#the tags of my post that was supposed to be about my birthday was not where I expected to unpack my shitty experiences with past birthdays

[piper-2244]

the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

… 

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 

You blush, unable to respond. 

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.” 

Another one falls. 

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...

[heibon-hiroo]

Funny green guy we meet again

[tj-crochets]

My birthday is coming up, and every year for my birthday* I try to make a thing just because I want to but this year I am not sure what I want to make. Like, zero ideas. Well, I mean I always have ideas, but none that appeal more than others? I'm not sure if I should ask for suggestions or just make a series of polls leading up to my birthday to narrow it down, what do you think? *within a few weeks of my birthday, I am bad at time

[trix-or-treatz]

IT'S HER DAY!!!!

[arklay]

a lesson in temperance.

pairing: diana afanasyeva x alex wesker words: 6.5k warnings: nsfw, mild degradation [read on ao3]

Vanilla and orange blossom. So heady, so sweet, as it swam out of the bathroom and filled the air surrounding Alex. She couldn’t help but breathe it in, wishing to be closer to the cause, to really smell all that lived on her partner’s skin; where jasmine thrived on her neck, down her chest and to her wrists, laced with gardenia and sandalwood.

Alex hummed to herself, directing her mind back on task when the loud whir of the hairdryer ripped her from her thoughts. She leaned down and plucked a small box from the back of her bedside drawer.

Wrapped in a pale blue silk ribbon, the little black box contained a surprise for only one other set of eyes to see, and that made her shiver in anticipation. She could already imagine the look she would receive. An amused laugh, or a pointed glare. Perhaps both. And that only served to encourage her plan for the day.

In only a few strides she stood before the bathroom, eyes landing on Diana clad only in a towel with the cause of that incessant noise in one hand and a comically large round brush in the other. So focused she was in tackling the thick, dark strands, it was as if Alex didn’t exist. Only when the blonde chuckled, low and velvety, did her eyes dart over to the doorway, and not a second later, the press of a button granted them silence.

Diana lowered the hairdryer and brush, discarding them on the counter as her eyes roamed over Alex. From the smug smirk painted on red lips, to the small box cradled in adorned fingers, she could only wonder what her partner was up to this time.

“Do I want to know what that is?” she asked, the jest hardly hiding the curiosity that clung to it.

Alex let out another rich, breathy sound, rounding the apples of her cheeks. The raised brow and inquisitive stare was already a reward in and of itself for her. But not enough.

She walked into the stifling room – no matter how many times she told Diana to turn on the fan, she never would – and closed the distance between them. Then, her forefinger began a slow, methodical trace of the top edge of the box, drawing Diana’s gaze for but a moment.

“You didn’t really think I would forget about last night, did you?” That earned a dramatic roll of blue eyes, followed by an amused grin. One that deepened the indents on her cheeks so deliciously. But she didn’t speak, only locking her eyes onto Alex’s and letting her continue. “Punishment is in order.”

“Can’t win your forgiveness through your stomach anymore, can I?”

Alex pursed her lips, drawing her brows inward in a look of mock sympathy. Then she lazily shook her head. “No.”

The breakfast she had made her was quite sweet, but it didn’t make up for the fact that Diana had come last night before Alex had given her permission to. She had been far too lenient in the past it seemed, because this behaviour only appeared to continue. Although, it did bring about a warm glow beneath Alex’s breast at how much Diana got off on pleasing her.

With her partner’s attention drawn so close, hanging on in anticipation, Alex closed two fingers around the ribbon to direct her gaze. A gentle pull and it came free. Yet she lingered, grasping the lid and doing no more, and Diana’s eyes raised to meet hers. It was almost desperate, the look in them. How much she wished to know exactly what was in store for her.

She finally opened the box. Letting the lid sit back on her palm, she plucked a bullet-shaped toy from pale blue satin. Diana wet her lips as she stared at the silver between her pinched fingers, and Alex turned it slightly. As if to show her more. As if Diana wasn’t already well aware of what it was.

“You, my sweet,” Alex drawled in velvet, smooth enough to make Diana almost drop to her knees right then and there, “are going to wear this all day for me.” At the flutter of dark lashes over half-lidded eyes, she leaned in closer and lowered her voice even more. “And… you are not allowed to come.”

The sharp inhale told Alex all she needed to know.

When Diana leaned back on one hip and crossed her arms, it did little to hide the effect she had on her. Even with the teasing smile pulling at her lips, the promise of challenge, arousal warmed porcelain cheeks and reduced blue to barely a thin line around blown pupils.

And yet Diana still raised a brow in defiance. “And if I do?”

Alex let out a heavy sigh. “I asked myself that many times. What should I do if you were to once again disobey me?” She tilted her head slightly to the side, clicking her tongue. “Would I procure a chastity belt, of all things? Would I confiscate all of your toys until further notice?” Diana shifted, opening her mouth as if to protest, but Alex only went on. “Would I have you scrub the place top to bottom? But no. None of that would suffice.” She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale, before releasing. “For a whole month, you will not be permitted to touch me. In any form.”

A loud laugh of disbelief left Diana as she threw her head back. Thinking it a joke was her first mistake; Alex’s eyes narrowed and her jaw set, emphasising the sincerity in her claim. That seemed to do it.

Diana lifted one of her crossed arms and scratched above her lip, looking down her nose as she seemed to be processing the severity of such a punishment. Then, she abruptly extended said arm and held out her hand in acceptance, meeting Alex’s gaze once more. “A month is absurd.”

Never one to back down, her Diana.

Alex let a soft smile pull on her lips, not quite an apology for the past harshness of her tone, and she placed the bullet in her partner’s palm. Her lashes fluttered again at the brush of Alex’s fingertips against her soft skin, but she regained herself just as quickly.

“Well then, you should start being more grateful and less greedy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Diana replied while rolling the bullet up to the tips of her fingers.

One hand brought the silver to her lips, while the other parted her towel, and Alex found herself rather conflicted in where to direct her attention. Ultimately, her gaze settled on Diana’s face when the hand at her hip did no more than rest at the opening she created. Wet, rosy lips parted then ever so slowly closed around the toy. She still held onto the end with her fingertips. Alex watched as her cheeks hollowed while her tongue swirled, and she couldn’t prevent the warmth blooming at her hips even if she tried.

Her gaze wandered from her lips to her jaw, then down the elegant column of her throat. A droplet sat in the dip between her collarbones. Countless others littered her chest, but one took Alex’s attention more than the rest. It rolled down damp skin at a tantalisingly slow pace, until its journey was interrupted by the towel at her breast.

The movement of Diana’s arm brought her back to her senses, though she did find herself wishing to lean in and kiss over the peak that bobbed as Diana swallowed. Or lick the droplets from her skin. But all that followed was her lover’s hand lowering to the part in her towel before she slipped the toy easily inside herself.

Their eyes met again, and Alex offered a pleased smile her way. She all but purred, “Good girl.”

Her own hand disappeared into her pocket, and she pulled out a device not too dissimilar to her phone. One of Diana’s brows quirked at that. It wasn’t the typical remote control she was used to seeing in her past, and little did she know Alex had far more freedom with one such as this.

“I’ll be able to monitor your pleasure at all times with this,” she said, barely flashing the screen her way so Diana could take a look while she ensured the toy was connected. Satisfied, a rather wicked curl pulled at the corner of crimson lips. “Do remember, I will know if you’ve taken it out. And that will warrant further consequences.”

Diana gave her a slow nod, long past accepting what was to come, and opened her mouth to speak, but Alex had already turned on her heel, pocketed the device and left the bathroom. She could only laugh to herself at that, the notion that anything she had to say, or do, was all but irrelevant.

Not even a kiss this morning.

It was already past lunch and Diana had been at the edge of her seat all morning, wondering – waiting for – when Alex would turn the vibrator on. The possibility that she had forgotten about it altogether, swept up in her work, or by some new problem one of the researchers had brought to her attention, was entirely out of the question.

Diana knew the only explanation was that Alex wanted this.

She wanted her to sweat a little. To grow restless. To wait for the other shoe to drop and wish to be free of such suspense. That, in itself, was as much a punishment as what was truly in store for her.

And it worked.

For the third time in this report alone, Diana crossed out what she was in the middle of writing. More like violently scribbled over, in this instance; her pent-up frustration pressed the pen harder and carried the strike over innocent sentences, free of mistakes. Whether it was her cadence, a misspelt word, or merely a letter looking wrong, Diana was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her head.

With a heavy sigh, she freed the paper from her clipboard and crumbled it up into a ball, merely discarding it beside herself. It was ridiculous she was letting this get under her skin so much. Maybe she had been too eager for the challenge, holding herself to such high standards in wanting to prove Alex wrong – that she wouldn’t break from a little toy. But she had not accounted for this.

Diana brought a new sheet before her and slotted it into position. All of a sudden, the toy came to life. Her fingers fell free of the clip, letting it snap, and her mouth hung open of its own accord. The slow, rhythmic pulse was actually relieving.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she sank into her chair, pressing her thighs together on instinct. She would get back to their little game in a moment, but for now… For now, she needed to feel it.

It wasn’t one of her wisest decisions. Her mind wandered back to that morning, to the feeling of Alex’s hot breath on her skin when she whispered in her ear; the way she had purred praise sent a shiver down Diana’s spine, tingling across every nerve and stoking the warmth at its base. A hand lifted, found its way to her chest and simply lay there, fingertips either side of her neck, ghosting over the spot her lover had teased.

The pulse between her legs switched to a soft continuous vibration, pulling her back to the present. A slow exhale escaped parted lips.

If she truly wanted to get through this, she had to find some semblance of focus. There were actual stakes this time around. If that lack of a kiss before work was a taste of what she was in for, for an entire month, she might just lose her mind.

They may have spent long stretches of time away from one another in the past, on opposite ends of the globe, but that would be nothing compared to this. To live with Alex, to see her, and smell her, day in, day out, and not be able to do so much as press against her… To have to sleep beside her and stop their legs from brushing, pass her in the bathroom or the kitchen and not catch her hand or lean in for a kiss. That was torture.

She could get through this stupid little test. Or else a pillow wall may have to be built. Even worse, she would sleep on the couch and avoid her partner until one of them cracked.

Deep breaths, Diana. Slow, deep breaths.

It was much easier to try and ignore the toy nestled inside her with this setting. Diana was determined to show Alex that not only could she control herself, but she would excel in her work while at it. The discarded report was rewritten and completed, with not a flaw in sight. Not even the couple of times Alex had switched back to the gentle pulsing could put an end to that. She proofread it, not once, but twice, and analysed her next set of data from another experiment. It was, in all honesty, a rather remarkable motivator. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to keep her composure.

Or so she thought.

Diana swivelled around in her chair to reach for the stack of papers on the bench behind her when the toy doubled in speed, causing her to jolt in her seat. A breathy little chuckle escaped her, a result of such surprise. Then she blew out a long exhale, longing for composure. Warmth bloomed deep within her core, and she had to fight the urge to let her eyes fall shut. Doing so would only sabotage herself, and amuse Alex in the process.

And she really wasn’t about to let that happen. Diana glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, knowing full well that Alex was watching her every move. She picked up the stack of papers, turned right around, and dumped them on her desk rather unceremoniously.

In direct response, the toy picked up speed again. Her thighs clenched together as she shifted in her seat, and that only made it worse; the bullet pressed right up against that sweet spot within her. No longer a benign teasing, the buzzing was insistent. Relentless. Diana meant to reach for the edge of her desk to steady herself, but shaky hands fumbled and found knees instead. It felt as if someone had lit a fire under her skin, making her flush head to toe. Somehow, she forgot how easily these things could send her into such a state.

She needed to do something, anything, to distract herself from the feeling. Focusing her leaden gaze on her hands, she shifted them slightly higher, settling firmly on her thighs for better leverage. Then she sunk her nails into nylon-clad flesh.

Mistake. That was a mistake.

Sparks shot up her thighs and to her hips, joining the vibrations, and she almost doubled over. What in the world possessed her to do such an idiotic thing? Of course the sting of her nails would only fuel her pleasure, not offer the distracting sensation she’d intended; she was better off stubbing a toe.

Her heart had only quickened, pounding at its cage as if begging her to let the pleasure wash over her. But she wasn’t going to give in. To do so would grant Alex the satisfaction she was looking for. In Diana’s mind, the consequence of her succumbing to her desires wouldn’t benefit Alex in any way either. A whole month without being loved on? What a miserable rule to set for oneself. But Diana knew it was merely a slight against her; she was tactile with lovers, it wasn’t her fault. A hand on a hip when she passed by, on an arm when she spoke. It was the little things Alex knew she could catch her on.

Diana dropped her hands to her sides and let her head fall back against the headrest of her chair. It was time for a different approach. She stared up at the ceiling and tried to focus on counting the number of metal bars making up the ventilation panels. It shouldn’t have been difficult, it was a simple task, yet she lost count and had to start over multiple times; the buzz of the fluorescent lights behind her kept stealing her attention, telling her to pay mind to the one between her legs.

She may have underestimated her capacity for restraint.

As though taking pity on her plight, the toy changed patterns once more. Back to that soft, sweet pulsing. It was so jarring compared to the torment she just endured, Diana couldn’t help the grin that stretched across her face as she buried her head in her hands.

Then the phone started to ring.

Could she not catch even one moment of peace today? Diana raised her head enough to catch sight of the phone on her desk, simply staring at the offending device and watching the light blink as someone tried to reach her. She let it ring.

The pulse between her legs sped up, informing her who was on the line, and she rolled her eyes much too dramatically. Reaching forward at the last possible moment, she lifted the receiver off the hook and brought it to her ear. “This is Diana speaking.”

A low chuckle sounded on the other end, stoking embers. “What’s the matter, darling? You sound quite frustrated.”

“Oh, shut up,” Diana replied indignantly. She secured the handset on her shoulder, holding it with her cheek, and gathered the papers still sitting on her desk. Needing to keep her hands occupied, lest they wander elsewhere with that voice in her ear. “I’m busy. Is there something you wanted?”

Alex sighed, and Diana heard a loud bang from somewhere behind her, followed by an unsteady rattle, like metal-on-metal. A trolley being wheeled off, most likely. Alex cleared her throat once it was almost out of earshot. “You’re needed in the Upper Spire.”

For what possible reason? The highest point of the Monument was still under construction; there was nothing of value up there that would require her assistance. Unless Alex was going to turn around and demand she pick up a toolbox and get to work. They both knew that was never going to happen.

Diana took hold of the phone again, then switched it over to the other ear. “Did I not just tell you that I am in the middle of something?”

“It wasn’t a request,” Alex bit back. Her voice slipped into one that radiated sheer power; it could so easily bring someone to their knees. It had, many times for Diana, as well-acquainted as she was with such a tone in their bedroom. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck bristled with the shiver that coursed through her, all while the toy still pulsed within. “Now, hurry along. You can finish sorting your paperwork later.”

The little mocking remark she threw in there managed to break Diana free of her spell. She thought it only fair to respond in kind. “Yes, ma’am.”

Without waiting for any further comment, she lowered the phone from her ear and moved to hang up. But again, she was stopped in her tracks.

“Diana,” Alex called, beckoning her to crawl right back to her. And she did, bringing the handset up to its former position in a rather lazy fashion. “Watch your tone.”

With not even a second to possibly respond, Diana was met with a click then nothing more. Dead air. It was at times like this she was convinced she had fallen madly in love with the Devil herself. Though she was not without mercy it would seem; the vibrator lowered back down to that soft, persistent hum and brought with it relief.

The journey to the Upper Spire wasn’t necessarily a long one from where she worked – if she discounted the elevator ride, that is. But Diana would still need to brave a rather lengthy flight of stairs. In frustration, she threw her head back against her headrest a couple of times, then abruptly stood. The papers remained on her desk, a filing cabinet drawer was left ajar, only her handbag was forcibly removed and the door locked behind her.

Once she was but a few steps down the hall, the toy sped up again. It wasn’t unbearable, no, but it did challenge her to keep her balance as she walked. One wrong shift of her hips and she might just send the bullet pressing against a spot that would not hold back from making her legs tremble. That didn’t change the fact that she could already feel a bead of sweat threatening to roll down her back. 

Diana let her feet carry her towards her destination, the world around her fading away in a blur of bright lights and dull greys as she passed through winding walkways and platforms, not even registering how many turns she’d made. All her focus was on putting one foot in front of the other and hoping she’d end up where she needed to be. And trying desperately to ignore the constant vibration in her hips.

It felt so much louder now and she wasn’t sure that was possible. The hissing of doors sliding open for her, the humming and beeping of machinery, the clicking of her heels with each stride was all but amplified by the pounding in her ears, resounding from the toy in her core. Was it always this noisy? Every time there was a new sound thrown into the mix, it sent her heart racing, so fast she could feel it in her fingertips. She truly thought walking was going to be much easier to deal with than sitting in her lab, but this was a new type of hell.

Then there was the case of the stairs.

Deep breaths, Diana reminded herself from where she stood on the landing. She could do this. The effort of her journey left her flushed and weary, but not any less determined to reach her goal. The elevator was so close she could see it, sitting in the centre of the open room; her only obstacle was but a flight of stairs.

She reached out and laid a hand on the railing, fumbling as the cool metal sent another shock through her system. Diana clenched her teeth and held it firmer, steadying herself before she could topple over. Then she began her descent.

One step at a time. That’s all there was to it, no different than any other day. She just had to get out of her head, focus on where her feet landed, and not on that dogged assault on her nerves. With another shaky breath, Diana lowered her eyes to make sure she didn’t miss a step with how unsteady she was, how heavy her legs felt with each footfall. The last thing she needed was to slip and make a fool of herself.

If she did fall, she hoped it would bring about a swift end and let her escape this torment.

Halfway down the stairs, a flicker of movement danced at the corner of Diana’s eye. Her gaze darted over to follow the blur over the railing only to see Stuart, Alex’s loyal little servant, rounding the side of the staircase.

Don’t come this way, she pleaded, voiceless, hoping he wouldn’t notice her and simply carry on with his day. The last thing she needed was to speak to anyone in this state.

But Stuart, the ever so irritating Stuart, sporting his finely-tailored suit and rectangular rimless glasses, seemed to be heading right where she had come from. Luckily, he seemed to be in a hurry, taking two steps at a time, so he shouldn’t bother her for long. But she knew him well enough. The man could talk up a storm if you let him. Just keep going.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there,” he exclaimed, followed by a slight bow of his head. The toy ramped up in intensity and stole the breath from Diana’s lungs. To try and stifle a whimper, she bit down on her lip hard enough she thought she might draw blood, and Stuart paused. He let his eyes scan over her, from her face down to her white-knuckled grip on the railing. “Are you alright, Dr. Afa—”

“Fine,” Diana snapped. She wasn’t even able to take a full breath, her words coming out rushed. “I’m fine. Thank you, Stewart.”

She left him standing there, bewildered, as her need to get as far away from him as possible carried her down the rest of the dreadful staircase unharmed. She didn’t know if he’d heard the buzzing of the toy, she hadn’t bothered to take in his expression at all, really. Maybe she was just imagining the vibrator louder than it actually was, or maybe the thrumming of machinery echoing off the endlessly tall walls of the tower saved her an awkward conversation.

The walk to the elevator wasn’t far once she hopped off that final step. The doors opened automatically for her upon her approach and she practically fell into the safe haven of steel.

With a slam of a fist against a button, she was off. Diana let herself sink against the wall, dropping her bag from her shoulder and resting trembling hands on her knees. She couldn’t even get a moment of reprieve; the insistent teasing between her legs wouldn’t subside any time soon.

The way warmth built in her core, radiating across her hips and threatening to rush down her legs to curl her toes, had her biting back a moan. She took slow, deep breaths, trying to focus on calming her heart as opposed to how blissful the waves of pleasure felt. She couldn’t let herself unravel. Not here, not now.

Diana gripped the handrail beside her and turned, resting the side of her head against the wall. The coil in her belly only wound tighter, and she cursed Alex. Cursed her for playing with her like this, for watching her struggle on every camera she passed, for pressing all those stupid little buttons that left her shaking and longing for air. But truly, she cursed herself; she was the only one to blame. Why did she ever agree to this?

She needed to breathe.

With each slow inhale, and exhale, the twist in her belly began to recede, pulling her from the haze. It did nothing, however, for the shake of her hands, the heavy feeling in her limbs, or how aware she was of her blouse brushing against her chest with each rise and fall.

It was the elevator’s turn to catch her cursing. Just as she was about to question how long it was taking to reach the Upper Spire, the lift jerked and shuddered, before coming to a halt.

“Oh, fuck,” Diana whispered under her breath. The rumble that sent through her did nothing to help the state she was in.

She aimlessly reached around for her bag, not wanting to look down in fear she might lose her balance. Finding leather under her palm, she hoisted it up and onto her shoulder. She would be fine. Her hips ached as she lifted herself to stand up straight, using the handrail as leverage. One last rest against the wall, one last moment, then she would be on her way. Then she would face Alex and try not to fall apart at her feet.

Just beyond another walkway, then she could hopefully sit again. Somehow that was much easier to handle.

The clicking of her heels was a welcome sound, distracting her from the heat simmering in her belly. She didn’t dare look over the edge of the railing along the walkway either – another thing she wished to push to the back of her mind; she was so high up, one wrong step and that was the end of her.

A foolish thing to think about given what she was dealing with right now.

After a short walk, the hiss of a door granted her access to the area Alex had been fussing over for months. Wanting to get it perfect, she said.

Odd, considering the large room Diana entered was completely bare. And dark. The only thing she could make out was maybe some type of stand near the far end of the room. Alex hadn’t exactly divulged what she was planning to do up here, other than having her own personal laboratory.

Off to the side, cool white light emanated from an open door. The only clue she had to go on as to Alex’s whereabouts. She ventured forth, then, as another set of stairs came into view, audibly groaned.

After today she might just develop a personal vendetta against staircases.

The stairwell was interesting, to say the least. The overhead light did not offer much in way of brightening the room, but rather, it was the individual strips set into each step, along with the columns in the corners of the room. Not four, as expected, but rather six. What really caught her attention though was the latticework in the centre of the stairs, much like that of the supports surrounding the elevator.

Diana steeled herself and, once again, focused on putting one foot in front of the other, watching her feet the entire way up the two flights of stairs. It wasn’t any easier than her trip to the lift, but she couldn’t allow herself a moment to falter. Even as the toy shifted with each step, the railing remained her lifeline.

Once she reached the landing, the door slid open for her before she even had a chance to catch her breath. This time, revealing a sparsely furnished bedroom. But Diana did not care much to look around; her eyes settled on the source of her anguish. Sitting on a black leather couch was Alex, dressed in white and gold, with wine red at her feet. Her attention was on the wall opposite her, and Diana glanced over to see a large screen, filled with camera feeds. That didn’t surprise her in the slightest.

Alex looked toward the door, and a smirk threatened to pull at the corner of her lips. She stood, turning the monitor off with a remote in the process, before tossing it aside. “Ah, there you are.”

As if a puppet on a string, not quite in control of her own limbs, Diana made her way over to Alex. Whenever she was near, there was a certain pull to her, always drawing Diana in. The need to hold her, to touch her in some way and breathe her in, was a constant. That is why she couldn’t afford to misbehave this time around; the stakes were too high. Or else, she would’ve chased her release just to spite her lover and get a rise.

Her handbag was taken from her by cold, gentle hands, discarded on the coffee table at her side, while Alex’s eyes were busy slowly scanning over her form. She hummed. “Stuart just called. He was quite concerned, honestly. Said you looked rather unwell.”

Diana glared up at her. She wasn’t that much taller than her, and yet she felt larger than life itself. The way she spoke only added to that; there was no denying the smug air that clung to each of her words. She was so proud of herself for humiliating Diana in such a way, making her look a fool in front of her staff when she was only ever composed.

“Yes, well, I wonder why,” she said through clenched teeth.

A melodic little laugh spilled from her partner’s lips and tugged at her heart. “Look at you… So cute when you’re all riled up.”

Diana held her gaze, wanting so desperately to remain annoyed with her. To show her she wasn’t amused with her antics. But her body betrayed her, unable to focus on such trivial things with a more pressing matter between her legs. Lips pulled in a warm smile, one she tried and failed to hide, and the heat in her hips rushed up to her chest.

Alex never took her eyes off of hers, not helping in the slightest. There was so much warmth in those icy blues of hers it almost made Diana dizzy. She had to be the first to look away.

Letting her gaze wander around the clearly unfinished room, she cleared her throat. Well aware of the fact that Alex was still staring at her. “What was it you needed me for?”

“Oh, it’s not ready yet,” she said, sounding almost disinterested, and Diana’s head snapped to look back at her. Alex gestured vaguely at her side with a sigh. “It won’t be for many months yet. I still need all of my equipment brought up here, and well… It is looking rather drab, as you can see.”

“You’re telling me I walked all of those stairs, and took the longest elevator ride of my life, for nothing?!”

“Nothing?” Alex brought a hand to her chest in mock outrage, drawing her brows in a frown. “Did you not wish to see me?”

Of course she wished to see her. She always wished to see her. One of the many side effects of having found your match. But in Diana’s current state, that had been the least of her concerns. It was near impossible to stave off the longing in her core with her so near.

Pent-up frustration trickled over and dripped from every word. “I cannot believe you.”

Diana brought her hands up to cover her face, the tips of her fingers carving along the curve of her brow bone. Her skin was so hot, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was flushed pink up to her ears. The toy sitting pretty inside her hummed away, more of an annoyance than anything at this point. Or maybe she was just annoyed, full stop. But she was so high-strung, she couldn’t deal with these little games anymore.

A shaky breath left parted lips, then a soft tsk reached her ears.

The intoxicating smell of Alex’s perfume swept over her senses before touch even registered. Woody, spiced, rich with amber and musk – a hint of plum lingering. Diana couldn’t help herself but lean into her lover’s touch, to drink in all that flowed from her wrist. Fingertips danced across her temple, causing her hands to fall from her face as she looked up at Alex again. Her head was tilted ever so slightly as her eyes followed the path she traced along Diana’s hairline.

“I’m impressed,” Alex admitted, then tucked a strand behind Diana’s ear. “I thought for certain, in the lift, away from all but my eyes to see, you would”—her fingers trailed down the side of her neck—“take care of yourself.”

Her touch was exhilarating, addicting even, sending a pleasant shiver down Diana’s spine to reignite the pleasure. When her fingers reversed the motion, letting nails scrape along her skin, her legs almost buckled beneath her.

Then Alex cupped her cheek. She leaned in and whispered against Diana’s lips, “You’ve done so well. But can you keep it up?”

Too entranced, Diana had missed when Alex pulled the remote from her pocket with her other hand. A quick tap and the toy sped up even more, knocking the air from her lungs. This had to be the highest setting; there was no way it could get any worse than this. Warmth rushed from deep within her core, over her hips and up into her chest. It was stifling.

There was nowhere she could grasp onto for support now, save for the woman before her. Her hands found Alex’s sides, gripping her blazer before she could even think about what she’d done. But Alex didn’t seem to mind. It was when she hung her head that Alex suddenly gripped her chin, tilting it back with force to look into her eyes.

“Do you think you can last?” She all but purred, her breath hot on parted lips. Diana was well and truly at her mercy now; waves of pleasure rolled over her, pulling her from her surroundings in a lust-addled haze. Yet she still managed to lazily nod in her grip.

Alex hummed then slotted a thigh between trembling legs, causing a soft whimper to spill from Diana’s lips. Though it offered support, it pressed too sweet, too deliciously. She didn’t know how long she could fight off her oncoming climax at this rate.

“Really? The greedy little slut you are…” She applied more pressure with her thigh, drawing a choked sob. “You’re not going to come?”

“No,” Diana said with firmness she didn’t even know she could muster, even if it wavered in the end.

The chuckle that followed barely registered. Her heart was beating so loud she could hear it in her ears, feel it throughout her entire body. It drowned out every other noise. The grin that pulled on crimson lips as Alex gripped her chin even harder sent molten sparks across her skin. The coil in her belly wound impossibly tight, begging for release, and it hurt. Oh, it hurt.

Diana shuddered in her lover’s arms, eyes fluttering shut. The toy continued its relentless pace against that sweet spot within her, a low whine built in her throat. She didn’t know how much longer she could handle of this. She blew out a long exhale, trying to halt her panting, but her breaths only came faster.

Stars began to form behind her eyes, signalling her impending release, and she couldn’t even fight it anymore.

Then it stopped. The buzzing stopped altogether. So abrupt, it drew a loud gasp and she fell against Alex. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, clouding her vision even further, and she had no idea whether she was crying from relief or frustration. She was so close, teetering right on the edge, only to have it ripped away from her.

“Shh,” Alex shushed her, then wrapped her arms around Diana. She carefully lowered her onto the couch, pressed up against her side. Then she smoothed back her hair. “Very good, my sweet girl. Have a rest.”

Diana buried her face in the crook of Alex’s neck, trying desperately to calm her breathing. Despite the toy no longer teasing, the throbbing between her legs persisted. Longing for more.

She had no doubt Alex knew how close she had gotten to failing, to suffering the consequences. But the absence of any scolding let her melt against her partner, wrapping her arm around her waist and taking in that sweet scent of hers once more. If this was the last time she was to hold her for a month, she wished to savour every second of it.

A soft kiss was pressed to the top of her head, yet the words that followed held no semblance of such tenderness.

“Do not think this means you’re forgiven. You still have the rest of the day ahead of you.”

[kyouka-supremacy]

(๑˃‌﹏˂‌)

[thatonecrookedsmile]

["So what can you expect in the coming months?"] ["…you never know!"] ["He’s always watching me..."] ["-I saw Mister Drew the other day…was meeting with that Connor fellow, holding some papers."] ["I think they saw me looking though…"] ["Just too many secrets being cooked up in the kitchen!"] ["If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was magic there."] ["A well calculated understanding between creation-"] ["-big things are coming!"] ["-and creator."] ["Massive things!"] ["That smile…"] ["..you just learn to go with it."] ["He’s always watching me..."] ["You just watch…"] ["I’ve got a good feeling something great is going to happen…”]

...

…How very interesting,such… knowledge.

{A message from Wilson Arch}

-----

Yoooo, guess who is having a birthday today. Me,obviously. :D

Oh, and Wilson too, I guess. If you wanna be THAT guy.

Remember when this video came out there were people who heard the voice at the end and thought the voice was either Sammy or the Ink Demon? Man, those were the days. However with all due respect, I'm glad neither case was right in the end lol.

On this day 5 years ago, "Unknown - April 14th" was posted on YouTube, which means it's been 5 damn years since we first heard from Wilson...

man, what a damn BABY MAN, am i right folks

It's interesting to think that even though it's been 5 years, we've only known who Wilson really is for 2 years now (or more appropriately, 1 year and 5 months of those 5 years). Of course, now, after BATDR was released, we know who he is and what his place is in the Bendy universe. But between April 1, 2019 and November 1, 2022, all we knew about him was that he…existed. He was someone - someone bad apparently - who sounded old and who would have some relevance in the plot of Dark Revival. And that's it. We had no name, no appearance, nothing. He was someone, but we didn't know who.

It's no wonder he was only referred to as "Unknown" by fans during these 3 and a half years.

In the end, I would say that this drawing is a mix of 2 things. The first being the result of an idea I've had for a while, which is basically making a drawing in relation to the original video/"unknown" tape, but this time with Wilson, since now we know it was recorded by him. Plus it's been 5 years since the original upload,5 years of Wilson. I think this would be the perfect time to do this.

And second, a strange kind of redux/homage/"final chapter" in this kind of "collection" of drawings I did between 2019 and 2022 all based on the idea of "the unknown weirdo from BATDR saying How Very Interesting Such Knowledge" and so on. All of them having other characters in mind in the role of the Unknown. And now, here I am, redoing this idea again, only with The Man Himself this time. The real Unknown. Now as the Known, so to speak.

Going back to what I said before, you can see this drawing as a kind of farewell to this particular idea that I've kind of repeated over the years, as I've now done it again only with Wilson this time. (Does this mean I'll never draw this concept/line of thought again? I mean, I assume so. But there's no guarantee I can't make something similar again down the line. Who knows what the future holds. We will see what happens in the next 5 years.)

But,yeah. 5 years of Such Knowledge™.

Have a good April Fools' Day.

(Also, there are still a few hours until the day ends where I live, so for me it's still April 1st, so yeah, this still counts)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Baby boy brother birthday photos from last year that I just realized I never uploaded!

[the-art-cave]

I was just feeling absolutely devastated about a month ago and couldn't do anything with myself because distractions wouldn't work, so I tried to draw the specific feeling I was experiencing at the time. It isn't even meant to be good or well thought out, it was just a "draw-whatever-I-can" sort of situation and this was the product. That is all

[scarletwitch1918]

Today was the second birthday this year of a friend that I thought I was really close with that i didn’t get invited to

[poptartmochi]

feeling incredibly btw tonite:]

[smol-skijumping-fan]

Ooooh, this is bad, team Poland hired papa Stoeckl :O It's not good cause I don't like things changing, Stoeckl was The Norwegian to me, despite not being Norwegian, but he was always with team Norge! At least as far as I remember.

I haven't watched ski jumping in a while but it looks like things are changing. I wonder what will happen to Norwegians then, how will they do with a new guy who isn't Stoeckl. I only heard the Polish part of the news I need to look up Norwegian for context.

[unma]

So I've calmed down. After today's events I find myself even more vindicated in my hatred for my family, but that's neither here nor there. I'm not trying to vent so often on this blog (feels too oversharey), so instead I'll let y'all know that my birthday is in two weeks! Specifically the 24th. So that's cool.

[foxxsong]

It's so hard to think about anything other than what happened right now. Every stray thought, every pause in what I'm doing, every time I've woken up all week... And the worst part, for me, is that I don't even feel like I have the right to be as upset as I am. Like I haven't done enough or am not close enough, as if that's somehow supposed to mean that I can't be distraught about something so horrific even if I didn't have a connection to the people it happened to - no matter how tenuous.

[sincerelyneo]

juno | l.hc

“one of me is cute, but two though…?”

💿now playing: juno by sabrina carpenter

❯ summary: Kids were never really something you thought about. But then you saw your sexy as fuck boyfriend playing uncle and now you can't stop thinking about giving him a baby of his own. What can you say...your hormones are high.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, established relationship

❯ words: 2.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don't do this!), swearing, breeding and pregnancy kink, possessiveness, dirty talk, begging, praise, creampie, slight angst not really idk, fluff, reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just the reader getting baby fever from seeing hyuck with kids (very real el oh el.)

an: i know this is like my third haechan post in a week, but i literally don’t care. sue me x

You didn’t want kids. Well, that’s not true. You were indifferent to kids. 

That was until you saw your boyfriend with them. You didn’t think you could be more attracted to him, but then he had to go and check off the "great with kids" box. Maybe it’s just his playful side, but Lee Donghyuck is just so good with them.

And being forced to attend his niece’s first birthday party made you realise it. Honestly, you’d never given much thought to the idea of kids—cute yes, ready to give up endless nights of sleep, no. 

But the minute after you walked through his childhood family home and were done greeting his parents and siblings, a swarm of kids ran at him, hugging his legs and stomach. And he just melted into them, so gentle and excited. It was cute and made you smile. 

From then it was him letting his oldest niece cover his tanned cheeks in blush and stickers, to tossing a ball with his nephew after he announced he made the basketball team—and don’t even get started on him poking the chubby cheeks of his youngest niece, her soft giggles filling the backyard of the party. 

It was like he was in his element—soft, loving, and completely at ease. And even though his nieces and nephews had other uncles and aunts, they’d always say Uncle Hyuck was their favourite—even if they weren’t supposed to.

You watch him from the patio door in the kitchen, overhearing him tell his dad he’s “too young to be having the adult conversations,” which was really code for ‘let me play with the kids.’ 

Running around, telling jokes, creating games. It had your stomach turning and—were your heart strings being pulled? Seeing this absolute perfect man, so caring and playful, living just to make those little ones laugh and smile, had you seriously considering the sleepless nights that might come with having some of your own.

Wait. 

“He’s good with them, huh?”

You jolt, turning to see Hyuck’s sister standing behind you.

“Uh... yeah, I guess so,” you shrug. She steps beside you, and the two of you stand there, watching your boyfriend bounce his niece in his arms, soothing her gently.

She giggles, and you glance over at Hyuck’s sister again. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Just... you’re looking at him like you’re ready to add to the Lee family name.”

You gasp. “I am not!”

She gives you a knowing look, and you bite your lip, eyes shifting back to Hyuck. This time, he’s handing his niece a sippy cup, tapping her nose. Your chest tightens.

“Okay... I suppose he is good with them.”

Hyuck’s sister nods, humming in agreement. “He always has been. With every younger sibling, every cousin—even when I had my first daughter, Hyuck was the most excited.”

He’s sitting on the grass now, all his nieces and nephews swarming him, tickling him. He’s being extra dramatic, letting the younger ones tug at his hair just to make them laugh. You stare, warmth and wholesomeness filling you.

“He’d make a great dad, Y/N.”

The statement is completely sobering.

“Uh,” you stammer, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”

That’s not entirely true. You had spoken about it—once. You’d told him it wasn’t something you had planned for but weren’t necessarily opposed to, and the conversation had never come up again.

Hyuck’s sister blinks at you, clearly confused. “That’s crazy. Hyuck’s always said he wants to be a dad.”

Clearly. 

There’s no denying that. It’s so obvious—every second he’s cupping up the kids, tickling them, teasing them. He looks so profoundly happy, so perfect. And it suddenly clicks for you.

This could be yours. Forever. He wants it. And now... you’re starting to think you want it, too. Him, this, forever. His kids. Your kids.

“Y/N! Y/N!” one of the younger kids calls, waving you over from across the backyard. “Can you play with us? We need more people to play the monsters. Uncle Hyuckie can’t do it on his own.”

And just like that, you’re being pulled away from the baby fever conversation and coaxed into joining them—not that it took much convincing. Your thoughts were starting to scare you a little. You’d never seriously thought about kids—until now.

Because you’d never seen Hyuck look more attractive than when he was playing dad.

“I can’t believe she’s one already,” Hyuck beams from where he’s stretched out on your bed. He’s been talking about the party nonstop since you got home. “Did you see the little bows in her hair? So fucking cute.”

You glance at him through the vanity mirror where you’re sitting, watching the way his face lights up, animated and so full of joy. There’s a warmth in your eyes, your lips curved into a soft smile as you take him in. He notices, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s that look for?” 

You stand and walk over to him, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyebrows knit together, more confused now.

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

You smile, sidestepping his question with one of your own. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yess…?” he replies, but there’s a trace of suspicion in his voice.

“Your family’s really nice.”

“Oh, are they now?” He squints playfully. “I saw you talking to my sister. I hope she wasn’t embarrassing me—she loves doing that.”

You shake your head with a giggle. “She wasn’t.”

“Okay…” he draws out. “Then what was she saying?” 

“That you’d be a good dad. That you want to be a dad.” 

Hyuck’s eyes widen and you mentally add this moment to the short list of times your boyfriend has been rendered completely speechless—still countable on one hand.

He coughs, his cheeks turning pink. “S-She said that?”

You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“And…what did you say back?”

You spread his legs out on the bed so you can slide between them, sitting there and looking up at him as he waits, eager for your response. He’s so cute like this—adorable, even—clearly dying to hear what you thought.

“I didn’t respond,” you admit honestly.

You catch the flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he covers it with a laugh—though it’s not genuine. You can tell he’s trying to brush it off, trying to pretend that he’d be okay with the possibility that you might not want that kind of future with him.

“She shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I used to talk about it a lot as a kid. I don’t really think like that now. I can’t, you know… because of my job.”

“So you don’t want kids because of your job?” You ask. The tone in your voice takes him by surprise because now you’re the one sounding hurt. 

“Baby... is this a trick question?” He laughs nervously.

You shake your head, crossing your arms across your chest. “No Hyuck. But I want you to answer it truthfully.” 

He shrugs, looking unsure. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You’re lying.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, I don’t know what you want me to say—”

“The truth,” you insist. 

He pauses, his gaze softening. “I love you, Y/N. You said kids weren’t really part of your plan, and that’s okay,” he begins, his voice steady but sincere. “And yeah, maybe I always kind of thought kids would be in mine, but then I met you. And you became my plan.”

You grab a hold of his hand and squeeze. It draws a genuine smile from him before he speaks again. 

“I know we’ve never talked about it since. But I’m fine with anything—as long as it’s with you.”

You smile, his comment pulling at your heartstrings because you feel the exact same way. 

“Those kids absolutely adore you, Hyuck,” you say and he gives a half smile. 

“Well, I am their favourite Uncle.” 

You trail a soft finger up and down the naked skin of his arm. His eyes follow your touch and that furrowed expression is on his face again. 

“Y/N what’s going on with you? You’re confusing me—”

“You know—” you cut him off. “I think you’d be a great dad.” 

He stares at you, properly taking you in. He’s never seen this side of you before, and you’ve never given him a compliment quite like that before. The thought of you being into the idea of him as a dad… well, he didn’t expect it to turn him on this much. Maybe it’s the way your fingers brush his arm? Yeah no, it’s not.

“Today made me realise something,” you say, shifting to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his neck now. He raises a curious brow, waiting. “You look so hot with kids. The thought of you being a dad is so fucking hot, Hyuck.”

Hyuck smiles at the confession, and his hands move to grip your ass as he ground your hips forward on himself. You let out a small gasp of surprise as you feel him. 

“Please don’t joke like that, Y/N,” he whines, eyes squeezing shut. “Because I’ve been thinking about you being the mother of my kids since the day I met you.”

You giggle, biting your lip to stifle the soft moans escaping you as he grinds you slowly against his growing bulge.

“Well, why don’t you do something about it then,” you tease breathlessly, feeling the hardness of him through his sweatpants.

Hyuck’s mouth parts, caught somewhere between awe and shock, but before he can question how serious you are, your lips capture his, and your tongue is slipping inside his mouth to deepen the kiss.

The groan you both share is synchronised, and it’s all the encouragement he needs to flip you over, hovering above you with a renewed sense of urgency to make promise of your teasing. 

His fingers hook into your panties, sliding them off as you shift upward against your pillows, tossing your nightgown aside. Hyuck strips out of his own clothes, desperate to press his bare skin against yours, his need overwhelming any sense of patience.

He kisses you back roughly, passionately. Fuelled by your impossible hotness and readiness to be fucked—fucked by him. Your tongue dips deeper and deeper into his mouth, never satisfied, craving more of him. You cling to him, your hands and legs moving over his skin, desperate to feel every inch. Your hips roll up, slickness coating his shaft, causing a rippling gasp to leave his mouth. 

Hyuck pulls back with dark eyes. You—his girl—naked and desperate under him, begging him to do something about his baby fever—your baby fever. It’s the hottest shit he’s ever seen. His new favourite thing. His obsession. He loves seeing you like this, he decides—so willing, so desperate for him, for his cock. Needing him to bring you the pleasure only he can give. And he’ll make sure you remember that once you're carrying his child.

The image floods his mind—your stomach growing, swelling with his baby, the glow in your smile as you hold his child. A family, all with him. Only him. Because you want his kids.

The last thought pushes him over the edge, and with a low growl, he bites down on your neck, lips and teeth claiming your skin. He wants you marked by him—like always—but this time it’s different. It’s possessive. Primal. Feral. His saliva wet on your neck, dark bruises blooming over your breasts, his fingers burning prints into your hips, and his seed buried deep inside your soaking wet cunt.

His cock jumps when you roll your hips again, your whimpers causing him to groan and eyes roll back. You sound so desperate. Desperate to make him your forever. 

“Hyuck—” you sob as his teeth graze your nipple, sending it hardening under his touch. “Please, I need to feel you.”

His eyes sparkle with lust as he drapes your legs over his waist and leans down, capturing your mouth in a long, needy kiss. He aligns himself with your slick pussy, your fingers clawing at his back as he slowly eases into you. He fills you completely, lifting your hips to bury himself deeper.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he mumbles, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “Taking me so well, always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?”

You moan as his cock hits every spot inside you—so deep, so hard, so good. Each thrust drags along your walls in a way that feels divine.

“Can’t wait until you’re mine, so full of me,” he whispers, kissing your neck. You whimper, your walls clenching at his words, urging him to quicken his pace. “Do you want that, baby? Want my cum inside this pretty pussy?”

“Yes—fuck yes—please.”

“Say it for me,” he requests softly, a gentle yet desperate edge in his voice. “Please tell me.”

“I want to be yours; make me yours,” you breathe out.

Hyuck's gaze drops to your lips, entranced by the words spilling from them. He thrusts harder, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer. Your cunt swallows his cock whole, turning his thrusts sloppy, and he groans.

You’re practically sobbing with how fast he’s driving into you, so close to seeing stars.

“You’re so good at taking me,” he praises, his breath ragged. “Gonna make me fill you.”

You squeeze around him, and the thought of cumming inside you sends a shiver through his thighs, making his breathing stutter.

“Yes! Fuck, please keep going,” You pant. 

“Want you so full of me that it’s dripping down your leg. And then I’ll push it back in when I fuck you again.”

Your breaths grow louder and quicker, matching his as you both teeter on the edge. He kisses you deeply, your mouths suffocating each other as you grip his soft brown hair. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you tight.

“Hyuck—I’m gonna cum.”

“So fucking good, baby,” he moans in awe. “I’m going to fill you with my cum. I want you overflowing with my seed—fuck!” He grunts hoarsely, his body tightening with tension.

Your walls shatter around him, tightening and fluttering on his cock as you cum. Hyuck holds you close, so intimately, holding himself deep inside you as he feels the first spurts of his cum shooting from his cock. 

He doesn’t stop, his hips still moving gently, making sure you take everything, softening each thrust with tender kisses along your bare shoulders. You sigh dreamily, fingers threading through his hair, and he smiles, still half-hard inside you. You’re exhausted, and the sight of your sleepy expression makes his heart twist. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, and for a moment, you stay like that—so close, so intimate.

But as the post-orgasm bliss begins to fade, a flicker of panic flashes in his eyes.

“Fuck—” he mutters, pulling himself off of you quickly. There’s a gnawing feeling in his chest, a sudden guilt. “Y/N, I’m really sorry, I got caught up in the moment. Do you want me to run to the store—”

“No.” You shake your head and grab his arm, keeping him close. “I don’t want you to. If that’s okay…”

His eyes darken with lust before a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Y-yeah… that’s more than okay with me,” he says, nodding eagerly.

“Who knows?” You shrug with a teasing grin. “I might not even get pregnant this time.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “This time?”

You nod confidently. “Yeah, this time. Because we’re going to keep doing this until I am pregnant, Hyuck.”

His grin widens as he climbs back into bed, pulling you into his arms.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that, especially not when I woke up this morning,” he laughs, pressing soft kisses along your neck.

You giggle, leaning into his touch. “What can I say? Seeing you in dad mode made me so fucking horny.”