#and it’s hard to explain how you can know someone without ever Knowing them. how u can have names when all u have are pictures and feelings

[blumhe1]

𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘

ׂׂׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Too shy for your first kiss, you wonder if the moment will ever come—until he shows you how a touchless kind of love can still make your heart flutter. No kiss, no rush—just the hush of almost, and the warmth of love that knows how to wait. Gentle, and just close enough to fill you with butterflies.

Yeon Si-Eun x Fem!Reader

GENRE : Fluff, romance, introvert x shy trop, green!flag!Si-Eun.

TW : Shy!Reader.

Autor Note: Posting it on my primary blog as it will become my fluffy and cute blog!

You were sitting beside Si-Eun as he helped you with some homework you couldn’t quite understand. But it was hard to focus—your thoughts kept drifting, your heart fluttering every time you sat this close to him. His leg gently brushed against yours, and while he didn’t seem to mind the closeness, you could tell he actually liked it—even if his face stayed as unreadable as ever. Still, his eyes gave him away. They held a hidden warmth, just for you.

You suddenly froze, gaze fixed on his face, your eyes softening without you realizing. Si-Eun stopped mid-explanation when he noticed your stillness, turning his head toward you.

“You okay?” he asked gently. You snapped out of it and quickly waved your hands in front of you.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay,” you stammered, redirecting your attention to the notebook on his desk. He resumed his explanation, but you found yourself stealing glances at his face—and more than once, at his lips.

You and Si-Eun had been together for a while now, yet you still hadn’t had your first kiss. Unlike most couples your age, you hadn’t crossed that line—not because either of you refused to, but because you were scared. You didn’t know why exactly. Maybe it was the fear of messing up, or maybe it just felt too intimate, too unfamiliar. Even if he was your boyfriend, the idea of kissing someone was still... overwhelming.

“______?” he said, snapping you out of your thoughts again. “Do I have something… on my face?” He touched his cheek, confused.

“N-No! It’s not that. You don’t have anything on your face,” you replied quickly, smiling shyly. He looked kind of cute when he was flustered like that. Then again, he was always cute—so much so that you often wondered how you’d ended up with someone like him.

“Then what is it? You’re not listening to anything I’m saying,” he said, narrowing his eyes just a bit. Your own eyes widened in panic. How were you supposed to explain that you’d been staring at his lips because you were too nervous to ask for your first kiss?

“Your lips…” you mumbled before you could stop yourself, the words slipping out of your mouth before you realized it.

“My lips?” he repeated, tilting his head as he set his pencil down and turned to face you. “What about them?”

You froze again. Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. He waited in silence, watching you, his curiosity growing.

“Well…” You tried to explain, but the words just wouldn’t come out. How could you tell him how badly you wanted your first kiss, but that you were also scared of it?

He suddenly leaned in closer. One of his hands rested on the desk, the other braced against the back of your chair, trapping you between him and the table.

“You’re blushing… Is it because of me? Is that why you can’t concentrate?” he asked calmly, his voice gentle—but his proximity made it impossible for you to think straight. You leaned back in your chair, breath hitching in your throat as the space between you disappeared.

“M-Maybe we should take a break,” he said, finally leaning back to give you room to breathe. You quickly stood up and moved to sit on his bed, putting some space between you. You couldn’t even look at him—you were breathless, and all he had done was exist too close to you.

He looked at you from his seat. “So… was it because of me?” he asked again, not to tease, but because he genuinely wanted to understand. He had never been in love before you, never had a crush—so all of this was just as new and confusing for him as it was for you. Everything you did together felt like discovering something uncharted.

“Yes… No! Well… kinda?” you fumbled, trying to compose yourself. He stood up and walked over, then sat beside you on the bed.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked gently.

You quickly shook your head. “No! I’ve just been thinking about something. Something I’m… curious about.”

He listened, patient as ever. “What is it?”

You inhaled deeply. “Our first kiss…”

He straightened his back slightly and cleared his throat, but his gaze returned to you—softer now, almost tender. His eyes were full of quiet affection, like he’d been thinking about the same thing.

“I want to have it with you… but…” you hesitated.

His eyes lit up at your confession, his cheeks slightly pink too. He was flustered, just like you. Neither of you had done this before.

“But?” he asked softly.

“I do want to kiss you, but… I’m scared,” you admitted, nervously toying with your fingers. “Not because I don’t want it—but because it’s my first. I’ve never been kissed before, and the idea of someone kissing me on the lips is… kind of overwhelming. Even if it’s you.”

Si-Eun didn’t respond right away. But he understood. He’d never push you into anything you weren’t ready for. Still, a small idea formed in his head.

Suddenly, he gently pushed you down on the bed, moving above you. You gasped.

“Si-Eun—!”

You didn’t have time to say more. His face leaned in close—so close you could feel the tip of his nose brushing your cheek. His lips hovered above yours, but he didn’t kiss you. One hand stroked the top of your head gently, the other covered your mouth. Then he lowered his lips to the back of his hand, his breath warming your skin, his nose still touching your cheek.

He held your gaze as the seconds stretched between you. Butterflies filled your stomach.

Then he pulled his hand away slowly.

“If you’re not ready… I won’t cross your boundaries,” he said, voice low and sincere. Your heart fluttered at his words.

Instead of kissing you, he pressed his lips gently to the corner of your mouth—close, but respectful. Not even brushing your lips. Just enough to leave you breathless all over again.

“You’re mine… but that doesn’t mean I’ll do anything you’re not ready for,” he whispered.

You stayed there like that, hearts pounding.

What other man in the world could compare to someone like him?

[if-underourskins]

howdy!! just found this if the other day, and i’m super excited to see how it goes!!

for the emoji asks, i was thinking maybe 📿 or 🪶 for everyone?

Have a great day! 😊

welcome !!! i hope you enjoy the IF <3

[ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ?

Victoria will never cross her cutlery, her father taught her well enough. she had done it once when she was younger, in front of their guests, and her mother had to gently uncross them for her before explaining it to her. though she doesn't remember the whole thing, there was misfortune and severed relationships somewhere in the explanation, and she learnt that it was just a bad™ thing to do. ever since then, she makes sure it isn't crossed to the point that it's habit now. Blaine was told that if she/ he didn't eat beans, she'd/ he'd be taken away by Santa Claus and become an elf and have to slave away for the rest of her/ his life as a kid. Granted, the threat was something that she/ he was fearful of when she/ he was younger, and Blaine's mother had just used it to get her/ him to eat the beans, despite her/ him complaining about the texture. Now, Blaine still dutifully chomps them down, even if the fear is gone... or is it? Elexis knows it's silly, but even now, if someone were to touch his shoulder or head, his hand automatically rises to snap a few times over it. It's an old superstition taught by his mother, to "reignite the fires" which are "needed to protect one from evil spirits and bad luck". It's a superstition that came from the Hungry Ghosts festival, but since his family did it all the time, so does he. Seraph makes sure that their hair is always neat. Whether it is brushing after a shower or before bed, Seraph's hair is soft and gorgeous, tucked neatly behind a ear or swept away from their forehead. Their mother had hated it whenever their hair fell into their face – even if it was just a strand of hair, she'd click her tongue and her sharp nail will come to sweep it out of their face; and if Seraph's hair ever gets too unruly, they know they're in for the lecture. Brooks used to skip over the cracks on the sidewalk. He had heard "step on a crack break your mother's back" too many times, and since he didn't want harm to happen to his mother, he'd make sure to carefully avoid them. When he stepped on them, he'd recoil in fear and used to slide his feet over the crack multiple times, since in his little brain that meant that he was "soothing" the pain he had caused, and the crack would forgive him and his mother wouldn't be hurt. Now, he knew that it isn't true, but still, he'd sometimes skip over cracks, just in case. basically, old habits die hard, even if they're silly.

[ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ?

Victoria: loud. with her head thrown back and a hand slapping on the table. her eyes glitter as she looks at you. "really?" she cackles. "no fucking way. holy shit." laughs till she is out of breath and wheezing. Blaine: you hear the geniune feeling in it. whether it is amusement, or surprise, or happiness. there's usually a wide smile on her/ his face too. it brightens up her/ his usually serious face. Elexis: quiet at first, but after a while, they snort. a lot. cover his mouth with his hands as he laughs. Seraph: mostly an amused snort or smile. they've taught themself to restrain from laughing too loudly, since it's "unbecoming". you can absolutely shock them into laughing really hard at something ridiculous though. (tell them a word pun and I promise they'd love it.) Brooks: laughs hard. clutches at his side and doubles over. it's a light sounding laugh, and he laughs openly, without needing to hide it.

[bisexualseraphim]

Also, I refuse to entertain the discourse as to whether acespec people are “oppressed” or not, but I will say it’s really fucking lonely — especially if you fall somewhere on the spectrum that’s a little more unconventional.

I’ve discussed many times before how I feel absolutely no attraction whatsoever except towards my lovely partner. I went through the phases queer men tend to: exploring many types of pornography and cruising on Grindr. I really tried, and none of it has ever done anything for me. It wasn’t until I started having sex with my partner that I realised, ohhh, so that’s how most people feel. And even then, enjoying sex with him is far more of an intimacy thing than the actual physical sensations. I do not fantasise about other people or consume porn. There is only him.

And yet when I’ve spoken about this in acespec spaces, I’m still treated as some sort of weirdo who doesn’t belong. I’ve literally been told many times that I can’t be demisexual because demis will still fantasise and consume porn (although that doesn’t line up with my understanding that demis require a close bond to feel sexual attraction, but never mind), and I’ve even been accused of having some weird internalised Christian puritan shit going on because I genuinely cannot comprehend ever looking at or thinking about someone in that way who isn’t my man. As if anything about this is a choice for me and it is offensive to them somehow. As if only feeling attraction to one person is like… “worse” than never feeling any attraction at all. I’ve never once shamed others for how they experience sex and sexual attraction and never would, yet people act like that’s what I’m inherently doing just by speaking about my own experiences.

So no, I won’t say whether acespec people are “oppressed” or not because honestly, when is this shit ever going to come up in conversation and ever be that relevant? But the fact I don’t feel I can talk about it even amongst other queer people, even amongst others in the acespec community, kind of speaks for itself.

Being a queer man who can’t relate to all the stereotypes and anecdotes about enjoying casual sex is one type of loneliness. Being a queer acespec man who can’t even relate to most others in the acespec community is another. I can never win, and either way I do not fit in.

[villainsidestep]

fawniel thoughts hour….

[reignpage]

❀ In which husband!Nanami is reminded of a letter his younger self wrote...about you

“Ken,” you yell out in a sing-songy voice. “Come over here, oh great husband of mine.”

Light footfalls pitter patter down the hallway. Soon, the owner of said feet appears in the doorway, half-dressed, glasses foggy and hair still damp. Of course, you prefer him in a towel or nothing at all but that hardly matters right now. 

At the present moment, there’s something wonderful, life-changing, and perfectly entertaining making you smile ear to ear; you appear as a clown-like villain, no doubt. That doesn’t deter him, however – likely very used to your uninhibited excitement by now. Still, he does approach with a cautious look about him. Experienced sorcerer that he is, Kento eyes the room, scanning it up and down, corner to corner, and once more, whether for a threat or for a trap you’ve set for him, none can tell. Though, it’s probably all the same to him. 

“Something wrong, darling?”

Your grin widens. “On the contrary, Kento Bento…something’s very very right.”

When you flash the letter you hold in your hand in front of him, his small smile drops. The yellowed thing is snatched from your grip at lightning speed, crumpled in a tight fist, veins popping dangerously. He purses his lips and furrows his brows, jaw clenching, and, ever so faintly, pink dusts the surface of his pretty cheeks. 

As expected.

Slowly, like he’s unsure of what to say and how to proceed, he asks, “W-where -ahem- where did you get this?”

Ooh, his voice is all deep and gravelly. He's either very mad or very horny. Hard to tell. No, wait. Yep, no boner. Okay. Tread carefully, you warn yourself.

“Oh, just a fairy godmother passing by, wanted to give me something to play with for the weekend, I suppose,” you reply, making a show of checking your nails and yawning. Kento curses a certain white-haired man’s name under his breath before he sits on the bed, knees weak, you can only guess. He doesn’t put up a fight when you creep into his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, like clockwork. Strong hands steady you by your hip, moving instinctively. “Wanna explain yourself, Kennypie?”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to recognise the letter as quickly as he did. It was instantaneous, as was the rapid swipe of his defensive hand, the wind generated tickling your skin in a blink of an eye. And how the scheming fairy godmother had it, you might never know. In fact, when you asked, he just booped your nose and skipped down the hallway even though you both knew he could teleport. 

That was how he appeared in front of your house door in the first place. 

Sighing, Kento kneads your thigh and hides his face in the crook of your neck, stubble gone. “I already told you about my feelings, honey. You know how I felt about you in our school days. None of it was a secret. Not anymore.”

If someone had told you, at that tender age, that the brooding, anti-social blond in the corner of the classroom would be your husband in the future, you would have believed them; Kento had always been a great man, and whilst a lot about him has changed over the years, consequence of a life destined for sacrifice and danger, that will never. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t realise seeing just a glimpse of me ‘threatened the foundations’ of your beliefs. Nor did I know a day without me was ‘torture wrapped in bliss.’ I mean, bliss? Really, Ken? The torture bit I liked but then you kinda bummed me out very soon after.”

He groans. “I can only guess that my younger self, needlessly angsty as he was, was referring to the taxing effort to, I don't know, pretend to be cool and calm and collected around you. It was hard to know where the lines were, what the right thing to say and do was. It was all so new to me. Surely, you understand that I was a nervous wreck around you.”

That much, you knew. How could you not?

Kento would often opt to give you one syllable answers when you said something to him or ignore you, plain and simple. The young man never smiled at your jokes, didn’t accept offers for free food or to walk together after school. For a long time, you thought he hated you.

It was Haibara, sweet, selfless Haibara, who kindly let you in on the secret: your future husband actually held you in high regards.

Nodding, you run a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. He groans, this time for a different reason. “I get it, hon. You already know I liked you too and didn’t say anything either, so I can’t really fault you for choosing to write down all these big feelings in a letter instead of telling me.”

“Then, are we done? Can we pretend this never happened and you never read the contents of this damned letter?”

You kiss him on the forehead. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re going to go through it line by line. I want a detailed explanation for every single thought. Let’s call it a ‘catching up’ of some sorts.”

“Must we?” He asks, eyes flitting to the abandoned, crumpled letter on the floor. “It’s a shame it’ll be difficult to read now. Sorry, sweetheart. Alright, would you like your feet massaged or are we in the mood for a movie before bed?”

Mentally rolling your eyes, you think, nice try, Ken.

Laughing, you shove him back, bouncing on the mattress with him. Hair all mussed up and glasses askew, you fill his vision and say, “Actually, Nanami 'The World Disappears When I smell Her Addictive Scent' Kento, we won’t need the letter at all; I remember every thing."

He gulps.

"Like, line number thirty five: ‘If God truly existed, he would deign to send a butterfly fluttering by my head so that she, beautiful angel that she is, will have a reason to even look my way.’ And a personal favourite, line sixty four: ‘Would she hate me if she knew the things I think of at night, when the ache to touch, taste, and hear all that she can give becomes overwhe–”

“T-that’s enough. Please, my love. Spare me. Have mercy on your poor husband. I can’t stand to listen to a single word that pathetic idiot felt so inclined to write down like a coward.”

Unamused by his self-deprecating nonsense, you smack his chest and then peck the skin. “Hey! That ‘pathetic idiot’ is my husband. Even if his hair was all funny and silly, you be nice to him. He's a precious, sensitive soul.”

His lips purse.  “Yes, dear.”

"Say it."

Kento groans, again, and attempts to shake you off. His wife doesn’t budge and the poor man is left with nothing to do but attempt to regain control instead. So, he growls, "I said, that's enough."

"Kento."

Defeated.

Slain.

"…I'm a precious, sensitive soul."

Humiliated.

You giggle. "Good boy. Now, there was a smudge around paragraph twenty two. Did it say 'I dream of her far too often' or 'I cream for her far too often?' 'Cause personally, I hope it's the latter."

[monstersholygrail]

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper who’s been in the game for a long time. He’s used to the stares and the wandering touches of his clients. Every situation you can possibly think of is one he’s been through. It’s why he’s the best, after all. Known mostly for his ethereal grace, otherworldly beauty, and the charm he gives off with ease whenever on the stage.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper has clients who come to him from all over the world, offering more money than one can ever dream of. And he takes it without any regret. Though he never feels anything for them. He doesn’t feel much these days, in fact. Having grown bored and exhausted by the business. Until he meets you.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper is immediately interested in you as you walk into the gentleman club, an innocent thing as you opt to be a waitress instead of dancer. Thinking that’ll stop customers from grabbing at what they think belongs to them.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper is suddenly overcome with a pierce protectiveness as you prance over to him and introduce yourself. Your wide naive smile and pretty doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly. He wants to shield you from the darkness of this business, to keep that adorable innocence on your face.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper quickly builds a deep bond with you that turns into something more. The others in the club eye you with envy and curiosity, having no idea why the most famous stripper in the city has taken such an interest in you.

He couldn’t explain it even if they thought to ask. He was drawn to you, craved your presence and the kindness you showed him in every interaction. The need for it only got worse the longer you were around.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper began feeling you up more than any of the customers ever dared to. Whenever you got within reach his tentacles were already spreading out and dragging you against his broad chest. His tentacle arms caressed your plush body and latched on, ensuring you couldn’t escape while others slid into places they definitely shouldn’t be.

But they just couldn’t help but seek out your warmth as they dipped into your cute shorts to tease your hot dripping cunt or slid up your shirt to tease at your hard nipples.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper would watch you when he couldn’t be touching you. Even as he worked and danced gracefully in the tank he did his performances in, when he was meant to be seducing the audience, all he could do was watch you.

And if someone’s touch lingered a little too long or a bit too far, he’d stop the show immediately to go drag you away backstage, claiming he needed your help when really he just needed to replace their touch with his. And he wasn’t satisfied until he had you riding his cock, forcing orgasm after orgasm from you both. Only when your scent was completely mixed with his own could he manage to let you go back out there.

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper has been devoid of emotion for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle the feral jealousy raging inside of him at the sight of you flirting with a customer. The electricity buzzing inside of him crackles, threatening everyone around him. Everyone except you.

He pawns off the customer on another dancer and corners you against the wall, asking you what you think you’re doing. You tell him you’re only flirting for extra tips and he scoffs. “You don’t need tips, you don’t need money. Everything I have is all yours, everything I am is only yours.”

Jellyfish Hybrid Stripper who’s actually considering retirement. Now that he finally has something to live for all he wants to do is spend his days fucking you for pleasure instead of doing it for business. He wants to have all the time in the world to fill you with his tentacles, sending teasing jolts of electricity through your body till you’re gushing out your release all over his satin sheets.

And in the rare moments he doesn’t plan on stuffing you full and fucking you dumb on his cock, he plans to simply enjoy your presence. His only goal now is to experience all the mundane moments of life right by your side.

[readwritealldayallnight]

It’s been months since Simon has been home

All he wants is to see you, his sweet girl, so much so that he loses track of what the actual date on the calendar is, in favour of counting down the days, hours, and minutes until you’re in his arms again

That’s why Simon’s surprise when he walks in to the local shops is genuine, before quickly turning into annoyance, when he notices that almost all the shelves are stocked with things for Valentine’s Day

Bright red, pink, and purple gifts covered in glitter and sparkles, sequins and jewels, all of them screaming out one word, over and over and over again for shoppers to see

Love

It’s a word Simon tries not to think about too often, in spite of it being part of his daily vocabulary

Yes, while your hunk of a man’s favourite pet name for you has always been love, it’s a word he has yet to say to you outside of being anything more than a name, a word he has yet to say he feels for you, even though his heart spells it out with ease each time he is with you

It’s hard for him because he can remember exactly the last time he told someone that three word sentence

Christmas Eve, a lifetime ago, he’d just gotten off the phone with his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, hearing the young boy shout out into the receiver that he loved his uncle Si, a light hearted chuckle slipping past the Lieutenants lips before he’d replied back without issue that he loved him too, before he hung up and never heard his family’s voices ever again

He wants to say it to you because it’s true

He does love you more than anything, but he just can’t bring himself to say it

Those memories have become so tangled up in trauma, his mind associating darker times with those three goddamn words, the ones he knows would mean so much for you to hear he just can’t bring himself to speak aloud

He has dreams where he forces himself to say it, where he tells you a thousand times over that he loves you, whispers it in your ear, shouts it from the rooftops, writes it down everywhere for you to see and even etches it into his flesh with a needle and ink, until the dreams become nightmares and he’s yelling those words at your bloody corpse, writing it in the snow dusting your tombstone, waking up in a cold sweat, dreading the day you say those three words to him and he can’t explain why he can’t say them back

And while he can’t yet explain to you all of the demons that continue to call his skull their home, he finds himself not needing to, not with you

With you, there is no pressure to say things that cause him more pain than joy, there is no need to explain things that he struggles to fully comprehend himself, there is no need to perform or act in any way that isn’t true to him, not with you, his sweet girl who somehow understands him more than he feels he understands himself most days

Instead, with you, he gets to say things that are his own version of I love you, no matter how grand or small:

“I see you”

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had”

“I can’t believe I get to call you mine”

“You make me so happy”

“Let me carry that for you”

“Put your seatbelt on”

“I made dinner”

“I’ll do the dishes, you go sit”

When the 14th of February eventually rolls around, you aren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary, never having acknowledged the upcoming gimmick of a holiday with Simon

Which is why you’re so surprised when you wake up to find the spot next to you in bed empty, noises in the kitchen letting you know Simon hasn’t gone far

Bare feet slowly padding towards the sounds of a grand breakfast being prepared with much frustration from a seasoned soldier who struggles to use seasoning, you can’t help the overwhelming grin that takes over you face when you see nothing more than a simple card standing up on the dining table, no bells or whistles, no flower petals thrown all over the flat, no orchestra serenading you awake, just you and Simon, all you need, all you want

Reading the card stretches your smile further than you thought possible, quickly sneaking up on your love to wrap your arms around him from behind, his own matching smile etched upon his face as he scrambles up the eggs, imagining you enjoyed the card, which reads in his scratchy handwriting:

“ I ♥️ you ”

[gamerphobe]

op turned off reblogs so the correction i made cant be reblogged, so im making a new post, mostly just repeating what i said. tl;dr:

google docs is not randomly deleting peoples work for being nsfw. there is no evidence at all that you are at risk of having google delete your fics for having "inappropriate" content.

this article by the wired is the only "source" op has ever provided. i would very very much recommend both reading the entire article and looking at the linked posts in it for yourself. it is also self-admittedly the only source they've ever found - so keep that in mind. it's about k. renee, an open door romance novelist who had her work restricted by google. "open door romance" refers to works where sex scenes happen on screens and are described in detail. they are explicit works. the article talks about similar things happening to a few different authors who write in the same genre.

the incidents described in this article happened in march 2024, which is over a year ago.

those affected had their works restricted, with a warning message. they were not abruptly deleted out of no where. authors were able to file appeals with google to recover their docs, though i havent found any updates on if they were successful in doing so.

the reason this happened is because google docs incorrectly flagged the shared documents as spam.

That author later posted a video to Instagram explaining that it wasn’t the adult content in the files but rather “Google thought I was spamming people.” Apparently, sending the same doc to scores of people—for example, alpha and beta readers—can make it appear as though the doc was unsolicited.

sharing a document that contains "adult content" with a lot of people will trigger google's automod, but the adult content itself is not the problem. if you are sharing a doc with a handful of people, or arent sharing it at all, this is not going to happen. from my own personal testimony, i have dozens and dozens of explicit, nsfw work in my google docs that ive shared with people, and none of them have been touched. i have not seen a single claim with proof that anyone's work has been deleted in the manner the original op describes.

there is no source at all for original op's claim that google is "using AI to find inappropriate and problematic content". in the above article (again, the only source), ai is mentioned once, to say that k. renee had ai functions turned off and did not think that was the problem.

Renee hadn’t turned on any of the AI functions in Google Workspace, so she doubted it could be chalked up to a bot banning her books. After all, a 2016 paper coauthored by Google researchers revealed that its recurrent neural network language models had been fed thousands of romances. If for some reason a bot was crawling her work, wouldn’t it recognize what it was looking at?

and, lets just think logically for a moment. if google docs was doing some sort of mass cleans of nsfw content using ai, dont you think it would be a more widespread story? would it be this hard to find sources and testimony about it? google docs has literally millions of users, including published authors and scientists and academics. if an ai bot was crawling works and deleting any it deemed nsfw, it would be mainstream news because it would be affecting countless people. and especially without disclosing a change in policy beforehand? they would probably get sued for it!

i am not making this post in defense of google, god forbid. google is open about the fact that they use any "publicly available" information to train their ai models (and did get sued for it), though they claim that they dont take from docs that they dont have permission to. i honestly, genuinely, cannot tell you the veracity of these claims or how serious the scraping is. like, i just do not know if google scrapes from private gdocs. if someone knows more and has better sources they are free to add on to the post.

but i want it to be clear that google docs is not going to randomly delete your works for having nsfw content. docs and pages disappear sometimes because google docs is a mess. you should always back up your files locally (switching to programs like ellipsus doesnt make your work safer, per se, as ellipsus is still cloud-based), and you should consider switching away from google docs if youre staunchly anti-ai, but they are not going to abruptly explode all your fics. that is simply not happening. you do not have to panic.

[flwrkissed]

Rumors Are True - P.S

genre: smut

pairings: virgin nerd!seonghwa x fem!reader

synopsis: after hearing what people always say about nerds your get a bit curious, they always say nerds have big dicks and they fuck you good and rough from the academic stress...but it's that really true?

word count: 1.6k (wish I could've made it longer but meh)

warnings: big dick mentions, oral (m), nipple sucking, clit rubbing, kissing ofc, unprotected sex (don't do it please!), creampie...lmk if I missed any

my library!

You were supposed to be studying.

That was the whole point of today—meeting up with Seonghwa in the quiet corner of the campus library, spreading your notebooks across the desk between you, and drilling each other on derivatives and integrals before midterms fried your brains.

But the longer you sat across from him, the harder it got to concentrate.

And not because the material was hard—no, you were more than capable of focusing on vector fields and partial derivatives on a regular day. Hell, not even because Seonghwa was explaining anything wrong. If anything, he was painfully good at it. Always precise, always gentle, patient with every formula like it was a fragile thing in his hands.

No… it was because of how pretty he looked while talking about calculus like it was goddamn poetry.

His plush lips moved slowly around every term, like he tasted them before he spoke. His voice was soft but rich, laced with the quiet nervousness of someone who was both unsure and endlessly competent. He tapped his pen against the desk every few seconds while he thought—tap, tap, pause, soft breath through his nose—and it made your mind spin.

And today? Today he’d pushed the sleeves of his oversized beige sweater up to his elbows, revealing his pale forearms, long and elegant and lined with faint veins that flexed every time he moved his fingers.

You’d almost drooled.

The thick-rimmed round glasses perched on his nose weren’t helping. Nor were the jeans—fitted, faded just enough—that clung to his thighs like they were molded for them. His hair was perfectly tousled, tucked back behind his ears on one side, exposing the curve of his jaw and the gentle flutter of his lashes as he looked down to scribble notes.

The rumors were getting to you.

Nerds are hung. Nerds fuck hard. Nerds are all pent-up tension and overstimulation and animalistic thrusts behind closed doors.

And Seonghwa… Seonghwa, who was shy, who always got the highest scores, who blushed when you complimented him, who was probably a virgin and the sweetest boy you’d ever met?

You had to know.

Your voice broke the silence, laced with curiosity and teasing affection. “Seonghwa?”

He looked up quickly, blinking, his glasses slipping just slightly down his nose. “Yeah?”

You leaned your cheek against your hand, tilting your head. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

His pen stilled in his grip.

You watched the subtle twitch in his throat as he swallowed, nervousness blooming across his face. “No,” he said quietly.

Your lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile. “Have you ever wanted to?”

His brows knit in the middle, confusion flickering across his features. “W-Why?”

You leaned across the desk just slightly, voice dropping into something silkier. “Because I want to kiss you.”

He looked like his entire brain had short-circuited. His ears went bright red first, and you heard the way his breath hitched—caught somewhere between disbelief and wild hope. His body shifted minutely in his chair, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You… do?”

You nodded, standing up with calm, slow intention and circling the desk. His eyes followed you the whole way, dazed, until you stood between his knees.

“Can I?” you asked softly.

He gave a tiny, trembling nod, breath escaping him like he was exhaling a prayer. “Please.”

You straddled his lap without waiting, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks, the warmth of his skin spreading through your fingers.

The first kiss was tentative, a gentle press of lips that had no idea how electric they could be. He tasted faintly of spearmint gum and something warm—maybe cinnamon, maybe vanilla—and the way he kissed was how he did everything: cautious, intentional, like he was learning you.

And when your tongue slipped past his lips to tease at his, he moaned.

A soft, breathless sound, half-drowned in the kiss but unmistakably desperate. His hips jerked beneath you, entirely involuntary, and the hard bulge pressing against your core made your breath stutter.

You rolled your hips instinctively, dragging yourself across the hardness in his jeans, and Seonghwa gasped into your mouth.

“Oh,” he whimpered. “W-Wait—”

You stilled instantly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

His hands shot up in protest, fingers brushing your waist like he didn’t want you to move an inch. “No! No, I just—I’ve never done this. With anyone.”

You blinked, lips parting. “You’re a virgin?”

He nodded, cheeks a furious red, eyes fluttering down like he was ashamed.

All you could do was smile.

“Can I show you what it feels like?”

His breath caught audibly. “You’d do that for me?”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. “Baby,” you whispered, “I’ve been thinking about what’s under those jeans for weeks. Let me find out if the rumors are true.”

You felt him twitch beneath you, his cock pulsing under the denim, and suddenly his hands were gripping your thighs, nodding like he couldn’t say yes fast enough.

—

You undressed him with reverence.

He deserved it—every second of soft touches and slow kisses, every whispered word of reassurance. His fingers trembled when he helped peel off his sweater, and you kissed your way up his chest as he struggled to breathe.

His skin was unreal—pale, smooth, dotted with beauty marks and freckles that you worshiped with your lips. Lean muscle traced his torso, subtle ridges of abs flexing as your nails dragged down his stomach, teasing, until you reached the waistband of his jeans.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked again, voice barely a breath.

“No,” he whispered. “Please don’t.”

You undid his jeans with deliberate slowness, kissed along the skin just above the waistband—and then pulled his boxers down.

Your jaw dropped.

Because the rumors were true.

His cock sprang free, flushed red and already leaking, slapping up against his stomach with an audible thud. Thick. Long. Girthy enough to make your mouth go dry, with a pretty pink tip that looked nearly angry with need. A subtle upward curve that made your pussy clench in anticipation.

Your fingers wrapped around it almost instinctively.

“You’re huge,” you whispered, honestly stunned. “Is that why you’re always so tense?”

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered, voice pitching high. “I’ve never…”

“You ever jerk off?”

His face burned crimson. “Sometimes. But it—it doesn’t feel this good already.”

You smiled and kissed the inside of his thigh. “Then let me ruin you a little.”

You licked a stripe up the length of his cock, and Seonghwa choked on air. His hips bucked violently, fingers digging into the edge of the desk, knuckles going white.

When you took him fully in your mouth, slow and messy, he whimpered.

A high, airy sound that cracked in the middle, his body arching like he was being electrocuted.

“I-I can’t,” he gasped. “I’m gonna—!”

You pulled off with a wet pop, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. “Not yet,” you cooed. “Wanna feel you inside me first.”

“W-Wait—really?”

“Unless you want me to stop?”

He looked at you like you’d just threatened to end his whole existence. “No! No, I want—fuck, I want you so bad.”

You tugged your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, climbing back into his lap.

His eyes widened, locking onto your chest like he was witnessing divinity.

“Can I… can I touch?”

You guided his trembling hands to your breasts, let him explore the softness with awe on his face. When you rolled your hips over his cock again, he let out a moan that sounded downright addicted.

“I think I’m addicted,” he murmured.

You cradled the back of his head and guided his mouth down to your nipple. He sucked gently at first, then groaned against your skin when you whimpered, clearly encouraged.

You rubbed the head of his cock between your soaked folds, coating him with your arousal, and he shuddered violently.

“Please,” he whispered. “I don’t know how long I’ll last, but please let me feel you…”

You lined him up, teased the head against your entrance—and slowly, carefully, sank down.

The stretch was intense.

Your breath caught. “Shit,” you gasped. “So big—fuck, Seonghwa—”

He was panting, forehead pressed against yours, his body visibly shaking. “Y-You’re so warm. I can’t think—I—I can’t—”

You kissed him quiet, holding his face in your hands.

You stayed seated fully on him, walls fluttering around his cock, both of you shaking from the intensity.

“Stay still,” you whispered. “Just for a second. Let’s breathe.”

He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, and you felt every twitch, every attempt to behave.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered.

That’s when he snapped.

His hands clutched your hips, and he thrust up hard.

You screamed.

“S-Seonghwa!”

“I’m sorry—I can’t—I can’t stop—!”

He fucked into you with desperate strength, like something primal had been unlocked. His hips pounded upward, the desk squeaking under you both, the sound of skin slapping and moans echoing through the room.

“You feel so good,” he whined. “I wanna stay inside you forever—oh my god—”

You clung to him, legs trembling, walls clenching uncontrollably.

“You’re gonna make me cum already,” you gasped.

His thumb found your clit, and he rubbed it fast and sloppy, his mouth pressed to your throat.

“Cum for me,” he begged. “Wanna feel you fall apart on my cock.”

You came with a scream, orgasm crashing over you so hard you saw stars.

And he followed—crying out, thrusting deep, his release hot and endless, flooding your cunt with thick spurts of cum as he collapsed against you.

But he wasn’t done.

He stayed inside you, trembling, breath shaky, until he pulled back just enough to kiss you.

“Can we do it again?” he whispered.

You blinked. “Already?”

“I don’t think I’m done,” he said, voice shaking with want. “I want to see how many times I can make you cum.”

And from the look in his eyes… you knew he meant it.

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[redrage71890]

Backing Voice (Yan! KPDH x Fem! MC) Part 4

Synopsis: Sorting out ways to help Rumi's voice one day leads to the discovery of an emerging demon boy band. Their song hypnotic as they hastily gain fans all around. HUNTR/X being less than happy with the results.

Genres: Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Yandere

CW: None

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Word Count: 3.6k A/N: Hi I took a break and might have forgotten a few plot points whilst forgetting to write them down before hand :D

————————————————————

"Girls! *huff* I'm sorry I'm late! I got caught up with someone..."

Bursting through the door of the empty restaurant (Y/N) apologises first without thinking. Seeing the three girls at a small table as they long forget their food.

Zoey and Mira gleams seeing the (f/c)nette, though Rumi looks more surprised. "(Y/N)! You made it." Zoey waves at her as the manager awkwardly waves back, taking a seat in between Mira and Rumi.

"Again, I'm sorry..."

"Hey. Its alright. We haven't really started eating anyway."

"No. Its not only that. What happened during rehearsals, I didn't mean to sound mean o-or dismissive of you girls. Its just stress for me. But! I p-promise I'll be better and I'll be there to back you girls up no matter what."

(Y/N) puts on a confident smile for the girls, a fluttering sensation flowing through their hearts at the rare sight. Zoey breaks the silence by giggling at the feeling in her chest. (Y/N) not particular sure why the black-nette started giggling but joined her nonetheless.

"But. Back to before." Cutting off their giggles with a more serious expression. "I'll be honest here, its going to be hard to reschedule the live show because of the sudden cancellation."

"We got that impression from Bobby earlier..." Mira states.

"I...I'm sorry guys. My voice, its in trouble."

'Trouble? That's new.'

"Wait, in trouble? Then why did you push up the 'Golden' release?"

"Because we're so close, and its so important." Rumi states. But her tone and words made (Y/N) curiously think more.

'So close?'

"Okay, how do we handle this? What do we tell the fans? Maybe we should call Celine?"

"I don't advice that. We know what she'd say."

"Oh, right."

"We are hunters. Voices strong. Your faults and fears must never be seen."

Zoey and Mira reciting what their predecessor echoed at them. (Y/N) furrowed her brows at the phrase.

Her and her mother were never one to follow that motto. Mother in particular despising it. It being forced upon her as she tried to hide all her faults to the point of breakdowns and frustration. It always made her searing patterns appear.

"Rumi, why don't we take a break? We'll skip the Idol Awards this year and-"

"No. No way. Its our most important show. Its when we strengthen the honmoon for the entire year. We can't skip it. We just can't. Not when I'm so close."

‘Close to what? You’re not telling us something Rumi. Though….isn’t that ironic…’

What’s (Y/N) to say about secrets when she herself hasn’t been completely honest. But when has anyone ever been completely transparent. It’s not like every secret needs to be spilled just because someone wants to know. We have a right to keep things to ourselves.

Though in this case, Rumi’s secret might become a massive headache for them.

”Hey, we’ll get through this. We can get through anything. Together.” Zoey’s encouragement bringing on a slightly more relaxed expression on Rumi.

”Okay. We have two weeks to fix Rumi’s voice. Any ideas?”

”I do have one idea.”

”Just one?”

“Shoot, Zoey.”

”Okay, actually, 57, but let’s start with my favourite. Don’t worry. It’s totally legit.”

Shrugging her shoulders and leaning on her elbow against the table, (Y/N) watches the girls listen to Zoey explaining some of her ideas.

She won’t outright say it in the moment, but some of these ideas boarded along the lines of obvious scams and false promises. As much as Zoey at times annoyed (Y/N), she didn’t have the heart to tell her the likely truths.

“(Y/N), why aren’t you eating? We ordered plenty for you.” Zoey questions their manager. “O-Oh, right. Sorry I’ve been a bit lost in thought recently.” Brushing off their stares she picks up her utensils and began digging into her food.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Mira asks with a more worried frown. Zoey and Rumi holding similar expressions with more concern.

Seeing as she can’t get herself out of this conversation, she just sighed and stopped eating. “(Sigh) I’m not getting away from this, am I?” Averting her gaze up to meet the three sets of eyes on her. “Okay then. I….had another….one of my episodes. Right when Rumi left rehearsals...”

Uttering those words, the hunters all clung to her body in a tight yet comforting hug. It’s not been the first time this happened. Well. More like the third time this happened.

The first time was after their debut, a quite public breakdown occurred back stage. It was embarrassing to be seen by the staff. Her mother was the one that told the girls of her anxiety attacks.

The second was right before the tour started. The sheer amount of organising, meetings and calls she did was breaking her mind out of pure exhaustion. The girls found her hyperventilating in the bathroom on the dirty tiles with her attempted eyeliner dripping down her face.

And now, marks the third time.

Well, they technically weren’t there for this one.

A private meltdown with no one to hear or comfort her.

"Never apologise for experiencing that. We should be sorry for not being there for you." Mira gently pats her (f/c) hair.

"Please don't be afraid to come for us! We will always be there for you!" Zoey cries out clinging to her back.

"Yes, (Y/N). Let us know if anything troubles you. We'll do anything to help in anyway!" Rumi adds hugging her side.

The three hunters felt guilty for there actions. Not being there for (Y/N) hurt them. They hate seeing her so stressed. The girls really wish their lovely manager would confined in them more.

Unfortunately though, their said manager just really needed a breath of fresh air that's currently being crushed out of her lungs.

"G-Guys....y-you can let go n-now..."

————————————————————

After a big hugging session putting the four of them to sleep, the girls dressed in their best disguises and went out in the streets of Seoul. (Y/N) was glad she managed to sleep for a whole night for once. But she still wished she slept in her own bed and not on the couch with the girls.

Donning her classic baggy attire but with a cap obscuring her eyes. Ignoring the face mask as she got the feeling it wasn't necessary. Though she also remembered Jinu and his buddies putting on a show today. Just before leaving she stuffed the flyer in her pockets as a reminder.

But as of now, she follows the girls to make sure this guy Zoey recommends doesn't do anything.

Though hearing what Zoey is saying makes her want to divert them away as fast as possible.

"He's got this special tonic. Apparently, it can heal anything from sore throats to relationship problems."

'Oh you don't say!'

"Ssh! Quietly, Zoey."

"Why are there so many people today?"

(Y/N) noted how populated the area is at the moment. Of course the girls are worried about being seen and finding their disguises online. Our girl especially would rather not be seen on any post.

"Down that alleyway."

Diverging their path from the busy streets, they stood at the foot of an old hanok building refurnished to a clinic with an LED sign with the name 'Han 의원'.

'Yeah... this seems totally legit...'

"Yep, about as legit as I expected."

"Glad to know I'm not the only one thinking that." Mira smiles her way unknowingly.

"Earth and herby. Smells legit to me."

"Yay! That's the spirit! 가자 가자 가자!"

"Hurry, before someone sees us."

Entering the building the girls are greeted with the appearance of a usual doctors front desk/office. Though catching the eyes of our manager and Rumi was a wall lined with numerous signed framed pictures of the doctor and what appears to be celebrities. Seemingly other idols.

Though one picture caught her eye.

A group of four boys giving each other a back hug whilst leaning on the others shoulders, with the doctor strangely at one side gesturing to them. Those faces were oddly familiar.

Dragging her out of her head was the sound of the doctor entering. Standing up to bow and greet the doctor as he urges them to sit.

"You need no introduction. So, a problem with your voice."

"Yes. So we need one of your awesome tonics. Something that will work super fast."

"Okay, let me see."

(Y/N) automatically knew they guy ain't legit. Not bothering to do a proper examination of her throat and instead just staring at her with bulged out eyes.

"I see. I see.... No. Actually, I don't see. Very strange. You have lots of walls up."

"Whoa! He's so good, right?"

"I dunno about that Zoey..." Muttering to herself while messaging her temples.

Rumi scoffs at the comment but Mira quickly affirms that she indeed, does. Denial is not exactly on her side today.

"I'm just trying to stay focused."

"Focus is good, but focusing on one part leads to ignoring other parts, making you separated, isolated."

Her brows raised at the observation. Her own experience agrees with the statement. Mira and Zoey quickly agreeing with the doctor and stating their own views of the sometimes emotionally closed off workaholic known as Rumi. Their leader.

'This does not feel like a doctors appointment. If anything, its just a guy stating out obvious traits and iss-'

"Quiet, yet vocal. A mind racing with thoughts unheard. Silenced by those around, only eager for something else."

She didn't realise the doctor was pointedly staring at her.

"W-What?"

"Yeah, what are saying to our dear manager!" Zoey exclaims clinging onto her side.

"Z-Zoey. Its fine. P-Please let go." She asks of the eager girl, the said giving her some sparkly puppy eyes before letting go.

"How does this help me get my voice back?"

"As I said, to treat the part, we must understand the whole."

"(Groan) That's great, but I thought we were here just for your tonics."

"Just give us the voice juice."

————————————————————

Whilst the girls were waiting for the tonics, (Y/N) decided to wait outside for them. She trusts them enough to get the tonics, as much as she isn't fond of them.

That picture on the wall seemed oddly familiar.

'Where have I seen those boys from...'

With her time as a manager for HUNTR/X, she's seen and met a fair share of trainees and idols. Perhaps that is why they seemed familiar. But even then, nothing noteworthy comes up when she saw their faces. Man she wishes she could remember where she saw these guys.

Shaking her head to try and ward off these strangely curious thoughts.

'This shouldn't be occupying my brain as much as it should. I should be thinking about another song to sing for tomorrow night, I have another pacifying to d-'

"Oof!"

"Sorry, are you alright?"

So caught up in her mind that she ended up wandering out of the alleyway. Clashing bodies with a strong built guy and falling to her knees by accident.

"Y-Yeah, I'm f-fin- Oh. You're the guys I saw with Jinu last night." Meeting the familiar short pink haired friend of Jinu. The said male had his eyes widen slightly before turning down back to normal. A glint of mischief in his eyes with a thought.

"We never fully introduced ourselves, I'm called Abby." Bowing his head slightly as a greeting whilst helping her up.

"I'm Romance, Jinu mentioned me last time we saw each other." The longer pink haired male comes up from behind and leans on Abby's shoulder.

"I remember that."

"The one pouting behind me is our maknae, Baby Saja. And the last with the long fringe is Mystery." The mentioned maknae side-eyed Romance from his confirmed pouting face.

(Y/N) felt a chin resting on her shoulder, feeling the fluffy silver grey hair of Mystery tickling her face and neck. His close contact sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. Glancing her gaze down slightly, she can see the slight run-through of purple patterns across his exposed face, a quick reminder on what they are really.

Moving her shoulders up forces Mystery off with a sad pout on his face from the action.

"Well, its nice to meet you guys. Aren't you performing today?" She questions with a shiver to her body, still uncomfortable with Mystery's strange 'greeting' to her.

"Why yes, we are. Are you sticking around to watch us?" Romance asks with a flirtatious wink.

(Y/N) already decided she was going to watch them, purely to see what kind of concept her and HUNTR/X are working against. Though the pastel clothing was enough to tell her. Now its a matter of curiosity.

Shrugging her shoulders while stuffing her hands in her pockets. "I don't see why not. I'm actually also waiting for some friends, so I may as well kill some time."

"I'm so glad to hear that!"

Turning up her attention she sees Jinu pushing past the other boys (who don't look that happy with the action), an excited expression etching onto his face upon seeing her. His presence calming her shivers ever so slightly.

"I'm gonna assume you were organising your stage Jinu?" Crossing her arms and putting on a more professional tone. She may consider Jinu a new friend, but that doesn't mean he's off the hook as a demon yet.

His reason for being on the surface is enough to raise suspicion.

"Your powers would be of great use, considering you guys don't seem to have a manager in sight. (muttering) Even I don't think a company is willing to sign you and debut you the same year, let alone week." Her muttering went under their ears, replaced with shocked expressions to hear that she knows of their faces behind the disguises.

Jinu awkwardly chuckles, sort of amused by her bluntness, but is still heavily questioning how she knows this. "(chuckle) You have no fear in what we are, do you?" Leaning closer to her ear, his voice sending another nervous shiver through her body.

Taking a short breath in before leaning closer to his ear. "Why would I fear someone who doesn't hold such malice in his eyes."

The male had a thrilling shiver go up his spine. Not only from the proximity, but the words from her quiet melodic voice.

"I only see shame and guilt."

————————————————————

"WHERE DID (Y/N) GO?!"

"I DON'T KNOW?!"

The three girls were panicking upon coming out of the clinic, their box of tonics in hand. They were cheering about helping Rumi's voice, but stopped when they couldn't find their dear manager.

"Did anyone find where she went?"

"No?! We were inside for honmoon's sake!"

"Oh no! She might have been taken by demons! No she must be so lonely and-"

"What is going on?!"

Swerving their head around, they see (Y/N) with a confused face seeing their panicked state.

"My god...I thought you guys found a dead body or something. There is no need to yell for me, you don't want to be attracting ANY attention. Right?"

Her firm strict tone being a quick reminder of what role (Y/N) has played ever since their debut. A more strict version of Bobby with her hands in the creative process. Even when she wasn't fully comfortable with the girls yet, she still managed to steer them in the right direction when avoiding scandals and demos for songs.

"Y-Yeah...sorry (N/n)." Zoey frowns apologetically.

Sighing to herself like her mother usually does when she breaks a vase.

"You guys are the ones that said you wanted to stay out of sight." Her muttering causes guilty expressions to pull on the girls. "Don't worry about that now. I should be sorry as well, considering I just walked away without an explanation." Forgiving the girls for this is easier than letting it drag on more.

Rumi and Mira were about to provide an explanation for their panic, but their ears were picking up the faint sound of an instrumental beginning to play in the background.

"Wait. What is that?"

Rumi's question urges the girls to pop their heads out of the alleyway. Only to see a strange pink smoke beginning to form near the centre of the busy area. The backing instruments sounding positive and bubbly as it went on.

Adjusting their disguises, they make their way towards the commotion.

"Hey, hey"

"Hey, hey"

"Hey"

Five silhouettes can be made out in the smoke, all striking poses before the pink suddenly disappears to reveal the performers.

"Don't want you, need you"

"Yeah, I need you to fill me up"

"Masigo masyeo bwado"

"Seonge chaji ana"

"Got a feeling that, oh, yeah (Yeah)"

"You could be everything that"

"That I need (Need), taste so sweet (Sweet)"

"Every sip makes me want more, yeah"

"Its those stupid jerks again!" Rumi exclaims. "Wait. You know those guys?" (Y/N)'s confusion evident but is ignored by the sheer number of people gathering around.

"These guys are a boy band?" Another question Rumi exclaims. Irritation growing in her more.

"Lookin like snacks 'cause you got it like that (Woo)"

"Take a big bite, want another bite, yeah"

"Neoui modeun geol nan wonhae, wonhae, wonhae"

"Neo malgon modu pyeonhae, pyeonhae, pyeonhae"

"Whеn you're in my arms, I hold you so tight (So tight)"

"Can't let go, no, no, not tonight"

"That jerk stole one of my pouches!" Recounting her tonics upon seeing Jinu drinking one.

(Y/N) deciding to question later why Jinu decided to intentionally or not, magically send back an ahjumma with a hip thrust.

"Jigeum dangjang nal bwa sigan еopjana"

"Neon naekkeoya imi algo itjana"

"'Cause I need you to need me"

"I'm empty, you feed me so refreshing"

'A drop?'

"My little soda pop"

"You're all I can think of"

"Every drop I drink up"

"You're my soda pop"

"My little soda pop"

"Cool me down, you're so hot"

"Pour me up, I won't stop"

"You're my soda pop"

"My little soda pop"

The chorus infectiously going around the crowd with shoulder movements galore. Bopping their bodies to the earworm worthy song. Not even Zoey or (Y/N) were immune to the rhythm.

As much as Rumi and Mira glare for them to stop, their bodies couldn't deny the contagious beat.

"It is annoyingly catchy, though."

"Its infectious."

Romance and Baby Saja sending out kisses of hearts into the ground, physically knocking out those hit.

"They can make hearts out of thin air?" Mira's questions go unanswered, but (Y/N) can think of ways to reply.

But reflecting in the sunlight, catching the hunters eyes, was the faint purple patterns running through their arms and the hint of gold in their dreamy irises.

"(Gasp) They're demons!"

"Magicians! Demons. Obviously demons."

"My little soda pop"

"Uh, make me wanna flip the top"

"Han mogeume you hit the spot"

"Every little drip and drop, fizz and pop, ah"

"Soreum doda it's gettin' hot"

"Yes, I'm sippin' when it's drippin' now"

"It's done? I need a second round"

"And pour a lot and don't you stop"

"'Til my soda pop fizzles out"

"Dang they're good."

"Incredible. But a demon boy band? Why?"

"I don't care. A demon's a demon. We kill them." Rumi and (Y/N) stops Mira before anything can happen.

"No, its too public."

"Do you want everyone to grill us into being cancelled?"

"What if they try to kill these people?" Mira's reasoning is valid from her perspective. But everything around them says otherwise.

"It doesn't look like they're gonna hurt anyone." Zoey's observation being noted by (Y/N), seeing as the five boys helping out a few people struggling with little things.

"Kkum soge geuryeowatdeon neo"

"Nan jeoldae nochil su eopseo"

"Neol wonhae kkok"

"I waited so long for a taste of soda"

"So, the wait is over, baby"

"Come and fill me up"

"Just can't get enough"

"Oh"

"In fact, it almost seems like they're nice demons?"

"Demons are never nice!"

Seeing the girls rush over to destroy the very things the demons touched. Panic washing over with her usual professionalism masking it. Purchasing another hotdog for the girl with the right amount of sauce and giving the children smaller gifts in replacement for the destroyed ones, giving them all a soft smile in comfort.

'Think before you act, girls.'

"You're all I can think of"

"Every drop I drink up"

"You're my soda pop"

"My little soda pop (Yeah, yeah)"

"Cool me down, you're so hot"

"Pour me up, I won't stop (Oh, oh)"

"You're my soda pop"

"My little soda pop"

The sudden appearance of a stage large soba can was a choice, in (Y/N)'s opinion. But the wave of pastels and illusionary magic is what set her off.

Pushing her way through the crowd to catch up with the girls, she found her way near the front.

'I see what's going on...'

"Ooh, ooh"

"Ooh, ooh"

"You're my soda pop"

"Gotta drink every drop"

Striking their ending poses, Jinu looks down at the crowd, meeting the (f/c) and gold gaze with his brown ones. Smiling softly at her before diverting his attention.

"That's it for now. See you tonight on everyone's favourite variety show. Saja Boys love you!"

The demon boy band disappearing in a puff of smoke.

The three hunters grew more irritated at the easy work the demons have accomplished by just performing once! Determined to end this boy band as fast as possible.

(Y/N) on the other hand had other thoughts.

'Well then, if you want to play like this Jinu, I hope you know what's coming for you.'

*Ding*

Her phone vibrated with the indication of a text message. Opening up her messages to see the new text, reading made a small sigh release from her mouth.

Jinu: Hey (Y/N), lets meet up tonight. I'll meet you at the place we met.

————————————————————

Edit: I took a break and I managed to fall down into my Record of Ragnarok phase again whilst also watching the new Superman movie (really good I recommend). Also if anyone wants to be tagged, pls ask in the recent parts bc it just makes the list a lot easier to find and compile.

Tags: @kitsune-05, @the-bookish-artist, @apelepikozume, @shoopershtar, @ravvilicous, @valeriele3, @vikc, @lasa27, @chipster-321, @greensunflowerjuna, @napbatata, @that-one-girl2020, @tagmepls, @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant, @minepugs, @crescent-z, @colorfulgardenerduck, @poem-bee, @deityofprocastinating, @0-undead-0, @gremlinartstudio, @jessica-mcd, @strayharmony943, @fruityg0rl, @cherryblossomfox, @aominehaven, @kyxmlii, @ssaischilling, @sweaterkitty-fluff, @historygeekqueen, @satansdaughter123, @theall-seeingone, @nvmkyuu, @amenabii, @julianne1024, @doggyteam2028, @nisarelle, @theall-seeingone, @hi-itsmee28, @celesteelysia, @maritheillusion, @levifiance, @kangsae-byeokfan, @hornehlittleweeblet12, @scara-simp69, @fancyhawk45, @shqyou, @enerofairy, @futuristicdefendorfart, @scentwombatarcade, @eliengoddes, @irethepotato, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @jessica-mcd, @koda-lupinn, @yoursleeparalysisdem0n, @tsukimoon-chan, @ityourguy, @elaemae, @neverending-animelove, @type-ink, @pandafuriousa60, @mazzk1ng, @theall-seeingone, @rorotvt2025

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 25th. tom ��� anal sex / sexual punishment.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: basically how i see a tom riddle punishment playing out. biblical tom of sorts. so self assured its impossible to piss him off so you go to lengths some may consider extreme but…eh. he knows you’re his.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, UNI hogwarts (obvs but just a reminder) reader and tom have an…interesting dynamic, toxic but also not toxic because it works for them, anal sex (obvs), sexual punishment, brief fingering, copious amounts of dirty talk, i once again utilize my favourite place in the school (the library).

"Tom—"

With a hand raised, he cuts you off. "Don't."

You blink. Swallow. Blink again. He's mad—oh, yes, he's mad—more than you've ever seen him and you once watched Abraxas Malfoy knock over his potion during a heavily-weighted exam.

That, in currency to this, is pennies.

You breathe in, try again. "Look, I can explain—"

He doesn't let you. Within a second his wand is out and with a flick of his wrist the room shifts to static—the glimmer from the silencing charm he just cast settles over your corner of the library, and you feel your fingers go numb—

"Why'd you stop?" He cocks his head, brow raised. His jaw is tight, the tension there burning into the space between you. His fingers flex. You can feel how much he's holding back. "If there's an explanation, by all means. I'd love to hear it."

Right—yeah, an explanation. That should help. Certainly, the man staring at you like he has bullets for eyes and knives for fingers will understand—he'll be completely calm once you explain to him you kissed someone else in retribution—because you wanted to get back at him.

"Well, I—" you push up from the desk, desperate to feel bigger, to level with him somehow. Tom thrives in this—having the upper hand, knowing all he has to do is stare at you, all stillness and quiet fury. He knows you hate it, that you'll spiral under it until you break and present him your neck on a silver platter. Until you hand him the knife and beg him to cut. "We had that argument, and I thought—I thought, maybe—you didn't—"

He moves closer. The air thickens. You're too focused on the fire in his eyes to acknowledge the sound of his wand clattering onto the desk—

"You thought?" His voice is something almost bored, like this is a trivial exercise for him—you can barely hear him over the roar of your pulse in your throat.

"—that you didn't want me anymore!"

You force the words out in a desperate rush, and the silence that follows feels like a goddamn canyon—you're just staring at each other, scowling in the wake of what you just said because you both know how utterly foolish it sounds. The only person Tom Riddle has and will ever allow himself to be vulnerable in front of—and you thought he'd leave after a silly argument.

No. You never thought that for a second.

And so, you try to save yourself. "Tom—I-I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry, I know I fucked up—but, it's not just me—I mean, you could have communicated better—"

He takes another step toward you, nodding along as if he's humoring you. "Right."

You step back—you don't mean to but the depleted space between you feels dangerous and your body reacts before you can stop it.

"Maybe—maybe we can learn from this? Right? A lesson for—for us both?" You keep talking. You don't know why, but you do. "And, maybe you could, uh, learn to talk about your feelings better?"

You wince as his eyebrows shoot up, mocking you without saying a word. Tom Riddle, talking about his fucking feelings? Right.

"I mean—you're just—" you hesitate because you know you're digging your own grave, yet he's still staring, daring you to finish. "—you're just so hard to read, you know?"

Another bored nod, another step closer. "Of course."

You swallow, stumbling back—of course Tom knows he's hard to read, that's the point. Every word out of your mouth is a wasted effort, a desperate attempt to reason with someone who's beyond it. Your ass collides with the desk behind you, boxing you in—and suddenly, he's there, right in front of you, all of his typical Tom intensity pouring into the limited space between you.

His breath brushes against your cheek, close enough that his lips could meet yours. But you know they won't. He'd never make it that easy. You can't tell if it's fear or something more wicked that twists in your chest. Dread, excitement—God, maybe both—

"You tried to provoke me."

Your throat tightens around a swallow. He isn’t asking.

"Maybe."

He doesn't blink. "You tried to see if I'd care."

You open your mouth, only to close it just as quickly. What can you say that he doesn't already know? You're as transparent as glass to him, and even that is a goddamn understatement. All you offer is a slow nod, unsure but weighted—he wasn't looking for an answer, he was looking for submission.

"And you thought, maybe, that I would come to you. That I would react. That l'd be angry." His fingers brush up your cheek, slipping into your hair with the kind of intimacy that feels out of place given the circumstances. And, inevitably, when the pull comes biting at your scalp, it's a burn you enjoy more than you should. "Were you hoping I'd punish you?"

"Well—I-"

"You know, don't you," he tugs your hair again to quiet you. Every question he's asking is rhetorical. "You know that trying to provoke me is dangerous."

You nod, fast. "I know."

"You know that I don't like to be provoked."

"I know, I know, I-"

"Shh." His lips brush over your neck, just once—a soft, fleeting thing that promises everything and nothing at once. You can't help the way you lean into him. "You're just making this worse for yourself. No more talking."

You choke on your stupid ego, but force a nod. You asked for this. You won't fight him on it. Not here. Not now.

"Good." He hums, and you feel your heart dance, stomach leap at the barest flicker of approval in his tone. His breath skates over your jaw, and you try not to shake. "You want to show me how sorry you are, don't you?"

You nod again.

"Good." He tugs at your bottom lip and something curls at the corners of his own that doesn't quite qualify as a smile. "Turn around."

With your heart on the floor beneath your feet, you nod for a final time before doing as he asked. You find that turning is a difficult task, though not due to resistance—your body just won't cooperate—a mess of weak knees and shallow breaths and tingling skin. You do it, though, with his hand on your hip, guiding you, directing you, pushing you over the desk until you're bent at the waist, positioned just how he wants.

It's merely a moment before you feel him pressed against your back, feel his belt buckle digging into your ass—

"What do you think I should do to you?" His breath grazes the nape of your neck and reflexively, you arch into him—his hands slide up your thighs, hips, finding your waist and the band of your skirt—he tugs at your zipper, you remain quiet. You know he doesn't want you to answer. "I'm sure you had your hopes. Your assumptions."

Tom Riddle, you've determined, is a torturous lover—a slow hand, a tease until you're in tears from the overstimulation. A sort of devotee to fulfilling your needs while simultaneously tempering his own. He's so very restrained, in everything he does—not fervent, not right away, anyway—

"Maybe you hoped I'd degrade you. Remind you of your place." He tugs down the zipper, letting the fabric fall to the ground at your feet—you shudder and pull your lips tight, willing yourself to stay silent as the cool air hits you. Tom's hand roams over one of your asscheeks, pawing lazily before tapping his palm against it. “Maybe you wanted me to make you feel it."

—he only rushes—he's only careless when he's angry.

And god, he's angry now.

"Maybe." You force the reply through the sting he left on your skin. It's past midnight—quiet is everything but you two, and you're almost certain he locked the door behind him on the way in. You let your head bow, eyes fixed on the wood under your palms. "Maybe I do."

"Of course you do. You've never been subtle." His foot nudges yours further apart, his fingers trailing up your thigh, finding the damp ache between your legs. Your breath catches but you hold still, biting your tongue as he teases—digits gliding through your slit, swirling your clit. "I know you thought about it."

"About what?" You try, though the question barely gets out before his other hand smacks the thick of your ass again, harder this time. "Shit—"

"About what I'd do to you." The hand on your clit shifts to smooth over the sting, rubbing slow, while the other works the buckle of his belt. "Tell me what you wanted."

"I—" you pause, steadying, gathering yourself. You know you have to give him something, but it's hard to think when he's like this. "I—I wanted you to be...careless."

"Careless." He says it like he's savouring it, rolling it over his tongue like candy. It's not a word that suits him; you're not convinced he even knows how. "You want me to be rough—to be selfish. Like you were."

The moment his belt is loose you feel those slender fingers dip back into your slit, two of them pushing inside your cunt without warning, stretching you open as his trousers slip down his thighs— he grunts low, a sound that cuts into the quiet as his cock springs free and he presses it against you, unoccupied hand slipping back into your hair, pulling you up until you're flush with him.

"Yes." You're not sure who sounds more hollow for it—your voice for asking, his for granting it. "I want that. I deserve it. Please. Please—"

"Please. It's always please with you," he mocks, the words a hiss that burn your cheeks. "Yet, I don't get to be selfish like you, do I? I still have to show restraint."

"I mean—oh—fu—" you choke as his lips find your neck, muttering something against your skin before you feel the sudden cool slip of a lubing charm coating your asshole and cunt. "Tom-"

"Despite what you might believe, I've never had much in the way of patience," he breathes, a confession almost, something deeper—something that feels like it costs him. "Not when it comes to you."

"Tom—" you fucking gasp his name as he pulls his fingers from your cunt—only to drag them higher until they find your asshole. Despite his haste he's still at ease, massaging, pressing one finger against it until you let him in. He sinks slowly, curling slightly, and your thighs shake—lungs deflate. "Oh—oh, fuck, Tom—it's been—"

"A while, hasn't it?" He finishes, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear, his finger sliding all the way in. "So tight for me. So—tight—"

"Tom—" a repetition of the last one, his name spilling from you like it’s the only goddamn word you know how to say. "Please, Tom. Oh god—"

"Shhh." He shushes, but it's not to quiet you; you know that. He's savouring this. He slips in a second finger, stretching you wider, working you open, and you're biting your lip to keep from crying out. "This isn't about you."

"You—" your voice breaks on another gasp, hands clutching at the desk. "—you think this is punishment."

"Partially." His muses as his fingers scissor, filling you with the most delicious ache. You're so slick, arousal running down your thighs, and that—oh no, that does not escape his notice. "Look at you, dripping for me. And yet,"

"Oh god." The realization crashes over you—it’s punishment as in orgasm denial. "That's—that's not—"

"Not fair?" There's a smirk in his voice, and though he doesn't say it, you hear the word that lingers beneath it: pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. He pulls his fingers out and you whine, feeling empty for half a second before the head of his cock glides against your slit, gathering your juices before finding its way up to the throbbing ring of muscle. "Isn't this what you wanted? For me to be selfish?"

"I just—" words scatter, useless, because you're trembling, breathing hard, and then he's pressing in, slow enough to save you pain but fevered enough to make you feel him. "Oh—oh—"

"Oh fuck." He says it breathless, as if it's an agony to fit himself inside of you. "Oh yes."

And it is an agony—for both of you, though for very different reasons. Tom is huge, and even on a good day, it's a struggle to take him. He's so deep, filling you in ways you'd forgot were possible. You struggle to hold yourself upright—legs visibly shaking, teeth gritting. He sinks all the way in, and in your mind, you can almost see the look on his face, the way his lashes flutter, the way his head tips back—

"Ah—“ he groans, a rough sound that's followed by a huff and a slight roll of his hips, like he's holding back, like he can't bring himself to move just yet. He yanks you up against him by your hair. "That's fucking tight, isn't it? This must be hell for you."

He's not wrong, it is. But it's hellish for Tom too, the type of hell the two of you inflict on eachother that is as fucking addicting as it is anything else—

"Just—" you manage to bite out breathlessly, but it's a struggle to make the words. "Move—"

"Make me," he grits, jerking your head to the side until your foreheads press together. "Convince me to use you. Tell me how badly you want it. How much of a whore you are for it."

Merlin help you, you moan at his words. It's that thing inside you—the needy, desperate part that's dying at his feet. You don't know what it is or why it's there; it just is, and it's greedy. It's not something you'd give into normally—your ego is far too big to give him the satisfaction of begging, not aloud—never in words that he could use against you later—but in these moments, you both learn to make exceptions.

"Dear god, Tom—please, just use me-" you push your hips back against him, one of his hands slide up your stomach, cupping your tits. "Please, l'm—I'm a pathetic, begging whore for you. God, I know you're pissed—I feel it—just take it out on me—l want it—"

He moans—a soft, almost gentle sound—and you know you've struck a nerve, the part of him that's equally as weak in the moment—the part of him that makes it all too easy for things to spiral like this.

"Goddamn you." Something inside him snaps, something that's been frayed, just waiting for a pull—and you've pulled it now, and oh you want, no, you need him to make you pay for it, to make it hurt. "You just—you always-"

He grunts, cutting himself off and in a way, it's almost like he's thanking you because you're giving him an outlet, something to take it out on. You test each other, push and pull and let the other break, because, at the end of the day, it always comes down to this. The two of you. Like this.

A sharp inhale, and he starts to thrust.

"Fuck!" it's all you manage, it's all you can manage, because it—just like that—feels the way you wanted it to feel but it also feels so much more intense, so intense that your brain can't keep up. "Oh god—oh fuck-"

"Fucking hell," he spits, like you're the worst thing in his world and the best thing all at once, and somehow, that makes perfect sense. He lets go of your hair, and you slump forward onto the desk, elbows barely holding you up as his hand smacks your ass, fingers spreading you apart. "So—so tight—“

You're a shuddering mess, helpless to it; all you can do is remember to breathe through it.

"That's it." Another smack to your ass, thrusts quick and deep. "Fuck. The things you drive me to do."

You know him so well—and he knows you just as damn well, and that's the point, isn't it? That's what this is all about. You're the perfect mix of wrong, a match that burns too hot it hurts but the ache makes him feel alive.

"I want to cum—" your neglected clit is begging for it, you’re fucking begging for it. "Tom please—"

At that, he laughs and it's mean and it's condescending and you love—God—how you love it and want it and can't get enough of it. His hips snap forward a little bit rougher and you lose a bit more of your sanity—

"You think you deserve to come, after what you did?" Another smack to your ass.

You don't know how to answer, and he doesn't wait for one anyway. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you—everything is so calculated and calculated and calculated. You've never once seen him falter, and you don't expect to see it now. You don't know if you'd survive it if you did.

"No." He answers for you. "You don't."

His fingers trace around your thigh, grazing your mound and finding your needy clit, your sopping slit, gliding through it—you moan louder than you should as he gathers your slick on his fingers, humming at what he finds there before retreating—bringing them up to your mouth.

"Open."

You open your mouth and he feeds you your need—the result of his selfishness. You love him for what he is and you love him for what he isn’t too. How he tries to be both, only when you ask.

"Taste that?" It's a whisper, something he's telling you.

You sob around his fingers as he fucks your ass deep—he pulls them out to let you respond. You nod. "Yes."

"Taste how much you want this?"

"Yes." A pathetic moan. The perfect response.

"Good girl." He presses the words into your hair, the back of your neck, along your spine. He sucks in a breath as he fucks like he needs it just to speak. "You're going to remember this the next time you think about doing something just to spite me, I hope you know that."

Of course you will. He knows it, you know it—there's no doubt in your mind that you'll remember this the next time you toy with his patience; the next time you give him a reason to discipline you again. And what's worse is: you'll do it anyway.

It's a battle you two will fight for eternity.

But you don't get a chance to respond, not that you'd have one anyways—because his hand is on your throat and his lips are at your ear and he's sucking in air through his teeth and then—

"I'm going to cum." He whispers and you hear the pain in it. "Fuck."

You shiver in reply; a whine of a whimper coming from the back of your throat. “Tom—“

"Shh." He shushes you with his free hand, gripping your jaw as his thrusts turn sloppy, erratic. "Fucking take it.”

God—you’ll take it. Of course you will. You asked for this, drove him to this point. You're both sick, but this is the kind that doesn't have a cure.

One of his hands moves to his own hair, tugging at the back of his head; it's the only hint you've had this whole time of how much he's affected by this, how much it's driven him mad. He's doing his best to keep control, to maintain composure and make sure you feel it—but it's the way his hand squeezes your hip when he lets go of your throat that gives him away.

It gives in to what he's been repressing.

"Ohhh—fuck—yes—" and then you feel it, feel him, hot and sticky and warm, filling your ass and holding you there until he’s finished. His body collapses against the back of yours, hips slow rolling until he's drained—until you’ve taken all of him, all of his anger and frustration and restraint along with it. He’s sweaty, exhausted, spent—forehead pressed to your hair. "You feel that?"

"You know I do." You're not allowed to sound so smug, not while you're in the position you're in, but you are. It’s why he loves you. "That's what you were looking for."

"No, that's what you were looking for." He nips your ear, and you hear the smile in his voice when he bites down on it and murmurs a, "and that's why you're my favourite," into it.

"And you mine, Tommy."

[wernerherzogs]

some of my fave buddie fics for anon in no particular order! please mind all the ratings, tags, and warnings of these works while browsing:

plot-focused:

about the present series by Amiril

The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.

boys, when my baby found me by nondz (pinkjook)

Three months later, things are mostly back to normal.

And then there's an accident.

the city is a jungle and i’m a beast by putanauhere (TRUST ME.)

“There are no wolves in Southern California,” Buck states, another bit of trivia. He just doesn’t know it’s a lie.

The Things All Come and Gone by moodlighting

“I didn’t—it’s not that I couldn’t be alone,” Buck explained, pausing to find the right words. “I just. Wanted to be here.”

I Broke What You Gave Me, But You Kept Giving More by rcdwings

Evan Buckley wakes up without eight years of his memories with some guy named Eddie Diaz on his bedside. Which could mean nothing.

lonely little love dog by littleghost

When the 118 is closed for reconstruction after an earthquake, Buck is a floater for different stations around the city. He tries not to let it get to him. Much.

kerosene by mandolare

He doesn’t— need more of Eddie. This is enough. This is plenty. This is more than anyone else has of him; he can deal with the marrow-deep want that’s begun to choke him every once in a while.

all my little words by youbetsya

Eddie: Did you just send me an email??

Buck: yeah lol

Eddie: Why…

I dont think you’ve ever emailed me actual words before. Just stuff to print when your printer is broken

Buck: did you read it?

Eddie: Not yet

Too busy trying to figure out why the fuck you’re emailing me

Buck: just read it dude 🙄

instructions on not giving up by Wildehack (tyleet)

Eddie gave up in July.

Live and (Don't) Let Die by xylodemon

The guy gets straight to the point, asking, "What do you need?" in a dull, bored voice.

"My best friend is going to die. I want that to… not happen."

"No small feat, bringing back the dead. And it comes at a cost."

It's Eddie. Buck says, "Yes," without a second thought.

good pretender by likeshipsonthesea

“Okay, but what are the rules?”

Ravi stares. “The rules for…?”

“Casual sex.”

Ravi continues to stare. It is 5:39 in the morning.

i can tell just what you want (you don't want to be alone) by Talls

In which Eddie keeps secrets and Buck is incredibly normal and rational and even brave about his reaction to this.

here’s my hand, there’s the itch by signetsealed

"I wasn’t kidding when I said I could talk about Chris all night,” Eddie says. His voice is quiet and close in Buck’s ear. “But that’s not why I called.”

been lost for a while by trysetmeonfire

Eddie's wife has been dead for two weeks. There's a firefighter in bed five. These are not necessarily related facts, but Eddie will have a hard time separating them out, later.

Downward Facing Doggy Style by Survivah

Eddie and Buck pick up a new hobby while Chris is in Texas.

slaughterhouse by kithmet

Eddie announces he’s leaving. Buck, naturally, begins a slow descent to madness.

Choosing Joy 'Verse series by ithilien22

In which Eddie mends fences with Chris, starts something new with Buck, and navigates the complex emotions he has around his parents.

 the sweetest apparition by hyruling

Eddie moves to Texas. Buck keeps accidentally telling people Eddie's dead. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

pluperfect by unreckless

Buck is always good for a ride to the airport. He’s good at lots of things, like being a good friend and goodbyes.

beating the horse by doitgently

Eddie is moving to Texas. Buck finally figures out what he wants.

Burn a bridge, learn how to swim series by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves)

In which there is some unexpected making out, some pining, one third of an existential crisis and a lot of unhelpful advice. Not necessarily in that order.

you drew stars around my scars by ladieslunching

Someone at the 118 doesn't know how to leave Buck's clipboard alone. Buck would be a lot more upset about it if it didn't bag him the love of his life.

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind.

ripples all the way down by iriswests

This is the tumultuous road to finding out what Buck truly wants, paved by pebbles.

throw a bone, i’m finally home by fleetinghearts

“Oh, Buck,” Eddie says softly, torn between unbearable fondness and an ache that threatens to crack his breastbone.

when everything's on fire by beartowns

Eddie and Chris move in with Buck after a fire. Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, buys a house with Eddie, and realizes he's in love. In precisely that order.

ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies

The problem is—well.

Actually, backtrack for a sec. There were a few problems.

Eddie’s got a whole lot of them, lately, and maybe that was The Problem.

Something in the Air (Is Giving Me Bad Ideas) by paramountie

After Christopher comes back from Texas, Eddie makes an important decision: he is not going to blow up his life anymore.

crossed the muddy line by Anonymous

Eddie Diaz is from El Paso, Texas; a fact which accounts for both more and less than he ever expected it to.

the tortured poets department by colonoscopys

The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up.

still by brewrosemilk

For the first time, Buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. Dirt to dig at. A door to break through. Something. There’s nothing.

somewhere to stand and stay by teaspoon

“What are you doing right now?” Eddie asks. He sounds distracted; Buck can tell immediately that he’s driving.

authentication by v_greyson (greyson)

"Yeah, Eddie picks the guys so I don't make stupid decisions," Buck says, flicking through menus to pick a new racetrack.

The combination of Hen munching peanuts and looking back and forth between them makes Eddie feel like he's a zoo exhibit. Best Friends, captured in the wild, still feral, exhibiting behaviors heretofore unknown to science.

"Well, good luck with - all that," Hen says pointedly to Eddie. She is definitely not talking about the video game.

keeping score by arcanaphora

After getting dumped, Buck is left with two tickets to a weeklong cruise. Eddie steps in to support a friend in need, but complications arise when his friend becomes his fake husband. All's fair in love, war, and trivia.

if i said you could never touch me by marviless*

Eddie pulls back from him with a half-confused, half-concerned furrow in between his eyebrows. “Buck?”

Buck sags against the wall. “Sorry,” he says, wiping the back of his forearm against his forehead in a mixture of frustration and newfound exhaustion. “Sorry.”

Counting Pulses by tinyydancerr*

Eddie Diaz’s life is going great. He’s in therapy, he’s got a great girlfriend, a great kid, his friend is getting married to the woman of his dreams, and his best friend just came out to him.

Now his best friend is dating their new friend.

Things are going great. He promises.

porn-heavy (only a few of these are straight up pwp though):

Feel You Forever by semperama

“Is this…” Eddie meets his eyes again. “Is this new?”

a mess of my creation by Anonymous

They’re in the fucking bunk room. There’s someone snoring in the bed over by the bathroom, a good twenty feet and two beds away, and Buck doesn’t know if it’s Hen or Chimney or Bobby, but they’re in here, they’re asleep, and this is awful, this is so fucking unprofessional and if they get caught they are going straight to HR.

blood in the highs and count the stars by seachanged

“Go on,” Eddie says, nosing into the soft spot under Buck’s jaw.

Buck laughs, a little hysterically. ”You’re not serious.”

look straight ahead if you like it slow by hattalove

“This gets you going, huh?” Eddie grins, propping himself up on his elbows so he can move higher on the bed, reach the pretty pink bow of Buck’s mouth. “Devotion? You being it for me?” He stretches up toward Buck’s ear, whispers: “Monogamy?”

hang me up on your bedroom wall by eddiegettingshot

“You’re going to be a great father someday,” Eddie says eventually, because he’s worse than he used to be and Buck’s reverent eyes make him feel—they just make him feel.

“Eddie, I—”

“You are,” he repeats, firm. “Don’t you think I’d know better than anyone?

buck and eddie's red hot infidelity summer series by cranberrymoons

He’s not thinking about it. He’s not. He’s definitely not.

the moon like a spotlight by dykeries

Three months after Eddie moves to El Paso, Buck comes to visit.

this ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living by glorious_spoon

"You guess," Eddie repeats under his breath, but he sounds amused. He sets the boxes down and kicks the door shut behind him to wind through the chaos of Buck's half packed away kitchen. "You're insane."

love's not a game by thatbuddie (talktothesky)

“So that goal, huh?”

Buck groans, his hands clawing at the sheets beneath him as his toes curl up, the fire that’s been building up inside him for what feels like hours sizzling and uncontrollable in its path through Buck’s body.

i might kiss you on the back of your neck (because it’s christmas time) by sibylsleaves

Five Times Captain Diaz and Recruit Lieutenant Diaz fail to sleep together and one time they do.

would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses? by brattybuckley

Evan Buckley is currently on cloud nine. 

Well–

Honey on the Vine by sirencalls

Buck wakes up to an Eddie with stubble for the first time in months and refuses to let a good opportunity to go waste.

lock me down tonight by lecornergirl

Buck tells everyone Eddie talks him into it, but when it comes to Eddie, he’s never needed much convincing.

Mind Blowing Mess by EtoileGarden

"I’d like to have a threesome. I think.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah,” Taylor eyed him for a moment, and then leaned a little further over the table, her chin in her hand. “Have you ever had one before?”

songs and poems and promises by lesbianrobin

“It’s crazy how different sex is with men,” Buck says, and everyone around him groans.

rodeo queen by okanus

“What’s the saying again? Save a horse…hm, y’know, I don't quite remember the rest of it.” Eddie can’t help the smile curving up the corner of his mouth.

“You’re an asshole,” Buck says, scowling. The tips of his ears are pink.

yes god don't speak by detectivemeer

“You’re staring.”

“What.” Eddie says. “No I’m not.” 

[lace-coffin]

Hi! Can I ask how the slashers would feel if they ever accidentally hurt their s/o? Gender and everything is up to you!

How slashers would react to Accidently hurting their S/O

Thank you so much for my first ever request ah! I hope you enjoy 💖

Requests are open!

Warning for blood/injury - mild sexual content/reference to sexual activity and power dynamics -unhealthy relationships (I think?)

Reader is gender neutral!

Bubba sawyer

Most likely happened via Bubba playing too hard and Accidently pushing you over or being a bit too heavy handed with you. If it’s a case of them mistaking you for a victim and catching you with their chainsaw before being able to stop then they’ll be even more in inconsolable : (

Stops and stares for a minute to process what’s happened before devolving into full blown panic.

She’ll drop whatever she’s doing to carry you back to the house, even if that means letting the victim escape and having Drayton yell at her.

Will hurriedly explain in rushed sign to either Choptop or Nubbins to go take care of the victim as he’s busy caring for you.

Checks you over frantically. Please explain you’re going to be ok and help them calm down.

Once he knows you’re not in any danger he’ll feel absolutely awful about it and whine apologies to you even if you tell him that it’s ok and it wasn’t their fault.

Please comfort them once you feel better and reassure them.

Will insist you come up with a verbal and nonverbal sign to give if they’re accidently messing around to hard.

Will make you agree to stay in the house out of the way when victims are around so you don’t Accidently get hurt again.

Thomas Hewitt

After another night of Hoyt berating him for things out of his control, Tommy storms off to the basement to cool off. You follow after him, intending to comfort and wanting to help. You place a hand on his shoulder without thinking, forgetting he doesn’t enjoy physical touch without warning, thinking it might help. Whipping around he grabs your wrist a little too hard, causing you to wince.

He snatches his hand back as soon as he realises what he’s done.

Tommy will bring you to Luda may to have her check you over and assess the damage.

Once he knows you’re safe he’ll confine himself to the basement for a few days, only coming out to eat but even then it’s tense.

He’s truly sorry and feels like all those people who called him a monster and an animal were right, he hurt the one he cares about most, after all.

After a few days apart, a lot of hushed words of affirmation and kisses/nose bumps he’ll feel comfortable being with you again.

You know to let him cool off by himself and come to you when he’s ready after a heated argument now.

Michale Myers

You jump out at Michael thinking it would be funny to catch the shape off guard for once and not the other way around. Unfortunately this backfires and he swings his knife at you, thinking it may be an intruder since you’ve never pulled something like this before, You manage to jolt out of the way but the knife still catches you in the shoulder. Thankfully, it’s only superficial and will heal, but it still looks like it needs medical attention.

Initially Michael looks at you unamused, granted it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling underneath the mask. He gives you a kind of “well If you weren’t being dumb this wouldn’t have happened” attitude. However this is a front for the actual panic he refuses to show on the surface.

Having a few cuts and scratches isn’t super uncommon when your with Michael considering his tastes involving knives in bed ; )

Usually hurting others comes naturally and without remorse to Michael, so it shakes him to his core that he’s actively worrying about your wellbeing instead of feeling the usual indifference.

It disturbs him that he actually cares about someone enough to feel remorse for his actions.

After unceremoniously pulling your shirt off and looking the wound over he forces you go to A&E, practically marching your ass out the door.

Since he’s basically an escaped criminal he can’t exactly casually walk in the hospital with you, however he will stalk you the entire time, lurking close by to make sure you arrive and leave safely.

Although he usually has his guard up he vows to try be a little less bristly with you from now on if it means he doesn’t have to see you hurt and feel that awful tug of regret/worry in his chest.

Jason voorhees

You went out looking for Jason one night after he hadn’t returned to the cabin by his usual time. You were worried he’d been overpowered by a group of trespassers or caught in a trap and didn’t have any way to communicate that to you. The woods were beautiful but so dense and vast, getting lost or injured in the thick of them may as well be a death sentence.

Whilst searching for your missing partner you get your leg snagged in a bear trap he had set out previously for the trespassers. You howl in pain as you hear the sickening snap of your ankle between the traps jaws.

Jason was trudging his way back to the cabin when he heard it. Knowing that wasn’t a rougue teen as he’d cleared them out already, alarm bells went off in his head. He stormed to scene as fast as he could.

He could have sworn his undead heart stopped for the second time as he saw you sitting there in agony, murky blood seeping into the forest floor.

He rushes to your side and looks frantically between the trap and your teary face, he knows he’s going to have to disengage the traps and for you it’s going to be..less than pleasent.

He signs for you to grip onto his arm for support. Since he’s already dead and regenerates fairly quickly he feels it’s the least he can do to let you grip his arm for dear life as he wrenches the trap from your shattered ankle. If you cause any damage to his arm (which is very unlikely) it will heal up in no time anyway.

Once he’s carried you back to the cabin he’ll be frantically following Pamela’s directions in his head for what to do and how to clean/ wrap it.

If the damage is extensive he’ll relent and let you go to the hospital, only if a trusted friend takes you though, he’ll be sitting by the window of your shared cabin every minute until you return back to him.

You’re no longer aloud to be out in the woods after dark alone if he’s set traps. You both carry whistles now so if he’s not home and you need to know he’s safe you can whistle to each other and feel more at ease.

Billy Lenz

Interacting with Billy when he’s having an episode is never a good idea. You thought it would be fine to just be in the room though, providing you stay out of his way. As you enter, Billy is in the midst of trashing his attic once again, the disgusting feelings bubbling in his chest too much to bear. You enter just as he’s angrily thrown an old glass christmas ornament at the floor that the sorority had kept in storage. It shatters and flecks of sparkling glass scatter along the floor. One piece catching you in the hand in a nasty glass splinter. You swear under your breath and rush off to take care of it.

Billy doesn’t even realise what’s happened until you return to him, him now having exhausted himself and you knowing it’s safe to try do some damage control. You bring him a sandwich and juice knowing he’ll need it after all the energy and tears he just used up.

Your hands touch as he’s accepting the plate from you with a muted “thank you” and he notices the bandage.

Billy essentially bristles up like an angry cat at the idea of someone hurting his piggy and demands to know who did it and what happened.

Once you tell him it was actually from the ornament he feels horrible. He doesn’t even remember it happening with the state he was in.

He snuggles into the crook of your neck and mumbles apologies into your skin.

Billy will place sloppy kisses over it as an apology until you forgive him. (Not exactly hygenic since it’s an open wound but i mean…you’re dating the attic rat)

Brahms Heelshire

When living with Brahms there isn’t usually much to injure yourself on considering the estate is fairly out of the way from the rest of the village. You most likely caught yourself on a pair of sheers. Brahms is being stubborn about you being out of the house and slings the sheers in your general direction from the door frame when you ask for them. You don’t even notice you sliced your hand when catching them until you see a patch of blood soaking through your gardening gloves about ten minutes later.

You come in to grab a tea towel to wrap your bleeding finger in, not really fazed as it’s only a small cut. Brahms was lurking from the window as you tended to the hedges, not wanting to be away from you but not yet brave enough to tempt leaving the house he’s been in all these years.

As soon as he sees it he’s panicking, it’s only a little cut and you’re not concerned in the slightest but to Brahms you may as well have just came in with an arm missing. He’s instantly flittering around you asking if you’re ok and if you need a hospital.

You stifle your laugh at his over the top concern, you find it rather sweet, it’s not his fault he’s a little bit sheltered.

After cleaning the cut and bandaging it, it’s totally fine. If anything Brahms needs more reassuring and coddling than you do to get him to settle.

He apologises a thousand times for his attitude because he knows If he hadn’t been stroppy about you leaving the house and passed the sheers nicely then you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. He promises to try be more composed when he starts getting antsy.

He may need some ✨punishment✨ in order to encourage his behaviour change and to feel forgiven.

He begrudgingly lets you back outside to garden after about a week.

Asa Emory

If you’re the pet of Asa then it’s likely that most of your injuries are purposefully given from him and are no mistake. You’re poked and prodded often considering your residency in the collection. Wounds from experiments and correctional punishments when you disobey or refuse to submit are not uncommon at all. So it doesn’t bother him since he inflicted them. This also assures he cleans them with clinical precision. If you were anyone else he would leave the wounds to fester, if you died from a complication then that was just inconvenient. Not you though, you’ve caught his attention and heart. He loves you in his own domineering way.

If the wound was created by him on accident then he would give himself a hard time, chastising himself for his carelessness.

For example, if he had more trouble with law enforcement than he thought and that led to you to spending way more time in the trunk than you usually do, causing you to develop a sore from sitting in one cramped position for too long.

Asa would realise you’re injured once you’re let out of the trunk, hissing in pain as you stretch. He makes you show him where you’re hurting so he can inspect over it.

Despite Asa’s stony face his stomach is actively sinking. He knows you’re hurt because of him and it wasn’t purposeful or measured like it would be during a punishment. He sees this as failure in his pet care and it takes a blow to his god complex. Gods don’t make mistakes, but here he is, hurting his dolly by being so out of it.

He’ll make sure to clean it for you and even stop putting you in the trunk for a while. This does however still mean you’ll be attached to him via leash or chain connected to the ring sitting on his belt. Just because you’re hurt and his favourite toy, doesn’t mean he will except anything less than your complete and total submission.

He’ll be more tender and soft handed with you than usual for a while after. Punishments will be withheld until you heal. Then it’s back to normal routine as expected.

Predator/yautja

You were wearing a new perfume you’d picked up at the market during the day, You were only supposed to be getting meats and maybe a new fur for the bed but once the alien at the stand had convinced you to sample it you fell in love with it.

Your mate picks up on an unknown scent entering the house, hackles raising and stalking towards it. As soon as they catch the heat signature they throw a wrist blade in warning.

Their eyes widen in horror, rushing to the door as they catch scent of your tangly blood dripping onto the hardwood floor of your shared home.

The new perfume masked your familiar scent from them, making them believe the house was in danger and being intruded on. If their face could loose colour it would, cringing as they see the wrist blade sticking through your palm, groceries discarded at the door.

They start talking at you in rapid clicks before they realise you can’t actually understand. After making sure to keep the object in your hand so you don’t bleed out and that you’re not going to pass out on them, they insist on carrying you their medic instead of going to an ooman one.

They argue that their medicine is far more advanced and will heal your wound much more efficiently then your “ primitive ooman medicine”

Thanks to yautja medicine being far more advanced, It will heal like nothing ever happened in around two weeks. The wound stitched shut and given some kind of injection.

Your mate purrs and clicks for you deep from their chest the entire time you’re having the blade removed to try calm you.

They beg for forgiveness despite it literally being an accident and will need some reassurance that they haven’t failed you as a mate. Once you’re all healed up they’ll bring back an impressive skull from a hunt as an apology even if you’ve already forgiven them.

Whilst it’s healing you’re probably going be kept in the nest of furs and pulled tightly against them whilst they purr and sooth you.

My requests are open if you’d like to send any prompts or ideas for me to write!

[acideathr]

♫ .. “ 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵… “ ★ . •° .

ılıılı men who know they're the best you'll ever have

gojo, sukuna, toji (jujutsu kaisen), aomine (kuroko no basket), kuroo (haikyuu!!), dazai (bungou stray dogs), chrollo, hisoka (hunter x hunter), hawks (my hero academia), kaeya, childe, dottore, pantalone, alhaitham, wriothesley (genshin impact)

they love making you beg. not because they’re cruel, but because it’s intoxicating to watch someone confident unravel under them - it feeds their ego in all the best (and worst) ways.

will absolutely talk you through it. “yeah? that’s it. look at you, so needy. say it again. say what you want.” and they won’t give it to you until you do - grinning while you stumble over your words.

they're experts at edging - not just you, but themselves too. they love holding back just to draw it out, to tease you with how hard they are, how much they want you, and still keep control. you coming apart while they’re still fully clothed? top-tier victory.

will pin your hands not because you struggle, but because they like knowing you can’t touch them unless they let you. the power trip is subtle, but unmistakable.

they're vocal - low groans, dirty talk, absolutely shameless praise. “you take me so well,” “you were made for this,” or worse - “look how good you are for me.” they know the effect their words have and weaponize it mercilessly.

when they’re jealous, they don’t sulk - they prove themselves. the sex turns possessive, rougher, and they're not above saying things like, “remember who owns this,” while leaving marks in places you’ll have to explain later.

post-nut clarity doesn’t exist for them - if anything, they’re more smug after. “you can barely walk, and i’m still ready for round two. what now, sweetheart?”

mirrors are their favorite tool - bending you over in front of one or making you watch while they go down on you, eyes never leaving yours. “don’t look away now. you wanted this, didn’t you?”

surprisingly obsessed with aftercare. they might be cocky and overwhelming during the act, but afterward? they’re cradling you, massaging your thighs, stroking your hair, and whispering how perfect you were - always in that same teasing tone, just softer now.

when you try to take control or tease them? they let you… at first. let you ride it out, smirk while you try your best, and then flip the dynamic without warning. “cute. but let me show you how it’s really done.”

[thatonegrimm]

Hii ! Just want to start off with how much I truly LOVE ur writing ! It’s just amazing, I was wondering what would to Saja boys reactions(separately) be to a motherly/nurturing reader ? Like babys them when they get a paper cut or holds them when they get nightmares something like that :33 [hope u have a wonderful day !! <3]

Hi! Thank you so much—that means the world to me 🥹💖 This is such a soft and lovely idea… the Saja Boys being babied by a nurturing Reader?? YES. Absolutely. Here you go! 💌

🌙Saja Boys x Nurturing!Reader

They’ve lived for centuries. Fought monsters. Been monsters. But when you kiss their scraped knuckles, wrap them in blankets, or run your fingers through their hair when they’re too tired to talk—They melt. Because for the first time in their long, cursed lives… someone sees them as soft.

----------------------

🧿 Jinu 

He didn’t even flinch when it happened.

Just stared down at the little slice along his finger — clean, shallow, already beading red.

You moved toward him automatically, tissue in one hand, mini first-aid kit in the other.

Jinu blinked at you. “It’s just a cut.”

“I know.” You took his hand gently. “But it’s your cut.”

He went still. Like the sentence short-circuited his brain.

You dabbed carefully at the wound, even though it was barely bleeding anymore. He didn’t pull away — just kept watching you with this stunned, slightly pink expression, like no one had ever done this before.

(They probably hadn’t.)

“Honestly, you’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” you murmured, reaching for a tiny bandage. “CD cases are brutal.”

He made a tiny sound — maybe a laugh, maybe disbelief — but didn’t stop you as you applied the bandage with unnecessary care.

Then, without thinking, you kissed his knuckle.

And he froze.

“I—” he whispered.

You looked up, amused. “You okay?”

He nodded, ears red. “Yes. Yes, I just—uh. Wow.”

And then sat down slowly on the floor like his knees had given out.

----------------------

💪 Abby 

You woke up to the sound of the floor creaking.

Then the quiet clatter of something falling in the kitchen.

When you walked out, you found him sitting on the floor, arms resting on his knees, face hidden in his hands.

You didn’t ask what the dream was about. He didn’t need to explain.

You just knelt behind him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest to his back. Held him like a weighted blanket. Like a constant.

“Breathe with me,” you whispered.

He did.

Slowly. Shakily. Letting your rhythm guide him.

“You’re okay. You’re safe,” you said. “I’ve got you.”

He didn’t cry. Not really.

But he reached up to grip your hand and held it like it was keeping him grounded.

“...You’re too good to me,” he murmured.

“I will mother hen you until you can function again.”

He laughed through a tired exhale. “That’s a threat.”

“It’s a promise.”

And you stayed like that — curled up on the cold tile floor — until his breathing returned to normal and his shoulders stopped trembling.

----------------------

📚 Mystery 

It started small.

You brushed crumbs off his shirt. Straightened his hoodie strings. Wiped dried ink off the side of his hand when he forgot he’d been writing with a fountain pen again.

Then one day, while you were carefully untangling his headphones, he said:

“You don’t have to do that.”

You looked up. “Do what?”

He stared at the floor. “All this… taking care of me stuff.”

You blinked. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t know how to… deserve it.”

His voice was too even. Too casual.

You gently took his hand — still ink-stained — and held it.

“You’re not a burden.”

He swallowed hard.

“You’re allowed to be cared for,” you said. “Even if it’s weird. Even if it’s new.”

He didn’t respond. But later that night, he curled up on the floor beside the couch — closer than usual. Just close enough that your blanket could cover both of you.

And he didn’t say a word when you reached over and started running your fingers through his hair.

----------------------

💋 Romance

You didn’t mean to do it.

He was sitting on the couch in full glam, looking drained but still too proud to ask for help.

So you walked over, tucked the blanket higher around his shoulders, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

He froze.

“Are you coddling me again?” he asked.

You grinned. “You want me to stop?”

He opened his mouth.

Then paused.

“…Absolutely not.”

You laughed, cupping his face in your hands.

“You’re dramatic. You pout when you’re sleepy. You get sad when your lip gloss wears off. Of course I’m going to baby you.”

He smiled — the real kind, not the flirt.

Then curled into your side like he’d been waiting all week for that exact invitation.

“I could get used to this,” he whispered.

“You already have.”

----------------------

🔥 Baby 

He’d burned his tongue on hot ramen again.

You heard the yelp from across the room.

By the time you reached him, he was glaring at the bowl like it had betrayed him.

“Don’t laugh,” he warned.

You didn’t.

You handed him a glass of cold milk and sat beside him.

He took a sip. Glared harder. “I’m not a child.”

You nodded solemnly. “Of course not.”

“You didn’t even check the temp first.”

“You never let me.”

He opened his mouth to argue, then blinked as you reached up and gently kissed the top of his head.

He went silent.

“…Okay,” he muttered. “That was nice.”

You smiled. “Want me to cut your dumplings next time?”

“…Yeah. But I’m still not a kid.”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

He didn’t argue again.

----------------------

M-List

[draftbeerbibi]

FOR ME, IT WILL ALWAYS BE YOU - Sylus x Non MC!

Summery: you find yourself in lads universe after a particularly close interaction with truck kun. How does life go from here after arriving in the N109 zone leaders backyard when MC hasn’t arrived yet?

Disclaimer, Sylus might be OOC, since i’m not very good at writing so bear with me. This will be multiple parts! Also, this was not proofread, so sorry if there are mistakes!

Masterlist

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

These past few months you had been working yourself to the absolute bone. Summer had started and the restaurant you worked at was packed every single day.

You worked hard to keep your smile on your face, but there had been an increase of the rudest people to ever grace the planet, and they all simultaneously decided to grace you with their presence.

Every single day was a battle. You didn’t feel like you fit in anymore, colleagues living their lives, while yours felt like it was stuck in place. Every day was the same shit over and over again.

And then it happened.

You were on your way home from a particularly difficult shift, anticipating flopping on the couch to unwind with some love and deepspace. A game you had been playing for over a year now, making everything doable, when out of the blue a truck slams into you at full speed.

You feel all the air get blown out of you, as bones break. You hear people screaming, yelling for an ambulance.

This is it?

After all your hard work, this is how you die?

You scoff as unconsciousness pulls at you.

You awake with a jolt. Artificial grass prickles at your skin as you take in your surroundings.

“Am i dead?” You mumble, looking around in shock. No hospital lights. No pain. No nothing. You’re about to stand up when you feel something around your waist. It tightens as it spins you around hard. A sharp hiss of pain slips out as you are turned to someone.

“Who are you, and how did you get in?” The voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you recognise it immediatly.

Sylus.

How could you not recognise him? You had spent everyday after work with him. Interacting with him in destiny cafe, praying for a day you might get to see him, even just for a second.

You stare at him blankly. How does one even explain this situation? Would he believe you? Why would he? Would you believe someone if they casually dropped that they were from a different universe?

Questions and answers course through your mind till you feel his evol tightening even more.

“I said, who are you, and how did you get in?” His voice was sharp and menacing. His eyes glowing a dark crimson, as the wind softly swayed his hair. He truly looked divine, even when shooting daggers at you with his gaze.

“I-i don’t know how i got here. One moment i was on my way home from work, and now i’m here.” You confess, fear tugging at your heartstrings. You had seen him on your phone screen countless of times, but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for how breathtaking this man was in real life.

His eyes narrowed as a mocking grin spread across his face.

“Right, i’m supposed to believe you just ‘happened’ to land in the most tightly secured backyard of the whole N109 zone.” He scoffed. His eyes roamed your body, his eyebrow slightly tilting as if contemplating. You didn’t look fit enough to pull off a stunt like this. Cuz ur not.

“Trust me, don’t you have camera’s here?” You plead, his evol still tight around your waist. You feel it prickling, almost like electricity. Uncomfortable.

He raises an eyebrow.

The twins emerge from behind him, and even with their masks on, you can feel their curiosity radiate off of every inch of them.

Without a word he steps in the house, with you still tightly bound in his evol. He gracefully steps into his office as he places you not so gently into a chair.

“I’m not really in the mood for ‘games’ right now, so i do truly hope you’re telling me the truth.” He cocks his brow at you as he settles into his chair. You can’t help but be mesmerised by the absolute power and control he radiates just from sitting down.

He knows what he’s doing. Always. Even the smallest things are thought out before they can happen. You look at his face as he checks the footage, and to his surprise which he manages to hide very quickly, you were telling the truth. One moment the backyard looks peaceful, unperturbed, and the next, you’re there. It happens in the blink of an eye. No lights, no fireworks, nothing. Just sudden existence.

He looks at you, almost through you as he contemplates.

"It seems like you were telling the truth, kitten" The way he enunciates the word kitten sends goosebumps flying over your arms. The timbre in his low voice echoes through his office. How on earth were you going to survive this?

"I told you, i mean, who would be foolish enough to break into your territory?" You all but scoff. It's true though. Breaking into his lair, which in and off itself is impossible, would be a death sentence. Sylus was soft and mellow with MC in the game, but he never extended his kindness to anyone else.

It's a war in your head. At least your innocence is proven, but what about the rest? With nowhere to stay, how were you going to convince big bad boss man to keep you alive long enough to look for a way back. Could you even go back? Are you dead in your world?

His voice snaps you out of the war going on in your head.

"Explain"

"Huh?" You look at him sheepishly.

"Explain how you ended up in my backyard. I don't sense that you have an evol, or, anything for that matter, so how on earth did you get here?" His eye softly glows in the dim office. His features sharp, as the moon accentuates every line. Divine.

"Like i said, i was on my way home from work when-" The thought of the truck stops you dead in your tracks. The feeling of your bones crushing and consiousness fading still lingering beneath your flesh.

"When i got in an 'accident', i guess." Your voice got softer with each passing word. It was hard to make sense of what was happening. Though it was a literal answered prayer to be face to face with Sylus, the circumstances were far from ideal.

"Accident?" You could hear the amusement in his tone, he was intrigued. However, the thought of going into the details made you want to throw up, so you decide to change the subject.

"Could i stay here?" You blurt out the question, wincing at the lack of thought. All you could think about was needing a place to stay, but you didn't mean to throw it out there so haphazardly.

He raises his eyebrow, a small smirk appears, so small anyone would have missed it. But not you. You have spent so much time with him, he basically felt like you knew him better then yourself.

"Hmm? Bold aren't we, kitten?" All you can do is stare at him, what else are you supposed to do? You were literally throwing yourself in the dragons lions den.

"Here's an idea, you can work for me, i'll give you a spare bedroom in the eastern wing, close to the twins. If i do manage to find anything on you though, you can count your days."

Your mouth is agape. It's that easy? Suspicion creeps up, how could it not? You knew Sylus, and you also knew you were not MC. What was in this for him? But you were bone dead tired. This whole ordeal had sucked every last ounce out of you, and against better judgement, you nod in agreement.

He smirks.

The sight of him looking all pleased sends a shiver down your spine. Excitement? Fear? Both? Who knows. All you knew, was that you were going to do everything you could to prove your worth.

~~~

Part 2!