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How wpuld yandere polytrix react to their darling 's missing posters? What will they once they find the missing posters?
so i took this 2 different ways so here are 2 different version's below

Mira is calmest on the surface. Her expression doesn’t change as she reads your missing poster. In fact, she folds it neatly and slips it into her coat like it’s a love letter.
“They’re still looking. That’s… sweet. Misguided, but sweet.”
Later that night, she pins the poster up inside your new “bedroom.” You see it when she opens the door, her silhouette haloed by soft purple light.
“Look, sweetheart. You’re famous.”
Rumi laughs. Genuinely, loudly, full of disbelief and glee. She rips the first poster off the wall and spins in a circle with it like it’s a prize she won.
“Aw, they think they can find you. That’s adorable.”
Then she grabs a marker and scrawls "Found. Mine." across a few others, her movements erratic and unhinged. She slaps them back onto public walls—wants the world to know.
Zoey panics. Not because she’s worried for you—but because someone might get close. Someone might interfere. Might make you scared again. Might try to take you away.
“Who put these up? We need to find them. Now.”
She spends the entire night erasing evidence. Pulling posters down. Checking camera footage in public places. Calling in “tips” to redirect the search.
When she returns, she holds your face and whispers:
“It’s okay, angel. They won’t take you. They don’t deserve you.”
They stage a video.
You’re sitting in Zoey’s lap, your eyes heavy-lidded and dazed. Mira adjusts your hair while Rumi waves at the camera.
“Stop looking,” Zoey says sweetly. “They’re not missing. They’re just finally home.”
They send the video to the number on the poster. Just once. Just enough to crush hope.
And then?
They disappear.
With you.
And nobody ever sees another poster again.
__
Zoey finds the first poster.
It’s fluttering on a tree near the coffee shop where you used to wait after your dance classes, the one she always passed when she followed you home. She recognizes the photo instantly—your soft eyes, your crooked smile, the date stamp from last winter.
Missing.
Zoey's heart goes completely still.
Her hands tremble as she smooths the poster against the bark, reading every word over and over again like she’s missed a hidden message.
“Last seen—three days ago…”
She tears it down. Folds it with too much precision. Presses it to her lips.
She doesn’t cry. But the rage behind her eyes begins to boil.
“Where are you, baby?” she whispers. “Who took you from me?”
Rumi sees the poster crumpled on Zoey’s desk.
She’s laughing at something on her phone—until she notices the familiar shape of your face in the paper.
Her smile drops. Her fingers go rigid.
“No,” she breathes. “No, no, no—no.”
She storms out within minutes, hunting your usual paths like a wolf on blood-scent. Her nails dig into her palms. Her grin is gone, replaced by something hollow.
She’s muttering your name under her breath, her voice breaking between fury and fear.
“You were supposed to be here. You were mine.”
Mira finds them both in Zoey’s apartment.
She reads the poster once. Then again. Then she tears it into pieces with a trembling hand.
“Someone took them,” she says flatly. “We were too slow.”
She blames herself first. Then she blames you.
“Why weren’t you more careful? Why didn’t you listen?”
Then she starts blaming everyone else.
She spends the next 48 hours doing what the police won’t—tracking street cams, bribing sources, hacking old friends in city security.
And when she finally finds a lead?
“They’re going to die,” she says, staring into her screen. “Whoever it was. They’re already dead.”
The next time a missing poster goes up, it doesn’t last more than an hour. Rumi burns it. Zoey cuts the rest down with a box cutter. Mira plants a virus in the printer database so none can be reprinted.
They’re quiet now. Not angry—just focused. Razor sharp.
They don’t sleep.
They don’t eat.
And when they do speak?
It’s about you.
About how you’ll look when you’re back. How tightly they’ll hold you. How they’ll never let anyone get near you again. How they’ll never let you out again.
“We were going to take them,” Rumi whispers, her voice cracking. “They were supposed to be ours.”
“They are ours,” Zoey corrects coldly. “They just don’t know it yet.”
And Mira—Mira smiles.
For the first time in days.
Because she’s traced the signal. Because she’s found where you're being kept. Because the person who took you made a fatal mistake.
“Get ready,” she says. “We’re bringing them home

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist, @etcherrie, @ludwigvonbaethoven
#kpop demon hunters#huntrix x reader#kpop demon hunters x reader#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#rumi x reader#kpop demon hunters smut#mira x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#kpdh x reader#zoey x reader#yandere polytrix#yandere rumi#yandere mira#yandere zoey#yandere#yandere huntrix
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The Huntrix x Zoey’s Gf!Reader was everything I hoped for tysm!! I’m gonna be annoying and request a version for Rumi and Mira too, starting with Rumi!
I think it’s fun to play with dynamic of Rumi being the leader AND the oldest of the trio, but also paired with Reader having a mom-friend personality where she likes to take care of everyone, making sure they’re fed, drinking enough water, and takes care of their scrapes and bruises when they’re injured. (Maybe even using innocent pet names like “sweetheart” and “Hon” and calls them all “her girls”)
I feel like Rumi would be mostly oblivious to (or dismissive of) her best friends’ attraction to her longtime girlfriend and likely wouldn’t notice until Zoey or Mira slipped up and were too obvious about it. But once she does realize she goes through a quiet period of consideration before ultimately having (fumbling through) a sit down discussion with everyone.
And then they all bang <3
they banged <3

The Huntrix dorm smelled like lemongrass, sesame oil, and something vaguely floral from Mira’s bath salts. The windows were cracked open just enough to let in the warm summer breeze, music playing softly from the speaker—some sleepy jazz Zoey had grumbled about until she fell asleep.
Reader was standing at the stove barefoot, hair pinned messily, a gentle sway in her hips as she stirred the pot. Her hoodie hung off one shoulder, her voice soft as she hummed something under her breath, completely unaware of how intimately domestic the scene had become.
Mira sat at the kitchen island, watching her with tired, quiet eyes. One arm was wrapped in a soft bandage from yesterday’s Honmoon flare-up. Reader had tended to it herself, biting her lip as she dabbed antiseptic on Mira’s pale skin. “You push yourself too hard,” she’d murmured, eyes full of concern. “You need to rest, sweetheart.”
Mira hadn’t known what to say. She still didn’t.
Meanwhile, Zoey was half-asleep on the couch, head tilted into Reader’s lap. She’d flopped there twenty minutes ago claiming a “lap emergency.” Reader just laughed and carded her fingers through her hair, gently tracing the shell of her ear. “My poor baby,” she’d cooed when Zoey grumbled about her sore neck.
And Rumi—Rumi had her feet tucked under her, book open in her lap but untouched for the last ten minutes. She was watching Reader. Softly. Thoughtfully. Like she always did when she let her guard down.
“You girls hungry?” Reader asked suddenly, glancing over her shoulder.
“Starving,” Zoey mumbled against her thigh.
“I could eat,” Mira added, gaze dropping to the soft dip of Reader’s waist where the hoodie bunched up.
“Made extra rice,” Reader said cheerfully, “and the broth’s finally thick enough. Mira, you’ll eat first. You need the iron.”
“You’re such a mom,” Zoey teased, voice warm and teasing.
Reader just smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I am your mom-friend. And proud.”
That got a laugh out of all three girls. Rumi closed her book.
“You’re not just the mom-friend,” Rumi said gently. “You’re the heart.”
Reader turned pink.
Dinner was full of quiet murmurs and sleepy smiles. Reader flitted from girl to girl, checking cups, passing napkins, rubbing soothing circles into Mira’s back when her shoulder twinged.
Zoey watched her like she wanted to climb into her skin. Mira never said a word, but when Reader crouched to pick up a dropped chopstick, Mira’s breath caught like it hurt.
Rumi missed none of it—but told herself it was nothing. Reader was affectionate. Warm. Their comfort blanket.
That’s all it was.
Later, when the girls were piled on the couch for a movie, Reader had Zoey wrapped around her like a second hoodie and Mira dozing against her knee. Rumi sat beside her, shoulder to shoulder, gaze flickering from the screen to her girlfriend’s lips every few minutes.
“You okay?” Reader whispered.
Rumi nodded. “You’re really good with them.”
“They’re my girls,” Reader said simply, brushing a hand down Rumi’s thigh. “Of course I take care of them.”
Rumi’s chest tightened.
She kissed Reader’s temple and tried not to think too hard about the way Zoey nuzzled into her lap, or how Mira was still awake—eyes low and hungry as she watched the way Reader’s fingers moved.
It started with Zoey’s mouth.
Which, in fairness, was always getting her into trouble—but this time it was different. Less “chaotic flirtation” and more “don’t-look-at-me-like-that-or-I’ll-actually-do-it.”
Reader was in the kitchen again, swaying gently while she washed fruit, her fingers glistening under the sink light. Her voice carried soft and warm across the dorm. Rumi sat on the floor, stretching. Mira was reading quietly. Zoey had been pretending to scroll through her phone for the last ten minutes, but her eyes never left Reader.
“Hey,” she called lazily. “You know, if you weren’t with Rumi, I’d totally marry you.”
Reader laughed, bright and breezy. “You say that to me at least once a week.”
“Yeah, and I mean it every time.”
Rumi chuckled under her breath. Mira stilled.
Zoey tossed her phone onto the couch and got up, padding over barefoot. She leaned a hip against the counter, arms crossed, mouth tugged into a grin.
“You’re always fussing over us,” she said, voice lower now. “Cooking, bandaging our bruises, tucking us in after missions. You’re like…” She tilted her head, expression unreadable for a moment. “You’re like home.”
Reader blinked. “That’s sweet, Zo.”
Zoey didn’t break eye contact. “I think about kissing you more than I should.”
It was out there. Like a stone dropped in still water.
Reader paused, blinking, cheeks going pink. “Zoey…”
She smiled—wolfish, charming. “Kidding. Mostly.” Then she leaned in, deliberately brushing wet fingers aside, and kissed Reader’s cheek. Slowly. Too slowly.
Behind them, Rumi’s eyes narrowed slightly.
That night, Mira lingered after everyone had gone to bed.
Reader was still up, folding laundry at the kitchen table. Mira hovered nearby, nursing a mug of sleepytime tea, though it had long gone cold in her hands.
“You’re not tired?” Reader asked gently.
Mira shook her head. “Not yet.”
Silence settled again. Reader kept folding—Zoey’s hoodie, Rumi’s joggers, one of Mira’s oversized shirts that still smelled faintly of honeysuckle shampoo.
“You’re too good to us,” Mira said suddenly. Her voice was soft, vulnerable in a way that made Reader pause.
“I love you girls,” Reader said easily, sincerely. “That’s not something I say lightly.”
Mira stepped closer, her hands trembling just slightly around the mug. “If I kissed you right now, would you stop me?”
Reader looked up, startled.
“I—what? Mira… I'm with Rumi.”
Mira smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer.” And she left the tea on the counter, walking away without another word.
Rumi stood in the hallway, hidden in shadow.
She’d heard every word.
Later, when Reader slipped into bed beside her, she noticed the tension in Rumi’s shoulders, the way her arms stayed wrapped around her own body, not around Reader.
“Rumi?” she whispered. “You’re quiet.”
A beat.
“I saw the way Zoey looked at you,” Rumi said. Her voice was calm. Hollow. “And I heard Mira. Just now.”
Reader’s breath caught.
Rumi didn’t move. “How long has this been going on?”
“Rumi, it’s not like that—”
“I’m not angry,” she said quietly. “I’m just… thinking.”
Reader reached out slowly, brushing her fingertips against Rumi’s wrist.
“I love you,” she said, voice breaking. “But I can’t pretend I don’t care about them, too. I’ve been trying not to look too closely at it. But I… I think I love them, Rumi. Just differently.”
A long silence passed.
Then, finally, Rumi turned, eyes shadowed but soft.
“Then we need to talk. All of us. Tomorrow.”
__
They sat on the floor of the dorm’s living room.
It wasn’t formal—no stiff chairs, no sharp voices. Just the four of them circled around the coffee table, legs folded, tea forgotten in their hands. The air felt heavy but not hostile, thick with things unsaid for far too long.
Reader sat beside Rumi, thigh brushing hers. Zoey slouched on the other side, but her eyes were sharp, flicking between the two of them. Mira sat cross-legged across from her, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
It was Rumi who finally broke the silence.
“I know,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “I know you both have feelings for her.”
Zoey opened her mouth. Closed it.
Mira flinched, then looked straight into Rumi’s eyes. “I never meant to disrespect what you have.”
“I know,” Rumi said again. She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not disrespect. It’s just... the truth.”
Reader swallowed hard. Her fingers twitched on the hem of her own hoodie.
“I didn’t notice for a while,” Rumi went on. “And when I did, I didn’t want to believe it. I thought—maybe it was just harmless teasing. Or loneliness. But it’s not.”
She turned her gaze to Zoey, who looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, then to Mira, who met her stare with quiet intensity.
“You’re both in love with her.”
Neither denied it.
Reader inhaled shakily, her voice barely above a whisper. “Rumi…”
She looked at her, really looked at her. “I love you,” Reader said. “You were first. You are my home. But I look at them and something in me aches. It’s not confusion. It’s not a crush. It’s... deeper. I didn’t want to hurt you, so I never acted on it.”
Rumi was silent. But her eyes softened.
“I know you,” she said. “And I know you don’t give your heart easily. If you love them... I can’t ask you to carve that out of yourself just to stay mine.”
Zoey sat forward, cautious. “So... what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Rumi said slowly, “that maybe we stop pretending this isn’t already happening. That we sit with it. All of it. And then... we decide what we do next.”
There was another pause, but this one was different—looser, like breath let out after holding it too long.
Mira’s voice was quiet. “What if what we want... is all of you?”
Zoey turned to Reader. “And what if I’m not playing around anymore? What if I mean it?”
Reader’s eyes brimmed with emotion.
“You’re my girls,” she whispered. “All of you. I don’t want to pick. I just... want to love you.”
Rumi reached out and took her hand.
“Then love us,” she said softly. “Show us.”
It began slowly.
Mira moved first—always the bold one. She leaned in and kissed Reader gently, her usual teasing absent. This wasn’t for show. Her lips were soft, careful, reverent.
Zoey followed next. She shifted beside them, brushing her knuckles along Reader’s jaw before kissing the other corner of her mouth. Her breath shook as she pulled away.
And all the while, Rumi sat back.
Watching.
Reader glanced at her, uncertain. “Are you okay?”
“I want to see you loved,” Rumi murmured. “I want to see what it looks like when they touch you like they’ve wanted to for months.”
Reader’s eyes fluttered. “You’re sure?”
“I’m yours,” she whispered. “So let them see what that means.”
Zoey kissed down her neck, teeth just barely grazing the skin. Mira’s hands found Reader’s thighs, slow and reverent. The hoodie slipped off one shoulder, exposing smooth skin, and both girls leaned in like gravity pulled them closer.
Reader moaned softly, head falling back against the couch.
She felt full to the brim with love, with need, with everything she’d held back. “My girls,” she gasped. “You’re all mine.”
Rumi’s voice came low from behind her, velvet and commanding.
“Good girl. Let them have you.”
__
Zoey had never seen Reader like this.
Head thrown back, cheeks flushed, shirt riding up—lips parted around soft, dizzy little gasps as Mira mouthed at her collarbone and Zoey sucked another mark just below her ribs.
Her fingers tangled in Mira’s dark hair while Zoey's hands explored, unapologetic, skating over her waist, hips, the curve of her thigh.
“You’re so responsive,” Mira whispered, dazed. “It’s like… your whole body wants to be touched.”
“She does,” Zoey added, licking a slow stripe along Reader’s stomach. “She’s been holding this in for way too long.”
Reader whimpered—loud—and Rumi, seated a few feet away, let out a low sound in her throat.
Her eyes were molten.
“I can’t believe,” she said quietly, “you were this starved for them and never told me.”
Reader tried to answer, but Mira had just slipped her hand under her waistband and she choked on a moan instead. Her hips arched instinctively, need pulsing hot and dizzy in every inch of her body.
Rumi leaned forward slowly, like a lion finally deciding to hunt.
“Take it off.”
Reader blinked, dazed. “W-What?”
“Your shirt,” Rumi said, voice calm but darkened with heat. “I want to see all of you. Let them see you.”
Mira sat up first, tugging gently at the hem. “May I?”
Reader nodded, and the fabric lifted—slowly, reverently—until her chest was bare, breath hitching in the warm air. Zoey let out a reverent curse under her breath.
“Holy shit.”
“You’re beautiful,” Mira murmured, eyes wide.
“She always has been,” Rumi said softly—and then she finally stood, crossing the room in a few slow, deliberate steps. She knelt behind Reader, spreading her legs slightly to make room for her.
Reader gasped as Rumi wrapped her arms around her from behind, pulling her back against the firm line of her body.
“You’re mine,” Rumi whispered against her ear, one hand sliding up to palm her breast, thumb flicking her nipple. “But tonight… you’re ours.”
It was worship. All of it.
Mira kissed her softly, slowly, while Zoey mouthed at her thighs and Rumi bit her neck. Hands moved over her like they were reading scripture. Every inch of her skin was touched, tasted, treasured.
Mira pushed her gently to lie back on a pile of cushions, and Rumi didn’t resist—just stayed behind, stroking her hair as Zoey peeled away her shorts and Mira moved between her legs like she belonged there.
“You’ve taken care of us for so long,” Mira said, kissing just above her knee. “Let us return the favor.”
And then her mouth was there, warm and devastating, licking slow and deliberate circles over her soaked heat while Zoey kissed the inside of her thigh and whispered filth in her ear.
Reader writhed.
“Fuck—Mira—God—Rumi—” Her hands reached for something, anything, and Rumi caught them, pinning them above her head with one strong arm.
“Let go,” she whispered. “You don’t need to hold anything back anymore.”
Zoey leaned up, pressing a kiss to her lips. “We’ve got you.”
She came like the sky cracking open.
Once. Then again. And again—until her voice was raw and her body trembled and her thighs wouldn’t stop shaking. Mira’s mouth was unrelenting. Rumi’s voice was in her ear. Zoey’s fingers were inside her now, coaxing her through the high with teasing curls and praise.
“My girl,” Rumi growled. “So good for us. So perfect.”
When she finally stilled, blinking slowly like she’d forgotten her own name, Zoey chuckled and kissed her temple. “Still alive in there, sweetheart?”
Reader nodded weakly. “Barely.”
“I think we broke her,” Mira said, smiling against her skin.
Rumi hummed. “Not yet.”
She shifted, gripping Reader’s jaw and turning her face gently toward her. Her eyes were molten steel.
“Can you take me now, baby?” she asked softly, already untying her sweatpants. “Or do we need to give you a minute?”
Reader swallowed. Then whispered: “Please.”
Rumi kissed her slow and hard.
That night, Reader was claimed—fully, finally, utterly.
Rumi took her slow but rough, one hand gripping her throat while Zoey whispered encouragement and Mira rubbed soothing circles on her thigh. When she moaned Rumi’s name, Mira kissed her chest and said, “That’s it. You’re doing so good, baby.”
Rumi’s voice growled against her ear: “Ours. Forever.”
And Reader—bare, undone, full of love—could only cry out her agreement and hold her girls like they were oxygen.

guys i js found out i got a j*b
scary
anyways
requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist, @etcherrie, @ludwig
#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpop demon hunters#kpdh x reader#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#kpop demon hunters smut#kpop demon hunters headcanons#rumi x reader#kpdh x you#mira x reader#zoey x you#huntrix smut#kpdh smut#wlw smut#lesbian smut#polytr/x#polytrix#kdph
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My humble request - Rumi, Mira, and Zoey each having sex with reader and one of the other members walks in on them.
LOLOL
18+ as it contains sexual material

Rumi:
The dorm was quiet. Too quiet. You were pinned beneath Rumi on the couch in the common room, legs tangled in the throw blanket you’d tried to use as camouflage, her lips hot and greedy on your neck.
“You're so damn pretty when you're trying to be quiet,” she whispered, fingers sliding beneath your shorts, already soaked through.
You gasped softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Rumi—someone might—”
“Shh,” she smirked. “Let them.”
The tempo grew heated—her hand working you open, her mouth trailing lower just as you tugged at her shirt—
“HEY, has anyone seen my- OH MY GOD." Mira froze in the doorway, holding a bowl of popcorn, eyes wide in horror.
You screamed and yanked the blanket over your chest while Rumi didn’t even flinch—just gave a smug look over her shoulder.
“Don’t you knock, nerd?”
Mira backed out so fast she hit the doorframe. “I WASN’T EVEN—YOU'RE IN THE LIVING ROOM!”
Mira:
Mira had you in her bed, shirt unbuttoned and cheeks flushed pink, riding the high of finally giving in to weeks of tension. Her fingers were firm around your thighs as she rocked her hips, lips parted in a breathless whimper as you clawed at her back.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she hissed, hiding her face in your neck.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” you whispered, kissing her jaw.
She rolled her hips again—and you both moaned at the contact. Just as you arched into her, bliss pooling in your stomach—
“Hey Mira, have you—OH. MY. GOD.”
Zoey stood frozen at the door, one headphone dangling from her ear, mouth dropping open like a cartoon character.
You yelped and Mira screamed, scrambling off you with the most awkward dive under the blanket in recorded history.
“WHAT THE HELL, ZOEY?! GET OUT!!”
Zoey covered her eyes, but kept peeking. "Hello?? Oh my god. Oh my god. I need holy water. I’m blind.”
Zoey:
Zoey had dragged you into the practice room after hours, the speakers still buzzing from the last song. You were pinned against the mirror, one leg over her shoulder as her tongue drove you wild—wet, messy, precise.
“Can’t believe you wore that skirt,” she muttered, licking into you again with a groan. “You wanted this.”
You could barely speak. Your hands slapped against the mirror as your knees buckled, climax approaching fast.
“Z-Zoey—f-fuck, please, I’m—”
“YO, ZOEY—wait—WHAT THE HELL?!”
Rumi stumbled in holding a water bottle, froze mid-step, and stared for a long second before bursting into wheezy laughter.
“NO FUCKING WAY. In the practice room?! You’re worse than me!”
Zoey didn’t even stop—just turned her head with a growl. “Get OUT unless you’re joining.”
That shut Rumi up real fast.
She turned on her heel. “Okay, wow, I’m leaving. But I will be judging you later.”

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist, @etcherrie, @ludwigvonbaethoven
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#kpop demon hunters smut#kpop demon hunters headcanons#kpdh x you#rumi x reader#mira x reader#zoey x reader#huntrix smut#kpdh smut#wlw smut#lesbian smut#kdph
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I mean if we're going for Greek god crossovers, it's got to be a daughter of Hades at some point. Maybe Polytix mistakes them for a demon at first?
daughter of ares next??
i actually love the demi-god crossovers rn
also there's been some requests for fandoms or with people i have no clue about so i wont be doing.

You’re used to being followed by ghosts. It’s the living that make your skin crawl.
The air is thick with Seoul’s neon heat, city lights buzzing above the graveyard gates like insects drawn to death. You didn’t want to be here—but the dead don’t rest in this part of town. There’s too much unfinished business. Too many regrets. Too much pain buried under concrete.
You walk alone, long coat brushing the tips of cracked gravestones, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Spirits whisper at your heels. They never leave you alone anymore. Not since you turned sixteen and woke up with shadows seeping from your mouth and a skeletal crown hovering over your head.
Hades’s daughter. Marked. Banished. Cursed.
And yet… tonight feels different. There’s something new in the air. A hum—no, a song—hovering just beyond the veil.
You freeze. So do the ghosts.
Then the world explodes in light.
—
“There she is!”
The shout cuts through the cemetery like a blade. You shield your eyes as spotlights blaze to life—three girls dropping from above like stars falling out of heaven. Sleek outfits, glowing weapons, shimmering hair that whips in the wind.
Idol hunters.
You grit your teeth.
“Back off,” you warn, voice gravelly, low, ancient. “I’m not your enemy.”
The one with the long braid—Rumi—grins like she’s heard that before. “That’s what all demons say.”
The tall, serious one—Mira—is already circling behind you, weapon glowing like twin moons.
But it’s the last girl who steps forward, slow and careful, dark eyes shining in the dark. Zoey.
“You’re not giving off demon energy,” she murmurs. “But you’re not human, either.”
You shrug. “Maybe I’m just a bad dream.”
Zoey’s lips twitch. But she doesn’t lower her weapon. “Name.”
“[Y/N].” You turn your head. “Daughter of Hades.”
Rumi whistles. Mira stiffens. Zoey’s eyes widen—but only for a heartbeat.
“Liar,” Mira snaps. “Hades is a myth.”
You raise your hand. The earth beneath you cracks open. A skeletal hand claws its way out. Then another. Then dozens.
The dead rise.
“I wish I was lying.”

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist, @etcherrie, @ludwigvonbaethoven
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#kpop demon hunters smut#rumi x reader#mira x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#zoey x reader#greek gods#gods#hades#percy jackson cabins
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Infinity and Idol Trouble
Gojo!Reader x Huntrix

The demon’s skull explodes before it hits the ground.
You float above the battlefield lazily, sunglasses glinting in the artificial moonlight of Seoul’s demon-veiled underworld. Blood and ichor rain down, glistening mid-air—then stop inches from your skin. Hovering. Suspended.
Infinity is beautiful like that.
You descend slowly, boots landing without a sound in the crater you just made.
Behind you, buildings are cracked open like eggshells, debris smoking. Sirens blare in the human world beyond the veil—but here, in the forgotten folds of space and spirit, it’s quiet.
At least until someone shrieks your name.
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”
Ah. Right on time.
You turn just in time to catch the killing intent barreling toward you.
Rumi.
Snarling, her demon claws extended, she lunges at your chest—full speed, all fury. You don’t move.
Her attack stops an inch from your shirt.
You watch her hang mid-air, suspended in the field between atoms.
“Hey, wildcat,” you say lazily. “New perfume? Smells like rage.”
She screams.
“You could’ve killed everyone! This was supposed to be a low-level Honmoon flare!”
Behind her, Mira and Zoey land more gracefully—Zoey calm, Mira tense.
You tilt your head.
“What gave you the idea this was low-level? The sky ripping in half, or the ten-story hellbeast breathing acid?”
Zoey crosses her arms. “You knew before we did.”
You shrug. “I see cursed energy. It's a talent.”
“You could’ve told us,” Mira hisses.
You smirk. “I was busy saving lives.”
Mira’s eyes sharpen. “You were grandstanding.”
“Same thing, sunshine.”
Her nostrils flare. She steps closer, not afraid—but clearly furious. You can feel her trying to analyze you again. The way she always does. Logical. Controlled.
You hate how attractive that is.
“You show up uninvited,” Mira snaps, “you mess with the Honmoon’s structure, you provoke demons—and then you act like a hero?”
You lean into her space. She doesn’t flinch. Brave.
“I am a hero,” you say, voice low, smug. “I’m just prettier than most.”
Mira’s jaw clenches.
Rumi growls. “Why can’t I hit you? What is this—this space thing you keep doing?”
You point to the air between her claws and your heart. “Infinity. You can’t touch me unless I allow it.”
Rumi’s mouth twists. “Then let me.”
You grin. “Say please.”
She swings again. Nothing connects.
Behind them, Zoey watches you—not with anger. With calculation.
“You’re hiding something,” she murmurs.
You glance at her over your shades. “Aren’t we all?”
Her lips twitch. “But you’re bad at hiding it.”
You blink. That was... unexpected.
The rooftop is quiet after you “accidentally” teleport the demon corpse into a portal for disposal.
Rumi paces. Mira sharpens her blade. Zoey leans on the edge, watching the city below.
You lay flat on your back on the concrete, shades still on.
“So,” you say cheerfully, “are we finally going to talk about how much fun it is watching you all try to hit me?”
Rumi kicks a pipe.
“You’re infuriating.”
You flash her a grin. “And still unbeaten.”
“You’re reckless,” Mira says from the shadows. “And if you keep going rogue like this, one day you’ll end up dead.”
You yawn. “Not today, sunshine.”
Zoey throws one of her spirit knives.
You don’t even flinch as it stops an inch from your eye.
“Cute,” you murmur. “But you’ll have to do better than that.”
Zoey stares.
“What do you want, exactly?”
You look up at her.
She’s beautiful, sure— bubbly energy even if it's never directed towards you—but that’s not what holds your gaze. It’s the stillness. The calm behind her eyes.
She’s the only one who isn’t flailing in your gravity. Yet.
“Curiosity,” you say. “I wanted to see what the big deal was. Huntrix. Demon hunters. The Honmoon.”
You smile. “Turns out, you’re all very dramatic.”
Zoey cocks her head. “And you’re not?”
“Oh, I’m insufferable,” you say brightly. “But at least I know it.”
Rumi growls. Zoey huffs. Mira actually smirks.
“You’re dangerous,” Mira says softly.
You rise to your feet, slowly.
“I’ve been told that.”
“Not because of your strength,” she continues. “Because of your influence. The way you make people drop their guard.”
You walk past her—close enough to make her breath catch. But of course, she never touches you.
You lean over Zoey’s shoulder instead.
“You haven’t dropped yours, have you?”
She meets your gaze. “No.”
You nod, oddly satisfied.
“Good. Keep it that way.”
You leave them that night with a smirk and a two-finger salute, teleporting into a lazy twist of blue light.
But behind you, thoughts churn.
Mira dreams of defeating you. Of slicing through your shield and wiping that grin off your face. But her blade never connects.
Rumi obsesses. She trains harder, faster, longer. All to break the space you keep between you and the world.
Zoey watches you from afar. Notices when you fight with less laughter and more fury. She sees the slip when your shades crack during battle—and your eyes burn, not with power, but pain.
__2 Weeks Later__
A demon nearly kills you.
It catches you off-guard, its cursed energy layered beneath human skin. You don’t die—but your ribs crack, and you bleed.
You kill it, of course. It’s nothing. But you collapse afterward, breathless and smiling like always.
And that’s how they find you.
Rumi sees the blood and nearly screams.
Mira kneels beside you, furious.
“You idiot.”
You grin. “Still prettier than death.”
Zoey sits beside your head, hands on her knees.
“You let your guard down,” she murmurs.
“Just for a second,” you whisper. “Didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“I did.”
You blink.
There’s silence. A shared breath.
Then Rumi leans over you.
“You’re not untouchable,” she says, low and wild. “Not forever.”
You smirk, even as your vision blurs.
“Promise?”
They don’t kiss you. You don’t touch them.
But they’re looking at you differently now.
Not like a nuisance.
Like a possibility.

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist, @etcherrie, @ludwigvonbaethoven
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#rumi x reader#mira x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#zoey x reader#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#jjk#jjk x reader#kpdh x jjk#crossover
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Can I request a Zoey x fem!reader (kind of inspired by the Mira x reader turned polytrix x reader requests)? where Zoey starts to notice that her best friends are REALLY attracted to her longtime girlfriend but obviously Rumi and Mira won’t say anything because they respect Zoey and reader’s relationship.
I feel like Zoey would go from quietly smug about her hot girlfriend to increasingly interested in sharing to the point she starts teasing her best friends until they verbally admit their interest.
And then they all bang <3
"and then they all bang" has me CACKLING.
18+ as this contains smut

The apartment is quiet in that rare, golden sort of way—post-tour stillness, that sweet stretch of peace between chaos and the next wave. No makeup. No demons. No screaming fans or press commitments. Just soft clothes, lazy playlists, and the kind of heat that makes even the air feel heavy.
You’re curled sideways on the couch, one bare leg draped over Zoey’s as she scrolls her phone with a little grin, humming something under her breath. Her hand rests on your thigh, thumb drawing idle circles. It’s innocent, casual, intimate. The kind of touch that says, You’re mine, always.
The television flickers with some silly rom-com Mira picked, but no one’s really watching it. Rumi's in the kitchen, grabbing snacks, while Mira lounges on the floor with a pillow hugged to her chest, occasionally glancing up at you.
You’ve noticed it, too.
The way her eyes linger a little too long. The way Rumi smiles differently when she talks to you—slower, warmer, more deliberate. You’re not imagining it. And neither is Zoey.
You know that because of the way she smirks.
"You're quiet today, Mira," Zoey says, chipper but pointed.
Mira blinks. “Huh? Oh, just... tired, I guess.”
Zoey leans into you, lowering her voice to a theatrical stage whisper. "She’s been making that face the whole time. You think it’s the movie—or is it you?"
You stiffen, your heart fluttering in your chest. Mira makes a flustered noise and buries her face in the pillow.
"Zoey," you whisper, nudging her gently. She just grins wider, teeth catching her bottom lip.
“What?” she teases. “I’m just saying. I get it. You’re hot.”
Her fingers squeeze your thigh once, firm. Warm.
Behind you, the sound of Rumi’s footsteps—quiet, but unhurried—comes closer. She sets a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and sinks down next to Mira. She doesn’t say anything, but you feel her glance: brief, cautious, interested.
Zoey watches them both with that same smug curiosity. It’s in the tilt of her head, the lazy drape of her arm around your waist. She's not threatened. She’s thriving.
“You two always get weird when she wears shorts,” Zoey says suddenly, kicking her feet up and smiling at you like she’s proud of herself.
Both girls go still.
Mira sputters something unintelligible.
Rumi clears her throat. “They’re just... really short shorts.”
You flush, tugging at the hem self-consciously.
Zoey, ever the menace, purrs, “Aren’t they cute, though? I picked them.”
She gives your ass a not-so-subtle pat.
You swat her arm with a choked laugh. “Zo!”
“What?” she sings, eyes glittering. “Don’t act like you didn’t see them staring. I’ve seen it for weeks.”
That makes the room go quiet. Mira opens her mouth. Closes it. Rumi’s gaze drops to the floor.
"...We're not," Rumi starts, voice softer than usual, "trying anything. We’d never..."
“Relax,” Zoey says, but there's a note of challenge there. "I didn’t say I was mad.”
She pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I just think it’s interesting. That’s all.”
The way she says it makes your skin buzz.
You glance at her from the corner of your eye. Her grin is all mischief, but her hand on your waist feels steady. Reassuring. She’s still your girlfriend. Still your anchor.
But now she’s... inviting something.
And you don’t know what’s worse: how bold she’s being, or how warm it makes you feel.
__
The morning is thick with summer air, the kind that creeps in through cracked windows and makes everything feel just a little too warm, too slow. You're on the floor in a tangle of blankets and pillows left over from last night’s movie marathon. Someone turned the TV off at some point, but none of you made it to your bedrooms.
Rumi is sprawled out nearby on her stomach, still asleep, face half-buried in a pillow. Mira is curled up next to her with one hand tucked under her cheek, her mouth parted in soft breathing. You’re on your back, sandwiched between Zoey and the back of the couch, with her thigh thrown over yours possessively. Her body’s molded to your side like she was poured there.
She's awake—you can tell. Her fingers are playing lightly with the hem of your oversized tee, tracing the edge in lazy, deliberate circles against your bare hip.
You murmur, “You’re up early.”
Zoey hums, low and satisfied. “Was already awake. Just enjoying the view.”
You stretch, blinking sleep from your eyes. “Of me?”
“Of you. Of them.” Her voice is hushed and wicked. “God, babe. You really didn’t notice how red Rumi got when you sat on her lap last night?”
You groan softly. “That wasn’t on purpose.”
“You say that,” Zoey replies, brushing a kiss behind your ear. “But you wiggled.”
“I was reaching for the popcorn.”
“You were grinding,” she whispers, all scandal and glee.
You want to argue, but the memory flares—her low, delighted laugh, Rumi’s hand on your hip helping steady you, Mira watching wide-eyed from the corner with flushed cheeks and bitten lips.
Zoey shifts, sliding her thigh more firmly between yours. Her breath is hot on your jaw now.
“They want you,” she murmurs, barely audible. “And it’s driving them crazy.”
You turn your head, your heart thudding. “Zo…”
Her hand slips under the blanket, smooth over your stomach. Not demanding—just there. Like a question.
“I love that you're mine,” she says softly. “That they want you and they can’t have you. Not unless I say so.”
Your breath catches.
“And what if you did?” you ask before you can stop yourself. The words hang there, warm and reckless.
She’s quiet for a long moment.
Then: “I might. If I get to watch you break them.”
You swallow. Hard.
She pulls back enough to look at you. Her smile isn’t playful anymore—it’s dark with want, her eyes half-lidded and glittering.
“I see how you look at them too,” she says. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
She’s not wrong. There’s something about Mira’s quiet intensity. Rumi’s soft voice and strong hands. You’ve caught yourself wondering before. Only now it’s different—because Zoey sees it. She sees everything.
The blanket shifts again. Her hand moves lower, resting just above the waistband of your sleep shorts.
“You want them?” she whispers, almost daring you.
Your lips part, but you don’t answer right away.
Not because you don’t know.
But because they’re still right there, asleep and peaceful. So close. Close enough to feel your breath on their skin if you reached out. Close enough to hear, if you were just a little louder.
And the thought makes your pulse thunder in your throat.
Zoey presses a kiss to your neck, then your jaw, then your lips.
“You don’t have to choose,” she whispers, “if you don’t want to.”
You turn your head slowly—Rumi stirs in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent and curling closer to Mira.
They don’t know what they’re waking up to yet.
But Zoey does.
And now, so do you.
Later that morning, the apartment is alive again—barely.
The four of you shuffle around the kitchen in various states of half-dressed domesticity: Zoey in one of your crop tops and tiny sleep shorts, Mira in a tank that keeps slipping off her shoulder, Rumi in her glasses and nothing but a soft hoodie that barely covers her thighs.
It’s hot. Not just the air—though the A/C isn’t cutting it—but the way Zoey keeps glancing at you over her shoulder as she stirs her iced coffee. The way she brushes past Rumi just a little too closely. The way Mira's eyes flick to your lips and then away like she’s punishing herself for even looking.
You sit on the counter, sipping slowly, bare legs swinging. Watching. Waiting.
Zoey turns toward the other two casually. “So. Can I ask something?”
Rumi looks up from her cereal. Mira freezes mid-sip.
“If I said I wanted you to tell me the truth,” Zoey begins, voice light but sharpened just at the edges, “would you?”
The kitchen goes still.
“About what?” Rumi asks, quiet, guarded.
Zoey shrugs. “About how you look at her.”
Your stomach flips.
“Zoey,” Mira says softly, pleading.
But Zoey’s eyes don’t leave them. “It’s not a trap. I’m not mad. I just... think we should all stop pretending.”
Rumi opens her mouth. Then shuts it. Mira’s fingers grip her glass tighter.
You hop off the counter. “Maybe now’s not—”
“No,” Zoey interrupts gently, stepping toward you, then turning to them again. “Now’s exactly when.”
She moves behind you, her arms looping loosely around your waist as she speaks.
“I see the way Mira lights up when she makes her laugh,” she says, chin resting on your shoulder. “And how Rumi always ends up finding reasons to touch her when she talks. You think I haven’t noticed that?”
“Zoey, we—” Rumi tries again.
Zoey shakes her head. “I’m not mad,” she repeats, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m curious. That’s all. I want to hear it.”
Silence.
Then—
“I like her.”
It’s Mira.
Small. Raw. Terrified.
“I didn’t mean to,” she adds quickly, as if to soften the blow. “It just… happened. And I know she’s yours. I’d never—”
“I do too,” Rumi says suddenly. Firm. Clear.
Zoey blinks.
Rumi swallows. “I’ve liked her for a long time. I just figured it wasn’t mine to say.”
You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Mira looks like she wants to vanish into the floor. Rumi’s shoulders are squared, but she’s not looking at you—she’s looking only at Zoey.
And Zoey?
She smiles.
Not cruelly. Not even smugly, this time.
Just… pleased.
“Thank you,” she says, softly. “That’s all I wanted.”
You’re still trying to find your voice when Zoey turns you around to face her fully.
She cups your jaw, brushing her thumb over your bottom lip.
“They said it,” she whispers. “So now I want you to say it too.”
Your breath catches. “Say what?”
“That you want them.”
It’s not a command. Not a demand. Just a challenge. A key.
And this time, you don’t hesitate.
“I do.”
There’s a beat of silence—and then Zoey kisses you.
Not soft. Not slow.
She kisses you like she’s been waiting for this moment. Like she knew this day would come and it’s finally here.
When she pulls back, her eyes are glowing.
“Well then,” she breathes, and turns back to her best friends.
You don’t even know who moves first—Mira’s hand touches your arm at the same time Rumi steps forward—but suddenly it’s all a blur of breathless noise and clumsy motion.
Mira’s lips brush yours—barely, trembling. You sigh into her mouth, pulling her closer.
Zoey laughs, behind you, low and hungry.
“Careful,” she purrs. “She’s sensitive.”
Rumi’s hand finds your hip. Her mouth brushes your neck, reverent. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
Zoey wraps an arm around both of you and grins at Mira.
“Well, babe,” she says, licking her lips. “Let’s break them in.”
__
The bedroom door shuts behind you with a click that sounds a little too loud for the way your heartbeat is already pounding. Sunlight filters through gauzy curtains, painting the room gold, warm, and slow.
Zoey backs you toward the bed with a grin on her lips and her fingers twined with yours.
“You good, baby?” she asks, even though she already knows. You’re flushed, shaky, and wide-eyed.
You nod. “Yeah. I just… can’t believe this is happening.”
She kisses you, soft and slow, and when she pulls back she murmurs against your lips, “Believe it. You’re mine—but tonight, you’re ours.”
Her voice is low and velvet smooth, and it makes Mira let out a tiny, audible exhale. She’s hovering just inside the doorway, unsure where to look, but her eyes keep sliding to your mouth. Rumi’s behind her, already tugging off her hoodie, her jaw tight with restraint.
Zoey steps back, hands on your shoulders, and gently pushes you down onto the bed. “Lay back, sweetheart.”
You do, sinking into the soft sheets as your breath quickens.
Zoey climbs in beside you, propped on her elbow. Rumi sits on the edge of the bed, hesitant, while Mira kneels next to your legs, eyes wide.
Zoey speaks first. “You two,” she says, voice smooth as wine, “can touch her. Just remember—she’s mine.”
Her words make heat pulse between your thighs. Rumi leans down first, brushing hair back from your face, her touch reverent.
“Can I kiss you?” she whispers.
“Yes,” you breathe.
Her lips are soft, cautious at first, but quickly deepen as your hand curls in her shirt. Her body leans over you, one hand resting just beside your head. When you moan against her mouth, she breaks away like she’s dazed.
“You taste like a dream,” she murmurs.
Zoey laughs, reaching to slide her fingers under your shirt. “Wait until you go lower.”
Mira lets out a shaky breath. “Zoey…”
Zoey turns her head, eyes gleaming. “Mira, baby. Take her shorts off.”
You feel your pulse crash. But Mira obeys—hands trembling slightly as she unbuttons them, slowly tugging them past your hips, your thighs, down your legs. She licks her lips as she takes you in, cheeks burning pink.
“She’s beautiful,” Mira whispers, almost to herself.
Zoey leans in and kisses your neck, her voice curling into your ear. “I want them both to see what I get to touch every night.”
Then her hand slides between your thighs, over your underwear, pressing just enough to make you arch with a whimper.
“She’s soaked,” Zoey announces smugly, and you want to bury your face in a pillow.
Instead, Rumi kisses down your jaw and across your collarbone. Mira’s hands tentatively slide up your calves, then your thighs, lips parted like she’s in awe.
Zoey hooks her fingers in your underwear. “Off.”
Rumi helps, slow and careful. And then you’re bare.
Exposed.
Wanted.
Mira is the first to lower her mouth to you—soft, hesitant licks that make you gasp and cling to the sheets. Zoey watches with an expression somewhere between hunger and pride.
“Good girl,” Zoey coos, stroking Mira’s hair as she works. “Make her come, baby.”
Mira groans softly, more confident now, tongue stroking deeper, faster. Rumi’s kissing your shoulder, then your chest, her hand cupping your breast through your shirt.
Zoey’s mouth finds yours again, open and claiming.
You’re surrounded. Warm hands, soft mouths, needy breaths.
Every touch belongs to you.
Every sound is for you.
Zoey keeps whispering in your ear: You’re doing so good. You’re ours tonight. You deserve all of it.
Your hips lift helplessly, thighs tightening around Mira’s head as you cry out her name. She moans into you, grip tightening on your hips as she brings you over the edge.
It hits hard—pleasure blooming sharp and bright, your whole body trembling.
You barely notice Zoey pulling Mira up, kissing her fiercely. “You taste like her,” she whispers. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
Rumi kisses you again, this time deeper, hungrier, and you feel her hand between your thighs, gently stroking the slick Mira left behind.
Zoey leans down, grinning. “Think you’re ready for round two?”
You’re already nodding.
And that’s when the night really begins.
__
You don’t know how long you’ve been floating—only that time doesn’t feel real anymore.
There’s a haze around everything: Mira’s lips on your thighs, Rumi’s hand stroking your hair, Zoey’s voice threading through the air like silk laced with lightning.
“You think she can take more?” Zoey asks, eyes dancing.
You’re already gasping, slick and trembling, your legs trying to close—but Zoey’s sitting between them, holding the vibe firmly against your clit while Mira kisses up your stomach and Rumi steadies your shaking hips.
“I think she’ll beg for more,” Mira says, her voice low and sure.
And you do. You don’t mean to, but it slips out in a broken moan. “Please…”
Zoey grins down at you, her free hand cradling your flushed cheek. “That’s my good girl.”
You’re overstimulated and nearly crying, your chest rising and falling like you ran a mile. You’ve already come twice, maybe three times—you’re not even sure anymore. The sheets are damp, your shirt has been discarded, and you’re completely bare beneath all of them.
Rumi’s voice is like velvet against your neck. “You’re doing so good, baby.”
Then Zoey says, casually, “Rumi. Strap.”
Your eyes widen.
Rumi doesn’t hesitate. She moves across the room, bends over Zoey’s drawer (of course she has one), and pulls out the harness and a sleek, curved silicone toy—medium sized, flushed pink, intimidating only in the context.
Zoey clicks the vibrator off at last, kissing the inside of your thigh as she shifts back. “You want it, baby?” she asks, fingers stroking your soaked folds gently. “You wanna be fucked while Mira plays with your pretty little clit again?”
You whimper. “Yes—please—Zoey, I—”
She shushes you softly. “Don’t worry. We’ve got you.”
Rumi straps in, and the way she looks at you while she rolls the waistband over her hips—steady, flushed, focused—makes your breath hitch all over again. There’s no teasing in her touch when she leans over you and lines herself up—only reverence.
She presses in slow, inch by inch, and you gasp, your hands scrabbling for something—someone—to hold onto.
Mira moves beside you again, mouth warm and wet against your breast now, one hand reaching between your legs to stroke circles as Rumi begins to thrust.
The stretch, the fullness, the weight of them all around you—it’s too much. It’s perfect.
Zoey lays beside you, brushing your sweat-damp hair back, murmuring praise between kisses.
“So perfect for us.”
“You take it so well.”
“God, I love you like this.”
You come again, with a sob and a gasp, your body arching helplessly. You’re still pulsing when Rumi stills inside you, panting, her face buried in your shoulder.
When it’s over, the room quiets.
You’re limp. Spent. Floating in the warm hum of overstimulated nerves and afterglow.
Zoey’s the one who lifts you gently, guiding you to lay half on top of her chest while Mira cleans you up with a warm cloth, careful and tender.
“Hey,” Zoey whispers, cupping your cheek. “Too much?”
You shake your head slowly. “No. Never.”
Rumi returns from the bathroom and crawls into the other side of the bed, pulling the comforter up over you all.
There’s no more need for teasing.
Just soft arms, warm skin, and quiet breathing.
Mira curls behind you, one arm draped over your waist. Rumi tucks against Zoey, her fingers brushing lightly over your arm. Zoey holds you in the middle of it all—hers, always—but now shared.
Not taken.
Given.
Cherished.
You yawn into her shoulder and feel a kiss pressed to your hair.
“So,” she murmurs, teasing but lazy, “are we gonna talk about how everyone’s obsessed with my girlfriend?”
You groan, but you’re smiling.
Rumi chuckles. “I think that’s your fault, honestly.”
Mira whispers, “Maybe. But thank you.”
Zoey grins.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she says, voice already fading into a soft hum. “We’re not done spoiling her.”
You fall asleep to the sound of their breathing. Safe. Loved.
And theirs.

hello??? im 100 away from 500 followers which is actually INSANE. when we reach there i wanna do something special for my pookies, im just not sure what yet.
requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist, @etcherrie
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#rumi x reader#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#kpop demon hunters smut#kpdh x reader#mira x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#kpdh x you#zoey x you#rumi x you#mira x you#zoey x reader#huntrix smut#kpdh smut#wlw smut#lesbian smut#kdph#polytrix x reader
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MasterList



KPDH
SFW:
Siren's Stage Series
Oni!fem reader x Huntrix
Demon!Reader - When God's Burn, Ch1
DemiGod!Reader:
Poseidon
Apollo
Artemis
Aphrodite
Heremes
Yandere:
1, 2
Rumi:
Steamy Makeout
Tatted!Reader Makeout
Masc Reader
Yes, Chef
Mira:
Actress!Reader x Mira
Zoey:
Too Shy
Singer!Reader:
TateMcRae!Reader x Huntrix
SabrinaCarpenter!Reader x Huntrix
MLPsinger!Reader x Huntrix
demon!idol!reader x Huntrix
Katseye!Reader x Huntrix
Polytrix:
Angst, Angst 2 + Part 2,
Barista!Reader
Guitarist!Reader
GetoSuguru!Reader
Fluff
Jealousy

Saja Boys:
Sweet Like Summer
Baby:
Doll!Reader x baby
American!Reader x baby

NSFW:
Rumi:
Claim What's Mine
rival!idol!reader x rumi
Angry Smash
g!pRumi x reader
Mira:
G!P Mira x Reader, Part 2, Part 3
g!p Mira
Bottom!Mira
Zoey:
BillieEilish!Reader x Zoey
FlightAttendant!Reader
Polytrix:
Your Light Found Me
SabrinaCarpenter!Reader x Huntrix
Rumi & Mira x Reader
Heat
RookieIdol!Reader x Huntrix
g!pHuntrix (seperate) x reader
Yandere:
"Escape"
Demon!Huntrix
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters smut#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#rumi x reader#mira x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#zoey x reader#rumi x you#mira x you#zoey x you#yandere polytrix#yandere rumi#yandere mira#yandere zoey#yandere#kpdh angst#attempted angst#julie and the phantoms#angst#percy jackson cabins#percy jackson#k pop demon hunters#demon reader#demigods#kdph#kpop
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I've really been loving your Greek god crossover stuff! I you want to could you please write about a daughter of Hermes being a speedster troll/trickster with huntrix :p
daughter of hades x huntrix up next? 👀

It’s just past midnight.
A red spot pulses on the roof of a luxury department store, barely visible to humans. Huntrix is in place—disguised as a rooftop dance crew filming a video collab to avoid suspicion.
Zoey adjusts her mic. "Looks like demon activity is swirling behind the LED billboard.”
Rumi nods, sword disguised as a mic stand.
Mira checks the pulse of the Honmoon overhead. “One mid-tier demon pushing through. We’re purging and out in ten.”
They’ve done this dozens of times. Quiet. Efficient. Human-free.
Too bad tonight’s guest star is chaos in sneakers.
But just like that, a gust of wind pushes past them with a loud WHOOSH.
A flash of motion streaks through the sky—silver blur, wind-blasted confetti, and then—
CRASH.
A girl lands in the middle of their formation, sending Mira’s mic stand flying and knocking Rumi into a crate of light sticks.
She stands, brushing glitter off her hoodie, and grins.
“Hi! Sorry I’m late. I thought this was rooftop yoga.”
Zoey blinks. “Who… are you?”
“Tourist,” Reader lies instantly. “With… enthusiasm.”
She then immediately picks up a glowing sigil stone, sniffs it, and licks it.
Mira gasps. “That’s a demon marker!”
“Really?” Reader pauses. “Tastes like battery acid and paprika.”
Of course, licking the cursed object activates it. A huge pulse rips across the rooftop.
The billboard goes dark.
The weak spot tears open.
A long-legged, spiderlike demon pulls itself through the seal, snarling.
“You absolute stranger, get behind us!” Zoey yells, rushing to get Infront of her.
Reader raises an eyebrow. “Hard pass.”
Another whoosh goes by.
She’s gone. Just gone. Then reappears crouched on the demon’s back, tapping its head.
“Hey, do demons have ears?”
SLAP.
She zips off again, vanishes up a vent, then zooms down the billboard with a slapstick
Mira chokes back a laugh. Rumi is too stunned to stab. Zoey looks physically ill.
“This isn’t protocol,” Zoey mutters.
“Nope,” Mira says, smiling. “But I’m kind of into it.”
Reader doesn’t fight the demon so much as annoy it to death.
She unlaces its joints. She steals its enchanted spine gem. She throws confetti in its multiple eyes. She makes fun of its breath.
When it finally collapses, Reader zips up next to Huntrix, eating a hotteok she “borrowed” from the street vendor downstairs.
“Y’all do this every night? Or is this a Monday thing?”
__
Zoey stares with a confused smile, “We still don’t know your name.”
“I know. That’s the fun part.” Reader shrugs
“You’re not… human, are you?” Mira asks, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.
“Define human,” Reader replies, then blinks away again—just a blur disappearing down the side of the building.
Rumi steps forward in the direction Reader left in. “Should we stop her?”
Zoey blinks. “Could we?”
Above them, the Honmoon pulses again. Another weak spot looms in the distance.
And someone—someone very fast and very smug—is already headed there first.

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist, @etcherrie, @ludwigvonbaethoven
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#rumi x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#mira x reader#zoey x reader#percy jackson cabins#percy jackson#hermes#greek gods#greek mythology#kpdh
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Hiii, thought, yandere polytrix coming back from tour or something and seeing their lovely lover just gone? Like they fucking escape? But here’s the kicker, the lover is pregnant? So… your thoughts?
the amount of requests i got for this exact prompt is kinda crazy. yall are like always on the same wave length LOL
also keep the requests coming! i'm tryna get through to them all - albeit a lil slower than i expected. I'll also be posting a little less this week cuz period cramps have me incapacitated but i won't leave yall hanging!

They come home to silence.
It isn’t right.
Not when they’ve spent three agonizing months away—filming, performing, smiling for cameras with aching jaws and hearts. Every second without you was like a burn beneath their skin, the phantom memory of your touch driving them to madness at night. They’d counted down the hours until they could breathe you in again.
So when the elevator doors slide open and all that greets them is emptiness, stillness, cold, Zoey’s instincts go rigid.
She doesn’t even take her shoes off. Just drops her designer duffel to the marble floor and calls your name like a spell.
“Babe? We’re home!” She says in a cheery tone.
Silence.
Her niceness starts to disappear. “Reader? Where’s my hello kiss?”
Still nothing.
Mira is next. She enters with slower steps, eyes narrowing as she surveys the untouched foyer. “No scent,” she murmurs. “No fresh candles. No bath running. She always does that when we’re gone.”
Rumi walks straight through the tension like it doesn’t affect her, though her jaw twitches ever so slightly.
You’re always here. You always wait.
She knows before she reaches the bedroom.
The moment her hand lands on the doorframe, she sees the half-open closet. The drawers left gaping like broken teeth. The absence of your suitcase. No shoes. No silk robes draped over the chair.
Nothing.
“She’s gone,” Rumi says coldly.
Mira shakes her head. “Don’t say that.”
“She ran.”
“No. She can’t—we made sure, we—” Zoey starts checking the locks, the cameras, the damn tracking apps they thought were discreet. Her voice begins to rise, a pitch of sheer disbelief. “That’s not fucking possible!”
The staff had been instructed. The surveillance was encrypted. Your schedule was managed down to the hour. You weren’t supposed to leave.
“Where the fuck is she?” Zoey seethes.
And then Mira sees it.
Sitting quietly on the edge of the vanity like a cruel joke.
A white plastic stick. Faintly pink.
Positive.
For a long, painful moment, no one breathes.
Rumi moves first. She picks it up with two fingers like it’s fragile glass and turns it slowly in her palm. Her expression doesn’t change.
“We were going to surprise her with the baby room,” Mira whispers. “I ordered lavender and white. She said she always wanted lavender.”
“She took our baby.” Rumi says it so softly it’s almost reverent.
Then her eyes snap to Zoey. “Find her.”
__
You didn’t plan on being pregnant when you left.
But in a way… it made things easier.
You’d felt the nausea for a week. Brushed it off. Thought it was nerves, exhaustion, another trick of your mind trapped in that soft, suffocating luxury suite they called a home.
But when the second test confirmed it, something broke free inside you.
Because if it were just you? Maybe you could’ve stayed. Played along longer. Let them love you in the way they thought was love—tight, possessive, smothering. But not like this. Not now.
You couldn’t raise a child in that kind of golden cage.
You couldn’t let them own someone else the way they tried to own you.
So you waited. Memorized their tour dates. Talked sweetly into their voicemails. Smiled in the videos they requested. Waited for the staff to rotate shifts. Waited for the driver to step away from the keys.
And then you ran.
You cut your hair. You changed your name. You disappeared from Seoul like a shadow at sunrise.
You’ve made it three weeks.
You live in a tiny fishing town near the coast now. The locals are quiet. You rent a one-bedroom above an apothecary, and the old woman downstairs only speaks to you to offer tea and ask about the baby.
You lie and say you’re single. Widowed. Not that it matters.
You spend most nights curled up with your hand pressed to your belly. Not showing yet, but you feel it—that fragile spark of life, fluttering like wings.
They’ll come looking for it.
For you.
But maybe—just maybe—you can stay hidden long enough to give your child a real life. A safe life.
You hope.
God, you hope.
But hope isn’t enough.
Not when Mira has contacts in every province, charming smiles and vicious eyes behind closed doors.
Not when Zoey hacks into hospital databases at 2 a.m., checking every prenatal visit in the country.
Not when Rumi hasn’t slept in four days, redrawing the memory of your scent from her dreams, whispering mantras like spells:
“We’re not mad at you. We just want you back. We’ll forgive you if you come home. You’re scared. You’re tired. You need us.”
When Mira finds the security cam clip—just a blur of you at a gas station, hood pulled low—Zoey screams.
When Rumi finds the town, three days later, and walks into the apothecary, the old woman smiles.
“Oh! You’re her cousin, aren’t you? You finally made it!”
Rumi smiles too. Her teeth are too sharp.
“Yes. I’m family.”
You know before she knocks.
You feel it in your chest like a thunderclap.
The hair rises on your arms. The wind stills. The air shifts.
Then—three quiet taps at the door.
You don’t answer.
You just gather your bag—already packed. Your shoes. The burner phone. Your trembling breath.
You open the back window and start to climb.
But she’s already there.
Rumi.
Standing barefoot in the alley like she knew you’d try this. Dressed in soft pastels, her eyes glowing.
She doesn’t move to grab you.
She just speaks, calm and sweet, like nothing’s wrong.
“Where were you going, angel?”
You freeze.
She tilts her head.
“You know you shouldn’t be running. It’s not good for the baby.”
You flinch.
“Oh, you thought we wouldn’t find out?” Her voice stays smooth, lilting. “You thought you could leave and take part of us with you?”
“I’m not your prisoner,” you whisper.
Her smile fades.
“You’re not our prisoner,” she repeats slowly. “You’re our heart. Our family. And you just left.”
Tears sting your eyes.
“I had to protect them.”
“We were going to protect all of you,” she says, stepping forward now. “We were going to give you everything. You ruined it.”
And that’s when Zoey appears behind her. Mira too.
You didn’t even hear the car.
You step back toward the fire escape, ready to leap if you have to, but—
“Don’t,” Mira says softly. Her voice breaks. “Please don’t run again.”
You hesitate.
Zoey watches you like a hawk, her hands twitching.
“You’re coming home. Whether you want to or not.”
And maybe you do scream. Maybe you do fight. Maybe the whole alley turns red with sirens and shouts in your head.
But in the end—
You’re in their arms again.
And they press their hands to your stomach like it’s sacred.
You bloom in the dark.
Even locked away again.
Even with soft kisses that taste like cages.
Even with lullabies sung to a belly that grows by the day.
Because now you know.
You’ll never stop running.
Even if it’s only in your mind.
Because someday—
You’ll teach your child how to run, too.
And this time, you’ll make it.
You swear.

hello??? im 100 away from 500 followers which is actually INSANE. when we reach there i wanna do something special for my pookies, im just not sure what yet.
requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpop demon hunters smut#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#rumi x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#mira x reader#zoey x reader#yandere polytrix#yandere rumi#yandere mira#yandere#yandere zoey
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can i do an idol reader and polytrix at an award show?? maybe the saja boys are sat next to reader and polytrix gets jealoussss 😋

You looked like a dream tonight, dressed in a shimmering pastel designer gown that hugged you just right, the kind that made headlines and fan edits before you even sat down. Countless flashbulbs had already gone off outside, your name trending before the night had even begun.
And of course, Huntrix—your girlfriends—were each glowing beside you. Rumi in black lace and crimson lips, Zoey in that chic all-white jumpsuit that made her look like danger personified, and Mira? A delicate icy blue silk that only made her glares hit colder.
Because, unfortunately for them, the Saja Boys were seated directly beside you. And they were friendly.
“Oh, Reader, congrats on your world tour,” Jinu said with a dazzling smile, leaning just a bit too close. “Your stage presence is unreal—seriously.”
“Thanks,” you replied sweetly, completely unaware of how Mira’s grip on her wine glass tightened.
Romance chimed in too, flashing dimples. “I still can’t get over your collab stage with Huntrix. You really dominated the stage the other night.”
Zoey’s perfectly arched brow twitched. Subtly. Menacingly.
You giggled, brushing a curl behind your ear. “You guys are too kind. I’m just lucky I get to perform with such amazing girls.”
Rumi’s hand slid over your thigh beneath the table, slow and possessive. You didn’t miss the sharp look she shot toward Jinu—less smile, more teeth.
The cameras caught all the smiles and laughter above the table. They didn’t catch Zoey’s hand slipping into yours beneath the tablecloth, or the way Mira leaned in close enough to whisper in your ear.
“Keep charming them and I might have to kiss you on stage.”
You blinked. “W-What?”
“Let them know who you belong to.”
The lights dimmed for the next performance, but you barely noticed. Not with your girlfriends sitting so close, their touches not-so-accidental, and their jealousy deliciously obvious.
You smiled to yourself.
This award show just got interesting.

hello??? im 100 away from 500 followers which is actually INSANE. when we reach there i wanna do something special for my pookies, im just not sure what yet.
requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#kpop demon hunters headcanons#rumi x reader#kpdh x you#mira x reader#zoey x reader#jealousy#polytrix x reader#polytr/x#polytrix#k pop demon hunters
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Love your stuff. Would you do gp!Kpop demon hunter girlies coming too early? Like they stick their dick in the reader, immediately lost it, and get all embarrassed
LOL
g!pHuntrix (seperate) x reader
18+ as it contains smut

Rumi:
Your lips were swollen from kissing. Her hands trembled as she gripped your thighs, spreading them wide on her lap.
“I’ve imagined this a thousand times,” she confessed in a whisper. “Planned how slow I’d take you…”
But when she pushed inside?
Her body betrayed her.
Rumi choked on a moan, muscles locking up as her hips jerked once, twice—then she spilled hard, deep and sudden, moaning shamefully into your neck as she came immediately.
“…fuck.”
She froze. Didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“…Did you just—?”
“I didn’t mean to.” Her voice cracked—cracked. “You’re so—warm, gods, I…”
You blinked at her.
Then smirked. “That’s cute. But you’re not tapping out.”
You clenched around her, and she gasped.
“You’re gonna give me everything, Rumi. That was just the start.”

Mira:
“God, baby, I’m gonna ruin you—”
Her chest puffed, abs tensing as she slid inside you with a groan. She was grinning, mouthing off about how she was going to wreck you, how you’d be begging in minutes.
But then—
Mira made a strangled noise. Her grin shattered.
“Oh, f—ck—”
Before you could blink, her body convulsed and she spilled everything in the first few seconds, thrusts faltering, breath ragged and pathetic.
She collapsed onto you, moaning into your neck.
You were speechless.
“…Are you crying?”
“No!” she barked, cheeks red. “Shut up—don’t laugh—I’m not crying, you just—feel too good!”
You burst out laughing.
She whined.
“I swear, give me five minutes. I’m gonna make you forget that ever happened. I’m still a demon hunter. I can go all night. Just—just don’t tell Zoey.”

Zoey:
You were trembling under her, but not from fear. From want. From need. And Zoey—who always put everyone else first—finally let herself take.
She lined herself up, moving slow, reverent. She was whispering promises into your neck—how she’d take her time, how she wouldn’t hurt you, how this was going to be everything you deserved.
But the moment she slipped inside, all that restraint shattered.
Her body jerked against yours, every muscle locking. A shocked gasp ripped from her chest. And then— a hot rush, deep inside you, her hips twitching as she came right then and there.
“F—fuck, no. No, no, I didn’t—!”
She looked stricken. Humiliated. Her hands flew to your hips like she meant to pull away.
“I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to—god,"
You stared at her, half-shocked, half breathless.
“…You came already?” you asked, stunned.
Her face burned.
She nodded once, ashamed. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to do that inside. I just—you're so warm, and I wanted you so bad, and my body just—”
You placed a hand on her chest.
“Zoey.”
She shut up instantly.
“I know you didn’t mean to. It’s okay.”
Her brows pulled tight, voice barely a whisper. “…You’re not mad?”
You leaned up, lips brushing her ear.
“I’m only mad if you’re done.”
That broke her.
She let out a breathless, broken laugh, dropping her forehead to your shoulder.
“I’m not done,” she swore, voice trembling. “I just lost control. But I’ll make it up to you. I promise, I’ll do it right.”

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji, @homo-arsonist
#kpop demon hunters#huntrix x reader#kpop demon hunters x reader#kpdh x reader#kpop demon hunters smut#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#kpdh x you#rumi x reader#mira x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#zoey x reader#kpdm#g!p kpdh#huntrix smut#kpdh smut
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Yes, Chef
At Étoile Noire, Seoul’s most prestigious five-star restaurant, chaos in the kitchen is the norm—but nothing rattles Head Chef Rumi. She’s sharp, commanding, and completely in control. You’re just a server trying to survive the storm. After another whirlwind dinner service, you finally ask the question that’s been sitting on your tongue all night: “Are you always this bossy?”
Her reply? Smirking, effortless, and enough to leave you breathless: “Do you want me to be bossy outside the kitchen?”
Rumi x fem!reader

The kitchen at Étoile Noire was loud. Clanging pans, sizzling oil, knives on boards, and the staccato rhythm of tension about to boil over.
But above it all—Chef Rumi's voice.
“NO. That’s a chiffonade, not shredded cabbage. Do you want me to personally embarrass you on the floor?”
A flinch. A desperate apology. The prep cook redoubled his efforts.
Rumi spun on her heel, stalking past the pastry station. “If the ganache doesn’t shine, it doesn’t go out. I want to see my reflection in it, or you’re redoing it—understood?”
"Yes, Chef!"
You walked in just in time to catch that last part, ducking your head to hide a smirk as you slipped past the line toward your tray station.
Rumi’s voice rang out again, sharp and clear: “You! Runner! Do you think the cod is going to teleport itself to Table 7?” The poor kid bolted across the kitchen, nearly colliding with a tray of soufflés. Rumi didn’t even blink.
You kept your movements clean, practiced. By now, you knew how to float through the storm without drawing her laser focus. Most days, anyway.
But tonight felt different. Her energy was electric, her irritation fine-tuned. She was barking orders like a war general, sleeves rolled up, fire in her eyes, heat on her cheeks.
And god, was it attractive.
She turned toward you then, eyes flicking briefly to your empty hands.
“Why are you standing still?” she asked, voice low but sharp.
“I was waiting for Table 9’s mains to come up—”
“Well now you’re waiting and talking back. You multitask like that on the floor too?”
You bit back a grin. “What can I say, I like a challenge.”
Rumi blinked. For half a second, you thought you saw her lip twitch. But she was already turning away.
“Plates up in two. Stay sharp.”
You exhaled slowly, then went to retrieve your tray.
Half an hour later, the dinner rush had cooled. The kitchen was still noisy, but more subdued—focused.
You returned with another empty tray and leaned subtly against the prep counter, watching her. She was arranging microgreens with surgical precision, brow furrowed, that same determined scowl on her lips.
She didn't notice you watching at first. Not until she spoke again to her sous-chef, sharp and commanding: “No. Recut the scallops. They’re uneven. I don’t send out sloppy.”
Then she looked up—directly at you.
You raised an eyebrow, voice casual but teasing. “Are you always this bossy?”
The corner of her mouth twitched.
She set the plating tweezers down slowly. Took a step closer.
“Do you want me to be bossy outside the kitchen?”
Your breath caught.
She was standing in front of you now, close enough for her warmth to brush yours, her tone low and deliberate.
You opened your mouth—no clever comeback came.
Just heat.
And her smirk deepened, slow and knowing.
“Didn’t think so,” she murmured, brushing past you as the bell dinged for another order.

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac, @allaji
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpop demon hunters smut#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#rumi x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#kpop#kpdh#rumi x you#rumi kdh#kpdh au#k pop demon hunters#huntrix
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Have you seen jujutsu kaisen if so can you do suguru reader where she is fighting demon with her curse or her weapon to destroy the curse with her own curse that she sallows down that would be cool or can you do gojo reader if you want
this is rlly funny cuz i just got another request for a geto!reader too. I'm kinda loosely going off the request and following more of the jjk 0 timeline but in the huntrix world if that makes sense lol

It was supposed to be a simple patrol. An abandoned building. No signs of a major breach in the Honmoon. The Higher ups and Celine insisted it was nothing. A few demons at best. Rumi had a press interview. Mira was with Zoey in Daegu checking a large breech in the Honmoon. That left you, and three trainees — kids. The possible candidates for future hunters.
But you’d handled worse before. You could handle it now.
“Stay close. Don’t engage unless I say.” You’d warned them, voice like iron.
They nodded. They trusted you. Yuna- the one who had stuck to your side like glue gave you a smile.
You remember the smell first — burned ozone and blood. Then came the heat. The wrong kind. The kind that meant something old was here. Something that never should’ve been free.
The moment you stepped inside, the door vanished. Then the screaming started.
You fought like hell. Shielded them. Screamed for backup. None came.
And when it finally retreated, laughing through smoke, you were kneeling in blood-soaked dust, cradling Yuna’s small, broken body. Her hand twitched once — reached for her belt, where the Huntrix pin gleamed uselessly.
“Did I… do okay?” she rasped.
You lied. You said she was brave. She smiled and died.
__
You filed the report. You told the truth.
You begged them to investigate the anomaly. You said, "We were lied to. It could've been an army of demons. The girls couldn't have done anything, they didn't even have proper weapons."
They responded three days later.
“Mission concluded. All outcomes within acceptable loss margin.”
No names were mentioned. Not even Yuna's.
__
You sat alone in the rain that night, watching the city lights blur into a sea of nothing.
People laughed under umbrellas. A couple kissed at a crosswalk. A little girl sang to her phone.
None of them knew. None of them knew.
And that's when you heard it.
"They don’t deserve you."
You jolted upright, fists clenched.
“Who’s there?”
"They forget your name before you even leave the room." "How many more will you lose before you see it?"
You should have fought it. You should have pushed it out.
But instead… you listened.
And the rain kept falling.
__
Zoey’s voice cut through the sterile meeting room air. Bright. Focused. Sharp.
"We’re headed to Gongdeok. Breech above a huge construction zone. Tear doesn't look huge — should be a one-and-done.”
You didn’t respond. Just nodded.
Mira leaned in beside you, whispering gently.
“You okay? You haven’t said much since… y’know.”
You turned to her. She meant well. You knew that. But she hadn't been there. She didn’t see Yuna choking on her own blood, pupils blown wide with terror. She didn’t hear the Council call it “acceptable.”
“I’m fine,” you said. Lie number two.
The subway station was shut down. Empty. Cold. Quiet.
But underneath — in the unfinished tunnels — something pulsed. A wrongness. Familiar now, in a way it shouldn’t be.
“Something’s off,” you murmured, stepping ahead.
Rumi flanked you, sword out. “Yeah, no kidding. There's tears everywhere in the Honmoon but no demon."
You found the demon in the concrete hollow of an elevator shaft — a spindly thing with a head too wide and a chest that opened like a mouth. It wasn’t powerful, but it was clever.
“Little flowers,” it crooned. “They screamed so pretty. Your last one — mmm. Pink blood.”
You moved without thinking.
In one strike, you pinned it. Another, and it should’ve been dead.
But it wasn’t.
It laughed, even impaled.
And something inside you… hesitated.
“Kill it,” Rumi barked. “Now.”
But you didn’t move. You stared at it. Felt the way its demonic energy pulsed around your weapon — not in defiance, but in surrender. Like it was offering itself to you.
“You don’t have to throw me away,” it hissed. “You could command me. Twist me. I’ll serve.”
“Kill it!” Zoey’s voice cracked. “Don’t you dare—”
You stepped forward. You didn't kill it.
You branded it.
A binding sigil — your own design — flared against the demon’s chest. It howled as it shrank, twisted into an orb of black smoke that hovered obediently in your palm.
Silence.
Zoey’s breath caught.
“What the hell did you just do?”
You stared down at the orb.
“It’s mine now,” you said softly. “We don’t always have to destroy them. We can… learn from them.”
Rumi shoved past you. “That’s not how we do things.”
Mira looked at you like she didn’t recognize your face.
“What are you trying to prove?” she asked.
You opened your mouth. But you didn’t know how to explain it. That the higher-ups didn’t care. That the world was rotting under their feet and no one saw it. That Yuna screamed, and no one came.
That this — controlling the demons instead of slaying them — finally made you feel powerful.
So you just turned away.
“I got results,” you muttered. “Isn’t that what they want?”
That night you stood on the rooftop, fingers curled around the orb. It pulsed gently in your palm like a heartbeat.
Below, the city lights danced. Innocent. Stupid. Unaware.
“They will never understand you,” It whispered again, smoke curling near your ear. “But I do.” “You’re becoming worthy.”
You didn’t tell the girls about the whisper. You didn’t tell them that it felt good.
__ Timeskip __
Zoey lands in front of you — out of breath, but eyes blazing. Her silver-streaked hair whips in the wind, mask half-torn. Her gloves are scorched, her chest rising fast.
“It’s not too late,” she says. “Please, listen to me.”
You laugh — not cruel, just tired.
“You always say that. You always think everything can be fixed with enough optimism.”
“Because we’re family—!”
“No,” you cut in. “We were co-workers with matching outfits.”
She flinches. You look past her.
“Where’s Rumi?”
“Right behind you.”
Rumi stands silently, sword already drawn. Her face is wet. From rain? Or tears?
“I begged them not to send us,” she says. “I begged them to send anyone else.”
You smile faintly. “But they sent Huntrix. Of course they did.”
“You’ve crossed a line,” Mira says quietly as she arrives, flanking the others.
“You’ve almost shattered the Honmoon. Something we've fought so hard for. You’ve tethered hundreds of demons to one leyline. That’ll kill everyone within ten kilometers.”
“Only the weak,” you reply.
Your voice is calm now. Confident. Whole.
“The world doesn’t deserve protection if it doesn’t even know it’s being protected. We risk our lives for a public that thinks we’re just pretty girls on a stage.”
You lift your hand — and the shadows respond.
Dozens of demons materialize behind you in perfect formation: snarling, bound, loyal. Controlled by you. Some wear cracked masks with the Huntrix sigil burned into them. Some wear faces that look eerily human.
“I’m creating a world where truth replaces illusion. Where we stop dying for people who never cared if we lived.”
“You sound just like him,” Zoey whispers.
You tilt your head.
“Like who?”
“Gwi-Ma.”
You stare. “I surpassed him months ago.”
The city rumbles. Huntrix moves as one. And for a moment — you miss that rhythm. That synchronicity. The elegance of four hearts beating as one.
But that moment passes.
You fight like wildfire. Demons crash like waves. You dodge Mira’s Cheolyeomchu, counter Rumi’s sword, and almost hesitate when Zoey lunges with her hands bare, screaming your name — not your codename. Your real one.
But the hesitation vanishes when Rumi slashes your back open. And you finally unleash everything.
The fight doesn't take long.
But to you, it lasts a lifetime.
In the final moment, you're kneeling. Bloodied. Surrounded. But not afraid.
Your demons are gone — shattered. Dispelled.
You can barely breathe. But you smile through cracked lips.
“You did it,” you whisper. “Congratulations, Huntrix.”
Zoey is shaking. Rumi can’t even look at you.
Only Mira steps forward — weapon sheathed. Her eyes wet.
“Why did you make us do this?”
You meet her gaze.
“Because you only listened after I made you afraid.”
You close your eyes and lean back, arms open.
“Do it.”
Zoey is the one who steps forward.
“I loved you,” she whispers.
You smile one last time.
“I know.”
The city is eerily quiet.
The Honmoon is sealed. The demons are gone. Civilians never even knew how close they came to their soul's being taken — protected by the very people they never knew existed.
And at the edge of the shattered rooftop, surrounded by burning sigils and dust in the air, you lie broken.
Your body is ruined. Your legs don’t move. Blood pools under you, slow and dark.
But you’re smiling.
Not because you won — you didn’t. But because you got far enough.
They had to kill you to stop you. That means you mattered.

was hard to stay with jjk 0 timeline while also making it kpdh lol so I had to add stuff in.
requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#rumi x reader#mira x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#kdph#mira x you#zoey x reader#zoey x you#rumi x you#kdh x reader#kpdh angst#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu geto#geto suguru#geto!reader#jjk#jjk 0#jjk 0 movie#kpdh x jjk
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Heyoooo!
Might I humbly request a smut for Zoey between her and the flightattendantXreader who is regularly with them. It's been a flirtation that's been brewing for a while and they finally join the mile high club in the bathroom
Bonus points for round/part 2 where they go back to the reader's room or Zoeys after a concert, and they get found out by a fan
yur
also i saw someone ask me what i would and wouldnt write kink wise and im pretty open to writing most things. Private message me if you have stuff in mind and ill lyk.
18+ as it contains smut

Flying with celebrities wasn’t new to you.
But flying with Zoey — that was something else entirely.
It was just her this time. A sleek, overnight flight from Tokyo back to Seoul on a luxury private jet. You were the sole flight attendant onboard. Her team had flown commercial ahead of her to give her space. Privacy. Peace.
Except peace was the last thing on your mind.
You’d served her sparkling water twenty minutes ago, brushing your fingers over hers as you handed over the glass. She’d looked up at you over the rim of her sunglasses, mouth quirking up, voice all silk.
“You always this gentle, or am I special?”
You gave her a smooth smile. “Depends. Are you behaving?”
Zoey leaned back, pulling her hoodie down a little, her bare collarbone glinting under the cabin lights. “Not even close.”
Your breath caught.
This wasn’t new — the teasing had been simmering since her first flight with you three months ago. Long stares. Lingering touches. Whispered jokes when no one was looking. You never crossed the line… but the line kept getting thinner.
And tonight? It was invisible.
You came back with her tea, setting it on the little marble table beside her reclining seat.
“Anything else, Ms. Zoey?” you asked, tone a little lower.
She tilted her head, eyes trailing over you openly now — your blazer, your thighs, the way your heels clicked on the cabin carpet. Her lip curled.
“You always call me that,” she murmured. “Makes me sound so innocent.”
“Would you prefer ma’am?”
Her brows rose.
There was a pause — the soft hum of the engines, the dim, golden lighting casting shadows between you. Her gaze dropped to your lips.
“How long until we hit cruising altitude?” she asked.
“We already have.” You leaned in just enough to be bold. “And the seatbelt signs are off.”
Her eyes flicked up to yours. “Good.”
And then — with no warning, no hesitation — she stood, took your hand, and walked past you toward the bathroom at the back of the jet.
No words.
Just the sound of the lock clicking behind you.
__
Zoey was on you in a heartbeat.
Her hands slid up your thighs, under your skirt, gripping and pulling you against her as her mouth crashed into yours. She kissed like she was starving — needy, hot, lips parted and tasting every inch of you.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” she breathed, as you gasped against her. “Every time you passed me with that tray? I was imagining bending you over it.”
Her words made you moan, and she took full advantage, licking into your mouth as she pushed your blazer off your shoulders and let it fall.
She turned you toward the mirror and pressed her front to your back, grinding her hips against your ass as her hands slid down, bunching your skirt at your waist.
“No panties?” she murmured, fingers brushing between your thighs.
You shuddered. “Just a thong.”
Zoey smirked, kissed the nape of your neck, and hooked it to the side, baring your heat to the cool air.
“Perfect.”
She sank to her knees behind you, pushing your leg up slightly on the small counter, and kissed the back of your thigh.
“Hold on to the mirror, baby.”
And then she devoured you.
Her mouth was heaven — lips and tongue working your soaked core like she knew exactly how to unmake you. She moaned into you, licking a long, slow stripe before focusing right on your clit, circling and flicking with maddening precision.
You cried out, biting your hand, eyes fluttering shut as you pressed your hips into her face.
“Z-Zoey—fuck, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” she said, voice wrecked and proud. “Come on, baby. Let me taste it.”
She added two fingers, sliding them in with that perfect curl, and your body broke — hips stuttering, thighs shaking, breath caught in your throat as you came hard, dripping down her fingers and tongue.
She held you through it, kissing and licking you gently through the waves.
When you finally turned around, dazed and flushed, she was already standing, licking her fingers clean.
“Holy shit,” you gasped.
Zoey smirked. “You tasted better than I imagined.”
Your legs were trembling and you went to pull up your skirt.
Zoey spun and sat down on the closed toilet lid, spreading her legs and patting her thigh.
“Not done just yet, baby."
Your breath caught.
You climbed onto her thigh slowly — one leg on either side of her — settling right over the firm muscle of her jeans. Her hoodie bunched between you as you braced your hands on her shoulders.
She grabbed your hips, guiding you.
“Just like that,” she whispered.
You rolled your hips once — slow, testing — and the friction made your jaw drop. The pressure was perfect, the tension maddening. Your soaked center dragged against her thigh as Zoey flexed her muscle beneath you.
“Shit,” you whimpered. “You feel—so fucking good—”
Zoey bit her lip, her voice low and dark. “Keep going. Make a mess, baby. I want it.”
You moved faster, grinding in smooth circles, one of her hands sliding under your blouse, fingers brushing over your bra and teasing your nipple through the lace. Her other hand stayed on your ass, gripping tightly, keeping your rhythm steady.
Your moans filled the small space. The soft sounds of your wetness soaking her jeans made Zoey groan.
“Look at you,” she murmured, “riding me like it’s all you’ve wanted for weeks.”
“It is,” you panted, fingers digging into her shoulders. “I—Zoey—fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” she growled, lips brushing your ear. “Right here. Come all over my thigh, baby.”
That pushed you over.
Your body tensed, grinding down hard as your orgasm took you — eyes shut, mouth open in a silent cry, pleasure pulsing through you while Zoey kissed your jaw and held you close, letting you ride it out.
After a moment, you sagged against her, sweaty and breathless.
Zoey grinned, still holding your waist.
“Damn,” she whispered. “You really were counting on this.”
You laughed, pressing your face into her neck. “I ruined your pants.”
She tilted her hips up a little, flexing her thigh again so you hissed softly.
"I guess that just means you owe me another one."
__
Later that night, after the lights faded and the cheers died down, you found yourself backstage — still dressed casual in your sleek black service clothes, leaning against a wall while Zoey wiped sweat from her neck with a towel.
She saw you before you spoke. Her eyes lit up and the largest grin spread across her face. Like you were the only person in the room who mattered.
“You always show up after I kill a stage,” she said, voice rough with adrenaline, smile lazy. “You stalking me, baby?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Hard to stalk someone who keeps texting me her room number.”
She tossed the towel over her shoulder and stepped closer — hair damp, hoodie tied around her waist, tank top clinging to her in all the right places.
“And you came fast.” Her voice dipped, sultry and low. “Someone missed me.”
You didn’t bother denying it.
Her hotel room door had barely clicked shut before you were pressed against it, your back hitting wood, Zoey’s mouth claiming yours.
This time wasn’t rushed like the plane. It was hungrier. Desperate.
Zoey kissed you like she needed you to breathe — her hands sliding under your shirt, yanking your pants open like they offended her. You barely got her top off before she was walking you backward toward the bed, dropping you both onto it in a tangle of limbs.
“I thought about you every night after that flight,” she whispered against your mouth, straddling your lap. “Touched myself thinking about your moans. The way you soaked my thigh…”
You moaned into her lips, pulling her hoodie off completely, leaving her in just her bra and sweats.
“I wanted you again the second I got off that plane.”
Zoey’s smirk widened. “Then let me give you your encore.”
This time, she laid you out properly — stripped you bare on her hotel bed, eyes drinking in every inch of you like you were a setlist she was memorizing. Her mouth moved down your neck, over your chest, lingering to suck a bruise right beneath your collarbone.
When she finally settled between your legs, she didn’t start slow.
She licked you like she owned you — confident, focused, fingers already working into you as her tongue swirled around your clit with practiced ease. She moaned into your pussy like your taste was her favorite drug, hips grinding down against the mattress beneath her.
“Fuck, Zoey—oh my God—”
She didn’t stop. Not when your thighs shook. Not when you begged. Not even after your orgasm rolled over you like a wave, wracking your body until you were trembling.
She just kept going.
“Thought I was done with just one?” she murmured, licking her lips. “You don’t know me at all, baby.”
You pulled her up and kissed her hard — tasting yourself on her mouth, feeling her hips rock against your thigh now as you slid your hand down, into her sweats, fingers rubbing over her soaked panties.
Zoey gasped against your lips, clutching your wrist. “God, yes—right there—don’t stop—”
You didn’t. You gave her everything she gave you, making her come with her head thrown back, voice hoarse, fingers digging into your waist as she rode your hand through her orgasm.
You lay tangled afterward, sweating, grinning, breathless.
And then—
Click.
You barely registered it.
Then:
“Oh. My. GOD?!?”
Both your heads whipped toward the door.
Standing there—mouth open, eyes wide—was a stunned fan, holding a phone and a bag of merch.
“What the f—?” Zoey sat up, dragging a pillow to cover your chest. “How the hell did you get in here?!”
“I—I thought this was the VIP lounge—my wristband said—”
Zoey’s eyes went cold. “That band says ‘meet & greet’, not ‘watch me fuck my girl’.”
You turned away, laughing into the pillow even as your cheeks burned.
The fan backed up, phone still up. “I won’t post it! I swear! I knew you two were—” SLAM.
Zoey stormed over and locked the door behind her, muttering something vicious about “security being useless” and “why do I even tour.”
She turned back to you, hand on her hip, flushed and panting.
You arched a brow. “Your girl, huh?”
Zoey blinked. Then smirked.
“You riding my thigh on a jet at 40,000 feet made that pretty damn official.”
She tossed the pillow aside and climbed back onto the bed, pinning you beneath her again.
“Now,” she growled, brushing her lips over yours, “where were we before we got rudely interrupted?”

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpop demon hunters smut#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#kpop demon hunters headcanons#zoey x reader#huntrix smut#smut#wlw smut#kdph#kpdh smut#lesbian smut#wlw#kpop demon hunters fanart#k pop demon hunters#huntrx
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helloo!!! really loved your daughter of apollo reader polytrix ficcc, sooo can you do a daughter of aphrodite reader?? very girly and so very whimsy hehehhehe....... you can make it whatever you want whether smut or fluff or anything inbetween! ty!
yall having been loving the greek gods crossovers and im here for it

It wasn’t on any map. Not even the sharpest-eyed paparazzi drone could have spotted it—hidden high atop Reader’s penthouse in Seoul, guarded by rose-quartz wards and sweet fog that shimmered in the sunlight. This was her place. Her secret garden.
“Are we... in a dream?” Mira whispered, her fingers brushing the petal-pink grass beneath her boots.
Reader giggled, perched on a moon-shaped swing made of ivory silk, her legs dangling gracefully in strappy gold heels. “Would it be such a terrible fate?”
The garden sparkled around her. Blossoms in impossible colors swayed in a breeze that smelled like vanilla and laughter. A tiny tea table floated nearby, suspended by sheer ribbons and held up by lazy butterflies. On it sat frosted cupcakes, pastel macarons, and a glittering pitcher of enchanted strawberry lemonade—one sip could make you fall in love with the next person you looked at. Reader had made sure to charm it to exclude the girls. She didn’t want anything false between them.
Zoey stood with her hands on her hips, blinking like she didn’t know whether to blush or faint. “Okay, I’m obsessed with you. That’s it. Game over.”
Rumi, never one to gush, sat cross-legged on a floating cushion and murmured, “This place feels like it was stitched from your soul.”
Reader beamed, dainty fingers plucking a floating daisy to tuck behind Mira’s ear. “It was,” she said, her voice a velvet sigh. “I wanted to share it with the people I feel most beautiful around.”
There it was again—that warmth. That glow. Every time she spoke like that, the girls melted a little more.
They spent the afternoon painting each other's nails with shimmer polish—one that sparkled like distant galaxies. Reader let Mira rest her head on her lap while she braided a long strand of her hair with starlight thread. Zoey fed her heart-shaped peach slices while Rumi traced hearts onto her back with lazy fingertips.
All was bliss. All was golden.
Until the spell broke.
A voice called from the rooftop across the way—loud, cocky, and entirely unwelcome.
“Hey! You there—with the flowers in your hair!”
Zoey froze mid-sip. Mira sat up straighter, frowning. Rumi didn’t move—but her fingers curled into her lap.
Reader turned, her soft smile fading slightly as she saw the boy: tall, smug, shirt unbuttoned a little too far, his eyes practically devouring her from across the gap.
“You look unreal,” he called, grinning. “Like... I dunno, a goddess or something.”
“Go away,” Rumi said, flatly.
The boy laughed, clearly mistaking it for flirtation. “What, jealous?”
That did it.
Zoey stood in one fluid movement, and suddenly her aura flared—a hot pink flash of fury. “She’s busy.”
“She's ours,” Mira added, stepping to Reader’s side, voice silk over steel.
Reader didn’t need rescuing—she never did—but oh, she loved when they got like this. She rose from her swing with grace, lips curling as she blew the intruder a soft kiss that shimmered into a shield of rose-gold light, blocking the view from his rooftop entirely.
“Be careful with your eyes, darling,” she called sweetly. “Staring at stars too long can make you go blind.”
And just like that, he was gone—stumbling off, confused, blocked by glamours and wards so thick he’d forget the garden ever existed.
Silence settled again.
Then Zoey turned on her. “You can’t just... walk around glowing like that and not expect people to fall in love with you.”
“I wasn’t trying,” Reader said innocently, running a finger along Rumi's collarbone.
“That’s the problem,” Rumi muttered under her breath.
Reader smiled, all sugar and secrets, before leaning in close—close enough that their noses brushed.
“Well,” she whispered, “maybe you should keep me distracted... so I don’t accidentally charm anyone else.”

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac
#kpop demon hunters#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#kpop demon hunters headcanons#mira x reader#kpdh x you#rumi x reader#kpop demon hunters x reader#zoey x reader#kdph#kpdh fluff#aphrodite#percy jackson cabins
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Hi love your fics. Hunters just seems like such fun people to relax with I bet they have the best hang outs.
Could I request a polytrix x fem reader where the girls are finally having a relaxing night at home after the events of the movie. and just a nice fluffy cuddle pile because those girls have enough food for at least a few hours. Maybe it ends will all of them falling asleep tangled up on the couch.
this is so cute

The apartment is quiet. Not the eerie kind of quiet that comes before something goes wrong — not anymore. This is the kind of quiet that smells like fresh popcorn and clean blankets and just a hint of the lemon candle Zoey insisted on lighting “for the vibe.”
The kind of quiet that means you made it.
You’re squished between Mira and Zoey on the couch, legs tangled under the knit blanket Mira crocheted when she was bored on the road during tour. Rumi’s perched on the armrest, one knee drawn up, holding a steaming mug of cocoa with little marshmallows floating at the top. Her shoulders are finally relaxed.
No one’s in makeup. No one's battle-ready. Mira’s hair is up in the messiest bun you’ve ever seen, and Zoey’s hoodie has a peanut butter stain from yesterday, but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
You sigh softly and Mira turns her head to you. “Too hot?” she whispers, already moving to shift.
“No,” you murmur, catching her arm, “don’t move. This is perfect.”
She settles again, forehead gently pressing to yours for just a second. “Good. You deserve perfect.”
Zoey hums in agreement from your other side, half-asleep already. “We all do,” she mumbles, voice thick with drowsiness, “after everything.” She throws a lazy arm over your stomach and Mira’s waist, mumbling something about “cuddle taxes.”
Rumi snorts. “You mean we survived a Gwi-Ma and saved the Honmoon just to be taxed by you?”
Zoey’s sleepy grin is pure smug. “Yup.”
You glance up at Rumi, your eyes meeting across the blanket nest. “You coming down, or...?”
Her gaze softens. Her lips twitch like she wants to argue, make a quip, maybe say something cool and aloof — but she doesn’t. Not tonight. Not after everything.
“Yeah,” she says, setting her mug aside and stepping down carefully, slipping into the space between Zoey’s legs and Mira’s knees like she’s done it a hundred times. Her hand finds yours under the blanket without even looking.
And just like that, it’s quiet again. Softer. Sleepier.
There’s warmth on every side of you. Mira’s cheek resting against your shoulder. Zoey’s soft hair tickling your jaw. Rumi’s fingers lacing with yours, her breathing already slowing. Your eyes drift closed, safe in the quiet, in the warmth, in them.
No demons. No stage lights. No pressure.
Just the four of you, hearts steady and breathing in sync, slowly sinking into sleep in a tangled pile of limbs, love, and leftover snacks.
You fall asleep to the sound of Mira’s gentle heartbeat, Zoey’s half-mumbled dreams, and Rumi whispering just once, so soft you almost miss it—
“Finally home.”

requests sent through my buy a coffee will be prioritized but ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything in general helps- Buy me a coffee <3
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60, @marcylated, @atomic-babomb, @stxr-lilac
#kpop demon hunters x reader#kpop demon hunters#huntrix x reader#kpdh x reader#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#mira x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#rumi x reader#zoey x reader#kpdh#kpdh fluff#huntrix x you#huntrix#huntr/x#fluff
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Hello, I really like your work, I just joined Tumblr earlier this week and I'm loving it here. But, yesterday I saw another anon request a specific story/scenario, and it got me thinking, "Hey, I think that's a really cool idea." So I take no credit for the idea for this request.
But basically it was a polytrix(polytr/x) x fem!(or Afab!) Reader, and it was like Huntrix's guitarist quits right before a big event/performance, so Bobby(the goat) has to frantically search for a replacement guitarist. Bobby sees reader's TikTok account, and likes reader's work so much he immediately flies reader to Korea for the show.(also there was mention of a timeskip[! think])
I just thought it'd be a cute like wholesome/fluff/cute romance idea.
But if you don't want to you don't have to, I totally understand. If you are going to do it then take your time, don't push yourself, yk take care of your body and mental health. Thank you for your time!
to whomever understands the sneaky references - ily

The rehearsal room was silent except for the slow tick of the wall clock and the low hum of amps still plugged in but untouched. Rumi stood near the window with her arms crossed, tapping her foot. Zoey was sitting on the amp case, chewing a fingernail. Mira paced like a panther, eyes narrowed.
Bobby stood in the center, phone still glowing in his hand, his face pale.
“She’s gone,” he said flatly. “She packed her stuff and left.”
“Gone… like, she quit?” Mira asked slowly, her voice sharp with disbelief.
“No.” Bobby’s lips pressed into a line. “I fired her.”
The girls all turned to stare at him.
“Wait—what?!” Rumi finally snapped. “The show’s in three days, Bobby!”
“I know, Rumi. Believe me, I didn’t want to—”
“She was difficult, but at least she could play,” Mira muttered under her breath, dragging a hand through her hair. “You couldn’t have waited?”
“She threatened a sound tech. And she screamed at Zoey during rehearsal,” Bobby snapped, glancing toward Zoey, whose eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m not risking someone unstable backstage at a live broadcast.”
The silence settled again. Heavy. Frustrated.
Rumi looked around at the instruments scattered across the room — mic stands, setlists, a lonely guitar propped against the wall like it knew it was abandoned.
“Great,” she said dryly. “Guess we’re doing acoustic now. Just us and a triangle.”
Zoey snorted despite herself. Mira cracked a faint smile.
Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ll find someone. Fast. A session guitarist, maybe—”
“We don’t just need someone who can play,” Mira said softly, lifting her eyes. “They have to feel it. Our music isn’t just beats and chords. Especially the new setlist.” Especially if they want to keep the Honmoon in tact.
Bobby sighed. “I’ll start looking. Right now. Don’t worry, girls — I’ll find someone. Even if I have to fly them in from Mars.”
__
Bobby hadn’t slept in almost thirty hours.
His office looked like a storm had passed through: takeout containers stacked on top of sheet music, his laptop open to five different music agency websites, and a whiteboard filled with frantic scribbles like "MAYBE?", "TOO TECHNICAL", and "FELL OFF STAGE ONCE."
But none of them felt right. The show was in seventy-two hours. And Huntrix couldn’t go on without a guitarist — not for this setlist. Not for that solo.
With a sigh, Bobby leaned back and did what any desperate manager would do at 3 a.m.
He opened social media.
He meant to scroll mindlessly for five minutes. Maybe laugh. Maybe cry. Maybe both. What he didn't expect was to find salvation in a sixty-second vertical video.
A bright garage, and 4 people in the middle playing an original song called "Now or Never"
Bobby hovered over the video. The screen pulsed with each chord they played. The main guitarist was set in the middle of the group, her fingers gliding across each chord.
It was unreal.
The music they played felt raw, instinctive, fluid. She played with a kind of hunger that mirrored Huntrix’s own wild energy.
Bobby didn’t even finish the video before clicking the profile.
He saw a name. A location. A link to a YouTube channel with live covers, originals with the rest of her friends, duets — one clip had her playing onstage at a tiny venue, backlit by violet lights. She was exactly what the girls needed.
He slammed his desk phone.
“Yeonjun. Wake up. We’re booking a flight.” Pause. “No, not for me. For a guitarist. She’s in Canada.” Another pause. “Yes, Canada. Just do it. I found our miracle.”
__
You were half-asleep when the unknown number rang.
Your phone buzzed violently against the edge of your nightstand, nearly launching itself off. Groggy and confused, you blinked at the screen: +82 — wait, that was… Korea?
You answered out of sheer instinct. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this the guitarist of Sunset Curve?” a man’s voice asked. Fast. A little breathless. Definitely not a scammer.
“Um. Yeah? That’s me.”
“This is Bobby, manager of Huntrix. I need you in Seoul. Can you be on a flight tonight?”
You sat up so fast your blanket twisted around your legs and nearly threw you off the bed. “I—what?!”
“I saw your TikTok,” Bobby said, already in motion on the other end — you could hear typing, maybe a printer. “You’ve got the tone, the flow, the instincts. We need you for a live broadcast performance. Three days. Can you do it?”
You blinked. “Are you seriously asking me to fly to Korea to play for Huntrix?”
“Yes,” he said simply. “They lost their guitarist. You’d be saving the show. We cover all expenses. We’ve already sent a visa application. Just say yes.”
You stared at your wall. The poster of Huntrix above your desk looked back at you like this is not a drill.
Your voice cracked. “Y-yeah! I—I mean, YES. Yes, I can do that!”
“Good. Pack your guitar. Someone from our team will call with flight details in ten minutes.”
The call ended.
You sat in stunned silence for a full five seconds.
Then you screamed.
[Later That Night — Airport Chaos]
Your suitcase was a disaster of hoodies, chargers, and panic-packed makeup. You wore your Huntrix tour hoodie like a comfort blanket. Your guitar was slung over your back, case plastered in stickers from every bar gig you'd ever played. And your brain? Complete soup.
You were flying across the world. To play with Huntrix. In front of millions.
“No big deal,” you whispered to yourself on the plane, gripping your guitar case. “Just playing with the most iconic girl group on the planet. Totally fine.”
Totally not spiraling.
The car ride from Incheon Airport to the rehearsal building was a blur — Seoul streaking past the window like a fever dream. You were running on zero sleep, three convenience store coffees, and pure adrenaline.
Now you stood outside a glossy, soundproof rehearsal space, gripping your guitar case with white-knuckled hands while Bobby swiped his keycard.
“They’re already inside,” he said. “And before you freak out—yes, they’re intense. But they’re also just girls. Artists. They’ll respect you if you hold your own.”
You swallowed hard. “Right. Just… artists. Supernatural-level idols who I used to pretend to be in the mirror when I was fifteen. No pressure.”
He gave you a sideways grin and opened the door.
The sound hit you first — bass thumping, a synth on loop, voices layered in harmony. Then, one by one, they came into view.
Rumi was leaning against a keyboard stand, sleek in black sweats and a sleeveless hoodie, her stray hair tucked behind one ear. Zoey was adjusting a mic cable with gentle precision. Mira had one foot on a monitor speaker, lazily scrolling her phone with those piercing silver contacts in.
Three of the most famous girls in the world.
They all turned to look at you.
Your heart did a full somersault.
“Uh,” Bobby cleared his throat. “Everyone, this is the guitarist I told you about.”
You gave a tiny, awkward wave. “Hi. I’m… me. Reader"
Zoey smiled. “You’re the social media girl?”
Your stomach flipped. “That’s me. Sorry if that’s… weird.”
Mira stepped forward, arms crossed but not in a mean way. She tilted her head, assessing. “You look taller online.”
“Mira,” Rumi said sharply, elbowing her. Then she smiled at you, softer. “Ignore her. She gets territorial. We’re really grateful you flew out.”
You relaxed — barely. “It’s an honor, honestly. I’ve watched your Live from Busan performance like, fifty times.”
Zoey gave a huge smile.
Rumi tossed you a cable. “Plug in. Let’s see if Bobby flew you halfway across the world for clout or actual talent.”
You caught it. Hands trembling a little — but this? This part you knew.
You plugged in. You tuned. You took a breath.
And then you played.
Not just the songs they gave you to prepare for in advance — your version of it. The bends, the slides, the little lick you added at the end that always made your followers go feral.
When you finished, the room was quiet.
Then Mira blinked. “…Okay. That was amazing.”
Zoey’s smile widened. Rumi clapped softly. Bobby let out a breath like he’d been holding it since Tuesday.
__
The crowd was deafening — a wall of sound that trembled beneath the soles of your boots.
Rumi stood alone at the edge of the stage, bathed in a single violet spotlight. The others had took a step back into the shadows. The band had gone quiet.
This was her moment.
You stood just off to the side — out of sight from the cameras, your guitar slung across your chest, hand resting gently on the fretboard.
And then she looked at you.
It wasn’t a glance. It wasn’t casual.
Rumi turned her head and locked eyes with you in the middle of 90,000 people. Her gaze was steady. Focused. Like she meant it.
And then she started to sing.
The melody twisted — aching, deliberate. You knew this part. It had no guitar.
But your fingers… moved anyway.
You shifted your stance. Picked up the lead gently, barely touching the strings. Just enough to echo her melody — not overpower it, just mirror it.
A soft, searching riff slipped into the air like breath on glass.
Rumi didn’t flinch.
She kept singing, eyes still on yours and a smile forming on her lips.
You bent a note to match her pitch — just shy of the vocal line, sliding underneath it like a shadow.
The crowd didn’t scream.
They didn’t even move.
It was like everyone knew — this wasn’t part of the choreography. This wasn’t a planned duet.
This was a conversation.
Between voice and guitar. Between her and you.
Your final riff answered her — gentle, open, unresolved.
The lights faded.
The moment ended and Zoey and Mira joined her back onstage.
But her eyes stayed on you. Even as the beat kicked in and the others returned to the stage, even as the crowd exploded and the camera cut wide.
She didn’t look away.

someone better get the reference
lmk if you wanted to be added to my kpdh taglist! private message me as comments get lost in notifications
ya girls broke and living off of monster energy so anything helps- Buy me a coffee <3
kpdh taglist: @spookyanxiety, @forgetfulsmols, @notheroverthinker, @rumiskimbap, @halle5s. @jellyofthefishes, @tundra1029, @zanystarfishpanda, @dinosaur-hehe, @amishreyac, @insomniyuuh, @driedmangoslices6, @sydforreal24, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @tsukimoon-chan, @theselilwonders, @tickle-monnster, @pandafuriosa60
#kpop demon hunters#kpop demon hunters x reader#kpdh x reader#huntrix x reader#kpdh x you#kpop demon hunters smut#kpop demon hunters fanfiction#mira x reader#rumi x reader#kpop demon hunters headcanons#zoey x reader#kdph#kpop#idol!reader#guitar#julie and the phantoms
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