#mori and reader

[your-local-simp-writers]

A Quiet Kind of Love

Word Count: 991

Warnings: None Note: This is meant to take place a year before the main events of host club!!

Takeshi Morix Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The kendo club was buzzing with energy as Y/N approached, clutching Mori’s forgotten notebook in her hand. She’d volunteered to bring it to him as an excuse to see him before their next class, but now that she was actually here, a hint of nervousness crept in. The faint sounds of wooden practice swords clashing mixed with laughter and loud chatter from the nearby track team warming up. The club room’s open doors allowed a rush of fresh winter air inside, bringing with it the familiar scents of the gym—slightly musty, mixed with wood and leather.

The kendo club was unusually lively today. Members were practicing in pairs, while others lingered by the benches, chatting and sharing snacks. Y/N noticed Mori instantly—he stood near the back, talking quietly with another member, his figure strong and grounded amidst the more animated crowd. Even from afar, he held an unshakeable calm, the kind of steady confidence that made him look perfectly at ease among the energy of his teammates.

One of Mori’s friends spotted her and grinned knowingly, nudging another member. “Hey, isn’t that Mori’s girl?” he whispered, a little too loudly, causing Y/N’s cheeks to flare red.

“Shut up,” another teammate replied, elbowing him. “Don’t embarrass her, she’s here for a reason.”

She took a steadying breath, then walked toward Mori, weaving her way past the chatting members and sparring pairs. She was nearly at the back of the room when Mori finally looked up, his gaze softening as he noticed her approaching. He inclined his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She couldn’t help but feel like everything around them faded a little.

“Y/N,” he greeted, his voice gentle but audible enough to cut through the noise. He took a step forward, shielding her from the bustling activity around them, creating an almost private bubble between them. His presence had a way of grounding her, calming her nerves even as her heart raced.

“Oh! Hi, Mori,” she stammered, immediately feeling her usual confident demeanor slipping away. “I… uh, I have your notebook. You left it behind in class.” She held it out, her fingers trembling slightly.

He accepted it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thank you. I would have missed it,” he said, his tone steady. His quiet gaze was fixed on her, and in that moment, the noise around them seemed to dim, the world shrinking down to just the two of them.

Before she could respond, a few of Mori’s teammates came over, waving at her cheerfully. One of them—a friend named Ryo—clapped Mori on the shoulder with a grin. “Wow, Y/N! You’ve saved Mori from another crisis, huh?”

Y/N laughed, her usual bubbly self peeking through. “Well, somebody has to look out for him!”

Another teammate chimed in, teasingly, “Hey, Mori, maybe you should leave stuff behind more often if it means Y/N will drop by. She livens up the place!”

Mori’s normally stoic expression softened slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he listened to the banter. He didn’t say much, but the slight shift in his posture suggested he was relaxed and at ease, his usual reserved self letting down a guard he rarely showed anyone else.

Y/N shifted a bit, trying not to let her flustered smile turn into an awkward giggle. “I wouldn’t want him to forget anything important,” she replied, earning more laughs from the group. The noise and chatter around them made the moment feel normal and casual, though the spark between her and Mori was unmistakable.

Finally, Mori’s attention settled back on her, his gaze making her feel like she was the only one in the room. “Thank you again, Y/N. Really.” His tone was softer now, and for a brief moment, she forgot everyone else was there.

Realizing she might be overstaying her welcome, she cleared her throat. “Well, I should probably let you get back to practice,” she mumbled, her cheeks warming. She made a move to turn, but Mori took a small step forward, matching her pace and walking beside her toward the door.

A teammate raised an eyebrow, watching them with mild surprise. “Mori, leaving practice early?” he teased, but Mori didn’t respond, his focus entirely on her.

The two of them walked to the entrance in comfortable silence, and as they reached the door, Y/N turned to say a final goodbye. Mori held her gaze, and without another word, he leaned in, brushing a soft, warm kiss against her cheek.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her breath catching as he pulled back. She hadn’t expected that, not here in front of everyone, and especially not from him. Yet he looked completely unbothered, the hint of a smile still lingering as he stepped back.

A few teammates nearby saw the kiss, and their reactions ranged from shocked whispers to knowing smiles. A friend nearby chuckled, nudging his buddy. “Looks like Mori isn’t as reserved as we thought.”

Feeling her face heating up, Y/N stammered, “I… I’ll see you in class tomorrow!” She quickly turned, practically skipping out of the club room, her hand pressed to her cheek as if she could keep his warmth there a little longer.

As she walked down the hall, a huge grin spread across her face, her heart still fluttering with the memory of Mori’s quiet affection. Even though he’d barely said a word, his actions had spoken volumes, and she knew that was his way of showing her just how much she meant to him.

Back in the club room, Mori’s teammates surrounded him, grinning and asking questions about what had just happened. But he only gave them a calm smile, shrugging nonchalantly. His silent, affectionate gesture spoke volumes, and as he returned to practice, that small, quiet smile lingered on his face, visible only to those who truly knew him.

[myderis]

one less, a hundred more ꒱ mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.2k

Sweat glistens on MYDEI’s exposed chest as he lowers himself down, muscles taut and rippling with every movement. You lie beneath him, grinning as you count each push-up, more specifically, each kiss he steals between reps.

“Twenty-six,” you murmur as his lips brush against yours again, rough but warm, carrying that rare gentleness he only shows to you. He chuckles, his breath fanning over your skin. “Counting kisses instead of push-ups? I see where your priorities are.”

You smirk, your fingers gently tracing the red markings across his body. “Can you blame me?”

Mydei dips down again, this time his lips press firmly against yours before he lifts himself back up, “Twenty-seven,” you whisper, the number barely leaving your mouth before he’s back for more.

The count continues, and every now and then, he pauses just enough to let you feel the warmth of his body, the weight of his devotion, and the love in his eyes before resuming.

“Fifty… fifty-one…”

By the time you reach ninety-nine, you sigh, and he doesn't like the look in your eyes. “Hmm… seems like we’re one short of a hundred.”

Mydei’s brows knit together, his warrior’s pride surfacing, not wanting to be damaged. “One short?”

You tilt your head innocently. “You know the rules, my love~ If it’s not a full set, you start over.”

He freezes for a second before he realizes what your plan has been all along. “You—” He can't be angry at you, but with a roll of his eyes, he lowers himself again, this time slower, knowing exactly what to do at times like this when you teased him. “If that’s how you want to play it… Then I better make sure you count properly this time.”

His lips capture yours once more, lingering just a little bit longer. “One,” you whisper, grinning against him as he smirks, and so, he starts again.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[antiiqueness]

sugar daddies who buy them and their babies matching red bottoms.

laying on his pristine black leather couch scrolling on your phone with your legs hoisted up on his lap, his pretty hands massaging your feet, you make a comment of how cute you think couples who match shoes are, and he goes all out with it. humming a little with a nod of agreement before immediately going to safari and looking up christian louboutin and purchasing the both of you a pair. letting out a small chuckle when you make a follow up comment on how you two should get matching converse. “sure sweetheart.”

seeing the way a cute little smile plasters itself on your face when he says he got the two of you a matching present days later, sitting you down atop the lavish dining room table and telling you to close your eyes as he gets the box, allowing you to open your eyes once he opens the box and grabs the first heel out, kneeling down and grabbing your foot between his long fingers gently placing the shoe on your pretty foot.

kissing up your legs as he puts the second heel on your other foot, commenting about how gorgeous you make them look, and about how cute the two of you are going to be wearing your matching shoes.

GOJO, geto, TOMURA, DABI, bakugou, HAWKS, CHUUYA, FYODOR, pm dazai, mori, tachihara, giyuu

[moriwood]

Director's Cut — l.hs

top!lee heeseung x btm!male reader smut with some plot 3.9k words

You are a film editor who frequently collaborates with director Heeseung on his rom-coms and dramas. When his latest project turns out to be an erotic thriller, you find yourself in the editing room struggling to make sex scenes feel real. Heeseung then boldly offers a solution: a hands-on demonstration of authentic sex.

includes: u suck heeseung, he fucks u, then he sucks u; he tells u what to do cuz he’s a director n u’re a struggling editor; then some filmmaking discussion for plot

“Stop it,” you say without looking at Sunghoon, scrolling aimlessly through the timeline on the monitor.

“Stop what?” he replies, tone mocking as he feigns ignorance.

“Staring. Grinning. Wiggling your eyebrows,” you mutter, keeping your voice low as you reach for your water bottle. “It’s just a sex scene.”

There’s too much skin on the screen. Too many shots of heaving and moaning men touching each other. Both your eyes and ears have been overstimulated for the past few hours, editing another film of Heeseung. This one stars Park Jongseong as Jay and Sim Jaeyun as Jake in an erotic thriller; their lifelong friendship strains when they start a casual sexual relationship with an underclassman, leading to escalating jealousy and possessive behavior.

You’ve worked on nearly every film he’s made, but this is the first time both of you are dealing with material that is so… graphic. Rom-coms and melodramas? Done, multiple times. Some arthouse film bordering on softcore porn? For the first time, now.

“I can’t help it. My little baby’s finding out how babies are made, I’m so proud,” Sunghoon whines, sipping noisily on his iced coffee. He leans against your desk, tilting his head. “You’re working on a movie like this with Heeseung. Alone. In this editing room. For hours, maybe days, we don’t know.” He drags out the last word with an exaggerated tone that makes you roll your eyes.

Your butt has practically molded to the cushion of your swivel chair at this point, a few more hours and you’d become one with it. “It’s just work, Sunghoon. Like every other project I’ve had with him. Purely professional. Clean business. Focused on the money,” you tell him, shooting him a warning look.

Sunghoon barks out a laugh, nearly spitting out his drink. “Lies! Professional? Sure. Clean? Hardly. Focused? On the money? Or the way his shirt is always unbuttoned so you can take a peek underneath?” He wiggles his eyebrows again. “You always work in this room that barely fits two and start talking about lighting ratios like it’s fucking foreplay.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Sunghoon cuts you off, wagging a finger in your face.

“Nuh uh. You don’t get to deny your completely obvious crush on the man. Everyone knows at this point. Maybe even Heeseung himself!”

“He doesn’t!” you retort, face heating up. You couldn’t even deny your tiny, harmless, and definitely not obvious crush on Heeseung anymore.

“We have evidence,” he says, donning a sinister grin.

“What evidence?” you sigh, further melting into your seat.

“Well,” Sunghoon begins, ticking off his fingers, “there’s the interviews. He always mentions you, the editor, as the reason why his films end up so well-received. Editors never get shoutouts like that!”

“I’m pretty sure he just appreciates everyone he works with,” you argue.

“Also! He reshot an entire scene because of your feedback a month after filming had ended—which, by the way, directors rarely do. He had to make the production manager book the location again! And the actors who had to reschedule. What a logistical nightmare.”

“Most likely I wasn’t the only one with such kind of feedback!”

“Okay then. He always—always—makes sure you’re comfortable during review sessions. You’re the only editor I know who has the director wrapped around his finger instead of the other way around.”

“He’s just being professional,” you reason, though your voice lacks conviction. It’s just a professional working environment. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sunghoon lets out a dramatic sigh, slumping back in the chair beside you. “Hopeless. Truly. I hope your dick shrivels up and falls off one day.”

“It’s already shriveling up from the amount of fake sex I’ve seen today,” you groan, pausing on a frame of an actor’s crotch covered in plaster. “Everyone’s turned to a Ken doll.”

“It’s okay,” Sunghoon places a hand on your shoulder, fake concern plastered on his face. “I am here to tell you that this film will be a critical and commercial success.”

“This,” you point at the monitor, “film?” you exasperate.

He smirks. “No, this upcoming porno between the director and his editor! Two horny men, stuck in a tiny room, practically watching porn together. The porn writers are salivating over your scenario.”

“Can you not?” you hiss, glancing at the door like Heeseung might walk in any second and hear this ridiculous conversation. “It’s an… experimental film,” you rationalize.

“An experimental film with a ton of sex scenes, blah blah. Or maybe sex sells and Heeseung wants a slice of the pie.”

“I’m the one that needs a slice of that pie, Sunghoon.”

“Are we still talking about money or are you talking about Heeseung’s ass—”

“If you’re not gonna help, just leave,” you groan, massaging the temple of your head.

“You’re working on something so adult—so filthy! How is Heeseung even gonna talk about it? ‘Oh, could you please make it look like they’re really having an orgasm? Oh, you don’t get it? Wait, let me show you how to get one.’ He’s using this project as an excuse to get all sexy with you!”

You snort. “Nothing about what you just said sounds sexy at all.”

“But you imagine it, don’t you?” he counters, raising an eyebrow. “I swear, if I catch the two of you recreating those sex scenes like you’re method acting…”

Before you can shove Sunghoon out of the room yourself, the door opens, and the temperature in the room immediately shifts. You swiftly turn your chair around, and you see Heeseung walk in with a stride, a presence so commanding you and Sunghoon suddenly sit up stiffly. He’s holding a stack of papers, probably copies of script revisions, and his usually calm and collected demeanor is being betrayed by his tousled hair and slightly unbuttoned dress shirt. Your gut says Heeseung is bothered by the subject matter of this film too.

“Sunghoon,” Heeseung hesitantly greets, gaze flicking between you and Sunghoon. He seems surprised to see you not alone in the room. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all, Heeseung,” Sunghoon replies brightly. “I was just leaving. Tried helping him a bit.”

“Oh, thank you,” Heeseung replies. “Quite a difficult film to work with this time.”

“You should be thanking this guy right here real hard,” Sunghoon laughs, throwing you a knowing look. He slips past Heeseung and clicks the door shut behind him, leaving you alone with Heeseung. The already tiny room suddenly feels way more suffocating.

“Hello. Doing okay?”

“Hello,” you politely nod, gesturing to the now-vacant chair beside you. You turn back to the computer. “I just finished the rough cut. But to be completely honest, my cut’s very dull.”

“Let me see,” Heeseung hums, a deep voice sending vibrations through your spine. Rather than sitting beside you, he stands behind you, a hand gently placed on the back of your chair. He leans over slightly, just enough for you to catch the scent of his woody perfume, and maybe to also take a peek at the top of his shirt, but you force yourself to keep staring at the screen. Sunghoon will never be proven right.

You drag your mouse across to one of the difficult scenes, hitting play. It’s a relatively silent scene, bar the moaning of Jake and Jay which reverberated in the speakers in the room. The scene is dimly lit, movements of the actors slow and deliberate. There is an occasional rustle of clothing, and the creak of floorboards. It’s supposed to be a build-up to a sex scene, but something felt off—it didn’t feel authentic. The original footage was so raw and beautiful on its own, yet after some snipping and adjusting some sliders, you made it look… restrained. Scripted.

“I think I ruined the sex scenes,” you explain.

“It’s alright,” Heeseung says, voice low. “But it’s too rushed. Hold Jay’s expression for a few more seconds before cutting to Jake’s reaction.”

You nod, making the adjustment on the timeline. It’s just a few seconds, but the rhythm flows more naturally.

“Better,” Heeseung mutters, a hum of satisfaction accompanying him. Better, but not yet the best, you thought.

You glance at him, surprised to find him already looking at you. His gaze is steady, unreadable, and you can’t tell if he’s studying the scene or something else entirely.

“What else should I do?” you ask, your voice coming out surprisingly quieter and meeker than usual, matching Heeseung’s subdued demeanor. 

A smile begins to play on his lips. “Hmm.” His tone is thoughtful, with an edge of teasing. “You usually take the lead when we’re in the cutting room, but you seem lost today.” He lets the words hang in the air. “Is it because you've never experienced scenes like this before?”

Your hands freeze over the keyboard. “It’s normal to be unfamiliar with the content you’re working with,” you defend. “I don’t need to be kinky myself to edit a kinky sex scene.”

“Relax, I’m just kidding,” Heeseung chuckles warmly, finally sitting down beside you.

“The tension doesn’t feel real,” you admit, taking a deep breath, fidgeting in a poor attempt to dissipate the tension around the small space. “It did before I messed with the footage.”

“‘Real,’ you say,” Heeseung mutters, leaning back. “Should I show you what authentic sex feels like?”

You whip your head toward him, eyes wide. “Excuse me, what!?”

He tilts his head, smirking. “I could show you. Right here, right now.”

Your brain short-circuits for. Mouth opening like a fish, you attempt to respond, but all that comes out is a strangled, “Huh?”

Heeseung leans closer, whispering, “You’ve been staring at this screen for how long, trying to fake something you haven’t experienced. I’m offering to help.” He pauses. “For the film, of course.”

Your face burns, and you glance at the door, heart pounding. “Are you hearing yourself?”

He shrugs, unfazed, and nods toward the monitor. “Play the sex scenes. Let’s go step by step.”

Before you can muster a coherent response, the door swings open. Sunghoon peeks, oblivious to his joke on the verge of becoming a reality. “Hey, you two want food? Might be here ‘til the morning,” he grins.

Heeseung smiles. “Actually, yeah. Remember that coffee shop where we shot Buzzer Beater Heartbeat?”

“That’s over an hour away.” Sunghoon blinks. “Do they even do delivery?”

“You could just drive?” Heeseung replies, tone leaving no room for argument. “We’re going to be here for a while anyway, right?” He glances at you, gaze so heavy your stomach flips.

“Uh… yeah,” you manage. “Go now, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon narrows his eyes, glancing between you two as if he’s piecing together a puzzle. “Okay… I’ll be back.” Then he silently turns and leaves, the door’s thud echoing in the silence.

Heeseung stands up and reaches past you to the monitor, arm brushing your shoulder as he drags the timeline back. Jay’s low groan fills the space—and he adjusts the volume, just enough to be heard outside. “There,” he murmurs. “Sound design covered.”

You turn your head, and he’s closer than you expected. Your pulse quickens, but Heeseung doesn’t hurry. His hand settles on the back of your neck, fingers threading gently into your hair, and he studies your face. “You’ve never really done this before?” he asks, gentle, almost placating.

You shake your head, mumbling, “No. Tell me what to do.”

“That’s okay,” he says, thumb brushing small circles against your skin. “Just follow my lead, yeah? No pressure.”

You nod as he leans in, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s barely there—testing the frame, a screen test for chemistry. He slowly deepens the kiss, allowing you to adjust as your hands settle on the soft fabric of his shirt.

When you part, Heeseung murmurs, “You’re trembling. You wanna stop?”

“No,” you mutter. “What’s next?”

He chuckles as he steps back and sits back down, legs spread wide. “Unbutton my shirt.”

You reach for his buttons, fumbling at first, but he doesn’t rush you, his hot gaze focused on you. His shirt falls open, finally revealing the skin that has haunted your dreams since you started working with him. “Come sit and touch me,” he whispers, “‘wherever feels right.”

You hesitate, glancing at the setting—monitor, keyboard, chairs, equipment. This room doesn’t feel like the greatest place to have sex in. “Won’t we break something?” you ask.

“We won’t,” he replies, not concerned in the slightest, then he raises the arm rests of his chair. “Plenty of room.” He pats his thighs. 

A new actor following his director, you follow his calm instruction, letting your fingers trace the lines of his collarbone, then down to his stomach. He hums, encouraging, leaning in to kiss you again.

“You can guess what’s next, right?” he says, as he holds your hand to the waistband of his pants.

You nod, kneeling as you take off his pants and boxers. His erect cock catches you off-guard, a more daunting presence from your position.

“Get comfy, touch it,” he smiles, reassuring. You wrap your fingers around him, warm and firm. You stroke it up and down, an action that you’re already familiar with, albeit only to yourself and not to someone else.

“Like that?” you ask, eyes flicking to his face for approval.

“Exactly like that,” he groans. “Now, if you’re ready, use your mouth. Just the tip first, don’t force yourself.”

You hesitantly settle your lips on the tip of his dick, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin. He exhales softly, hand steadying on your shoulder. “Breathe through your nose.” You take him in a little, and he hums approvingly, gripping tighter. “So good.”

The praise eases your nerves and you begin to explore, tongue experimenting his length. From the veins to the tip, you try to find a rhythm, but then your teeth graze him. You freeze as he flinches, but he recovers with a smile. “Mistakes are natural… Makes it real.”

The scene on the monitor has changed—Jake and Jay tussling around a kitchen counter, Jake’s slow submission to his best friend’s aggression, and their confused arousal. Jay takes control, the more experienced between the two, the buttons on Jake’s shirt flying away as he tears it open. The rip of a wrapper, the pop of a bottle cap; suddenly, Jake’s about to be fucked by his best friend, who is also his rival in pursuing the same guy.

Heeseung sighs as he gently pulls you back, thumb brushing some spit on your lips as he looks down at you. “You still okay? Let’s switch it up.”

You nod, swallowing hard as Heeseung reaches for his pants on the floor, pulling out a small packet of lube and a condom—the same brand that Jay used onscreen. “Gotta thank the props team for this,” he laughs. “Arms against the desk. Need to prep or it’ll hurt,” he explains, the cadence of his voice almost clinical.

His hands slide to your waist, tugging your pants down. The cool air makes you shiver but his touch grounds you. “Eyes on the screen, notice how they move.”

He preps you carefully, fingers slick with lube. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, one hand resting on your hip as he works through it. It’s not that painful nor is it that pleasurable, but you had no benchmark to base on. The parallel between Heeseung and the scene isn’t subtle: his and Jay’s patience in prepping, you and Jake awkwardly pinned against surfaces.

When he’s satisfied, he rolls the condom on, positioning himself behind you. “Ready?” he asks, lips nipping your earlobe. 

“Please,” you reply, gripping the edge of the desk. He presses forward, restrained and controlled. The stretch is intense but he lets you adjust, and he whispers, “Look at the screen, okay? Tell me what you see.”

And you do, every inch, every movement, mirrored by the actors on the screen. “Jay’s grip on Jake’s waist,” you murmur. “The restraint fading as Jay loses himself to the pleasure.” It's just like Heeseung holding you tighter as he starts to find a steady rhythm. “Fuck,” you whine. “Can’t see. Can’t—think.”

Heeseung’s teasing laughter reverberates through your body. “You know what makes it real?” he grunts, “I didn’t give them notes. Told them to interpret the script as they wanted. These aren’t the characters Jay and Jake anymore—it’s Park Jongseong and Sim Jaeyun trying so hard to hold back.” His voice grows breathless, heavier. 

His hand slides to your neck, pressing you gently against the desk. “So let’s go off-script too,” he laughs.

He pulls out and turns you around to face him. Heeseung smirks at the mess he’s made, brushing a stray hair from your forehead. “Still okay?” he asks.

You nod, catching your breath, eyes going in and out of focus. On the side, Jay and Jake are already tangled in their climax, while you and Heeseung are still teetering on the edge.

He sits back in his chair. “Sit. Face me and straddle me,” he sighs, stroking his still-hard cock.

You straddle him carefully, his hands quick to steady your hips as you lower yourself onto him. The new angle makes you gasp, the pleasure sharper but the pain renewed.

“Hold on to me,” he says, “I’ll do the work.” You loop your arms around his neck as he begins to rock beneath you. You nestle your head in the crook of his neck but he whines, “I wanna kiss you again.”

You meet his eyes and the intimacy of the situation sinks in—an unguarded close-up shot. The warmth of his minty breath, the slight hitches, his lips parting as he continues grinding.

“Kiss me,” he murmurs again, a plea. You lean forward, your lips meeting as if you were savoring the sweet opportunity. The scene called for it; otherwise, none of this would be happening. He pulls you closer, your chests beating right next to each other. 

The pleasure coils tighter, but it’s not enough to push you over the edge yet. For Heeseung, it was more than enough. His hips stutter, groaning against your lips as he cums, body tensing beneath you. “Shit, sorry,” he softly laughs.

You let out a low groan as he pulls out, disposing of the condom with a quick toss.

He lifts you off his lap, setting you on the edge of the desk. He sweeps his arm across the surface, sending his papers and your wireless equipment to the floor with a loud clatter. On any other day, you’d be scrambling to check if your expensive keyboard broke but Heeseung right now is an experience beyond price.

“Sit comfortably and spread your legs for me,” he commands as he moves his chair.

His fingers brush lightly along the inner side of your thighs, teasing it as he murmurs, “I had a scene like this in early drafts—Jay going down on Jake. Producers made me cut it off the script, said it was too explicit for the market.” His lips curve into a wry smile, eyes glinting with mischief. “Wanna film an uncut version with me?”

His hand wraps around the base of your twitching cock, then he presses a kiss to the tip, tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation is immediate, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. He hums as he takes you in, swirling around the head, the slit, while his eyes are just locked with yours. He strokes the base in time with his mouth, his other hand pressing your thigh open.

“How do you fucking do this?” you mutter in pleasure, fingers tangling in Heeseung’s hair as you push him further down. He only hums, picking up his pace, tongue working faster. And you moan louder, tilt your head back further, the wet heat making your toes curl.

“I’m—close, please,” you gasp, hips bucking and thighs involuntarily locking Heeseung in place. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t fight back, sucks and strokes faster. Your body arches off the desk, cumming hard in his mouth. He doesn’t pull away, swallowing every wave and lapping at you until you’re trembling and fully spent.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he pulls back. He pauses the playing cut on your computer, the room falling into silence. “Now you know what to do with the edit?”

Still sprawled across the desk with your head spinning, you barely register his phone buzzing from the floor. “Sunghoon,” he says, picking it up. “Yeah?” You sit up, realizing the disarray of the room. “Your wallet? Hang on.” You scan the floor, pointing to a white leather wallet under Heeseung’s discarded condom. “Oops,” he grins. “Yeah, you left it here.”

“Does it have to be that coffee shop?” he repeats. “No, no. Actually, I think we’re wrapping up for today. Yeah, just buy whatever with what you have.”

He hangs up and shrugs, already buttoning his shirt. “Better move fast ‘cause he’s coming back,” he says, tossing you your pants.

You stare at him, wide-eyed. “You’re making him come back now?”

You scramble to dress as Heeseung watches you, donning an infuriating smirk like he’s already envisioning another scene with you. “Sunghoon will know what happened immediately, and he will never shut up about it. Everyone’s gonna be talking about it,” you say.

“I don’t mind,” he replies. “Just so others know our best films come from working together.” He picks up Sunghoon’s wallet and tosses it onto the desk. “You good? No pain?” 

“Tolerable. All good. My personal activities kinda prepared me for this,” you confess.

Heeseung laughs, “So what did you take from this experience?”

You slightly wince at the pain as you pick up your miraculously unbroken keyboard and mouse. “Sex scenes are better if there are real organs involved?” you joke.

“No, but seriously. Did it at least clear up your mind?”

“What’s good already,” you start, pointing at the screen, “is the raw emotion in Park Jongseong and Sim Jaeyun. That’s why you had so many close-ups—droplets of sweat, goosebumps, shit like that.”

Heeseung hums, gathering the papers on the floor. “Their chemistry carried the scenes.”

“I overcut it, rushing to the payoff instead of letting the anticipation build,” you sigh, sitting down and scrolling to a different scene. It’s a static shot, the camera unmoving, no dialogue, just Jake and Jay lying in bed after having sex. The original footage was almost a minute long, but you cut it to around a quarter of its length. Looking at it now, your edit diminished the contemplation and guilt between the two friends.

“It’s technically solid, like you always do, but it’s not…” Heeseung pauses, thinking. “Visceral.”

“It’s sex and it’s usually gratuitous, but if we treat it with the same intricacy as the scenes before and after, it makes it hit harder,” you note.

“You’re really good at this, you know,” he smiles.

Your cheeks warm, but you shrug it off. “You give me good material to work with.”

“It’s enough that you caught something wrong with the edit before I even came here.”

You groan. “Can’t believe we’re back to serious work talk when you just fucked me to heaven and back.”

“We’re just professionals, I say,” Heeseung laughs. “We’ve got a film to finish—and maybe a few more scenes to figure out. Maybe a coffee shop or my place, next time?”

You meet Heeseung’s curious gaze with intrigue. “Only if you keep it to script revisions and some good food. I think we’ve got enough notes on the sex scenes.”

“No promises,” he grins. “My next film’s about the exploits of a film editor.”

author’s note: y'all would not believe that my inspiration is no doubt (okay very obvious and very normal) and a fucking podcast of filmmakers (it’s in filipino sorry) 😭 gist of it is the editor and his director were editing a sex scene together. the director said (roughly) that for a sex scene to be effective, the audience has to feel the release; then, that determines the length of the sex scene. it's censored but i think the director also physically demonstrated the "release"? like not actual sex, just made vaguely sexual gestures oasjfadaiofs guess when i got the idea for this fic based on the upload dates oafgjaoig 🥹

— moriwood.

[navi-the-flying-bee]

Valentine's day

(a/n): okay. I know i am VERY late,but to arrive late is better than not arriving. So... Forgive me?

Characters: Atsushi, Fukuzawa, Dazai, Fyodor, Mori, Chuuya, Ranpo, Poe, Nikolai.

Warnings: use of y/n. This took me too long but mostly because i had writing block while writing it (which was a month ago? Or two?) then i had to drag myself to continue it.

Nakajima atsushi

Valentine’s Day at the Armed Detective Agency was… chaotic.

Not that you were expecting anything less.

You had no real plans for the day. romance wasn’t exactly your forte. You were more of a “wait until the 15th and buy discounted chocolate” kind of person. But apparently, Ranpo had figured that out.

And that was a mistake.

“You’re telling me,” he said, eyes gleaming like he had just solved the world’s greatest mystery, “that you, didn’t think ahead about Valentine’s Day? How tragic.”

You groaned, burying your face in your scarf. “Leave me alone. It’s a capitalist trap.”

Ranpo took a slow, exaggerated bite of the expensive chocolate he had somehow acquired (probably by guilting Kunikida into buying it for him). “Ooooh, Kunikida’s gonna lecture you again.”

And just as he said that-

“Y/N!”

You flinched.

There he was. Kunikida Doppo, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking every bit like a disappointed teacher about to give a very long lecture.

“As a member of the Agency, you should have at least some consideration for your coworkers,” he scolded. “Valentine’s Day is about appreciation, not just romance.”

You nodded. “Understood.”

Kunikida blinked. “...Wait. Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, already sidestepping toward the exit, “I’ll write you all a heartfelt letter about how much I appreciate you later. Sound good? Okay, bye-”

“come back here-!”

You turned too fast and crashed right into Atsushi.

“Oh!, I was actually looking for you,” he said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I got you something.”

You blinked. “...For me?”

Atsushi held out a small box of chocolates, tied with a golden ribbon.

“Well… yeah,” he said, smiling shyly. “You always make sure everyone��s okay, so I figured you deserved something too.”

Your heart melted a little. “That’s-” You shook your head. “Atsushi, that’s unfair. Now I feel bad for not getting you anything.”

“No, no! It’s not about that,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to. You don’t owe me anything.”

You stared at him for a moment before smiling softly. “...Thank you.”

And that’s when it happened.

From across the room, Dazai smirked.

“How sweet,” he teased. “Ciel, did you just get a confession?”

You choked on your own words. “I- NO. Dazai, stop.”

Atsushi, now bright red, waved his hands wildly. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Dazai, clearly enjoying the chaos, dramatically clutched his chest. “Ah, young love! So pure, so fleeting-”

Ranpo, still munching on chocolate, leaned over. “Ten bucks says Kunikida tries to shut him up in the next five minutes.”

You scoffed. “Two minutes.”

And sure enough.

“DAZAI, GET BACK TO WORK.”

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Look. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to give President Fukuzawa something for Valentine’s Day. You just… didn’t know what.

I mean, what do you give someone so wise, composed, and effortlessly cool?

You couldn’t just hand him some cheap chocolates and call it a day.

“Just write him a letter,” Atsushi had suggested.

“Or get him cat-themed tea,” Ranpo had added with his usual knowing smirk. “He’ll love it.”

And that was how you ended up standing outside Fukuzawa’s office, holding a neatly wrapped box of cat-shaped tea bags (shoutout to Yosano for the shopping advice) and a small letter.

You hesitated.

What if this was weird? What if this was too much? What if he thought you were trying too hard?

Before you could spiral any further, the door slid open.

Fukuzawa looked down at you, calm as always. “y/n?”

You straightened up. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”

His gaze shifted to the gift in your hands. “For me?”

“Uh… yeah.” You hesitated before handing it over. “It’s nothing special, just some tea. And, um, a letter. You don’t have to read it or anything-”

Fukuzawa accepted the gift with a small nod. “Thank you.”

You exhaled. “Oh. Cool. Okay.”

You turned to leave when-

“I will read it.”

You froze. “Huh?”

Fukuzawa regarded you thoughtfully. “You are an expressive person. If you took the time to write something, it must have meaning.”

Oh.

Your face suddenly felt warm. “I- Uh- Yeah, I guess so.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, in an uncharacteristically soft tone, he added:

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

…

Did you just get praised by the President of the Armed Detective Agency?!

Atsushi and Kunikida found you five minutes later, sitting in the hallway, staring into space.

“She looks like she just saw a mythical creature,” Atsushi whispered.

“She basically did,” Ranpo replied, grinning.

Dazai Osamu

You messed up.

The second you hesitated in front of Dazai’s desk, you sealed your fate. Because that was all the invitation he needed to turn your day into a performance.

“Ohhh?” His eyes lit up with the thrill of chaos. “Could it be? y/n-chan, are you giving me a Valentine’s gift?”

And that was when you knew.

You were done for.

“No,” you deadpanned.

“What’s that in your hand, then?”

“Nothing.”

Dazai gasped. Full, dramatic, hand-to-chest levels of betrayal. “A confession?! Oh, Ciel, I’m flattered! But you should know, my heart belongs to the endless embrace of-”

“It’s chocolate, Dazai.”

He stopped mid-monologue. Just froze.

“Eh?”

With the patience of someone who had long accepted their suffering, you dropped the small box onto his desk.

“It’s just chocolate. Because it’s Valentine’s Day. And because if I didn’t get you something, you’d be insufferable about it.”

Dazai picked up the box, turning it over in his hands like it held the secrets of the universe. “So this is how much I mean to you, huh?”

“Do you want it or not?”

“Oh, I want it.” His smirk returned, far too pleased with himself. “I just didn’t expect you to be so bold”

You saw red. “I swear to God-”

“Did you put poison in it?”

“No, but I should have.”

“Ah, how cruel!” He collapsed against his desk like a tragic widow. “To think, my dear Ciel-chan, the one person I trusted, has betrayed me so—”

So you threw a piece of chocolate at his forehead.

It hit with a satisfying thud.

“Just eat it and shut up.”

And that should have been the end of it.

But then, Dazai looked at you, a real smile tugging at his lips.

Not the teasing kind. Not the act.

A small, genuine one.

“Thank you.”

…And for some reason-

That threw you off way more than the flirting.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

You weren’t sure why you were doing this.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was stupidity. Maybe it was some self-destructive impulse that made you think, Wouldn’t it be interesting to see how Fyodor Dostoevsky reacts to a Valentine’s gift?

So now you were here. In a dimly lit room. Sitting across from him.

Fyodor watched you with an unreadable expression, fingers tapping lightly against his teacup. “A gift? For me?”

His voice was smooth, polite-like he already knew your intentions and was simply indulging you.

You cleared your throat and placed a small box on the table. “Yeah. It’s… nothing special. Just chocolate.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ah. How thoughtful.”

He picked up the box, examining it with unsettling amusement. “Tell me,” he mused, violet eyes gleaming, “is this an act of goodwill? Or do you simply wish to see how I would respond?”

You hesitated. Damn it. He saw through you so fast.

“I mean…” You leaned back, crossing your arms. “Maybe both.”

Fyodor chuckled. “Honest. How refreshing.”

He unwrapped the box with deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment. “You intrigue me,” he admitted, plucking one of the chocolates between his fingers. “A human with a unique power… yet you walk willingly into the lion’s den.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re the lion?”

He smiled. a slow, knowing smile. “And what else would I be?”

Oh.

Oh.

You suddenly felt very, very aware of the fact that you had voluntarily given Fyodor Dostoevsky a Valentine’s gift. This was probably a bad idea.

He took a bite of the chocolate, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, tilting his head slightly, he asked:

“Tell me, … do you believe in fate?”

Your pulse quickened. “That depends,” you said carefully. “Are you about to make me regret this?”

Fyodor chuckled again, slow and deliberate. “Perhaps,” he murmured. “Or perhaps… this is just the beginning.”

You swallowed. Yeah. This was definitely a bad idea.

Mori Ougai

You would never give Mori Ougai a Valentine’s gift. Ever.

It wasn’t even about him being the leader of the Port Mafia-hell, you’d already given Fyodor chocolate, and he was arguably worse. No, Mori was just… dangerous in a different way.

The kind of dangerous that smiled too kindly while pulling the strings behind the scenes.

So imagine your absolute horror when you walked into your regular café, to your daily table and found a beautifully wrapped gift box waiting for you.

With a card.

Signed: Mori Ougai.

…You stared.

No. No, no, no. This was bad.

You immediately turned on your heel-only to find Mori standing right behind you.

“Going somewhere, y/n-chan?” he asked pleasantly.

You barely stopped yourself from jumping. “Nope.”

Mori smiled. Too kindly. “I heard you were handing out gifts today, so I thought I should return the favor.”

“…I didn’t give you anything.”

“Not yet.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m never giving you anything.”

Mori sighed dramatically. “Ah, so cruel. Even after I went through all this trouble?”

Your gaze flicked to the box. Suspicious. “Is it poisoned?”

He chuckled. “Now, now, what kind of man do you take me for?”

“The exact kind who would absolutely poison a gift.”

Mori only laughed. “It’s nothing dangerous, I promise. Just a small token of my appreciation.”

Yeah, right. That sounded ten times worse.

“…Appreciation for what?”

“For being so interesting, of course.” His smile widened. Too wide. “I do hope we continue to cross paths.”

You picked up the box like it might explode.

“Great. That’s definitely not ominous.”

Mori simply chuckled, stepping away. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear.”

You decided right then and there that you were never opening that box.

Nakahara Chuuya

You had debated this for days.

Giving Chuuya Nakahara a Valentine’s gift? Risky.

He wasn’t exactly the romantic type... well, not in the cheesy way, at least. And honestly? You weren’t even sure if he’d want chocolate from you.

But after hours of overthinking, you finally decided: screw it.

Worst case scenario? He’d mock you and move on.

Best case scenario? …Well, you weren’t sure yet.

So here you were, standing outside Mafia HQ, clutching a small bag of premium dark chocolate truffles and second-guessing your entire existence.

Before you could change your mind, the door swung open.

Chuuya stepped out.

And paused immediately when he saw you.

You blinked. “…Oh.”

He frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I-” You hesitated, then just shoved the bag at him. “Here.”

Chuuya looked down at it, confused. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s-” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “It’s chocolate, okay? For Valentine’s Day.”

Chuuya stared.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into an amused smirk.

“Well, well,” he drawled, taking the bag. “Didn’t take you for the type to hand out gifts.”

You groaned. “If you’re gonna make this weird-”

“Nah.” He shook his head, opening the bag and popping a truffle into his mouth.

Immediately, his eyes widened.

“…Shit. This is actually good.”

You crossed your arms. “Of course it is.”

Chuuya chewed thoughtfully, then glanced at you. Something unreadable flickered in his gaze.

“…Tch.” He looked away, a little flustered. “Thanks, I guess.”

You blinked. “Wait, did you just-”

“I swear to god, don’t make a big deal out of it.”

You grinned. “You totally just-”

“Shut up.”

You laughed, watching as he pointedly refused to meet your eyes.

For someone so tough.

He sure was easy to fluster.

Ranpo Edogawa

You should have known this would happen.

Giving Ranpo Edogawa chocolate on Valentine’s Day? That was practically signing up to be made fun of for the rest of your life.

But at this point, you’d already given chocolate to Dazai, Chuuya and Fyodor (questionable life choices). What was one more?

So you marched up to Ranpo’s desk, dropped the small box of sweets in front of him, and crossed your arms.

“Here.”

Ranpo didn’t even glance up from his snacks. “Oho? A bribe?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, you idiot.”

He finally looked up, grinning like the little menace he was. “So… a confession?”

You rolled your eyes so hard you saw the ceiling. “It’s just chocolate. Don’t make this weird.”

Ranpo picked up the box, turning it in his hands with a thoughtful hum. His green eyes twinkled like he was already three steps ahead of you.

“Hmmm… I already knew you were gonna give me some, of course.”

“Sure you did.”

“I did! After all, I’m the greatest detective in the world.”

You smirked, leaning forward. Oh, you were gonna enjoy this.

“Okay then, Mr. Detective.” You crossed your arms. “What flavor is it?”

Ranpo blinked.

You saw the exact moment the gears in his head stuttered.

“…What?”

“You heard me.” Your smirk widened. “If you’re sooo smart, you should already know what kind of chocolate it is.”

He squinted at the box like it might reveal its secrets if he stared hard enough. Then-without breaking eye contact. he popped the box open and ate one.

“Hazelnut.”

Your jaw dropped. “You-”

“See?” He grinned, smug as hell. “Told you I knew.”

“YOU JUST TASTED IT.”

“Still counts.”

You groaned, resisting every violent urge in your body.

“I should’ve given it to Kunikida instead.”

Ranpo was already reaching for another chocolate. “Nah. You like me too much for that.”

You did not dignify that with a response.

Edgar Allen Poe

You hadn’t originally planned to give Poe a Valentine’s gift.

Not because you didn’t like him. Poe was actually one of your favorite people. It was just that… well, you weren’t sure if he even cared about Valentine’s Day.

But then you thought about how happy he’d look if he received a gift.

And, well… how could you resist?

So you made your way to a quiet, dimly lit corner of Yokohama’s library, where Poe usually hid away to write. You found him at his usual table, Karl curled up beside him, as he scribbled something in an old notebook.

You placed a carefully wrapped package in front of him.

Poe jumped slightly, blinking up at you. “y/n?”

You grinned. “Valentine’s gift.”

There was a long pause.

Then-

“Karl! She brought me something!”

You barely had time to react before Poe snatched the package with surprising speed, unwrapping it as if it held some ancient secret.

Inside was a beautifully bound, leather-cover notebook with delicate gold-embossed edges.

Poe froze.

His hands trembled slightly as he picked it up, eyes scanning every little detail. “This is…” His voice was almost a whisper.

“I figured you might like a new notebook,” you said, shrugging. “Y’know, for all your writing.”

Poe slowly looked up at you.

You blinked.

Was he… tearing up?

“…Poe?”

“This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received,” he declared dramatically, clutching the notebook to his chest. Karl squeaked in agreement.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Glad you like it.”

Poe nodded furiously, then froze-as if remembering something important.

“Wait here!” He rummaged through his bag, then returned holding a small, carefully wrapped package.

“For me?” you asked, surprised.

Poe nodded eagerly. “Karl and I prepared it just in case!”

You opened the package to find a collection of beautifully handwritten short stories, bound together in a small book. The title page read:

“To y/n, A Collection of Mysteries & Dreams.”

Your breath hitched. “Poe…”

He flushed slightly. “I, um… I hope you like it.”

You grinned, holding the book close. “I love it.”

Karl climbed onto your shoulder, squeaking happily.

Best Valentine’s exchange ever.

Nikolai Gogol

You knew something was wrong the second you stepped into the Agency.

Everyone was staring at you. Some with curiosity. Others cough Kunikida cough with visible irritation.

You blinked. “Uh… what?”

Dazai smirked, nudging you forward. “Why don’t you check your desk, (Y/N)-chan?”

A sinking feeling settled in your gut.

Slowly, you turned-

And froze.

Because sitting on your desk was a massive, gift-wrapped box with a tag that read:

“To My Dearest, From Your Secret Admirer (Guess Who~!)”

You felt actual fear.

“No.” You turned to the others. “I am not opening that.”

Ranpo, casually eating a snack, snickered. “Smart choice.”

Before you could destroy the box yourself, the lid burst open-

And out popped Nikolai Gogol.

“SURPRISE, MOYA LUBOOOOV!” he sang, arms spread wide.

You screamed. Kunikida almost had a stroke.

Nikolai cackled, hopping out of the box. “Did you like my present, my dear? A gift from the heart- ME!”

You stared at him in horror. “Get back in the box.”

“Aw, but I worked so hard on this!” He spun dramatically. “I even thought about filling it with doves-maybe a few fireworks, but apparently, that’s ‘too dangerous indoors’ or whatever.”

“You-” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “What do you even want?”

Nikolai grinned. “Just your reaction, of course! And to see if you’d join my villain arc!”

You crossed your arms. “Hard pass.”

Nikolai pouted. “Booooring.” Then, with a snap of his fingers, he vanished.

You sighed in exhaustion.

Then, from somewhere above you, his voice echoed:

“Check under your desk, love~!”

You did not. You simply walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Help! I feel the writing block coming back again. So i may disappear till then if you have any questions or requests? You know where to send them. Anyway i am going to my corner rn. Bye..

[moodnoodle]

ouran doodle pt 4

[mysticalstuff]

Ohshc! Reaction to insecurity about money:

Never seen anyone include Renge so,…but can you tell who my favorite is?

Haruhi

Haruhi would completely understand where you’re coming from, as she grew up in a similar situation. She’d gently remind you that there’s no shame in needing help and would probably offer compromises, like splitting the cost or cooking meals together. She’d want you to feel comfortable without making a big fuss.

“I get why you feel that way, but there’s nothing wrong with asking for help. Besides, it’s just food—it’s not like I’m expecting you to pay me back with interest or anything.”

Tamaki

Tamaki would be heartbroken at the idea of you feeling self-conscious about money. He’d dramatically proclaim that he wants to take care of you and insists that you shouldn’t hesitate to ask. Expect a lot of heartfelt speeches about how your happiness matters more to him than money. He’d also make a point of showing you how much he enjoys "commoner" meals to make you feel less out of place.

“Mon amour, your happiness is priceless! Let me treat you—it’s the least I can do for the person who has captured my heart!”

Kyoya

Kyoya would handle it more pragmatically. He’d notice your hesitations before you even voiced them and would discreetly handle expenses without making a big deal out of it. He might casually say something like, “I was planning to cover it anyway,” to ease your worries.

“You worrying about this is a waste of time. Let me handle it—money isn’t something you need to concern yourself with around me.”

Honey

Honey would immediately insist on treating you, probably while hugging you tightly and offering you cake. He’d say something like, “You’re so silly! Of course I’ll pay for it!” He’d never let you feel guilty about it and would focus on making you smile instead.

“As long as I get to see you smile, that’s all that matters! Now, how about some dessert?”

Mori

Mori wouldn’t say much, but his actions would speak volumes. If he noticed you hesitating, he’d simply take care of the bill without a word and maybe give you a comforting pat on the head or a small smile to reassure you.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Hikaru

Hikaru might initially struggle to understand why you’re self-conscious, as he’s used to a world where money is never an issue. He’d probably tease you at first, saying something like, “Why are you being so dramatic about something so small?” But when he realized your feelings were genuine, he’d become protective.

“You’re with me now, so stop worrying about stuff like this. Just let me take care of it, okay?”

Kaoru

Kaoru would be more intuitive and empathetic than Hikaru about your self-consciousness. He’d notice your hesitation immediately and gently address it, saying something like, “You know it’s okay to ask for help, right? It doesn’t bother me.”

“You don’t have to carry this on your own. I want to help you, not because I have to, but because I care about you.”

Renge

Renge would be over-the-top about wanting to help. She’d dramatically declare that it’s her duty to make sure you’re cared for and would probably come up with elaborate plans to spoil you.

“As your devoted partner, it’s my responsibility to take care of everything! Leave it to me, darling!”

Two posts in a month!?!? I believe that’s a new record for me! (Not really).

[ren-054]

OHSHC self insert au fic art in 2024??? damn

I wrote the AU nearly 3 years ago and it’s just been sitting in my notes, so I thought it’d be fun to visualize some of the scenes aksnsk

[babyouran]

Ouran High School Host Club - have you ever wanted to be a part of the plot? well in this fan fiction, you are put right in! y/n is the daughter of the Takahashi family who owns a successful technology company. through her friendship with haruhi she is introduced to the club and soon enough becomes a member. join her through the silly adventures and blooming relationships with her fellow hosts!

I ~ Trust Me!

II ~ Beware of the Physical Exam!

III ~ Attack of the Lady Manager!

IV ~ The Twins Fight!

V ~ The Grade School Host is the Naughty Type!

VI ~ Jungle Pool SOS!

VII ~ The Sun, the Sea, and the Host Club!

VIII ~ A Challenge from Lobelia Girls' Academy

IX ~ A Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family!

X - Big Brother is a Prince!

XI - Honey's Three Bitter Days!

XII - A Mysterious New Guest!

[marwhoa]

request: omgggg <33 did not know u did ohshe!!! i love the way u did mori u did him justice!!! is it possible to for you to write mori x tiny reader please? i just find the height difference very cute and comical. thank u! 💕

🝮 mori-senpai headcanons

morinozuka takashi x short!reader

author’s note: I like Mori :)) my favorite is Hikaru, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t write for anyone else uwu 💕

word count: 1.2k

ఌ As he does with Honey, Mori can’t help but hold you. For one, he doesn’t want to accidentally knock into you, since you’re a bit out of his peripheral vision, and he has a habit of zoning out if there’s no sense of danger! If you hate being picked up, he’ll respect that, but do note that he is crying a river mentally.

ఌ secretly finds it irresistibly adorable when you’re too short to reach things and need his help. One of his fondest memories is when he just happened to be in the right place at the right time in the library!

During study time, Mori wandered off to the library to search for books on the women’s court in the Heian Period. While he was searching, he turned down one of the aisles to catch you grumbling under your breath about how “ all the books I need just had to be placed right out of my reach, what a joke! “

He didn’t intervene! Just watched fondly as you pulled a step stool over to solve the problem yourself (you’re independent! surely you have a few tricks up your sleeve to navigate a taller world?).

Thing is, the step stool wasn’t tall enough, so you resorted to standing on your tippy toes and trying to nudge the book into a free-fall. That is when Mori intervenes, as he watched the book shelf teeter under your inadvertently-tugging hand.

“ Y/N! “

It all happened so quick. You swore the world seemed to slow as the stool beneath you flipped and the books began cascading down the shelves towards you. With your hands crossed over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the impact. While your butt hit the floor hard, you were surprised to find your back never met the same fate.

Instead, there was a light pressure and warmth radiating from the small of your back.

Opening your eyes hesitantly, you tuned in to the pained grunt and watched as Mori was hovering over you. The weight of the bookshelf was heavy on his back, but nothing could convince him to step aside and let you take the brunt of this instead.

“ Oh god, Mori?! You—“

You were at a complete loss of words. Thankfully others in the library quickly noticed and came to help lift the bookshelf. Before you were both free, you didn’t miss the out-of-breath whisper by your ear.

“ At least you’re safe.. ”

ఌ Stays close to you in crowded situations. He will use his height and strength to his advantage to ensure you have a comfortable amount of wiggle room regardless of where you’re at—the cafeteria during high traction times, the commoners’ train while it’s rush hour, malls experiencing season-high discounts, etc. Regardless of the setting, you can count on him.

ఌ Mori can tend to have cuteness aggression, and having a partner shorter than he is definitely contributes to that. He refuses to acknowledge he ever did this, but you can remember plain as day a particular study session in the third years’ science class after school.

As you sat across the table from Mori, yammering on and on about the current problem stumping you both, there was an odd creeping feeling that he wasn’t paying attention. Lo, and behold, as you rose your head to fact-check, you found Mori’s eyes just staring at you, clear as day that not a thought was processing behind those eyes.

Just before you could reprimand him, Mori shot up in his seat and rounded the table to stop at your side.

“ Whuh—“

Dumbly, you mumbled out a noise of confusion as his hands planted firmly on your cheeks and kneaded the flesh before then pushing until your face was scrunched up and making duck lips. You tried to swat him away but found your hand freezing in midair as an unfamiliar expression washed across his features.

Laughter. Mori had actually burst into laughter, a pure and genuine laugh that echoed in the room like the sun’s rays radiating in summer. You decided to let it slide for now.

ఌ Unlike the sweeter Honey, you tended to be more of a spitfire. A feisty fire that definitely fought back, and sometimes that worried Mori. While you could hold your own verbally with a silver tongue, some people can be a bit more… physically combative, as seen in the case with a particular vacation that landed Haruhi in danger with some particularly confrontative boys. While Mori wasn’t too much a fan of how frequently you could end up in danger, he was amused by how easily most of your enemies would tuck tail and run if he so much as glared them down from behind you.

And it was quite rewarding whenever you’d turn to look at him with a big triumphant grin, shamelessly declaring “ see ? you have nothing to worry about—they’re intimidated by me! “

ఌ Even though Mori yearns to dance with you whenever the host club holds parties, because of the size difference, he usually chickens out of even offering to dance with you. He’d hate to ruin an experience like that with you just because the difference in height is so comically large.

What he didn’t account for is your free spirited personality not caring one wink of how others would perceive you two dancing—you also know that he may be tall, but it’s not like your 3 feet tall compared to his 6’4 ass. At one of the most recent soirées, you almost-quite-literally swept him off his feet when you asked for a dance.

As you both took to the floor and swayed in each other’s arms, slowly the other partygoers began enraptured by the sight. Fortunately for you two, you had both melted so far into each other’s gaze and warmth that the others watching you had completely gone unnoticed.

Mori cursed himself for being so dumb and taking so long to ask a dance with you.

He also ended up purchasing his first set of photos from Kyoya’s personal collection. They had captured you both in such a perfect light and detail that he considered opening a museum in your honor. All just to show the world what a masterpiece you both made together.

He decided against it.

The photos instead sit upon the walls of his room, congregated on the exact spot he faces every night before bed.

ఌ Once y’all are together, you tend to rely on Mori a lot more, as per the rules of “ Girlfriend Incompetence ” or otherwise known as princess brain. Things you could very well do on your own are instead passed to him as something “ only he can do ! you couldn’t possibly do it yourself ?? “

A book on the higher shelf? Well, you could easily get a step stool, but why do that when you could bat your pretty li’l eyes at Mori-senpai and he would bring down the moon at your request?

A puddle obstructs your path? D’aw, well, just go around it! Or, you could turn to Mori with a pouty lip and a sweet little “ please? “ He’d sweep you up in an instant—an easy task with how much smaller you are—and easily traverse over the puddle. You would find yourself mentally lamenting just how much longer his legs are, but you’ll get over it since it grants you the privilege of being in his embrace.

[oikasugayama]

Bsd chart for how loud the guys are in bed? Please? Maybe?

you requested this on jan. 6 and i really took my time.........thank you for your patience (: i'm not necessarily back, but i've been wanting to post something for a while~

They're louder than they realize...

Atsushi, Poe, and Ranpo. (All three get completely lost in the throes of passion and don't realize to the slightest extent how loud they're being.)

They're loud and they're absolutely unapologetic.

Mori, Chuuya, Nikolai, Tachihara. (Three of them (M, N, T) are cocky and essentially putting on a show for you of how good they feel, whereas Chuuya is just naturally vocal and isn't going to hide it.)

You honestly expected them to be louder...

Akutagawa (is naturally quiet and does not change in bed), Dazai (is so stunned by the touch of someone he's finally let in that his whimpers and moans are all breathy and soft), Fukuzawa (is too calm to be loud-- he can control himself very well).

They try to keep themselves from being too obnoxious.

Ango, Fyodor, Kunikida. (While Fyodor may be embarrassed to be loud lest you realize the control you have over him, the other two are quiet out of some misconception that you wouldn't think it's attractive for them to be loud.)

[constellationguy]

Pet Names:

OHSHC edition

-Tamaki Suoh

-Princess, sweetheart, my love, darling, care bear

Tamaki prefers classic and saccharine nicknames. He will use any and all sweet, wholesome pet name under the sun for you. Uses pet names more than your actual name to refer to you.

-Kyoya Ootori

-Doll, sugar, my star, mouse, button, lovely

Kyoya is also a fan of classic pet names but typically goes for more sophisticated ones. In front of people he mostly uses your name with a pet name here or there, and it’s a similar case when you’re alone.

-Takashi Morinozuka

-Bunny, angel, my moon, dragonfly, duchess

He has sweet and meaningful pet names for you. He the more personal the pet name is the quieter he will whisper it into your ear. In front of people he only uses your name but behind closed doors he will not say your actual name unless he has to, it’s a little bit like pulling teeth for him.

-Mitsukuni Haninozuka

-Baby, bubs, sweetie, my dumpling, plum

Honey also really likes sweet nicknames for you. Both with and without company he uses pet names without care. He comes up with new pet names very often but they are all sweet and half the time food related.

-Haruhi Fujioka

-Babe, my robin, pretty, dearie

She likes older sounding pet names, the kind grandparents use. She uses charming pet names with you, classics that never grow old. She only really uses them in domestic and extremely casual settings though.

-Kaoru Hitachiin

-Honey, my sunshine, pumpkin, Juliet

He enjoys classic, everyday pet names. Something stuck with him when he read Romeo and Juliet, so he calls you his Juliet. He’s the type to primarily use pet names behind closed doors.

-Hikaru Hitachiin

-Pookie, my lamb, peanut, Viola

He is all over the place when it comes to pet names, one moment it’s wholesome, another it’s flirty, and another it’s teasing. He likes to openly use pet names, he’s way less shy about it. His favorite Shakespeare play was Twelth Night, he enjoyed the humor and also really likes the characters, he truly sees you as his Viola that makes his life complete, you are his other half.

[myderis]

the promised fairytale ꒱ mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.3k

“Are you two married?” A small boy with a sword in hand, eyes bright and full of curiosity, turns to MYDEIMOS, and the prince immediately opens his mouth to dismiss the idea. “No, we are no—”

“Oh, Mydei. I didn’t know you saw me that way~” you tease, standing at the dusty training grounds as the kids swing their wooden swords around, trying to be just like their role models. His face flushes a little, but he doesn’t break his cool or let you tease him further.

“I don’t. More training, less talking,” Mydei says, keeping his attention on the little girl trying to hold her wooden weapon properly, though his annoyance is hard to ignore.

The girl looks up at the prince, raising an eyebrow. “You two argue like my parents do.” Mydei freezes, caught off guard by her bluntness. He rolls his eyes and sighs, walking away to take a breather, not wanting to have this conversation again. “Let’s take a break.”

As the children are happy with their well-deserved rest, you sidle up to them, handing them water or the much-preferred pomegranate juice. “He’s just shy. Give him time.” You wink, nudging the boy who started it all. “Now, now, who wants some sweet treats?”

The little girl takes advantage of you being occupied and approaches Mydei. She looks up at him, her hands carefully clutching her sword. “If I were like Lady (Name), a beautiful and good woman, and a prince like you came along…” She pauses, having that dreamy look on her face, waiting for his reaction. “We'd get married. That’s what happens in the fairytales, right?”

Mydei stands still, gazing down at the child and then at you, observing how your smile makes the rest of the children happier, how you just being here makes him feel so … giddy. He exhales deeply, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, fairytales are a bit nonexistent.” He glances at you, his voice soft. “But you should never settle for anything less than you deserve.”

“Really? Is the wedding soon?” The prince rolls his eyes and ruffles her hair, making her laugh, but he doesn’t answer, and she only takes his answer as a promise that it will happen.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[yonomori-rei]

Sweet Liar, you like it when I’m rough…

A/N: Hey all! Rei here! This is my first time writing full smut…so pls let me know how I did! *Goes and and hides in shame for all the sins*

He slowly inched his way inside, thick cock bullying your spongy walls into submission. He wasn’t being rough with just his actions, no, he was being so fucking mean with his words too. Your needy whimpers and soft pants only served to heighten his arousal.

“My little slut likes that?” 

He is mocking that scream that had emitted from your lips moments prior, and with a dangerous smirk, he begins to force his bulbous tip to hit that exact spot from before with merciless precision, making you see stars as your eyes roll back. Moans and whines fill the air as you claw at his back desperately, trying in vain to get the beast above you to slow down, but no…nothing, not even you and your innocent eyes, can stop him from achieving his goal.

His goal of breaking you.

“‘S too much! P-please!”

He laughs at your pathetic attempt to speak through your derisive haze, and instead of obliging, only proceeds to fuck you faster, making your thighs shake uncontrollably at the sheer power behind each thrust. Gasps leave your plump lips, mouth agape as the most pornographic sounds escape, the lewd background noise from where you and your lover are joined adding to the symphony. You try to squirm away from the painful pleasure, but he’s having none of it, instead, opting to give you more. Hot mouth captures your nipples, sucking with a hint of sharp teeth, and his fingers come down to rub rapid circles on the bundle of nerves, and soon, explosions of utter bliss racked your body, forcing you to clench down like a vice on his throbbing cock, and a few sloppy thrusts later, warmth fills your cunt, overflowing and leaking out of you in the most messy way possible.

With a mocking grin, he wipes away your tears with a deceptively gentle hand, as he whispers in a low voice in your ear,

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it…after all, you like it when I’m rough.”

→ Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Jouno, Mori + ur choices 😉

[moriwood]

Good Top Bad Top — s.jy + p.js

top!park jongseong + top!sim jaeyun x btm!male reader smut (pretty much pwp) 2.6k words

Worn thin by a grueling school project, you and Jake crash at Jay’s place, innocently drifting off to sleep. The stillness of the night soon warps, jolting you awake as Jay defiles you. Suddenly thrust into a threesome, you struggle between Jay’s brutality and Jake’s tenderness.

includes: uhhhhhhhhm just filthy sex between u n two college dudes, the plot’s just for foreplay like irl porn aFKOPZKDF warning: somnophilia, !!NONCON!! (technically dubcon, it just shows up really late after the sex)

You feel suspended in nothingness, drifting in and out of a state of being awake and asleep. The air conditioner blasts through the stillness of Jay’s room, yet your skin prickles with an unnatural heat. Something breathes against you, soft and featherlight, tickling your nape to a rippling shiver down your spine. Then a heavier sensation follows, a weight pressing down across your chest. 

Your back feels hot, pinned against something firm and slick—a cock, you realize with a terrifying clarity—grinding lazily against you, a warm and sticky trail sloppily leaving its stains at the small of your back.

“Ah,” a faint sound escapes you, shaky and unintended, as a hand slips beneath the waistband of your shorts. Fingers hungrily roam your skin, brushing the length of your hardening dick before settling on the tip, teasing it with a slow and deliberate swipe of your leaking precum.

“Fuck,” Jay grunts, cutting through the haze. “You wake up too fast.”

You blink your eyes open to darkness, only a faint glow coming from the lampshade on Jay’s nightstand. Textbooks and legal pads sit in uneven stacks beside empty energy drinks and coffee cans, remnants of an exhausting school project just a few hours ago. You twist your head, panic rising in your chest, and you desperately move to push away the fingers squeezing your cock, but Jay’s grip is unyielding. An arm snakes around your neck, a muscled vise tightening just enough to make your breath hitch, while a leg slides over your waist, pinning you to the mattress. You’re trapped, Jay’s breath hot and minty with vape residue against your ear, growling words you can’t decipher.

“Jay,” you gasp, “what the fuck!?”

“Sorry,” he mutters, voice dripping with insincerity, “can’t hold it anymore.”

He drags your shorts down, fabric catching on your thighs, teasingly scraping your skin before sliding free, your cock twitching in the cool air. His lips find your neck, a possessive bite breaking the surface with a faint sting that could only be followed by bruise later on. He lingers, sucking hard, then nips at your jaw, before tracing a wet lick behind your ear. “Fuck,” he mutters against your skin, ragged, “you’re so perfect. So unblemished. Gonna look so good fucked raw. You want that, huh?”

You thrash against him, but Jay’s just too immovable—taller, broader, frame honed by arrogance and strength. His hands roam your body with greed, nails scratching your flesh. Every attempt to break free tightens his grip, fingers digging deeper, your skin blooming purple under his touch as your breaths come shallow.

“Don’t squirm too much,” Jay warns, thick with menace. “Jake might wake up.” He pauses, thigh shifting to press harder. “Or maybe you want that? Want him to see me split your tight ass open? Maybe he’ll want a go too,” he grunts, his hard-on rutting against your bare ass and smearing precum across your behind.

You shake your head in disbelief, the thought of Jake getting tangled in this depravity a nightmare you can’t imagine. Your blurry eyes dart across the room, searching for Jake’s shadow on a spare mattress, chest rising and falling steadily, oblivious. In this supposed overnight project session, he is the innocent third, a potential lifeline you can’t quite reach.

“Stop fighting,” Jay snaps, patience fraying. He aggressively shifts his weight, slamming you face-down into the bed. Your stomach presses into the mattress, satin sheets scraping against your skin; your erection throbs painfully with every slight movement. “You waltz in here,” he grunts, “ass begging for it in these slutty little shorts, and think I’ll just lie here beside you with my dick in my hand?”

The rumors have been lingering around you for months: Jay begging your professor to pair you for this group project, him brushing against you in the halls, a knowing smirk daring you to deny him. You had dismissed it as gossip, chalked it up to his notorious reputation. Jay always got what he wanted, consequences be damned. The sound of a bottle cap pops and the wet, sloppy noise of Jay slicking something follows, dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

“Please,” you say, having a good guess of what’s coming next. “Jay, don’t.” Your hands clutch the sheets, knuckles whitening.

“Shut up,” he snarls, and a hand comes down hard on your ass. The pain flares, sharp and immediate, making you bite your lip to stifle a scream, the metallic taste of blood spilling as it splits. But he doesn’t stop, another hit lands. Then another. Then another, each one slower and heavier as your vision blurs with tears. “Sluts like you,” he growls, “get fucked raw. Sluts like you need your pretty little holes ruined.”

Jay’s hands find your hips and he yanks you back, ass up, cock dangling humiliatingly in the cold. You feel his cock tease your hole, circling it, taunting and degrading. “Here it comes,” he coldly laughs, and then he moves, slowly at first. He stretches you in an agonizing pace, pausing to let you feel the burn, the intrusion, before slamming in hard. 

It’s massive, filling you beyond any preparation, pain searing as he buries himself balls-deep in brutal thrusts. You choke on a scream, sound lodged in your throat, held back by the sheer surprise.

His cock pulses as your walls clench involuntarily. “So fucking tight,” he groans, savoring how your body adjusts to him. “Sucking me right in. Virgin, huh? Shit, you’re mine now.”

Jay thrusts deep and slow at first, bed frame creaking softly. But he picks up speed in no time, practically slamming against the wall. The slow heat bubbles beneath the pain, your cock leaking a shameful puddle onto the mattress, some pleasure sputtering in the agony despite you fighting against it. “Look at you taking it like a whore, been dreaming of this for so long.”

Fuck Jay. His vape-stink breath, his liquor-soaked arrogance, and his invincible throne. Tell anyone about this and they’d doubt you, or he’d ruin you worse. But Jake is here, you repeat to yourself. Jake, who chose to join your pair as your class was odd-numbered. Jake who’s like a golden retriever, always smiling, always energetic, time always spent on studying and nothing else. One of the very few who could stand against Jay.

Yet, to quote some, sometimes the tame ones suppress worse demons.

Jay grabs your hair in a fist, yanking your head back as his other hand delivers a sharp slap to your face. He grimly laughs as he continues pounding, tilting your head to the man stirring across the room.

Jake’s movements are sluggish as he blinks awake. His face scrunches in the dim light, confusion evident before he understands the scene before him—your ass up, Jay owning you with his fucking, air thick with sweat and sex. His eyes widen, a flicker of shock crossing his face, and he sits up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of hand as if to wake from a dream. But his hand hovers near his crotch, hesitating.

“Just gonna watch or you joining?” Jay taunts. He smacks your ass again, slamming your head back to the pillow beneath your face, muffling your cries. “C’mon, Jake,” he adds, “don’t be a pussy now. You knew this was coming.”

You hear footsteps, then a sinking weight on Jay’s bed. “Man,” Jake whispers, “I… I didn’t think it’d be like this. You sure he’s okay with it?”

Your stomach twists as the sinking realiztion dawns—Jake’s in on it? You try your hardest to keep your eyes open, desperate to understand the situation. “Jake,” you rasp, voice raw, eyes on level with Jake’s growing bulge, a wet spot darkening the front. “Please.” You don’t even know anymore if it’s a call for help or an invitation.

Jake’s hands decide to cradle your face and your eyes meet his, and for a moment he freezes, expression softening. “Shit, okay,” he mutters. “Take it off for me?” he asks, almost pleading, a sick contrast to Jay snarling behind you as he continues to fuck you relentlessly.

Your hands tremble, thighs quaking, but you reach for Jake’s sweatpants, fingers fumbling. Jake pulls your hands to his waist, a smile on his face as he helps you tug it down. His cock springs free—hairless, veins bulging faintly, shorter but thicker than Jay’s, precum beading at the tip. You inhale as you take it in your mouth, the salty taste hitting as it slides past your lips. A hand settles in your hair, combing it gently amidst the chaos. 

“Good boy,” Jake murmurs as you jerk the base of his dick with your hand, drool spilling down your chin. “Wanna fuck your throat,” he says, voice sickeningly sweet. “Can I?” His eyes search yours, a last flicker of doubt lingering, but you’re too far gone to refuse, nodding slowly as Jake tightens his grip on your head.

You gag as his cock reaches the back of your throat, spit beginning to bubble at the corners of your mouth. He pauses, thumb wiping your tears so tenderly. “You’re doing so well, babe,” he soothes, as he pushes past with a slow and steady thrust. “You’re so good at this,” he heaves, hips rocking to an even rhythm that offsets Jay’s pace.

“What a fucking softie,” Jay mocks, spitting on your back and smearing it. “You love it like that, slut?” he sneers. “Say you love it, you fucking slut.”

You choke on the words, muffled by the cock lodged in your throat. “I love it,” you think you screamed, but the sound is barely heard against the moaning and groaning, the filthy squelch of you being defiled.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jake murmurs, a twisted comfort as he slides even deeper down your throat. “You’re doing this for me, yeah? My good boy.”

Jay’s brutality breaks you, yet Jake’s gentleness keeps you bound. He pauses, pulls out, but leaves his cock hanging on your tongue. He brushes a strand of hair fom your face. “You don’t hate me, do you?” he asks, waiting for an answer as you catch your breath.

“I don’t know,” you slur, only for Jay to roughly thrust forward, jolting you back into sucking Jake’s cock.

“Gonna cum, gonna fill this hole up,” Jay growls, he leans over you, chest slick with sweat against your back. His thrusts turn erratic, each one a deeper plunge. “Take it all, you slut,” he snarls, slamming in one last time to unload with a guttural groan. Thick spurts flood your ass as he grinds through it, the excess dripping down your thighs in a shameful trickle. Your body betrays you, shuddering as your cock spurts in tandem with him.

Jay pulls out, cum and lube oozing from your hole. He smacks it one last time. “Fucking mine,” he pants, collapsing beside you with a triumphant smirk.

Jake nudges Jay aside. “My turn,” he says, rolling you onto your back with a careful motion. He spreads your legs, fingers brushing your cum-filled hole as he positions himself. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, holding your gaze as he slides in. There is no resistance to be found, your body and soul already spent. “Relax,” he soothes, leaning down to kiss you on the forehead as he begins to rock into you unhurriedly.

“Jake,” you whimper. His lips graze yours, a rare intimacy that pulls your presence back in.

“I’ve got you, I’m not like Jay,” he whispers. His lips trail down your neck with soft pecks, as if trying to heal the bruises Jay left. “I know you didn’t want it this rough, but you’re so tough, taking us both like this.”

Jake leans back, hands sliding across your torso, smearing sweat and cum along the way. He ends on your cock, playing with the cum on the tip with his thumb as you squirm in oversensitivity, trying to wake it up from its limp state.

“You don’t hate me, right?” he repeats the question, manipulative eyes pleading.

“I trusted—” you start, voice cracking, but he thrusts deeper, a purposeful push to cut you off.

“I’m here to soften the blow,” he insists, tone firm as he holds your eyes. “I’m different, babe. Tell me you feel it,” he says, languidly stroking your cock to his pace.

“I… feel it,” you mutter, broken and reluctant, feeling yourself approaching another forced climax.

Jay watches from beside you, propped on an elbow, grinning as he strokes himself. “Fucked him stupid,” he laughs, “got him so hooked.” He reaches over, pinching and twisting your nipple until you gasp.

“Shut up,” you rasp, but Jake’s hand turns your face to him.

“Ignore him,” he says. “I’m better, aren’t I? Tell me.” Jake’s gentle voice doesn’t make sense in this situation. Your cock being abused, your hole dripping with cum, his cock owning you with a sweet rhythm as he chases his release—is Jake really any better?

“Please,” he adds, voice faltering, “tell me you don’t hate me for this.”

“I don’t,” you whisper.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” he groans, stroking you harder. “Gonna cum, gonna fill you up too.”

With a shuddering cry, he slams into you, his cum mixing with Jay’s, leaking out and pooling beneath you. Your body arches, a pathetic spurt of cum dribbling from you as you collapse, the room falling into a heavy, exhausted silence. The lamp flickers off, your breathing slowing down back to normal. Before you totally drift off to sleep once again, you feel a kiss to your temple.

—

It wasn’t a dream. Your ass stings with each move you make, the sheets beneath you are tangled and staff, crusted with dried cum and sweat. Despite the bruises and scratches, your body is clean, just the ache of the night prior remaining. You’re still in Jay’s bed, naked body now pressed close to Jake, arm draped over your waist, breath hot against your neck. Jay has moved to the spare mattress, sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his face as he snores.

Jake wakes up first, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he squints at you. “Morning, cutie,” he murmurs, voice husky. 

Jay stirs next, rolling onto his side. “Fuck,” he grumbles, “too early for this shit.” His eyes find you, smirking as he takes in your disheveled and marked body. “Look at you fucked out. Too hot.”

You ease yourself up to sit against the headboard, wincing as pain shoots through your back. Jake notices, a hand reaching out to your wrist. “Take it easy, yeah?”

“I’m good,” you yawn as you stretch your arms overhead, a few bones cracking. “Almost forgot it, you know? That whole threesome thing you pitched. Figured you were too tired to bother after all the stress.” A faint smirk tugs at your lips as you glance between them.

Jay chuckles, standing with a stretch as well, bare torso flexing under the sunlight. “Well, you said you wanted to make the project fun,” he says, “said you wanted to be surprised.” He steps closer to the bed, grinning. “Breakfast? I’m starving.”

Jake pulls you closer, resting his head on your lap. He squints up at Jay and teases, “Yeah, you cook something up while we cuddle here.”

Jay snorts, “How about you clean up the mess? We’re gonna have to burn these sheets.”

“Sorry,” Jake murmurs, tracing the scratches on your thighs. “We were too rough.”

“It’s okay,” you say, patting Jake’s head. “Your puppy eyes won me then and now.”

“You’re gonna make me vomit, I swear,” Jay groans, rolling his eyes as heads for the door. “Pancakes sound good?”

You nod, leaning your head against the headboard lazily. “Greasy and sticky sweet please.”

“Like us last night, yeah?”

“Ugh, gross.”

author’s note: belated april fools y’all ;3

— moriwood.

[michael-mika]

Based off this scene:

Inspired by this post