#(<- not a req but for sorting purposes)

[kingdomstims]

-> happy (belated) birthday @garfieldstim!! board with both junhan & han with stuff i thought you'd like, such as mycology & loosely horror stims :3

[ID: A 3x3 stimboard of 7 GIFs with two images on either side of the middle row. GIF 1: A pan-over of mushrooms on a mossy log. GIF 2: Devils finger fungus growing, unfurling its tendrils. GIF 3: Rain falling on a window at night, lit up by a cityscape. Image 1: Junhan from Xdinary Heroes. GIF 4 (center): A white mushroom being plucked from the ground. Image 2: Han from Stray Kids. GIF 5: First person POV of driving down an empty country road at night. GIF 6: A timelapse of a forest floor as the shadows of trees above shift. GIF 7: A spinning lamp next to textbook pages of butterflies and mushrooms. End ID]

[tobesolnelyx]

— baby daddy fratboy!shauna shipman x fem!reader

a/n: OKAY. i’ve got massive amount of reqs about frat!yellowjackets as parents/unexpected pregnancy and stuff. so starting with shauna <3

summary: she knocked you up (on purpose), but she’s a great dad! fluff (well, mostly). pregnant!reader. g!p character.

warnings: slight NSFW content - MDNI

KNOCKING YOU UP...

Shauna had done it on purpose. She knew it was foolish, knew she shouldn’t have. There were countless reasons not to—damn solid reasons. You were still in college, with no financial stability, barely capable of offering a child anything resembling a future.

But Shauna wasn’t stupid—far from it. She was painfully aware of all of this. And yet... she couldn’t help herself. One day, she simply pierced the condom.

Three tiny holes, nearly invisible. You were already trembling, whimpering mess after she was eating you out to notice what she was slipping over her dick. And besides, you trusted her. Of all people, it never crossed your mind that she would do something so reckless and stupid. Honestly, you leaned more on her supposed good sense than on her respect for your boundaries.

Shauna had just wanted to mark you somehow. And when pulling you into her lap, laying her hands possessively over your thighs, and having sex with you every time someone dared to flirt with you no longer felt sufficient—at least in her mind—she chose the most primal and animalistic way she could imagine.

She had never felt so good as when she felt her warm, thick cum coating your walls. Her eyes rolled back, and she held herself there, making sure every last drop landed in your womb. It was a mercy, in a way, that you were too far gone in ecstasy to understand what had just happened.

She did feel guilt. For a while. But it dissipated quickly—replaced by a strange sense of triumph—when you showed up at her door, tear-streaked and trembling, clutching a positive pregnancy test in your hand. She played dumb, feigning confusion. How could this have happened? You’d been careful, hadn’t you? Always wearing a condom, maybe something was wrong with it?

And yet, she'd be lying if she said she didn’t feel a twisted, powerful pride in that moment.

“Hush now, hush,” she whispered against your ear as you were sobbing. She wondered if it was already the hormones kicking in. “We’ll figure it out. I’m not leaving you. I promise.”

She pulled you onto her lap and rubbed slow circles over your belly as you cried into her shoulder. And in the pit of her being, there was no regret—only pride.

Not to mention, for the first few weeks, she could cum inside you as much as she liked—after all, you were already pregnant. She was pumping into you like she wanted to put another baby inside you.

PREGNANCY...

Shauna didn’t leave your side. Quite literally. She even followed you to the bathroom. No more peeing alone! Like a loyal dog, she shadowed you through the day, never more than a few paces behind. She walked you to every class and was always waiting just outside when they ended. She dragged you to all her games just to keep an eye on you. She stopped going to parties altogether—just so she could stay in with you.

Once, she would’ve called that pathetic. Something Jackie would do—stay home on a Friday night, stuffing her face with sweets and watching dumb reality shows with her girlfriend instead of having real fun.

But then… she started to like it.

She’d prepare the snacks herself, build a sort of pillow-and-blanket fort, and wrap you up inside it like a crepe—carefully, so nothing pressed too hard against your belly. She’d hand you the remote and sit by your side for the rest of the evening, her phone abandoned, the outside world forgotten. Her hand would stroke your thigh absentmindedly, though really, she spent more time gazing at you than watching anything on the screen.

“What?” you’d ask, turning to look at her. The pregnancy was beginning to getting at you—nausea, headaches, body aches.

“You look beautiful,” she’d murmur, brushing a smear of chocolate from the corner of your lips with her thumb and placing a soft kiss on your temple. “More than usual.”

And she’d pull you in closer, letting you lean fully against her chest.

She’d read every pregnancy book she could get her hands on, scoured thousands of articles in the internet. Now it was her telling you what to do, guiding you through the stages with near-professional confidence.

She managed your diet, but never imposed it on you—she joined you in it. Not to restrict, but to ensure you both got the nourishment you needed. For you. For the baby. She took over the grocery shopping entirely. She already knew some things since she's a gym rat.

Shauna, who now prepared warm baths for you. Every time you came back from class exhausted and aching, especially after a rough morning of nausea, she was already bustling around the apartment. She had stocked up on every kind of bath bomb, salt, and soothing oil imaginable. Imagine the amount of money she spent on those shits. She’d help you into the tub, holding your hand tightly so there was no risk of slipping.

“Shauna, I’m pregnant, not disabled…”

“It’s just pregnancy?” she’d murmur. “It’s everything. Let me take care of you.”

And she would sit there with you the whole time—just in case, God forbid, you somehow drowned in few inches of water. She washed your hair so you didn’t have to twist uncomfortably, and when your belly grew too round, she washed your whole body. And eat you out after, cause you were getting way too horny, because of the hormones.

Shauna, who had turned soft. Gentle. Not that she’d ever treated you cruelly, but she'd once been sarcastic, sometimes cold, often just fucking mean. More like asshole with some anger issues.

But now?

Now the change was violent.

Shauna had learned patience. Patience with your aching joints and sore back. Patience with your moods and strange cravings. Patience when you cried for the hundredth time, terrified that you were going to be a terrible mother.

She rubbed your back until you fell asleep. She made late-night store runs when you craved something bizarre. She whispered over and over that you’d be okay. That you, of all people, would be a wonderful mother.

“You’re already doing so well,” she would say in the quiet of the evening, arms around you, fingers gently combing through your hair. You’d clutch her shirt in your fists, curled up in her flannel. “You’re going to be amazing.”

And in those moments, guilt would sometimes creep into Shauna’s chest—but she always buried it deep.

Because this Shauna had stopped partying altogether. You couldn’t drink, so she didn’t either. You couldn’t smoke, so she shoved her vape into the back of a drawer. She even gave up coffee when you told her the smell made you nauseous.

When other frats were asking mockingly if she’d ever show up to a party again, she’d just shrug and say she was busy with her girl and the baby. She no longer cared what anyone thought.

Shauna, who curled up beside you and looked at you with those soft eyes of needy golden retriever. And when you asked what was wrong, she’d shake her head and mutter something about how beautiful you looked. Or that she loved you.

What happened to the reckless, sharp-tongued jerk she used to be? You had no idea.

Shauna, who made sure there were fresh flowers in the vase every single week. Who drove you to every doctor’s appointment, gripping your hand like each one was a matter of life and death—even if it was just a checkup.

When your belly grew, she rarely spoke to it. Instead, she played music for the baby, kissed your belly gently, rubbed it with careful hands. Sometimes at night, as the two of you drifted off, she’d wrap herself around you and murmur into your neck:

“I love you. I love you both.”

And every time, it gave you a little shiver. Because yes, she’d said those words before. But never like this. Never quite so often. Never with such quiet adoration and affection.

BIRTH...

Shauna wanted to be there for the birth. And for a moment, she was.

The doctor had looked at her with a kind of skepticism, like he already knew she'd end up leaving the delivery room before it was over. And, as it turned out, he was right.

You nearly crushed her hand during labor, and when she tried to offer some kind of support, you screamed at her—to get the fuck out and stop breathing down your neck. Fair enough, if you ask me.

She left, tail between her legs, only to camp out in the hallway for hours afterward. She told herself she would stay there, would be ready the moment her child entered the world. And though Shauna would never admit it aloud, inside, she was falling apart with worry.

Which was ridiculous, of course, there were no signs that anything was wrong with you or the baby.

Still, she sat on the floor by the wall, abandoning the hard plastic chairs after the first hour. Nurses kept telling her to come back in an hour, maybe two, but she just shook her head and refused to leave. She probably wouldn’t have eaten anything the entire time if Lottie hadn’t shown up with a bag of food and a quiet, steady presence beside her.

You’d only ever seen Shauna cry three times. Once, during a brutal argument when you threatened to leave her, and she came back in tears, finally confessing everything she’d bottled up inside. The second, when her father reached out after years of silence.

And now. When she held your child in her arms for the first time.

“Shauna…” you murmured, too drained to say much else, offering a faint smile.

She shook her head. Her throat was too tight to speak, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Later that day, she curled up beside you, whispering over and over how proud she was of you. How brave you’d been. How beautiful the baby was.

Shauna had never been so vulnerable before. Never quite like this.

FIRST MONTHS...

The very first thing Shauna did after the birth was buy a baby monitor—the most advanced one she could find. She would sooner die than leave the child unwatched, unguarded, for even a moment.

You both had to figure out how to balance college life with parenthood. Sometimes you’d take turns staying home with the baby. Other times, one of you would bring the little one to class, and most people melted the moment they laid eyes on them.

Then there was the frat house.

Shauna had taken to proudly parading the baby there, like some living proof that you were bound together, that the two of you had made something real, something that would never go away. It was her way of showing the world that you were no longer available, that you had given her the most beautiful child on Earth.

The baby adored it. So many new faces, so much attention. Everyone brought gifts—rattles, bibs, tiny onesies. Lottie outdid everyone with the most extravagant presents she could find. The frat house, once noisy and chaotic, gradually softened. It got cleaner, quieter. Cartoons replaced sports and video games on the laptop screen.

Shauna, who had quit smoking so the baby wouldn’t have to breathe it in.

Shauna, who woke up nearly every time the baby cried in the middle of the night. And though she couldn’t exactly help with the feeding, she’d take over the second you were done.

“We’ve got this,” she’d whisper, scooping the baby from your arms, now full and content and cooing softly. She’d lean down to kiss your forehead. “Go get some sleep, you’ve got class in the morning.”

You’d wrap your arms around her with a small sigh. It was exhausting, yes. Some days you felt like you might collapse into tears at any moment. But Shauna was doing everything just right.

Shauna, who once spotted a pair of baby pajamas in a flannel print that reminded her of her favorite shirt, and begged for them like a child herself. Of course she got her way.

Shauna, who often talked to the baby when she thought you couldn’t hear, or when you were still asleep. Once the baby was a little older, she’d carry them into the kitchen in the mornings, nestle them into a high chair, and cook breakfast to music. The little one would giggle uncontrollably at her faces and nonsense words, enchanted by sounds they didn’t understand. Her apron read: Dad Of The Year—worn with unapologetic pride.

“You know you’re allowed to go to a party every once in a while,” you said once, sitting on the floor surrounded by building blocks. The baby’s chubby fingers clutched a toy that made all kinds of absurd noises.

“No,” Shauna said simply, sitting down beside you.

“Hey, buddy,” she cooed to the baby, who immediately tried to grab a handful of her hair.

“But—”

“I don’t want to,” she shrugged, slipping an arm around you without another word.

Shauna, who after every game—win or lose—would come running straight to you and the baby. She’d lean down and kiss the little one’s forehead met by wide, curious brown eyes. The same as hers Then she’d press her lips to your neck.

And just like that, the game score didn’t matter that much.

[lambilegs]

extremely vague and open ended request:

im in desperate need of dry humping and thigh riding with sevika… do with that what you will :)

(bonus points if it’s soft smut with a lot of praise hehe) soft sevika lives in my head rent freeeeee

soft and sleepy dry humping with sevi

♡ note to anon: HIII bae so I was sooo eepy when I got this request, and I really wanted to write some soft, sleepy sex with sevi, so I just had to do this request hehe. and thank you so so much for being so sweet about the req stuff, you're a sweetheart <3 and same omg soft!sevi has my heart ♡ contains: dry humping, sevi and reader being soft and in love, clothed sex, reader's body is referred to w the following terms: "clit," reader is called "pretty" ♡ divider by: @/kodaswrld

you whine as sevika holds you close against her in the dark of your guys' shared room, your flimsy pajama shorts drenched through as you rut desperately against her thigh. her strong arms wrap around your waist, the cool fingers of her bionic hand slithering under your shirt to scratch lightly at your skin. you shiver from the cool, smooth texture of it, the slight prick of the ends making you jerk harder in surprise.

even in the dark, you can see sevika's teeth flash at you, her sweet little gap peaking out in the row of white. god, she has such nice teeth. that thought sends you surging forward, capturing her lips in yours as you two languidly make out, the bump of her scar so uniquely her that the briefest skim of it as you shivering.

the trembles of your body cause her to tug you in closer, her hoodie plunging you into a comforting heat. a part of you melts at how even now, in the throes of pleasure, both of you heavy-eyed and hazy from sleepiness, she still manages to take care of you. she's like that, really. always showing her love in quiet, seamless ways that flow into one another like an everlasting chain of tenderness. she sees your skin covered in goosebumps, and she silently retrieves a blanket. you mention being thirsty during a walk, and she's hurrying to the nearest gas station. you mention a snack you like, and the next day, it's stocked up in your kitchen's pantry. it's the kind of affection that doesn't demand reward or to be seen. it simply exists out of nothing but care and attentive consideration.

the thoughts of how lovely your girlfriend is has you cupping her face, your tongues massaging one another's as her hand slides down to your ass, nails digging into the plush cheek of it as she grinds you forward and back along the firm, thick muscle of her thigh. the press of it against your clothed clit gives you a muffled sort of pleasure that sends your entire body squirming against hers, a soft whine flowing from your lips into hers.

"goddamn it, you're so cute," she groans against your lips, almost as though the sentiment is a personal attack on her. "you do this on purpose to get me staying up and taking care of you?"

you laugh softly, the sound shattering into a long moan when she lifts her thigh up, nudging it harder against you. "I--I-- it's not my fault you have the sleep schedule of an old man."

"hey, well," she chuckles, scattering kisses down the slope of your neck, sucking softly on the spot that dips to your shoulder, "I need to wake early to work. and I need to work so I can put my pretty baby in skimpy little shorts like this."

you shakily giggle, biting your lip so hard it aches when her hands grope your ass tightly and begin helping you ride her faster, harder. your arms loop around her strong neck, fingers toying with the ends of her silky black hair. from the tiredness wrapping around every inch of you, seeping into your skin, weighing on your eyes, and the way sevika is helping you so diligently to take your pleasure, you feel utterly softened and completely malleable.

"I love you," you whine, pressing quick, skittering kisses along her cheek.

her grip on your ass loosens, and your stomach flips at the way her grey eyes burn brightly in the dim lighting, a bit wide and imploring when searching your face. it's not your guys' first time saying it, but you know it's still a level of vulnerability she's spent years avoiding like the plague for convenience's sake. and with every stitch that gets added to the string of your guys' bond together, you can feel the veil she's held before herself stretching more and more, ready to snap completely.

she clears her throat, then gruffly murmurs, "I love you too. you know I do."

"I mean, yeah -- after all, who'd stay up until 1:00AM just to make me come when she has to be up at 6:00AM?"

she snorts, the corner of her lip quirking up. "only a damn fool."

[azsazz]

At Fault

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: HAPPY NEW YEAR!! AUTHOR! ⭐🎀 Could u make a rhysand x reader where reader is misunderstood as a mole and tortured and stuffs by rhys himself? Uk what i mean, right 😭

Like lots of angst but a bit smut sprinkled on top?

Warnings: Torture, blood, cuts, smut, oral (f receiving).

Word Count: 3347

Notes: Well, now that I don't have tiktok anymore, that means that theoretically i should have more time for fics, right? 😭

_________________________________________

“I’m not asking again,” the male spits, growling in your face. You’ve watched his eyes darken to black with each minute of torture that passes. His voice is a knife all on its own, and he leans so far into you that you can feel the scrape of his teeth against the apple of your cheek when he speaks. “Who do you work for.”

You might answer if you could. No, you know you’ve answered this question before, the winged male just doesn’t believe you. You’ve been here for days, limbs wound tightly to the uncomfortable chair they tied you to as soon as they caught you in the thicket of their border.

If you could gather enough saliva in your mouth, you’d use it to spit right back in his face. You would savor that much more than swallowing it in a futile attempt to wet your throat. It’s been days—months?—since you were ambushed in the middle of the woods, on your trek through the Night Court lands to deliver a message from your mother.

Your voice is a barely-there rasp. You wish you could scream and yell, shout like the first days you were in this dungeon, trapped with only the blue glow from the stones adorning your torturer’s armor. With the way he squeezes your jaw in his harsh grip, it pains you to speak.

“I already told you,” you add as much vitriol as you can muster. “I’m from the Night Court.”

The male releases you with an annoyed snarl. You stretch your mouth, watching as he turns his back from you. His wings are tucked tightly to his back, and you can’t help the stab of jealousy that accompanies the sight of them. He steps closer to the table where his glistening weapons lie. The glimmer of his azure gems gleam across the metal, and you shiver when you catch the short, sharp knife that he’d spent hours nicking your flesh with. He’d spent the following hour cleaning your blood from the blade before polishing said weapon, all whilst goading you into admitting where you came from.

The funny thing is, you aren’t lying. You’re from the Night Court, the Illyrian camps in fact. Ironhelm is a recent development, made up of females and children and even a few males who wanted a better life for themselves. A revolt of sorts. Ones who could no longer suffer under the reign of warlords who praise nothing but violence.

If the male lifted the back of your shirt like you pleaded a thousand times, he would see the deep scarring from where your wings would be, if you still had them.

If he brought the High Lord to you like you asked for, you wouldn’t be trapped in the depths of the Night Court. You wouldn’t be battered and bruised, wouldn’t be on the verge of starvation, wouldn’t be moments away from passing out from dehydration.

The male plucks a new weapon for today’s session after examining a few different weapons. The blade he turns with has a harsh curve to it, and you’re not sure it’s purpose, but it looks menacing as fuck.

You straighten in your chair, wincing when the restraints pull at your already tender skin. Your wrists are rubbed raw from the way you squirmed in pain beneath his blades, from every time you writhed in a desperate attempt to escape. They never loosened a centimeter, and they feel tighter around your swollen limbs than they did the first time you attempted to free yourself.

“No,” you beg, kicking your legs against the ties. It’s useless, you’re not going anywhere, forced to suffer indescribable pain when all you had to do was deliver a message to the High Lord himself. “Please! I’m telling you; I’m from the Night Court. Stop!”

You can see your reflection in the weapon as it draws near. You look like you feel, like you were dragged here from Ironhelm by your hair. Your eyes have deep purple rings around them, your skin sunken and littered with wounds, both scabbed and fresh.

The male gives pause, eyes taking on a sheen to them that you haven’t seen before. Like his focus is half on you, half on something else. But there’s no one here, no one but you, him, and the blade in his hand that you’re pretty sure has a name of its own, too.

Your heart is in your throat. It gives a hearty pump with each passing second. This is worse, you think, the looming threat of death only inches from your face, the anticipation of a brush against your skin.

“Fine,” he mutters, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you, but there’s no one else here. You don’t know what he means until the knife inches further and further from you as he retracts, pinning you to your chair with an ice-cold glare that freezes the exhale of relief in your lungs.

With that as his last word, the male disappears into a mist of shadow, and you’re alone.

There’s no time to catch your breath, to rest your eyes or dry the tears that have somehow managed to slip from your eyes without your knowledge. Something worse is coming, you can feel it in the air, the crackle of power that fills the room. The walls tremble and you hiss as the chair you’re in jolts, your restraints buzzing against your raw skin. The temperature drops further, and you can see your breath, just as a figure appears in front of you.

His presence makes you cower, shrinking into your seat. There’s a feeling of wrongness in the air, one that has the soldered wounds on your back burn with phantom pain. Or, perhaps the pain is real. You can’t tell.

“Who—” you stutter, afraid to even ask. “Who’s there?”

A low rumble shakes the room. No, it’s in your head. It crawls up your spine and takes root in your mind.

It’s not just a rumble.

It’s laughter.

“Wha-what?” You shriek. You’re too exhausted, too out of your mind to realize that it’s the High Lord. You’ve heard of what he can do, how he crawls into the minds of fae like a spider, quietly and discreetly weaving webs of intricate lies, making them forget who they are and become the soldiers and spies he wants them to be. Such tales had been shit spit from mouths of the Illyrian’s you grew up around, before you escaped to Ironhelm. They are the only stories of the ruler of the Night Court that you know.

And now he’s here to do just that to you.

Your scream doesn’t even escape your throat. You’re frozen to the spot, eyes wide with fear, spine arched against the chair. You struggle against the magic that keeps you from moving, but it’s no use, you’re like a rat trapped in a maze of the High Lord’s own creation, and the maze is you.

The male steps closer. With a sharp snap that stings your ears, a faelight illuminates the dungeon. Your eyes burn, but you can’t even squint them against the light. You can’t move a muscle. Can barely even breathe.

Violent, violet eyes are the first thing you notice. They’re sharp, and they bore into yours so deeply that something twists just barely inside of you. You can’t tell if it’s your own doing or his, since you’re trapped in his clutches. The lines of his face are even more beautiful, and if you weren’t struggling to breathe already, you sure are now.

His nose is straight, the perfect slope. His mouth is a thing of wonder, and you stare at it for a moment longer than you probably should. His face is set in perfect neutrality, giving nothing away.

Dark hair frames his temples in perfect whisps. If you weren’t trapped under his command, weren’t chained to a chair in his torture chamber, you might like to run your hands through it. Atop his head sits a gleaming onyx crown, each spoke inlaid with what you can only assume are rare and expensive gems.

His posture exudes royalty, as do his clothes. The sleeves of his button up shirt are rolled to his elbows, like he has plans other than slithering around in your mind to take a more hands-on approach to extract information from you. You’d willingly give it to him, have been giving it to the blue-stoned crony of his, who refused to believe the truth that spilled from your mouth.

Hopefully, the High Lord will believe you.

It's not looking like a good start.

Who are you? His voice has a hard edge to it that doesn’t sound right. Like he’s putting on a front for you. You’d imagine his tone to be regal and silky, not this gravely tone that still stirs something between your legs.

Wow. Trapped for days, on the verge of starvation, and tortured and bloody, but your cunt is alive and well.

The corner of his mouth twitches and your face flares red. You’d forgotten that he was still in your mind.

You stretch your jaw when he releases your muscles to do so. The fire you felt in his companion’s presence has eked from your body. The disuse of your limbs has drained all the fight from your body and replaced it with fear.

Well, fear and a little bit of arousal. What the fuck?

Your name, he commands again.

You speak it out loud, though you sound no louder than a mouse. Being in the presence of such power is intimidating. Thus far, the stories hold true. As you think this, something flashes in his violet eyes too quickly for you to catch. You furrow your brows in confusion, but your focus is pulled back to the matter at hand when the High Lord asks you another question.

Where do you hail from?

Ironhelm, you respond.

Ah. He knows of the territory vaguely, but has not been out to visit the newest camp himself. He remembers signing the papers to make Ironhelm its own camp, thought it was nothing but a good idea, which has him wondering why, if you come from a safe haven, that you’re sitting in a chair with cuts and bruises on your body.

Suddenly, something about all of this isn’t sitting right with the High Lord.

Ironhelm? He questions, and you nod, tiredly. Your body slumps in the chair as he releases you from his clutches. The High Lord steps forward as if to catch you, but the ropes around your torso keep you upright.

There’s a feeling of wrongness in his gut. Guilt. Remorse. Shame. With a snap of his fingers, your bindings are gone, as well as the dirt and grime from your time spent in this dungeon.

He can do nothing about your wounds, so he says, “I will have a healer come look at you when we’re finished here.”

His tone is much softer, you think that’s what shocks you the most. No, perhaps it’s the way that his entire demeanor has changed now that he knows where you come from. Those dangerous eyes soften, his shoulders ease.

Why the fuck didn’t his spy tell him where you were from? You distinctly remember repeating over and over while he took a blade to your skin your camp’s name.

“That’s it?” you all but hiss as you rub your tender wrists, rubbed raw from the ropes. “I tell you where I’m from and you release me?” You’d sound angrier, if you had the energy.

The High Lord steps closer and crouches to your level. You almost rear back in your chair with how close he is, close enough that you could lift your foot and touch him with your toes. He even more beautiful up close, and you shake your head of that particular distraction.

“You must forgive my shadowsinger and I,” he says softly, like he’s trying not to scare you away. “There have been an influx of spies crawling around my lands. Some are very well trained. We can’t be too cautious with what we believe.”

He’d have been here earlier if he could have but a meeting with the Winter Court kept him away. Azriel’s reports through the mind connection each night were vague enough to let Rhysand know that you weren’t talking, but that his spymaster would make sure you would soon.

You don’t know what to say to that, staring at the High Lord wearily. It’s not that you don’t believe him, but…no, wait, it’s exactly that you don’t believe him. Not after the shit you’ve gone through the past…however long you’ve been trapped down here.

“You don’t forgive me,” he murmurs, and fuck, you forgot that he can read exactly what you’re thinking. Like how you find that wrinkle that forms between his brows endearing. His violet eyes flicker to yours for a second, and there’s that feeling in your gut, like butterflies taking off, before he glances down at his folded hands, deep in thought.

“I’d like to forgive you, High Lord,” you say, but you’re not entirely sure that you mean it. He does look guilty for what has happened with you, but you think you’d prefer to deliver your message and get out of here as fast as possible, exhaustion and hunger be damned. “But your apology does not atone the horrors I bore in your care.”

He nods graciously. His knees hit the dirty, hard ground and the sight of him with a gleaming crown on his head, kneeling before you, ignites something within you. Your cunt throbs and your nipples tighten beneath your shift.

The High Lord inhales deeply, his chest moving with the motion. His entire display is so primal that it has your chest heaving in much the same way. The sorrow in his eyes sharpens again, this time into something much headier.

This time, when he speaks, his tone is deeper, gravellier. “I’d like to apologize again,” he says, inching closer. You should slam your thighs closed before he moves any closer, you really should, but he looks more than ready to beg for your forgiveness. You don’t get the chance to, anyway, because his palms are suddenly on your thighs, slowly dragging closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. “Try to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.”

Your body trembles beneath his searing touch. If your mouth wasn’t already a desert, it would most definitely be one now. Your fingers are wound around the arms of the chair like a vice, knuckles drained of all color.

You stare down at him between your legs. The gleaming crown on his head. His hands come to a halt at the juncture of your hips and thighs, thumbs close enough to brush over the seam of your trousers. You bite your lip, holding in the desperate noise that threatens to spill from your lips. You find that this is an apology that you’d very much like to see. To feel.

“Yes, High Lord,” you breathe.

“Rhysand,” he replies, sternly. Your cunts throbs at the demand.

“Yes, Rhysand,” you whisper. And in a single wave of his hand, your clothes are gone.

You gasp at the sudden shift in your attire. Your nipples tighten at the cool, damp air that washes over your body in a wave. Rhysand’s thumbs soothe you back into the chair, a soft hush has you leaning back and nervously spreading your legs wider.

Rhysand takes his fill, staring right at the beauty between your legs. He inhales the scent of you deeply, committing it to memory. Sweet, forgiving. He drinks it in like a drug.

He hooks his hands in the crook of your knees and tugs you to the edge of the chair. Eagerly, he helps you rearrange your legs over his shoulders, and then he sticks his face right into your cunt and ravages you.

“Oh,” you cry out, arching for him immediately. Rhysand licks a stripe from top to bottom before swirling it around your clit. Your thighs immediately try to close around his head at the feeling and he smiles into your cunt, before he continues eating ravenously.

Your fingers find his hair, slipping between the spires and into the silky strands, holding his face to your cunt. Your hips move, grinding into his face. You’re dripping and he’s eagerly lapping up your slick like a starved male. It’s too much, it’s too good, he’s too perfect.

Rhysand is skilled with his tongue in more ways than one. He licks, he twists, he sticks it as deep into your cunt as it will go, especially enjoying the deep cry of pleasure you let out when he begins to tongue-fuck you. He peeks up at you, wishing your head wasn’t thrown back over the back of the chair. He’d use his power to force your head up so that he can see if the pretty noises you’re making match the look on your face, but you’ve been through too much since arriving in his town, and he’s going to be making this up to you for however long he can convince you to stay.

His cock throbs in his pants. It aches to be unleashed, to find home in this perfect fucking cunt he’s devouring, but this moment is all about you. Once you cum on his tongue, he’s going to add his fingers, and once you cum on his fingers, he’s going to winnow the both of you to his bedroom where he’ll pamper you with his luxurious bath, with a hearty meal, and a bed so comfortable it won’t be possible to get inside of you tonight with how quickly you’ll fall asleep.

There’s this niggling in the back of his mind, urging him to take you, to take care of you. He doesn’t know what it is, but he likes it all the same, wants to listen to it.

Your body distracts him when it constricts, your cunt hugging his tongue as you near your edge. Your back arches at an impossible angle. Your hand flies to your breast, tweaking your nipple while the other stays buried deeply in Rhysand’s hair, though you have to do little to guide him.

He diverts his attention to your clit, suckling before trapping it between a soft bite and flicking his tongue up and down like he’s made for it. Your body threatens to collapse, but his hands clamp down on your legs as he moves impossibly quicker, driving you right over the edge.

You cum with a scream that echoes long after your voice gives out. You writhe, violently, riding out your blissful high. You’ve never felt anything quite like this, and it’s the best apology you’ve ever received in your life.

Rhysand’s movements slow, guiding you through your orgasm. Each sweep of his tongue sends aftershocks to your clit until you’re a whimpering mess and the hand in his hair is trying to shove him off. After one last fierce lick, one that shows you that he isn’t done with you yet, does he pull away.

This sight of the High Lord licking the taste of you off of his lips does something to you. Stirs up that feeling again, the one that feels like it’s been roused from a thousand-year slumber.

“Do you forgive me yet, darling?”

You pretend to think for a moment, biting your lip to smother the pleased smile you want to give. He’s still very much planted between your legs, pressing soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, looking much less like the menacing High Lord he was when he appeared in the darkness.

“No,” you answer, heart jumping at the challenge that fills his violet eyes. “I don’t think I forgive you, yet.”

“Then I’ll continue until you find it inside of yourself to do just that, darling,” he purrs, and sticks a finger inside of you.

[mrspiastri]

stop pretending!

wc: 1.9k words

an: i was so overcome with excitement i had to write this blurb sorry :D based on this req!

“Don’t even think about it.” Y/N almost growled at her boyfriend as he moved to sit next to her on the couch.

“What? Why?” Oscar questioned, still frozen in a sitting position in midair.

He got no response, just Y/N huffing and looking back at the TV screen.

“Darling, are you still mad at me?”

Still no response, just another exaggerated huff as she turned away from him.

Oscar almost wanted to laugh, but he knew she would positively kick him if he did. It was just really difficult for him to take his girlfriend seriously when she looked like a disgruntled puppy.

Y/N had been in a pretty bad mood ever since she woke up; her clients at work were being nuisances, her friend had cancelled on their lunch plans, and the couple’s cat Sylvia decided to throw up on the very expensive rug they had in the living room.

Not to mention, Oscar had been out the whole day, promising to come home for lunch. She decided to make up for the day’s negativity by enjoying some time with him, which she hardly ever got, only to get a text at 3:30 pm, saying he would only be home in time for dinner.

That one text was Y/N’s final straw. She decided she would do nothing about it and simply decided to ignore him.

Oscar sat down anyway, carefully, like the couch might explode under the pressure of her silence. He placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward just enough to peer at her face.

“Alright. That’s fair. But just for the record, I was going to come home for lunch. I had every intention of doing that. I even imagined the whole thing. You, me, some pizza. Maybe a nap after. Sylvia purring between us. The dream.”

She blinked slowly. Unmoved.

Oscar frowned and scooted an inch closer. “But then someone needed to run the meeting late. Someone else wanted us to check our seat fittings again. And then my phone died, which is completely your fault, because someone keeps stealing my charger.”

Still no response.

Oscar tried to look into her eyes, but she angled her face away just enough to keep him out. He could see her mouth set in a tight line. The same mouth he usually kissed good morning, goodnight, and roughly seventy-nine times in between.

She stood up. No warning, no words, just got up and walked toward the kitchen.

Oscar sprang to his feet and followed her like a puppy. “Oh. Oh we’re going to the kitchen, good thing I’m hungry.”

Y/N reached the fridge, opened it, then stared inside with what Oscar could only describe as aggressive purpose. He leaned against the counter beside her and waited.

She closed the fridge and walked to the dining table. Sat. Crossed her arms again.

Oscar followed, pulled out the chair beside her and sat sideways in it so he could face her. “You know, I read this article once that said couples who laugh together live longer. So technically, by ignoring me, you’re putting us in danger. Are you okay with that?”

Nothing. Not even a blink.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

She stood up again. Oscar groaned dramatically and stood too. “You know, most boyfriends would’ve stopped following you by now. But not me. I am persistent.”

She made her way to the bedroom. Oscar kept talking behind her like some sort of lovesick narrator. “Do you remember when you said I was the most patient person you’d ever met? I feel like this is a test. Is this a test? Am I being punk’d?”

Y/N walked into the bedroom and sat on the bed, pulling the blanket over her lap like it was a barrier between them.

Oscar leaned against the doorway, then slowly walked over and knelt in front of her. He just quietly knelt, eyes searching hers even though she was refusing to look at him.

“I know you’re upset. And you have every right to be. You had a crap day. Work was horrible. Your friend cancelled. Sylvia turned our rug into modern art. And then I went and messed it up more. I said I’d be here, and I wasn’t. And I’m sorry.”

She shifted but didn’t look at him.

He rested his chin on her lap, arms folded on top of her thighs like a sleepy golden retriever. “I missed you all day. I kept thinking about how nice it’d be to just come home and lie next to you for a bit. I didn’t want to ruin the day for you. I wanted to fix it.”

No reply.

He pouted slightly. “You’re being very stubborn, you know. Cute. But stubborn.”

Still silent.

Y/N’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. She picked it up, glanced at the screen, and answered it without a word to Oscar, who was still half-sprawled across her lap.

“Hey,” she said, voice softening just slightly for her friend on the other end.

Oscar perked up, trying to catch snippets of the conversation, tilting his head like a curious dog.

“What are you up to?” her friend asked, cheerful and unaware of the storm cloud hovering over Y/N’s head.

Y/N glanced at Oscar, who wiggled his eyebrows at her hopefully, trying to earn a smirk or a flicker of mercy. Nothing. She looked away and sighed dramatically into the phone.

“I was supposed to have lunch,” she said. “But I got bailed on.”

Oscar sat up straighter.

“Oh no,” her friend gasped. “Is Oscar not at home?”

Y/N looked him right in the eye. Cold. Unwavering. She spoke into the phone with deliberate calm. “No.”

Oscar’s mouth dropped open. “Alright, that’s it,” he said, voice all mock scandal and playful outrage.

Before she could react, he snatched the phone out of her hand. “Hi, yes, lovely to meet you. She’ll call you back later. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure of it.” He hung up with a cheeky grin and tossed the phone onto the bed.

“Hey!” Y/N reached for it, but he was already moving.

Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist and stood up, lifting her off the bed like she weighed nothing. She squeaked in protest, legs kicking gently in the air, but he just laughed and hauled her out of the room.

“Put me down!” She tried to sound angry, but her voice betrayed her with the tiniest laugh.

“No can do. You revoked my 'boyfriend's rights'. Now I’m reclaiming them by force.”

He marched them to the living room and dropped onto the couch with her in his arms, carefully manoeuvring her so she ended up sitting on his lap. She immediately tried to wriggle away, but he locked his arms around her thighs, holding her in place like a seatbelt made of affection.

“You’re trapped. Accept your fate.”

She gave him the flattest look she could manage, arms crossed again, face tilted away. But she didn’t move to actually get up. And her cheeks were just a little pink.

Oscar leaned forward and rested his chin on her shoulder, squeezing her legs gently. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Really. I know you were looking forward to lunch. I was too. I should’ve let you know sooner that I wouldn’t make it. I didn’t mean to ruin your day.”

She didn’t reply, but she wasn’t fuming anymore. Just quiet.

“And I know you don’t want to talk right now. But I’ll sit here as long as it takes. As I hold you hostage on my lap.“

She sighed, but it was just a whisper of breath.

He reached out slowly and poked her side. Just a little.

Nothing.

He poked again. “Come on. You know you want to smile. I’ll even let you yell at me after. You can scold me for being late. For working too much. For not bringing you the chocolate you like. For looking like a kicked puppy every time you glare at me.”

Y/N finally looked down at him. Not a smile. Not forgiveness. But the tiniest glint of soft amusement in her eyes.

“You’re stuck with me, you know. This is your life now. Me, following you around like a lovesick fool until you forgive me. Or until Sylvia kicks me out of the apartment. Whichever comes first.”

Y/N let out a long sigh. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Only because I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “And because you’re cute when you’re mad. Even cuter when you pretend not to forgive me but secretly want to kiss me anyway.”

“I do not,” she muttered.

Oscar gasped softly. “Lies. I can feel the affection radiating off of you. It’s like a hug with no arms.”

“You’re so dumb.”

“I thought that’s what you love most about me.”

She finally cracked a smile. Small. Barely there. But it was enough for him to light up like a kid at a candy store.

He pulled her closer, arms tightening just a little around her. “There she is. My favourite person.”

Y/N shook her head but leaned back into him just slightly, letting her head rest against his chest. “This isn’t over; I’m going to hold out on you longer next time.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll ever let there be a next time.” He glanced down at her hand, which was resting rigidly on her thigh like it had no interest in being touched or noticed. Slowly, as if she might swat him, he reached out and gently tried to lace his fingers through hers.

Her hand shifted ever so slightly away.

Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.”

She didn’t say a word, but a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

He scooted forward on the couch, wrapping one arm tighter around her waist and reaching again with exaggerated patience. This time, he grabbed her hand outright. She didn’t fight it, but she didn’t help either. Her fingers stayed stiff, pointing upwards like awkward little sticks while he tried to slot his fingers in.

Oscar frowned.

Y/N raised her eyebrows innocently, lips pursed, like she had no idea what he meant.

“Oh, we’re playing hardball,” he muttered and carefully started to push her fingers down.

One by one.

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. He could feel her shoulders shaking slightly as she fought it off.

Oscar used both hands now, fully committed. “You’re really going to make me fold your hand into mine like I’m trying to wrestle a kitten into a sweater?”

Y/N lost it a little, a quiet giggle slipping out as she turned her face away from him, but he caught the crinkle in her eyes.

“There it is. I knew you were pretending.” He finished curling her fingers around his hand and held it triumphantly, giving it a dramatic shake. “Look at that. We’re holding hands. Like a couple in love. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Y/N tried to pull away, but he held on tighter, both of them laughing now in quiet bursts, trying not to lose the silly, playful silence they had built.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head but not letting go.

“You say that like it’s new information,” he whispered back, squeezing her hand once more, gently this time. “Now shut up and let me cuddle you. It's my turn to be clingy.”

[ainaslastnerve]

hihihi!! can i req ; royal!reader x telemachus maid!reader x telemarketing (same..) crushing!telemachus x reader modern au.. (fluffysmut if thats okay) they can be oneshots and seperated :33 just curious!

Blush of the Laurel

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶ Word count: 1.6k Summary: A young servant shares a tender morning with Prince Telemachus, offering him a laurel crown and quiet companionship. Queen Penelope later notices and gently approves, asking only that the servant be kind to his heart. Pairing: Maid!Fem!Reader x Telemachus Warnings: none!:3 Extra: AAAA, THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE REQ ANON !! you ask and i shall deliver.. mwehehe-- I PROMISE i'll finish the other two soon. In the meantime, I suggest listening to Despair by leo. while reading this <3 ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

The palace of Ithaca stirred awake with the soft rustle of linens and the scent of baked barley drifting from the kitchens. Light filtered through the lattice windows in long golden stripes, pooling on the white marble floors like spilled honey. The stone beneath your sandals was cool, each step a gentle tap echoing down the corridor like a whispered rhythm.

You carried a bundle of fresh laurel branches pressed against your chest, their green scent clinging to your tunic. Each step toward the queen’s courtyard felt purposeful. The air was still, kissed only by the breath of the sea beyond the cliffs. It was a sacred kind of quiet—the sort that wrapped around you like a shawl. You loved the early hours. They belonged to no one yet.

Most of the palace still slumbered in half-wakefulness, save for the distant shuffle of other servants starting their day. But not you. You walked the familiar path through sunlit halls dappled with shadow, heading for the courtyard where the altar waited. As you passed beneath a tall stone arch fringed with ivy, a quiet voice cracked the silence.

“Y-You’re up early…”

You stopped mid-step, the laurel stems rustling softly in your arms. There—just off the colonnade, near a vine-draped pillar—stood Prince Telemachus. The light caught on his dark curls, mussed wildly as if he’d just left his bed. A scroll hung awkwardly from one hand, the corner bent where he’d clearly been gripping it too tightly. His robe sat uneven on his shoulder, slightly askew, as though he’d thrown it on in haste.

He looked startled, like a deer caught in the orchard. You dipped your head in a quick, awkward bow, clutching the laurel a little tighter. “Good morning, my prince.”

Telemachus shifted on his feet, glancing down at the scroll as if just realizing he still held it.

“I… I was just reading. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

You tilted your head, trying to read his expression. “You didn’t. It’s your palace.”

“I mean—yes, but, you were—um—carrying things.”

You blinked slowly. “…Laurel?”

He nodded—far too seriously for the topic. “Yes. Laurel. Important. Very.”

The corner of your mouth twitched. You adjusted your grip on the bundle and glanced at him from beneath your lashes. “Would you like to carry some?”

“What? N-No! I mean—I wouldn’t want to drop it. Not that I’m bad at carrying things, but—um—”

He was unraveling. You could see the faint pink spreading across his cheeks like a spilled blush of dawn. You let out a breath of laughter, soft and surprised. “It’s just leaves.”

He looked like he was about to defend the honor of laurel trees themselves but fell silent instead. His gaze dropped to your hands again, uncertain.

Then, almost too quickly, he blurted, “Do you—do you come here often?”

You blinked. “To the altar?”

“I meant the courtyard. I mean, the altar too. Or—wherever you want, really.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing aloud. Not unkindly. It was just rare to see a prince unravel like ribbon in the breeze.

“I don’t mind sharing the courtyard, you know,” you offered gently.

He stared at you, like you’d spoken an incantation. “You don’t?”

You shook your head. “It’s nice when someone else appreciates the quiet.”

He smiled then—hesitant and crooked, boyish in the way sunlight is when it catches on something golden. “I do. I mean—I appreciate it. Very much.”

You crossed to a low stone bench by the altar and slowly lowered the laurel bundle onto its smooth surface. The leaves shifted with a crisp whisper. Without thinking, your fingers found a few slender sprigs and began to weave them into a circle, your motions practiced from years of working with herbs and garlands.

Telemachus stepped closer, but kept a careful distance—like a bird testing if it was safe to perch.

“What are you… making?”

You glanced up. “A laurel crown.”

“Oh.” He leaned ever so slightly, curious. The scroll dangled forgotten in his hand. “For… the gods?”

“Not this one.” Your smile was quiet. “This one’s for someone who visits the courtyard early and likes quiet.”

You lifted the unfinished crown, its edges still wild and unshaped. The middle was crooked—your hands had started trembling somewhere along the way.

His eyes widened. “You’re giving it… to me?”

You gave a tiny nod, pulse fluttering. “If you want it.”

“I do,” he said too quickly, then looked flustered again. “I mean— I.. uh— if that’s alright. I’d like it very much.”

You stepped toward him, one careful pace at a time, heart pounding. You reached up slowly.

“May I?”

He ducked his head, curls falling into his eyes, and nodded. You placed the laurel crown gently on his head. Your fingers brushed his temple—warm skin, soft curls. He stiffened like you’d shocked him, but didn’t pull away.

You drew your hands back as if burned. “Sorry—!”

“No! No, it’s—fine,” he said too fast, standing very still. “It—it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The moment stretched between you, tender and uncertain. You could hear the distant cry of gulls over the sea cliffs. Then, after a beat, he glanced at the sunlight spilling over the courtyard wall.

“Um… I was going to the garden. To… study. Or pretend to study.”

You tried—and failed—not to smile. “That sounds important.”

“It might be more fun with company,” he blurted, eyes darting to yours. “Would you… maybe… want to walk there? With me?”

You blinked, taken off guard. He looked like he might run if you said no.

“Not as a prince,” he added quickly. “Just… as someone who likes quiet. And crowns.”

That did it. You laughed—a real laugh this time, soft and bright as sunlight.

“I’d love to,” you said, gathering the leftover leaves with a light hand.

You fell into step beside him, your shoulders close enough to brush. His scroll was clutched awkwardly under one arm now, entirely forgotten. As you walked through the corridor toward the garden path, sunlight streamed through the olive trees and painted dancing shadows across the walls. The marble glowed beneath your feet. The air smelled like wild thyme and morning sea breeze. And the gods, it seemed, were smiling.

The garden buzzed with the sleepy hum of bees weaving through lavender and rosemary. The scent of warm herbs thickened under the noon sun. A cicada droned lazily from the olive tree above.

You lay on your side in the grass, your cheek pressed to the crook of your arm, listening to Telemachus fumble through a half-hearted explanation of the constellations.

“That one’s… Orion. I think. Or maybe it’s the ladle.”

You snorted. “The ladle?”

“Big Ladle. You know. For soup.”

You laughed, belly-deep now. He chuckled too, clearly relieved he’d made you laugh on purpose this time. His laurel crown was slightly askew, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Your pinky finger brushed his in the grass.

He stopped mid-sentence. Neither of you moved away. When you finally returned to the palace, your apron was grass-stained and wrinkled, your sandals dusty with garden soil. The laurel altar stood in the courtyard, untouched since morning.

You rounded the column to retrieve the unused sprigs—then froze.

Queen Penelope stood half in shadow, her violet robe catching the breeze, the embroidered hem trailing like flowing water across the stone floor. Her hands were folded, her gaze distant but sharp.

You dipped into a deep bow, trying to smooth your apron with shaking hands. “My Queen—I was just returning—I didn’t mean to delay my duties—”

She raised a single hand, graceful and calm.

“No need to explain,” she said, her voice low and melodious—like wind rustling through reeds.

Your throat bobbed. “I—I apologize if I was late…”

“Was it Telemachus?”

You looked down. The silence said everything.

She stepped forward, her eyes softer now. “He’s clumsy with feelings,” she murmured, almost to herself. “When he was small, he’d hide olives under his bed because he didn’t know how to say he didn’t like them.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tightening on your apron.

“He looked less tired today,” she said, with a faint smile. “Softer. That crown suits him, by the way.”

Your breath caught. You dared a glance at her. “You… saw?”

“I see many things,” she said gently. “Including the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t watching.”

A beat passed. The butterflies in your chest fluttered so hard it hurt.

“And the way you trip over your own feet when he says your name,” she added, arching a brow.

You flushed from your ears down to your collar. She came to stand beside you, not as a queen now, but as a mother. Her touch on your arm was light—cool, smooth fingers resting briefly in reassurance.

“I would rather my son fall in love with someone kind and genuine, than with a crown and nothing beneath it.”

Your eyes lifted, wide and searching. She held your gaze, calm and sure.

“I only ask one thing.”

You straightened. “Anything, my queen.”

“Be gentle with his heart. He’s only just learning how to use it.”

You swallowed hard, voice barely a breath. “I will.”

She gave a small, approving nod. Then, turning with the quiet poise of a queen born and bred, she walked back toward the archway. Before disappearing into the corridor, she glanced back over her shoulder.

“And tell him,” she said with a glint in her eye, “if he’s going to spend hours in the garden, he may as well weed the thyme bed while he’s there.”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶ i have an antinous oneshot rotting in my drafts if anyone wants that.. the other telemarketing oneshots should be posted up soon ! ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

[luvyeni]

[ req? yes / no ]

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ─── wonbin and shotaro both being obsessed with you …

( 対 ) wonbin and shotaro + fem. reader wc. genre smut · contains! yandere!wontaro. bully!wonbin. threesome. filming. name calling. oral ( m ) mature content. / back to library

wonbin and shotaro being best friends , but also being unhealthily obsessed with you , their roommate. and i mean so obsessed with you that even though they’re best friends they both often have the thought of getting rid of the other just to have you to themselves — but they can’t because in a way they’re sort of obsessed with each other.

you just live through the days so oblivious to the way the boy’s subtly prey on you. wonbin is definitely more meaner than shotaro, almost bullies you in a way , taking your food , putting cups on top of the cabinet and taunting you when you cry for him to stop. “don’t be such a baby , just ask and i’ll get it for you.” he says , arms folded. “go ahead, ask.” shotaro is much nicer, taking your side when wonbin is mean , just to piss the younger boy off when you cling to him more. “he’s scary isn’t he? don’t worry i’ll protect you.” holding you so tightly that you don’t see the boy smirking.

wonbin can’t help it though, he loves being mean to you , watching you pout when he pinched your side , laughing at you when you whined — he doesn’t understand what’s wrong with him , he loves seeing you in pain , seeing the tiny red bruises on your skin done by him. sometimes he goes as far as to pulling at your hair just to hear you moan in pain , his cock jumping in his pants. “you moaning for me?” you feel so embarrassed so you go running to shotaro and he’s already there waiting for you , even though he’s jealous because he wished he could’ve heard you.

you don’t go on dates anymore; because the guys normally run away when they see you living with two guys — at least that’s what the shotaro and wonbin tell you ; they don’t tell you that they threaten the boy to stay away from you , intimidating them and send them running away, both of them waiting with open arms as you cry to them. “oh well you were too good for him anyway.” shotaro hugs you. “he was no good , look how you changed the way you dress for him.” wonbin spat. “skirt so short i can see your panties , what did you expect him to fuck you? is that what you wanted? to be fucked?” he said. “because we can do that for you and you don’t have to dress like a slut to be fucked.”

it wasn’t until you found yourself in bed , legs spread open as shotaro fucked you open , wonbin forcing his cock down your throat that all those times you thought wonbin had gotten too close when he came up from behind you to purposely put the cup on the high shelf — or when shotaros got lower and lower when he would hug you that you weren’t going crazy , or just thinking dirty. “fuck such a tight throat , squeezing my fucking dick.” wonbin hissed , abusing your throat. “fu-fucking knew you weren’t dumb , you wanted to be fucked by us.”

shotaro definitely wasnt nice when it came to fucking you , his thrust brutal; holding your legs open to keep you from closing them like you’d been trying. “do-don’t fucking run.” he grunted. “be a good slut and take this dick.” pressing down on your stomach making you scream around wonbin cock as you came , coating his cock with your slick , he groaned , cumming inside you. “fuck , you’re mi-milking my fucking dick , ngh!” you were a mess , gagging around wonbins length. “that’s it suck my cock.”

both of them switching off , wonbin holding your phone in his hand. “wh-what are you doing.” he hit record , just as he pushed inside you. “just recording a little video.” he groaned. “fu-fuck , next time you want to go on a date with a fucking loser i’m gonna show you this.” shotaro filled your mouth. “show how much of a slut you are for your roommates -fuck- send it to the man who thinks he can take you from us.” your eyes widened, shotaro pushing himself further down your throat. “fuuuck im gonna cum.”

they were mean , but you loved it. the way they kept you filled to the brim , using your body. they weren’t fighting for your attention like normally , claiming you as theirs , by time they were done , you were nearly unconscious. “look at that.” wonbin pulled out , slapping your abused cunt. “fucked her so dumb.” he smirked , shotaro becoming that nice person once again to help you clean up. “you did such a good job.” he washed your clean body. “no need to worry about anything , not school , not work , not those good for nothing dudes.” he rubbed your back.

“you’re ours now.”

©️LUVYENI

[saetiate]

cora! this event is such a cute idea :’) humbly requesting temperance with rin itoshi please. gn reader is fine!

itoshi rin x reader (gender neutral), wound-tending, fluff wc: 0.5k ❥ valentines event (requests still open!), co-written with @venustrvck a/n: AAAH i feel so nervous u r the first req i'm posting :')) THANK YOU SM for participating friend !!!

There's blood. More blood than he thought, down his face, down the sink. It trickles down the curve of white porcelain and coalesces at the bottom; rivers of blood conjoining into a lake.

There's a knock at the door. "Rin."

He ignores it. Who would want their partner to see them like this? Bleeding out his nose and his cheek. Weak, Sae would say. Lukewarm.

"If you don't open this door," the white lacquered wood separates you, a barrier he's put up on purpose, muffling your voice. "I'm going to break the door down."

Rin snorts. Like that's about to happen. He draws a stinging line down his cheek as he slides an alcohol-soaked cotton across the cut.

"You think I can't do it? Haven't you seen those videos where babies get stuck under cars and the mothers lift the car?"

The door swings open, his long arm catching it at the edge. Rin's hair is in his face, bangs clinging to his forehead with sweat. He's giving you the worst side-eye, bright blue shining in slits from behind his strands under the unforgiving bathroom light. "I'm not your baby."

You step into his space, too close for his comfort, not close enough for his needs. Let yourself into this part of him that he's been trying to hide from you. "You might as well be."

Rin busies himself with his reflection, making every attempt to ignore you, ignore the unfurling shame in his gut, despite your concerned face creeping through his side-view.

"How bad is it?"

Rin doesn't answer. You cup the uncut side of his face with one hand.

"I'm here for you. You can show me."

Warm hands enclose his own as you gingerly grasp the cotton pad; you take it away with gentle fingers. He doesn't turn. He doesn't look at you. Your voice turns into something gentle. "Let me do this for you."

He wants to hide. Wants to run away. That furrowed space between your brows is the last thing he wants to see. He can't do either of those things, so he closes his eyes.

And then all he knows is your warmth, your body pressed against his. There's the sound of shuffling, and a new, cool alcohol-dipped cotton ball is pressed to his cheek. He wants to hiss at the contact, but he bites the inside of his cheek instead. He's shown enough weakness to you today.

"It's okay, Rin." You say it almost knowingly, your hand moves to the back of his neck, bringing him down so you can better reach. "There's nothing wrong with letting someone else take care of you."

You think he mumbles your name.

"It's me, isn't it?" You're so close to him that your nose brushes against his. The cotton pad moves down over the abrasion on his jaw, clearing away the grime and leaving rough, red skin in its wake.

"It's just me, so you can show me if it hurts. No one else has to know."

It's like a cleansing of sorts, his body relaxing against the counter, leaning his face into your hands. A cleansing from the situation, from all the times he wasn't able to say what he needed. Don't you know that there are those who would take without remorse, what you give to him so freely?

This time, when you press against his wound, his hand tightens where it holds your waist.

[rensblade]

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃.

⟢ warnings/notes: husband! jing yuan x gender neutral! reader. toothrotting fluff, cute domestic banter tbh. husband yuan nation, please rise. not proofread, we die like tingyun. might be ooc. pls lmk if i got any of the hsr terminology wrong.. appreciate any type of feedback & please please pleaseee send me reqs if u have any ✩

“beloved, am i really that bad of a general?”

the all too familiar baritone of your husband’s voice fills in your ears, as you raise your gaze from the distance, only to watch him sulk from where he was sat upon the seat of divine foresight.

to anyone that squints, would be graced upon a phenomenon all too odd— jing yuan, one of seven arbiter generals, pouting.

“and what.. exactly makes you think so, ‘yuan?” you already knew the answer, but you still entertained the fact he was pouting, almost comically the same way yanqing does, when you deny him from making impulsive sword purchases.. or the same way mimi, your household lion, scrunches up her face and paws at your clothes when you tell her that she won't get any more snacks for the night.

said man sits up from where he's at, and abruptly makes his way down to where you're seated— at his desk. sorting through some of the things unattended earlier during his earlier escapade to fyxestroll garden.

“well.. you know.” he deadpans, staring down at you. you have to keep in a giggle, finding the way he waited so patiently for you to finish with the work at your side, almost akin to your precious lion who does the same.

you heave a sigh, but in an amused way, as you stack the last documents into a neat pile and turn in your chair, and upon being graced with your attention; your lover nearly falls dramatically into your arms.

“i can't help but think i should just hand over my resignation early. you know what, fu xuan probably saw this coming,” he fake-wails, as you caress his hair, cooing at the man who was currently at your feet.

eventually, he relents, when you tug a little hard on his fluffy white mane. “darling.. is this about cirrus?” the mere mention of the heliobus makes jing yuan glower, and you practically have to bite back your laughter at the expression, opting to clear your throat instead.

he stays silent for a second, then scrunches his face. “..absolutely not,” he retaliates in a serious tone. then, he slumps forward again, almost nuzzling into your lap as he tries to hypothesize. “it's just. i need some constructive criticism, before i actually hand over my position to someone else, you know,” he reasons, but you know better.

“right, why of course.” you humor him a little bit longer. pushing the general’s buttons has always been your favorite past time activity.

he pulls away, getting on his feet before he gathers your hands into his and gives you a solemn look. “you get me, my love. this is why we're married.”

that makes you crack a smile. jing yuan only raises a brow, but returns the smile nevertheless, a little hesitant. “yuan, i love you, but. you mean solid constructive criticism like.. i don't know, maybe it's about time you retired and took a big fat cat nap?” you suggest with a snort, and jing yuan simply huffs. (yeah, mimi definitely got the attitude from her dad).

you shake your head, dragging him to sit next to you as you elaborated. “in all seriousness.. you're not a bad general. not a bad mentor, father or husband, jing yuan. don't let that silly heliobi’s words get to your head.” the tall man, lets you cup his face, squishing his cheeks as you pepper kisses across them, as if to prove your point.

he simply gathers your form up into his arms, holding you tightly and you can't help but relax into the warmth he emits. he's truly a big cat. “you know, i’m starting to think this must be how birds that nest in your hair must feel.” you point out with a false-huff, after a minute of silence.

jing yuan chuckles at that, purposely tugging you by the waist; flush closer against his torso as he nuzzles into you— pale locks of his hair cloud your vision. “why, of course. a wise, little sparrow, you are.” he snuggles against you, golden eyes softening as they examine your reactions. “in fact, my favorite.” the baritone of his words send a pleasant wave of warmth through your body, you can feel him smile against your skin as he litters little kisses here and there.

to be fair, if you were held prisoner in his gentle yet steady hold forever, you were more than willing to be reduced to a mere bird, for eternity. okay, and maybe you would miss making snarky rebuttals at the general, but that's about it.

as you're resting yourself against him, a thought crosses your mind, and you'd bask in the silent affection but your loud thoughts cut you short. “and for the record, you still should've let me kick cirrus’s butt.” as expected, a hearty laugh booms from the man’s chest, the vibrations making your body tingle.

“i love you.” he says, practically purring, as the gigantic man nuzzles even further into the crevice of your neck, pressing yet another kiss to the spot he loves. his hair tickles your neck, but you love the familiarity of it all.

what a heavenly life you live, as the general’s personal songbird.

rensblade, 2023. please do not steal my writings or headers, i put a lot of effort into this. reblogs & comments are appreciated! pls send me asks/reqs, i write for most genshin or hsr or jjk characters as of now. thank u once again <3

[kotoku]

can i req sunday and aventurine with an s/o whos like the opposite of their personality? like for sunday, maybe his s/o is like short tempered and easily triggered while for aventurine, maybe his s/o is like not a risk-taker and stuff

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱ/ᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟ ᴏᴘᴘᴏꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

pairings - sunday x reader / aventurine x reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ established relationship/ opposites attract trope

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ In contrast to Sunday’s calm and methodical nature, you are much more expressive with your emotions and follow the flow of things

↻ You’re a spontaneous person, if there is something that has caught your attention, you’d buy it immediately, if you wanted to go somewhere, you would go without a second thought

↺ Your unexpected disappearances would worry your boyfriend to no end, coming home to scattered feathers and a clingy Sunday

↻ There would definitely be some arguments between the both of you, mainly about your reckless and careless behavior which would worry Sunday to no end, on the other hand you’d probably point out his slightly controlling habits which he actively denies…

↺ You’d both apologize to each other and make amends in the end, tuning down the extremities of your behaviors

↻ When the two of you first met each other, I can imagine him taking a bit of a dislike to your personality and vice versa (it’d be an enemies to lovers lol) 

↺ Someone would’ve had to force you two to interact with each other, and the both of you would be pleasantly surprised to see that you both enjoy the same things

↻ The two of you balance each other out, like hot and cold, snow and fire, winter and summer

↺ You help Sunday loosen up a bit, teaching him to let things go and relax while he helps you be more organized, teaching you to manage your emotions healthily instead of immediately lashing out on people

↻ Sunday is your celestial moon and you are his blazing sun

↻ There is a stark difference between yours and Aventurine’s personalities, while he’s quite the risk taker and devious individual, you are a cautious and blunt person, you wear your heart on your sleeve for the world to see

↺ No wonder why it was so easy for Aventurine to befriend and rope you into his antics, you were in for a long and wild ride

↻ You can’t count the amount of times you thought shit was going to hit the fan whenever you got caught up in Aventurine’s schemes, feeling your heart palpitating and breath quickening only to find out that everything was okay

↺ You found yourself almost wanting to hit him whenever he pulled this shit on you, but maybe he would like that

↻ Aventurine enjoys your reaction, always seeking to get some sort of rise or say from you (he really loves your attention huh)

↺ He finds it so easy to read you and what you are thinking of, too bad he uses this to his advantage

↻ Aventurine loves taking you to the casino he frequents just so he can observe your reactions to the game (he’s such a smug asshole to you lol)

↺ You’re always at the edge of your seat when it comes to betting, wondering just how much he’s putting on the line (--and by some miracle he always gets his way, you have no idea how he does it)

↻ Sometimes you find yourself scolding him everytime he takes a huge risk, especially if he gets injured and you need to help patch him up

↺ It feels being genuinely taken care of and worried for, but he basks in your attention so it doesn’t bother him one bit

↺ If he purposely got injured just to get taken care of by you, you’d probably patch him up, punch his arm, and then ice it again because you love him too much 

↻ Sigh, Aventurine sure is the death of you

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[suplicyy]

Hellooo!! This is the anon from the Kenma and Noya req lmao. I have another request :3

Feel free to decline this req but could you please write some hcs about how it would feel to cuddle with both Kenma AND Kuro at the same time..Like reader is either dating one of them, both or maybe its all just platonic and then they just cuddle and hhh mimimi

Cuddle Sandwich

Kenma x Gn!Reader x Kuroo

— Summary: How you and your boyfriends like to cuddle.

— Fluff

— Gn!Reader

— Poly!Relationship

The three of you were childhood friends, and since today you are very close and even went to the same school! And when they joined the volleyball club, you signed up to be the club manager, as a way to stay close to them, since you had a little crush on the two of them.

But little did you know that they also hid a small crush on you, and on each other as well. And on the day of discovery, the three of you agreed to be in a relationship.

Few people know about your relationship, so you don't usually show much affection in public. But when you hug in public, many people think it's because the three of you are childhood friends.

But make no mistake, you are extremely affectionate when it's just the three of you.

Kenma is usually the main target of your hugs, because he is shyer, his reactions are always the cutest!

One time you and Kuroo got together to give Kenma a big surprise hug while he was playing a game, and it ended up that the three of you accidentally fell to the ground with the impact (and even then you continued lying on the ground because the position you were hugging him was too comfortable)

The three of you love to cuddle when it's cold, because that means you'd probably have a movie marathon night at your house! There are always several favorite snacks for everyone and several blankets and pillows to make it even more cozy.

And when you're watching the movie, you almost always make a sort of cuddle sandwich in your bed, with you and Kuroo hugging Kenma who is between you two. He always says that you and Kuroo are too clingy with him, but don't let that fool you, he really likes it and even sleeps because he is so comfortable in your arms.

But don't expect it to always be as calm and silent as in those moments, because from time to time hugging can also be quite chaotic.

Kuroo has a habit of fidgeting and changing positions while hugging one of you all the time, so in case you made your bed, I'm sorry but it's going to be all messed up the second he sits on it. While hugging you and Kenma, he also would babbling about some curiosity he saw on the Internet or talking about some gossip he heard in class.

And just as they love hugging you, you love hugging them too!

Kenma's favorite type of hug is when he's playing something on his console and you're cuddled up next to him, with your head resting on his shoulder.

Kuroo's favorite type of hug is when you give him surprise hugs. Silently approach him and give him a big hug from behind and this boy will immediately hug you back.

Kenma loves to hug you when you're lying down, so he can sleep while being comfortable next to you.

Kuroo likes to give you really tight hugs, which most of the time he does to provoke you on purpose. He would crush you and hold you so you wouldn't leave, and he would only let you leave if it was something urgent (only if meteors were falling on Earth).

You guys love to cuddle each other, the feeling of comfort it gives each of you when you are with each other is irreplaceable.

A/N — Two posts in one day yayyy!! As I'm going to be less active this week I thought I'd post this one today too!

Also, this is my first time writing about a poly!relationship, so please tell me if I did something wrong or made someone uncomfortable😥

[starryylies]

This is my very first request on a blog, so here it goes! I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions about Simon with a reader who has lots of siblings (both older and younger) or perhaps is an elementary school teacher. I teach elementary kids myself, and it would mean the world to me if you could explore this idea. If it’s not something you can do, that’s totally okay too! Wishing you an amazing day, lovie! <33

The coolest ‘solder’ Simon riley

Si with an s/o who’s an elementary school teacher

AAAAA I’m so honoured for that!! 😭😭 no joke like seriously thank uuuu. Thank u sm for the req and I hope u like it 🩷🩷

And I made the header and drawing myself, I wrote and drew this during a long car drive so pls don’t judge 😭😭

He found out about your job the day he came over to your house, he was taken aback by the amount of ‘best teacher’ and ‘favourite maam’ cards you had.

While you made him a cuppa he lurked in your living room looking at all the messy drawings you had framed on your walls.

It made him feel a stinging ache in his heart because it reminded him of the drawings his nephew Joseph gave him.

As you told him about how you thought of each student as your own, he was enamoured

He adored the fact that you took your student’s well-being and artwork so seriously.

He’s the type of boyfriend/husband who listens to your student’s daily shenanigans in the classroom intently.

He also remembers all your students’ name’s, their likes and dislikes, which ones are mischievous and which ones are quiet

When you asked him to come at your school and give a small presentation to your students for career day so they can see a soldier- he was very reluctant but with loads of pleading and kisses, he agreed.

The second he entered the classroom, the noise and chatter all fell silent.

The kids were in awe of the big 6’2 man wearing a black vest that said ‘SAS’ and a skull baklava.

As Simon told your students about his job and how he gets to fight ‘bad guys’, a few kids started clapping at every opportunity they got.

After the presentation, all the kids raised their hands, asking all sorts of questions ranging from- have you ever killed anyone? Do you use guns?? Can you do a backflip…?

Simon answered all the questions trying his best to make it PG and well, not violent.

After the session ended a few kids came up to him and gave him a ‘coolest solder’ card and asked him to come back again. (I did the misspelling purposely cuz as a kid I lost marks for spelling soldier incorrectly)

It’s safe to say he will come back again and he will bring riley too :))

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[yeonmuse]

SYNOPSIS — Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like involving himself with those at Chaconne academy, but when he finds out his little sister’s music teacher attends and she starts getting a little too close she forces him to let his guard down. Now he’s gotta juggle new people and new emotions entering his life and she’s got to face her past in order to hold tight to him and her future.

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Sunghoon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, angst non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🎻

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . Strong angst themes, slow burn but mostly fluff. I’m not sure where this idea had come from considering I have 4 unfinished series out right now but I wrote this in 4 days so lets fucking go i guess??? Includes Choi Yeonjun, Bae Jinyoung, Kim Sunwoo, Jung Wooyoung, Shen Ricky, Xu Jiaqi and Asaya Jurin. Wc is 4.1k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | ENDING

“I can't believe you ditched us for Choi Yeonjun and his friends.’’ Jake complains, slamming his bag onto the chair nearest to him.

“What is he talking about exactly?’’ Sunghoon asks Jay who had only been a few steps behind.

“Yeonjun told everyone how he found you in Jurin and Jiaqis dorm and you all watched movies together.”

“It’s Choi Yeonjun, he's always saying shit.”

“Yeah but as much as he talks everything he does say is always true, so spill.’’ Jake had been quite adamant on having his friend explain ditching them last night.

“Not like I purposely tried to bail, Parents forced me take Yoari to give some things to her music teacher and she wanted to stay late that’s it.’’

“Wait wait backtrack, your sisters music teacher is one of Yeonjuns friends?’’

“You say that like it’s some sort of bad thing?’’ Sunghoon retorts

“Just wait for it.’’ Jay immediately shuts Sunghoon down before looking at Jake as if he’d been waiting for something.

“Have you seen the girls Yeonjun hangs out with?”

“And there it is.’’

“Is that all you think about?’’ Sunghoon rolls his eyes as Jake continues to go on about it.

“Look, all I'm saying is I don’t know how he does it but every girl I've seen him hang around is beautiful. If I'd known you’d be hanging around with them I'd have ditched Jay and his cousins to see the music teacher myself.”

“As if they’d have let you in.’’

“Well if you want to meet her that badly she’ll be back tomorrow, if Jay and his cousins are still down.’’

“I’ll let them know, we’ll be there.’’

-

This was the first time you’d be stepping foot back into the park residence in what felt like forever. You’d be happy to be getting back to some sense of normalcy or at least what you thought would be normalcy until the door swung open and you didn’t see Sunghoon or Yoari on the other side, but some guy you hadn't even known. You were more than sure he had to be one of Sunghoons friends. You vaguely remember him being one of the guys that stood with Sunghoon once the two of you had collided with each other, a day you cringed at any time you thought about it.

“Uhm’’

“Jake will you let the girl in and leave her alone.’’ Jay screams from the staircase, making your stomach twist in knots as you realize it wasn’t just Jake that was here.

“All i did was open the door?’’ just as quickly as he’d opened the door he’s snatched away and there stood Sunghoon.

“Sorry.’’ There was an underlying undertone to his voice that gave you the sense that the apology was for much more than just Jake, but you’d decided not to look too much into it. In all honesty his friends weren’t that bad. You'd gotten to know each of them, including Jay's cousins, and they’d all occasionally talk to you every now and then when you crossed paths in the hall or when they came down to retrieve something from the kitchen. Sunghoon on the other hand got a weird feeling any time he’d found you talking to one of them or Jake had attempted his not so subtle flirting here and there, but he tried his best to shake the feeling.

Eventually when they were all gone– as hard as Jake fought to stay and talk to you more, that left you and Sunghoon alone. Something the two of you had not been since the day he’d ignored you. He found you packing up your things getting ready to go when he stopped you.

“Can we talk?’’ Three words that for some reason made you absolutely nervous.

“I wanted to apologize?’’ His sudden apology makes your brows furrowed in confusion.

“I judged you too soon. I thought you’d be like them, like the others that go to chaconne, so I ignored you. I lumped you into a category i shouldn’t have because I didn’t know you.’’ Sunghoon couldn’t help but cringe at his own apology, saying it out loud he realized how stupid it may have sounded.

“Oh.’’ Your lack of words made his stomach sink, he wasn’t sure if he’d fucked up even more with the apology or if you just thought he’d sounded as stupid as he did.

“It’s okay, I get it. You’re forgiven Sunghoon’’

“You forgive me? Just like that?’’

“I mean yeah you were a jerk but I do understand that you're usually cold to everyone so I didn’t think much about it after a while.’’ Though he should be grateful you accepted his apology, something about your words stung, you thought he was cold?

“Once JurinJurina and Jiaqi explained it to me I no longer took it to heart. When I see how you interact with your sister and what you do for her I realized you're not just this big asshole or anything, I don’t know why you don’t really talk to anyone but I understand you have your own reasons.’’

“It’s because of Yoari.’’ He didn’t know why he felt the sudden need to spill his guts but the words spewed from his mouth before he could even register he’d said them

“What?’’

“The reason I don’t like talking to them. The reason I don’t trust anyone at Chaconne.’’

“It’s because of Yoari?” you’d tried your best to seem as if you understood but ultimately failed as Sunghoon saw right through you.

“Yoari used to be bullied, the kids at school bullied her because she was different. Because she didn’t act or dress the part of a rich family's daughter. You wouldn’t think young kids would be so stuck up and snarky, but then you go to enough parent teacher meetings and meet the older siblings or parents and you realize where they learned it all from.’’

“You lover her a lot don’t you…?’’ It was obvious to anyone that Sunghoon loved and cared for his sister and only wanted what was best for her. Though you yourself didn’t know what such a relationship was like you could understand his love for his younger sibling. He absolutely cherished her.

“There's nothing wrong with not trusting anyone Sunghoon, but you shouldn’t keep them all lumped into the same category. In all honesty I'm nothing like anyone there, not to sound cliche or too manic pixie dream girlish. I’m nothing like you or Jurin, or Jiaqi. I’m not even sure how I got into Chaconne but I know whatever my dad did to get me in he busted his ass to do it. I took this job with your sister because I could use the money, I'm not rich like the rest of you, never have been that well off. I’m just someone trying to make ends meet while attending a school I know will be good for my career in the future.”

“I don't know how much you trust me yet nor do i know if you’ve entirely warmed up to my being here, but i’d never hurt Yoari, Coming here and teaching her is always the highlight of my week. Seeing how she interacts with you and how much you smile and laugh around her is better that the money itself.’’ You weren't sure how you let that last part slip out but it had been too late to take it back. Though you yourself had felt an internal panic, Sunghoon felt a flutter in his chest at your words.

“She loves you. Yoari, she talks about you all the time, even when you're not here she's practicing and playing new things to show you when you come back.” Sunghoon tries his best to change the subject and move on, wanting to quickly dissolve the flutter in his chest.

“She’s absolutely adorable, i’m convinced she didn’t even need me since she’s damn near a pro.’’ Both you and Sunghoon laugh at your words. It was the first time you’d seen him fully let his guard down and laugh with you, something you’d find yourself hoping you’d see more of because without realizing you’d already found yourself wanting to be closer to him.

-

Your weeks had grown longer, long enough for you and Sunghoon to have gotten a little close and you’d stop by to see him and Yoari even on the days she hadn’t had any lessons. The two of them had become accustomed to you coming over by now, Yoari practically considering you more of a mother figure than her own mother as sad as that was but unfortunately her parents were never home. They hadn’t always been that way though, they had used to be a tight knit family until the money and the offers started flooding in, then they became less of a family more so now just strangers living in a house together.

Of course you realize the absence of their parents every time you’d come over, you only ever ran into them a handful of times, enough to have gotten to know a few things about them and finally put a face to the people that had hired you. Though you would never bring it up to Sunghoon or Yoari, having had a mother that was no longer part of your life you knew what it was like to feel the absence of a parent.

“Sunghoon! Are you done now you can’t have yn forever? I want to show her what I learned for my recital!”

“I thought you told her you wanted it to be a surprise?” Sunghoon responds, a look of pure amusement in his face as he recites his sister's words.

“But what if she gets sick again or she gets kidnapped by vampires or something.” Sunghoon forced back a laugh earning a glare of warning from you, making him clear his throat instead.

“Yoari no sickness or vampires could keep me away from your recital i'll be there. Promise.”

“You really promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” You put your pinky out at which Yoari smiles before locking her pinky with yours. The moment Yoari leaves the room Sunghoon is finally able to laugh at which you respond to by hitting him in the chest.

“Stop teasing her.”

“Vampires?”

“We watched the boy who cried werewolf together okay?” Sunghoon throws his hands up in defeat, a chuckle spilling from his lips once again at his sister's panicked monologue.

“You’ve never watched a movie with me?’’ Sunghoon jokes, but there was an underlying tone in his voice that gave away his true feelings.

“That’s funny cause I recall watching four disney movies with you when you and Yoari came over to my dorm.’’

“Last time I checked it wasn’t just the two of us that day you’re starting to make me think you only come here for my sister.’’

“Wellll.’’ At your response he scoffs and turns his head to look out the window, while he pretended to be hurt and offended as best as he could there was a hint of a smile on his face.

“How about Saturday then? They’re playing spirited away in theaters and it’s one of my favorites. I'd plan on going alone just to catch a break, but if you would like to join?’’ you weren’t sure what to expect from Sunghoon, there were often times where he’d let his guard around, but there were alos times where he hadn’t. You were never sure what to expect from him , but having gotten closer to him lately he had let his walls down just enough for you to have picked up on a few of his habits. The way his eyebrows would knit together when he was holding back his words or when he’d get confused. How his mind would drift off elsewhere and he’d stare into space when he was deep in thought, exactly like he’d been now. He’d taken so long just to think about it you started to regret asking, not expecting him to agree to actually being alone with you, but then he did.

“Yeah, Let’s go together. It sounds fun.’’

-

“You’re going on a date with Park Sunghoon?!”

“It’s not a date Jurin, we’re just going to see a movie?’’

“Alone? Without Yoari? Just the two of you? Together?’’

“Yes? I’m not understanding why that's such a big deal just two friends hanging out?’’

“A guy that didn’t talk to anyone other than Jake and Jay before you came here? Now he’s greeting me and Jiaqi in the hall, having conversations with Yeonjun and the guys, and going on movie dates? What kind of voodoo magic did you use on him for him to suddenly be interested in other people.’’

“Maybe he’s just decided that he can’t avoid people forever, there's only like 50 people at the school he’s going to have to get to know others eventually.’’

“You really don’t get it do you?’’ Jurin and jiaqi share a quick glance before looking back at you.

“Yn you have some sort of effect on him that I don’t know how to explain. Whatever relationship you two have, whether that be intimate or strictly platonic, he’s different than he was before. You weren’t here long enough to tell the difference but he’s not how he was before you started teaching his sister.’’

“He’s human guys, some people just change.’’

From the moment you’d been told to the moment you left your dorm you could only think about how hellbent Jurin was on proving to you that you’d somehow changed Sunghoon. You hadn’t known him long enough but in your eyes you felt they’d simply been overreacting. You had been completely lost in thought when Sunghoon arrived, honking his car horn to force you from your own overthinking and snap you back to reality.

“Not even gonna open the door for me?’’

“Will you get into the car.’’ You chuckle at Sunghoons mock frustration before slipping into the car and pulling on your seatbelt. For the most part the drive to the theater was full of comfortable silence. The sound of music playing silently in the background as a filler ambience.

By the time you’d arrived the theater had been bustling with families, couples and groups of friends all lined up waiting at the food courts or making their way to their destined theater.

You and Sunghoon on the other hand had made an immediate B line for the theater, having made the executive decision to get snacks beforehand, knowing that the theater snacks had definitely not been worth the price. By the time the two of you had settled into your seats and the lights dimmed in the theater there had only been a few of you settled in for the film.

Sunghoon found himself in a hard place tonight, rather than watching the movie he found his eyes drifting over to you and the way your eyes had been locked to the screen. He’d found himself admiring the way your eyes lit up at most of the scenes, how you smiled when your favorite character had shown up on screen, or the faint laugh that spilled from your lips as you covered your mouth not wanting to disturb others. He was starting to realize small details about you that he hadn’t before. The freckles scattered sporadically across your nose, the small dimple beside your lips when you smiled, the way your nose scrunched up unintentionally when you’d been overly focused or lost in thought. He was beginning to realize that he was completely fucked. He didn’t know when you became someone so important to him, important enough for him to be sitting here alone with you right now, something that he wouldn’t have done a month ago.

The only thing he wasn’t entirely sure about, was it such a bad thing to let someone else into his life? He’d spent so much of his life being cautious about who he hung around or who he’d introduced to his sister, yet you’d come into his life like a meteor striking the earth. You’d somehow found your way in and changed everything about himself he was completely sure he’d never change.

You on the other hand couldn’t seem to recognize that he’d been staring, so entranced by the movie you’d seen hundreds of times that you’d failed to realize he was completely taken by you in that moment.

For you the evening was absolutely perfect, despite neither of you having talked the entire time, you were simply just happy with watching a movie you’d loved with someone that had now become so special in your life.

“Ugh i absolutely love ghibli nights.’’ you rambled on about the movie and the other showings that would be happening the following week, and Sunghoon listened attentively, as if he’d miss an important detail if his mind drifted off for even a second.

“Do you want to go see the others?’’ The question had slipped from his mouth before he himself could even think it through.

“Really? You want to watch the others?’’

“If you want? Since you like them so much and i’ve never seen any of them.’’

“Should we bring Yoari next time.’’ Sunghoon felt every wall he’d built come crumbling down at the way you looked at him with your big doe eyes. He’d wanted to say no, that it should be just the two of you. He wanted to be selfish and tell you how he wished you could hang out just the two of you without his younger sister, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“She’d love that. Perfect opportunity for her to wear her dress she’s been begging mom and dad to let her wear out.’’

Eventually the two of you had arrived at the Park residence and Yoari was the first person to greet you, running into your arms with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever. Trailing not too far behind her was her mom who didn’t seem too happy.

“Yoari, Park we weren’t done talking.’’

“But yn is here?’’ Sunghoon glanced back and forth between his angry mother and Yoari who was now clinging to you as you held her in your arms.

“What’s going on?’’

“I’ve been trying to get her to practice for her recital for an hour now, but she refuses, she was supposed to be in her room but she heard the two of you come in and now she refuses to listen.’’ his mother babbles on angrily, meanwhile Sunghoon tries his best to calm her down.

“Ari, it’s not nice not listening to your mom, you know your recital is important you should have practiced.’’ You lightly scold her not missing the pout that forms on her face.

“Mom yells too much, I'd rather practice with you. I like it better when you’re here.’’ You’d completely seem to miss the way Ms. Park's eyes narrowed upon hearing her daughter favor you over her.

“Ari, I understand , but your mom just wants what's best for you, it may not be me you practice with but i’ll be proud either way.’’ you respond sweetly, brushing her hair back from her face, and the pout immediately lifts from her face.

“Really?’’

“Really. You’re amazing kiddo, but if you keep not listening to your mom i’ll have to make you practice 50 sheets instead of learning a song.’’

“No! I’ll listen I promise.’’

“That’s my girl, go apologize to your mom.’’ placing her on the floor you watch as Sunghoon steps to your side and Yoari runs over issuing a quick apology to her mom.

“Can I go play with yn now?’’ Her mother was left with no choice but to say yes, watching bitterly as the three of you made your way up the stairs not missing the banter between you, her youngest and her eldest son.

“What about me? How come you only want to be with yn?’’

“Because she plays dolls better than you.’’

“You heard her Park, you’re a terrible doll player.’’

“I am not?’’

“He used to make them wrestle.’’

Ms. Park's eyes trailed the three of you as you walked up the stairs and disappeared out of sight. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by her that the three of you were starting to spend an awful lot of time together. At first she had simply been happy that her kids were happy, but then they began to pay attention to her less and give you the attention she had lacked. She didn't realize it but it bothered her. A newly hired girl meant to be nothing more than her daughter's music teacher had turned into much more. Yoari only ever talked about you and her friends, she’d talked about you so often that one of the parents at Yoaris school had gotten you mixed up as her mother. She didn’t like how fast the three of you had gotten close and how much her daughter idolized you. She also didn’t miss how vibrant Sunghoon had become around you, usually he’d stay to himself in his room unless he was out with friends or spending time with Yoari, but even he was different. She absolutely envied the fact that a random girl could come into their lives and do all the things she’d been trying so hard to do with her family. Though she knew that firing you would only cause an even bigger ripple between the three of them than there already was.

After an hour of playing dolls with Yoari and then another thirty minutes of trying to get her to go to bed you and Sunghoon had been halfway out the door when Ms. Park called out to you, a sweet smile on her face in contrast to her very conniving train of thought.

“Yn sweetheart mind if we talk? I realize I haven’t taken much time to get to know you since you started working here.’’

“Oh? Um sure?’’ you share a glance with Sunghoon who simply shrugs as the two of you make your way into the kitchen.

“Have a seat, Hoon would you mind putting on the tea?’’ she asks Sunghoon to which he agrees before turning back to you.

Sunghoon wasn’t too sure what game his mom had been playing suddenly pulling you into the kitchen to “get to know you” but he could tell by her tone that she had been up to something. Her usual networking tone, the voice she used at work when she was negotiating or simply wanted to get information out of someone.

“So yn, tell me about anything important about you that you feel I should know.”

“Oh um okay?’’ you weren’t sure where the sudden interest in you had come from but you told her a few minor details about yourself, in all honesty as your boss and nothing more there wasn’t really much you felt the need to tell her.

“What about your parents? I’d love to meet them one day.’’ there it was, the one question that made your heart sink in your chest. There was a flicker of hesitation in your gaze, one that didn’t go unnoticed by either Sunghoon or his mom.

“Well, my dad owns a restaurant back home, he’s owned the place for six years now.”

“And he’s okay with you pursuing music so far away?’’

“He supports me a hundred percent, he always has. He worked so many late night and morning shifts just to buy me my first violin. Every recital or performance he has documented somewhere at home. Every song I've ever written he’s stored away. He always wanted me to pursue my dreams and be something greater than he and my mom were.’’

“And your mom? What about her.’’ the long awaited question you’d seen coming a mile away, but you had hoped she wouldn’t ask. You’d tried your best to control your expression but it was evident in the way your face contorted at the mention of your mom, that it was a touchy topic.

Sunghoon felt the atmosphere go tense and he thought back to one of the earlier nights when you’d first started teaching Yoari, the night you’d shut down at the mention of your family.

“Mom it’s getting late, I should get her back to the dorms before curfew.’’

“I guess you’re right, i’ve already pried too much.’’ she turns to look at you with an endearing smile. “Sorry for keeping you so long.’’

“Oh- no it’s okay Mrs. Park.’’ you respond, voice slightly shaky as you stand from your seat and Sunghoon makes his way to your side.

“Goodnight” you nod your head as a final goodbye before making your way towards the door. The entire drive back to your dorm was dead silent, but Sunghoon wouldn’t dare say a word.

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @heesallure @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @sol3chu @st4rryst4r @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time @riribelle @gaytron3000 @heesunghooney @i03jae @blackhairandbangs @sunooqvrlsx @addictedtohobi @enaile23 @ivyvioletcarson @kristynaaah @starbyeol1512 @tinyteezer @jkslvsnella @brianashiftz @starbyeol1512 @miuwonis

[finalgirlmorgue]

The Rookie. . . ૮₍˶•▿•˶₎ა 

⭐﹒LEON KENNEDY X older! fem! READER ⭐﹒

⭐﹒- 1000+ words

⭐﹒fluff and smut

⭐﹒not proof read

⭐﹒comment to be added to my tag list!

⭐﹒req open

💫 - Leon and his superior are stuck in the RPD elevator...

Raccoon City Police department was made up of several divisions with distinct positions. Avoiding unequal power dynamics between employees wasn't easy. The Juvenile Crime Division was at the very bottom of the pyramid. Rookies worked alongside higher ups and Tutor officers for a period of time that serviced as a training. That's where you find yourself, in a police car with a wide eyed Leon Kennedy, an eager younger man who was your Protege for the Fall. He was staring down at his nose, a ball of nerves. His face was covered in sweat and his hair flopped over his forehead and into his eyes.

A 4 hour standoff that ended in several arrests, that was good, but it didn't help his inexperience anxiety. You had a rookie on your hands, a kid, whose sole purpose was to prove himself as a good cop. He was 4 or 5 years younger then you, but taller, he hadn't been hardened yet. he hadn't seen the world of police and justice yet or everything that came with it. That was the way these things went and he would learn soon enough.

You had met a year ago. You had gotten him through his first few weeks with the job, though not by much, he was clumsy and clueless. But you took care of him and eventually, he started to warm up to you. In the beginning, you were both awkward around each other, but you felt like there were times when he looked up to you even if he couldn't say it in words. Soon that phase passed, slowly. He called you Miss Or officer during the work day, a strict policy he had crafted himself to be completely professional with his mentor. And you would do the same for him whenever the need arose, which was all the time. Your relationship grew stronger by the day and now that your mentee had graduated from probationary period and was officially assigned his first real mission, things felt right. He was still under you as an officer and mentee, but that only meant more opportunities, more challenges and new ways for him to show his worth. He was already showing you his strengths, and it wasn't too hard for him to catch up to his peers.

He sat in the car, breathing heavily through his mouth. lips wet from saliva, cheeks reddened from the night air, hair plastered to the side of his head from the humidity. It was a perfect early morning. 4 AM. On call for a drug deal gone wrong. 12 suspects, 2 dead bodies, four of them in custody, one escaped and running and several awaiting questioning.

The golden boy was slumped, he had squeezed the trigger of his gun so many times his fingers had begun to cramp and numb. His hands trembled violently as he stared out at the crime scene. The blood was everywhere, splattered across the sidewalk, near the car of suspect #2. A pool of thick, rusty red lay at the edge of the concrete curb. It oozed along the blacktop until it stopped where the asphalt met the gravel. A dark stain. The blood had dried to a solid brownish grey.

"You gonna tap out for the night after this?" You asked.

Leon turned to you with a confused look on his face. "Uh…no. I've gotta get this done," he said. "What about you..?"

"I'll hangout until 5 or 6. I wanna be around for witnesses when they get here."

That seemed to satisfy him. Leon turned back to the street with a grim expression on his face. He leaned forward slightly, looking past the body, at the street. "when's the cleanup team gonna come around?.." Leon asked.

"soon. They blocked off the area. They're gonna put up roadblocks. We'll have some traffic cops come by later And then we'll clean it up. Just sit tight. it'll all be sorted by tonight" You paused, glancing over at the younger man, who seemed focused on his thighs, trying not to get caught up in the adrenaline rush. His hand twitched slightly. It was obvious he could use an ice pack, maybe an aspirin, or even just his own company to calm down. He smoothed out the creases in his pants. He was probably going through the motions, just getting through case by case. He was smart, strong, and had a good sense of what was right. Every cop had a phase where they lost their innocence. When they saw something, and couldn't go back. Leon looked at you for some semblance of comfort, but you just smiled gently. He gave you a smile back.

You weren't sure exactly how long you two sat in silence before a pair of police officers approached the squad car, dismissing you.

As Raccoon city sped and blurred by into streaks of muddy watercolor outside of the window, Leon leaned back further in the passenger seat, closing his eyes, exhausted by the events of the day. His head lolled back, he let out a soft groan. His muscles relaxed as exhaustion set in. You drove in silence for awhile longer, enjoying the smooth ride. The sound of his breathing filled the interior of the vehicle. You watched the city go by, in all of its dirty, corrupt glory. The skyline of downtown stretched out in front of you, tall buildings and small businesses. It was still early in the morning, but it seemed like nighttime had fallen. A heavy fog hung over the streets, giving everything a glassy haze. You rolled down your window. It was muggy in the car, humid, almost hot. Leon's skin flushed pink as he sat up straighter in the seat.

He rubbed his tired eyes and yawned. "Miss Or…uh, Miss Officer…" Leon stammered out. "Can we stop by the RPD?..please? To grab my stuff? And maybe take a shower..it's kinda sweaty in here."

You nodded. "Sure." You pulled into the parking lot behind the precinct and got out, taking your time walking toward the building. It wasn't far from the crime scene, just down the block. "I'll go with you. I'm kind of tired too. My back is starting to ache." Leon was quick to follow. As he walked beside you, he glanced down at your profile. His eyes lingered on the soft lines of your jaw and the shape of your nose, the shape of your chin. His gaze wandered back to the center of your face, which remained stoic. His eyes trailed downward, resting on the neckline of your uniform shirt, which exposed your collarbone. His gaze lingered on it again and he blushed. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked faster to catch up with you.

As you entered the main lobby, greeted by the empty Police desk in the front and an attendant behind a locked door in the back, this late night call had messed everyone up by dragging the whole force into longer hours. "We can head to the locker rooms upstairs first, lets take the elevator." You said.

He pointed his nose to the stairs that led to the second floor of the station, and so on.

Well, the elevator would be faster. Leon followed behind you as you headed forward. The elevator doors opened. The two of you stepped inside. The tiled floors inside were cracking, the paint fading and washing away with each set of feet that trod over them.

The elevator shuddered and swayed with each step and every shake of the machinery. A lightbulb in the ceiling flickered. The walls began to hum and creak, metal straining beneath the weight of its load.

Leon closed his eyes briefly as the doors slid open. He took slow steps to exit. Except.. they doors had only cracked slightly..

he doors opened just enough to taunt you – a magazine's width of space, nothing more. Just enough to see the empty hallway beyond, but not enough to escape. There was no one else in the hallways. The only sound came from Leon's footsteps. The sounds of nervous shuffling and pacing. "Well- we're stuck." Leon sighed in defeat as he stood next to you, arms crossed as a defensive mechanism. He was scared.. he always seemed to be in your presence. This was the first time he'd actually been alone with you in such a small space. The elevator was about the size of two desks pushed together. Even being on opposite ends you two were still only a few feet away. He felt uncomfortable with this proximity. He was stuck, in a tiny, dim room with you in close quarters. His face was bright red, his eyes wide in confusion, and his brows raised high. "So, what do you want me to do?" Leon mumbled quietly.

His eyes trailed downwards to your hands. The gloves you wore, the curve of your knuckles against the leather, the shape of your thumb pressing firmly into your palm with a barely contained frustration.

"Radio?" You kept your voice steady, professional.

"What about yours?" Leon's voice had an edge now, that anxious desperation creeping back in. "You must have—"

Leon patted his empty belt, color draining from his face. "I… left it in the car." The confession came out barely above a whisper.

"Perfect." The word hung in the stale air between you. "So no radio, no way to contact patrol." You ran through options in your head. The building would be nearly empty at this hour –.

"If I had mine," you cut him off, "would I be asking about yours?" The elevator shuddered again, leaving you two stumbling.

The buttons beside the door were worn smooth from decades of use, their numbers barely visible. But what caught your attention was what wasn't there – no emergency button, no call box, not even a telephone line. Just rows of numbered buttons that might as well have been decorative for all the good they were doing right now.

You pushed a number on the first row, hoping something would happen. Nothing happened, just the sound of stale air blowing in the shaft. No lights flickered on or flashed. Nothing. It was quiet. Completely silent. Just like a tomb. You reached for the next number, and found it the same. You continued pushing. You pressed three, four, five.. six buttons, all without result. You were trapped. Trapped in a small space with a rookie cop.

Leon tried to pry the doors open with his hands, putting all of the force into his forearms, but it wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he tried. He growled and threw himself against the doors, trying his best to push them apart with brute strength. "Come on!" he shouted, his breath shortening, "Just open the dang thing already!" He stopped for a moment, looking back toward you. Your eyes were staring straight ahead, unresponsive. His mouth dropped open, and his shoulders slumped.

It took several moments of deep breaths for him to regain composure. You both took a moment to compose yourself, sitting down against the wall across from the elevator door, waiting for help to arrive. You didn't know what to say, or what to do, just in shock.

When Leon eventually spoke, his tone was calm and quiet. "It's okay, don't worry, we'll figure something out." You looked over toward him as he spoke. "Don't worry. We've been through worse."

You looked at him, eyebrows drawn together as you stared at him. You bit at the inside of your cheek as you fought the urge to yell. "Quiet." I breathed. "I don't want to hear any more from you."

Leon didn't understand why you snapped at him and he felt bad for raising his voice earlier. "I'm sorry." He muttered, his head hanging low, ashamed.

You pointed your finger at his chest, backing him into the corner, back pressing against the wood paneling. You gripped his shirt with your hands, shaking violently from anger, and fear. You could feel a cold sweat build up from under your hairline and slide down your forehead. "Shut up." You spat, squeezing tighter. Your heart rate shot up to a million beats a minute. "This is your fault. Your inexperienced, clumsy, you showed up to the office DRUNK, on your first day, and somehow caused this!-" You shoved at his chest with all the force you could muster and pushed him farther into the corner of the tiny space. Your chest heaved. "Now, if you don't shut up, I'll-" You let your words fade, but your face told the rest of it.

"I'm sorry Miss… Officer." He whimpered. You let your hold loosen, releasing his shirt slowly, as though letting it breathe. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and anger. You glared at him, your nostrils flared. Leon lowered his head as you stared him down..

"Unzip your pants." You commanded, not even flinching when he started to cry in earnest. His hands fumbled with the buttons and his knees shook. You took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to calm your racing heart, and you felt something inside of you unravel. You knew, both of you wanted this. His actions spoke louder than any words he could say and so did your desires for revenge. This was his fault, you two were alone and in a tiny space, no one else was around to hear you .

You stepped back and allowed him his time. You closed your eyes and tried to think you heard him panting. He was nervous, that much you could tell, but there was also something underneath that. Want, maybe? You opened your eyes again, just as he pushed the hem over his thigh. His face shaping into relief as he saw the outline of your hips and lower abdomen as you removed your uniform, before the jeans fell to pool at his ankles. His hands still trembled, but his breathing became steady. A soft smile crept onto your lips. You walked back towards Leon and wrapped a hand around his throat. "As your superior I expect you to listen. Do you understand me?" He nodded frantically, gulping. You pressed harder onto his Adam's apple, causing him to nod even more violently until his eyes rolled into the back of his head. You lifted your hand from his throat, allowing him to swallow air again as you backed away. "Good boy, Leon." You cooed, patting him on the shoulder. He collapsed onto the floor on his knees.

"Please.." He grasped your thighs and looked up through hooded eyes, his hands gripping your legs tightly.

"Take them off..." You whispered. The look in his eyes told you that you had won the battle already. He got to work, he knew exactly what he needed to do in order to get what he wanted without breaking eye contact. He reached out a finger, trailing it along your waist, hooking it under the hemline of your pants, teasingly running it across the front. Your stomach clenched as his finger dragged downwards, pulling them over your hips, exposing yourself to him. He grinned and brought his lips close to your underwear, kissing the front of it softly.

His hands moved upward, his fingers brushing under your belly button. You shivered under his touch and pulled at his collar, desperate for an ounce of heat. You tugged at his hair, forcing his face closer. His nose grazed your stomach as he continued his journey upwards, nuzzling your navel, and then dropping down to remove your underwear, bringing it down to your knees. He knelt between your legs, his mouth now working against your skin, hot and moist. You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly. He looked up briefly to see your reaction and smiled triumphantly, before returning to his task.

You gasped when his tongue traced over your wet folds and you gasped, digging nails into his scalp. You were trembling, barely able to stand straight, barely able to move, barely able to breathe as he kissed you so sweetly down in between your legs. When you thought you couldn't bear it anymore you grabbed his face and pulled him up kissing him desperately, biting at his lips. It only took a moment for him to respond and soon you found yourselvss on the floor, sprawled out on the ground, tangled together, your panties tossed aside and Leon straddling you. He spread your legs, knees pressing to his shoulders.

"um.. are you... ready?.." Leon asked, his forehead against yours. Your heart pounded in response, your chest rising rapidly. "Sorry- I.. was gonna keep going.. I wanted to make you finish-" You stopped his apology by pushing him back and straddling his waist.

"Shut up." You ordered, grabbing his cheeks in either hand and pressing their foreheads together. His eyes shut tightly as you gently stroked his face. "Just.. relax for a minute.." He sighed, relaxing beneath you and opening his eyes as you two kissed, softly at first. After a few minutes, your kisses grew rougher. The two of you returned to your original position, with your lips hovering above his. "Now.." you said breathlessly. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. With your permission, he slid in, his length stretching you perfectly. His movements slow and methodical, but also sloppy. He was just as inexperienced in sex as he was in police work. You bit your lip hard to stop from laughing at how cute he was being, as he thrust into you. As if sensing your thoughts, Leon began to thrust faster, his hands gripping your hips tightly, slipping slightly with each movement.

"oh god-" He whimpered shakily , his pace increasing, sweat beginning to build on his brow as you held him tight. "am I... doing it right?" His voice sounded raspy and he was flushed pink. You laughed.

"Yes!" you breathed, smiling at him. "Are you okay? Is it too much? We can stop -" His hand rested over your lips.

"No, just... be quiet." You gritted out.

"I want you to feel good, okay?" His face contorted. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and stayed still for a while, panting and sweating as he continued to thrust in and out of you. You groaned, wrapping your arms around him, holding on tighter. You felt yourself reaching climax and you knew he was too, although he wasn't quite as vocal about his feelings. You moaned and squeezed his waist with your legs, arching your back, as Leon continued to thrust. His breath coming in short gasps as he grunted and tensed up every once and a while. And finally -

With a gasp, Leon released himself inside you and you shuddered. You leaned forward and kissed his temple, resting your chin on top of his messy hair, as he slowly regained his composure. Once you were both settled back down onto the floor, you relaxed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

Leon turned to look at you. "Officer-"

"Don't ever call me that again." You snapped at him. Leon blinked.

"...Right." He turned back and lay next to you, his eyes drifting shut before opening again.

"I'll get you dressed."

[seelestia]

⟡ to set one's self aflame. (do it all for love.)

⎯ how protective are they of you? how do they protect you and how do they like being protected in return? { s for security ノordered by @phantovia! }

RESERVED FOR! ꒰ character ꒱. lyney ft. gn!reader. { 1.5k words wc }

FLAVOR! ꒰ genre ꒱. fluff & sprinkles of lore angst, established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ꒰ tags ꒱. lowkey a character study made poetic (???). mentions of self-destructive habits, also pls don't smile at lyney bcs he's weak in the knees for u.

BAKER’S NOTE! ꒰ thoughts ꒱. thanks for the req, yona! i got to appreciate this silly guy all over again thanks to u ‹3 ik ur acc is already archived so i hope this made for a nice tribute. pls take care of urself & have a good life ahead 🫂

© seelestia on tumblr, june 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

lyney is protective to a concerning extent. the instinct of an older brother, maybe?

there is some sort of irony to be found in it all since the reason he protects to a 'concerning' extent is out of concern in the first place.

behind his show of brilliance, you consider yourself lucky enough to have witnessed a side to lyney that his audience wouldn't have guessed; that he is a worrier in every aspect of the word. whether for his family, for you, for his friends or for others he comes across that are plagued by misfortune - if all that worry were to come in the shape of dimes, he'd already have an abundance of them to share with the entire nation of fontaine.

but he has no choice, does he?

his background is not a clean slate nor is it a display of sunshine and rainbows resembling his magic shows. lyney's hands are tainted, covered by his gloves as a measly means of self-solace. he has to worry. associating himself deeply and intimately with another is a risk on its own - comparable to dragging someone else down into the murkier depths with him. he can never do that, never has the courage nor the heart to.

(but fortunately for him, you've always been braver than most.)

. . .isn't that why you offered your hand, your trust to him first? he swore to never let you down from that day on.

easier said than done, however.

the house of the hearth operates within the shadows but as for its foes? some also prefer to dwell in the dark and some move in broad daylight. no matter what it is, they all require the same precaution: for him to keep his guard up at all times. every child has been trained by “father” to know that but you're an innocent, tied to this precarious matter merely due to your connection with him.

(“i don't regret anything,” you told him but he didn't look into your eyes, conflicted. you couldn't tell if he believed you or not.)

how was your day? have you eaten? you look sad, did something happen? — all these little questions are a way for him to show that he cares, that you're important, that you're his responsibility and he'll be there for you.

bound by both guilt and love, lyney promises to keep you safe. from whatever kinds of threats there are; whether it be fools with nefarious schemes or even an insect you're too scared to touch, he'll keep you safe all the same. so please, don't hide from him if you're dealing with something. it's better to let him handle it. . . right, correction: the two of you can handle it together.

(truly, his desire to protect can both be his greatest strength and most formidable foe.)

the way lyney protects is through self-sacrifice, granting peace in exchange for destruction of the self.

since the very beginning, lyney has grown used to seeing the world through the lens of a protector.

he recalls the old times where he and lynette loitered the streets in ragged clothes and the only refuge he could provide her with was his hand. it mattered not if he was freezing cold from the rain. . . as long as his little sister was protected, comforted by whatever warmth he had left - it's alright. to do that wasn't an option then, it was a necessity.

to sacrifice himself is a habit. it's easy to adopt but not at all easy to discard.

in lyney's eyes, burdens often seem as if they would be lighter upon his shoulders than they are on another's - but this is only wishful thinking. only meant to convince himself that pain shall eventually lose its harsh bite the more he bears it. “well, has it?” if asked, he cannot give an answer. regardless, that alone is enough of a justification for him because he can't bear the thought of doing anything else; to stand idly by, to be utterly useless.

if he has the means to protect others, why wouldn't he do so? even if he wears himself down to the bone, he’d do it again. akin to a bright flame lit in a hearth, lyney envelopes those near him in a blanket of warmth - and if the blaze threatens to flicker, he'd simply ignite a piece of himself to prevent it from diminishing into futile cinders. he won't let it happen.

(but little does he know that even cinders still serve a purpose. they exist as proof, a sign that his sacrifice has never been in vain.)

in return, lyney feels protected by simply knowing that you're happy (and your acknowledgement of his efforts).

let's call it an innate principle that belongs to a magician; he wants to see smiles on the faces of others. “a smile weighs much lighter for your face to carry compared to a frown, no?” he joked to you once, tapping gently on the corner of his lips with a grin. it was said with a light heart, but you knew he meant it deep down.

(he always does so much, only to ask for so little in return.)

you were not so cruel that you couldn't even grant him that, so you smiled. genuine and grateful. “. . .thank you, lyney,” you said. he fell quiet then. had the wind been knocked out of his lungs or had the world stopped spinning? he thought he saw stars in your eyes, but that couldn't possibly be true. the sun glaring down at him from behind the clouds above remained unmoved.

not like it mattered, anyway. his poor heart was far too occupied with you to care about the answer. “o-oh? you're welcome. . .” lyney blinked, multiple times, dazedly.

gratitude is not a foreign concept to him; he often receives it from an audience member, a lonely elder he briefly chatted with, a fellow member from the house of the hearth — so, just what makes it different now? perhaps, it's because he knows that you've beared witness to his heart that lies deeper within.

that you see right through him, that you're thanking him for who he truly is, although he no longer has a definite image of “self” from the countless white lies piling at his feet like a tower. yet he finds comfort in it, in the way you hold his sullied hands so kindly. he isn't wearing gloves this time. strange, lyney had never imagined transparency to be a feeling so benevolent and cathartic.

no matter what thoughts are buzzing in his head or what ache tugs on his body, they can pester him as much as they'd like - with one swift recall of your smile, lyney feels as if he can banish them even if momentarily. they'll come back sooner or later, he knows, but is it cowardly of him to find solace in that brief respite?

when lynette taps on his cheek to wake him up in the morning, when freminet knocks on his door to deliver something, when other siblings flock around him to welcome him home, or when you come to visit him after a long day — those worries disappear — but even if he already knows that they will make their inevitable return. . . perhaps, everything will be okay.

(it has to be, he tells himself.)

“did something happen yesterday?”

your lunch with a certain feline girl in front of hotel bouffes d'ete kickstarts with a simple question. but the abruptness of it all wipes away the content look on your face and replaces it with a frown.

the tea in your cup reflects your reflection as much as it does your perplexity. lynette lifts her own teacup to her lips, composed while you're lost in thought, confused.

“lyney went home with a wide smile on his face yesterday,” she elaborates, humming either at the tea or at the current matter she's recalling. perhaps, even both but you aren't sure yet. “while this wouldn't be an odd occurrence, i thought there must've been a special occasion to warrant a smile that wide.”

ah. the realization dawns on you in gentle waves. he said something that prompted a smile out of you yesterday — the exchange of a kind “thank you” from your side and a flustered “you're welcome” from his — not that smiling is a rarity around him, hardly, the one thing magicians do best is attract smiles.

your gaze drifts down to stare at nothing in particular. fond memories filled with the face of a familiar magician swims before your eyes. “hm. . . it must've meant a lot more to him than i expected,” you mumble to yourself. in your eyes, you'd think the look on your face represents the paradigm of nostalgia but in lynette's eyes, you look like a madman smiling to yourself so intensely.

“not you too,” she lets out a resigned sigh, placing down her teacup. “smiling to yourself like that. . .” she shakes her head in a disappointed manner, “you and lyney must've been rubbing off on each other these days.”

“maybe a bit too much,” lynette adds, but there is a ghost of a smile on her face this time around.

you can only smile sheepishly.

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

[bubbles0bop]

thankyou for taking reqs!!! jjk- any of the jjk men (preferably suguru/toji/satoru) watching their girl best friend who they claim to have no feelings for whatsoever pole dance for the first time and feeling some typa way lol...it doesn't have to be anything too out there...just a little sensual sultry and moody??? way of the househusband-there arent enough content for this fandom :((- miku is pregnant and tatsu is over the moon...he does EVERYTHINGGG for her to make sure she's all comfy and cared for...

A/N: thank you for requesting! i decided it would be best to split this into two parts where the second will be posted on my page immediately after!

JJK Men Seeing their Crush Pole Dance

Includes: Sataru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro

Disclaimers: Adult content! some feminine descriptives used, clubs, alcohol, smoking, flirting, sexual scenarios, no smut

Sataru Gojo

You and Sataru had been friends for as long as you could remember, practically connected by the hip since childhood and through your teen years.

Even to this day it was a rarity for your friends to see you two separated. The running joke was that everyone knew you both were practically soul mates. You two were the only ones who didn't see it - Living in a slow pit of denial.

One night, you had invited your best friend over for dinner and a movie (which was an often occurrence between you two), as you both enjoyed some sushi on your living room couch.

Almost reaching halfway through the movie, a thought came to your mind, "you know i've been trying this new type of exercise lately..." You trailed off, mouth full of sushi, honestly struggling to be heard over the sound of the TV.

"Good. You need it," Gojo snickered teasingly. God, for as long as he's known you and he still tried to get on your nerves.

"Yeah, you're one to talk- As if you even have any hobbies.." you retorted with a roll to the eye. He mostly ignored your comeback, waiting for you to continue speaking.

"Well, honestly it's kinda out there but i think you'd get a kick of it."

He raised an eyebrow at you, "What is it, naked yoga or something? You really don't need to show me that," He giggled.

You let out a sigh at his poor attempt at a joke, putting your bowl down on the table next to the couch. You stand, waiting for him to follow your actions. He stuffed one large bite of sushi in his mouth before following you down the hall of your apartment towards the bedroom.

What he saw is something that he really did not expect- a tall black pole was bolted from the ceiling to the floor, and it had one obvious purpose.

You laughed to yourself, "Okay, don't make fun of me yet, it really works. Just watch."

He was absolutely stunned by your words, thinking 'she can't actually be serious right now... is this her way of flirting with me?'

In all honesty-maybe it was.

He quickly figured out how seriously you were, as you reach a leg up high, wrapping your knee around the pole, letting it spin you. You let your arm lose and followed this action by grabbing the pole with your hand again, this time above your leg.

Sataru felt heat envelope his whole body. He just watched you out on a show for him, gazing across your body as it moved.

The heat traveled south.

You, the girl he had known since elementary, was in from of him, preforming some sort of performance as if it was just your every day activity.

Soon enough, you catch his gaze and let your movements cease. Your mind envelopes in worry for all the wrong reasons, thinking you've embarrassed yourself.

You blurt out, "Oh god, that was really bad wasn't it? Honestly, I kind of thought it would make you laugh-" Sataru lets you rant as he watches you step closer to him. He doesn't pay an ounce of attention to your speech, though, as he has different thoughts plaguing his mind.

He lets his intrusive thoughts take over his actions, pulling you by your waist and onto his lap. You're sputtering some words of embarrassment and confusion, but Sataru decides that the best way to ease your mind would be to pull you in with a kiss.

God, he's been waiting for this for a long time...

Geto Suguru

Telling Sugaru that you wanted to try a new profession was basically your downfall. While he fully supported you, you first requested that he not visit you at work, mostly because you were new and VERY embarrassed by your "lack of skill."

Honestly, you should have known from the start that he would never listen to you, and would take any chance to witness you being flustered and embarrassed.

You seeing your best friend waltz into the establishment while you were on shift actually turned your cheeks to a darker shade of red than humanly possible. If anyone were to be mistaken, they could've assumed you were on the brink of heat exhaustion. Thankfully, at the current moment, you were serving drinks to the VIP section when you spotted Suguru waltzing in the club.

He scanned the room, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but you duck your head a little lower as an attempt to avoid his gaze.

You took a quick check of the time before bidding your goodbyes to your guests. It was almost time for your turn on stage.

You could feel yourself start to sweat, not wanting to face the embarrassment of your best friend catching you in this state. Making your way through the crowd of men, you are interrupted by the sound of a whistle from across the room.

"Good luck out there." Suguru spoke loudly (as to be heard over the music of the club) and sent you a wink.

You rushed to the back room, face turning res, as you realize you are now definitely going to have to face this humiliating situation.

Your coworker gestures to you as she makes her way off stage, signaling it's your turn. You grab some accessories (a thin scarf- enough to leave nothing to the imagination) and you head towards the stage in a skimpy, feminine outfit.

You receive a generous round of applause from the crowd as you enter stage. The DJ starts playing some sultry music as you approach the middle of the floor and you catch yourself feeling the music.

You start by teasing the crowd, moving through your regular routine.

You pull the scarf away from your shoulders, sensually, revealing more of your cleavage from underneath. You use your scarf to wrap around the pole, moving your leg upwards in a sexy motion.

Suguru found himself getting heated in the crowd as he watched you. You were enticing to every extent. Honestly, he had never really thought about the way that your body could move until this moment, and it turned him on big time.

Recognizing these thoughts brought him to shame, trying to dismiss them. But damn, did you look good. How could you have been embarrassed when you are obviously graced with talent?

He bit his lip at the realization that his pants were becoming tighter and he knew exactly why.

As for you, you finish your set without a second thought, forgetting for a moment about your friend sitting in the audience. You waved a thankful goodbye to the crowd as they clapped their hands together, shooting off whistles. 

You are making your way back to the main floor when you once again encounter your best friend, who was patiently waiting for you outside the door. The actually almost looked a little angry? Was he.. Jealous?

"Hey, Suguru, uhm, how did you like it..?" You asked while rubbing your shoulders, trying to console your own embarrassment.

He replies, raising his chin up in a flirtatious manner, "Oh, I liked it, alright. Maybe from now on i'll have to make private appointments.."

Toji Fushiguro

Being Tojis coworker meant that he always had his eyes on you. So when you casually mentioned to him that you had gotten a side job at the local club, it definitely caught his attention.

It was his idea to go out on a guys night to the same establishment this weekend- a total coincidence, of course.

Him and the guys walked into the club, instantly dispersing into their own areas of pleasure- a couple to the bar, another, off to the dance floor to flirt with some women- but Toji instantly had his eyes on the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

Toji really wasn't shy about his attraction to you, so you have a smokin hot body? Nothin' else to it. Just here to give some oh so loving support to his coworker..

A bouncer walked up to where he sat in the lounge, offering him some drinks, effectively starting his tab for the night. He was served a glass of whiskey, carefully gripping the glass in his hand as he started downing the liquor.

It took one or two performers to finally catch a glimpse of you on the stage. You were adorned in black and waltzing out onto the stage to a sultry song. You didn't seem to pay much mind to the crowd, and definitely not noticing your close friend in the audience.

You started your usual routine, wrapping yourself sensually around the pole, soaking in the sea of eyes in you from around the club. Toji took notice of this, letting out a loud whistle, hoping it would catch your attention away from all the other gazes.

Toji took his eyes off of you for only a mere couple of seconds to look around the room. All eyes were on you as your performance had gained the attention of almost all of the patrons, who had previously been occupied with their own pleasures. This made Toji's stomach start to burn with jealously.

He returned his eyes back to you as you finished the end of your set. He stood up, clapping with the rest of the crowd- this did, however, catch your attention as you walked off the stage, giving a polite wave to the club before disappearing off stage.

You felt your cheeks burn and you lowered your gaze to the black floor, which made a small 'click' with each step of your heels. You really haven't had any shame involving your profession until now, but for some reason you couldn't feel anything other than embarrassment.

You knew that the best way to deal with this was to go out into the crowd and find him, maybe to settle your worries.

You slide through the curtain that separated the crowd from the back stage area, to find Toji once again laying back in his seat in the lounge. This time, he held a sweet cigarette to his lips. He takes one last huff as he watches you strut towards him before tossing it to the nearest ash tray.

"So? You couldn't get enough of me at work?" You question slyly. You assumed he has only come here to embarrass you, but the look in his eye makes you think differently.

A low chuckle falls from his lips as he rises to meet your gaze. "I can't say you're wrong, sweetheart. But that show you gave was more than enough..." His voice was deep and he punctuated his words by laying a seductive hand to your waist. You could tell that he was tipsy but that didn't stop your cheeks from burning at his flirtatious actions. "How about we leave these losers to gawk and catch a room of our own?"

He didn't exactly leave you room to argue as he started pulling your wrist to the nearest exit, not that you really cared to protest anyway.