#it took watching the remake to do it

[tee-wells]

oh. my. dog.

[quirkle2]

as a huge spyro year of the dragon fan i Hate the reignited trilogy they took all the charm and nostalgia out of it BUT ... spyro's walking/running animation ? they perfected that.

[male--byleth]

i have the interests of a 31 year old women its so over

[madegeeky]

@automatuck9 You were smart to stop watching Hellraiser when you did because boy are 9 and 10 bad.

Bad acting, gratuitous nudity (which I had not realized until the 9th movie was largely absent from the rest of the sequels), a different actor for Pinhead (which really threw me off), and poorly written plots which jumped frantically about because the writer didn't know what they wanted to do (10 is the worst at this by far). It's too bad for the 9th one because that's the only one that takes after the original and has the person who opens the box be someone who does want the sort of experience the Cenobites offer.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

there's a commercial on the local radio station for like at&t or something but it's in collaboration with the wicked movie, so it's a dad basically being like "my whole family is obsessed with wicked, our wifi can barely handle it!" idk it's just. i'm not entirely sure what it is i feel but i just remember how i was obsessed with so many musicals (including wicked) when i was in middle school and it was considered REALLY uncool. like i was a little weirdo for it, and i was always singing and always people were like "ugh shut up already." one time i tried to show my friend "for good" when i graduated eighth grade and her boyfriend (my former friend turned fucking bully asshole) told me "no, don't corrupt her with that!" by showing it to her. which is its own thing but. i don't know it feels weird to hear on the radio someone proudly say their family is obsessed with a musical, even if it is a fake family. it's like ha. in my time i got fucking bullied for that. there is also something strange i feel regarding that specifically as it is an advertisement, which means 1) the point is to advertise the movie (and the wifi) and 2) it's socially acceptable to some level to be obsessed with something that is being hyped up like some big cultural moment.

[frightmeister]

really proud that i got to get in a ref to my fave nightmare on elm street movie into the tags. also glad to have those mostly done.

[gayferrari]

@ anon who sent the ask about what I think of Charles's racing. tumblr ate it :( trying again as a text post

Charles! babygirl! I think he's very good. Top 3 on the grid this season for sure. He's been consistently in the top 5 for most of his time at Ferrari TO ME. Great racecraft. His overtakes are sexy. His race pace is solid. Race management has been excellent for the past year or so especially. He can put together a magnificent quali lap. He consistently does The Most in the car he's given. He does have his driving preferences but he's just really adaptable all around. I am blowing him kisses.

Rough areas: he's steadily been improving at wet weather racing but he doesn't blow my sock off (but also this year almost every wet weather race we've had has been #cursed for Ferrari tbf). Also, and most importantly: he drives like he thinks he can make up for the car's shortcomings purely based on his performance, which is... very hard to do in F1, and it's why when he overshoots the mark he misses hard. In the immortal words of Giles Richards, Is it not better to fail gloriously than accept the ignominy of mediocrity? <- I know we quote this all the time but it's dead accurate for Charles. He really lives by it. He's the kind of driver who'll overreach and risk spinning rather than settle for a P5, which makes for great entertainment and when he's on he is ON, but it's a mindset that can backfire in a sport that rewards consistency first and foremost when you're gunning for titles. Like, consistency in results (points) is as important as consistency in performance, and sometimes that means minimising the damage for the day and moving on and regrouping, and Charles's "go big or go home" approach is not always the best.

HOWEVER... maybe it's too soon to say but I feel like this might be the season where Charles learns the art of waiting for the right moment to maximise his chances. Maybe I'm being too optimistic and have blorbo-focused vision but I speedran through the 2023 season recently after not following it last year, and I think there is a difference in how he's been dealing with not-quite great results and building on it. I also think he's gotten better at communicating his needs to the pitwall mid-race — he used to come across like he needed to trust his guts a bit more and the strategy team a bit less. But this might be recency bias talking or just a consequence of the fact that Ferrari strategy are way more consistent under Fred than they used to be. Again! I could have blorbo vision! But I really think he's still improving in some of his weaker spots

[sincerelybubbles]

hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.

Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.

"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.

"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.

"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."

It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.

The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?

"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.

"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."

"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.

"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."

Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."

"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.

"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."

"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."

"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.

"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"

Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.

"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.

You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."

You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.

You're unsuccessful.

The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.

No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.

You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.

Because it's more than physical.

He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.

That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.

You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.

"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.

"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."

You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.

He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.

"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."

You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.

"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."

He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.

"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."

"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.

Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.

[smileysuh]

dumb frat boy

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 

tw/cw. yandere/stalker sub themes, ‘unknown’ caller, he’s horny, mentions of porn/masturbation, weed/alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, nipple pinching/nipple worship, fingering, dirty talk, praise, hyuck has a thick cock, cum/fullness kink, creampie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Angel (his) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  We're back in the Ghostie au! I'm so happy to be able to put out a fic for Hyuck a year after the original story captivated so many of us <3

Prologue

“I’ve got the best idea ever,” Hyuck says the moment after he’s released his first breath from the bong.

Johnny lets out a sigh, leaning back in his recliner. “This better not be another themed wet tittie car wash fundraiser.”

“Excuse me, that idea was brilliant- pairing up with our sister sorority and being horny on cars while in costumes that somewhat resembled cars from the Disney movie Cars made us more cash for the Humane Society than we’ve ever raised, so dial it down on your tone there, Ghostie.” 

The elder frat boy rolls his eyes at the nickname. When word got out about how he wooed his girlfriend last Halloween, the term ‘Ghostie’ ended up sticking, and Johnny’s never been able to let down the sexy stalker angle, even this year's pledges know about it.

“As I was saying,” Hyuck continues, “I figure I’ll take a page out of your book, and do some weird phone call thing to woo my Angel.”

“Oh, so you’re finally gonna admit your feelings to your best friend?” Johnny asks in shock, sitting up to take a better look at the younger frat boy.

“Yes, but after a week of toying with her,” Hyuck announces. “It will be fun. We all know she got her nickname Angel because she’s really more of a demon, she’s going to love this shit.”

“Well, I guess you know her better than I do,” Johnny muses. “So what’s the plan?”

“Basically, you took the best phone call stalker with Ghost Face, but I figure there are other options out there. Have you ever seen Black Christmas?” 

“Like… the one from the seventies?” Johnny’s apprehension is clear in his features, and he reaches for the bong to take another hit.

“Yeah, the one where the dude calls the sorority and is a horny fuck on the phone.”

“Isn’t there some weird incest plot and jaundice thing in the second movie though?”

“No one watches the second movie! We don’t claim the way they butchered the story with that!” Hyuck exclaims, feeling agitated already. 

“I feel like, if you called her, and did the whole Black Christmas thing, she wouldn’t know what the fuck movie you’re referencing.” 

“They did a remake in 2019,” Hyuck insists.

“Did anyone actually watch it though?” Johnny’s an avid horror film lover, and if he hasn’t seen the remakes, it’s not looking good for you to be able to pick up the references, a thought that throws Hyuck off.

However, even though he’s been swayed, Hyuck won’t give up on this idea. “Look, think of it as a Love is Blind sort of thing- I can make her fall in love with me over the phone, and then when I reveal myself as her best friend, she’ll be all ‘woah, we’re soulmates!’”

Johnny looks as skeptical as ever. “Are you sure that’s the way this is going to go?”

Hyuck scrunches his nose up in distaste at the lack of support. “Yes.” 

The elder frat boy takes in a deep breath, shaking his head. “If this is what you want to do, I won’t stop you. I just… I think your Angel would react better if you were just straight up with her. Maybe there’s a reason the two of you have never gone past the friend stage. I think the good thing about me doing this last year, was I was just acquaintances with Tiny, I made it clear off the bat that I just wanted to know her better. If she didn’t want me, then that would be fine. If you do this with Angel, and she finds out it’s you and doesn’t return your feelings, you’re going to ruin a friendship.”

Hyuck thinks about what Johnny’s just said as he watches the tall resident Ghostie take another bong hit. It’s true- In Hyuck’s heart of hearts, he knows that… there must be a reason the two of you have never hooked up, but it’s a reason he’s never been able to identify.

The cocky side of him refuses to believe it’s because you’re not attracted to him- there’s definitely sexual tension between the two of you, so it must be something else. 

He’s so tired of toeing the line, especially since you’ve always been kindred, mischievous, horny little souls.

You were with Hyuck when he pranked Sigma Veta Tau last Christmas and put glitter on their ceiling fans. You were with Hyuck when he put a rotisserie chicken in Alpha Tappa Zeta’s air vents. In fact, you’ve been present at almost all of Hyuck’s master plan shenanigans. 

There’s something going on between the two of you and he knows it. 

Last year, when Johnny had pulled his little semi-stalker Ghostie stunt, Hyuck had noted that whoever was behind the anonymous calls had some balls to hit on a girl that way, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t live up to that.

“Listen,” Hyuck sighs. “This is between us. Angel is going to try to figure out who’s calling her, and I need you to keep your mouth shut, okay?”

“Fine,” Johnny agrees, shaking his head. “Hyuck, I love you, but sometimes I forget how much of a dumb frat boy you are.” 

“You know what?” Hyuck grabs at the bong. “I’ll take that as a fucking compliment.” 

Sunday

You’re in the middle of a much-needed nap. Curled up on your fuzzy blankets, your textbook long since discarded while your mood lighting twinkles through the space, it’s the most comfortable you’ve been all term. It’s late October, the nights come early, and you’re starting to not mind the cool air that seeps through the crack in your window.

It’s because you’re dead asleep, that when your phone rings, you don’t even check who’s calling. You simply bolt up, dazed and confused, reaching to pull your cell to your ear. 

“Hello?”

At first, all you hear is breathing on the other end of the line, and you roll your eyes. You’re no stranger to dumb calls, spam calls, and the like- but then, “Angel?”

Well, this is definitely not a spam caller, they wouldn’t know your nickname if it was.

“Who’s this?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to look down at your screen. It’s a ‘No Caller ID,’ and you let out another exasperated sound.  

“A friend,” the person on the other end of the line tells you. 

“A friend I don’t have in my contacts?” you scoff.

“Burner phone, baby.”

“And what would be the point of getting a burner phone just to call little ol’ me?” you sigh, relaxing against your pillows and pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance. 

“Why so serious, Angel?”

“Jeeze, dude, if you’re going to do the whole creepy caller before Halloween cliche, at least stick to your character.” You can’t believe he’s quoting Health Ledger’s Joker at you now. “Who are you even trying to be? Ghost Face is so last Halloween, we all know Johnny knocked that shit out of the park. A copycat sequel is just… early 2000’s.”

“Okay, let me drop character for just a second,” the man on the other end of the line sighs, and you giggle at how his voice modulator emphasizes his own exasperation. “Think, horny telephone guy.”

“I wouldn’t call Ghost Face particularly horny, he was just a nerd.”

“I’m not Ghost Face!” he insists. “Scream came out in the mid-nineties, think earlier than that.” 

“What, am I supposed to be some kind of horror movie expert?” you scoff. 

“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” the guy sighs. “Have you seen Black Christmas?”

“Never even heard of it.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “Well, don’t go watch it, it has some cult following but it’s not even one of my favourites- the reason I chose the dude from that movie is because he’s a horny little fuck and calls a sorority house and some shit- and also, don’t look up the second movie, I don’t claim the sequel.” 

“Wow, I love that you chose a character based purely on horniness and not if the movie is even good,” you giggle.

“Well, Johnny took the best slasher caller! What was I supposed to do? Go all ghost child from The Black Phone movie?”

“What’s The Black Phone movie?”

“Ethan Hawke? Horror veteran, who plays the hero author in Sinister, turned bad guy in the 2021 film by the same director?” 

You let out a whistle. “TBH, dude, it sucks Johnny got to Ghostie first last year, because I’d bet money you know more about horror movies than he does.”

“I one hundred percent do!” 

“Okay, so back to the point,” you laugh. “You’re calling me as this horny dude from some Halloween Christmas movie- for what?”

“To talk to you?” he suggests. “To uh… be horny… at you?” 

“And what does this accomplish? I mean- we all know Johnny’s Ghostie story from last year, he called a girl every day, told her to come to his frat party, and revealed himself there. Is that your game plan?”

“I was thinking about it, but it sounds kind of lackluster now.”

“That’s because it’s not an original idea at all,” you point out.

“Sequels aren’t always original,” the man counters. “Lots of movies have the same plot just different characters, some recurring- look, it doesn’t have to be original. The original angle to this Halloween movie is that I’m going to be way more horny than Johnny probably ever was last year.” 

“And I’m just going to allow that?” you grin. 

“Yeah, because we both know why you have your nickname, don’t we, Angel? You’re a dirty little minx, and you’re going to love this.”

“Except, what if, Halloween comes, and you’re a frat guy that I think is ugly?” you ask. “If you know me, you know I have very specific tastes. There’s only a handful of guys I’d actually be interested in, what makes you think you’re one of them?”

The line is dead for a few stagnant seconds, then, “I just am, okay?”

“Cocky little fucker,” you giggle.

“Don’t be rude.” 

At this point, you’re pretty sure you know who’s on the other end of the line. 

There’s been a few tells from your best friend, Donghyuck. For example, he’s the biggest actual horror buff in the NCT frat. He idolizes Johnny, and was always salty that Mark got the Chicago man as a Big and not himself, so he had a close eye on the events that took place last year in NCT’s ‘Ghostie’ Saga. On top of all of this, there’s an extreme familiarity in the way he’s talking to you, a preexisting natural tint to his diction. Lastly, Hyuck’s the cockiest little dumb frat boy of them all, and it’s one of the reasons you’ve always loved him… one of the reasons you’ve also always kept a bit of distance from your best friend whenever situations have had the option of turning romantic.

Well, if this is how he wants to make his move at you, so be it.

Maybe he’ll convince you that he can be more than a good fuck- you’d never risk your friendship for a one-night stand, no, he’ll have to prove that he could go all in, that he deserves you.

And if all else is just extra, you can at least have some fun toying with Hyuck while he thinks he’s the one toying with you. 

“Okay,” you sigh, stretching. “Let's do this, but we can start tomorrow, you woke me up from a nap, and I’d very much like to get back to it.” 

Monday

“I’m not waking you up from a nap, am I, Angel?” 

“Nope,” you grin, mischief working its way through your mind as you think of the best way to throw Hyuck off. “I was just watching some porn, flicking the bean, you know, that sort of thing.”

You hear him choke. “F… Flicking the bean?”

“Come on, you have to have heard of flicking the bean!” you insist. “Buddy, you’re the one who’s supposed to be calling me to be horny, this is your perfect opportunity!”

“Right, I uh…” he coughs. “How’s… how’s the bean flicking going?”

“Dude, do you know anything about seduction?” you scoff. “‘How’s the bean flicking going,’” you imitate. “Lame!”

“Rude!” he counters.

God, he’s so obviously Hyuck and you bet he doesn’t even realize it. 

“You know what, if you must ask, the bean flicking is going really well.”

“What kind of porn do you watch?” he questions next. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease.

“Tell me,” Hyuck insists. 

“Might have to get you to beg if you want to hear those kinds of details.”

“I’m the creepy phone stalker, I call the shots.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure you do, buddy.” 

“Stop calling me buddy.”

“Okay, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude either!”

“Then what am I supposed to call you? It’s not like anyone knows the name of the slasher from Halloween Christmas, or whatever. You’re no Ghost Face, friend.”

“It’s Black Christmas,” he corrects you. “And I’m pretty sure his name is Billy.”

“Wow, how sexy, Billy,” you scoff. “You really didn’t think this one through that well, did you, buddy?”

“Original Ghost Face is who? Stu Matcher and Billy fucking Loomis,” Hyuck points out. “It’s not the worst name in the world.”

“Tell me one person who refers to Ghost Face as Billy Loomis though, one person, and I’ll tell you what porn I watch.”

“The… screenwriter?”

“Jesus Christ, dude. That’s such low-hanging fruit.”

“Now tell me what porn you watch.” 

You let out a deep sigh. “All this bickering has me not in the mood anymore.”

“Weird, I’m extra in the mood now.”

“Cuz you’re a weirdo who gets off on play fighting, I bet.” 

His voice takes on a whiney pitch when he says, “Tell me what porn you watch!” 

“Honestly?” You’re tired of this conversation, but you see one last opportunity to toy with Hyuck before you hang up. “Hentaid on Porn Hub, I’m all about that alien, tentacle shit,” your voice takes on the air of a damsel in distress when you muse, “No mortal man can ever satiate me, I’m afraid.”

“Holy shit,” Hyuck whispers. “Are you for real? Tentacle porn?”

“Uh huh, now, goodnight, buddy.” You hang up on Hyuck with a shit-eating grin on your face, knowing you’ve left him something to think about. 

Tuesday

“Hey,” you say, sitting down next to your best friend in the on-campus burger joint where you spend your Tuesday two-hour period between classes. “I’ve got something to talk to you about.”

Hyuck is mid-bite of a burger, and he holds up a hand, covering his obnoxious eating style. “Just a sec,” he mumbles. 

You wait patiently, staring at your friend while he finishes up. He’s in a black hoodie, and black t-shirt, and his laptop is open next to where he’s eating his combo meal. He’s usually here before you are, scoping out a booth and food so you two can chill in peace before your shared history course. 

History isn’t your major per se, it’s more of a special interest, and the same goes for Hyuck. He’s a film major- another obvious dent in his plan to fly under the radar as your phone stalker who just happens to know everything about horror movies. 

“Okay,” Hyuck says, swallowing the last of his large bite of food. “What’s up?”

“So on Sunday, I got a phone call from some dude with a burner phone,” you explain, watching closely as Hyuck’s brows raise just a moment too late to be legitimate surprise.

“Yeah? What did he say?”

“He’s trying to recreate Johnny’s whole Ghostie thing from last year, but as is the case with most sequels in the horror genre, he’s kind of missing the mark.”

Hyuck chokes a little on his food, and he reaches for his Coke to wash it down. “What’s he doing wrong?”

“What an odd question, Hyuck,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. “But, to answer it, he’s just… not loose enough. He feels too rigid. I gave him an in last night, if you know what I mean, and he just, fumbled it.”

“An in?” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“You know, an opportunity to be horny with me.”

“And you want him to be horny with you?”

“I mean, that’s the whole point isn’t it? He promised me he’d be more horny than Johnny was last year, but I feel like Johnny probably had this whole daddy dom thing down- I don’t know what this new guy is trying to give, but he’s not giving, you feel me?”

“Huh, that’s weird,” Hyuck shrugs, picking up his burger again. “Do you have any guesses who it might be?”

You shrug. “He told me it was someone I think is hot. So that means it could be Jaehyun- God, you know how sexy I think Jaehyun is,” - you’re relishing in the way you get to tease Hyuck like this - “it could be Jeno, or Jaemin- I don’t think I’d even mind if both of them came up to me on Halloween, full original Scream style- Jaemin is definitely the Stu Matcher character, though.” 

“Jeeze, Angel,” Hyuck grimaces, putting his burger down and leaning back in the booth. “Do you have to talk about two of my best friends tag teaming you while I’m eating?”

“Sorry, babes,” you snicker. “I just think this week is going to be fun, and I can’t wait for my Billy Halloween Christmas stalker to find his A-game.”

You half expect Hyuck to correct you on the movie title, and you see him bite his tongue, fighting the urge to throw his own cover under the bus in a bid to protect the sanctity of cult films. But alas, Hyuck shuts himself up with another bite of his burger, and with one last look at your friend, you pull out your laptop to actually get some work done.

Wednesday

“Hey, bud,” you answer your call with a grin, twirling your hair around your finger while your eyes skim your textbook. “What happened yesterday? You never called.”

“You looked busy,” comes a curt retort.

“Oh… did you see me with Hyuck?” you stifle a laugh, of course he’s going to play this jealousy angle, when in reality, he was probably just butthurt about you toying with him. 

“It was hard not to notice you with him,” he responds. 

“Someone sounds jealous.”

“What’s your relationship with him?”

God, Hyuck must be very desperate to be trying to get details out of you about how you feel about him, through his alter ego.

You take a deep breath, closing your book and leaning back in your chair. “We’re close,” you start.

“But just friends.” 

“Just friends,” you confirm. “I guess, I mean, obviously he’s cute. There’s no argument about Hyuck being cute. And he’s fun, he’s cocky, he’s mischievous- I guess my one concern with him is if he could do something long term. I may come off as a dirty little demon child, but in reality- I don’t want to put all my eggs in one guys basket if he’s busy collecting eggs, if that makes any sense.”

“You want a guy who just wants you, who puts in the effort.”

“Exactly.” 

“I’m putting in effort,” your ‘mystery man’ points out.

“I suppose this could be considered effort.” 

“I spent twenty five bucks on this burner phone.”

“Wow, buddy, that must have broke the bank.” 

“I have money!” he insists.

Hyuck definitely has money, it’s one of the reasons he’s probably so cocky. He comes from a large line of Lee’s, a family group that owns development all around the country. You’ve tried not to let any gold digging inklings stain your perception of the frat boy though, that wouldn’t be fair to him.

“Hey, friend?” you ask, choosing a base level nickname for this man who is clearly Hyuck.

“Yes, Angel?”

“Were you thinking about it yesterday?”

“Thinking about what?”

“Me, you know… watching alien tentacle porn and flicking my bean.” You try to make your voice sound innocent, but you can’t help the mischievous grin that works it’s way onto your face. 

You can hear him swallow thickly. “Hold that thought, I’m going to call you back.” 

“Wait-” before you can get an explanation, the line goes dead, and you release an annoyed huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

He’s such a little shit, leaving you hanging like this-

Two minutes go by, then five- and just as you’re starting to be really annoyed, Hyuck calls you back.

“Took you long enough,” you snap.

“Listen, Angel, I needed to get in the mood. I’m too rigid talking to a pretty girl like you, had to take some of the load off.” You can tell, even under his modulated voice, that Hyuck has most definitely just gotten into some weed.

This is so classic him- and to be completely fair, you’ve witnessed the effects of Mary-Jane on one mister Lee Donghyuck. He’s much more suave while green, less anxious, more willing to take risks.

“So, to answer your question,” Hyuck continues, letting out a breath. “I have been thinking about you. Been thinking about your cute voice, how it would sound begging, whining, whimpering- what little noises you’d make choking on cock, or tentacle-” Hyuck laughs. “I’ll be honest, I don’t have an octopus dick or anything. If you let me, you’ll have to be okay with a human style back breaking.” 

You’re shocked.

Had he really just said all of this to you?

Was weed all it took for him to pull up his big boy panties and lay some actual sin onto you?

You can’t ignore the way your pussy flutters with interest at his words, and you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “I’m sure we can make it work… what kind of tool are you packing, buddy?” 

Hyuck chuckles. “It’s thick, I think it will do the job.”

Hyuck isn’t the tallest frat boy, but in no way is he the smallest either. He’s average, and to think that he has an above average girthy dick- well, you can’t help lick your lips in interest. 

“Stalker got your tongue, Angel?” Hyuck asks. “You’ve just gone awfully quiet.”

“I’m just…” you swallow thickly. “Just thinking.”

“About my thick cock splitting you open?” 

God, your pussy is throbbing now- “How… our first few calls were so awkward-”

“I promised you dirty, didn’t I? Needed some courage first, but… I can tell you’re not mad about it.” 

You’re definitely not mad about it.

You think maybe part of you would be upset if you didn’t know your ‘mystery caller’s’ identity- but the safety of knowing, in your heart of hearts, that this is Hyuck- it changes everything, and you can allow yourself to feel the pleasure already beating through you.

“I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 

“So…” you find it hard to even speak because he’s so right about his assessment that it hurts. “So… you’re more of a switch?”

“I can be. Generally, I’m not about strict roles in the bedroom, but if you’re into that sort of thing, I can see what it’s about.” 

“Tell me more about being a switch?”

“Don’t want to give you too many details about myself, these calls are about you, Angel.” 

You let out a groan.

“Be patient,” he reminds you. “And tell me, are you as wet right now as I am hard?”

This time, the sound you release is really more of a moan, and it makes Hyuck chuckle darkly.

“I’ll take that as a yes… are you gonna touch yourself after this? Gonna do all the work I can’t do, not yet, anyway.” 

“Maybe…”

“I like the thought of that, two horny people, whacking off together after a phone call, different rooms, but we’ll be on each other’s minds.” 

You get the suspicion that Hyuck is going to be on your mind for a whole lot longer than simply your upcoming bean-flicking session. 

Thursday

“I’m here, I’m here! What’s the emergency!” Mark asks, out of breath, his cheeks flushed from the cold outside and having just run across campus.

“It’s not an emergency, don’t worry, just sit!” you tell him, pushing out a chair.

“Angel, you texted me, and I quote,” he pulls out his phone, “911, meet me at our spot in the library asap.”

“Well, I wanted you to come,” you shrug.

“God, you’re as much of a drama queen as Hyuck is,” Mark sighs, taking his seat across from you. 

“Speaking of Hyuck…” you grin, leaning forward and clasping your hands together, “your roommate decided to go full Ghostie this year.”

“Wait, he’s not doing Ghost Face for Halloween-”

“No, I mean, like, stalker phone call Johnny Ghostie,” you clarify. 

“What?” Mark’s expression is blank, and he looks completely unimpressed.

“Basically, he called me on Sunday, did this whole thing about doing a Black Christmas character or some shit- he’s been calling me from a burner phone with a voice modulator-”

“Jesus Christ,” Mark sighs, covering his eyes with his hand. 

“The moral of the story is, Halloween night, I’m calling dibs on your room.”

“My room?” Mark peaks out at you through his fingers.

“Your roommate has to get laid. Actually, scratch that, I have to get laid… with your roommate.” 

“This is so-” Mark groans. “I thought we were over this stalker Halloween thing to get girls. Don’t any of us have respect or standards anymore?”

“You’re frat boys, Mark, so the answer on that one is going to be a no from me.”

“Why are you even into this?” Mark questions further. “Like- what’s so sexy about any of this?”

“I mean… it shows Hyuck cares?”

“He cares enough to get a burner phone and a voice modulator and call you and be creepy and horny? Wow, what a huge chivalrous act of love.” 

You narrow your eyes at Mark Lee. “I’m not enjoying your sarcasm, mister.”

“And I’m not enjoying this,” Mark retorts, pointing between the two of you. “Fuck, fine, have my room on Halloween.”

“Last thing though, Hyuck can’t know that I know that he’s the one calling me.” 

“Wait, so this isn’t a bit? He’s committed to trying to trick you?” Mark leans back in his chair, his expression getting even more bleak. “The two of you are crazier than I thought.” 

As you open your mouth to respond, your phone rings, and you look down to see Hyuck’s burner ‘No Caller ID.’

“Heya, buddy,” you answer, bringing your finger to your lips to shush Mark.

“Watcha up to?”

“Just in the library with a friend.”

Hyuck’s tone shifts. “Which friend?”

“Mark, you probably know him.”

“Of course I know fucking Mark. Why’s he with you?” 

“Just chatting… why? You jealous?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!” You let out a laugh. “Buddy, settle down, we both know I’m not into Mark Lee, we’ve talked about this before.”

“We’ve never talked about Mark,” Hyuck responds, and you realize, you may have just betrayed that you know who he is-

“I mean, he wasn’t on my list with Jaehyun, or Jeno, or Jaemin-” you quickly cover your blunder, and Hyuck releases an annoyed sound.

“I get it, I get it,” he groans. “Fine, finish up your time with fucking Mark, then.” 

“Don’t be salty about this,” you warn.

“Yeah, whatever.” 

Friday

It’s the final day before Halloween, and if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Hyuck is working. The SVT and NCT frats are the primary workers at the on-campus bar, Skeets, so they have a deal that NCT works the Friday before Halloween, and SVT works the Saturday. 

Knowing these details, you’re also aware that it’s possible Hyuck won’t be home till three am, so you’re a little shocked when you get a call at one.

“Hi, Angel.”

“If it isn’t my favorite stalker,” you grin, pausing your horror film- in all truth, you’d decided to watch Black Christmas, and now you can see why Hyuck told you not to bother, he hasn’t nailed the deranged attitude of the main villain at all. 

“Watcha doin?”

“Not much, you?”

“Not much,” he responds.

“Are you sure?” you counter. “Cuz something tells me maybe you’re working right now… did you get a break, buddy?”

“I’m not working,” he insists. 

“Sure you’re not,” you laugh, dropping the line of questioning. “Hey, tell me again why you chose Billy from Black Christmas?” 

“Seriously?” Hyuck lets out a sigh. “I guess I just wanted… an excuse to be horny on the phone for you, even if it’s just for a week.”

He sounds defeated, and you’re not shocked. Halloween is the busiest night of the year at the bar Hyuck works at, if anything, you’re surprised he even had a moment to dip outside and call you.

“You’re cute,” you muse. “You sound tired, so I’ll let you go, but uh… I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You will.”

“And how will I know it’s you?” 

“You just will, goodnight, Angel.” 

Saturday 

You’ve just arrived at the frat party, and already, you’re on the hunt for Hyuck.

At this point, you’re tired of the games. You feel closer to Hyuck, in some odd, sinister sort of way- closer than you ever have before. And you’re tired of hiding it, tired of this weird cat and mouse- you just want to have a conversation with him, to get everything out into the open so you can truly discuss your feelings.

You find him by the beer pong table. He’s in a full denim fit, and you can’t put your finger on who he is as you approach.

“Hey, Hyuck,” you greet, tucking into his side so he can hear you over the music. “Nice Canadian Tuxedo.”

“Do you know who I am?” he asks.

“Uh…” You look at him blankly. “Are you talking about your denim costume? Or the way you’ve been calling me all week?”

Hyuck stares at you in shock. “Uh…” he clears his throat. “I’m Ken… you know, from the Barbie movie.” 

“Right…” you trail off, wondering if he’s going to touch on the Black Christmas side of things.

“Also… what do you mean? About me calling you all week?”

“Hyuck,” you sigh. “Please don’t try to avoid this. Just be honest. It’s you. I know it’s you.” 

He looks at you, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind.

“You told me you’d reveal yourself tonight,” you continue. “I know I kind of just threw you under the bus, maybe I ruined your master plan or something, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t know it’s one of my best friends who’s been calling me all week being horny.”

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice lowering. His eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to get a read on you.

“Hyuck,” you let out a laugh, “I’m not mad at all, but I think we should go to your room and talk this out a little, don’t you?”

“I guess that’s a good idea,” he acquiesces. 

“Then let’s go.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers so you can drag him to the stairs that lead to the second floor. You don’t say anything as you move, you’re on a mission, and what you need to discuss with him is better said alone than in a crowd of horny Halloween partygoers.

You make it to the privacy of his room, and you shut the door behind you. “So?”

“So?” Hyuck moves through the space, and you notice him heading for his bong.

“Hey, don’t do that,” you sigh.

“Don’t do what?” he asks.

“You don’t need to get high to have this conversation.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t want you to be high when we do this.” 

Hyuck lets out another deep breath. “This isn’t how I planned things.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” you admit, watching him take a seat on his bed. “How did you see tonight panning out?” 

“I suppose I figured I could get some drinks in, liquid courage, that sort of thing. And then, maybe I’d reveal myself at the end of the night or something.”

“Are you really so scared of me that you need to be drinking to confess how you feel?” you ask, melting a little. You approach Hyuck, sitting carefully on the bed next to him while he faces clear inner turmoil.

“I’m not afraid,” he states, but you can tell from the tone of his voice that there’s something else going on. “I just… You told me you only want a man who can commit, a guy who only has eyes for you- and, I do, but… we both know my playboy track record, and I guess… I just worry about hurting you.”

“Do you want to hurt me?” you question, tilting your head as you try to understand him.

“No, never.”

“Do you think you’re at the point where you could settle down a little? I’m not trying to get you to stop partying, I just mean… committing to one girl, is that something you think you’re capable of?”

“If it’s you, then yeah… I think so,” he nods, finally meeting your eyes.

He looks so vulnerable, and it’s very different from how you usually view your mischievous friend.

“Hyuck,” you whisper, unable to help the way your hand raises to cup his cheek. “I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. If there’s something real here, and it’s not just you being a horny, dumb frat boy.”

“Okay, rude,” Hyuck laughs, showing you a glimmer of the him that you know and love, “It’s more than being horny… but… in all honesty, seeing you in this fucking faerie costume has me all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah?” You lean closer, grinning. Your lips ghost over his when you say your next words, “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Hyuck sucks in a sharp breath, his pupils dilating- you’re so close to him, and you can make out all the pretty shades of brown in his irises. Gosh, he really is a pretty frat boy. 

His hands find your hips, and he tugs your body closer. You can feel him breathing, his gaze darting between your own and your mouth. You watch his tongue dip out to wet his lips, and he swallows thickly.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, finally smashing his lips to your own. 

It’s not gentle by any means, but it’s not necessarily aggressive either- one word to describe this kiss, is: desperate. He’s so eager, and you kind of love it, love the way he tugs you flush to his own body, one hand moving to cup your cheek- his tongue glides against your own and you stifle a moan, shifting in his embrace so you can wrap your arms around his neck.

It feels so good to be pressed against him like this- you’re actually kind of shocked at how good it feels. And his hands, exploring your body, keeping you close, fingers digging into your hips-

Hyuck is everywhere, devouring you like you’re his last meal.

“Oh,” you whisper, when Hyuck’s mouth moves to your neck. “By the way, I called dibs on your room with Mark, he won’t be bothering us.”

Your dumb frat boy pulls away from your throat, a grin on his face. “You really knew it was me all along, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle, buddy,” you laugh.

Hyuck shakes his head, reaching to lock the door before his hands ensnare you again. He pushes his body against yours, urging you to move backward until your calves hit the bed. Before pushing you down, he removes your faerie costume wings, and only once the more delicate part of your costume is discarded, does he shove you onto his mattress.

“Hyuck,” you giggle, looking up at him with starry eyes.

“You look so good like this,” Hyuck muses, tugging his denim ‘Ken’ style vest off to reveal a body hardened from Frat mandated work out brother time. He’s not too big, not too built- Hyuck still has some pudge on him, but you kind of love it. You love that it’s not a full six pack and bulging biceps- you can imagine that when this is all done, he’ll be lovely to cuddle with.

In fact, you’re not sure it would matter how muscled Hyuck is. Sure, it helps that he’s physically fit and hot, but- at this point in your friendship, you’re attracted to him for so much more than his body.

No man makes you laugh like him. No man has spent the time that he has to understand you and make you feel comfortable with him knowing you, the true you, the you that you don’t get to show many others.

Hyuck is just… he’s good for you, and he always has been. That goodness has so far been a friend capacity sort of thing, but you’re excited about the new development in your relationship. You think there’s true potential with him, and it makes you dizzy as you stare up at one of your best friends.

“I kind of want to eat you out, Angel,” Hyuck admits, one hand finding your thigh and pushing your short dress even higher up  your leg.

“Funny, I kind of want to suck you off,” you grin, lifting one foot out of your shoe to tease your toes across the front of his jeans.

“So… sixty-nine?” Hyuck asks, gently tracing his fingers across your exposed skin, setting tingles of pleasure off to erupt and skitter through your form.

“That would work, but… I guess… I kind of want to lay with my head lolled off the side of the bed, your cock in my mouth, and your fingers pinching at my nipples while I work my own clit at the same time.”

“Jesus,” Hyuck breathes, swallowing thickly as he looks up at you. “How could I say no to that?” 

“Then, when I’m close to cumming, you can eat me out, get me there, then fuck me stupid for your own release.”

“It’s funny,” Hyuck chuckles, “Here I thought I was the horny one calling you and trying to be a creep, but you’re the one with the dirty mouth and the great ideas.”

“Yeah, your whole Black Christmas thing really wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever heard,” you tease.

“How many times do I have to admit it was a shitty plan but I just wanted to get close to you?”

“At least once more.”

“Fine. Now flip around, loll your head off my bed, let me put my cock down your throat and pinch your nipples while you toy with your cute pussy.”

“How do you know my pussy is cute?” you ask. “You haven't even seen it yet.”

“I’ve been imagining, baby, and as a film major, my imagination is pretty fucking good.”

You giggle, getting into position for Hyuck. He stands near your head as you loll it off the side of the bed, and you get a good view of his bulge straining in his jeans.

“You’re excited,” you muse, cupping him through the denim.

“Who wouldn’t be?” he laughs, undoing his button, then the zipper. “Fuck, you look so good laid out like this.”

“Yeah?” You pull the top of your dress down, releasing your boobs.

“Fuuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pausing his motions on his jeans to reach down and massage your newly exposed breast. “I knew your tits would be perfect.”

You moan at the feeling of his warm hands. His fingers pinch at your nipple and your moan turns into a whine. “Feels good.”

“You feel good,” he counters.

“Get your cock out,” you instruct, feeling impatient.

“Start rubbing your pussy,” Hyuck retorts with a laugh.

“Yes, sir,” you respond teasingly, reaching one of your hands down to your thighs. You slip it under your dress, deciding on taking your panties off alltogether. 

Hyuck continues to massage you as you pull off your thong. 

You can’t help yourself, you toss it at him, and Hyuck lets go of your breast in favour of catching it. “Fuck, these are cute,” he says, admiring your panties.

“I knew I’d be getting laid.”

His tone shifts to the darker, more annoyed side of things. “Yeah?”

“And don’t get all angsty, I knew I’d be fucking you tonight.” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Hyuck grins, putting your panties in his pocket before he undoes his jeans, shifting them down his thighs.

The fucker isn’t wearing underwear, and you get a good view of his cock for the first time.

“Fuck, dude, you weren’t lying when you said you were thick,” you muse, licking your lips.

“I’d never lie to you about my cock,” he laughs.

You slip one hand between your thighs, stroking your wet core- it’s crazy how turned on you are from this, but part of you thinks this has been building for a while- for a week, actually.

Hyuck strokes his cock, looking down at you. “Ready for this?” he asks.

“Put it in my mouth,” you command, opening wide for him.

“If I’m going to deep, push my thigh,” he tells you as he slips his cock past your lips.

You moan a sound of affirmation around him, immediately beginning to suck on his tip, getting used to his size before you take more.

Hyuck is surprisingly gentle with how much he’s allowing you to take. If you hadn’t been pacing yourself, you’re sure he’d be pacing you of his own accord. 

One of his hands finds your breast again, pinching the nipple and sending jitters of pleasure down to your throbbing core.

You groan louder around him, sucking more into your mouth as you increase the pressure on your clit.

“This is so fucking hot,” Hyuck moans, thrusting gently into your mouth so you can lay flat and still, allowing him to do most of the work while you rub your pussy deliciously.

You can only let out a sound of affirmation as he uses your mouth.

With your eyes closed, you can focus fully on the feeling of pleasure that’s building inside of you. 

When you’d imagined fucking Hyuck for the first time, this hadn’t necessarily been a position at the forefront of your thoughts- but when he’d suggested eating you out, you’d realized this is exactly what you’d wanted. 

You want to give back to him, want to show him how much you’ve appreciated him taking the leap and telling you how he feels- even if it was in some weird, dumb frat boy, phone call kind of way. 

The way he’s pinching your thighs is actually delicious- and then, you hear him spit, and you feel the cool liquid hit your chest. This time, when he rubs his thumb over your nipple, he spreads his spit across your skin, making it even more intense.

“Part of me just wants to cum on these perfect tits,” he admits.

You make a very clear sound of disagreement, and Hyuck pulls his cock out of your mouth. You’d been salivating so much that as he moves away, your own saliva drips back down onto your face from his length. You swallow thickly, finding your voice. “Need you to cum inside of me.”

“Fuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pinching your nipple even harder. “You and your creampie kink.”

He slips his cock back into your mouth, and you greedily eat him up.

Then he leans further over your body, his fingers joining yours on your core. “You’re so fucking wet,” he muses, pushing your hand out of your way so he can rub your clit, gently fucking your face as he does so.

It’s a shallow face fucking, as he’s bent over your laid down body to access your core, but you don’t mind.

Your eyes are still closed, and you’re enjoying every sensation, bringing your free hands up to your breasts to massage them and pinch your own nipples.

“You look so sexy, want you to cum so bad so I can fuck you stupid,” he tells you, rubbing your clit even harder.

You rut your hips up toward his hand, a non verbal motion that tells him you’re close.

God, it’s like he’s been in your pants before- he knows exactly how to stroke and massage your clit-

“And you’re still sucking me off so good-” he continues. “And grabbing at your tits too, you’re my insatiable little Angel, aren’t you?”

You moan deeply around his cock, and Hyuck fucks you a little harder, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, feeling tears in your eyes.

“Shit, sorry, Angel, fuck, that just felt so good- can I do it again? Can I fuck your throat again?”

You make a sound of affirmation, shocked at how your body had reacted to his cock being fully inside of your mouth. A tingle of excitement had run through you, your nipples getting intensely sensitive, your core throbbing-

Hyuck does it again, hitting the back of your throat, and the same sensation happens. You can feel yourself getting desperately close to the edge, and you hardly have to do anything. Other than pinching your own nipples, Hyuck is the one taking care of you, and you kind of love it.

“I can tell you’re close, Angel,” Hyuck chuckles. “Fuck, gonna cum from me fucking your face and rubbing your clit, right?”

You moan desperately, wiggling your hips. Hyuck reads your cue, rubbing your clit even harder.

Now, you can’t help but pull off his cock, pushing his thigh to give you a bit of space.

“You good?” he asks, motions pausing.

“Yeah,” you tell him, swallowing thickly as you grab his cock to stroke him off. “Just keep- fuck, keep rubbing me like that, I’m so close-”

“Fuck this,” Hyuck mutters, and all of the sudden, he’s pulling away.

You let out a whine- only for him to spin you on his bed. He sinks to his knees, drawing your core to the edge where your head had just been, then he dives in, his lips immediately suctioning around your clit.

Two fingers push into your aching core and you whimper desperately, grabbing at his hair to keep him on your pussy as he works you closer and closer-

“Hyuck-” you cry out, muscles clenching-

One more slurp on your clit has you topping over the edge, entire body electrified by the orgasm surging through you.

You slap a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your sounds as he works you through your high. He doesn’t quit, doesn’t pull away- he sucks your clit through your entire high, until your thighs are shaking on his shoulders and you’re on the verge of tears.

“Okay-” you whimper, pushing at his head. “Sensitive-”

Hyuck finally lets up. You open your eyes to watch him stand, pulling his fingers from your core and sliding them into his own mouth.

“You taste just like Halloween candy, baby,” he muses, eyes clouded with lust.

“I wanna taste,” you whisper.

Hyuck pushes his jeans completely off, and then he gets on top of you, smashing his lips to your own. The flavour of your pussy is hot on his tongue, and it invades your senses, driving you wild as you kiss him deeper, threading your fingers through his hair.

His cock nudges between your pussy lips as he grinds down against you, rocking his hips.

“Fuck me,” you tell him, moving your mouth to suck on his ear lobe.

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, shivering from the sensation of your tongue on his ear. “Want you naked first.”

He pulls away just long enough to tug your dress up and over your head, then he returns to his spot, his cock rutting against your core once more.

The two of you have been friends forever. Hyuck knows you have an IUD, he’d been there for you when you’d gotten it last year, when you’d just wanted to stay in bed and rot for a few days. There’s no need to discuss birth control or safety- all there’s left to do, is have his thick cock fill you in ways you’ve been wanting all week.

Hyuck adjusts, grabbing his base so he can push his tip into your throbbing hole.

“Fuck,” you whimper in his ear, clutching his shoulders as he pushes an inch into you.

“You good?” he asks, breath hot on your throat.

“So good,” you respond, locking your legs around his hips.

He pushes deeper into your pussy, and your core welcomes him in, walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock. 

Hyuck bottoms out, and you both groan deeply. He forces his lips onto your own again, and it’s a clash of teeth and tongues.

It’s animalistic in the best sort of way- like you’ve both been caged up for as long as you’ve known each other, and you’re finally letting your beasts out to do the most primal thing imaginable.

There are no thoughts in your mind as Hyuck begins to fuck you, there’s only you, him, and this intense feeling of pleasure.

You feel so connected to him- missionary isn’t always the most fun position, but with Hyuck, it feels right. It feels like this was meant to be your first time together, face to face, lip locked, breathing each other in, moaning desperately as he takes you as his own.

“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, gently biting on your lip. “Your pussy is taking me so fucking well- first your mouth, now this- how do you expect me to last long?”

“I don’t,” you giggle. “You made me cum so hard on your tongue, I’m about ready to be filled with your cum and then lay here.”

“I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you after this.”

“You better,” you grin.

Hyuck smiles against your lips, kissing you again as he fucks you even harder.

The stretch of his girthy cock is unlike anything else- and it feels like heaven as he pounds you into his mattress.

“Rub your clit?” he suggests.

“I can’t- I can’t cum again,” you whimper, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“I’ll have to train you to cum more after this,” he promises.

You can only grin, drawing his lips to your own again as he uses you to find the ends of his own pleasure.

His whimpering sounds are like music to your ears- fuck, Hyuck is too hot to even imagine. Had this guy really been one of your best friends for this long without you ever exploiting this?

You’re so fucking happy he���d called you and been weird all week- it was the perfect foreplay, and now, you’re completely enraptured by him.

“Shit,” Hyuck groans. 

“You close, baby?” you ask.

“Fuck, call me baby again.”

“Baby,” you whimper, “your cock feels so good in my tight pussy.”

Hyuck moans even louder. 

“Just like that,” you encourage him, tightening your legs on his hips. “Keep doing that- right there-” The tip of his cock is hitting the perfect spots inside of you, and you’re gasping from the feeling, burrowing your face in his throat and panting against his skin.

“Shit, Angel-”

“Cum for me, baby, cum in my pussy,” you urge him.

That’s all it takes for him to explode, letting out a deep groan as he releases deep inside your core, coating your walls with him.

His thrusts falter, his breathing laboured, entire body shivering-

You stroke the back of his head, cooing in his ear, helping him through it until he’s finished, coming to a stop ontop of you and breathing heavily.

“Good boy,” you tease.

Hyuck lets out a deep chuckle, and it turns into a sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And you’d love that.”

“I would,” he admits. “Okay, fuck, I’m gonna pull out, gonna grab some tissues and sweat pants- we can head to the bathroom down the hall and hopefully clean up a little, then we’re gonna cuddle.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” you grin, laying there as he groans and gets off of you, following through with his intentions.

Soon, cum is being wiped from your pussy and you’re being helped into sweatpants.

The two of you exit his room, and you’re very pleased to see that most of the party is downstairs, leaving his floor pretty vacant. 

You make your way to the bathroom with him, clutching his hand.

Once there, you both clean up, and you listen to Hyuck splash water on his face while you pee, making sure all his cum is out of you.

The two of you make it back to his room, collapsing into bed. He pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close.

“Before I pass out… how did you know it was me on the phone?” he asks.

“Out of everyone in the frat, you idolize Johnny the most. It wasn’t a reach that you’d recreate his Ghostie thing last year. On top of that, you’re a film major, you know horror movies better than anyone else. And, you’re a horny fucker, which is something I’ve always loved about you- I just… I needed you to make a move, which you never really did, until now. It just… made sense that it was you. The way we talk to each other, I could tell it was you from the very first call.”

“Here I was, thinking I was all suave and shit.”

“You were very suave, baby,” you grin, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Happy Halloween, Angel.”

You giggle. “Happy Halloween.” 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! find my other nct frat fics (including Ghostie) HERE. I made this meme for this fic because it's so them.

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “So, I’m gonna finger fuck you stupid,” he explains, pushing his digits back into you. “And then, I’m going to apply pressure, right here-” Hyuck’s hand smooths across your abdomen, even the slightest push makes you feel his fingers deep in your core, and you release a whine of pleasure. “Yeah, you’re going to love this,” he confirms with a grin. 

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, oral ( f receiving), pussy worship, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, squirting, dirty talk, praise, Hyuck holds the reader down by her abdomen, etc… I petnames: (y/n’s) Angel. (his) Baby. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader

bonus

You love Hyuck, you do- but sometimes (especially when watching movies) he has this tendency to… well, never shut up.

“Okay so, coming up, when the alien pops out of his body, the director didn’t tell anyone this was going to happen, so when Sigourney Weaver and the others react, it’s genuine shock and surprise-”

You love his facts too, you do… but… sometimes, they get a bit much.

“Baby,” you coo, cuddling closer to your boyfriend, “Can we just… watch the movie?”

“We are watching the movie.”

“I mean… God, I’m going to sound like a bitch, but can we get through like… ten minutes without a fun fact?”

“But… my fun facts are fun.”

“They are, baby, they are,” you assure him, patting his chest, “I just…” you sigh, “ten minutes?”

“I can think of a distraction for my mouth,” Hyuck grins.

Your pussy immediately flutters, picking up on what he’s saying. “Yeah? Don’t you want to watch the movie?”

“I’ve seen it a billion times.” His hand rubs your shoulder and he nuzzles against your cheek, breath hot on your skin. “Come on, let me eat out your pretty pussy. I’ve been wanting to overstim you for a hot minute- I think I could get three or four out of you while you’re watching.”

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[artist-issues]

I Hate How She Talks About Snow White

"People are making these jokes about ours being the PC Snow White, where it's like, yeah, it is − because it needed that. It's an 85-year-old cartoon, and our version is a refreshing story about a young woman who has a function beyond 'Someday My Prince Will Come. "

Let me tell you a little something's about that "85-year-old cartoon," miss Zegler.

It was the first-ever cel-animated feature-length full-color film. Ever. Ever. EVER. I'm worried that you're not hearing me. This movie was Disney inventing the modern animated film. Spirited Away, Into the Spider-Verse, Tangled, you don't get to have any of these without Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937.)

Speaking of what you wouldn't get without this movie, it includes anime as a genre. Not just in technique (because again, nobody animated more than shorts before this movie) but in style and story. Anime, as it is now, wouldn't exist without Osamu Tezuka, "The God of Manga," who wouldn't have pioneered anime storytelling in the 1940s without having watched and learned from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs in the 1930s. No "weeb" culture, no Princess Mononoke, no DragonBall Z, no My Hero Academia, no Demonslayer, and no Naruto without this "85-year-old cartoon."

It was praised, not just for its technical marvels, not just for its synchronized craft of sound and action, but primarily and enduringly because people felt like the characters were real. They felt more like they were watching something true to life than they did watching silent, live-action films with real actors and actresses. They couldn't believe that an animated character could make kids wet their pants as she flees, frightened, through the forest, or grown adults cry with grieving Dwarves. Consistently.

Walt Disney Studios was built on this movie. No no; you're not understanding me. Literally, the studio in Burbank, out of which has come legends of this craft of animated filmmaking, was literally built on the incredible, odds-defying, record-breaking profits of just Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, specifically.

Speaking of record-breaking profits, this movie is the highest-grossing animated film in history. Still. TO THIS DAY. And it was made during the Great Depression.

In fact, it made four times as much money than any other film, in any other genre, released during that time period. It was actually THE highest-grossing film of all time, in any genre, until nothing less than Gone With the Wind, herself, came along to take the throne.

It was the first-ever animated movie to be selected for the National Film Registry. Actually, it was one of the first movies, period, to ever go into the registry at all. You know what else is in the NFR? The original West Side Story, the remake of which is responsible for Rachel Ziegler's widespread fame.

Walt Disney sacrificed for this movie to be invented. Literally, he took out a mortgage on his house and screened the movie to banks for loans to finish paying for it, because everyone from the media to his own wife and brother told him he was crazy to make this movie. And you want to tell me it's just an 85-year-old cartoon that needs the most meaningless of updates, with your tender 8 years in the business?

Speaking of sacrifice, this movie employed over 750 people, and they worked immeasurable hours of overtime, and invented--literally invented--so many new techniques that are still used in filmmaking today, that Walt Disney, in a move that NO OTHER STUDIO IN HOLLYWOOD was doing in the 30's, put this in the opening credits: "My sincere appreciation to the members of my staff whose loyalty and creative endeavor made possible this production." Not the end credits, like movies love to do today as a virtue-signal. The opening credits.

It's legacy endures. Your little "85-year-old cartoon" sold more than 1 million DVD copies upon re-release. Just on its first day. The Beatles quoted Snow White in one of their songs. Legacy directors call it "the greatest film ever made." Everything from Rolling Stones to the American Film Institute call this move one of the most influential masterpieces of our culture. This movie doesn't need anything from anybody. This movie is a cultural juggernaut for America. It's a staple in the art of filmmaking--and art, in general. It is the foundation of the Walt Disney Company, of modern children's media in the West, and of modern adaptations of classical fairy tales in the West. When you think only in the base, low, mean terms of "race" and "progressivism" you start taking things that are actually worlds-away from being in your league to judge, and you relegate them to silly ignorant phrases like "85-year-old cartoon" to explain why what you're doing is somehow better.

Sit down and be humble. Who the heck are you?

[alotofpockets]

Confidence | 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Reneé Rapp x Reader

Summary: Reneé asks you to come to her first day off shooting Mean Girls to give her the confidence she needs to play Regina George. (based on this scene)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut

Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.2k

-----

Reneé usually didn’t have a problem with showing off her body, she was proud of the way she looked, and often showed the world her confident side. She wore revealing outfits all the time, and never really gave a care in the world what others thought about her appearance. However, as the first day of shooting Mean Girls came closer, she started getting more and more nervous about portraying this confident character in front of the cameras.

Of course, Reneé had played Regina before, and knew the character well, but in front of the cameras it was different. On stage she got into character and played the part in front of a lot of people, but they were all sitting at a distance, and observed not only her but also the rest of the set around her. On set the cameras and the crew would be focussed on her playing the character the way they had envisioned her, of course they did the same for the other actors there, but the scene she was most worried about was Regina’s opening scene. 

It didn’t take much convincing on your girlfriend’s end to get you to join her on set for the first day of shooting. You loved supporting her in person whenever you were able to. Supporting her didn’t just mean her music and her acting, you supported her in every aspect of life, and she did the same for you, that is why your relationship worked so well. 

While it was an early call, Reneé still took some time to show you around the set. You hadn’t been to the Mean Girls set yet, and were looking at everything full of amusement. When you were younger, you had watched the original, and you always loved the movie, so seeing the set of the remake made you feel very nostalgic.

You sat to the side as Reneé was getting ready in the hair and make-up trailer, talking with her costars and the hair and make-up team. It was nice getting to know the girls she’d be working with for the next couple of months. 

Before you headed to the set they’d be shooting at this morning, you took Reneé to the side. “I just wanted to say that you are amazing, and you look incredible. You are going to crush this scene, and every scene after. You are the perfect Regina George, and I cannot wait to see the lines we rehearsed together come to life. I love you, baby. Have fun out there, and I will be right behind the crew supporting you.” Reneé pecked your lips, “You’re the best, but shush now or you’re going to make me cry.” You both laugh, and head into the hall the scene would be shot in. 

They were shooting the scene where Cady met Regina for the first time to the song ‘Meet the Plastics’. It included a close up shot of Reneé signing the song, while the camera slowly panned out, revealing more of her. It took a few takes to get the close up right, but when the crew was happy with the results, they moved on to the part that Reneé was most nervous about. It was a shot where she would sensually open her leather jacket and show off her boobs.

The first few takes were cut, “Reneé can you give us a try with some more confidence please?” The director asked and she nodded in response. Reneé looked up to you for some reassurance, and found you clenching your thighs together. You hid it well, no one else around you would notice, but Reneé knew. That familiar look in your eyes, and the subtle movements, she knew all too well. That sight alone gave her the confidence she needed to act the scene exactly how the directors had in mind. 

Once the scene was done, and Reneé had quickly said bye to her co-workers she walked up to you, “I knew having you here would do the trick. Wanna head back to my trailer?” Reneé wouldn’t be in the next couple of scenes they were shooting, so she had some free time. She knew just the way she wanted to spend that free time. 

After entering the trailer door behind you, Reneé pressed you up against it. Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, but a smirk started playing on your lips once you saw the look in your girlfriend’s eyes. “I told you you looked incredible.” You tease, letting your hand drag over her chest. When your hands found the zipper, you undid it the rest of the way, and took off the jacket. Your hands moved up her arms slowly until they reached the nap of her neck. “You are so beautiful, baby.” You tell her before she crashes her lips onto yours.

The kiss was instantly heated, you were very turned on from watching the scene Reneé acted in, so every small touch of your girlfriend letting her hands explore your body sent electricity throughout your body. Her lips made their way down your neck, kissing, sucking, and licking the spots you knew were going to have small bruises later. Your soft moans filled the trailer.

Reneé pulled you towards the bed in the back of the trailer. Only breaking the kiss, once you made it to the bed, so she could take off your shirt, and your bra. “So pretty.” She said before taking one of your nipples into her mouth, and swirling her tongue around the hardened bud. With one of your hands behind her back to pull her closer, and the other massaging her breasts, you fell back onto the bed. 

It didn’t take long for both of your clothes to be thrown onto the ground, and your moans filled the trailer once more, as Reneé drags her finger through your folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby.” Between moans you manage to say, “I told you, you looked incredible.” Reneé chuckled, “Once again proving that you are a boob girl.” Her comment made you laugh, but it got caught short as she entered one of her fingers into you, and started fucking you at a fast pace right away. 

Your moans start to get so loud that you’re afraid that someone will hear you, so you pull Reneé closer and crash your lips together to muffle the noises. You felt yourself nearing your high fast, as she entered a second finger, and used her thumb to run circles around your clit. “Baby, I-” Reneé’s darkened eyes meet yours, “Fuck, I’m close.” Reneé fastens her pace even more, loving the way she can feel you tighten around her fingers. “Come for me, baby.” Her sultry voice brings you over the edge. You moan her name loudly, no longer being able to control yourself as she fucks you through your orgasm. 

You let your head fall back onto the bed, while you come down from your high with a heaving chest. Reneé cleans off her fingers on the sheets, before she places soft kisses all over your face. “You did so great, baby. I should take you to set with me more often.” She says smiling down at you, admiring the way your sensitive body reacts to her soft touches. 

-----

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[theorphicangel]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, oral (m.receiving), blowjob, praise, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh

PART ONE.

“You have a valentine’s date?”

“God, O’Hara don’t even try to hide the surprise in your voice, why don’t you.”

You cross your arms, frowning at your roommate who was currently sitting next to you on the couch. The two of you were watching a remake of a new movie that had come out recently. An hour or so had passed, the both of you stuck within a comfortable silence before your words had distracted him.

“How could you blame me?” He begins, his gaze still on the television screen. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone home before.”

“So you keep notice on who I bring home?”

A pause runs between the two of you.

“No.”

“Liar.”

Miguel clears his throat. “It’s none of my business anyways, what you do.”

After a few beats of silence, Miguel speaks again, this time with a teasing tone. “I wouldn’t want to be like you anyways, keeping track of who I sleep with.”

“I do not keep track!” you exclaimed.

“How come you remembered Cindy’s name then?”

You hesitate, stuttering off. “You–you talk about her a lot.”

“Bullshit.” A grin creeps up across his lips.

“You jerk, I was gonna ask you for a favor but since you wanna play that game, nevermind.” You crossed your arms, turning your attention back to the screen. Simultaneously, you had just sparked off Miguel’s own curiosity.

“What’s the favor?”

“I don’t want to ask you anymore, I’ll ask someone else.”

“Like who? Peter?”

“Don’t be mean, mig’.”

The movie continues to play in the background for a minute or two before Miguel starts getting restless.

“So who's the guy then? Someone you paid?” Miguel’s grin doesn’t have the time to stretch across his lips this time as you throw a pillow to his face.

“Hey!”

“Watch your mouth, O’hara.”

The two of you had been roommates for just under a year. You had moved in due to an emergency situation. A few troubles with your finances, student loans and the loss of your job resulted in you desperately responding to a roommate advert posted on the internet. Moving in at the beginning was awkward, the two of you avoiding each other, minimal conversation revolving around the weather and who would take out the trash.

But all it took was one night for the both of you to open up to each other, a shift in your realization that Miguel wasn’t as bad as you thought. A few too many drinks one night led you to learn a lot about each other. Like how he didn’t like the dark yet had a weird obsession with space. You found that he had a brother, a few years younger than him who was almost a spitting image. For him, he learned how you once had wanted to be a painter but soon switched career paths to psychology as well as taking up a foreign language.

Ever since that night, you’ve managed to maintain a good friendship with Miguel, completed with a little teasing here and there. On some nights, when you were left alone in your room, you laid back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about him. Particularly, thinking about him and the girls which he brought home. Your mind wandered to the possibilities of what he would be like with them. Imagining what it would be like to be in their position.

How would he touch you, feel you, look at you? Would he be gentle and take his time or does he rush, his passion taking over his whole body? It was questions like these that plagued your mind. You began to create a fantasy in your head, touching yourself at the thought of him touching you; imagining his movements to be slow and cautious, taking you all for himself.

Speaking of, you’ve recently noticed his lack of…visitors lately. Instead of hiding away with them in his room, he’s recently been spending a lot of late nights in your company.

“What’s your plans for Valentine's Day?” you queried, trying to maintain a casual tone. “Taking Cindy out for a romantic dinner?”

Miguel scoffs, shaking his head a little. “Why don’t you ask her out yourself, since you’re so obsessed with the woman?”

A small wave of ease flows through your mind at his answer. Yet it wasn’t exactly the answer you wanted. You pat Miguel on the chest mockingly.

“I knew she said no to you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here you kno—” Unfortunately you weren’t able to finish your sentence as a small scream left your mouth, as Miguel pinched your thigh.

“Watch it, imbécil.” he glared, before changing the topic. “But I’m serious, who's the poor guy then?”

You shoot an offended glare back before repositioning yourself on the couch, turning your body to face him properly.

“Someone asked me from work.”

“And you didn’t have to get on your knees and beg them first?” Playfully, you hit him on the arm and he lets out a fake wince of pain.

“Shut up. And no, for your information, I didn’t.”

Miguel hums, his eyes quickly glancing back to the television screen as he tries his best to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his lower abdomen. Guess he should cancel tomorrow then.

“But I had a favor to ask you.” you turn your body, shifting your position to face him. Miguel merely raises a brow, humming deeply again with his eyes still glued on the screen.

“I was wondering if you’d…show me how to—uhhh how do I put this? Suck someone off.”

Miguel froze. Oh, now you had his attention.

“¿Qué?”

You freeze, clearing your throat as his eyes snap back to you. “I mean it was just a suggestion– I-I’ve watched a few videos but I’m still kinda—I just— I mean, I don’t–”

“You don’t know how to give a blowjob?”

It was a bit more blunt than you had wanted to put it but…yes.

You nodded silently, now choosing to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted some tips, y’know? What do guys generally like? I’ve read that some like it differently than others so…”

“Why are you asking me?”

Ah yes, the million dollar question. Why were you asking your hot ass roommate for blowjob tips? You had the choice to ask anyone: your best friend, or another friend or even a random stranger on the internet. Why him?

“You’re…experienced.” was all that you could come up with. “And not in a bad way!” You quickly correct. “ but I can assume you’ve had your good shares of…that.”

Miguel raises a brow again, swallowing thickly. Anxiety was now bubbling at the base of his stomach. You were asking him how to please a man and immediately his mind jumped at the thought of you with your valentine’s date at the end of the night. Ah, you were asking for your date.

“Well, did you just want tips or did you…” he trails off without finishing the sentence, thinking how weird it would be to finish the sentence that had popped up in his mind.

“ ‘Or did I’ what?” You repeat, tilting your head ever so innocently.

“Or did you want to practice on me?”

/

And that’s how you got here. Kneeling on the floor between the thighs of your very own roommate whom you have only known for less than a year. Was this what you were expecting when asking for advice? Of course not. But there was a sense of excitement that grew in the pit of your stomach and you weren’t going to complain about it.

“So how do I start?” You glance up at Miguel, your eyes wide with innocence and curiosity to learn. Just from the way that you looked at him, he was already beginning to get hard.

“Well, you just start.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay, doofus. So you expect me to just get into it? No foreplay or anything?”

“There’ll probably be some foreplay with your date and stuff but…we don’t have to do that.”

For a split second there’s an aura of hesitation between the two of you; him regretting his last words and you almost wanting to reject his assumption. Mutually, there’s a little voice inside of you that tempts you both to take the chance and do this properly.

But of course, this was a lesson.

A mere, innocent favor from a roommate. With no strings attached. Or feelings for that matter.

Even if it killed you both to suppress them.

You nod silently, taking mental notes. Miguel raised his hips a little to pull down his sweatpants, enough so that you could access him with ease. Now you’re starting to get nervous. Your heart was palpitating so much that you could hear your own heartbeat thump in your ears. “I-”

“If you don’t want to, we can stop.” He quips quickly, noticing your hesitation.

You pause, reflecting for the final time whether or not you wanted to do it. Once you made your decision, you glanced up at Miguel.

“It’s not like I have much time left to practice, right?”

Miguel raises a brow. After all, Valentine's day was tomorrow so you needed all the practice that you could get. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” you vocalized, trying to sound more confident in this way.

“Okay, lemme just–” Miguel mumbled to himself as tugs down his boxers. You noticed the way the bottom of his shirt hiked up a little, presenting his happy trail; a dark bush of hair leading all the way down to his…

Oh.

It’s big. Bigger than you thought. And he’s not even hard yet.

Miguel seethes a little, his cock only semi-hard. He pumps himself a few times before removing his hand, leaving it up to you. His arms now rest on the back edge of the couch, widening his thighs a little more for accessibility.

‘Holy shit’, you think to yourself, how the fuck were you supposed to deal with this?

Miguel caught onto your expression, panic drawn all over your face. “We can–”

“No.” you interrupt him, reading his apprehension too. His concern for you is more than obvious. “I want to.”

Miguel chuckles a little, “I was going to suggest to take it slow but yeah, if you’re still up for it.”

You swallow thickly, edging nearer before planting your hands on his thighs. This is so alien to you. After many months of tiptoeing around him at a distance, it was scary how fast you found yourself in a position of intimacy with him.

Sure, many times before have you fantasized about what it would be like to get close to him. With the sounds of moans coming from his bedroom late at night, it wasn’t hard for you to figure out how much of a woman pleaser he was.

Slowly, your hand wraps around his cock, feeling him get harder and harder with every second that passes. You think back to the videos that you had watched previous to this, noticing that most of the women decide to give a few strokes before going in with their mouth. You imitate them easily, watching your hand move.

You take in every fine detail: every vein, every twitch, every shade leading from the tip to the base. The crown of his cock is thick, becoming redder with every stroke as juices of pre-cum subtly spilling away.

“Jus’ like that.” Miguel murmurs and you notice how his tone is a little lighter than before. “When you’re ready, you can lick the tip a little, warm yourself up to it.”

You hum in response. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet at least.

Once again, you think back to the porn videos you had watched, imitating the women by tracing little circles across the tip of his dick. Miguel lets out a drawn out groan and little by little you can feel his body relax as you continue on. It tastes salty. The tip of his cock is reddened and soft.

For a minute or two you continue to trace circles, closing your eyes in the moment, allowing yourself to relax and get rid of any nerves or doubt. Miguel says nothing more, his teeth softly biting down on his lower lip, he watches as you hesitate, unsure of how to continue from here.

Miguel’s hand soon reaches for your chin, causing you to pause and tilt your head up towards him. His hand cups right under your lips and your face turns to confusion for a split second before he lets out his command.

“Spit.”

For some reason, your body listens to him without a second thought.

“It’s okay if it gets messy,” he advises, “the messier the better.”

You make a mental note of that.

You make sure to be careful with your teeth as your lips part around his cock. Once again you take it slow, letting your mouth adjust to his size. He’s bigger and thicker than you had expected, barely halfway before he already fills up your mouth. Your eyes water as you attempt to take him whole, a decision which you realize quickly was too hasty as you reach your gag reflex.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t– mierda!” Miguel sits up a little, trying to pace you. Your eyes water and saliva continues to pool out of your mouth, dripping down to his balls. Your cheeks are full of his cock and as if following his instincts, Miguel almost wants to hold your head there. It takes all of his resilience not to place his hand at the back of your head. He let out a grunt at the warmth of your mouth, coaxing him to stay a little longer. But unfortunately if he does, then he may cum sooner rather than later.

You feel his fingers tap your shoulder, “Hey–” he manages to draw out, “brea–breathe through your nose.” You attempt to do so, just letting off a few inches of his dick, letting your hand stroke whatever you can’t take. With you, you can build up a pace more freely, bobbing your head up and down. You close your eyes, concentrating on keeping your rhythm, a steady pace for now.

Fuck it, Miguel gives into his instincts, letting a hand cup the back of your head ever so lightly.

“Fuck, keep going… you’re doing so well.”

Miguel’s praises boost your confidence, the simple phrase removing past doubts that had cast over you. You pause to allow yourself to breathe, your hand stroking his length in the meanwhile and Miguel seems to cup your chin again.

“Mírame.”

One simple order and he has you hooked and, god, you have a gorgeous view.

His dark brows are deeply furrowed. Chest rising and falling heavily, His hands are now by his side, prominent veins from his other arm lead to the back of his hand which currently grips a pillow on the couch. His eyes are beginning to droop, with his head tilted back slightly. You notice how his Adam apple bobs in his throat with every guttural hum that he makes. His mouth is just about agape enough for you to spot his pink tongue peeking out at you.

And as for him? The sight of you is more wondrous than he could ever imagine. Your eyes are also heavy-lidded. Lips plump and wet with saliva dripping down your chin. This is a side of you that he’s never seen before. Your eyes glow with submission, the innocence and inexperience peeling off of you. If you keep looking at him with that expression, he’s not particularly confident that he’ll be able to hold on for that long.

“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?”

You hum a little before your lips open wide to wrap around his cock again. Yet this time, you manage to keep eye contact. Another unrestrained grunt leaves Miguel’s mouth, his lips parting once more.

You’d say that you’re confident now, relaxed more than ever – confident enough to begin exploring. Keeping his cock in your mouth, you begin to bob your head at a rhythmic pace and at the same time a free hand reaches down to his base, lightly tracing over his balls.

A sharp inhale leaves his mouth. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that, nena?”

You hum in response, the vibration of your mouth causing a helpless moan from your roommate. You focus near the tip of his cock, returning back to tracing circles over the slit. One hand still pumps the rest of him whilst the other gently teases his balls with your fingertips.

He’s closer than you think. And you can tell by the way that his hips begin to shift a little as if he’s trying to get more of your touch. He tilts his head back, chest rising and falling at a more dramatic pace. “Shit–shit–shit-m’gonna, m’gonna cum– if– if you keep going… oh fuck!”

“Wan’ me to swallow it all?”

You’re practically teasing him at this point. Fuck, he’ll do anything, anything. And this time he doesn’t hold back in vocalizing this, the words ‘yes’ falling from his tongue, pleading, begging you to continue. “Yes, yes, don’t fucking stop.”

You decide to grant him his wishes, turning to a faster pace as you stroke his length with your hand. You can feel his cock twitching, thick veins rubbing against your palm.

“You close, mig’?” you taunt, watching as he closes his eyes in pure euphoria. He nods, inchorant words fall from his lips in a babble as his hips jerk upwards and his thighs tense around you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck m’cumming! M’gonna–”

Miguel manages to cut himself off with a deep groan, lifting his hips up as you wrap your lips around him for the last time. His cock twitches, veins pulsating as your mouth is filled with his white seed. You swallow as much as you can, trying to bear the salty taste. His cum is thick, spurting so much out you think you won’t be able to keep up. Some leaks out, dripping down his shaft. As soon as you’ve swallowed, you lap up what you missed.

“Fuck, wait, wait–”

“M’cleaning you up.” you mumble. You can tell how sensitive he is. Just from your tongue lightly licking his length so as to not waste anything, his cock twitches. Once satisfied, you pull away, your tongue licking at your bottom lip.

Apart from the sound of the now forgotten movie playing in the background and the sound of light panting coming from Miguel, there’s a silence between the both of you.

You lean back, resting on your heels as you begin to grow aware of your actions.

You’ve just sucked off your roommate. Correction. Your hot ass roommate.

Neither of you know what to say. You begin to avoid his eye contact, feeling the awkwardness creep in. Yet, it fails to fully entrap you as Miguel chooses to bite the dust and speaks first.

“For someone with a mouth that doesn’t shut up, I’m surprised you know how to use it well.” he mutters, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.

All tension from your body begins to evaporate, a slight smile appearing on your lips.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” you frown, wiping off remnants of his cum mixed with your saliva from your lips with the back of your hand.

“Nothing, nothing. You were just…good for someone who hadn’t done anything like this before.”

Unlike when you were sucking him off, his praise causes heat to rise to your cheeks, your face burning up. And like a few moments ago too, you continue to avoid his eyes.

Clearing your throat, you move to stand, gesturing that you’re about to go to your room. The movie is just about over but neither you nor him were worried about that anymore.

“Any other advice that I should take?” you say.

Miguel frowns, taking a few moments to think deeply. If he’s being completely honest with himself, that orgasm has crushed him. Leaving him with nothing but thoughts of you and that sweet mouth of yours. Just thinking about it almost makes him hard again.

A part of him almost dares to tell you to forget your date tomorrow and to go out with him tomorrow. The card and flowers addressed to you, wait patiently in his room, a last-minute gift after weeks of building up the courage to ask you. All that courage is lost now though.

He’s too late.

“No.” He says, finally, going against his instincts. “Just do exactly what you did for me.”

“No complaints?”

“No complaints.” He clarifies. A deep pit of regret and hurt builds up again in his lower stomach, a feeling that he’ll have to start getting used to. He deserves it, he thinks, for not asking you sooner. He has no right to be jealous that someone else beat him to it. Not when he wasn’t dropping enough signs to prove that…

he’s falling in love with you.

Before entering your bedroom, you pause, the door leading to your bedroom slightly ajar. “Hey.”

Miguel glancing up to look at you.

“Thanks.”

Miguel says nothing more and really he should be the one thanking you for the heaven that you’ve just taken him to. He waits until he hears your bedroom door close and lock before letting out a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding in.

After he’s sure that you won’t return, Miguel pulls out his phone, tapping his screen until he reaches a certain page.

‘Are you sure you want to cancel your reservation for a ‘table for two’ on the 14th of February ?’

After a mere moment of hesitation, he confirms. His thumb clicking on ‘yes’.

part 2.

[totheblood]

protective!spencer reid headcanons

a/n: this is a remake of one of my headcanons i did for ellie but i completely rewrote it cause yea... AI AUDIOS throughout, also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

spencer is extremely protective of you, more than anyone else in his life... he just doesn't know how to show it

he knows that the job entails danger and as much as he doesn't like it, there isn't much he can do about it

but that doesn't stop him from trying

when you partner up on cases together he always makes sure he enters first, a hand outstretched to make sure you're always covered

"it's clear, you can come on in now," he would whisper, gun still drawn. 

"spence, you don't have to do that every time."

"i know," he'd say with a small smile, "but i want to."

he tries not to coddle you. he has seen you take down unsubs twice your size(which he would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on), but sometimes his protective instincts just take over.

he'd rather put himself at risk than see you hurt. even after you're cursing him out, hands in a balled up fist banging on his kelvar vest. 

"what the fuck was that?" you'd yell, face getting hot, "i had him, and you could've gotten yourself killed,"

with an ice pack pressed to his forehead where the unsub got a punch in he closed his eyes gently, "i know, i know... i didn't even think, i just saw his hands on you and i just... look, i'm sorry for scaring you but i'm never going to be sorry for protecting you."

but when you get injured on a case, he just loses it

"what were you thinking, running in like that with no back up?" he'd scold while gently dabbing at the wound on your arm. 

"spence, I'm fine, it's just a scratch."

"just... be more careful next time, okay?" he'd say softly, looking around to make sure no one was watching before pressing a gentle kiss to your forhead, “i… can’t lose you.”

or if you were partnered with someone else and you came back with even a semblance of a bruise, he'd have his eyebrows furrowed, lips twisted into a scowl as he approached you, hands gently holding your arms, his face softening when you wince at the contact

"what happened?" he'd say voice tight, looking up at morgan who was trailing in behind you, looking guilty as ever. 

as derek opened his mouth to speak, you spoke up, "it wasn't his fau-"

"i didn't see him coming," morgan shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, "i got him off of her the minute he was on her."

"he shouldn't have had a chance to be on her," spencer spat back angrily.

"spence, it all happened in a matter of seconds," you say, voice sickeningly sweet as you tried to sooth his nerves, "i didn't see him coming either,"

"i know," he sighed, closing his eyes as he took a shaky breath in, "i know, but all it takes is one second and you could be..."

"i know," you pull him into a hug, his tall frame leaning down to wrap you in his arms, "but i'm here and i'm okay."

his protectiveness extends beyond the field too. 

the team would be out for drinks at o'keeffe's, you with a saltrimmed glass as you sat next to him. as you licked the edges, and drank your margarita with a satisfied grin, he would smile to himself, his smile dropping the minute a tall gruff man approached the two of you 

spencer's fingers twitch as the man puts his hand on the small of your back, taking notice in how your body tenses immediately and you laugh nervously. 

when he was in front of the team he wasn't your boyfriend spencer, he was your coworker spencer and as much as you planned on keeping it that way, spencer's patience was wearing thin each second the man's hand was on you. 

he'd cringe as you lean away from the man, mumbling some excuse like "i have a boyfriend," which made spencer's lips quirk upwards, just for a moment before he realized the man was still leaning into you, whispering, "he doesn't have to know,"

it's then that he steps in, getting up from his seat and stepping in between you and the man, flashing his badge at him with a quirked eyebrow and tight voice as he said, "i believe my colleague has made it clear she's not interested."

after a long case, one he knows hits you harder than the other's he is insisting you go to his apartment with him, his hands linking in yours the minute he's in the car and rubbing soothing circles into your palm

his voice is soft as he speaks over the radio, "everything okay, baby?"

"yeah," you would mumble, but he knows you too well and he knows that's not true. but he also knows you well enough to not bring it up again, choosing to distract you with your favorite songs on the drive or a warm bath when you get home, pressing sweet kisses all over your face as he bathes you

when you're sick, he shows up with:

homemade soup (his mother's recipe), herbal teas, and your favorite books which he reads to you, despite your protests for him to stay away.

instead he'd be telling you to open up as he fed you chicken soup while speaking to you gently, "did you know that chicken soup can actually help reduce inflammation? the chicken and vegetables in chicken soup actually inhibit the migration of neutrophils which can help you breathe better."

in public, his eyes always find you. especially at work he is glancing over at you from his desk, pen in his hand tapping the desk as he looks over at you for the thirteenth time that hour. 

"she's fine, kid. she's not going to magically disappear from her desk," derek teases, as he leans on spencer's desk, looking over at where your eyes finally met his and gave him a soft smile. 

"i know. i just like seeing her smile," spencer replies, voice soft as he smiles back at you. 

[pin-k-ink]

OMG AJABAJANAUABAJA I WANNA KNOW HOSHINA'S REACTION IF HE GOT U PREGNANT AND U GUYS ARE NOT READY FOR THE BABY YET!!! 🤭🤭🤭 (idk how u can add sum smut in it but pls do)

the sidelines // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ hoshina being extremely overprotective, mentions of marriage, unplanned pregnancy, hoshina is absolutely down bad, dry humping, grinding, making out, cunnilingus, cum-eating, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, dirty talk, daddy kink, manhandling

wc ⇢ 7.8k

a/n: did i do it right?? 😭

"I'm tellin' ya Captain, she called me a kumquat-headed skid mark!" Hoshina groaned, raking a hand through his already disheveled bob. "My own girl hittin' me with bizarre insults before I've even had my morning coffee."

Ashiro leveled him with a long-suffering look over the rim of her mug. "Is that so? And what prompted such...creative name-calling from your girlfriend this morning, pray tell?"

Hoshina opened his mouth to respond, but then his expression did an abrupt 180 as his mind seemed to drift elsewhere entirely. A slow, dopey grin spread across his face as his eyes went slightly unfocused in a way Ashiro recognized all too well.

"Actually, funny you should mention promptin'..." he began in a tone thick with suggestion. "Because just last night, [Y/N] was feelin' pretty prompt herself when I—"

"Nope!" Ashiro swiftly cut him off with a raised palm, having heard enough. "I'm going to stop you right there before you start oversharing details that will scar me for life again, Hoshina."

Hoshina blinked, the hazy reverie evaporating as he registered her irritation. He had the decency to look slightly abashed, the tips of his ears pinking.

"Err...right. My bad, Captain." Clearing his throat gruffly, he forcibly dragged his mind back on topic. "Anyway, like I was sayin' - for some reason [Y/N] was in a totally foul mood this morning. Snappin' at me, stormin' around, almost took my head off with a shoe when I asked if she was okay..."

Trailing off with a perplexed frown, Hoshina searched Ashiro's impassive features. "Ya don't think...I mean, she can't be, y'know..."

He made a vague gesture towards his midsection accompanied by an exaggerated widening of his eyes.

Ashiro's brows hiked upwards as she processed his insinuation. "You're wondering if she's expecting?"

She watched realization slowly bloom across Hoshina’s features, only for him to instantly dismiss it with an indignant shake of his head.

"What? No way, there's no chance of that!" he scoffed, a touch too emphatic to be completely convincing. "We're always super careful, if ya know what I mean."

Here he waggled his eyebrows in a ridiculous attempt at subtlety that made Ashiro want to down the rest of her coffee in one burning gulp.

"Trust me, Captain, she’s not pregnant. At least not yet..." Hoshina added with a wolfish grin. "But a guy can dream, am I right?"

Smothering the urge to drop her head into her hands, Ashiro simply gave a longsuffering sigh. "Then if not an incoming arrival, what does the esteemed Vice Captain believe is causing his girlfriend's...let's call it, mercurial morning temperament?"

Hoshina’s bravado dimmed slightly as he actually stopped to ponder the question, fingers drumming idly on the tabletop.

"Well, could be she's still pissed about me forgettin' to fill up her snack stash again," he mused, brow furrowed. "You know how [Y/N] gets when she runs low on munchies..."

Trailing off, a lightbulb seemed to blink on behind his eyes as the truth dawned on him.

"Oh damn, it's 'cause I turned the TV off durin' that romantic movie marathon last night!" Hoshina burst out with a groan, smacking his palm to his forehead dramatically. "She always gets bent out of shape when I ruin her 'stories' like that. Shoulda just stuck it out through the last five Mr. Darcy remakes instead of suggestin' we fu—"

"Not another word!" Ashiro hastily cut him off again, fighting off the burning creep of a blush. "I think I have enough of an idea what triggered your girlfriend's...mood without the graphic play-by-play, thank you."

Snatching up her emptied mug, she fixed Hoshina with a flat look over one shoulder. "My advice? Buy her some fresh snacks, rent a few cheesy romance movies, and do not try to distract or debate her until this blows over. Consider it an order from your commanding officer."

With that, she pivoted on her heel and strode off, leaving a mildly cowed Hoshina sipping his coffee in begrudging silence. Buying peace with treats and chick flicks it was then...at least until your mercurial spell passed for whatever incomprehensible reason.

Hoshiro wandered the halls of the Defense Force headquarters feeling vaguely unsettled after his chat with Ashiro over breakfast. Sure, he had joked and waved off her suggestion that your recent moodiness could be due to pregnancy. But a nagging little voice persisted in the back of his mind, whispering 'what if?'

Shaking his head firmly, he tried to dislodge the notion. No, there was absolutely no way you could be...in that condition without him realizing, right? He knew your body's cycles and patterns like the back of his hand after all this time together. If you were unexpectedly harboring a bun in the oven, Hoshina was confident he would have sensed it.

With a self-assured nod, he rounded the corner towards the usual sectors where he expected to find you catching up on training sims or combat prep. Except after poking his head into the third empty rec room, realization dawned that you must have already deployed for a mission while he was grabbing food.

"Dummy," Hoshina chided himself, spinning on his heel to trace his steps back towards the central operations hub. "Shoulda checked the boards first before wanderin' around aimlessly."

Sure enough, as soon as he entered the massive tech-walled nerve center, the main display showed a seemingly routine reconnaissance op already underway. There you were, rendered in a slightly grainy live feed from your combat suit's visual input - deftly scouting the rubbled outskirts of a kaiju-ravaged sector.

Despite himself, Hoshiro felt his lips quirking up in a fond smile as he watched your focused movements, the slight furrow in your brow as you signaled for your platoon to hold position. Even just the tiny visual was enough to settled him, the lingering worries from Ashiro's suggestion fading like bad static.

You looked alert, capable, radiating that intense air of quiet fortitude he had come to love and admire over the years. Ashiro had been way off base with her misguided theory - there was clearly nothing out of the ordinary with his girl as far as Hoshina could tell.

His attention drifted from the main visual feed to the peripheral unit showing the hard data and biometrics streaming in from each combat suit. It was there that Hoshina frowned, perplexed by the readout displayed next to your name. Unless he was misreading things, which seemed unlikely given his extensive field experience, the sensors appeared to be detecting...two separate life signatures?

A second heartbeat synced up alongside the expected readouts from your suit's internal monitoring array.

"Okonogi-chan, ya seein' this too?" he called out, tone laced with confusion as he angled towards the operations leader overseeing the various data streams. "These readings from [Y/N]'s suit can't be right..."

The girl frowned, fingers already flying across her haptic interface as she pored over the same readouts. There was a strange tension lingering around her brown eyes that immediately set off warning flares in the back of Hoshina’s mind.

"No, Vice Captain, I'm afraid the data isn't glitching or throwing false positives," she said at last, voice carefully measured in a way that did nothing to settle his growing disquiet. "Those two biorhythmic signatures are genuine."

She glanced back up, finding Hoshina's gaze laser-locked on her with sudden, undivided intensity boring straight through. For a long moment, the only sound was the filtered ambient noise of your voice calling out terse status updates over the open channel.

Then Okonogi cleared her throat slightly, realizing she would have to be the one to voice the breathtaking implication they were both rapidly arriving at despite his earlier dismissals.

"It seems Platoon Leader [Y/N] is...well, she's currently tracking with metabolic readings consistent with...with an active pregnancy."

Hoshina could only gape at Okonogi, her words rebounding inside his skull in a maddening loop as the undertones gradually sank in. An active pregnancy...metabolic readings...biorhythmic signatures...

For a suspended moment, every shred of the Vice Captain's renowned unflappability and combat poise deserted him entirely. He simply stared, dumbstruck, as the revelation washed over his consciousness in a cascading torrent.

His [Y/N] was…

Pregnant. With child. His child. Harboring new life within that deceptively sturdy frame he had mapped with fevered lips and calloused palms more times than he could count over their years together.

The very idea should have sparked euphoria, giddy elation, any number of transcendent emotional responses from the man who secretly harbored dreams about one day starting a family with you. And yet, as the implications filtered through Hoshiro's whirlwind thoughts, all he could latch onto was a single, fervent litany pounding through his psyche:

Danger.

You were in danger, even if the current mission objective read as relatively low-stakes recon. Hell, you, his beautiful, strong-willed warrior was unknowingly putting yourself in harm's way just by waking up and drawing breath each morning in that condition. Every cell in Hoshina’s body combusted with the compulsive drive to neutralize that threat immediately.

The realization of your undetected pregnancy catalyzed an instantaneous shift within Hoshina’s demeanor, as if someone had thrown an switch converting him to maximum combat-readiness in a nanosecond. Gone was the usual sly, irreverent banter - his features settled into an immutable mask of grim determination.

"Okonogi-chan, abort [Y/N]'s mission immediately and recall her back to base," he barked out in a tone broking zero disagreement. "Platoon Leader [L/N] is officially relieved of all active duty obligations until further notice."

The young operations leader started at his clipped order, eyes widening slightly before darting back towards the readouts in evident uncertainty. "Vice-Captain, this is merely a recon run through the city’s outskirts," she began carefully. "All environmental scans have confirmed no kaijus remaining in that area. [Y/N]'s platoon is at virtually zero risk carrying out their objective."

Hoshina’s jaw tightened fractionally, terse patience already fraying in the wake of her mild pushback. "Your data interpretation is duly noted, Okonogi-chan," he ground out through gritted teeth. "But I ain’t takin' any chances, no matter how small, where [Y/N]'s wellbein' is concerned right now. Not with..."

He trailed off, subtly inclining his head towards the secondary monitor displaying those two synced biorhythmic signatures. Okonogi's expression flickered with understanding, but she still looked torn about defying protocols over something so seemingly innocuous.

"Okonogi," Hoshiro growled out her name in low warning as the tense beat stretched. He took a single step forwards, unconsciously widening his stance in an unmistakable tell of escalating aggression. "I said abort the operation and recall [Y/N]. That's a direct order I expect ya to carry out immediately, do I make myself clear?"

The sudden spike in intensity made the younger woman flinch back reflexively, mahogany eyes going wide. For several charged seconds, she could only stare back at Hoshina’s stonefaced scowl, tension radiating off him in palpable waves. Then, seeming to wilt beneath the weight of his authority, Okonogi gave a tight nod of acquiescence.

Swallowing hard, she began executing a series of inputs on the holographic interface, opening a priority channel to feed directly into your active earpiece. Hoshina followed her motions peripherally, arms crossed over his chest and jaw still locked in a rictus line.

"Platoon Leader [L/N], this is Okonogi from the Operation Room," Okonogi spoke steadily into the comm pickups, keeping her tone officially neutral. "Your reconnaissance mission has been cancelled due to unspecified priority reassignment. Please confirm."

For a long stretch, there was only silence broken by faint audible static. Hoshina felt his heartrate kick up another notch as the delay stretched on, every instinct screaming at him to intervene and force your compliance through sheer verbal dominance if need be. Then your voice crackled back over the speakers, clear surprise and defiance laced through each clipped syllable.

"Say again? I must have had some interference, because I could have sworn you just recalled my team from a routine operation without explanation."

Okonogi darted a nervous glance towards Hoshiro, but received only a hard, expectant look in return. She wet her lips before repeating, "Affirmative, Platoon Leader. All Third Division assets currently in Sector Delta are to immediately abort their mission profile and return to—"

"The hell?!!" Your sharp retort crackled with enough force to make the operator flinch. "We're barely three klicks from the primary recon area and holding steady positions. I demand justification for this inexplicable overruling."

Your obstinance was to be expected, of course - Hoshina felt his lip twitch fondly even despite the urgency of the situation. But this was hardly the time to coddle your predictable prickliness. Not when such vast, unknowable dangers now surrounded your unwitting circumstances. Stepping up to the console, he brusquely took over the broadcast with a hand wave dismissing Okonogi.

"Sounds like ya didn't get the full meanin' the first time, Platoon Leader," he growled out in a tone dripping with iron authority. "So allow me to make this order explicitly clear - you and yer team are to disengage from yer current objective and report back to Tachikawa Base for immediate stand-down and reassignment under my direct supervision."

He paused a beat to allow the weight of his words to settle before continuing in an octave that brokered zero argument.

"Non-compliance will result in official charges of willful insubordination towards yer Vice Captain with all resulting disciplinary actions and demerits. Is that understood?"

There was another protracted silence over the open channel. Hoshina could vividly envision you practically sputtering with indignant rage at the brush-off, practically able to see the way your eyes would narrow to thin slits of mutiny while your jawline grew taut and unyielding. But behind it all lurked a deeper current of defiance fueled by something beyond mere wounded pride - the foundational belief in your own fortitude and unwavering capability. The self-same strengths he had always loved, even as they set you frustratingly at odds when he tried to implement protective measures.

When your response finally filtered through, it was clipped and frosty with clearly audible displeasure. "Orders received and understood, Vice Captain. We're heading back now."

But Hoshina already knew that wouldn't be the end of this particular confrontation...

The armored transport rumbled into the hangar bay, and Hoshina was right there waiting - arms folded and combat boots planted wide in an unmistakable stance of stern authority. The moment you stepped out, he could see the spark of defiance blazing in your eyes, lips already parted to let him have it.

Before you could unleash your tirade, Hoshina closed the gap in two long strides. He grabbed you by the shoulders and crushed his mouth against yours in a forceful, searing kiss that instantly doused the righteous flames licking at your tongue.

You went rigid initially, taken by surprise at his bold move to shut you up. But within moments, Hoshina felt the fight bleed out of your lithe frame as you melted against his solid bulk with a muffled whimper. Just as he knew you would.

Hoshina drank down the needy little noises spilling from your lips greedily, delving his tongue past the plush seam to explore the warm cavern of your mouth with slow, thorough sweeps. His large hands roamed down to palm the sloping curves of your waist and hips, pulling your lower body flush against the insistent bulge rapidly straining at the front of his fatigues.

Only once he had mapped every lush inch and left you a trembling, breathless mess did Hoshina finally tear his mouth away with a final nip at your swollen lower lip. He didn't even try to hide the smug satisfaction curling his lips as he took in your dazed, lust-blown expression.

"Save the bitching for later, baby girl," he rumbled in that low, gruff timbre that never failed to make your thighs clench. "We've got way more important things to discuss first..."

Without waiting for your inevitable objection, Hoshina snagged your wrist in one calloused hand and tugged you along behind him, leading you down the nearest unoccupied corridor. As soon as you rounded the corner into the vacant passage, he spun and pinned you against the wall with his solid weight, caging you in with tree-trunk forearms braced on either side of your head.

"Let's start with ya tellin' me why the fuck my girl thought it was okay to suit up for combat while keeping a pretty big secret from me," Hoshina ground out, eyes blazing with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

You blinked up at him, utterly bewildered by the sudden accusation and possessive fervor radiating off him in palpable waves.

"Wh-what secret?" you managed after a moment, mind racing to figure out what had him so riled up. "Soshiro, I have no idea what you're talking abou—"

He cut you off with a low, rumbling growl that seemed to vibrate straight through your bones. Abruptly, his entire demeanor shifted from simmering anger into tightly leashed intensity. Hoshina leaned back just enough to allow his piercing stare to rake over your body in a heavy, lingering caress.

You squirmed self-consciously under the smoldering weight of his scrutiny until his gaze finally settled on your midsection with undisguised focus. One of his large, calloused hands drifted down to splay over the soft plane of your abdomen, fingers flexing almost...possessively against the material of your suit.

"You're pregnant, [Y/N]," he stated in a low rasp choked with barely restrained emotion. "Carrying my brat whether ya realized it or not."

The blunt words hung in the hushed air for a suspended beat, seeming to leech all oxygen from the cramped corridor. You could only gape up at him, speechless and reeling as the enormity of his revelation ricocheted through your consciousness.

Pregnant? You were pregnant? With...with Hoshina’s child?

A thousand different thoughts and responses clamored for attention in your mind as the reality slowly sank its razor-tipped hooks past the layers of shock. But before you could sort through the jumbled tangle of emotions, Hoshina pressed on in that same low, gravelly murmur.

"The readings from yer latest mission tripped the recognition protocols," he explained, hand still molding to the subtle swell of your abdomen with soul-searing tenderness. "Showed two distinct heartbeats synchronized together - yours..." He paused, swallowing hard as his throat worked convulsively. "And our baby's."

On the last two words, Hoshina’s voice cracked audibly with a hairline fracture of vulnerability he rarely allowed to breach his tough exterior. You saw his jaw ticking as he visibly struggled to regain his composure, thick lashes lowering to veil the maelstrom swirling in those indigo depths.

For several thumping heartbeats, the only sound was the hollow pounding of blood roaring in your ears as your mind attempted to catch up. Then you felt Hoshina shift fractionally, the first stirrings of tension re-entering the iron-carved lines of his shoulders and neck.

"The real question is..." he rumbled out after clearing his throat gruffly. "Did ya already know about this, and just neglected to tell me? Or are ya as oblivious as I was until a few goddamn minutes ago?"

The spark of anger reigniting in the graveled rasp made you flinch instinctively. You quickly shook your head in a frantic negative, still too overwhelmed to vocalize any response beyond the raw, visceral turmoil of emotions roiling in your gut.

For a fleeting moment, Hoshina’s expression wavered in what you could've sworn was disappointment before the fierce scowl slammed back into place. That split-second flicker was all the confirmation you needed to understand his meaning.

Just like that, your voice found itself again on a trembling exhalation edged with the first fissures of hurt and confusion cracking through the layered shock.

"You thought...you thought I would deliberately keep something like this from you?" you rasped out in a bare whisper. "That I would risk not just my own safety, but our...our child's life by..."

You broke off, throat constricting as a swell of tears blurred your vision unexpectedly. Swiping at them angrily, you leveled Hoshina with a wounded glare as a protective arm curled around your midsection.

"How could you even consider that I would—"

Before you could finish that accusatory question, Hoshina surged forward and silenced you with another fierce, claiming kiss. This time there was no initial surprise or hesitation on your part - you melted against him instantly with a low keen muffled between your joined mouths.

Hoshina wasted no time deepening the liplock, his questing tongue sweeping past your pliant defenses to map every velvet inch with ardent dedication. One hand cradled the back of your skull, thick fingers threading through your hair as he angled your faces for even deeper penetration. The other roamed down your side to palm your hip and grind your lower bodies flush together, ensuring you felt every rigid inch of his erection.

You arched helplessly against him with a whimpering exhalation, suddenly unbearably aware of Hoshina’s sheer size and virile strength engulfing you so completely. Tiny sparks of pleasure lanced straight to your core each time his hips rolled in a possessive grind, rekindling the deepest cravings he always stoked so easily within you.

Just as your lungs began burning with the need for air, Hoshina finally relented enough to tear his mouth from yours with a harsh inhalation. You panted harshly against each other's slick, swollen lips, gazes locked in a heated battle of wills as the world slowly reoriented around you.

"Ya know why I considered it, baby girl," he growled out at last, voice rendered even more gravel-rough from your passionate exchange. Hoshina shifted his stance infinitesimally, using his superior bulk to crowd you more thoroughly against the bulkhead. "Because ya have a nasty habit of puttin' everyone else's safety before yer own without hesitation. And I'll be damned if I stand by and let that selfless bullshit continue now that you've got precious cargo on board."

As if to punctuate his point, Hoshina dragged his palm from the flare of your hip down to cup your abdomen again in a shockingly tender caress completely at odds with his gruff demeanor. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he stroked your skin reverently, eyelashes fluttering.

"This changes everything, [Y/N]," he murmured in a tone caught between wonder and quiet ferocity. "Our priorities, the risks we can’t allow, the future we need to start considering beyond just the next mission... Yer gonna be a mother to my child, ready or not. And I'll rip this entire base apart before I let ya jeopardize that role over some misguided sense of duty."

There was an edge of steel underscoring every word, daring you to defy the irrefutable truth he laid out. You could feel tension re-accumulating between your joined frames once more as the severity of the situation reasserted itself in the wake of Hoshiro's brief emotional lapse.

Drawing yourself up as much as his looming stance would allow, you opened your mouth to offer a retort - only to be silenced again as Hoshina’s palm flattened against the wall beside your head with a muted thump of emphasis.

"Don't even try arguin'," he cut you off with a low, impatient growl as your lips pursed mutinously. "I know you, [Y/N]. I know that stubborn defiance yer gearin' up to unleash because ya can't stand being sidelined or coddled for any reason. Well this time there's no goddamn debate - yer grounded."

You sucked in an outraged breath, fully prepared to vehemently protest such a unilateral decision curtailing your duties. But before you could unleash the torrent of objections burning in your larynx, Hoshina leaned in until his forehead was nearly touching yours and his next words emerged in a resonant, thrumming murmur.

"I don't give a fuck how indignant ya are, baby. You can rage and scream at me all ya want once we get back to my quarters. But while my child resides beneath yer heart..." Here he paused to splay his palm over the slight swell of your abdomen again with clear reverence. "Ya belong hidden away from any harm, understood? This isn't open for discussion."

The charged silence hung between you like a taut highwire after Hoshina’s implacable declaration. You could feel the sparks of defiance sizzling beneath your skin, that infamous stubborn streak demanding you not acquiesce so easily to being sidelined. And yet...when you parted your lips to unleash your objections, all that emerged was a soft, begrudging huff.

Some deep-rooted part of you instinctively understood the simple truth driving Hoshina’s hardline stance. He wasn't trying to control you out of some misplaced alpha male bluster. In that moment, with his palm reverently cupped over the slight swell harboring your shared offspring, Hoshina embodied the pure essence of an ancient protector archetype. His sole priority was safeguarding the new life taking root, no matter how it constrained either of your usual roles.

And truly, what objection could you muster against that? What retort could possibly overcome the blazing intensity of love and ferocious devotion burning in his eyes as they bored into yours?

So instead of spitting denials, you held Hoshina’s smoldering stare and gave a terse nod of reluctant acceptance. You wouldn't fight him on this, not now...not when the two of you were now defending much more than just your own lives.

The minuscule surrender had an instantaneous effect on Hoshina’s granite countenance. You saw the bands of tension framing his eyes and jaw loosen infinitesimally as the rigid line of his shoulders lost some of its coiled potential energy. Silently confirming he had emerged victorious in this pivotal round, if only for the moment.

Before you could ponder the implications of where this new dynamic shift might lead your relationship, Hoshina was ducking his head to capture your lips again. But where the previous kisses were fueled by scorching desire and unrelenting dominance, this one was almost...soft. Tender, even, as he took his time mapping the seam of your mouth with tender, coaxing sweeps of his tongue.

You melted against him with a shuddering exhalation, palms flattening against the solid contours of his chest as you instinctively pressed closer. Hoshina angled his head to deepen the intoxicating exchange, one hand cupping the back of your skull to hold you in place as he thoroughly ravaged your senses.

Just as you were teetering into a hazy, lust-drunk delirium, Hoshina abruptly broke away with a sharp inhalation. You blinked up at him, bemused by his sudden retreat, only to suck in a shaky gasp at the blazing heat now smoldering in those indigo depths.

Hoshina’s pupils were blown wide with naked hunger, his lips already reddened and slick from your passionate communion. You watched, utterly transfixed, as his tongue swept out to capture the lingering taste of you glossing his lower lip. The unconscious gesture punched straight through the core of your increasingly liqefied determination with devastating impact.

Then his gaze dropped to rake over your body in a molten caress, sweeping down from your flushed cheeks to linger on the swells of your breasts straining against your combat suit. Lower still, mapping the flare of your hips and the taut vee accentuated between your thighs from his muscular bulk pressing you into the unforgiving bulkhead.

"Shit, baby girl..." Hoshina ground out in a gravel-rough timbre laced with undisguised sin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were tryna rile me up over here. Get me all worked up so I'd forget the little reminder waitin' at home for us..."

He punctuated the words by rocking his hips against you in a wicked grind, allowing you to feel every hardened inch of his cock outlined against your abdomen. A breathy whine slipped unbidden from your parted lips, nerves alight and sparking wildly at the delicious friction.

Shamelessly, Hoshina rutted against you again with a low, appreciative rumble stoked straight from the depths of his chest. His head dipped to nuzzle against the sloped column of your throat, lips skating across your thundering pulse point in a scorching brush of contact.

"That's it, pretty girl..." he growled against your oversensitized skin. "Let Daddy see how much his touch still affects ya, even with my spawn takin' root inside..."

The words were pure molten sin caressed over your psyche in Hoshina’s distinctive timbre. You felt your core liquidize in a heady rush, thighs reflexively parting to accommodate the insistent bulk pinning you against the unyielding steel at your back. Somewhere beneath the haze of awakening lust, you were dimly aware of the cloying reminder you shouldn't be indulging these rampant cravings while being in such a…delicate condition.

Yet every rational synapse in your consciousness whited out as Hoshina sealed his lips over the thundering pulse at the hollow of your throat. The glide of his tongue bathing your scorching skin in unhurried, sumptuous strokes obliterated any last vestiges of higher thought still clinging on.

"That's my good girl..." he purred against your straining tendons in graveled approval. "Soon as we get behind closed doors, Daddy's going to remind ya exactly who ya belong to while worshippin' every inch of this pretty little body..."

Hoshina didn't give you a chance to formulate any response before he was already moving. With a low, feral growl reverberating from his depths, he hitched you up against his powerful frame, calloused hands cupping beneath your thighs to anchor you in place.

You gasped out a breathy sound of surprise that morphed into a throaty whimper as he ground his clothed cock against your core with wicked intent. Hoshina rumbled an approving noise against the thundering pulse at your throat, lips blazing a scorching path along the vulnerable column bared to his questing mouth.

"That's it, pretty girl...let me hear how much ya need this," he rasped out between openmouthed kisses and teasing nips. "Need me to take ya home and make it official before this brat gets any bigger."

You shuddered hard at the blatant suggestion laced into his rough timbre, feeling a fresh gush of slick heat flood your core at the thought of being well and truly claimed by this wrecking ball of a man. There would be no more delaying or skirting around the inevitable anymore - not with ironclad proof of your union now taking root.

Ankles locking behind the sinewy V of Hoshina’s back, you arched shamelessly against the rigid bulge grinding against your clothed pussy. Chasing that delicious friction, that smoldering promise of being staked and bound to him permanently in the most primal way imaginable.

"Please..." you heard yourself whining out, beyond caring how desperate and needy you sounded. "Soshiro, I need...need you to—"

"Hush now, mama," he cut you off with a rasping growl, already stalking down the vacant corridor with you cradled snugly in his embrace. "Save it for when I've got ya laid out and beggin' properly."

The words punched straight through you with merciless impact, robbing you of breath. You could only cling to Hoshina with trembling limbs, knuckles whitening from your death grip on his shoulders as the world seemed to blur around you. All that existed was the scorching heat of his body surrounding yours, the rasp of his graveled tone thrumming through your very marrow, and the dizzying spiral of want hazed in your very bones.

Hoshina didn't bother with niceties or propriety as he carried you through the installation's winding passageways. He moved with liquid speed and purpose, not breaking stride or sparing a single glance to anyone you passed. At some point, you were vaguely aware of one young officer actually leaping out of his path with wide, panicked eyes - clearly recognizing the danger of crossing the Vice Captain in this state.

Nobody else dared hinder Hoshina’s determined strides as he bore you rapidly through the maze of corridors and security checkpoints towards the restricted command quarters. You felt your pulse kick up as the armored bulkhead to his private room finally loomed into view.

Then you were through the portal and ensconced in Hoshina’s familiar sanctum, alone at last. The instant the door cycled shut behind you, cutting off the outside world entirely, his mouth crashed back over yours in a searing, demanding kiss.

This time, there was no preamble or softness - only raw, unrestrained need fueled by emotion too volatile to contain any longer. Hoshina devoured you with lashing sweeps of his tongue and teasing nips from blunted teeth, robbing you of breath entirely with his merciless onslaught.

You hardly even registered the scorching path he carried you along, or when your back met the broad expanse of his bed. All that existed was the searing brand of Hoshina’s calloused palms skating over every available inch of bare skin as he started peeling away layers with frantic urgency.

Only once he had you stripped to just your underwear did he finally tear his lips from yours, leaving you gasping and squirming against the rumpled sheets. Hoshina reared up onto his knees, straddling your thighs as he drank in the sight of you splayed out before him - hair tousled, cheeks flushed, lips already rubied from his voracious attention.

More importantly, his gaze raked lower to linger on the subtle swell of your abdomen, pupils blowing even wider. His large hand drift down to map the gentle curve with soul-searing reverence.

"Perfect...fuckin' perfect," Hoshina ground out in a sandpaper rasp choked with too many conflicting emotions to parse. "And soon as this next round is over, I'm locking ya down for good as my wife. No more puttin' it off or dancin' around what ya are to me."

With that growled vow, he dipped his head to seal his mouth over your inner ankle, already working his way up your calf with a meandering path of scorching, openmouthed kisses and teasing sweeps of his tongue.

"Mine..." he purred against the quivering skin of your inner thigh between each sinuous lap of that wicked appendage. "My woman...my wife... gonna lock ya away and keep ya naked and dripping for me at all hours,"

You arched off the mattress with a keening cry as Hoshina reached the crease where thigh met groin, his hot breath ghosting across the thin lace separating him from his destination. Then he was latching his lips onto your swollen clit, suckling through the barrier with a low groan of satisfaction.

"Mmm, yeah, just like this..." Hoshina hummed his approval against your soaked core, drawing another helpless moan from your lips. "Keep ya ready and waiting on Daddy's cock so I can breed this tight little cunt whenever I want. That sound good, baby girl?"

A ragged whine was the only coherent response you could muster as Hoshina continued teasing you with languid laps of his tongue. You were already reduced to a writhing, trembling mess, the last shreds of your self-control fraying by the moment under his masterful attentions.

When he finally dragged your panties down your legs with a few quick tugs, you were already panting harshly and clutching the sheets in a white-knuckled death grip. But before you could beg him to hurry, to stop torturing you with his wicked ministrations, Hoshina was diving back between your thighs and sealing his lips around your clit again.

This time there was no lace barrier separating you - only the slick heat of his tongue lashing across your pulsing bundle of nerves and two thick fingers pumping into your dripping core.

"S-shiro, I-I'm..."

You couldn't even finish the plea, your words dissolving into a shattered moan as a fresh flood of wetness coated Hoshina's knuckles. He growled against your pussy in clear approval, the reverberations thrumming through your nerve endings.

"That's it, pretty girl, cream all over Daddy's fingers..."

He punctuated the order with a particularly sharp curl and twist of his digits, raking over that spongy patch of flesh just beyond the second knuckle. You saw stars and bucked against his face, riding the wave of ecstasy cresting through your senses.

Hoshina continued his assault, wringing you dry until you collapsed back onto the sheets, panting and shaking. Even then, he didn't relinquish his hold, still lazily sucking and lapping at your hypersensitive clit until you were twitching with overstimulation.

When he finally tore himself away from his favorite pastime, your mind was still so hazed with lust and pleasure you hardly noticed him stripping his fatigues. You didn't fully register the moment he crawled over you, his massive bulk caging you in with familiar warmth. Not until he was nudging your legs apart to nestle the broad crown of his cock against your drooling entrance.

Then his mouth crashed over yours, swallowing the needy keen as he surged forward in one forceful thrust. You felt the breath punch from your lungs as Hoshina immediately set a bruising pace, his hips pistoning back and forth with unrestrained fervor.

"Ah, f-fuck..." Hoshina hissed between gritted teeth as his entire body bowed above you, muscles straining and tendons popping out against his skin. ""Knew...knew you'd look so fuckin' gorgeous like this, breeding ya up nice an' deep..."

His hips snapped forward with each word, burying his cock to the hilt in your dripping channel. The filthy promises he was rasping against your ear only made the sensations more acute, spiraling your need higher.

"Mine...fuck, yer all mine now, sweet girl. My beautiful baby mama..."

Hoshina growled against the column of your throat as his hips continued pounding away between your thighs, every thrust driving him impossibly deeper. Your nails raked across his shoulders, his nape, his biceps - everywhere you could reach, anchoring yourself against the onslaught of pleasure threatening to consume you whole.

You were barely aware of the sounds pouring from your throat, the pleading, breathless moans and keens spilling from your parted lips. Then Hoshina angled his thrusts to grind against that spongy spot within, and your back arched off the mattress with a piercing wail of delight.

"Go 'head an' moan f'me, mama. Let the whole base hear who owns this pretty cunt..."

He punctuated the words with an especially forceful thrust, slamming his hips against yours and grinding his pubic bone against your swollen clit. Your thighs locked around his waist instinctively, clinging to him with every last scrap of strength in your trembling frame.

"Fuck, baby, don't get greedy now. Daddy's close, an' he needs to see ya cream all over his cock first. You can do that f'me, can't you?" He punctuated the request by rolling his hips in a filthy grind, raking the flared head over your g-spot with deliberate precision. "Don't hold back, gotta let it all out when I'm fuckin' ya deep. Need to hear my gorgeous mama squeal for Daddy's cum..."

His hands shifted to cradle the curve of your ass, angling your hips upward and tilting your pelvis just enough for him to grind even deeper. Your eyes rolled back and your jaw dropped, a breathy exhalation catching on a keening moan as he continued pummeling your pussy into the mattress.

"Shiro, please, I-I can't, I need..."

Your words trailed off into a whimpering keen as his thrusts became impossibly faster, rougher. Hoshina's entire frame was taut as a bowstring above you, every muscle flexing and straining with the effort of his punishing pace.

"So slick and swollen for me...fuck, yer pussy was made to grip Daddy's fat cock like this..." he snarled against your lips, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Now cum, baby, I need ya to milk me fuckin' dry..."

On cue, his hand slid between your writhing bodies, fingers circling and teasing your throbbing clit. It was the final shove over the edge.

You screamed his name, vision whiting out as a surge of rapture crashed over you. Waves of sensation wracked your entire body, leaving you shaking and shuddering as your walls clenched down around his pounding cock.

"Fuck, yes..." Hoshina groaned hoarsely as you came apart beneath him, his own rhythm becoming choppy and erratic. "Say my name, mama. Let me hear ya scream for yer husband's cum."

It was too much, the combination of his cock pistoning away between your thighs and his rough, possessive rasp filling your senses. You cried out incoherently as your release spiraled even higher, feeling the delicious burn of his girth stretching you to your limit.

"Soshiro! Yes, please, Daddy, cum in me...please!"

The words were little more than a keening sob, but they had the desired effect. With a feral snarl, Hoshina buried himself to the hilt and went rigid, his entire body bowing beneath the weight of his release. You felt him pulsing within your depths, coating your quivering walls with molten heat.

"Fuuuuck, baby girl...yeah, take it, take Daddy's cum...that's my good little wife, milkin' my cock dry with her sweet cunt." His hips were still rocking back and forth, though much more shallowly now. You moaned and squirmed beneath him, hypersensitive from the force of your shared orgasm.

Finally, he seemed to run dry, and collapsed forward onto his forearms, panting harshly against the sweat-slicked column of your throat. For a few moments, the only sound was the ragged rasp of your joined breaths.

Then Hoshina shifted his weight, hissing softly as he slowly withdrew from your still-fluttering depths. You shivered at the sensation, the sudden feeling of emptiness left behind by his absence.

He settled back on his haunches and nudged your thighs further apart, gaze lingering with palpable heat on the pearly mixture oozing from your entrance. With a low rumble of approval, Hoshina's thick fingers delved into the mess, pushing the cum-slickened digits back into your core.

You whimpered and tried to squirm away, oversensitive and sore from his thorough use. But he merely shot you a stern look and held you firmly in place, continuing to toy with your dripping entrance.

"Hold still," he ordered gruffly. "Need to get my mouth on that pretty pussy, baby. Let Daddy clean up his pregnant wife..."

Before you could offer any objection or protest, he was already ducking down to lap the mixture of both your fluids from your swollen folds. You moaned and arched against the bed, fingers twisting in his sweat-dampened locks.

Hoshina hummed his approval as his tongue dipped and swirled, collecting every drop from your quivering flesh. Each time his mouth latched onto your clit, you couldn't suppress a needy keen, still too sensitive from the force of your shared release.

When he finally reared back onto his knees again, the smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips was thoroughly satisfied. Hoshina swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, still eyeing the apex of your thighs as if contemplating diving right back in.

"There we go, baby girl. Nice and clean," he rumbled out after a beat. "But just 'cause I took care of the mess doesn't mean yer done getting fucked."

With that, Hoshina was already scooping you into his arms and shifting your positions so he was the one sprawled against the mattress, with you straddling his hips. You blinked down at him in wide-eyed shock, still too dazed and overwhelmed to formulate any words.

Not that you got the chance. Within seconds, he had already lifted you effortlessly and lowered you back onto his throbbing cock. You moaned, spine arching as he stretched you open again, feeling the thick length pulse within your depths.

Hoshina didn't wait for you to adjust before he was already guiding you into a smooth, rolling rhythm. His hands were clamped on your hips, lifting and dropping you on his cock in time with his own upward thrusts.

"Go ahead, wifey, ride Daddy's cock just like that..." he purred, pupils blown wide as he watched you bounce atop him with an expression caught somewhere between rapture and ferocity. "Gonna keep this pussy nice and wet and full, until my seed's drippin' down yer thighs again."

You didn't even try fighting the tide of ecstasy washing over you, letting Hoshina steer the tempo of your lovemaking. His hips bucked up off the bed to meet your downward plunge, burying himself as deep as possible in your quivering depths.

"So fuckin' gorgeous," he grunted, palms gliding up your sides to palm your breasts. "Look at these pretty tits, all swollen an' ready for when our brat arrives. Can't wait to see 'em all nice and full, baby..."

You keened in response, not trusting yourself to speak while lost in the sensations of him filling you over and over. Your hands splayed across his rippling abdomen, using the solid muscles for leverage as you rode him.

"That's it, mama, bounce on Daddy's fat cock like you were born for it. Such a perfect little cock-sleeve..." Hoshina punctuated the words with a sharp, upward thrust, his hips rising off the mattress. You gasped and rocked back against him, grinding down with needy intent.

"Fuck, yeah, just like that, sweet girl," he growled approvingly. "Take what ya need, go 'head an' use me to get yerself off."

Your eyelashes fluttered and a fresh surge of wetness flooded your core, leaving you gasping and trembling as his words hit you straight in the gut. He gave a rumbling laugh, the sound pure sex laced through his graveled voice.

"Shit, that does it for ya, baby? My greedy little mama, always so needy for her husband's cock..."

Hoshina surged upright suddenly, his mouth crashing over yours in a ravenous kiss. You melted into the embrace with a whimper, fingers tangling in his sweat-dampened locks. When his tongue thrust past your lips, you could taste the heady mixture of your combined flavors, and something within you sparked to life.

With a breathless groan, you ground down harder against him, chasing that elusive friction that would push you over the edge. Hoshina responded by wrapping his arm around your waist, crushing you against his chest as he helped guide the motion of your hips.

The two of you continued rocking and grinding, tongues tangling and breaths mingling. The heady combination was intoxicating, robbing you of all higher thought until nothing remained but the pleasure and need spiraling through your veins.

Hoshina was the first to succumb, his rhythm growing increasingly choppy and desperate. Finally, he broke away from your lips with a strangled curse and a shudder. Then he was hilting himself in your depths, cock pulsing and spilling deep within.

You followed suit instantly, keening out his name as your release slammed into you, a white-hot surge of ecstasy. Your head tipped back and your hips bucked against his, riding the crest of pleasure until you were spent and sagging bonelessly in his embrace.

Hoshina cradled you close, peppering kisses across the sweat-slicked column of your throat, his breath still coming in harsh pants. Neither of you moved for a long time, simply reveling in the afterglow and each other's presence.

At some point, Hoshina carefully shifted you to his side, rolling onto his back and taking you with him. You curled into his broad chest, sighing contentedly as he nuzzled against the crown of your head.

"Rest now, sweet girl," he murmured against your hair. "Daddy's got ya. We've got plenty of time before I'm ready to take ya again."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi!

If you’re still doing these asks, do you mind maybe adding a part 5 to Passion for Fashion?

I would love to see how Danny and Red Robin’s impromptu date goes and Constantine’s reaction to all this.

And poor Killer Croc is so confused and uncomfortable around the twins, oh and not to forget Dan’s inner turmoil over losing a love interest because his body no longer matches his mental and spiritual age😂

I’d also love to see the reactions of the rest of the Batfam to Tim going on a date and their reaction to Dan’s flirting with Croc.

Your request came in after I had already written most of Part 5, but I hope I can include most of what you asked for in it and make it up with another Part of the Au for you.

Danny strutted down the runway, fighting to keep his gaze straight ahead as various flashes from cameras went off.

He mentally went through his checklist of proper catwalk tips that he watched the other day—or, more accurately, Dan forced him to watch from some free video website—ensuring his hands were relaxed, long strides were made, and his shoulders were firm but not stiff.

This was the contest's second round, with Tim Drake proposing the "Gotham Aesthetic" as the theme and challenge. Apparently, the teenage CEO spent most of his childhood taking photos of the city and wanted others to appreciate the architecture of the aged town.

There was no kidnapping attempt this time, and the contest was back on schedule. However, there was a delay because some of the models had dropped out after they were nearly sold (Dan called them cowards, but Danny personally thought they were wise to do so). Hence, fashion designers had to scramble for someone new or forfeit their position in the contest, allowing some eliminated to take their place.

It took nearly four weeks to confirm that the same designers were staying but would need to remake or adjust their outfits. Thankfully, Wayne Amature Fashion Show was more than willing to offer them time.

Dan had already made Danny's outfit but figured he would remake it anyway. Once completed, new designs were crafted, adjusted, and flung into an idea box. He created so many it was as if Dan were a man possessed (Pun intended).

Danny needed to figure out how much fabric he was going through, but sometimes, he had to remind the other to sleep, eat, and shower. It seemed the other kept forgetting he was human now and needed to do these things for his health and Danny's poor nose.

Dan also seemed obsessed with exploring new parts of Gotham just to take pictures of buildings to get "inspiration." Danny went with him as he had nothing better to do, and the pair made an unlikely duo.

Both got stares in the streets—Danny for strutting around Gotham wearing some of Dan's regretted challenge outfits in an effort to learn to catwalk in them and Dan for dressing as close to the homeless as he could. For all that Dan could make amazing pieces of fashion, the man only filled his own closet with mismatched joggers and pajamas.

Danny had to force him back to change at one point since Dan had intended to walk around in a bathrobe- with shorts and stained short sleeves underneath it. He drew the line on bathrobes.

It was so embarrassing to be gawked at all the time that Danny could not help but wish Dan would try just a little. This was somewhat worse than when he was alone because at least then he knew it was just how stupid and awkward he looked in the outfits.

Now, he just felt subconscious about trying too hard compared to Dan.

"Relax, kid," The other scoffed, snapping a picture of the Brown Bridge. "By the time you're my age, you honestly stop caring about what other people think, so long as you like how you look."

"Can't you at least comb your hair?"

"I forgot how to do that."

Danny snaps his head in his direction, blinking owlishly "What?"

Dan shrugs. "My hair was fire for a literal decade, brat. How was I supposed to comb it?"

"Oh," Danny supposes, that makes sense. After all, Dan was more ghost than human at that point, driven mad by his grief and a colossal monster. He sort of forgot that. "Do you want me to show you how?"

"Ew. No. Too much work. Humans are so high maintenance." Dan rolled his eyes and shifted his tone into a mocking one. Comb your hair, change your clothes, take a bath."

"You smell like shit, Dan."

"You look like shit!"

"We have the same face!"

"It's better on me!"

Their public arguments also attract lots of stares. Danny would feel embarrassed by them if he wasn't so busy bickering with Dan as they moved about.

Ultimately, Dan had made his outfits formal steampunk during the break. Danny wished he had stayed with the Dark Academia idea because he felt he was walking around in a costume instead of clothes.

Dan told him that it felt too basic to go with Dark Academia since, now that he saw more of Gotham, he thought it better represent the city as a whole instead of the elites of Gotham. Danny debated with him until he agreed to make two of the four outfits- meant to represent all four seasons of Gotham's beauty or something stupid like that- to be dark academia.

Danny nears the end of the runway, stopping right before the judges to strike his pose. His eyes never leave the center decorative flower in the far back, but he makes sure to slowly turn his head as if he is gazing at the crowd.

There are gasps as he pulls off his tophat in a twirl to hide the way he presses the button on his hip. At once, his pants and sleeves light up in the gentle glow of the Brown Bridge's famous historic lampost show. It's no brighter than his ghost glow, but it makes him look like a vision, especially when he puts the hat back on with a mysterious curl of his lips.

Danny practiced that move for weeks—even when it made him cringe—and he is happy to have pulled it off successfully as he twists around and struts away. The Brown Bridge only lights its lanterns in the winter, so this hits a true Gotham native here for the seasonal challenge portion.

With his superhearing, he manages to catch Tim Drake-Wayne's dreamy sigh. Danny fights the urge to fist bump. If they impressed the special judge so much, then they just guaranteed their spot in the next round.

Each round meant they were closer to completing the mission. Since it's been practically impossible to find Batman—even when the man was running around dressed like a giant bat—this was their best bet.

Once he's backstage, he rushes to Dan's area, already ripping off most of his outfit for the last piece. Spring dark academia vaguely reminded him of rich school uniforms, but at least they didn't have ridiculous amounts of belts and metal on them.

Dan already has the outfit set out and quickly helps him change. He adjusts the vest and collar for Danny, glancing angrily at the model walking up the line. "Come on, we only have a few minutes before the last two models finish their walk for the Winter portion."

Danny nods, throwing on the gargoyle ear cuffs, only to pause when he sees a strange card on Dan's station. He pushes aside the black rings to grab a tiny green card with a giant question mark. "What's this?"

"Some guy saw my work and wanted to commission him a suit. Apparently, he was tired of how no one could style the question marks." Dan answered, distracted while reapplying some powder to Danny's face.

"A question mark? Why?"

"It's his gimmick or something. I didn't bother to ask for too many details. He will be going to our house soon to get his measurements done," Dan says, twisting Danny's face with his chin to make sure everything looks good. Danny lets him, blindly slipping on his rings and bracelets. "Thought it be a fun little side project."

"How did he hear about you?"

"You remember how you took those boxes of clothes to the job search office to give to people? Apparently, one of his employees' younger brothers borrowed a suit for his prom, and he thought the photos were nice." Dan shrugs. Then he glances in alarm at the stage hand who signals for them. "Never mind that. It's almost our turn again. Get out there!"

Danny scurries away, but not before he sees a beautiful redhead woman in green- was that leaves and vines???- stride over to Dan as the clone puts away his makeup.

She gestures with a business card, and Dan blinks as she talks once before he eagerly takes out his design journal. She must be a performer asking Dan for a new forest design or something.

Danny wonders why Gotham has so many people with oddly specific gimmicks.

He turns his head away to stride back into the catwalk, head held high as he does so. Danny makes the mistake of locking eyes with one of the judges- Tim Drake-Wayne is gawking at him like the people of the street do- and he snaps his gaze away, fighting to keep his composure.

He thinks he does well since Team Fenton snatches first place in this round. Drake-Wayne catches him at the after-party, praising his final outfit so much that Danny offers to give it to him, knowing Dan wouldn't mind.

Drake-Wayne goes red, early agreeing, but since they are so different in size—the CEO's waist is slightly leaner but with far more muscular forearms—Danny tells him to come by his house that weekend to have Dan resize it for him.

It should be fine since the Question Mark man and Leaf Lady will also be there that day for their own measurements.

[farmerstarter]

Hi!! Could you do Sam HCs? It can be literally anything. I just love him so much :)

ʚ🛹ɞ ˚ · . Random Sam Headcanons

Tags: Sam from SDV x gn! reader

Hi! I'm so sorry for the super super super late response. Life has been pretty busy for the past few months and I haven't had the time to get on Tumblr. But, I'm slowly coming back to it! Anyway, likes and reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy, loves! 🌷🫶

🎸 He was absolutely thrilled when you asked him to teach you how to skateboard. He immediately came knocking on your door the first thing in the morning the day after you brought it up, carrying his skateboard and some gear. You two spent the whole day going over the basics, with Sam holding your hands and trying not to laugh when you would scream over the tiniest things (“I’m going to die, Sam!” “It’s just a pebble!”). A cute add-on: Vincent and your pet would tag along sometimes, and they took it upon themselves to be your personal cheerleaders. After some time and a few bumps and bruises, you and Sam would often skateboard all around the town, trying to impress each other with tricks. Sam has your name etched on his skateboard, and you have his name on yours.

🎸 Personal HC where Sam and Vincent stumbled inside the fruit bat cave while they were visiting. Sam got bit by a bat, nothing too serious. Vincent is horrified, and Sam decided to mess with him by pretending to be a vampire. Suspiciously, you find yourself missing a jar of your homemade jam. Turns out, Sam “borrowed” it (And by that, I mean he scribbled a little note on the place where your jam used to be), and covered it all over his face pretending it’s blood. He got a big scolding from Jodi right after though.

🎸 Sam and Krobus friendship, Sam and Krobus friendship, Sam and Krobus friendship! It all started when Sam looked into the sewer to show Vincent that no, there is no monster in the sewage canal. He was soon face to face with a shadow man and it was over. Krobus has a knack for beating the hard levels on Sam's video game and their friendship budded from there. Sometimes, Sam would disguise Krobus with his clothes so they can watch movies in the cinema together. You found out about them when you walked in on Sam trying to teach Krobus how to play the drums in the greenhouse.

🎸 Sam asked Jodi to teach him how to bake after he had the bright idea to ask you out on a picnic when you two started dating. It all started when Penny showed him those fancy little cakes that she ordered from Zuzu City as a treat for Vincent after the kid passed his math exam. Penny mentioned how you saw those cakes when she bumped into you by the bus stop and thought they were cute. Cue a light bulb in Sam’s head. Sam’s not the best cook, but he’s got the enthusiasm. He ended up with a lopsided two-tier cake with a little blob of fondant on top of it (Vincent’s lips pursed, “What’s with the brown rock?” Sam sputtered while Jodi’s laughter chittered in the air close by. “It’s a chicken!”). Sam would make up for it years later when he would remake the same cake for your wedding anniversary.

🎸 Sam would randomly call you in the middle of a rainy day and just play guitar riffs. No words exchanged. When he’s done, he will just hang up.

🎸 Sam gives you pretty seashells that he and Vincent dig up on the beach (sometimes with a little help from Elliott and Willy) instead of flower bouquets. He doesn’t want to risk sneezing all over you when the pollen would inevitably make his nose red.

🎸 Sam had a whole phase of wearing a cowboy hat when he’s working on the farm for the first few months.