Spider-man, figuring one of his superhero friends would have a solution for the both of you. You gave him a soft smile, happy when he returned it. “If not, let’s get a refund.” 
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hplonesomeart · 1 month ago
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Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3
…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol
BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!
I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.
Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)
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Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!
I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)
#OKAY SO SO SO actually started doodling this once the video was around 98k this morning#it wasn’t even meant to be art specifically designed to celebrate the milestone at first#I just wanted to draw the funky fella who makes me laugh#but as you can see that changed up fast jksjksp#I was under the impression that my video wouldn’t reach near 100k until December UH?? WHAT HAPPENED MY PREDICTION THWARTED??#seems I’ve severally underestimated how long the traction would continue for geez wow uh#people sure do enjoy comedy gotta love ‘em laughs and giggles#I CAN’T BELIEVE WE REACHED IT THO. THAT’S INSANE TO ME—ALL THE SUPPORT AND COMMENTS AND SUBS#thank you SMG4 fandom I would’ve never fathomed the algorithm to carry it so far like this#you wanna know the real kicker?#things would have gone so differently for the channel if I didn’t wrestle with my anxiety & post there#because there was a point during that day where I fullheartedly figured it would cause me to loose subs#I was kinda terrified ngl#this goes to show that you should never hold yourself back from sharing different aspects of your interests#you don’t need to confine yourself to just one thing#or to strive only to make the most high quality videos ever (I put that pressure on myself a bit too much nowadays)#sometimes it’s the simple ideas that manage to charm people#and those who see the effort will stick around to support you. You just need to trust yourself during the process and take that chance :)#EWWWW MUSHY GUSHY SENTIMENTALITY CLOGGING UP THE ATTENTION HERE#whatever happened to keeping the focus on ✨the star✨ who made it all possible to begin with huuuu??#show a bit more gratitude to the charming TV who boosted the viewership in the first place…don’t be so self absorbed with morals lonesome 😒#what is this some sort of My Little Pony episode oh pleaseeeeee 🙄#<- all of that was a simulation of Puzzles interjecting and nagging a bit lol. I’d imagine he’s tried of my nonstop nonsense#….yea the Puzzle brainrot is reaching maximum severities. So there’s high chance I’ll be animating him more down the line :3#stick around to find out!!#hplonesome art
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diari0deglierrori · 1 year ago
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Don’t know why I even had a tiny hope they’d notice at least some of the efforts I put into preparing the house for them, getting all their favorite stuff and all, but it’s not the lack of thank yous or anything it’s the fact that her first instinct instead is to find something to complain about. No wonder I’m at my worst whenever we have to live together, she brings out the worst in me
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shrenvents · 8 months ago
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Professor Howlett
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Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)
Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader
Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.
Word count: 2.7k
Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.
That I’m a mutant…
That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.
However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.
Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.
Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.
And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.
...
This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.
Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.
“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”
“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.
“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.
“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.
Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.
Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.
He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.
“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.
“Yes and I’m sorry-“
“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”
“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.
“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.
“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.
He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”
“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”
I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?
“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.
Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”
Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.
He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.
Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.
“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”
“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.
His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”
“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.
“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.
“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.
“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that ain’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.
“You imagined it?”
He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.
After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”
He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.
“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.
...
After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.
“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is further strained when his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin, from that sentence alone.
So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.
“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.
Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coaxing his tone.
Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.
I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."
With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.
He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.
"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.
I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.
At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.
He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.
Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"
"Lo, it's too much-"
"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.
"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.
"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.
When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.
After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"
"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”
I giggle, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."
He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."
Part two
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choerrypuffs · 3 months ago
Text
red velvet hearts.
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pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader
genre: fluff, slight angst
word count: 7.7k
synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.
author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3
warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama
playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift
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RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU
“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 
“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 
“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”
“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 
“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 
You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 
“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 
“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 
“I was handling things just fine on my own.”
“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 
You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 
The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 
By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 
Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.
Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 
His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 
“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 
“You don’t look―” 
As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.
After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 
You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 
And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 
.
.
.
Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 
Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 
When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 
“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 
“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 
“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 
“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 
Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 
He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 
Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 
“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 
“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 
“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 
“So, you’re hiring?” 
You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 
Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 
“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”
“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 
Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.
“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 
You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 
“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 
It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 
“I’d love nothing more.”
Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 
He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 
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RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE
“Are you out of your mind?”
You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 
“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”
“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 
“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 
“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 
Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”
“What?”
“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 
“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”
“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 
“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”
“So, when do I get to meet him―”
You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 
You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 
“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 
“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 
Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 
You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 
“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 
You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 
“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 
His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 
But you don’t. 
“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 
And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 
He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 
Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 
“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 
“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 
“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 
“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 
The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.
“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 
His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 
“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 
It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 
“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 
“Pretty lame, right?” 
“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 
Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 
“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 
He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”
That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 
He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 
There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 
“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 
“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 
“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 
“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 
“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 
“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 
“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 
“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 
“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 
He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 
“That doesn’t sound―”
“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 
“...Seven.”
.
.
.
Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 
“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 
“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 
You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 
Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 
“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 
He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 
“Oh my God, your face!” 
“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 
“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 
“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 
“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 
Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 
You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 
“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression
“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 
“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 
“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 
“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”
“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 
You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 
“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 
“Why?” 
You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 
“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 
Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 
“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 
He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 
“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 
Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 
He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 
“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 
You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 
You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 
You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 
.
.
.
“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 
Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 
“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 
Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 
“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 
“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 
“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”
“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 
“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 
“I’ll help,” he insists. 
“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 
He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”
“What? A blueberry pie?”
Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.
“Peace.” 
And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 
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RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF
It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 
You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 
He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 
You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 
“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.
“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 
“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 
She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 
Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 
“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 
Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 
Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.
“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 
You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 
However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 
.
.
.
The cream puffs aren’t rising.
You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 
But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 
You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 
“Y/N, they’re burning.” 
Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 
“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 
“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 
He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 
Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 
When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 
His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 
“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 
He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 
“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 
“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 
“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 
“When I don’t want to see them.” 
You wait for him to continue.
“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”
He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 
But he steps back. 
“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 
“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 
“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 
“What’s stopping you?” 
“Just…one reason.” 
“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 
Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.
“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 
When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 
“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 
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RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE
When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 
And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 
You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 
However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 
So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 
“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 
You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 
“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 
Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 
When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 
The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 
And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 
“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 
You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 
“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 
Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 
“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 
You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 
Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.
When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 
“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 
He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 
“What?”
Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 
“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.
You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 
“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”
“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.
“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 
“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 
And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.
Peace. 
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EXTRA
“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 
Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 
“Why aren’t you asleep?” 
“Because I’m curious.” 
“If I answer, will you let me rest?”
“Depends on how good your answer is.” 
“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 
You smile against the crook of his neck. 
“Why?” 
“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 
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averagegazan · 2 months ago
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Stand with Alaa: A Family's Fight for Survival
Hello Everyone,
I am Alaa from the war-torn Gaza. I am reaching out to seek your help in taking care of my family amidst the hardships of war. I am a husband and father of two beautiful kids, 3-year old Ayman and 6-year old Maram. My beloved wife, Sahar, is pregnant, and so our family is soon expecting a new member, filling our hearts with joy and concern.
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Before the war disrupted our lives, I worked tirelessly as a translator at the public secter and as a freelancer. I took on multiple jobs to ensure my children had everything they desired. I was proud of my achievements both in my career and as a father. However, when the war began, everything changed.
A year ago, we were forced to leave our home in search of safety, leaving behind not only our belongings but also the stability we once knew. We lost everything—our clothes, mattresses, and my laptops. With my job gone and limited access to the internet, I’ve been unable to continue my freelance work.
Now, I find myself in a desperate situation. The cost of living has skyrocketed due to the ongoing blockade, making it impossible for me to afford even the most basic necessities for my children. Simple things like winter clothes and mattresses have become luxuries we can’t afford.
As we prepare to welcome our new baby, I feel an overwhelming sense of worry. I cannot provide for this little one as I wish to—I can’t buy a cradle, baby clothes, or even diapers. The price of a single bag of diapers is around $70—ten times what it should be. Additionally, Sahar needs essential nutrients and vitamins to ensure her health and the health of our baby.
As a father, my heart aches for my children. I worry constantly about their safety and future amid this relentless turmoil. If you can find it in your heart to help us during this difficult time, I would be eternally grateful. Your support could make a profound difference in our lives and help me provide for my family.
✅️ My campaign is vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #252 ) ✅️
Thank you for taking the time to read our story. Your kindness means the world to us.
Warm regards,
Alaa
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