#You are so perfect in timing and checking in

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Imagine Being Isekai'ed into KPOP DEMON HUNTERS. (Part 1)

The plane was late. The girls weren’t here and Bobby was freaking out. The crowd gathered outside the arena was rising into a crescendo, in raw anticipation. The tension was palpable, it was as if the energy was fizzling from the fans into the very ground of the stadium.

‘Everyone ready? Lets look alive!’ The man with medium length hair spun around, pointing at everyone, checking on progress. Bobby, the manager of Huntr/x frantically flitted around, looking absolutely frazzled.

‘Okay, ready? Yeah, we’re ready. But where are the girls?’ He frowned, turning around to Y/N. The girl in return, shrugged, her eyes glued into her notebook. She was writing a new song. One just in case Huntr/x decided to do another comeback early. The girl group was known for being random with their timings. This meant it make Y/N's job that much harder.

‘Check their location.' She sighed before looking up.

'Although, it isn't exactly unlike them to be late.’ Y/N shrugged, flicking back through her little black notebook. She wrinkled her nose, slightly concerned for the group's well being.

Y/N knew their little secret, for she was their trump card. You see, Y/N was the ghost writer. The one who made sure all the songs went viral, ensuring that the honmoon remained steadfast in its hold. It wasn't an easy job seeing as the songs had to chart well and actually be enjoyable. However, the girls did have great voices so that made it slightly easier.

‘It shows their plane veering off course?’ Bobby flipped his phone around, shoving it above Y/N’s notebook.

The girl looked up and gave a sly grin.

‘Start the music, they’ll arrive.’

Like comets raining down, the three managed to make it onto stage, half way through the song. Y/N looked out into the cheering crowd from behind the curtains, narrowing her eyes at the thin lines rippling with light. Tonight’s concert would be enough. Just enough to keep the shield up. It would hold until their next comeback after this concert. Right?

--

‘Did we just see gold?’ 

‘Ah! I can’t believe we’re doing it!’

‘It’s so exciting!’

The three cheered, shaking each other in sheer joy.

‘This means we can release our song soon and turn the honmoon gold!’ Rumi cheered.

Y/N gritted her teeth, slightly resentful. It was her song. She was the one who wrote it, slaved over it for weeks to make sure it sounded perfect for the girls.

‘It’s finally time!’ Mira exclaimed

‘Wooo!’ Rumi cheered until her voice suddenly cracked, her cheer suddenly muted. ‘Whoa that was weird.’

‘Do you need some water?’ Y/N mumbled, as the elevator doors opened.

‘Did someone say water?’ Bobby grinned, before gesturing frantically and calling out. ‘Water. Now!’

Y/N sighed, walking out from behind the group, watching how they all were showered in praise. Praise that never seemed to be shared with Y/N. It wasn't as if she was asking for all the credit, however it would be nice to hear a thank you once in a while.

‘What a way to end the world tour! And that guy in the finale who exploded confetti?’

‘Amazing special effects.’ Y/N cut in briskly, side eyeing Mira who returned her glance with a slightly panicked one.

‘Yeah it was super chill. Amazing song writing by the way Y/N.’ He added almost as a sidenote.

Y/N sighed and began to zone out. She didn’t need to be there anymore. It was time to go home whilst the girls decided what to do. Y/N had finished writing Golden two weeks before and Huntr/x had already recorded the song, meaning Y/N could rest. It would be a long time since Y/N was able to go home and get a full nights rest instead of being in the studio, mixing and mastering a new song for Huntr/x.

She trudged her way onto the dark streets where her own penthouse apartment resided. It was one of the perks for owning royalty on all the songs of Huntr/x. At least Y/N had been smart enough to invest in the shares of the company with her money. At this rate? She wouldn’t have to work for the next fifty years if she wanted to. Her retirement was set.

The streetlamps left much to the imagination, however, Y/N was too tired to be wary. The streets here were safe. It was a rich neighbourhood anyways. 

Y/N’s phone pinged.

Golden was being released in an hour.

Well that wasn't the plan. But then, did the girls ever tell her of any plans they had? She gritted her teeth, looking at the notification on her phone.

Was it wrong for her to feel slightly resentful? She could see the lines. She could see what the other girls could see, but she couldn’t harness the spiritual power to create a weapon. Y/N was an anomaly. A failure of a hunter.

She scrolled the comments, phone tightening in her hand as she read through each one. The praise was lavished onto the girls. Mira, Zoey and Rumi. Nothing mentioned her, the song writer, the producer. The reason Huntr/x even had songs to sing.

‘You’re looking awfully tense.’ A smooth, plush, voice noted.

Y/N whipped around, brandishing her phone into the shadows.

‘Who’s there?’ She snarled, eyes darting between the flickering streetlights.

‘Don’t be afraid. This won’t hurt one bit.’ Another voice snickered.

…

A pause.

Then another.

Then ten seconds had passed.

‘Um, what?’ The first voice sounded confused.

‘What am I supposed to be waiting for?’ Y/N shifted her posture, now feeling more confident.

‘Your soul. We were meant to take your soul.’ A deep voice muttered, as five boys stalked out of the shadows separately.

‘What the f-’

‘Who are you?’ The one with black hair, took point, walking towards her with a hungry glint.

‘My mother taught me not to tell my name to strangers.’ She snipped back, studying the new figures walking towards her. They were otherworldly in beauty. Jaws chiselled, faces unblemished and fair.

A flash of purple, jagged lines across skin.

‘You’re demons.’ Y/N deadpanned, facepalming. ‘No wonder you’re all so damn pretty.’

The one with pink long hair and heart shaped bangs snickered, sidling up to her. ‘You think we’re pretty?’ He gave a sickly sweet grin, reaching toward her chin.

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself asshat.’ Y/N slapped away his hand. ‘I’m actually not into pretty boys so don’t even try.’ Her body was tight, poised to jump at any time. Even if she couldn't harness the spirit power, she could fight just as well as the rest of the hunters.

‘Maybe she's more into guys like me.’ The one on her left spoke up, shifting into her line of sight.

Y/N’s eyes traced over the muscled man, her eyes lingering on his revealed abdomen as he stretched.

‘Huh, gym rats. Also not my type.’ She shook her head, turning to leave. ‘I’m not into conventionally attractive men. I don’t share.’ 

‘Who says you have to share?’ 

Y/N jumped slightly, surprised by the man with black hair standing now in front of her.

‘We know you write all of Huntr/x’s songs. It’s how they're so popular.’ The one with purple hair, wrapped an arm around Y/N's shoulder.

‘Don’t touch me.’ She brushed him off, backing away into a wall.

‘Yeah?’ The wall replied.

‘Huh?’ Y/N turned around, only to be met by a wall of solid muscle. ‘OKAY STOP.’ She whisper-yelled. ‘What do you guys want from me? I don’t carry cash.’

'What? We don' want your money.' The one with blue hair chuckled, leaning on a lamp post.

'We want something more valuable.' The tallest said, flicking away his pink bangs.

'And that is?' Y/N narrowed her eyes, suspicious of the group of strange yet alluring men.

‘Write for us. We need a debut single in three days.’ The one who looked like the leader gave a wicked smile.

‘What makes you think I would do that?’ Y/N crossed her arms, tilting her head in a question.

‘Because we can give you what you want. Fame, recognition, power.’ 

'Who says-' Y/N began before falling to her knees, clutching her head.

Unbeknownst to her, the boys hurriedly gathered around her as she fell, the closest catching her before she collapsed on her side.

The outside world was suddenly cut off from Y/N's mind. It was silent.

And then it began.

Pain.

Throbbing pain as visions filled her head. It was searing, as if a hot knife were being twisted. Visions, sounds, memories. This wasn’t her world. This was the world of…

KPOP DEMON HUNTERS.

Part 2

[monstersholygrail]

Dove Hybrid bf primps and preens his feathers almost obsessively. Always needing to look his best for you. He wants you to only see the side of him that is pure and perfect. As he hides away the dark part of him that yearns to take you far from here and keep you all to himself.

He’d rather you know him as the boyfriend who eats you out for hours on end, devouring your sweet pussy like he hasn’t eaten for days but now that he’s between your thick thighs he’s enjoying a feast fit for a king.

And not as the boyfriend who jerks off into your panties every morning and coats them in his cum so that his scent is on you for the entire day. Letting any possible threat know that you’re good and taken.

He figures it’s better that you’re only aware of the side of him that asks you how many times he made you cum last time with the clear intent to beat his record. Then he proceeds to make you count every orgasm he fucks out of your cunt till you’re left brainless and unable to utter a single word.

Instead of the side of him that’s memorized your scent so he can know where you are at all times. And even track you down if he senses another male getting too close to you.

He takes pride in the fact that you view him as the sort of boyfriend who can let go of the controls and let you take over when you ask. Allowing you to ride his cock till you physically can’t hold yourself up any longer and only coming when you allow it.

While he also tries to hide the pride in his expression every time he cums deep inside your tight dripping pussy, shooting jets of his release right into your eager womb. Despite telling him over and over again that he needs to wear a condom every time. That you don’t wanna risk getting pregnant. He can’t help himself, you just feel too good bare. Fucking you raw is the best feeling in the world and besides, by time he finally cums you’re always too fucked out to notice. So even then he never fails to look like absolute prefection in your eyes.

In all honesty he doesn’t even have to take so much time prepping himself to look more mesmerizingly beautiful. He just has to keep you drooling and panting for his cock and it’d be enough.

But he actually wants to put in the work for you. He craves your attention and praise. The way your eyes struggle to stop checking him out and you can’t help but shower him with lustful compliments whenever he shows off how gorgeous his feathers look. It all fuels his obsession, making him need more and more of you.

You’re the only one who appreciates him for who he really is. You’re the only one who’s stayed. And he can’t lose you, he won’t. Even if he has to hide part of who he is so that you never stop and never leave. Forever appearing completely flawless in your eyes.

The white purity of his enchanting wings luring you into a trap of which there is no escape.

[dollyswishingwell]

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Insatiable

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ Fluff, smut (not a lot), this would be me yall, ovulating rn fr, who wants this but roles reversed

> ࣪𖤐.��� You simply can’t keep your hand to yourself

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rafayel hadn’t painted in days.

Not because he didn’t want to, but because every time he even tried to so much as touch a brush, a certain beautiful menace was dragging him right back into the bedroom by the collar like a starved kitten with her favorite toy.

His poor shirt was buttoned wrong. His once pristine neck was painted in lipstick marks and bitten raw with hickeys shaped like little hearts. His mouth was kiss-swollen, glossy, and parted slightly as he leaned dizzily against the hallway wall, blinking at you like a drunk man seeing God.

“You’re so sexy,” you purr as you press against him, tracing the line of his jaw with your glossed-up finger. “I can’t help it, Raffy. You just exist and I go stupid.”

“I’m the one who’s gone stupid,” he breathes, voice breaking with a soft giggle as your kisses trail down his throat. “Pretty… crazy… wife, stealing my soul every hour on the hour like it’s your little job or something…”

And oh, you did treat it like a job. Like a full-time, salaried position with benefits and paid leave you’d never take. You’d strut around the estate in your little silk robe and thigh-high socks, looking every bit like a forbidden painting, before grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him off again with a wicked grin.

“You’re literally glowing,” you coo, nose brushing against his cheek as you admire your latest work, him. “Look at you. Covered in my kisses. I’m so proud. You’re such a good boy~”

“Nngh—” Raf’s knees buckle.

He slumps into your arms, completely pliant, like you’ve melted every one of his bones with love. His purple lashes flutter, and a dreamy pink tinge sits high on his cheeks.

“My beautiful wife thinks I’m sexy…” he whispers like he’s about to start sobbing. “I’m never recovering from this…”

You tug him close, letting him sink into your arms as you back into the bedroom again, for the fifth time this afternoon.

“Shhh, you don’t need to recover, raffy,” you whisper against his mouth. “You just need to lie back and let me show you how much I love your stupidly perfect body.”

The door clicks shut.

His palette stays untouched. His shirt stays halfway unbuttoned. And the only brush that sees use tonight… is the one tangled in your hair as he whines your name against the sheets, dizzy on your love.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

Zayne was a mess.

Not in the way most people would ever see. Oh no, publicly, he was still Dr Zayne: the cold, composed, genius heart surgeon. Not a strand of black hair out of place, not a single button undone. Calm. Elegant. Untouchable.

But privately?

Privately he was currently standing in the master bedroom with his tie yanked loose, shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and covered in so many lipstick kisses it looked like you’d stamped him into a love letter.

He leaned one hand on the doorframe for balance, panting softly, collar tugged and wrinkled from where you’d dragged him inside yet again.

“…Sweetheart.” His voice was hoarse. “I have patients to check in on.”

“Nope,” you hummed, already circling him like a little spoiled lioness in silk and perfume. “You’re my patient now. And you’re staying in bed until I say you’re discharged.”

Zayne blinked slowly, like his brain was still buffering from your kisses. His tie slipped from his neck entirely. His hands were on your waist before he could even think.

“You’re addicted,” he murmured, but his voice was low and warm, full of amusement and just the slightest tremble of surrender.

“You’re the one who walks around this house in tight black shirts like a walking wet dream,” you purred, fingers tracing down his abs like he was sculpted marble. “I told you I married you for your body, doctor.”

“…You married me because I own five estates, pay your credit cards off before you even check them, and give you four-hour back massages when you throw tantrums.”

“And also because your V-line is actually life-ruining,” you whisper against his skin before planting yet another lipstick-stained kiss just above his waistband.

Zayne groaned softly. His eyes fluttered half-lidded as he let you press him back against the bed, his gorgeous, sharp-featured face already dazed. There were kiss marks on his hips now. On his collarbone. On the inside of his wrist where you bit down gently just to hear him exhale.

“You’re…unbelievable,” he muttered, voice cracking faintly as you straddled him.

“Mmhm.” You smiled sweetly. “But you love it.”

“…Unfortunately.”

He was so gone for you. Even as his toned arms lay limp against the pillows, even as his body was flushed and marked and glowing under the soft bedroom light, he still looked at you like he couldn’t believe he got to keep you.

And when you leaned down and whispered, “Gonna ride my sexy husband like it’s a sport,” Zayne swore under his breath, caught your hips, and dragged you down hard, like he wasn’t the one who needed a break from you.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Xavier didn’t know what time it was.

He was shirtless, breathless, and leaning against the plush velvet headboard like he’d just been gently murdered, his silver hair mussed beyond repair and his elegant neck covered in pink-gloss lip prints and fluttery love bites. The silk sheets were halfway down his waist, revealing the faintest trace of toned abs and flushed skin from yet another… session.

He blinked slowly as you crawled up his body again like a smug little kitten, still glowing, still in that ridiculous frilly negligee he’d bought you just to see you ruin it.

“Starlight…” His voice was low, dazed. “You pulled me in here… five times today.”

“Because you’re the prettiest thing in this entire penthouse,” you coo, kissing under his jaw. “And because I’m addicted to my beautiful husband. Do you want me to stop?”

His arms immediately wrap around your waist, possessive and needy even in his exhaustion.

“…No.”

You giggle and start kissing a new trail across his collarbone, admiring your work. His skin is pale and smooth, your lipstick imprinted all over him like you’d stamped him as your personal property.

He watches you with half-lidded, adoring blue eyes, high on your touch and murmuring things like:

“You’re insane…”

“You keep marking me like a wolf in heat…”

“…I love it.”

His long fingers trail up your thigh lazily, a soft smirk playing on his lips despite how flushed and breathless he is.

“You think I’m sexy?” he whispers, a little teasing, a little desperate.

You pause, eyes widening slightly like he just said the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard. You grab his face with both hands.

“Xavier,” you say, deadly serious. “I think you’re the sexiest man alive. I think you’re so hot it should be criminal. I think you were genetically engineered to ruin me.”

“…Okay.” He swallows. “I’m going to cry now.”

He actually does look like he might, his ears go a little pink and he hides his face in your neck, letting out a muffled groan as you stroke his silver hair and hum softly.

You’re not sure how long you lay there cuddling, but the second you so much as shift your hips,

He flips you under him.

“…One more,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “For science. For your addiction.”

And just like that, your sexy, sleepy, otherworldly husband is back in action, completely high on your love, his toned body shivering under your touch, whispering against your lips like a prayer:

“Keep calling me sexy. I’ll never get tired of it…”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

Sylus looked like he’d just walked off the cover of a scandalous magazine, shirt half open, silver hair tousled to hell, red eyes heavy-lidded and dazed, his pale skin littered in deep wine-colored love bites and obscene lipstick prints that trailed all the way from his collarbones down past his abs.

He sat back on the edge of the bed with a lazy smirk and a hand in his hair, exhaling a breathy little laugh like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

Again.

You were already crawling into his lap again.

“Kitty,” he murmured, amused. “I’ve got six missed calls. Three international meetings. A contract waiting to be signed. And here you are… pulling me back into bed for the fourth time in a row.”

“You look too good to ignore,” you say sweetly, arms looped around his neck. “Your body makes me feral, Sylus. You want me to just not jump you every hour? That’s unrealistic. Be serious.”

His eyes crinkle faintly with laughter, head tilting slightly as he studies you with that sharp, slow-burning gaze of his.

“You’re obsessed.”

You hum, nuzzling into his chest. “You made me like this. With your stupid abs. And that sexy little vein on your forearm. And your voice. And the way you look at me when you’re about to ruin my life.”

“Is that so?” His voice dips low, velvety and smug. “Because I’m the one covered in gloss and claw marks, kitten.”

He glances down at the state of himself, shirt wrinkled, belt unbuckled, skin decorated in possessive little reminders of your obsession, and lets out a pleased sound, like your addiction entertains him.

“You’ve been dragging me by the tie into the bedroom like a starving wife with a rich, sexy trophy husband,” he muses. “You want me that badly, huh?”

You climb into his lap fully, pressing a line of kisses up his throat.

“I want you all the time,” you whisper. “I want you spoiled, smug, and shirtless. I want you dizzy and wrecked and begging me not to kiss you again, and then still moaning when I do.”

He stares at you for a beat. Then lets out the lowest, filthiest chuckle.

“God, I love you.”

You grin as he pulls you down again, flat against the mattress, his hands already slipping under your silk slip.

And as he kisses you, slow, possessive, devastating, you feel him murmur against your lips with that teasing, breathy tone of his:

“Next time you drag me in here like that, at least let me close the damn door.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

Colonel Caleb was wrecked.

His dark brown hair was tousled from where you’d been tugging at it, his uniform shirt was halfway off, gold buttons undone and hanging off one shoulder, and his neck and chest were littered in bright pink lipstick kisses and faint purple bite marks. The top of his black undershirt was soaked in your gloss from where you’d kissed him through the fabric just to be dramatic.

He leaned heavily against the wall outside the bedroom, blinking like he’d just emerged from an oxygen-deprived fever dream.

You peeked your head around the corner, grinning sweetly.

“There you are!” you chimed, grabbing him by the collar. “Round five.”

Caleb flinched. Physically flinched. The collar of his once-pristine Fleet uniform was already stretched from being yanked on all day.

“Baby,” he said, voice hoarse and barely holding it together. “I can’t feel my legs. I, my whole body’s shaking. You’ve been dragging me back into the bedroom every hour like you’re on a mission.”

You beamed up at him with glossy lips and a wink. “That’s because I am. Operation: Ruin My Sexy Caleb.”

“…You need supervision,” he muttered, cheeks slightly flushed, glancing down at the mess you made of him.

“Mm-mm.” You tugged him close, palms flat against his bare chest. “What I need is your stupid hot body inside me again. You’re so big and strong and mean-looking but you fall apart the second I kiss your tummy, and it’s just so cute, I can’t stop.”

His entire body locked up.

“…Stop saying things like that with a straight face, Pips.”

You tilted your head innocently. “But it’s true. You’re my beautiful husband and I’m addicted to you. Look at you. All marked up and dizzy and mine.”

He tried to be grumpy, he really did. But the moment your fingers traced down his abs, his knees gave just slightly and he cursed under his breath.

“I was in a meeting,” he muttered. “Now I’m in your mouth.”

“You’re welcome.”

You grabbed him by the waistband, giggling like a spoiled brat dragging her favorite toy back to her castle. Caleb just sighed and followed, completely under your spell, his rough soldier hands already sliding around your waist.

“Y’know,” he murmured as you pushed him down onto the bed again, “when we first moved into this penthouse, I thought I was locking you up.”

You straddled him, planting another kiss on his cheek with a dramatic mwah and a fresh lipstick print.

“Oopsie. Looks like I’m the one keeping you in bed now, Colonel.”

“…Yeah.” His voice cracked softly. “And I love it.”

And with that, your big, scary Colonel husband, blushing and covered in kiss marks, let out a groan of surrender and let you ruin him all over again.

[heeluvv]

˗ˏˋ 07. FIRST TIMER ˎˊ˗

pairingᝰ.ᐟ yang jungwon x reader

warningsᝰ.ᐟ masturbation, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, etc.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

statusᝰ.ᐟ 7/9 completed!

the late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds in slatted gold, painting the apartment floor in soft stripes of warmth that stretched toward the kitchen. the air was quiet, too quiet, filled only with the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the wood beneath shifting weight. sunoo leaned against the counter, his posture casual but his expression anything but, the curve of a knowing smile tugging at his lips as he twisted the cap on a water bottle absentmindedly. across the room, jungwon sat curled up on the couch with his legs folded beneath him, his brows slightly furrowed as he glanced between sunoo and jake, sensing something was off. jake hadn’t said much since jungwon walked in—his arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes unreadable as they lingered on the floor and then flicked up every now and then, like he was holding something back. jungwon couldn’t tell if it was tension or anticipation that made the silence stretch so long, but either way, he felt it crawling up his spine. finally, it was sunoo who broke it, sighing through his nose before speaking in a quiet but steady voice. “i’m just gonna say it—we’re all kind of losing our shit over the same girl.”

the words seemed to echo in the stillness, landing heavier than jungwon expected as he blinked, startled. he didn’t interrupt, didn’t even breathe for a second, just watched sunoo’s fingers trace along the ridge of the bottle like he needed something to do with his hands. “heeseung, jay—almost all of us and now me too,” sunoo continued, his voice softer now, tinged with something close to disbelief. “we’ve all worked with her. and i don’t mean just filmed with her—i mean something’s different. she’s not like the others.” jungwon stayed quiet, the room feeling suddenly too warm as the weight of their obsession unfolded in front of him, more real now than any of the quiet mutterings he’d overheard before. the tension that had been brewing in the background of their group dynamic now made perfect sense—the sidelong glances, the vague references, the sudden drops in conversation when he walked in. sunoo shifted then, the mood lifting slightly as he tilted his head, tone taking on a teasing lilt. “you should check her out, won. the subs have been begging you to collab anyway. might as well see what you’re missing.” something deep in jungwon’s chest stirred at the suggestion—not just curiosity, but something hotter, something restless. “maybe i will,” he muttered, barely above a whisper, before rising to his feet with a determined set to his jaw.

the hallway was cooler, dimmer as he padded quietly toward the room at the end, his heart picking up pace for reasons he didn’t want to name yet. he paused outside ni-ki’s door, knuckles tapping twice before he pushed it open without waiting for a response. the scent of fabric softener and faint cologne hit him first, followed by the soft glow of ni-ki’s laptop screen as he sat at his desk, eyes flicking up to meet jungwon’s with mild surprise. “i think i’m gonna do it,” jungwon said, voice quiet but steady, his fingers curling into the pockets of his hoodie as he leaned against the frame. ni-ki didn’t respond right away—just arched a brow, gaze narrowing slightly as he waited for more. “i want to collab with her,” jungwon clarified, and though he didn’t say your name, they both knew who he meant. “the guys are all hooked and… i want to understand why. i think it’s time i actually start doing this for real.” ni-ki leaned back in his chair slowly, a smirk playing on his lips, but his tone stayed calm. “you sure? that’s not just a toe dip—you’re diving in.” jungwon nodded once, resolve settling behind his nerves. “if anyone’s gonna get me to do it, it’s her.” ni-ki gave a slow shrug and turned back to his screen. “then go for it,” he said simply. “but let me know if she’s really as addictive as they say.”

—

jungwon lies in bed, the sheets rumpled beneath him, legs slightly tangled as he props his phone just above his chest, the glow from the screen casting a faint shimmer over his features. the room is quiet except for the low hum of his fan, and the soft golden light from his desk lamp spreads across the duvet, flickering every time he shifts his hand or thumb taps against the glass. he’s been thinking about it all day—about the way sunoo leaned back in his chair, half-sighing as he talked about you, about how real his words had felt even when said with a smile. it wasn’t just the teasing tone or the half-jokes about how you had all of them wrapped around your finger—it was something deeper, something that stayed behind long after the conversation ended. jungwon had seen it in their eyes too—that distant dazedness whenever you came up, like you were still in the room even after they left you behind. it haunted him more than it should’ve, the image of someone they all seemed unable to forget, someone they never even described in detail. it felt like they were guarding something, like they wanted to keep you for themselves, and that alone made curiosity bloom hot and anxious in his chest. he didn’t know why it was affecting him this way—but it was, and it wasn’t going away. so he finally gives in, fingers hovering only a second before tapping into his chat with sunoo, typing out the message quick and messy before the nerves could tell him not to.

“hey… what’s her username?” 

and before he even locks his phone, his response comes back in a blink. 

@babydollxo, just so you know her name is y/n

no hesitation, just the bare name like he’s handing him the last puzzle piece. his thumb hovers for a second before he clicks over to the site, breathing slowly through his nose as he searches the tag, chest already tight with anticipation. and when your page loads, it’s like something in him stills completely—no profile photo, no long description, just two videos and a name that shouldn’t feel this intimate, but already does. he doesn’t even realize he’s started biting his lip until he presses play.

the first video begins slow, barely lit, the frame hazy in a way that looks accidental at first—until he realizes every detail is intentional, curated to feel soft and close and personal. you’re on your back, hand between your thighs, the lighting angled low so that your skin glows in soft gold and pink, every part of you glistening under the faint shimmer of sweat. your voice is quiet but clear, breathy like you’re whispering directly into his ear, like he’s stumbled into something he shouldn’t be seeing, but now that he is, he can’t look away. your hips lift slightly with each circle of your fingers, your thighs trembling, and the camera stays still—clean, unshaken, perfectly steady as if it were made just for his eyes. his hand dips under your waistband without thinking, his fingers wrapping slowly around himself as the pressure builds low in his stomach. he strokes once, twice, syncing with the way your breath catches, matching your pace as you whimper something too soft to catch but loud enough to ruin him. he exhale shakily, eyes glued to the screen, and his hips twitch forward as you arches, moaning for someone that isn’t him—but still somehow feels like it could be. his thumb brushes over the head of his cock and he hisses, teeth gritting as he closes his eyes briefly, trying not to fall apart before he even gets to the second clip.he pauses, heart pounding, fingers slick with precum as he hovers over the next thumbnail, the preview showing just the outline of your thighs and the curve of your stomach. his breath is ragged now, chest rising and falling with a kind of urgency he doesn’t recognize in himself, and for a second he considers stopping—just waiting until tomorrow, until he’s more in control. but he can’t. not when he’s already this far, not when the tension in his body is wound so tight that it hurts to move slowly. he taps the screen again, the second video loading with a flicker, and this time your kneeling—closer to the lens, your eyes still out of frame, but everything else on full display. the way your fingers glide between your legs is slower now, almost teasing, like you know someone new is watching. he swallows hard, gripping himself tighter as your moans rise softly into the silence, echoing off the walls of his room like they were made just for him. his hips jerk into his palm and he bites down on a whimper, heat coiling deep in his stomach as your pace builds again, and he can’t stop the way his hand moves faster—matching yours, chasing the same high.

he can’t help it anymore—he whispers your name, not even realizing it had left his lips until the syllables echo faintly in the space around him, his body tenses and trembles as his orgasm builds fast, urgent, relentless. your voice breaks in the video just as his does in real life, and he fall over the edge with a gasp, head falling back against his pillows, hand still stroking through it as he rides the wave to its end. the screen starts to fade into black, the last frame frozen on the soft part of your lips, swollen and wet with the weight of your pleasure, and he feels dizzy—like he’s just stepped out of something too big for his chest. his breath evens out slowly, chest still rising, and he closes his eyes for a beat, letting the air settle before glancing down at your username again. @babydollxo. it repeats in his mind like a chant, like a craving, and even though he had just finished, his fingers twitch with the urge to open the messages. not for a follow. not even to tip. but to say something.

something that would make you look at him next.

—

the soft chime of your doorbell slices through the quiet of your apartment, jolting you from the stillness that had settled like dust around you. your laptop hums quietly from the couch, screen still open on a half-finished assignment, but your focus has already scattered as your bare feet move toward the front door with hesitant steps. when you pull it open, expecting maybe a neighbor or a delivery you forgot about, you’re met with an empty hallway—silent, untouched—except for the delicate bouquet resting against the doorframe like a secret left behind. your breath catches in your throat as you crouch to pick it up, fingers brushing over the velvety petals, the soft pastel shades blooming like a painting against the late afternoon light. it smells like warmth and something tender—roses, peonies, tiny sprays of baby’s breath—and nestled between the stems is a folded piece of paper, your name written on it in handwriting you didn’t recognize. you shut the door behind you as you step back inside, setting the bouquet gently on the kitchen counter before slipping your finger under the lip of the note and unfolding it with care. 

i didn’t think one night could do this to me. but it did. maybe it was the way you said my name. maybe it was the way you didn’t treat me like i was just another collab—like i was someone worth seeing, worth touching slowly, worth remembering. i’ve watched the video more times than i should admit. not for the content, but because of the way i felt in it. with you. i want to know what’s behind the camera. i want to see you again—really see you. not to film. not to fuck. just to feel whatever this is, for real.

yours truly,

heeseung.

you read it again, slower this time, your chest tightening with every sentence, your hand flattening against the cool counter just to ground yourself, because it’s too much—too beautiful—and you don’t know what to do with it.

you stare at the flowers a moment longer, letting the scent and sentiment soak into your skin, before you’re pulled away by the buzz of your phone from the couch behind you. it vibrates once, sharp and sudden, and you move on autopilot, padding across the room with your heartbeat still fluttering against your ribs, unsure if you want it to be him again or if that would make it worse. but it’s not heeseung. it’s someone new—unexpected. your phone lights up with a new notification from a username that triggers something distant in your memory: 

@wonsodirty

 you stare at it for a second, blinking slowly as your thumb hovers over the alert, something curling in your stomach—not anxiety exactly, but something heavier, something curious.

 wonsodirty: “hey… i’ve been thinking about something. want to collab?” 

the words feel weightless and loaded all at once, the kind of casual that masks a storm underneath, and suddenly you're remembering the preview clip you watched when you first joined—him, soft-spoken but intense, his voice low and his eyes dark. you’d forgotten about him in the chaos of everything else, the whirlwind of heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon and sunoo—but now here he is, quiet and unexpected, slipping into your inbox with a tension that coils low in your spine.

you don’t open the message right away. your fingers linger above your screen as you sink into the couch, the petals of heeseung’s bouquet still within view on the kitchen counter, their colors glowing softly under the golden hour light. it’s too much at once—too many emotions curling around each other, too many paths tugging at your sleeve. you press your phone to your chest for a moment, as if stilling the beat of it might still your thoughts too, but your heart only stutters harder beneath the weight of it. eventually, you unlock the screen and reread jungwon’s message, the simplicity of it making your breath falter in a way you didn’t expect. it’s not forward, not demanding—just thoughtful, tentative, like he’s trying to enter without disturbing something delicate. your thumbs hover over the keyboard as you try to decide how to respond, caught between the memory of his voice in that short preview and the softness you’d always sensed beneath it. finally, your fingers start to move, slow but certain: 

“sure… i’d love to. when were you thinking?” 

you hit send before you can second-guess it, the air still thick around you, and immediately, three dots bounce on your screen like they’ve been waiting there all along.

his reply comes almost instantly, and you can practically hear his tone in the way he types, every message carefully spaced like he’s trying not to overwhelm you. 

wonsodirty: “is tonight okay?” 

he asks, then quickly follows upwonsodirty: “if not that’s okay too, i just… want to talk to you. maybe plan something?”

it’s the second message that tugs at you—gentle, unsure, like he’s afraid of getting it wrong. and there’s something about it that makes your chest ache, because it doesn’t feel like someone reaching for content, it feels like someone reaching for connection. you tuck your legs underneath you, blinking at the flowers on the counter again before shifting your gaze back to your phone, your breath catching slightly when you read his next text. 

wonsodirty: “i know this is random. but you’ve kind of been stuck in my head lately.” 

it echoes too closely to the letter you just read, the one still folded neatly on your counter, and you close your eyes for a second, wondering what the hell the universe is trying to tell you. but when you open them again, you’re typing your address, fingers trembling slightly, a small smile pulling at your lips despite the confusion bubbling underneath. 

“come over” 

—-

the knock is gentle, barely louder than the hum of your thoughts, but it’s enough to pull you back to the present. your fingers twitch as you smooth the front of your shirt, brushing down fabric that doesn’t really need adjusting, and you let out a quiet breath that feels more like a sigh. your heart beats a little quicker—not out of fear, but something closer to nerves, anticipation folding into curiosity. you cross the room in slow steps, every footfall padded against the floor, and when your hand turns the lock and pulls the door open, everything halts. he’s standing there like he wasn’t prepared to see you, like your face caught him off guard in the most disarming way. his eyes catch the light, wide and almost sparkling, and his mouth parts slightly—no greeting, no hello, just a soft stunned silence that says more than words ever could. “come in,” you say gently, your voice soft with amusement, and his gaze doesn’t shift even as he moves forward, as if he’s still processing the fact that you’re real. the door clicks closed behind him, and you can’t help the quiet giggle that escapes you when he lingers there, stuck in place like he’s forgotten what he’s supposed to do.

he clears his throat awkwardly, the sound small in your cozy living room, and his eyes flick from the couch to the shelves to the soft throw blanket hanging off the side of the armchair. it’s like he’s memorizing everything, like the details of your space matter just as much as the way you looked when you answered the door. “it’s just me for now,” you offer, your voice filling the silence with a kind of casual comfort. “my roommate won’t be here tonight.” he nods, once, then again a little slower, as if your words need time to settle inside him. there’s a flush on his cheeks, barely there but unmistakable, and when his eyes finally return to yours, they hold something fragile. “i’m sorry for the way i’m acting,” he says quietly, almost like it’s embarrassing to admit. “you’re just so… pretty.” the words land soft but heavy, and for a second, neither of you moves—like the air between you has thickened with meaning, like this is the start of something that neither of you can take back.

you feel the compliment land somewhere low in your chest, warm and grounding, like the way sunlight lingers on your skin even after you’ve stepped into the shade. there’s a breathless kind of hush in the room now, not uncomfortable, but charged—like both of you are waiting for the other to move first. “thank you,” you say softly, the corners of your lips tugging upward, and when he offers you the smallest, most earnest smile in return, it makes your heart stutter. “do you wanna sit?” you ask, your hand motioning toward the couch, and he nods a little too quickly, like he’s afraid you might take the offer back. jungwon moves carefully, like he’s trying not to disturb anything, his shoulders stiff with the weight of being in unfamiliar territory—but when he finally settles beside you, he exhales like he can breathe again. there’s a moment of silence as your knee brushes his, just barely, and you see the way his jaw clenches before he dares to glance at you again. “i’m a little nervous,” he admits, voice low, almost apologetic, as he tugs at the hem of his sleeve like it’s a lifeline. “but i wanna do this... with you,” he adds, eyes searching yours, and something inside you softens at how genuine he looks—like there’s no performance, no script, just him wanting to be seen.

you turn to face him fully now, folding one leg beneath you, and rest your hand gently against his arm, grounding him with your touch. “you don’t have to be anything but yourself, jungwon,” you say, and you mean it—it’s in your voice, steady and sure, wrapping around his nerves like a balm. he breathes in deep, then lets it go slowly, his eyes fluttering closed for half a second before he opens them again, this time steadier. “i’ve never done this before,” he confesses, the tips of his ears flushing red, but there’s no shame in it—just honesty, unfiltered and laid bare for you to take or leave. “then we’ll go slow,” you assure him, your thumb brushing gently over his knuckles, and it’s that small touch that finally lets him lean into the moment instead of away from it. you lean in first, bridging the space between you without rushing it, and when your lips meet his, it’s tender and coaxing, like an invitation rather than a command. jungwon responds with the hesitancy of someone unused to being wanted like this, but his hands still find your waist, fingers pressing in as he starts to kiss you back, more sure of it this time.

you pull back just enough to see the soft flush blooming across jungwon’s cheeks, his eyes still heavy-lidded from the kiss, lips parted like he’s chasing the ghost of your mouth. “come with me,” you whisper, fingers curling around his hand as you rise to your feet, and he follows without question, the grip he has on you just tight enough to say he doesn’t want to let go. the hallway is quiet as you guide him toward your bedroom, each step thick with anticipation, the air between your bodies humming with the weight of everything left unsaid. once inside, you release him gently, letting him take in the space while you move toward the dresser and retrieve your small tripod, adjusting the angle to face the bed in soft lighting. he watches you silently, like every motion is a spell, and when you click the record button on, you glance over your shoulder to meet his gaze. “do you trust me?” you ask, voice soft but serious, and jungwon doesn’t hesitate—he nods, stepping closer, eyes steady as he says, “yes. i trust you.” the words settle deep in your chest, something grounding and intimate in the way he gives himself over to the moment without hesitation.

you walk to him slowly, closing the space between your bodies until your fingertips brush along the hem of his shirt, dragging upward with unhurried care as you ease the fabric over his head. his skin is warm beneath your touch, and when your palms glide up his chest, he shivers just slightly, breath hitching as your mouth finds his again—this time deeper, hungrier, filled with something that pulses between your ribs. jungwon kisses like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you, the rhythm, the taste—his hands resting at your hips, not pulling, just holding like he doesn’t want the moment to slip through his fingers. your fingers trail down his sides, nails skimming gently along his waist, and the way he exhales against your lips makes heat curl low in your stomach. you press forward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits without protest, eyes locked on yours with something close to awe. “you’re doing so good,” you murmur, brushing his hair back from his face, and his lips part, pupils blown wide as he whispers your name like it’s the only thing anchoring him to earth. you climb onto his lap slowly, knees bracketing his thighs, your lips grazing his as you whisper, “let me take care of you.”

your lips barely leave his for more than a breath before you're pulling him in again, letting the kiss grow slower, deeper, more consuming with every tilt of your head. jungwon trembles under your touch, his hands gripping your waist like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth, his breath hitching every time your tongue brushes against his. you can feel how hard he is through his sweats, the way he jerks faintly every time your body presses a little too close, and it only spurs you on—makes you kiss him harder, hungrier, your fingers threading through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. his hips twitch up into yours without meaning to, and when you moan softly into his mouth, he breaks—his fingers digging into your sides, a stuttered gasp leaving him as he whines your name against your lips. you feel the sudden warmth through the fabric, the way his body jerks again, overwhelmed, as he finishes just from the way you kiss him like he means something. his breath shakes as it catches in his throat, chest heaving as his eyes flutter open slowly, dazed and glassy and full of disbelief. “i’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice cracking with embarrassment, his cheeks flushing a deep, gorgeous red that creeps down his neck. but you only smile, brushing your nose against his and kissing the corner of his mouth like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“don’t be,” you murmur, voice soft and warm as your hands cradle his jaw, grounding him. “that just means i’m doing something right.” jungwon swallows hard, blinking up at you like he doesn’t know what to do with himself now, but he still doesn’t let go—his hands slide up to your waist again, gripping like he doesn’t want you to move.

his brows twitch like he wants to say something more, maybe apologize again, but you hush him with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another along his jaw. your fingers slide down his chest, slow and careful, feeling the way he shivers under your touch as you trail lower, past his stomach, to the waistband of his sweats. “can i?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, even though the room feels thick with tension already. he nods immediately, breath catching as he shifts his hips to give you room, his eyes glued to your hands like he can’t believe this is really happening. “i wanna make you feel good,” you murmur, and he swallows so hard it makes his whole throat jump, his body going still as your fingers dip beneath the waistband and tug gently.

he helps you out of your clothes as you help him out of his sweats slowly, letting them slide down his legs until he kicks them off the edge of the bed, his thighs trembling faintly with leftover tension. jungwon’s cock is already sensitive, the head flushed a deep pink and still glistening slightly from the mess he made earlier, and you lean down to kiss his inner thigh first, soft and slow. the sound he makes is quiet—just a shaky little exhale that leaves his lips parted, his head tilted back against the pillow as he watches you with wide eyes. your tongue traces a warm path up his thigh before you press another kiss just beside his length, and he twitches in response, his hand fisting into the sheets. “you don’t have to—” he starts, voice ragged, but you silence him with one look, your fingers wrapping gently around his cock. “i want to,” you say, firm and sure, and then you lower your mouth, letting your tongue flick over the head in one slow, teasing pass that has his hips jerking before he can stop them.

you hum softly as you take him deeper, your hand stroking what your lips can’t reach yet, and jungwon’s entire body tenses beneath you like he’s caught between pleasure and disbelief. “oh my god,” he whispers, his voice breaking on the edges of every syllable, his hand hesitating in the air before it finally lands on your shoulder, gripping softly. he’s trying not to move, trying not to buck into your mouth, but you can feel how hard it is for him to stay still—especially when your lips sink lower, your cheeks hollowing around him. his thighs tighten around your arms, his breath turning into these quiet, whimpering little gasps that make you want to push him even further. you bob your head slowly, keeping the rhythm steady, letting the suction drag heat up his spine with every pass. his fingers tighten against your shoulder, and his voice comes out broken when he breathes, “you feel—fuck, you feel so good.” and you glance up, eyes meeting his, just in time to see the way his lips part wider, completely undone.

jungwon’s hand trembles against your shoulder, fingers flexing like he’s trying to ground himself, to stop the overwhelming heat that’s rushing straight to his gut. you can feel it in the way his hips twitch beneath you, the way his thighs begin to shake as he whispers your name like a secret prayer, caught between panic and bliss. “w-wait,” he breathes, chest heaving as his voice cracks, “fuck, i’m gonna—” but the words never finish because your tongue swirls around the head just right and his whole body jolts like he’s been shocked. you ease up just enough to tease him again, letting your lips ghost over the tip with a hum, and his eyes roll back for a second before he clenches them shut. “i can’t… not like this again,” he stammers, his other hand fumbling to touch your wrist, to signal anything through the haze clouding his mind. “please… can i—can i be inside you?” he asks, the plea barely above a whisper but thick with yearning. you pause, blinking up at him as your hand strokes him gently, and the look on his face is one of pure need—desperate and soft and honest.

you release him with one last kiss just above his base, dragging your lips upward until they reach his stomach, pressing small kisses into his skin as you make your way back up to straddle his waist. jungwon’s hands rise automatically to hold your hips, his fingers splayed wide like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. you smile down at him, your hair falling over your shoulder as you lean in to kiss him, slower this time, letting him taste himself faintly on your tongue. he moans into your mouth, his grip tightening, and you feel the way his cock twitches again beneath you, brushing against your inner thigh like he’s barely holding it together. “you sure?” you ask gently, your voice brushing against his lips like silk, and he nods so fast it makes your heart squeeze. “i want it,” he whispers, breath shaky, “i want all of it—please.” your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the way it rises and falls beneath your palm, and you shift your hips forward, dragging your folds slowly along his length. jungwon gasps, his hands flying up to cup your face, and you swear he looks at you like you hung the moon.

his cock presses right where you’re wettest, gliding through the slick mess of your arousal like it was made to be there, and he whimpers when you start to grind against him. “god, you feel unreal,” he breathes, like he’s still trying to believe this is happening, like his mind hasn’t caught up with the fact that you’re not just a screen anymore. you reach down between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance, and his eyes widen when the head catches, parting you just barely. “breathe,” you whisper, watching him fall apart beneath you as you sink down, inch by inch, feeling him stretch you open slowly. jungwon lets out a broken moan, his nails digging into your waist, and his brows pinch together like the pleasure’s almost too much. “you’re so tight,” he groans, voice cracking again, “fuck, i don’t wanna cum yet, i wanna feel you.” you cup his cheek, grounding him, and start to rock your hips gently, letting your walls flutter around him with every movement. his lips part again, and his head tips back against the pillows, pure ecstasy painted across his features.

his hands tremble where they grip your hips, the pads of his thumbs stroking slow, reverent circles into your skin as if trying to memorize every inch. jungwon’s chest rises and falls with labored breaths, the softest little whines slipping from his lips each time your hips roll forward and back again. the heat between your bodies grows thick, humid, his hair clinging slightly to his forehead as his eyes flutter open and closed—completely dazed by how good you feel wrapped around him. “you’re… s-so tight,” he stammers, voice barely holding together, “it’s like—like you’re pulling me in more every time, fuck.” your hands press flat to his chest, feeling the wild pace of his heartbeat as you move slower on purpose, watching his brows furrow and mouth fall open in the prettiest kind of agony. his lips form your name again, this time dragged out between moans, and you can’t help but clench around him just to hear the way his breath catches. “god, i’m not gonna last,” he admits, biting down on his lip like it’ll help, even though his body’s already trembling beneath yours. “you feel too good… you’re too perfect, fuck—i’m never gonna forget this.”

you reach up to brush your fingers through his hair, smiling when he leans into your touch like he’s starved for it, his eyes dazed and glossy as they meet yours again. jungwon’s hands slide up to your waist, holding you tighter like he’s scared this will vanish if he doesn’t ground himself to your body. “i dreamed of this,” he whispers suddenly, so soft you almost miss it, “i’d close my eyes and try to imagine what being inside you would feel like… but nothing ever came close.” your heart stutters in your chest, but you keep your pace steady, dragging your hips forward so slowly it has his jaw dropping open with a choked whimper. “i love how you look like this,” he continues, his voice cracking at the edges, “on top of me… taking control… you’re unreal.” you can feel him twitch inside you, every movement of your body pulling another gasp or broken curse from his mouth as he tries so hard to hold on. your fingers curl around his wrists, encouraging him to just feel, to let go of the tension clinging to his limbs. “you’re so beautiful,” he moans, his grip tightening again, “fuck—i’m gonna say it a thousand times if you keep moving like that.”

his compliments pour from him like he’s lost his filter, everything he’s ever thought about you spilling into the space between your bodies with no shame. he keeps his gaze locked on your face as best he can, even when his eyes go heavy-lidded from pleasure, like he doesn’t want to miss a second of the way you ride him. “i’ve never felt anything like this,” he says again, breathless, “i didn’t know it could feel this good.” your hips slow just slightly, enough to grind down harder and deeper, and he gasps, his head tipping back as his thighs twitch beneath you. “please don’t stop,” he begs softly, the words trailing off into a whimper when your nails drag gently down his chest, “you’re driving me insane, but i want more.” you lean over him, lips grazing his jaw, and he turns his head to catch your mouth in a messy, desperate kiss, moaning into it when you roll your hips just right. his cock throbs inside you with every movement, thick and twitching and so achingly full, and you can feel how close he is already—like he’s trying so hard not to fall apart under you too soon.

you pull away from the kiss just enough to see his face, to watch the way his eyes search yours like he’s trying to hold on to reality. jungwon swallows hard, sweat glistening along his neck, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your waist again like he needs the contact to keep breathing. “you’re all i want,” he whispers, almost like he doesn’t mean to say it out loud, “just you… right here, like this.” the admission makes your chest tighten, warmth blooming in your core as you move a little faster, taking him deeper with each thrust of your hips. his moans grow louder, more broken, as his legs spread wider, his toes curling into the sheets like he’s unraveling with every pass of your body over his. “fuck—please,” he pants, his voice pitching higher as he presses his forehead to your shoulder, “please, i’m so close.” you slow again just slightly, dragging it out, and the sound that leaves his mouth is so needy it has your stomach clenching with heat. “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says between gasps, “but i’d let you ruin me every day if it means i get to feel like this.”

his body jerks beneath you, so sensitive and desperate, his hands now sliding up and down your sides as if grounding himself to the moment will keep him from flying apart. you shift slightly, circling your hips slower, watching the way jungwon’s head tilts back against the pillows, his lips parted in a soft, high moan that sounds like it’s being pulled from the deepest part of him. “please,” he gasps again, his voice trembling, “i’m gonna cum—i can’t—fuck, i’m so close.” but you don’t speed up, not yet, dragging it out just a little longer, watching his pretty face twist with frustration and pleasure so tangled they’re indistinguishable. your fingers stroke down the center of his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm, and he whines—an actual whine—as you tighten around him. “you’re so mean,” he breathes, but there’s no bite to it, only awe and heat and something that sounds dangerously close to love, “but you feel so fucking good, i’d let you do anything to me.” your lips find his again, slow and open-mouthed, your tongue curling against his in a kiss that has his hips jerking helplessly up into yours. he moans into your mouth, his entire body tightening beneath you, and when you finally start to move faster, his hands clamp down on your waist like he’s bracing for impact.

your pace grows steady again, rolling your hips down until you’re grinding into him just right—drawing out every sharp inhale and whimper that escapes his lips as he completely loses himself in you. jungwon’s eyes squeeze shut as his nails dig into your hips, his chest rising and falling so fast you can feel the heat radiating off him in waves. “fuck, fuck—i’m gonna—” he gasps, his words breaking off into a strangled cry as he presses his forehead against your shoulder, hips twitching beneath you. and then it hits him—his body arches, his mouth opens wide in a silent moan, and you feel him pulse deep inside you, thick warmth spreading as he finishes hard, completely undone beneath your touch. “oh my god,” he breathes, voice wrecked and trembling, “you—fuck, you feel like heaven.” his whole body stays tense for a moment before he finally slumps beneath you, chest heaving, skin flushed and damp with sweat. you brush his hair off his forehead gently, smiling when he blinks up at you like he’s still trying to process what just happened. “you ruined me,” he says softly, almost laughing as he says it, but there’s no regret in his voice—only wonder.

he blinks again, chest still rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you watch the way his lashes flutter like he’s on the edge of sleep already. “you didn’t even have to do anything crazy,” he whispers, his voice husky and slow, “just… kissed me. and i was gone.” you giggle under your breath, kissing his cheek before sliding your hand down his chest again, feeling the steady beat of his heart start to slow beneath your fingertips. he gazes up at you like you hung the stars, no trace of embarrassment—just awe, like he still can’t believe you’re real. “you’re amazing,” he says again, and this time it’s quieter, like it’s just for you. “i wanna do everything with you.” you can’t help but lean down again, your mouth brushing his as he sighs softly against your lips, completely soft now but still clinging to you like he never wants this moment to end.

his body is still warm against yours, his cheek resting on your chest as you both lie tangled together beneath the sheets, the room dim and silent except for the slow rhythm of your breaths. jungwon’s lashes flutter every now and then, like he’s drifting but fighting to stay awake, and you feel the rise and fall of his chest settle into something peaceful. your fingers thread lazily through his hair, combing back the soft strands that cling to his forehead, and he hums low in his throat—soothed, comforted, held. “i don’t want this to end,” he whispers suddenly, his voice thick with sleep but laced with something fragile, something real, as his arm curls tighter around your waist. you freeze just a little at the weight of the words, heart squeezing as your hand slows in his hair, your lips parting to respond but no words come out. he doesn't seem to notice your silence, only nuzzles closer, his nose brushing the space just beneath your collarbone before he lets out a breath that sounds like surrender. “you make everything feel calm,” he murmurs, quieter now, like he’s speaking into a dream, “like it’s okay to be soft here.” you press a kiss to the crown of his head, still unable to speak, because there’s something about the way he clings to you—not just with his hands, but with his whole body—that makes you want to hold him even tighter.

his thumb rubs slow circles into your side as his breathing evens out, and you stare up at the ceiling, your own thoughts unraveling like thread with every second that passes. you weren’t supposed to feel this much, not with any of them, and yet here you are—with your heart lodged somewhere between your throat and his sleepy voice echoing in your chest. you shift slightly, enough to tuck the blanket higher over his back, and he stirs only to let out a soft sigh, like your care wraps around him as much as the warmth of the bed. “you’re too good,” he says, almost inaudible now, and your eyes sting at the tenderness in his tone—because you know he means it, every word, every breath. your hand slides down to his back, fingers drawing idle shapes along his spine, and the comfort of it is mutual, grounding, like neither of you want to move or break the spell of this moment. but something inside you aches, because as perfect as this feels, you know it’s not simple—it’s messy and fragile and dangerous, and the more you try to pretend it’s not, the harder it hits. your throat tightens as the weight of it presses into your chest, tears prickling behind your eyes, and you don’t even know who you’re crying for—him, them, or yourself. so you close your eyes and hold him tighter, trying to memorize the feeling of this moment, even if you don’t know how long it will last.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ dare i say jungwon might be my fav >.<

taglistᝰ.ᐟ @starry-eyed-bimbo @vixialuvs @justaquarium @dark-moon-light02 @deobitifull @minjeong28 @wonzzziezzzz @wonsohl @psychicyouthfox @honeyfever @strayy-kidz @bloomiize @tunafishyfishylike @jaehaki @ihearteatingxo @songbyeonkim @sol3chu @mo0neng3ne @strxwbloody @hii01mii @merwdusa @dorrissakurada @lycxee @frequentlykit @heeenha6484 @sjakewrld @stwrlightt @parkjjongswifey @haneulhee @fr34k4c1dr41n @cozyre @vwricky @nyxtwixx @nuggets4lifers @yunkiconico @mynameis-rosie1 @leeknowslefteyebrow @babygguk98 @noiiny @horijiro @nshmrarki @delulumel @brooklyninawhitemustang @baedreamverse @stvrrylove @killedbycharlize @sehyojae @mylettterstoyou @metanoianlove @shaysimpss @kiokantalope @sanriwoozzz @mniwna @l1nn13 @gongyoorit @miszes @ineedheewoninmylife @seonhwastaar @ivyleyun @ari3ll4 @ssanhwatto @negin7 @koizekomi @enhaz1 @kittympirty @slayhaechan @semi-wife @tobiosbbyghorl @hoonsdrnkdzd @shy9-29 @heeenha6484 @heeseungsbm @kristynaaah @smlbch @kirinaa08 @millis-diary @kawaiichu32 @wonislife17 @minniesverse @k1ttyjwon @luvksnn @wondash @wooalt @sweetsoobie @nyxiebabyyy @jakezzgirlz @b1tem4rks @hoonneyyzz @mimimovv @hanjiversee @ch4c0nnenh4 @sarashusbandissunghoonfyime @tnafzi @bbypink @en-hoon02 @skzenhalove @azzy02 @sanchaah @planetmarlowe @miniw0nz @daisy-doo1 @femaholicc @cherryangel-coke @hooniesfvngs @kimsvtaes @mniwna @i-am-not-dal @star-hoon @wafflelyweddedmallow @certifiedjaeyunist @devouredyou @neogotmysam @nuki-riki @heesang07 @littlofang @simj4k3 @makgeolli-jw @ksnooppy @luvksnn @starryemiko @isagistar @nickiminajleftasscheek @jeonkaijoon @doveblackboat @haestuffs @srhnyx @azzy02 @bubblemoonclouds @diana021811 @wonuziex @blubb0 @choicila @nyfwyeonjun @neo-weareone @jooniesbears-blog @byshens @arourababy @dolliewon @shine1entertainment

[chrissv4mp]

VIDEOS GIRLFRIEND!BILLIE WOULD SEND YOU .ᐟ

NEW MESSAGE! ⟶ bils: lookin 4 something???

the video starts quickly—billie holding her phone up above her head, resting comfortably in what looks to be the couch on her tour bus. she hums softly, a soothing melody that you wish you had the chance to hear again face-to-face. then the camera pans back down, her fingers fumbling with the device before successfully setting it onto the couch opposite of where she was perched.

it's only then do you realize what she's wearing—a purple hoodie that's quite similar to yours... and as you squint, trying to remember where you recognize it from. before the answer can click in your mind, billie speaks up.

"i know you're probably wondering where i got this," she grins, cheekily. "or maybe you're wondering why i have this?" she adds, smile breaking out wider. "and—okay, don't blame me—but i snuck it in my bag before tour..."

your favorite hoodie.

and, clearly, hers as well.

"but!" she exclaims, then whips her head to the side at the sound of one of the cabin bunks creaking. then, quieter, "but i wanted to know that you're always here—or, at least, a part of you."

you can see the pink tint of her cheeks flushing even in the dim lighting of the tour bus, and it only becomes more apparent as she pulls the hood further down—covering her face in embarrassment as she giggles quietly, the sound muffled behind the thick, cozy fabric of your hoodie. the one that you'd been losing your mind while trying to find over the past few days. guess it's a huge weight lifted off your chest knowing that the person you trust most has it.

the room goes quiet for a moment too long—and then a long yawn rips through billie's throat, resulting in the girl lifting her arms up and stretching dramatically, a habit you'd also picked up on a few months into the relationship. billie sits up, scooting to the edge of the cushions and snatching up her phone again. she pulls the device close to her face, anything below her nose unseen in the camera.

"okay, well," she exhales, sleepy. "that's my cue."

her eyes flick to the camera, pulling the phone away a bit to grin at you through the phone. "i love you, pretty girl. i'll call tomorrow... if the timezones aren't fucked up—but if they are, still expect a call. just... later."

she blows a kiss, a tired smile pulling at her lips. "g'night."

NEW MESSAGE! ⟶ bils: i'd wanna fuck me too !!

"damn," billie purrs, tilting her head to the side. the sunlight from the open curtains of her hotel room illuminate her face. her lips part, eyes flitting across the screen—checking herself out shamelessly. "not to be conceded but... i see why you want me all the time, baby," she teases, leaning back on the couch, maroon and plush.

her hair is in a low bun, loose strands falling on her neck—so effortlessly perfect it's almost like she pulled them out herself. the video is nearly silent for a few seconds, the low hum of the A/C in the background setting a soft, quiet mood, almost like she's at home. her shoulders are relaxed, brows not furrowed like you'd seen them the last time she jumped onto facetime with you.

billie whistles low as she sets her phone down on the table, probably propped against her water bottle. "holy shit, i might actually start drooling over myself right now," she smiles, turning her head to the side and humming upon seeing the sharp line of her jaw.

"woah," she muses, giggling as she turns back to face the camera. "okay, baby—i need to call you, like, now."

she grabs her phone, tugging it off the table. the video still plays for a moment, even while billie looks like she's deep into finding your contact. then, with a quiet—needy—huff from between billie's pouty lips, the video ends.

NEW MESSAGE! ⟶ bils: bts for europe pt2... ur lucky...

the first thing you notice is her camera—not her phone, but an actual camera. the thought of billie taking the time to export the video off the camera just for you already had your heart warming. what made your heart warmer was simply just seeing her face, inverted in the mirror yet still looking as beautiful as ever. the camera view shakes a little in the awkward position of her hand, moving a bit closer—showing the background of what seemed to be a closed shop.

"aaahh!" she whispers, mouth opening in a low roar. her nose scrunches as she takes a step back, focusing the camera on the clean mirror for a second longer before stepping away fully and showing you where she was.

there's multiple racks of her merchandise—a plethora of reds, blues, yellows, and whites, colors that she'd been fixated on even before the meetings for her tour plans began. you remember her always coming home with boxes of her first samples of hoodies and t-shirts. unbeknownst to you, she'd ordered one of each sample in your size—feigning surprise whenever you slid the piece of fabric on and found out that it fit you perfectly.

her voice breaks throught the quiet murmur employees in the background. "nobody passing by knows that i'm in here... well, except for you," she thinks out loud, voice trailing off. "wait, but you're not passing by, so—nevermind, still counts."

"this is going in the vlog, by the way," billie announces in a quiet whisper, like it's a secret. "and you're the first person to seee!! i'm so excited for this next part, baby, you don't even know."

her shoes pad on the concrete floors, the camera view getting closer and closer to a rack of multiple hoodies, the designs varying—fabric in red with a graphic of billie from her rolling stone photoshoot ranging from a darker black hoodie featuring a lighter graphic of her name and a photo taken on her latest tour stop, amsterdam.

"dude, this shit is so sick," she admires, flipping the camera to show her happy expression. "might have to get a few to take home to you—gosh, you'd look amazing in the red."

then, she comes closer, murmuring much quieter, "and, preferably, nothin' underneath..." quickly, the camera pulls away from her face.

"okay bye!"

NEW MESSAGE! ⟶ bils: BERLINNNNN

billie's hand is on her cheek, jaw open wide in faux surprise as she points at a poster of herself with her free hand—eyes wide as she frantically taps against the window like she's seeing something that's a once in a lifetime experience. someone—ava—giggles behind the camera, shaking the view for a moment to point at the poster as well, a surprised gasp of her own falling from between her lips.

they're standing outside a shop, the window showcasing a display of billie's latest perfume release—your turn. the gates were still closed due to the early hour, the sun still slowly rising above the mountains. ava zooms in on billie just as she sticks her tongue out—then, unexpectedly, she sprints off camera, nearly tripping over her jeans with her suddenly fast steps. ava trails not too far behind, giggling.

"billie, i'm coming go the show tonight!" someone screams in the distance, loud enough for the camera to pick it up.

she doesn't stop running, and neither does ava—her head just whips around as she stuffs a hand into her pocket, her smile clear in the way she screams, "love you!"

"i love you!" the fan screams back, and ava can't hold in the giggles crawling up her throat.

ava chases after billie until they tumble into the back of their car, breathing heavily as their backs finally hit the seats, lips parted to take the chance to breathe after the sudden interaction. her blue eyes meet the camera again, a dopey smile playing at the corners of her lips. she slumps in her seat, falling to the side and laying across her side of the car with a few quiet chuckles. ava joins in on the laughter, the little sounds escaping billie's throat contagious.

"that was... unexpected," ava comments through her fit of giggles, the words cut off a bit at the end due to the engine of the car rumbling to life.

billie nods. "ugh, i love them," she huffs, pushing herself up again and buckling herself in. the click of a seatbelt echoes in the camera speakers as ava does the same. "if we weren't in a rush i would've ran over and tackled them."

ava huffs a laugh.

"lightly—" billie clarifies. then, with a deep squint of her eyes, hums and whispers, "maybe not, actually. don't wanna catch an assault charge in the middle of tour..."

the blonde behind the camera hums. "they'd probably cherish the bruise, billie."

billie bursts out into laughter—then, the video cuts.

letters. will this get me out of the motivation drought.... fingers are tightly crossed rn bcus i have something big and exciting planned 🙂‍↕���🙂‍↕️

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @love4madii @livvydunneness @chxhir0 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @fleurfiles @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @ma1spa @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @eilishssiennaa @skinnyhmhas @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet @tezzzzzzzz @emi-inspace

[azzinator3000]

Locked Doors 

Word count (so far): 2K 

Content: Friends-to-lovers, secret relationship, intense sexual tension, UConn season 2023/2024

Warnings: Mature Content (Minors DNI)

CHAPTER 1 - SOFT SPOT

Paige wasn’t sure what scared her more — that Azzi stayed the night, or that Paige kind of wanted her to. No, actually — not kind of. She wanted it. She definitely wanted it. 

Which was… a problem.

Because this wasn’t supposed to be like this. They had their thing, you know? Their rhythm. Their rules. Well, not rules exactly, because neither of them ever really said anything out loud. 

But there were rules.

Azzi was right there, asleep in her bed. Paige could hear her breathing, could see the soft light hitting her brown skin, the little rise and fall of her shoulders under Paige’s old t-shirt. God, she hoped she was wearing underwear. Paige was honestly too scared to check. 

A part of her felt dirty for even thinking it, for looking at Azzi like this, for wanting something so uncomplicated to suddenly become so messy and demanding. But the dirtiness was mixed with a thrill, a possessive burn in her gut. Azzi, here, in her bed, wearing her shirt. It felt… right. Too right.

And it’s not like this was the first time. This was college. They did this. That’s just what it was. 

Paige didn’t even know if Azzi liked girls, she never asked. She never asked because — well, she didn’t want to hear an answer that would ruin this thing they did. 

Maybe Azzi just liked her, and that was easier to sit with. The idea that Azzi was only drawn to her, Paige Bueckers, not the concept of girls in general, was a selfish thought. But it was a comforting one, a private vanity she clung to.

Paige knew she liked girls, of course she did. She always knew. She’d been messing around with girls long before Azzi ever showed up on campus. 

But that wasn’t something she could say, not out loud. Not as Paige Bueckers. 

Paige Bueckers? She’s a shooter. She’s clutch. She’s marketable. She’s not gay. 

Well, she is, but not in a way that fits the story people already wrote for her, the one with the clean, straight lines and the wholesome, All-American appeal. It was an unspoken contract, signed in endorsements and public appearances, that her private life would remain just that: private, and preferably, utterly conventional.

It was weird, right? That she was bothered people just assumed she was straight, but she also never really corrected them. She accepted that this was how it had to be. 

Except… then there was Azzi. Azzi, with her soft voice, her big heart, her perfect family, her laugh. Azzi, who Paige would do literally anything for. Everyone knew that. It wasn’t even a secret. It was just Paige and Azzi. That’s how they worked.

 Paige would tape over the windows to block the sun, but after Azzi started, well, showing up more often, she stopped doing that. She let the light in, even though she hated it in the morning, because Azzi was scared of the dark. Paige could never let her be scared. 

And now here they were. Morning. Quiet. Paige sitting there, hugging her knees to her chest, trying not to lose her mind, realizing Azzi slept over. Azzi stayed. That wasn’t their thing. Their thing was the stolen moments, the frantic rush, the quick, desperate relief, and then the return to their separate lives. Azzi rarely spent the night. 

And the girls? The girls definitely saw them. Paige vaguely remembered the door creaking open last night, the shuffle of shoes, someone whispering, and Paige trying to laugh it off, like it was nothing, like, haha, we just fell asleep. But no one really said anything. 

A soft rustle from the bed. Azzi stirred, a soft groan escaping her lips as she burrowed deeper into the pillow, her dark curls splayed against the white cotton. Paige’s breath hitched. God, she was beautiful, even rumpled and half-asleep. 

The morning light, which Paige usually abhorred, seemed to halo Azzi, highlighting the caramel tones of her skin, the gentle curve of her neck. Paige felt a familiar possessiveness clench in her chest, a primal urge to keep this sight, this moment, all to herself. She wanted to lean down, press a kiss to Azzi’s forehead, feel that soft skin against her lips. But she didn’t. Not yet. The rules, unspoken as they were, still held a subtle power.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly against the sunlight. For a moment, she looked disoriented, then her gaze landed on Paige, sitting on the floor by the bed, and a slow, sleepy smile bloomed on her face, dimple flashing. That smile. That fucking smile unraveled Paige every single time.

“Morning,” Azzi mumbled, her voice thick with sleep, a little hoarse. She stretched, arching her back, and the t-shirt rode up, just enough to reveal a sliver of toned midriff. 

“Morning, Princess,” Paige responded, her voice coming out a little rougher than she intended. 

But then Azzi’s face changed. Like, she remembered. Like her whole body tensed up all at once. 

“Wait—” she sat up, eyes wide now. “Oh my God. I stayed over.” Paige’s stomach dropped. This was it. The moment the fragile bubble burst. “Azzi, it’s fine.” Paige tried to keep her voice even.

But Azzi was already spiraling, grabbing her phone like that was gonna solve something. “No, no, no, this is bad. They’re gonna think—like, if the girls saw me leave this morning, they’re gonna think there’s, like, something going on.” Her voice was a frantic whisper, her eyes wide with genuine alarm. 

She glanced at the door, then back at Paige, her caramel skin looking paler in the bright morning light.

And Paige just blinked at her, sitting there like—what? You think they don’t already know? You think they didn’t know when we disappeared last night, mid-Jena’s dance moves? You think they haven’t known for years, since we were barely teenagers and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you at USA camp? Since your first UConn party?

Paige’s throat went a little dry. She didn’t know why. Maybe because she’d just realized Azzi was scared. Like, really scared. Like, this wasn’t just pretending-it’s-nothing scared. This was don’t-even-let-them-think-it’s-something scared. 

or Azzi, this was still just a casual hookup, a fun, illicit thrill with a friend. Paige felt a hot surge of annoyance, mixed with a deeper, more painful sense of embarrassment. 

“It’s fine,” Paige said quickly, forcing the words out, because Azzi was pulling on her shoes like she was about to sprint out the door, her movements jerky with anxiety. “I told them you were drunk. That’s why you stayed.” Lie. A complete, unadulterated lie. She hadn't said a word to anyone. 

The girls had let them be, as they always did. But Azzi’s shoulders relaxed, just a little. The tension drained out of her, replaced by a visible wave of relief. And Paige wanted her to feel better. Even if it meant lying. 

Azzi gave her this soft little smile, still half-flustered, but grateful. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Thanks, P.” She zipped up her jacket, grabbed her small bag, and gave Paige one last, quick, almost apologetic glance before hurrying out the door.

Paige just nodded, watching her go. The door clicked shut, leaving a silence that felt heavier, colder, than before. Paige wanted to scream, to break something. She wanted to grab Azzi and shake her.

Paige sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, the spot where Azzi had been still warm, a ghost of her presence. She pulled herself up, her movements stiff, and headed out to the kitchen, a restless energy buzzing under her skin.

KK was there, leaning against the counter, scrolling through her phone, eating dry cereal out of the box because, you know, of course she was. Aubrey was perched on a stool nearby, humming along to something in her headphones, probably already awake for hours, having finished her morning lifts. Ice was nowhere in sight, likely still passed out.

“Well, well, well,” KK grinned without looking up, a spoon clattering against the cardboard box. “Look who finally came out of her love nest.” Ice took off one headphone, a knowing smirk on her face. “Took you long enough, P. We were starting to think Azzi had you chained to the bed.”

“Don’t start,” Paige muttered, pulling open the fridge aggressively, the harsh fluorescent light doing nothing to improve her mood. She wasn’t even hungry. She just needed to do something, anything, to dissipate this frustrated energy. 

The thought of Azzi’s panic, the casualness of her exit, grated on her nerves.

“Okay, but like—” KK’s grin only widened, “—are you gonna tell us when the wedding is or should I just pencil in spring? We need a head count for the national championship party, might as well combine.” “Shut up.” Paige’s voice was sharper than she meant, laced with a bitterness she usually reserved for bad calls on the court.

She slammed the fridge shut, rattling the bottles inside.

KK raised an eyebrow, finally looking at her, her expression losing some of its playful edge. “Whoa. Okay. Relax. We’re just messing around.”

“Yeah, well, maybe don’t.” Paige’s voice was, icy. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“We literally do,” Aubrey interjected, leaning forward on the stool. “We heard you two stumble in last night. And we saw Azzi leave just now, looking like she’d run a marathon”

 “You don’t.” Paige’s jaw was tight. She knew they knew. She’d always known they knew. But Azzi didn't. And that was the problem. 

That was Azzi's problem, and now it was Paige's.

KK tilted her head, studying her, a rare seriousness in her eyes. “Okay. You’re mad. Like, actually mad.” She held up her hands, like, I’m out of this. 

“Whatever’s going on, it’s between you and Azzi. But don’t get all cold with us when we didn’t do anything. We’re literally just trying to support  whatever the hell that is.” 

Paige clenched her jaw. She knew that. She knew KK wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Paige wanted something that wasn’t hers to want.

This was supposed to be her senior year, her championship run, and instead, her heart was getting twisted into knots over a girl who saw them as nothing but a 'night rush.' It was messy. It was a distraction she couldn't afford.

Just then, the door to the room opened again, and Azzi came out, wearing her jacket, still looking a little shaken but smiling now, all soft and sweet again, like the panic from earlier never happened.

 She’d clearly just come back from her own room probably to grab something or just to make a point of leaving Paige's room properly.

“Hey, guys,” she said to KK and Ice, her voice light, innocent. Then her eyes found Paige’s. She brushed past Paige, lightly bumping her shoulder, a casual, friendly gesture that felt like a slap in the face. 

“You okay, P? You look… intense”

Paige looked at her, and yeah, her heart softened immediately, which was annoying. 

Like, seriously? Seriously? You’re just gonna melt like that? All that anger, all that frustration, it just… evaporated the moment Azzi’s eyes met hers. 

Paige Bueckers you’re pathetic

“Yeah,” Paige muttered, forcing the word past her tight throat. “I’m fine.” The lie tasted bitter. 

Azzi smiled at her, real and bright, and Paige hated that it made her feel better.

KK watched the whole thing, chewing slowly on her cereal, her gaze shifting between Paige’s softened expression and Azzi’s guileless smile. Aubrey, too, had put her headphone back on, but she was definitely watching, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“Huh,” KK said finally, once Azzi had turned to chat with Ice about their morning practice schedule. 

“So, you’re all sharp with us, but with her, you’re soft. Interesting.” 

Paige shot her a look, a venomous glare that usually made KK back off. “KK.” 

“Just saying.” KK shrugged, unbothered, her eyes twinkling. “Guess we know what your weakness is, Bueckers.”

But Paige couldn’t even stay mad because it was true. She was soft with Azzi. That’s how it worked. 

Paige could act all tough with the rest of the world, she could be the fierce competitor, the unyielding superstar. Azzi? Azzi was the soft spot. Always was.

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

Newlywed Solomon HCs

Solomon x GN! reader

Summary: Things Solomon does now that he's officially married to you.

AN: Hi all! I'm trying to get myself out of a writing funk (my event requesters, I'm so sorry, I'm trying ☹️). Since the new app won't have the side characters until later, I decided to just make some headcanons for Solomon so my brain could un-mushify itself. Nightbringer was but a mere taste of what married life with Solomon could be like and I need more, lol.

Warnings: Reader refers to Solomon as "my love," lengthy (I got carried away), other than that, it's all fluff!

Newlywed Solomon who wakes you up in the morning with soft whispers of love in your ear. “I’m so lucky to wake up next to you. You have no idea how much I love you.” He holds you close, legs tangled, happily sharing his warmth with you as he presses soft kisses around your face, occasionally nuzzling his nose against your neck.

Newlywed Solomon who brings you coffee in bed. He knows how you like it and makes sure every measurement of milk, sugar, or creamer is perfect. It’s bitter… almost sour, despite the effort he puts in, but you’ve learned to hold your grimace as he sips his own beside you peacefully, his off hand thumbing over your knuckles.

Newlywed Solomon who sends little texts throughout the day if you’re apart. He wants to know if you’re thinking about him like he is of you. Expect anything from a meme he found, a gif of a cat, an emoji, or even a photo of himself showing what he’s up to. If you send a photo of yourself back, be prepared to have him spam you with heart reactions and words of love. He’s happy to know you’re safe and having a good day.

Newlywed Solomon who tries to keep up with housecleaning. He’s not particularly good at it, but he’s learning as he goes. You’ll find the bed sheets freshly washed and on the bed, though the fitted sheet is clinging to the corners of the mattress by a prayer. Sometimes one of his shirts ends up folded and tucked away amongst yours (you think this is on purpose so you’d see it and wear it). A lot of it he does with magic, but your kisses of encouragement make him want to do better each time without the added help.

Newlywed Solomon who mentions extending the family… in the form of cats. Easily agreeing, you both end up walking through a shelter with the hopes of rescuing a kitty in need. He stops in front of a cage with a pair of siblings inside, and after reading about how they’ve spent their lives in the shelter, he turns to you with misty eyes and a hopeful smile. That night, you bring home two kitties that are already spoiled by Solomon in the form of a large cat tower, a fluffy bed, and a bag full of toys, treats, and pretty collars.

Newlywed Solomon who loves matching with you. Matching robes hung side by side on the wall, matching mugs sitting patiently in the cabinet to be used, even matching toothbrushes that sit on either side of the bathroom sink. He’s even imbued your wedding rings with magic to connect your hearts so that every time you touch the banding, a soft pulse of the other’s heartbeat can be felt.

Newlywed Solomon who’s only allowed to watch as you prepare meals. He’ll quickly set the table before rushing over to hold you from behind. It’s the only way to keep himself from assisting, and besides, any moment holding you is a good moment. His help in the kitchen is in the form of grocery shopping, though he tends to get a little sidetracked from the list you wrote and you end up with a fully stocked inventory and random ingredients you have no idea what to do with.

Newlywed Solomon who’s devoted to your care when you’re under the weather. If you’re physically sick, he’s constantly checking your temperature, feeding you soup (that you requested he order), as well as offering some spells to cure/comfort whatever ails you. If you’re struggling mentally, he’s doing whatever he can to support you. Whether you need to be held as you cry into his shoulder or ask for a cup of tea and some space as you sort yourself out before confiding in him, consider it done. Your well-being is the most important thing to him.

Newlywed Solomon who loves spending quality time with you. Your legs rest on his lap as you sit opposite of him on the couch, watching something on TV, while he reads a book and strokes your calf mindlessly. He’s easily distracted, studying how you bite the inside of your cheek when you’re invested, the steady rise and fall of your chest, your little reactions to a sudden twist in the show. He loves how expressive you are in these calmer moments. You’re way more interesting than a thousand words on a page.

Newlywed Solomon who watches in awe as you get ready for the day. Laying against the headboard, his eyes trail along your scantly clad body while you sift through outfits. There is no lust in his eyes, just admiration for the person you are. He loves everything about you and he loves that you trust him to see you like this. He’s vocal when you ask for his opinion, but never cruel or hurtful as there’s never anything negative to say. To him, you look wonderful in any style and he hopes you’re able to see yourself the way he sees you.

Newlywed Solomon who lets himself get dragged off to bed when he stays up too late. Even when his eyes sting and neck aches, he finds it difficult to pull away from his work and finish it the next day. So, when the bed feels too big and cold, and you come looking for him, he’s grateful. Cuddled close in the bed after you generously cover him up more than yourself, fingers card through his hair, coaxing him to sleep easily. Through a crack in his droopy lids, the last thing he sees is you, smiling softly as you whisper words of love to him. “Get some sleep, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up, just like always.”

[sereia4skz]

a house we build | chapter 2: gene pool entanglement

pairing: established!Minsung x fem!reader

< previous chapter | next chapter >

⋆｡°✩

word count: 1.4k

warnings: MDNI, smut, creampies, unprotected sex (duh)

You move in on a Thursday.

You don’t bring much with you. It feels more like a retreat than anything else, quiet, sprawling, strangely peaceful for a home owned by two world-famous idols. The property is surrounded by trees and tall gates, but the inside is warm. Wooden floors, wide windows, the smell of something sweet simmering in the kitchen. 

The guest room isn’t a guest room at all. It’s yours now, with a full closet, a brand-new mattress, blackout curtains. There’s a card on the nightstand written in Jisung’s handwriting. Welcome home (for now, unless you want to stay forever lol).

Jisung carries your suitcase in and promptly trips over the threshold. "Sorry," he mutters, face flushed. "Bad omen, right? Should I try again?"

Minho rolls his eyes and plucks the bag from his hand. "You’re going to scare her off."

You smile, small and genuine. "No, it’s okay. It feels… nice. Just strange."

"Strange is fair," Jisung says. "Weird and nice can coexist. That’s, like, our entire marriage."

Minho snorts. "Speak for yourself. I’m extremely normal."

"That's not what you said in 2 kids room" you laugh. It feels too easy, dangerously easy.

Jisung's the one who shows you around the house, too. He talks with his hands, bumbling through stories about the different rooms, the backyard garden, the espresso machine Minho doesn’t let him touch unsupervised.

Minho walks behind you both, quiet and sharp-eyed, the way he always is. He doesn’t speak unless he has to. But when you reach for the banister going upstairs, he’s the one who steadies you with a hand on your lower back.

The night moves slow after that.

There’s takeout and tea. A movie no one watches. Your things sit unpacked. It’s strange, like everything else: not romantic, but intimate. Like a sleepover you shouldn’t be at. Like a marriage you were dropped into halfway through.

It’s not discussed again, not explicitly, the arrangement, the act.

It just… happens.

⋆｡°✩

The night is strange. No one says it, but it hovers thick in the silence. This is the part that’s supposed to be clean, quick. Just biology. But there’s no doctor. No equipment. Just you and them. And nerves, humming sharp and high under your skin.

They give you time to shower. You come out in a robe someone left folded at the end of the bed, soft, fresh. Your hands twist in the fabric, and Jisung stares at the floor like it might swallow him whole.

“This is so weird,” he mutters.

Minho’s mouth twitches. “Weirder things have made families.”

“I guess.” Jisung looks up at you. “But also… kind of perfect?”

You nod. Something catches in your throat. There’s no plan. You end up in Minho’s room, bigger bed, darker curtains. The air smells like cedar and sage. No one moves at first. 

Jisung kisses you first. His lips are warm, a little dry, but sweet. Gentle. Shaky. You feel his nervousness in the way he keeps breaking away, like he’s trying to check your face for fear, for hesitation. His hands come up to cradle your face, then immediately drop like he doesn’t trust himself.

Minho doesn’t touch you until you’re already in bed, but when he does, it’s decisive. One hand curls around your waist from behind, pulling you closer to where he’s kneeling. He presses his nose to your hair, breath warm against your neck.

“You’re sure?” he murmurs.

You whisper yes.

Minho is focused. Deliberate. Everything he does feels intentional, like he’s not just trying to get you pregnant but trying to make you feel good, trying to remember every part of it. He kisses your throat, your shoulder, your breast, then leans back to look at you fully bare.

"You’re doing something beautiful," he says, fingertips ghosting over your stomach. "Let us make it feel that way."

Jisung exhales like he’s been holding it in all day.

He’s more nervous than Minho. His hands shake when he pushes your legs open. But he never stops talking, praise tumbling out of him like it’s the only thing grounding him.

“So fucking pretty,” he whispers, sinking to his knees. “You smell so good. You’re gonna take us so well, aren’t you?”

You whimper when his tongue brushes you, and he groans against your folds like it’s too much for him. He eats you out with something close to worship, slow, messy licks, his nose nudging your clit just right. His hands stay on your thighs, trembling, then stroking, then gripping.

Minho watches from behind you, running his fingers down your spine like he’s memorizing the shape. You can feel his erection pressed against your hip, hard through his sweats, but he doesn’t move yet. He just whispers, "Relax, Jagi. You’re safe here."

It makes you tremble.

Jisung pulls back, chin wet, lips swollen, he smiles, bashful, but cocky. “She’s ready,” he tells Minho. “I got her nice and soft for you.”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “That’s not how anatomy works.”

“Shut up, I’m being romantic.”

You giggle through your haze of arousal.

Minho presses a kiss to your shoulder, then reaches down to guide himself to your entrance. He goes slow, achingly, carefully slow, but even so, you feel the stretch, the unfamiliar fullness. His hips press flush to yours, and he just… stays there for a moment, trembling with restraint.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re-” He stops himself, jaw flexing. “First time I’ve ever…”

You turn your head. “With a woman?”

He nods, kissing the shell of your ear.

“But I’ve fucked Ji before,” he says softly, pulling out halfway before sliding back in.

“Hey,” Jisung huffs from where he’s propped on an elbow beside you. “You don’t have to tell all our secrets.”

“You’re loud when you come,” Minho murmurs, deadpan.

Jisung flushes pink and grins anyway. “You like it.”

You’re moaning through the pressure now, the fullness of Minho rocking into you. He moves deep and slow, gripping your hips like he’s holding on for dear life. His cock drags inside you thick and careful, each thrust brushing that soft, needy spot that makes your toes curl.

Jisung kisses you again. His hand slips between your legs, fingers circling your clit. “We’ve got you,” he breathes. “We’re doing it right, right?”

You nod, dizzy.

They’re not perfect, they’re clumsy, awkward, a little too tender, but it’s overwhelming in the best way. Like... Like a beginning.

Minho loses rhythm first. You feel it in the way his hips falter, the way he groans against your neck and presses his forehead to your shoulder.

“I’m close,” he mutters. “I’m gonna- fuck!”

“Do it,” you whisper. “Come on. Come inside.”

He moans, one deep, broken sound, and thrusts in hard one last time. He stills deep in your cunt and spills with a shudder, thick and hot and pulsing.

You clench around him without meaning to.

Jisung groans at the sight. “My turn?”

Minho pulls out, slowly, and you feel his spend drip out before Jisung’s already moving between your legs.

“Shit,” he breathes. “That’s so hot.”

He doesn’t tease, he can’t. He’s already leaking when he pushes in, a wet squelch of cum and needs making him hiss through his teeth, you whine at the overstimulation. He fucks you faster than Minho, less patient, all desperation and want.

You pull him in by the neck and kiss him hard. He whines into your mouth. “Gonna knock you up,” he babbles. “Gonna be so fucking full of us.”

You tighten around him, and he shudders, breath hitching.

“Fuck- fuck! I’m coming, baby, I’m-”

He jerks forward and spills deep inside you, twitching and gasping as he fills you to the brim. His hips keep moving, little aftershocks, and his arms curl around you so tight it hurts.

You lie in silence.

Your thighs are sticky. The air smells like sweat and sex and something bigger.

Minho kisses your hair. Jisung’s fingers trace lazy circles on your belly.

You fall asleep like that, tangled, aching, full. In the morning, you don’t talk about what it meant.

Three weeks later, you throw up into the sink and cry at a cat video.

You call the clinic and schedule the test.

And one baby, healthy, growing, none of you ask who the father is.

Because it doesn’t matter.

They both look at you like it’s theirs. Like you’re theirs.

Jisung hugs you too tightly when the doctor confirms it. Minho touches your stomach like it already means something. And even though the process is barely beginning, you already feel it in your chest.This isn’t just a job.

series taglist: @rougegenshin @imagine-all-the-imagines @Imma-much-happier-person @Jisungs-iced-americano @Seungminthesnail @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @straykid2004 @geni-627 @Numberonedefendorpenguin @codex-12 @skzbiasot8 @Skzlover143 @jeonginsbaee @rekussk @bahngarang @mareuxkala @wwwtxao @katchowbbie @Alondra601 @ateez-atiny380 @nanaluizam @littledeadleaves @iluvluvfictionalmen @Whitejuliana1204 @tsukiloveskitties @Chasinghxran @mocharacha @channiesbighugs @kpop-trash-03 @stvrryl0ve @lillymochilover @aemondsb1tch @kwanniehae @Kjinwoon

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824 @enhacolor @skzz0213 @hannahlue @purplelady85 @velvetmoonlght @inishij @bangchanspineapple @straykids4lifeee @peskybirdysya @gnabsss

[craniumcrunch]

i’ve thought about this a lot recently — more specifically asking myself the question of, had any of the others reached out to misty, would she have accepted?

look at her relationship with walter. it started out tentative, with misty initially shying away from his advances in favour of seeking out nat. then in the compound nat forsakes her (in a sense) for lottie, and in their brief encounter shauna seeks to alienate her from the rest of the group. these are the seeds sown for the deprivation tank hallucination, wherein which her ‘perfect partner’ is one who accepts her exactly as she is. and i mean, walter can technically never fit the mould of perfect partner because he’s a MAN, but other than that he *should* check her boxes. and at a distance, he does! it’s not like misty only ever feels derision regarding him. there is a compulsion to be close to him because he is possibly the only person on the planet who cares (in his own weird way). vulnerability. a perceived, false connection, vastly different to all the others she’s formed — in which misty plays the role of the *pursued*, rather than the *pursuer* and it makes her so, so uncomfortable.

so that’s kind of what i want to talk about here. misty being the object as opposed to the subject. misty being on the receiving end of affection rather than its giver. one of the reasons her relationships just *can’t* work out is because misty invests 100% of her energy into the person she’s focused on and expects them to give, like, 7% back. and i think she’s afraid of doing things differently. i think that, secretly, she’s relieved when none of the girls call her up.

this rejection of care isn’t something we see her do with walter alone, bc then it could just be chalked up to *that*. no, when nat’s on the phone with her, back in s1, misty interrupts her before she can apologise. equally, she glosses over nat’s apology at the door. because these interactions are genuine, and misty spurns affection unless it’s something manipulated/controlled. that isn’t to say she doesn’t desire being cared for — it’s to say it’s a shallow desire, it’s her chasing an idea, like she does with romance/men.

also to do with how she subconsciously hates herself and actively pushes away anybody who emulates any one of her behaviours. case in point, walter, and you could even argue shauna — what with her stalking and their similar responses to lottie’s death and such. + shauna giving her that brief monologue at the end going like ‘you’re just like me’ and misty’s face going all blank. yeah, she’s figured out they’re a lot more similar than either of them originally thought a long time ago.

i have completely forgotten about how misty canonically spent 6 WEEKS in bed after nats death and literally none of the girls called or went to check on her #KILLINGMYSELF

[sunshinedaisywrites777]

Post-Mission Intimacy (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

A/N- Hello everyone! I'm deeply sorry for being late. Vacation got the best of me and I was (still am) slacking so hard right now but you're all waiting for a smut so here you go! I kinda rushed it to be honest and I know it's not going to be the best smut you'll ever read BUT it's my first time writing smut soo yayy! I hope you like it and don't forget to leave comments and give me feedbacks 🙂💜

Warnings- Smut! MDNI! +18, tigh riding, no foreplay?, aftercare, feels of aftershock, sex without lube, softdom!leon, praise kink.

The clock read 12:43 AM. You were curled up on the couch, lights low, the faint hum of the TV playing a rerun of some show neither of you watched. A cup of chamomile tea sat cold beside you. You hadn’t touched it in an hour. Not since the last time you checked your phone for any message, any update. Still nothing.

Then the door finally opened.

You were on your feet before you could think. Leon stepped inside, shoulders heavy under his black jacket, hair sticking to his forehead, the weight of a mission lingering on every inch of his body. His blue eyes found you instantly. And softened.

He didn’t speak right away. He just stood there, breathing in the sight of you — small in his oversized flannel, barefoot, eyes red from waiting. You closed the distance first, hands curling around the back of his neck.

“You’re home,” you whispered.

“I’m home,” he murmured back, voice rough and low.

He kissed your hair, your temple, your cheek, before you finally pulled back and wrinkled your nose. “Leon… you smell.”

That made him huff a tired laugh. “That bad, huh?”

“Go shower,” you said, nudging him toward the bathroom. “I’ll wait.”

He didn’t take long, but every second felt stretched thin. The sound of running water was oddly comforting. When he returned, steam trailed behind him, his chest damp and pink from the heat. His hair was messy, curling slightly at the ends, his body wrapped in nothing but a towel low on his hips.

He looked like a dream — exhausted, but clean, real, yours.

“Still waiting for me?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

You nodded, eyes lingering on the droplets trailing down his chest. “Always.”

Leon came to you slowly. The towel slipped to the floor before he even reached you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, skin-on-skin, his body warm and damp against yours.

You reached for the buttons on your flannel, but Leon stopped you. “Let me.”

He undid each one with deliberate slowness, exposing more of your bare skin with every pass. No bra, no underwear. You hadn’t been wearing anything beneath it. His eyes darkened.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You were just sitting there like this?”

You smiled and nodded.

He growled low and kissed you hard, backing you toward the couch, hands never leaving your skin. You dropped back into the cushions, and he followed you down, slotting his hips between your thighs.

“Need you,” he said, voice rough. “Been thinking about this since I left.”

You guided him in, no resistance, just slick warmth and the sigh of relief that left both of your lips as he filled you.

Leon moved slow, deep, deliberate. He wasn’t trying to fuck the pain away. He was savoring you, grounding himself in every kiss, every touch, every breathless moan you made. You clung to him, legs wrapped around his waist, nails in his back.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Take me. Let me feel you.”

Your orgasm built slowly, coiling in your stomach, heat pulsing behind your eyes. He whispered to you the whole time, telling you how beautiful you were, how perfect, how tight you felt, how much he missed you.

When you finally came, it was sharp and silent, your body seizing around him, head thrown back, lips parted. Leon held on as you broke, kissing your shoulder, your throat, your jaw. He followed you moments later with a deep groan, burying himself inside you.

You laid together tangled on the couch, your body still twitching from the aftershocks. One leg was draped over his, and Leon felt the slight pulse of your hips shifting.

“Still shaking,” he murmured, brushing sweat-damp hair from your face. “You need to ride it out, huh?”

You nodded, barely able to speak. He guided you, gently shifting your hips until you were straddling one of his thighs, bare skin against bare skin.

“Use me,” he whispered. “Come on, baby. Just let it out.”

You moved slowly, grinding against the solid muscle of his thigh, slick and sensitive, trembling as the last waves passed through you. Leon held you steady, kissing your cheek, his hand splayed on your lower back.

“That’s it… Good girl.”

When it was over, you collapsed onto his chest, breath ragged. He held you close, wrapping both arms around you, rubbing small circles into your back.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he whispered.

You believed him.

And in that moment, you didn’t need anything else.

[cherryappleblizz]

The Hank(s) [Parent HC’s]

SPOILERS FOR AFTER REALIZATION ENDING

A/n: Ever since Hank 5 said his dream is to be a dad, the breeding kink side of me awaken like nothing ever before. I can’t stop thinking about how cute the boys would be as parents

Side warning: I don’t have the game, so my limited knowledge is entirely based off YouTube playthroughs of the Hanks and some clips I seen on Tik Tok. Sorry if some parts are off or wrong!!!

(Fluff/suggestive but not really, Female reader)

They use your pregnancy as motivation to pursue their dreams harder, not only for themselves but to also help support you financially

They follow you EVERYWHEREEEEE

You can barely get up from bed without them asking a million questions of what’s wrong or what you need

Whatever you need, they’re at your beak and call. Feeling sore? They’re rubbing you up. Have weird cravings at 5 a.m.? They’re racing to the kitchen dropping everything on their way back to you

When it’s time to deliver they are all over the place:

Hank 1 and 3 are holding your hand

Hank 5 wiping away your sweat and tears trying his best to comfort you, telling you it’ll all be over soon

Hank 4 is pacing back and forth saying he can’t look but keep looking anyways

Hank 2 passed out on the floor

You honestly believe the Hanks are crying more than the baby when it’s in your arms

The baby is an identical copy of Hank 5, from the hair to the moles. Looks absolutely nothing like you.

9 months in your womb, making you suffer… THE’RE PERFECT!!!

When y/n is trying to breastfeed, Hank 3 is trying to take a peak/making suggestive comments like “When they’re done, can I have a taste?” And gets slap against the head from the other hanks

They set a rotating schedule based on days of the week for changing diapers and who wakes up to check on the baby at night

They all have their own nicknames for mini Hank. Something cheesy like meatball, dumpling, etc

When you have to leave for the real world, the baby starts crying like crazy missing you terribly. So when you get home, you often walk in on the guys cosplaying as you.

The daddy-O shirt Hank 5 is wearing was used to surprise the Hanks with your pregnancy

Hank 5 never took it off since then

A/n: Aaaaa this is my first time ever writing anything so sorry for any mistakes! PLEASE PLEASE let me know of your headcanons! I’m dying for more Hank content so please share!

[pieandflannel]

₊˚⊹𐙚 our naive little angel

pairing: sam, dean, castiel x fem!reader

summary: castiel accidentally finds your sex toy, confused, he goes to talk about it with sam and dean

cw: 18+ comical fluff.ᐟ heavy mentions of sex toy [dildo].ᐟ castiel is innocent.ᐟ dean teases you.ᐟ use of y/n.ᐟ established relationship [friends].ᐟ mention of lgbt & trans <3

word count: 1107

julia yaps: don’t let me daydream or else this stuff comes to life

────────── 🪽 ──────────

the bunker was filled with echoes of castiel’s footsteps as he walked down the hallway, as he got closer to the kitchen he could hear the faint sound of kitchen equipment being moved around.

“sam? dean?” castiel popped his head into the kitchen, hoping to find sam and dean. “hey man what up?” sam asked as he looked up to notice the puzzled expression on castiel’s face, a worried frown that was hard to miss. sam was sitting at the table with coffee and dean was making the ‘breakfast of champions’ as he called it. in other words – pancakes, eggs and bacon.

“i uh..” cas started, looking down the hallway to check if you weren’t anywhere near, then proceeded to walk closer to the two boys. sam and dean look at each other in confusion, their friend looks like he was away to spill a government secret or something. “well spit it out cas” dean grunted impatiently.

castiel sat down across from sam, inching closer towards both the boys. “is y/n a…what the lgbt community would call, a transgender?” he whispered loudly. sam’s face shown pure confusion whereas dean couldn’t help but burst out into laugher.

“what? what’s so funny?” cas asked confused as to what dean found so amusing, his frown making his eyebrows almost touch.

“cas where did you even get that idea from?” sam questioned, trying to get to the bottom of this ridiculous idea.

“well…” cas cleared his throat before he began explaining. “i went to wash my hands in the bathroom since my hands were covered in basilisk blood that we need for the spell, also did you know that in harry po-“

“yes chamber of secrets had a basilisk, to the point cas” dean interrupted, trying to get cas back on the track.

“right, so i walk into the bathroom and on the counter beside the sink… was a.. prosthetic male part” cas finally explained, his whole angel self confused. on the other hand sam and dean look at each other, checking if they heard correctly.

“it wasn’t real, i checked” castiel added as if to protect you from looking like a psycho that owns a cut off dick or something.

dean raised a brow at him, “a prosthetic male part?” cas looked into dean’s eyes with slight panic and uncertainty. despite him being on earth for centuries, socialising with human beings and all that, cas clearly still had a lot of innocence to him after all this time.

dean cleared his throat, trying not to smirk. “so on the bathroom counter there is a-“

“a prosthetic penis, yes” castiel confirmed, sam tried to hide the grin that grew on his face. both the boys looking at each other like kids that just heard the ultimate fart joke.

“is it big?” dean’s tone amused. sam nudged his side. “what? m’just curious” dean shrugged with a full blown smirk. cas squinted his eyes suspiciously but still answered, “it was way over the average size…statistically speaking”

sam spat out his coffee that he tried taking a sip off. dean just nodded with a cheeky grin, now he’s got a thing to tease you about. “oh this is perfect” he murmured to himself, already coming up with an evil plan as he rubbed his hands together.

“so.. is she transgender?” castiel asked with a head tilt like a questioning dog. as sam stopped coughing he cleared his throat and tried to explain to him the situation. “no cas, um..” sam was surprisingly shy about having to explain to castiel that it’s simply your dildo that he saw.

“y/n is a woman and what you saw was her sex toy” dean announced with no hesitation unlike sam, he looked over at sam and cas from the kitchen island as he was plating the cooked food on the ceramic plates. “see, wasn’t that hard to explain now, was it?”

sam gave dean the ‘have a little decency’ glare. “what? it had to be explained to our naive little angel over here” dean shrugged, unfazed. making sam sigh, although he did find the situation pretty amusing.

“ah yes, sex toys. i’ve heard of them before, it’s for pleasuring oneself or your partner” cas nodded, the confusion disappearing and being replaced with a calm smile. dean couldn’t help but snicker.

sam held the bridge of his nose, trying to hold in a chuckle himself. “god, dean you’re such a kid”

“oh come on you find it funny too” dean pointed at sam. then suddenly you entered the kitchen.

“morning guys” you spoke cheerfully, after a little solo session you slept like a baby, so you felt super refreshed. you walked to the fridge to take out milk for your coffee. there was dead silence for a long second, tension could be felt in the kitchen.

“someone’s in a good mood” dean spoke but only sam knew the meaning behind the words. you looked at dean, noticing he was smirking and sam was avoiding your eye contact. you couldn’t help but looked confused at them three.

“cas thinks you might have left something of yours in the bathroom, from last night” dean just couldn’t help himself, teasing you just came too easy. his arms crossed against his chest as he stood facing you with the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.

you look from dean to castiel, the wheels in your brain slowly starting to turn as you started to remember that you don’t recall taking your dildo back into the room with you after washing it. your eyes widen slightly, your cheeks turning pink and your heart started beating twice as fast.

dean noticed the subtle shift in your demeanour, the inner panic overflowing your body. but he didn’t stop there, oh no he had more to say, “did you have a nice workout with your seven inches?” he smirked.

“it’s eight inches actually” you clapped back, tilting your head sassily as you tried to regain your dignity. “but hey i get it, it’s hard to recognise anything bigger than 4 inches, right dean?” you teased him back, sam couldn’t hold in his laughter as you implied dean having a small one. cas only squinted his eyes, trying to understand the conversation between you two.

“ouch, someone got burned” sam chuckled, you brushed your hair sassily at his words.

“now if you guys don’t mind, imma go hide the.. yeah, and go hang myself in the war room” you jokingly said before casually walking out the kitchen.

you may have shut dean up but it was only temporary, you knew this wasn’t the end of his teasing.

thank you so much for reading! feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated <3

tags: @jensino @emeraldcrs @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @littlelamy @littlejoels @deanswifeyy @slut4jackles @h8aaz @bruisedfig @angelicjackles @losers-clvb @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @rositaslabyrinth @deanspookiebear @tinas111 @bejeweledinterludes @miss-marmalade @pinksatinpanties @multiversefanfics @cupidzbunny @heartrendercastiel @sunnyteume @mrsanakinwinchesterpoldark @krabog @that-stanford-girlie @pwin098 @tendertulip @honeyyxxbee @rerejunebug @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

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[psycholuvrgirl]

the 6 date disasters: the chaperone | series masterlist

featuring... megumi!

summary: a romantic night in takes a turn when your teacher shows up.

warnings: heated make out scene, no actual smut though

a/n: i think i'm going to change my dividers...

megumi planned this whole thing out. but megumi doesn’t plan dates, he stumbles into them. he just asks to hang out and ends up making the whole ordeal romantic without trying to.

but not tonight. tonight is intentional.

his dorm is clean. and not normal fushiguro clean, it’s too clean. the room is clear of anything that could make it look lived in, bed made, not a speck of dust or dirt in the room. soft music plays from the speaker you bought him ages ago, some instrumental playlist that he spent hours on. the lights are low, a few warm candles flickering on the shelves. he looks nervous.

and very, very pretty.

his jaw is tense, his eyes flickering to you and away again. he wears a soft black shirt that you’ve never seen before, but it looks perfect on him. when you show up and smile a real smile, he flushes so fast that you think he might combust. 

you know exactly what tonight is. or at least what tonight is supposed to be, and you want it just as badly.

so you don’t make him say it out loud. you let things unfold the way he clearly wants them to, slow and soft. like the moment is sacred, because it is.

at first, you sit close to one another, legs brushing. you talk and sip on tea that you can barely taste, but the conversation is quickly replaced with long, weighty looks and quiet stillness.

when he finally leans in, you meet him halfway.

the kiss starts sweet, gentle, and familiar. but then your hands slide up his chest and he makes a sound in the back of his throat. his fingers curl tightly around your waist, and just like that the entire mood changes.

his tongue slips into your mouth as his hand finds your thigh. he tugs you onto his lap and it all happens so fast. your bodies move like a perfectly choreographed dance, tension finally snapping loose. you’re straddling him, hands in his hair, mouth hot against his.

“are you sure?” you murmur, just in case.

megumi nods. “yeah. i’ve been— fuck, i’ve been thinking about this all week.”

that does something to you, making your eyes widen and your stomach do a flip.

he tilts his head, kissing down your neck. his grip on your hips tightens and you shift against him, pulling a groan from his lips. his hands slide up your shirt and your heart pounds. he’s hard under you, you can feel it.

and then… knock knock.

you both go still, looking at the door.

“don’t,” he whispers. “don’t answer it.”

“i wasn’t gonna—”

then the door flies open.

gojo’s voice rings out, loud and casual as always. “oh, megumi,” he says in a sing-song voice, dragging out the end of the name. “i brought those snacks you like. also, we need to talk about your training schedule because—” he pauses when he looks up from the grocery bag, blinking. “oh.” he takes in every detail. you in megumi’s lap, your shirt pushed up with megumi’s hands still under it. gojo beams. “wow. about time, huh?”

you scramble off of him, trying to fix your clothes.

“get out!” megumi shouts.

gojo flops down onto his bed, megumi’s bed, with absolutely no remorse. “relax. i’m just here to check in, you weren’t answering your texts.”

“because i was busy,” megumi growls out.

gojo’s already unwrapping a candy bar. “clearly.”

“how did you even get in? i locked the door.”

“i have a key,” gojo says simply.

you sit on the edge of the bed, stunned to silence by the entire situation. you glance at megumi, who looks one inconvenience away from a felony.

he storms over and grabs gojo’s arm. “get. out.”

gojo remains limp on the covers. “you’re so tense, fushiguro. it’s unhealthy. you need to talk more about your feelings instead of getting so physical. well, maybe getting physical is just what you need—”

megumi drags gojo halfway off the bed. “i swear to god—”

gojo swings his legs off the mattress and opts to lean against the desk. “okay, okay. i’m going. but seriously? proud of you for finally getting laid.”

“we weren’t—” you protest.

gojo grins. “don’t lie to me. i walked in on a scene straight out of a fanfic. candles? music? fushiguro, you romantic dog.”

megumi looks like he might pass out.

you bury your face in your hands. “please leave.”

gojo waves as he steps out the door. “alright, alright. i’ll be in my room, being lonely and unloved.”

“have fun with that,” megumi sneers, slamming the door shut and locking it. he lets out a groan as he slumps onto the bed. “i’m going to kill him.”

you sit beside him and slip your hand into his. “you tried to kill him.”

“i had a plan for tonight,” he mutters. “a whole plan!”

you glance down at his lap and notice that he’s still… affected.

you bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. “we could still salvage tonight.”

he turns to look at you slowly, hope in his eyes.

“besides,” you say, “he won’t come back, and everyone else is out on missions.”

a grin creeps up on megumi’s face. and then he leans back in for a kiss.

[orelicia]

could i request the seven brothers with a gn!lover who falls asleep the second they cuddle ? like it can start as some simple cuddles, and then their lover is just going to pass out in their arms without a single care in the world. and is hugging them very quickly so they can’t really move. (if the seven brothers is too much pick whoever you prefer)

Cuddles for you, only you!!

Xeijun's Letters: Thank you so much for the love you all gave on the first two posts!! Hope you all enjoy this one too!! Can you tell I really love Lucifer?

Warnings: Reader might be fem coded, so I'm sorry for that. I mean to make it as gender ambiguous I can!! Putting on makeup (Asmo), mentions of cocaine.

Genre: Fluff || Scenarios.

Lucifer

You sat on Lucifer's lap, while swinging your legs and humming to yourself. Being free from your assignments meant the free token to bother your darling boyfriend while he does paperwork as always.

Humming to yourself, your fingers fiddled gently with his hair on his nape while your cheek rested against his shoulder. Lucifer hummed, smiling, the weight of you on his legs felt nice, warm and the humming gently rumbled in his chest as well as he worked. It's been awhile since you've two just been together silently, with all his brothers shenanigans.

As he read the papers, feeling you move, he sighed but smiled, "Is something bothering you now??" he asked as you hummed silently, "Mm..Not really, but you're paying more attention to your paperwork than me." he said silently, pressing your lips to his jaw.

"You better be all mine after this is all done" you hummed as he nodded, "Yes-yes..I get it." he assured you, gently pressing your face back against his shoulder.

He went back to his work, humming to the silent classical music you had played from an MP3, more so for white noise to his paperwork. He wrote down the allocated money for the council and any and all clubs, checked up on Diavolo's reign, the subjects, the demons and witches and sorcerers. Everyone and everything demanded his utmost attention, why is it so?

Why can't people do things without him having to yell at them to check over things for them!?

As he wrote, his hand moved you and pressed you closer to him as you hummed and let out a gentle yawn. After finally being done, he leaned back sighing in relief and slight exhaustion.

"Up now, dear." he mumbled, waiting for you to listen so you two could snuggle on bed, instead of his chair. Yet when you did nothing, he gently lifted your head to find you asleep, warm and quiet.

Your cheek squished gently against his warm hand, a soft and relaxed look which is rather rare and soft snores as he almost grinned.

You were just perfect for him despite being a human..how ironic..

He gently let your had fall back against his shoulder as he gently put his hands under your knees and your back and tried to stand up but could barely budge, oh this again..

He looked down at you, to see your legs hooked under the arm and beside his side to keep him in place as if to hold him against you as tight as h could, likely to melt your skin together so he won't leave...

Well, all the more time to let him admire you!

Mammon

You grinned, counting the grimms and notes Mammon somehow won with you as his 'lucky charm' apparently. The only reason you bothered to join him was because he was sweet talking you far too much to let you ignore him.

Finally Mammon smirked, taking a last shot, shoving the glass on the table and walking after you as you skipped ahead, glad with the money he got. He walked faster, pulled you back by your waist,

"Oi, human! Quit stealin' my money"

He scoffed, but not really mad or anything, really just allowing you to do anything and obviously speaking fondly.

You shrugged, and continued walking ahead to the parking lot and waited for him to unlock the expensive car, and as he did, he got in first. You stretched your shoulders before Mammon pulls his seat back and lets you climb into his lap.

"Better get home before Lucifer hangs us up." he huffed, pulling out the driveway, as you grin.

You usually wouldn't do it, but partaking in the adrenaline rush Mammon does in the private chambers he's booked regularly for the past 1000 years, it's a place of Russian roulette, guns, drugs, alcohol and indulgence in you and his greed.

So you silently got in, leaning your head on his shoulder as he pressed a soft kiss to your head, "You okay?" he asked softly as you nodded as he began driving. You hummed softly, one hand on his other shoulder, thumb subconsciously stroking circles.

Mammon silently turns the sound of the radio up form the tiny panel on the steering wheel, playing some music as one foot subconsciously, very subtly tapped to the rhythm as he drove. One hand on your back, gently stroking.

It wasn't far too long that the House of Lamentation was in sight, as he parked, waited for you to bounce up and open the door and rush in like you always did..

Hm...weird, his head perked up when you didn't so he announced, "We're here, human." he said softly, but you didn't budge did he look down.

Breath soft, glitter everywhere on your body, cocaine somewhere in your hair after he got a bit too playful with 'snow', smell of cigarette and alcohol clung to you..But eyes softly shut in tiredness.

Your feet aching but you ignored for the pursuit of squishing your cheek against his bare chest which showed through his shirt, your shoes hooked on the little panel on the lower part of his door, making it absolutely non refusal to get out lest someone from outside opened the door..

He knew he wouldn't budge, so he just pulled out his phone to send a text to the family chat...

Ah, stupid humans..They fall asleep and do everything so easily, like making him fall in love all over again..

Leviathan

Levi watched with a soft snicker as you groaned, staring at the 'You lose' stamped in bright red as if branding you as an idiot at games. He patted your back softly,

"Lmao..how many times have you lost again??"

He asked with a grin, taking another photo of the screen, gently using the edit tool on his phone to edit the photo to circle a 'losses: 18 || wins: 0'. It was right under the 'You lost' banner and it showed your losses.

You sighed, "I don't get it..How do you pass this damn level!?" you turned to him as he sighed, covered in his blanket to minimise his embarrassment for wearing a Ruri-chan theme night pajamas.

He scoffed with a smirk, his eyes focused on the screen where you went wrong as he spoke, "Lmaooo, loser..AH-sorry, sorry, please don't hate me!!" he said, suddenly realising it was you..

He couldn't say that, what if you hated him for your entire life?? For an eternity and you BROKE UP WITH HIM?! He couldn't ever forgive himself...

But you brushed it off, shoving the controller back to him, as he smiled,

"Let me." he hummed, adding your save as you grumpily crawled onto his lap, instead choosing to pull out your DDD. It wasn't a very much video game marathon, the pair of you just usually did these nights where you both were on your separate devices, doing whatever but still together.

Levi hummed, one hand on the back of your upper thighs, but not quite on your ass as he squeezed gently with his large hands as you snuggled your face into his shoulder, pressing a quick kiss as he played the game.

He pressed the button, forcing the character to jump up while throwing explosions at the main boss, his fingers tapped even more, trying to defeat the many minions the character's way.

A few more hits, he waited as he tried to finish the quest under the time given, he gently pushed your hand over his shoulders as you groaned softly, but didn't protest..Weird.

Finally, Levi grinned as he won, softly whooping under his breath,

"Yessss!! Henry, did ya see??!" he asked brightly, as he waited for an affirming hum and when he didn't receive it..he felt awkward and insecure.

Of-course why would you be paying attention more to him than your DDD? Levi could almost cry but he didn't as he felt soft breaths on his ear as he gently tried to pull you apart to se your face which was hidden in his shoulders, but you didn't even budge.

"Henry..? Uhhh.." Levi softly called your name, as you didn't answer, only snuggling close as he gently pushed back your hair from the side of your face, to get a glimpse of your eyes closed and him unable to move as he sighed.

Squealing excitedly, he sighed out, "Eeeekkk!! They wanna sleep against you so tight you can't move!!! It's exactly like what happens in MycrushisasleepdemonsoIbecometheirpillowandnowican'tbudge!, yes! YESSS!!" he said, before clamping a hand to his mouth, realising he got too loud before he patted your back softly.

Trying to lull you back to deeper sleep, he sighed out with a smile. Oh the stupid otaku has a love so deep!~

Satan

Satan sighed, rubbing the back of his nape as he stretched his shoulders as you both groaned, entering after finally finishing one of the most tiring days at RAD that you could remember in the past month.

You dropped your bags, as Satan quickly attempted to change, throwing you one of his comfy shirts to stay in as you got in his bed, turning on the air conditioner to a slightly higher setting.

Finally done, he got into bed with you, "Who puts three hexes and curses lesson in a row on the same DAMN DAY?!" he asked, removing his blazer and then unbuttoning his shirt and folding it, loosening his tie.

You huffed, tiredly pulling on some pair of shorts of yours which likely laid around with how often you were over, and pulling one of Satan's white night shirts as he sighed, wiping his face with some wet wipes to remove the sweat and all..

Annoyance and wrath was already pooling in his eyes and your sigil of his, his pact, glowed green as you scoffed.

"An idiot does." you scoffed, pulling a book or something to see if you could pass the time until lunch came around. You'd want to start a new one, but you and Satan had been busy reading this book he'd recently got.

You pulled it from his nightstand, cursing since you both forgot to somehow bookmark it as you flipped the pages trying to see where you were.

Satan looked over your shoulder, humming in affirmation to see if you'd read the part of not.

Finally getting to where you both read, Satan laid-sat back as you leaned against him, Satan's thighs pulled up so he could rest the book there as you snuggled into his chest, inhaling his scent of old books, mint, green apples and dark chocolate..

"You know, I'm surprised nothing happened in class today, no?" he said as you hummed in slight agreement.

THREE curses and hexes classes back-to-back, you're surprised no one got sent to the infirmary by one of the seven brother because one of the demons annoyed them a bit too much..

But silently, his eyes trained over the words. The character's discovery to her magical heritage with the help of a demon, she arrives at the new place and is trying to find herself and fit somewhere..

His finger fiddled with the end, the book smelled of cats, dark chocolate and tiramisu from the last time you were eating it while reading the book..He waits for any type of sign that you're done reading after he himself is done. But nothing, so he gives it a few more minutes.

He hums softly, his cheek against the top of her head, he smells your shampoo, presses a kiss and waits. He re-reads the same two pages a few times until he is sure it shouldn't be taking you this long to read.

"MC..?" he looks down, one of his arm was around your waist and the other on the side of the book to hold it straight.

Since he saw your head lolling back and forth as he removed his hand form the book to gently push your hair back and pull your head onto his shoulder.

Snores soft and tiredness obvious, he knew it was tiring today and this was obviously bound to happen. He smiles, gently kissing your forehead as he actually put a book mark in, one you bought him with Claude Monet's painting on it.

He gently put the book aside, having expected you to sleep with how tired you were from RAD, just not this early. He softly laid down, pulling you as he hummed softly,

"Sleep tight, dear." he smiled. Oh Devil, you fit perfectly in his arms!!

Asmodeus

"Ooo, mauve and pink together, Pleaseee!!" Asmodeus almost squealed as he straddled your waist as you laid on his bed. Letting him do your makeup as you sighed.

"Sure, do what you want" you said with a soft smile as Asmo smiled, his glossy lips gently kissing your lips before she sat up, straddling your waist as he applied foundation, he seemed so adamant on this position, not that you minded.

"Hm, you know we should do skin care more often, cutie! Your skin is just glowing!" he said softly, using the clean wet sponge to spread your foundation after primer and all the base. You closed your eyes a bit since the foundation felt itchy and you didn't want it in your eyes, but Asmo gently pushed back your hair and continued.

He spread the foundation, softly humming and whistling 'ghost town' by Veorra which you introduced to him as he gently nodded his head side to side to the beat subconsciously, as he gently patted your skin to see if the foundation got streaky, it didn't.

He gently hummed, putting on concealer, contour and powder softly, humming to himself as he admired you. You usually wouldn't, but you trusted him enough to let him do make up on you, mostly as a test trial.

"Oh my! Your cheeks are so cute!!" Asmo cooed, almost ready to pepper kisses on them, but he paused since his gloss might ruin your foundation and the base he laid down, "Hm.. Pink and mauve, but colour were you thinking??"

He hummed, holding up the make-up palette as you slightly lifted your head at an awkward angle while trying not to give yourself cramps in your collarbones, neck or jaw or anywhere as he hummed softly.

You chose two to three colours, which you knew would go nice together, as he giggled and gently began prepping your eyes before he started to do your eye makeup, complex and pretty.

He softly made cat eye crease, gently colouring your eyes like his personal colour book with makeup as his art supplies as he hummed, his thighs gently squeezing your waist in support as you closed your eyes. Another shade on the inner corner, another colour in the inner-upper side.

A few very delicately crafted eyeliner to pull it together, with rhinestones, pearls or makeup decorations and all.

After eyeshadow, he leaned back and admired his handiwork for a little bit, your eyes closed politely and sweetly like an obedient kid's.

His hand refused to shake as he gently laid down the inky black eye liner with colourful liner too, making sure to fill in gaps but also not leak the eyeliner in your eyes since he knew, as a human, that wouldn't be pleasant.

"Oh, I'm just pretty in everything I do, don't I?" Asmo smiled, cupping his cheek as you hummed softly, your eyes still close, "Hmm-...hmm..Keep your eyes closed, this liner takes a sec or something!" he worked to curl your lashes, mascara and lash pearls so you had dotted eyelashes. Oh you were such ADORABLE!!

And finally, he dug through his bag to pull out multiple lip products, lining with two different colours, lipcolour was a mixture of five different; mauve, a deep shade of magenta, dark wine red, dusty red and a soft purple-pink..

It looked so good, dare he say, heavenly on you!

He applied lipgloss and setting spray and he was finally done, his finger very gently touched your eyelid, on the eyeliner, "Hm..It's dry, cutie. You can get up!!" he squealed, waiting for you to open your eyes and smile.

A second or two passed, as he got concern, "Honey..? Oh shit" he grumbled, looking through his bag, which he kept separated to make sure he didn't use anything that would be harmful or poisonous or anything!

Finding and hurriedly reading anything and everything, he checked your breath to see you breathing normally which made him pause. His finger softly tickled your side, "Cutie..?...oh." he paused.

You were asleep, your legs tight around him so he couldn't get off you..DAMMIT! Don't scare him like that, his skin might get wrinkles..But thank the Devil you're okay! He sighed, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead, before pulling out his phone.

His devilgram followers are going to love your makeup!!

Beelzebub

Finishing, you brushed your hands and wiped them, "You sure you want to wait for me, MC?" Beel asked softly, still in the middle of seven two times, so technically 14, different dishes.

You shrugged, humming since you didn't feel up to doing ANY activity and Asmo, who took you both shopping, let you both stay in to eat. He could handle a few hundred bags himself, he is the fifth born after all and thank Diavolo for that.

You leaned against him, legs across his lap and his bicep as your pillow in the booth you two were sitting as he sat silently. You weren't gonna lie you didn't understand why Asmo was so insistent on dressing up to just go to the mall, but now you understood. It looked like one of the most lavish buildings you've seen.

People decked out in their most fashionable clothes, dressing up casual would just look like a hobo entered in, no offence to anyone.

Just seeing it made you tired as you subtly removed your shoes on the floor, under the table and sat criss-cross, the place was so fricking clean, you wouldn't lie.

Leaning against, Beel hummed in delight chewing on his fifth burger, taking a sip of his second cup of dev-coke to wash it (it had cocaine in it!!), as he dipped his burger into the plate of corn-cheese, eating fries and nachos in between as he swallowed food over and over.

He was glad Lucifer agreed to fund them, his single modelling photos went for billions, who knew trillions of dead humans, sinners and hell-born demons, witches and others since the beginning of time would pay that much for the avatar of pride to model?

He didn't care about that right now, he was busy more busy gulping down his seventh burger, be quiet humanity and demonity!

He chewed silently, licking the sauce of his fingers, pulling a tissue and wiping before he sipped his sprite and coke and his milkshake, then went back to nachos and fifth box of fries.

He hummed in delight, when he finally finished, he patted your thighs, wiping his hands and digging in your purse quietly to pull out a wet wipe to wash his hand, as he sighed with a small smile. He felt so good...for the next two hour or so.

He smiled, "done, MC!" he said brightly, looking down to find you asleep, trying to keep him in place as he tilted his head, "Hm? Oh..you must have been tired." he whispered.

But nonetheless, he picked you up like a little doll, one hand on your butt (for privacy), the other holding you tight as he walked out, thanking the waiter, ducking a bit to not crush his forehead on the doorframe.

He walked a bit, finally meet Asmo in a shoe shop, grumbling with a box over some baby pink heels in annoyance, but it melted when he saw you over Beel's shoulder.

"Ah, they fell asleep!! I got the cutest thing for them, no worries. We'll let them try on at home!!" Asmo said, gently squeezing your cheek on Beel.

The fifth born pulled the sixth born, and you sleeping on his shoulder for more shopping

Belphegor

"And that is Heracles and that one is Jason, I think I met Jason once. Since Lucifer and Diavolo are technically a sort of Hades..I don't know. I think i'm a fury..." he whispered sleepily, barely comprehending what he said.

But you felt compelled to believe him as he sat up somewhat to try and stay awake while he tried to explain the stars to you, his eyes squinting to see where each star was while you admired him.

"God, Jason reminds me of Grey Sister's taxi company...it's mostly just them duplicating themselves to serve demons and entities..They drive so bad, it makes Beel sick." he whispered as you shrugged,

"Who..?", "Grey sisters. Once they made Mammon so mad, he took their eye and tooth and threatened to turn it to gold so they can never see.." he whispered, far too out of it as you laughed softly.

Boys never had a simple story such as visiting a lake, always something crazy with mythology mixed in, again he spoke as if he was an oracle,

"Yumraj likes to see Diavolo every few weeks.", "....The Hindu god of death?" you whispered softly as Belphie snored after almost falling asleep, again, when you snapped your finger to him.

Belphie groaned, actually sitting up and letting go of his pillow to try and stay awake which he sometimes found it slightly difficult to do (as difficult as can be for him, the epitome of sloth) without Diasy.

He looked up at the stars, chewing on a strawberry as he sat on the gingham patterned mat, he could now see the stars more as he hummed softly,

"That star there is Mars. Mars is, obviously, named after the Roman god of War, the Roman counterpart of Ares, the greek god of war." he said softly, letting him rant about random Greek shit. You didn't know he knew so much, but you shrugged. Eyes drooping with love.

He spoke on topic to try and stay awake, despite the difficulty he faced and you appreciated it.

You both were sitting on the backyard of House of Lamentation, on gingham patterned picnic blanket with snacks which you somehow concealed the smell of from Beel using a spell while star-gazing.

Well, you laid and he sat.

Belphie spoke on different stories, his own stories he made up about the constellations and the real stories,

"That is 'Orion'. Orion proclaimed himself to be such a great hunter and that he was the son of Zeus" he said, his fingers moving to motion a pattern of the constellations,

"This made Hera made, it always does but no judgement to her, and she sent a scorpion to kill him. That scorpion later became the constellation of 'Scorpius'..." he whispered softly, his hand gently patting your hair.

"Zeus took pity on him and turned him into a constellations in the stars." Belphie hummed, softly. "Zeus was, no offence, a weirdo." he whispered, as you hummed in agreement, your arm around his waist as he smiled.

After moments of talking, he stood up, "I need to go to the bathroom.." he whispered, but unable to with your tight grip, as he waited for you to let him go..

He looked down, seeing your eyes closing and you on the peak to sleep as he grinned, uncovering the grapes and sighing, he hurriedly teleported to go and came back.

Seeing you sleep, your arm reaching around the blanket to look for him, the sight making him smile. He silently laid down beside you, deciding his own sloth-ness needs to be fulfilled,

"Enough stars for one day..."

© orelicia. I do not give permission to modify, translate, copy or repost ANY of my works. Reblogs are very much beloved!

[andraxicated]

yacht sex with sylus purrrr

tags: nsfw | p in v | fingering | dirty talk | every filthy shit my cooch can think of | reverse cowgirl into the sunset

Summer with Sylus is always composed of luxurious trips and tiny designer bikinis that barely cover your skin. And him, looking like an absolute snack with his abs basking in the glow of the afternoon sun. He has sunglasses on, and yet he feels you checking him out before making a move on him. You climb to his lap like a kitten, and his arm naturally goes to your waist to secure you on top of his cock.

"Wow, someone's excited" You tease, slotting yourself perfectly for him to feel the throb of your pussy.

"I don't think I'm the only one who's excited, sweetheart" He removes his sunglasses and places it on the table. Caressing your face before tucking stray hair behind your ear. "May I check?"

"Thought you'd never ask" You whisper as your lips go for each other in a passionate kiss. He graces you with his tongue, and you let him in as he moves your panty to the side to feel the wetness. He groans as you immediately soak his fingers, entering his large finger and slushing more of your goodness. You pull away to take a breath, but he catches you with his lips, not letting you go as he adds another finger to the mix and moves with a fast pace. You squirm in his hold, feeling the high that builds up as you tighten your hands around his shoulders. You melt deeper in the messy kiss to ground yourself as you approach your high, but Sylus has other plans to make you cum. He pulls his fingers away and you frown, yet he only smirks and lets you watch him put his fingers in his mouth.

"Fuck me now."

"No kitten, let's watch the sunset. You said you wanted to watch the sunset on my yacht, didn't you?"

You furrow your brows and huff, "Yes, I did...but I want you right now too"

Sylus smiles and turns you to face the incoming orange glow in the sky. He nibbles on your ear, kisses your cheek, and whispers, "Why don't we watch the sunset together while you ride me, hmm? So we can fulfill both of my pretty girl's wishes?" He wastes no time untying the bra of your bikini, his huge hands cupping your pussy as he massages them before tearing the panty to the side.

You gasp, "Sylus! That was Dior!"

"You have plenty of Dior stuff, baby." He lines up his bulbous head to the entrance of your pussy and penetrates your walls, pounding you upwards as his thick thighs slap against your own. He has his grip on your waist like a steering wheel, guiding you to move your ass to his rhythm.

Obscene sounds come out of your mouth as he continues to drop you on his cock. He meets your body as he batters your insides up, relishing the feeling of your warm walls sliding on his cock. He throws his head back as you squeeze on him. Your whines music to his ears. He knows he's the only one who can make you feel this good. Sylus' cock is the only thing you'd bounce on, and he swore you shake your ass just for him, just like what you're doing right now.

"That's it kitten, move that body."

The sun is forgotten from his view, all his focus on the jiggle of your sexy ass and how his cock disappears into you. But you, who have the perfect view of the sunset, feel high in the sky with all the ecstasy you're feeling. You bounce as hard as you can, impaling yourself on his hard cock even if it tears you apart and your hips hurt. You cry out his name, and he shushes you with pecks. "You can do it, continue."

Sylus hurts so good, along with the butterfly kisses and bites he presses to your back to motivate you. Your gaze flutters at the setting sun, reflecting on the water beautifully, making you want to kiss him because the moment is perfect. But it's like your minds are linked because Sylus suddenly grabs your chin and kisses you like there's no tomorrow. He pistons in and out faster, creating wet sounds from your pussy, and you can already feel the incoming soreness tomorrow. Such a thick cock penetrating you always leaves you limping like a lamb. Sylus presses his head strategically against your sweet spot, targeting it like a game as you falter in his hold. You ended up letting him hit your womb while laying on his chest to lazily look at the view as he does all the work.

He chuckles, "Leaving all the work to me? That's not nice" Sylus repositions and manhandles you like a doll. His muscled arm hooks under both of your thighs, lifting your body close to him as he administers his final thrusts for you take it like a good girl "Your pussy is so tight, fuck"

You cry and bounce to help him climax, snaking your arm to the back of his head to pull him in for another messy kiss. He responds hungrily as his cockhead beats up your cunt a few more times before you pull away to scream into the sun, shaking and overstimulated by the release you just had. Your contracting walls and cum washing over his dick triggers his own high, groaning deeply into your neck as you caress his hair while warm sticky liquid floods your insides. You're so used to having him raw that the feeling of his cum adds to your climax and relaxes you. You don't even mind the mess he made between your legs.

Sylus stays inside and soothes your lower body with his massages, knowing they were dead after all the exercise you did. He calms you down and peppers kisses all over your face before landing on your lips. You look up at him and smile, hiding your face on his chest before staring at the sun going down the horizon.

"Round 2 in the shower?"

You ask and his dick twitches back to life inside you.

[xoln04f1xo]

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff

WC: 1k

DC: @strangergraphics

Oscar Piastri was not used to nerves.

He could handle 300 km/h turns and intense radio messaged mid race easily. He could remain cool under the pressure of qualifying laps and media days, always calculated, always calm.

But this?

This was something entirely different.

His palms were sweaty, which was ridiculous because he had applied sunscreen at least three times that day. The little velvet box in the pocket of his shorts felt like it weighed five kilos, even though he's checked it maybe fifteen times to make sure it was still there.

And you? You were walking a few paces ahead of him on the beach, barefoot in the soft white sand, completely unaware. Laughing at something he didn't catch. Looking over your shoulder at him with that sunshine smile.

God he loved you.

He loved it when you wore his oversized hoodie and stole the last few Oreos from the cupboard. He loved it when you FaceTimed him from home just to ask which takeout he wanted for when he got home. He loved it when you showed up at races with tiny good-luck notes folded into his gloves.

And tonight, he was going to ask you to be his forever.

But holy fucking hell was he nervous.

He had rehearsed the words a thousand timed. On the plane here. In the shower. Whispered into his pillow the night before while you were curled up to him, breathing softly.

He just... didn't want to mess it up.

"Hey," you called back to him, flashing a grin. "Are you lagging because I beat you in paddle boarding or..?"

He laughed, voice a little too high. "No.. no.. just uhh, enjoying the view."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but slowed your pace to let him catch up. "You okay? You've been acting weird since dinner."

He reached for your hand instinctively, threading his fingers through yours.

"I'm okay, promise." he said. more to convince himself than you. "Just thinking."

You leaned your head on his shoulder as you walked. "About what?"

"You," he answered truthfully, heart thumping so loud he wondered if you could hear it.

As the sky melted into hues of pinks and oranges, the two of your stopped in front of a little cove, where the waves kissed the shoreline softly. The resort had given you a private path for the evening. A single bamboo torch flickered beside a blanket already laid out with fruit, two drinks, and a tiny speaker playing soft music.

You blinked. "Oscar, what is this?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Just... wanted a special evening."

You gave him a smile, your eyes twinkling with curiosity. "It's beautiful."

The nervous energy in his chest turned into something warm and overwhelming.

Now or never.

He took a deep breath and stepped in front of you, gently taking both your hands.

"Y/N," he began, voice shaking despite his best efforts. "I've been trying to figure out the perfect words for this moment... and I thought they'd come easy. I mean... I talk to press every weekend."

You chuckled, eyes softening.

"But I've realised," he continued, "there are no perfect words. Because what I feel for you is bigger than anything I can say."

He paused. You stared at him, heart hammering, lips parting slightly as you began to realize what was happening.

"I travel the world, I drive some of the fastest cars, and I meet thousands of people. But nothing - nothing - ever feels quite right unless you're part of it. You make everywhere feel like home."

And then... in one fluid, practiced motion, he dropped to one knee in the sand and pulled the little velvet box out of his pocket.

Your breath caught.

"Y/N," he said, eyes glistening in the fading sunlight. "Will you marry me?"

You blinked. Tears welled instantly in your eyes as your hand flew to your mouth. For a second, all you could do was nod, frantically, heart swelling so full it felt like it could burst.

"Yes," you whispered, voice cracking. Then louder. "Yes! Oscar... yes.!"

The biggest, most relieved, happiest grin bloomed across his face as he slid the delicate gold ring onto your trembling finger. He stood, and you threw your arms around him, practically launching yourself into his chest.

Oscar laughed against your neck, holding you tight, burying his face into your hair.

"You really said yes?" he mumbled, voice muffled and stunned.

"Yes," you repeated, laughing through tears, "Of course I did you idiot. I love you."

He pulled back just enough to look at you. "I love you too. More than I have ever loved anything."

Then he kissed you - slow, smiling, sweet. The kind of kiss that said we did it. The kind that felt like a new beginning.

Later that night, you were curled into each other on the blanket, watching stars appear one by one.

Oscar kept looking at your hand like he couldn't believe the ring was really there. He traced circles on your knuckles with his thumb, completely smitten.

"Were you really nervous?" you asked, turning to look at him.

"Petrified," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "I almost dropped the ring in the ocean."

You burst into laughter. "Stop it. You did not."

"I did! That box is slippery, okay?"

You leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You were perfect."

"I'm glad," he murmured. "I wanted it to be just right."

You were quiet for a moment, then whispered, "I think this is the happiest I've ever been."

Oscar tightened his arm around you. "Just wait till the wedding. And the honeymoon. And the seventy plus more years I plan on loving you."

You blinked slowly, heart melting all over again.

"I don't need anything fancy," you said. "Just you."

"I'm yours," he said simply. "Forever."

And with the moon shining softly over the ocean, and your ring glittering in the starlight, you knew - this was the beginning of everything you'd ever dreamed of.

L's thoughts: Heyy! so i was thinking about writing a wedding scene? Lmk what you think.

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