#I didn't even notice...........................

[localvillagecryptid]

Shen Yuan transmigrates into a powerful ice demon and just goes "Oh neat! Cool clothes and I don't have to worry about dying!" And kicks his feet up to chill. He doesn't recognize his name, so he assumes he's just some terribly irrelevant mob character who happens to be rich and strong and is just glad to run around PIDW without any consequences. He manages to gather that he's some widower with a young son, so he immediately assumes he's in the clear from potentially being an enemy of Binghe's. His son is so quiet, and demons aren't great with giving names, so he doesn't even know what to call the boy at first. It feels odd to ask him what his name is. He just does his best with raising him in a way that he can only hope isn't too noticeably different than the way the original goods did it.

His son is still very quiet, but as he grows, he and Shen Yuan become closer. The little prince is such a sweet boy! He makes Shen Yuan little arts and crafts and leaves them on his desk to find. Anything from flower crowns to vaguely menacing knicknacs made of the bones of small animals. He'd be more scared if his son didn't seem so expectant of praise for the work. A few of them definitely resembled cursed idols, but who was he to judge his little demon son? There aren't any child rearing manuals, but from his own PIDW knowledge, this seemed developmentally on-track for demon kids.

But apparently the original goods wasn't rich and strong without consequence, because he's hounded with political matters before long. They're flooding his office with letters, hounding him for meetings, begging him to manage affairs in his territory. He's coming into contact with all these other powerful demons and has to pretend he's even slightly aware of what they're talking about.

During one of these meetings, some guy mentions the heavenly emperor, and Shen Yuan's like, "oh??? Binghe's here??? Already???" And he's furiously reworking his timeline, but the other demons are like, "who tf is Binghe. We're talking about Tianlang-Jun" and internally he's like, "who tf is Tianlang-Jun". Some poking around later, and he realizes he's REALLY far off from Binghes rise. Man's not even born yet. Honestly it makes him relax even more. He uses the time to get to know Tianlang-Jun a bit, just because he's so curious about Binghe's father! A full true Heavenly Demon! Not as cool as Binghe, who has both heavenly demonic and human cultivation abilities, but still cool! He's also just curious about the kind of man his blorbo's father was.

For some reason, Tianlang-Jun already has a son??? Upon closer inspection, a nephew? The conclusion, of course, is that something must've happened to both of them for them to not even be mentioned in the book. Deeply unfortunate, but not Shen Yuan's problem. Or that's what he would say, but Tianlang-Jun is seemingly very fond of him now. Something about being fellow single dads? He keeps bringing Zhuzhi-Lang around and foisting him onto Shen Yuan for a "play date" with Shen Yuan's son. Zhuzhi-Lang is a good boy, and very quiet, but he's also visibly older than Shen Yuan's son. Like, by a lot. But Shen Yuan is no expert on demonic aging rates, so maybe half snake demons just... look like grown adults? At this point, it's more like Zhuzhi-Lang is babysitting Shen Yuan's son while Tianlang-Jun fucks off somewhere without him. How irresponsible! But Shen Yuan accepts the free labor.

Years pass, his son grows- he also ends up with ice powers, as well as a spatial ability, though if Shen Yuan is correct, that power is likely from a demon tribe slightly south from their territory. It sounds familiar, but there are tons of reused abilities in PIDW. Nothing odd here! Eventually his son starts taking on jobs that Shen Yuan never asked him to do, in an effort to prove himself to Shen Yuan and also help him out. So at some point he takes it upon himself to go to take something from some cultivators.

It's not until his son comes back with a sniveling Shang Qinghua in tow that Shen Yuan realizes he must be very, VERY off the mark on who his character is.

Linguang-Jun was not, in fact, supposed to raise the future Mobei-Jun to be a dutiful son (nephew) who lacked abandonment issues and had a habit of leaving offerings on his uncle's desk like a cat, but since he neither knew who Linguang-Jun was nor the fact that Mobei-Jun was supposed to get dropped in the human world to be hunted for sport as a child, this was exactly the kind of Mobei-Jun that he had. Shang Qinghua, aka the hack author of this goddamn novel, has the audacity to complain to Shen Yuan about how he raised Mobei-Jun too well. When Shang Qinghua groveled and wailed and begged for mercy, Mobei-Jun brought him to his uncle! Because he "had the final say" in whether or not Shang Qinghua could swear fealty to him! What the fuck!

Mobei-Jun accepts Shang Qinghua's fealty at his uncle's behest, and Shen Yuan uses this attachment as a way to keep track of the timeline, including when Su Xiyan will fall pregnant with Tianlang-Jun's baby. In the meantime, Shen Yuan uses his own friendship with Tianlang-Jun as a way to mark his progress as well. He's met her a few times since Tianlang-Jun keeps dropping Zhuzhi-Lang off so they can run off on their little dates, but it's too odd to ask either of them if he's gotten her pregnant yet, so Shen Yuan tries instead to drop hints to nudge Tianlang-Jun in the right direction.

Talking about the joys of fatherhood, how adorable babies are, how unfortunate it is that some species, like humans, have very short windows of their lives in which they can have kids, and can even miscarry... Tianlang-Jun seems to get it- or maybe he's giving the man too much credit, because suddenly Tianlang-Jun is offering Zhuzhi-Lang as a surrogate with the insistence that "as a half-snake, he's guaranteed to give you litters! Even with a few dud eggs, he'll definitely give you a nice batch!" And "the gestational periods are short too, so you can always try again! As a heavenly demon, he's also very hardy! Your kids will be healthy for sure!" Shen Yuan has to firmly and kindly decline, though that seems to oddly disappoint Zhuzhi-Lang, who has been standing off to the side the entire time. Good sir, stand up for yourself! You don't need to do everything your uncle says! Filial piety only goes so far!

Anyway it's not long after that Su Xiyan actually gets pregnant. He expects canon to unfold from there, based on Shang Qinghua's unused old notes- Tianlang-Jun getting put under the mountain, Su Xiyan getting captured and dying after giving birth, Zhuzhi-Lang getting stuck in snake form and trying to free his uncle- all very sad and very necessary for Binghe's rise to power. Except for some reason Su Xiyan is now at Linguang-Jun's doorstep?! With Mobei-Jun?! Son, why do you look so proud of yourself?!

Apparently Mobei-Jun, who continued to pick fights with human cultivators, habitually came across Su Xiyan and her martial siblings. Su Xiyan, recognizing him, always let him off lightly out of consideration for Linguang-Jun. She warned him that as long as none of his attacks were fatal, she would let him go: but that if he killed any of her martial siblings, he would either die at her hands or suffer in the Huan Hua water prison. In return, Mobei-Jun, who was basically a semi-regular figure at the sect now, noticed immediately that she had gone missing when he showed up at the sect one day and it was another older cultivator that crossed blades with him, instead of her. Fast forward, and he's busting her out of captivity, and dragging her to Shen Yuan after she tells him that Tianlang-Jun is in danger. Shen Yuan is gobsmacked. The Old Palace Master hasn't even called on the other sects yet! Su Xiyan was in captivity for less than a day! What the hell, Mobei-Jun?!

But he cannot scold his dear nephew, who is looking at him so expectantly for praise. Instead, he calls on Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang to let them know about Su Xiyan's whereabouts, and then calls on Airplane. This damn hack author deserves the burden of this dilemma too!

Really, it's too late to turn back now, so after shaking Airplane's shoulders aggressively enough, the man finally agrees to pull some strings at his sect. The Old Palace Master's request for aid is turned down, Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan are alive, and it's not long before the Old Palace Master unfortunately qi deviates while attempting to cultivate in seclusion. Su Xiyan gives birth safely to a baby boy, and the human and demonic realms are in an uproar when Tianlang-Jun announces their marriage, but there's really very little they can do about it.

On the bright side, the two realms never merge. Unfortunately, Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan getting together seemed to have started a bit of a trend, and now Mobei-Jun was asking Linguang-Jun for permission to court Shang Qinghua??? And other cultivators that he met at the wedding have been extending offers and invitations to Linguang-Jun???

Shen Yuan would like to retreat back to the northern mountains and never come back.

[xiaq]

Absolutely wild to me how sometimes you don't even realize the way you'd been taught to perceive things as a kid was kinda fucked up, actually, until decades later.

Example:

As a kid, I constantly lived in fear of damaging shit in my parent's house. The walls. The floors (especially the floors. The wood was beautiful. Shiny. But so easy to scratch). The cabinets.

As a sixteen-year-old, I once took my car to the dealership after work and paid a very dear sum of $250 ($10/hr cashier salary) to fix a slight scratch in the paint because I knew if my father saw it there would be hell to pay. It didn't matter that I parked far out, like I'd been taught, and someone scratched it anyway. It was my fault. I failed in my duties as a steward of my vehicle.

Every time I scratched a rim on a curb while parallel parking or got a door ding or, god forbid, didn't wash and vacuum that car every weekend, it was treated like some sort of moral failing.

Last year, when my husband and I first moved into our house, he scraped the side of our car when parking in our (Very Narrow) garage. When he told me, my first instinct was to be afraid for him. Like something terrible was going to happen to him because of this mistake. I urgently reassured him that it was okay, it was an accident, I wasn't mad. Baffled, he was like, "Yeah? I know? Like, thank you for the reassurance, but I'm only a little annoyed, I'm not upset. It's just a car." And I had to take several minutes to process that. It's...just a car.

We keep the car tidy. We maintain it. But we wash it maybe 4x a year. We only vacuum it after dirty road trips or when the dog hair starts to get annoying. It has scrapes and dings and the leather seats have stains. But that's ok. Because it's just a car.

This morning, I realized that a small rock had gotten embedded in the felt foot on one of our bar stools. Neither of us had noticed. There are now scratches on our beautiful hardwood floor. My immediate response was fear accompanied by a heavy measure of paralyzing guilt. "I'm so sorry," I told my husband, "I should have noticed. I'll figure out how to fix it, I swear. I can probably sand down that section and match the stain and--"

"Whoa, hey," he said. "It was an accident. And it's fine. Floors are going to get damaged. They're floors. We live here. There was damage in places before we even bought the house, remember? It's not a big deal. It's just a floor." Right. It's just a floor. Right.

My husband's mom is visiting and this afternoon, as I was sitting in the kitchen looking at the scratches on the floor, I offhandedly asked her if my husband had ever broken or damaged anything as a kid. "Of course," she said. Household items. A TV. A wrecked car during his teen years. I asked how she punished him.

"Why would I punish him for things like that?" she said. "They were all accidents."

Right. Of course. Right.

[sydwritess]

Talk Shows and Love

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: You were invited on the Jimmy Fallon show to talk about the new movie you starred in 'Leave the world behind'. You invite your boyfriend, Lando with you to watch from the crowd, what you didn't expect was him to show up with the whole circuit.

Second Person POV

Warning: swearing,

Notes: y/f/n = your best friend's name

You, Lando and your best friends were out dress shopping for your big night tonight. Jimmy Fallon had graciously invited you on his show to talk about the new movie you starred in.

"Okay, but you have to try this one on." Your best friend said, holding up a big, baggy black dress.

Your smirked at her, took the hanger and went in your dressing room to change. It was pretty quick seeing how it was a pull over.

"Y/f/n." You call out.

"Come on! I bet it's so cute!" She says. You slowly walk out, and Lando and your best friend start laughing hard.

"I look like I'm about to follow some Amish guy back to his shop to help cut cheese or something!" Say, laughing with them. She laughs more.

Suddenly you see Lando walking towards you from the couch he was sitting on.

"I think it looks great. Nothing revealing, just... perfect." He says, wrapping his hands around your waist.

"Your cute, but no." You say, meeting his eyes through the mirror.

"Okay." Your friend said, coming back to the fitting room area. "This... is the one." She says with a grin.

"I'm scared." You joke. She holds up a black dress from behind her.

You took it and immediately went to the dressing room

It was a thinned strapped, black dress, low cut, with a corset chest and waist area, somewhat see-through at the stomach, and tight fitted around the thighs, with some folded layers where the slit is. It was long at the back, enough to drag across the floor slightly.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror when suddenly the curtain opened and your friend came into the space.

"Y/f/n!" You say.

"What? You were fully dressed." She said.

"What if I wasn't?"

"Well that wouldn't be a problem for me." Lando said from outside. You and your friend burst out laughing.

"Okay but can I just say..." She pauses looking at you. "You look really pretty in this one." She says.

"You think?"

"Oh, I think." She says

You both step out of the room. When Lando see's you he immediately stands up.

"Woah." He says. You couldn't help but smile.

"Okay, your definitely getting this one." Your friend says, looking at you.

"I know. I think this is it." You say. Your turn over to see Lando still starring at you. Mouth slightly open, eyes looking you up and down.

"You alright?" You ask.

"You look fucking good." He says. You laugh.

"Thanks." You say, hugging him. You walk back into the dressing room, changing out of the dress and going to pay for it.

"Okay, what's next?" Lando asks.

"I have to get down to the studio so they can do my makeup and everything." You say.

"I have to go, but I'll see you there." Your friend says, you wave goodbye, and go out to Lando's car. He starts driving down the road, going down to the Fallon studio.

We got there quickly, Lando parked the car, you got your dress out and walking to the back of the studio building.

"Ms. Y/l/n, right this way please." A security guard said, opening the door.

"Special treatment, yeah?" Lando said, walking in right behind you. You look back and smile at him quickly.

You followed the security guard down the long hallway, stopping in front of a door with your name on it.

You walk into the small room, seeing your stylist there waiting.

"Hi y/n." Rachel says happily.

"Hi, great to see you." You say. You walk back into the little dressing room, putting your dress on, and walking back out, sitting in the styling chair.

"So what are we thinking today?" She asks.

"I have no idea... Honestly, I don't think I want makeup." You say.

"Okay, do you mind if we do a little? You won't even notice it." She says.

"Yeah, that's fine." You smile.

She starts doing your makeup lightly, and quickly, before moving onto your hair, straightening it like your last show.

"Your all set." She says.

"Great thank you." You say, she nods and leaves the room, leaving you and Lando by yourselves.

"You look beautiful." He says, grabbing your hands gently.

"Thank you." You smile.

He leans in to you slowly, bringing on hand up to your cheek, gently kissing you.

"Your going to ruin my makeup." You smirk, mumbling against your lips.

"It's okay. You could always re-do it." He smirks. You laugh slightly.

"Why don't you go find your spot, I'll be out shortly." You say.

"Okay." He smiles, and walks out of the room.

You take one more look in the mirror before hearing a knock on your door.

"Come in." You say. The door opens and Jimmy walks in brightly.

"Y/n y/l/n! Great to see you again!" He says, hugging you.

"It's great to see you to! Can't believe i'm back here." You smile, hugging back.

"I know, I can't believe it either. Look I just wanted to say, 5 minutes before the show." He says.

"Great, I'll be right out." You say. He smiles and walks back out of the room.

You take one more look in the mirror, adjusting your hair before walking out, being directed to the side of the stage.

Jimmy sit's down, you watch as the cheering dies down from the other side of the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest here tonight, she's been on here plenty of times... everybody's true love." He says enthusiastically.

"Please welcome out Y/n Y/l/n!" He says happily, pointing out to the stage. You walk out at the crowd cheers loudly. Some people even standing.

You wave to crowd before sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Do you feel the love there?" Jimmy asks excitedly.

"I do, I do." You say, smiling. Eventually the crowd dies down.

"How's everything going? How- How's life going?" He asks.

"It's been great. It's been a while since I've been here, it's great to be back."

"Well it feels great to have you back. You were on here a couple of years ago, but then you've gotten the role for 'Leave the World Behind-'" He says, the fans start cheering again, and Jimmy laughs.

"I know, it was amazing but I'm glad to be taking a break now." You say.

"I know, it's great. And- and I see you have a couple of close supporters here with you to." He says, you look at him confused before looking into the stands, where you see Lando and all of his friends sitting there, waving.

"Oh, well isn't that just wonderful." You say.

"Not thrilled?"

"Eh. It's alright." You joke. He starts laughing.

"Okay, do you mind... if we jump right into things here?" He asks, holding up some cards.

"I don't mind." You say.

"Great, so we have some questions from some fans here."

"Are they questions from yourself?" You joke.

"No- maybe some of them." He chuckles, the crowd laughs.

"Okay, so your first question... In the scene where you dodge all of the self driving Tesla's, was that real or greenscreen?" He asks.

"That was real."

"What? No way." He says shocked. You nod and smile.

"Can you describe it to us?"

"Yes, so basically I took a month's worth of training courses for that. They even closed off that specific road for it. And I had someone in the car with me." You say, Jimmy nods along.

"They had a bunch of Tesla's lined along the road, but parked in the spots where I was supposed to dodge them. And I would drive really fast down the road and... some day's I did crash. But other's went well, and then to make it more real, before the scene, they got real tesla's with people driving them, so I could dodge them properly." You say.

"Wow, and you did crash?"

"Yeah, I did a couple of times, but I got the hang of it."

"What did that feel like to you?"

"Oh I felt amazing. I never got to drive that fast so it was really cool to me."

"Did you have like protection in the car, I mean, how- how did you not get hurt?" he asked.

"Yeah, we had everything, bars lining the interior, a suit everything to not hurt us."

"Well that's good. I mean no dying on set wonderful." He jokes.

"Very. Plus... I think if I died, Lando would kill someone." You laugh. You look up to see Lando smirking from his seat.

"Really? You think?"

"Oh definitely." You nod.

"And actually, when I first crashed. Oh my god... I was so fucking scared like."

"Oh am I not aloud to swear?"

"No, we'll cut it out." Jimmy laughs.

"Oh shit-" You say, and then catch yourself, moving the mic away from you. Shaking your head.

"Your okay. Your Y/n Y/l/n we've got you." He laughs. The room went quiet.

"So... after all of the practice, would you say your qualified for F1 driving now?" He asks.

"Oh yes, definitely. I truly think so." You say, putting your hands to your chest. Jimmy laughs.

"I mean, the more I drove, the less I crashed." You shrug.

"Would you say that your McLaren good?"

"Definitely McLaren good." You say.

"You should join Ferrari!" Someone shouts from the crowd. Everybody starts laughing.

"I mean, if they'll considered me, I'll take the offer." You smirk.

"So, can we get into the scenes a bit? I heard you had some trouble shooting one in particular." He says.

"The tooth scene?"

"Yes."

"Okay, yeah, that was... really, really fun." You say sarcastically. Jimmy laughs again.

"Do you mind walking us through it?"

"So basically when Charlie, who plays Archie, get's out of bed. He throws up blood. I was in the room with Julie, or Amanda, and I was like okay, this isn't bad. A little blood, whatever." You say, brushing it off, waving your hand down.

"But when it came to him pulling out his teeth, I didn't expect it to be so... gross. And when he started doing it, along with the sounds it made, I ran to the bathroom and started throwing up myself." You laugh.

"Oh my god! How many times did you have to re-shoot it?" He asks, leaning forward to you.

"At least three. I seriously don't know what came over me because I usually have good tolerance for that kind of stuff. But that was just... vile." You say.

"Wow." He laughs. "And did you have the same problem when he threw up in the living room, that scene?"

"No, I actually switched places with Julie, so instead of her running out to get Rose from the yard, I ran to get rose and Julie stayed inside." You say.

"Hey, whatever you have to do." He laughs. "Where they nice about it at least?"

"Super nice. Everyone was amazing, they were like 'are you okay?' 'do you need a break?' stuff like that. Really amazing team." You nod.

"That's great." He says.

You and jimmy continue to talk more, about the movie, what it came down to, the process, normal questions people have, and then you finally wrapped up.

"Thank you so much for joining us Y/n, we hope to see you again." Jimmy smiled.

"I hope to see you to." You say, and walk back off the stage, away from the roaring crowd. You walk back stage, surrounded by the crew, even some fans.

"You were great out there." One of the officer's said, He walked, behind you as you cut through the crowd of people.

You were making your way through when you see Lando come up to you from a different hallway.

"You were amazing." He said, grabbing your hand.

"Thanks." You smile. You both made your way outside, where you saw even more camera's and people.

"Okay! I need everyone to back up now! Make a path! If you don't you leave!" The security yelled, people started backing off to the side, so you could walk.

"Right this way y/n." He said, pointing as he walked next to you, putting his arm up so people wouldn't jump at you.

You three got through the crowd, as small as it was, it seemed bigger.

"Alright, go out the back entrance, it won't be busy back there." The guard said.

"Thanks." You say. You and Lando finish the walk to the car, both getting in.

"Jesus, you have more fans then me." He said, looking over at you.

"What can I say?" You shrug.

There was a moment of silence before he leaned over the middle to kiss you.

"Did you actually throw up?" He asked, mid kiss.

"Yeah. But we won't talk about it."

"Really? So all I have to do is spit out fake blood to scare you?" He says.

"Yeah, but let's not. You might be going to work with a black eye the next day." You smirk.

"Hm, deal." He says. He sat there for another moment, not moving the car.

"You look really beautiful." He says lowly.

"Thank you." You smile, looking over at him.

"But I still think you should have went with the first dress, not as revealing." He smirks.

"Don't you like revealing?" You tease.

"Yeah but... for my eyes only." He says, kissing you again. This time longer, and slower, before he drives off.

Hey loves! Got this idea from the movie 'Leave the World Behind' def recommend! Hope you like. Comment to be added to the tag list!

[akeaaan]

Until You Called Me Bipa Again

➤ part2

⤷ Jinu x fem reader: reincarnation, angst, slight smut, fluff, flashbacks ‿◞ ྀི 3.6k words

𝟒𝟎𝟎 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞—𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞. 〃✦ ┆You appeared like a ghost from a forgotten past—fierce, untouchable, and destined to fade. But fate has a twisted sense of humor. Now in the modern day, with neon lights replacing ancient lanterns and stages replacing palace halls, Jinu's memories aren’t as buried as he thought. Because you're back. And this time, the past isn’t staying buried.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Four Hundred Years Ago

In the dust-covered alleys of the capital, where noblemen never walked and lanterns flickered only on festival nights, Jinu lived a life stripped of comfort and pride. No father. No home. Only his mother's fading warmth and the frail laughter of his younger sister kept him tethered to hope.

His most prized possession—an old, cracked bipa, passed down from a grandfather he never knew. The strings buzzed, and his fingers ached from the cold, but Jinu still played. He sang in the markets, in the gutters, in front of taverns full of drunken men—pleading silently for someone to toss a coin, to hear him, to see him.

But hunger does not wait for dreams.

His mother collapsed one evening with nothing but water in her stomach. His sister cried herself to sleep from the pain of it. Desperation crept into his soul like frostbite.

And then he heard it. A voice—silken and venomous—whispered to him as he sat alone under a half-shattered bridge:

"You desire more, do you not?" "Let me make you heard. Let me make you needed."

"...Who are you?" Jinu whispered, heart hammering.

"I am Gwi Ma. And you are meant for more than this filth."

His voice shattering and reforging like molten metal. And when he awoke, the streets no longer spat him out.

He sang again.

But this time, the crowds stopped. This time, the nobles listened. This time, even the king heard of the boy with the voice that could silence war drums.

And so, Jinu was brought into the palace.

The King—stern, aging, but not yet cold—was taken by him. "Sing for me," he commanded. "Often." And he did.

The palace gave Jinu more than gold. He was granted silk robes. Hot meals. His mother nursed back to health. His sister given a tutor. They lived in a small but gracious home within the inner court walls.

Jinu thought this was it. That he had found peace.

Until the day you entered the throne room.

He remembered the moment with perfect clarity.

He was seated cross-legged beside the King's throne, plucking the bipa with practiced grace. His song—an ancient lullaby his mother used to hum—echoed softly in the high-ceilinged chamber.

Then:

The creak of massive double doors. The scrape of delicate slippers on stone. A rustle of silk robes.

His fingers froze on the strings.

You stepped into the light, flanked by your ladies-in-waiting, your posture poised, your chin held high with the quiet command of someone raised among power and etiquette. The King's daughter—his only heir.

Jinu's fingers froze on the strings.

He didn't need introductions.

He knew you — the King's daughter, the only heir of the throne. The Moon of the Court. The Jewel of Joseon.

You moved with reverence, stepping before your father and bowing deeply. As you rose, your eyes — thoughtful, soft, but unreadable — swept across the room.

And then, they landed on him.

Jinu's breath caught.

Your eyes met his, and in that fleeting moment, the sound of his bipa faded into silence.

The court didn't notice — the strings still hummed beneath his fingertips — but Jinu's world had stopped.

There was something in your gaze. Not just nobility or beauty, though you had both in abundance. It was clarity. As though you could see right through him — past the silks he now wore, past the voice that earned him this false paradise — and into the starving boy who once sang in the streets for scraps.

Your gaze lingered a heartbeat longer than custom allowed, then drifted back to your father with a serene smile.

Jinu looked down quickly, his hands trembling slightly as he resumed playing.

He felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest. Longing? Awe? He didn't know. He only knew that from this moment on, he would remember your gaze more vividly than any melody he ever composed.

You huffed, the weight of your wooden sword pressing against your palms as you swung it in a clean arc across the open courtyard. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, casting a golden hue across the stone tiles. Each strike of your blade echoed through the palace grounds with sharp precision.

Across from you stood General Jae-won, his arms calmly folded behind his back. A soft, approving smile played on his lips.

"You've improved, Princess," he said, voice warm with pride.

You rolled your wrist and slashed downward with more force, the movement fluid.

"Have I now?" you asked, glancing at him with a smirk tugging at your lips.

Jae-won chuckled under his breath and nodded. "Indeed. At this rate, I might retire early and let you lead my troops."

You were about to retort when the distant sound of footsteps made you pause. Your attention shifted to the far side of the courtyard. A figure moved along the palace walkway — poised, graceful, and unfamiliar.

A young man in soft robes, his hair tied neatly, a bipa cradled gently in his arms. His stride was unhurried, yet there was a quiet intensity about him that made the world around you still.

He passed by, and for a brief heartbeat, his gaze met yours.

Dark eyes. Steady. Curious. But just as quickly, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the corridor beyond.

You blinked, brows furrowing. "Who was that?" you asked aloud, more to yourself than anyone else.

Jae-won had been watching too. He cleared his throat and turned to you with a faint look of amusement. "That would be Jinu," he said simply.

"Jinu?" you echoed, unfamiliar with the name. "I don't recall anyone by that name before I left for the Eastern etiquette academies."

"He arrived not long after your departure," Jae-won explained. "A musician... of sorts. The king's new favorite."

Your frown deepened. "I was the king's favorite."

That earned a low laugh from the general. "You still are, but His Majesty has many interests. Jinu... he brings something different."

You narrowed your eyes, still staring in the direction the stranger had gone. "What kind of musician draws the king's attention like that?"

Jae-won's expression shifted to something more thoughtful — even a little enchanted.

"His voice," he said quietly. "It's magical, Princess. Some say it's been blessed by the heavens themselves."

You scoffed, but your curiosity was piqued. A musician with the king's favor? A voice like magic?

You were a warrior, a princess of steel and fire.

But suddenly, you wanted to hear him sing.

Later that night, the palace was quiet—too quiet.

You moved with calculated steps, the silk of your robes brushing against stone floors as you slipped past your chamber doors. Every creak of wood and distant voice sent a shiver of caution up your spine. The guards were making their rounds, and the ever-watchful maids lurked like shadows in the halls, quick to report anything out of the ordinary to the king. You, however, had learned their patterns. This wasn't your first midnight escape.

You were the crown jewel of the kingdom—the king's only child. A daughter, yes, but no less an heir. Unlike the sons of kings before you, your claim to the throne had always been a matter of scrutiny. Many whispered that a queen could not rule alone, not in a world dominated by men. Your parents had tried for another child, a son to ease the burden placed on your shoulders. But the stars were not kind.

Each pregnancy after you ended in grief—miscarriages, premature births, and one heart-wrenching stillborn. The palace physician warned that another attempt could take your mother's life. Your father, once a fierce warrior now a softer man in love, refused to risk her again. When his court advised concubines, he refused them all. "One child is enough," he had said. "My daughter will be a great queen one day."

But such love came with weight. You bore it in silence—in your etiquette training, in your endless political tutoring, in your sword drills that left your hands bruised and raw. The pressure of a nation sat on your shoulders before your crown ever would.

And so, when the walls felt too tight and the crown too heavy, you sought air. Solace. Escape.

Your feet led you where they always did on nights like these—to the hidden lake just beyond the palace walls. It was a secret place tucked among the willows and stones, a patch of serenity you'd claimed as your own since childhood. There, you'd sit in silence, letting the moonlight kiss your skin, watching the fish stir beneath the ripples. It was your peace.

But tonight, peace was not alone.

You slowed as you reached the final bend of the narrow path, your slippers landing silently on the dew-damp earth. You stepped carefully from rock to rock across the stream, aiming for the familiar curve of the shore where you always sat—and then you froze.

Someone was already there.

A lone figure stood at the water's edge, tall and still, as though part of the night itself. The moonlight reflected off his silhouette, illuminating long dark hair and broad shoulders. He didn't belong to the palace guard—his stance was too relaxed, his presence too... wild.

Your heart thudded in your chest. A civilian?

Panic swept over you. If he turned around, if he saw your face—if word reached your father that his daughter had wandered alone in the dead of night—

You turned on your heel swiftly, aiming to disappear before the stranger noticed. But luck betrayed you.

Snap.

A twig cracked under your foot like thunder in the silence.

You froze in place, breath caught, lowering your head and turning slightly away to shield your identity. Your back remained toward him, posture rigid.

You didn't dare breathe.

The sound of fabric shifting came next, soft footsteps turning your way. The voice that followed was calm, smooth—almost amused.

"I wasn't expecting company tonight."

It was a man's voice. Warm. Young. Not startled, not suspicious... curious.

You didn't answer.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" he asked again, softer this time. "I've seen your footprints by the water."

Your shoulders stiffened.

You heard the faint rustle of grass beneath someone's footfall.

Your body tensed instinctively.

He stepped forward—just one pace—but it was enough to close the distance.

You exhaled, a long sigh of resignation slipping past your lips. There was no point in keeping your back to him anymore. You slowly raised your arms in mock surrender and turned to face the stranger—only to freeze the moment your eyes met his.

"...Bipa," you blurted out—the first word that shot through your panicked mind.

A beat of silence passed.

"...Excuse me?" the man replied, tilting his head slightly. His voice was calm, but confused. You wanted to crawl into the earth.

You mentally face-palmed so hard it echoed in your skull. Of course. Out of all things to say...

You were physically trained for battle, swift with the blade, fierce with your hands—but mentally? You had the memory span of a goldfish.

"Your Highness?" he added, this time his voice gentle, curious. "Are you alright?"

Your lips parted. "You..."

You hesitated as your gaze took in the contours of his face, now clearer in the moonlight. His features were familiar, sharp yet graceful—beautiful in the kind of way that left you disarmed.

You slowly lowered your hands.

"The guy with the... bipa," you finally said, squinting as if the memory would sharpen if you stared hard enough.

He blinked. Then, with a hint of amused patience, he corrected you.

"Jinu."

"Right..." you muttered, voice trailing off in awkward defeat. "Jinu."

He smiled softly—just a twitch of his lips, but it was enough to make your ears burn.

"I see you come here often, Your Highness," Jinu said with a small, curious smile, the moonlight catching the sharp angles of his face.

You rolled your eyes and waved him off with a sigh. "Just Y/N," you corrected, your voice soft but firm. "We're not in the palace right now."

Jinu tilted his head, amused, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. "No, we're not," he agreed easily, his tone light, like he was testing the boundaries of a secret.

You turned your head slightly, catching a distant view of the glowing lanterns lining the palace rooftops. They flickered like stars in the distance, unreachable yet always watching. A breath hitched in your throat.

"Don't..." you started, your voice catching in the cold night air as you clenched your fists at your sides. "Don't tell my father."

Jinu raised a brow, pretending to consider your request. "That you've been sneaking out?" he asked, teasing laced in his voice.

You scoffed quietly. "It's called getting fresh air."

He chuckled, stepping aside to make way for you. "A royal taking midnight strolls like a runaway? Scandalous."

You brushed past him, clutching your arms tightly to your chest as a chill swept across the lakeside. The moon's reflection shimmered on the water like silver silk, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

The silence stretched, awkward but not uncomfortable.

Then, Jinu's voice broke through the quiet as he made his way towards you. "You always come here alone?"

You nodded slowly, your gaze still on the moonlit sky. "It's nice to get away from time to time..." you murmured, your voice soft.

Jinu hummed in response. He was now standing behind you, not too close, but close enough for his presence to feel warm. The both of you watched in silence as the clouds drifted across the face of the moon, casting fleeting shadows across the grass.

"You snitch me out, and I swear I'll break that bipa of yours—" you joked, stepping forward with a teasing tone.

But your foot landed wrong.

The soft soil beneath had turned slick from the earlier rain, and before you could catch yourself, your balance gave way. A startled gasp escaped your lips as the world seemed to tilt.

And then— Strong fingers curled around your wrist in a firm, instinctive grip.

Your body jolted, but you didn't hit the ground. Instead, you found yourself caught, leaning into Jinu's chest as he held you with one arm wrapped around your waist, the other still grasping your wrist.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

You could feel his breath brush against your ear, warm and steady. His heartbeat thudded just a bit too fast, matching your own. The world had gone still again—except for the racing pulse between the two of you.

"...You good?" Jinu asked, voice low, but there was something different in his tone now. Softer. Less teasing.

You tilted your head up slightly, your eyes meeting his. "Thanks for catching me..."

He didn't let go. Not right away.

Instead, his gaze lingered on you longer than it should have, his dark eyes searching your face like he was trying to memorize it under the moonlight.

"You should be more careful," he muttered, but it sounded more like a confession than a scolding.

Your fingers brushed against his chest as you steadied yourself, and for a moment, neither of you moved to pull away.

"...I'm starting to think you like saving me," you whispered.

His lips curved, just barely. "Maybe," he said, almost too quietly. "Maybe I do."

The first time had been an accident.

But now... it was almost tradition.

Midnight after midnight, you'd sneak away from your chamber under the watch of sleeping guards, your steps light and practiced as you made your way to the hidden lake beyond the palace walls. And always—without fail—he would be there, waiting beneath the moonlight with his bipa resting against his lap, his gentle smile like a secret only you were allowed to see.

Jinu.

The court musician. Your father's prized performer. A boy once plucked from the streets and gifted a place in the palace because of a voice that could tame demons and move spirits.

He should have remained just that—your father's favorite.

But you ruined that boundary long ago.

You formed something with Jinu that words could not contain. A sacred bond built in glances and moments stolen between royal walls. No one knew. No one could.

Each time you passed him in the palace halls, your pinky would subtly hook with his. At the banquets, when all eyes were elsewhere, your gaze would find his. And when he sang by the lake, you'd sit by his side, laying your head on his shoulder, listening as each strum of his bipa lulled you into a peace no one else could offer.

You had brought him to your chambers before. But tonight felt different.

The silk sheets clung to your bare skin, warm from the heat between your bodies. Jinu lay in front of you, face soft with exhaustion and love, your fingers threading through his damp hair. His lips trailed kisses along your neck, slow and reverent, as he moved inside you.

Your breath hitched. A quiet moan escaped your lips before you could hold it back.

It was wrong—every bit of this. He was your father's musician. A servant in your world. And yet...

Yet your heart didn't care for titles.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breath uneven, arms tightening around you. His final thrust left him trembling against you, his skin pressed to yours like he didn't want to ever let go.

You swallowed hard, throat dry from the sounds you had made earlier, still too breathless to speak.

Then, barely above a whisper, you heard him.

"I love you,"

The words left his lips like a prayer. Fragile. Honest. Final.

You blinked, heart still racing, your hand still in his hair.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling—barely audible beneath the weight of fate.

Even if the world would never let it last.

And it didn’t.

The sound of chains echoed louder than your heartbeat. Jinu turned one last time, just in time to see you thrashing in General Jae-Won’s merciless grip. His arms locked around you like iron, holding you back as if you were the one who committed a crime.

“Father, please!!” you cried out, your voice raw, cracking. Your nails dug into the general’s sleeves, desperately trying to free yourself—but it was no use. He wouldn’t let go.

You could barely see through the tears, but Jinu could still see you. He always did.

“LET HIM GO!” you screamed again, your voice echoing through the royal courtyard like thunder.

Your father stood unmoved at the top of the palace steps, adorned in royal robes, his crown catching the sunlight like a blade. His expression was colder than winter steel, his eyes locked with Jinu’s—not as a boy who had grown up beside his daughter, but as something less than human now.

As something cursed.

Jinu’s gaze dropped slowly to his trembling hands. The marks were spreading—dark, curling demonic patterns twisting up his arms, glowing faintly with a cruel hunger. They climbed past his wrists, slithering over his skin like vines. Reaching for his throat. His face.

He remembered the laughter that used to fill these palace walls.

The scent of incense during evening prayers.

Your smile.

The warmth of your pinky finger brushing against his under the palace hallways.

He had forgotten how it felt to be anything other than damned.

Gwi-ma.

You screamed again—your voice nothing short of devastation—and he flinched at the sound. But the guards didn’t stop. They dragged him forward, one step at a time, toward exile. Toward darkness.

Still, he turned his head.

Just once more.

His eyes found yours.

Tears streaked down your cheeks, mouth open in a silent sob. Everything in you was breaking—your heart, your voice, your soul. And yet, there it was.

Love. Guilt. And last...

Betrayal.

Because even though you loved him—more than anything in this cursed world—you weren’t enough to stop this.

Not this time.

And he knew…

Neither was he

Four hundred years.

It had been four centuries since the last time he saw you—not like this.

Back then, your arms were open and warm. Back then, your smile reached your eyes. Back then, he could pretend he wasn’t what he was. Neither of you were enemies.

Neither was he.

But now… now you stood before him again—on a quiet rooftop at the edge of the city, bathed in neon light and moonshine. The wind tousled your hair, but you were as steady as ever. Same face. Same voice. But not the same heart.

This time, your arms weren’t open.

This time, they held a sword. Pointed at his chest.

Your stance was firm, your blade unwavering, its silver glint reflecting the city behind you. You weren’t just someone from his past anymore.

You were a K-pop idol now... and worse— A demon hunter.

His enemy.

Jinu's lips parted slightly, breath catching in his throat as recognition lit up his eyes, soft and conflicted. Slowly, carefully, he raised his hands in surrender, stepping into the glow of a nearby billboard.

His voice came out low. Almost broken.

“...Y/N…”

The sound of your name from his lips made your heart skip, if only for a second—but you didn’t let it show.

You pressed the blade closer to his chest, the tip grazing fabric.

“I don’t have time for your games, demon,” you said, your voice sharp. “Whatever I was before… that’s gone now.”

You took a step forward.

So did he.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t fight.

His eyes searched yours, like he was trying to find the version of you that used to laugh under cherry blossom trees.

“Maybe it’s gone for you,” Jinu murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But not for me.”

The wind stirred, lifting a few strands of your hair. You felt it—like the ghost of a memory brushing against your skin. A fragment of laughter. A night under moon light. His hand reaching for yours.

You blinked it away.

“I said don’t test me,” you warned, though your hand trembled ever so slightly against the hilt.

“I’m not,” he said gently. “I’m just... remembering.”

His gaze softened, no longer sharp like a warrior's—but tender, human.

“You once told me I made the stars feel closer,” he said. “That when we danced, it felt like the world paused.”

Your throat tightened.

That memory wasn’t his to bring up. Not now. Not after everything.

But Jinu didn’t move.

He just stood there, bare-chested and vulnerable before your blade, eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t care what they turned you into,” he said. “If even a piece of you remembers... then I’ll wait.”

You hesitated.

Just long enough for the blade to lower—only an inch. But it was enough.

He noticed.

And he smiled, just a little. The kind of smile that hurt more than any wound.

You turned sharply before he could say another word, retreating into the shadows without looking back.

But deep in your chest, where old feelings had long been buried…

...something stirred.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

a/n: This is actually my first time posting a oneshot on tmblr so I'm really lost lol but I actually like posting some stuff I do now here so there might be a lot of random ideas I made being post here lol, but if you like some angst type of fanfics to read I got you <3

might make a part 2 of this...

[nephynes]

Heeseung loves you in the way storms love the shore. Hard, repeating and certain you’ll never change. You’ve tried to break free, but the leash is still there—in your thoughts, in your breath, in your silence when he calls. He never had to trap you because you always stayed.

nsfw warnings: SMUT, dub-con undertones, toxic relationship dynamics, obsessive behavior, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy, manipulation via gift-giving, gaslighting, trauma bonding, stalking, break-in scene, makeup sex, coercion-adjacent power play, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, manhandling, somnophilic implications, non-physical abuse, emotional aftermath, unhealthy coping mechanisms, crying, power imbalance, dark romantic themes, blurred consent, light degradation, isolation from friends, psychological control.

3.7k

It's past midnight when the knock comes. Not a frantic one. Just steady, like Heeseung knows you're awake. Like he knows you're standing on the other side, hand hovering over the doorknob, breath caught in your throat.

You don't move. You tell yourself not to. But then you hear him. "Come on, baby." His voice is low, sweet, and mocking all at once. "Open up. I miss you."

You squeeze your eyes shut when you hear him chuckle. "I can feel you hesitating. Don't make me wait, angel."

And god help you—you open the door. Heeseung stands there like a ghost from your worst mistake. Hoodie on, hood up, eyes glinting like he already knows he's won. "There's my girl," he murmurs, stepping in without invitation. His hand catches your chin as he walks past you, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Took you long enough."

You met Heeseung at the café you worked at, it was nothing glamorous. Just a corner spot near the financial district, where you were usually stuck behind the counter wiping tables or pouring coffee with aching wrists. He walked in one Friday morning in a suit that fit too well and a gaze that settled on you like he already knew he'd ruin you.

He was polite, charming even. Called you pretty the second time he came in. By the fifth visit, he wasn't ordering coffee anymore—just sitting at the back table, watching you with quiet interest, leaving hundred-dollar tips like he was paying for your attention.

You didn't stand a chance.

He asked for your number in that soft, coaxing voice. Took you out that weekend. Took you shopping the one after. Bought you things you never asked for, always with that same sweet grin. "You work so hard," he'd say, sliding a bag across the table. "Let me spoil you a little."

And when the sweetness soured, when the manipulation began, subtle and sharp, you barely even noticed. Not at first, at least.

The first time he made you cry, he showed up the next day with flowers and a new phone.

When he snapped at you for texting someone he didn't like, he replaced your entire wardrobe the following week.

When he went too far, when his jealousy turned cruel, when his anger turned cold, he always begged for forgiveness with expensive perfume and new jewelry. Whispered "I love you" like it was a bandage.

Money became his language of apology. Control wrapped in tissue paper and designer bags.

By the time you realized what he'd done to you, how he'd cut you off from your friends, how you flinched when your phone buzzed, how you stopped smiling when you walked into work, it was already too late.

He had his claws in.

There was one night, months before you finally left, when he accused you of flirting with one of his friends.

Heeseung had taken you to dinner with a few of his friends—casual, nothing special. You barely spoke unless someone addressed you directly, always cautious, always polite. But one of the guys made a joke, lighthearted and harmless. You smiled, maybe even laughed a little.

That was enough for Heeseung.

Later that night, the car ride home was tense. You knew the silence too well by then, you knew it meant something was festering.

The second you stepped inside his apartment, he closed the door too softly. That kind of soft that screams danger louder than a slam.

"You looked real happy talking to him tonight," he said, voice level but hollow.

You froze at the sink. "What are you talking about?"

"You think I didn't see it?" Heeseung stepped closer. "The way you smiled at him. Like I wasn't sitting right there."

Your heart started pounding. "I was being polite, Hee. That's it."

"Polite?" He laughed, humorless. "You really think I don't see what you're doing?"

He raised his hand to run his fingers through his hair. It wasn't even fast but it was in rising anger and you flinched.

It was instinctive, immediate—your whole body recoiling like it had happened before. It hadn't. Not physically. Heeseung had never hit you.

But something about the way he could had already been planted deep inside you. Like you expected it now, like your body was just bracing for impact.

The silence that followed was worse than the shouting. Worse than anything.

You watched his expression collapse in real time—shock first, then guilt, then something fragile and crumbling that almost looked like heartbreak.

"No—fuck, baby, no. I wasn't gonna—" His voice cracked. "You really think I'd hit you?"

You didn't answer. You didn't even know how. Tears welled up in his eyes before yours did. He sank onto his knees with a devastated expression, dragging his hands through his hair.

"I'm not a monster," he whispered. "Jesus. I'd never...I wouldn't even think of that. Baby, do you really think I'm like that?"

You remember kneeling beside him, his arms wrapping around you like a trap made of silk, him repeating I'm sorry over and over until you almost believed him.

The next few days after that, he went overboard. Showed up at your work with a designer bag. The same brand your friend always carried—except this one was a higher tier, newer collection, rarer color.

He handed it to you with a smile and a kiss. "I saw hers the other day and thought—why shouldn't you have the better version of what she's flaunting?"

You didn't even question it. Not then.

He told you she was jealous of you. That she always had been. That she only kept you around because she wanted to compete. That you were prettier. Smarter. That you didn't need friends who secretly wanted to be you.

The bag glimmered in the light, expensive and perfect. Looking almost like a bribe, like an apology that cost too much to question, like something shiny to distract you from everything he was quietly taking away.

And the worst part? It absolutely worked.

The breakup hadn't been loud. It wasn't a screaming match or a shattered wine glass or slammed doors.

It was quiet. You told him you couldn't do it anymore, couldn't keep shrinking just to keep the peace, couldn't keep doubting yourself every time you made eye contact with another man, couldn't keep apologizing for things you never even did.

He hadn't expected it.

He stood there in your doorway, stunned like he didn't understand the language you were speaking. His voice cracked when he asked, "So that's it? After everything I've done for you?"

But you didn't change your mind. Not even when he showed up every day after that. Not even when there were flowers at your door. Expensive gifts you never asked for. Apologies in the form of designer jewelry, handwritten notes, voice messages at 3AM. A slow descent from devotion to desperation.

And when none of that worked, when you didn't answer his texts or let him in, his begging soured into something else.

Frustration. Entitlement. A low simmering anger beneath the surface of every "I miss you" that started sounding more like a threat than a plea.

You thought ignoring him would be enough. It really wasn't.

You woke up one night with the eerie sensation that something was wrong. Your room was still dark, but your body stiffened when you realized you weren't alone in the bed.

Heeseung.

Pressed to your side like he belonged there. Arm slung over your waist. Face buried in your hair like he hadn't let himself in while you were sleeping.

Your heart slammed in your chest. You jerked away with a sharp gasp. "What the fuck—Heeseung?!"

He blinked slowly like he'd just woken up. "Hey," he murmured, voice heavy with sleep. "You left your door open."

You hadn't.

"You can't be here," you choked out, panic rising. "Get out. Get the fuck out."

But he didn't. He reached for you immediately. You tried to push him away, but that only seemed to make him more determined and that's when he kissed you.

Desperate and deep. As though kissing was a language he could use to convince you instead. You'd resisted at first, trembling, trying to pull back, but it was him, it was Heeseung, and your body remembered the way he used to hold you when things were good, the way his voice would crack when he whispered he loved you.

And like always...he knew exactly which pieces of you to press until you broke for him completely.

His hand slid down, thumb dragging between your legs until your whimper betrayed you. Until the betrayal was yours too.

He pushed into you like he never left, groaning in your ear, clinging to your hips like you were being reunited instead of undone.

"You still feel like mine," he whispered against your neck, breath ragged. "You can't tell me you don't miss this."

You didn't answer.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your throat. "I'll be better. For you," he swore, fucking you harder like the rhythm itself could convince you. "I swear. I'll stop being so jealous. You don't have to be scared of me anymore. Just—just come back to me. Please."

You'd cried under him.

Not just from the overwhelming heat, not just from the way he made your body submit, but from the way you hated yourself for giving in, hated that a part of you still ached for the version of him you fell in love with.

But that version was dead. It'd died long ago. And whatever had crawled into your bed now didn't care.

Because he still finished inside you, still moaned about how perfect you were, how you belonged to him. How this meant you weren't really over him.

He kissed your trembling fingers as you lay there numb, still shaking, still silent. "I know you don't mean it," he whispered. "All that stuff you said. You still love me. Right?"

You still couldn't answer and Heeseung took your silence as a yes.

You deleted every trace of him after that night—photos, texts, blocked his number, even told your friends to stop you if you ever mentioned his name again.

But it didn't matter.

Because Heeseung never truly left.

He still shows up like nothing happened. Still finds his way into your apartment, into your bed, into your head. And every time you tell yourself it's the last time, he tilts your chin up, smirks like he owns you, and says, "Did you miss me, baby?"

The worst part? Your body answers before your mouth can.

He ruined you for anyone else. No one touches you like he does. No one talks to you like he does. He calls you his pretty little toy, pulls your hair when you disobey, whispers filth into your ear until your legs are shaking and your mind goes blank. You cry and beg and tremble for a man you swore you'd never let touch you again.

And now he's standing here in your apartment again calling you his girl.

"I'm not your girl." you try, voice fragile, but he's already stepping inside. You walk away without looking back, already halfway to the bedroom when you ask,

"What do you want, Heeseung?" A stupid question. You already know. The second the lock clicked and he stepped over the threshold, the air shifted. He was always going to follow. You knew it in your bones, in the silence that thickened behind you with each step. You should've kept the door shut. Should've kept your mouth shut. But now he's here, moving through your space the way he always does—uninvited, inevitable.

He kisses you.

And for one blessed second, you don't move. You keep your hands at your sides. You clench your jaw, trying to pretend you don't feel that familiar ache, the one he planted in your bones months ago and never let die.

But he's gentle, almost mocking in the way he presses his lips to yours, dragging it out like a dare. "You miss me?" he breathes against your mouth.

You turn your head. "No."

He hums, tilts your chin with two fingers. "Liar."

Then he kisses you again—deeper this time, thumb stroking your jaw as his tongue slips into your mouth, and that's when you feel your whole body trembling with need. Your knees give first, followed by your resolve.

You grab onto his hoodie like it'll steady you, gasping into him, letting him press you back into the wall.

You should tell him to stop, push him away, tell him you're done for real this time, that this isn't healthy, that you're not the same girl he broke. But your mouth betrays you, just like your body already has.

Because you're already letting him slip your shorts down. Already lifting one leg for him so he can settle between your thighs as he slides down to his knees.

"Fuck," he exhales, almost devout as he stares at your cunt, wet and wanting and all his again. "Look at you. Always so ready for me."

You swallow hard, your fingers curling into his hair as he kisses the inside of your thigh, slow and open-mouthed, breathing hot against your skin.

He looks up at you from between your legs, pupils blown and lips wet, you feel it again—that pathetic ache, that invisible leash he still keeps around your throat.

It should feel like power, like you have the upper hand, spread open above him, his mouth on you, his body lower than yours.

But it doesn't. Not with Heeseung.

Because even here—especially here—he's still in control. The way he touches you, slow and certain, mapping out the places he knows you'll break. Like he's reminding you this is his. The grip he has on your hips, the heat of his mouth, the way he knows exactly how to fuck you open with his tongue until you're gasping and grinding and begging for more.

Your hands fly to his hair and you try to take something back, try to make him yours, but he just lets you. Smirking into you like it's cute that you think you have any power here.

You're dripping down his chin, thighs shaking, spine arched off the wall, shaking by the time he pulls away from you, lips wet, chin glistening. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks up at you like he just tasted something sweet and owned it.

"Turn over," he says.

You hesitate. Just long enough for your eyes to meet his—dark, commanding, utterly unbothered—and you're already moving. Already crawling up the bed on shaky limbs, already letting him manhandle you onto your stomach like it was never a question.

Heeseung climbs over you slowly. Methodically. Like a predator getting comfortable in its favorite hunting ground.

His hand slides between your shoulder blades, flattening you against the mattress, his cock heavy and hard grinding against your ass. You whimper, already wrecked and dizzy from his mouth—but he hasn't even started.

And when he finally pushes his cock in, it's like your lungs collapse. You're soaked for him. Way too ready. Too familiar. Your body remembers him, opens up like it never stopped craving this. And he sinks in all the way, one slow, devastating thrust that has you clawing at the sheets.

"Fuck," he breathes, burying himself deep. "Missed this pussy."

You try to protest, you really do. Try to find the breath to tell him this doesn't mean anything, that this isn't you two again.

But then he starts moving. Hard and deep. Almost as if he's punishing you for ever walking away into the first place. Your legs are shaking, moans muffled into the pillow, his name spilling out of your mouth over and over, helpless and needy.

"You know we're back together now, right?" he murmurs in your ear, hips snapping against your ass, cock dragging along your walls and hitting that spot he knows makes you keen. "You letting me fuck you like this? It's done, baby. You're mine again."

You gasp, the words barely registering under the pressure of his thrusts. "We’re back together," he says again, gritting his teeth. "Say it."

You shake your head, a whimper catching in your throat.

"I said say it."

"W—We’re b—back together—!," you breathe, barely audible.

He groans cause you know that's all he needed. That's his reward. He drags you up by the waist, forcing you to arch for him, pounding into you deeper now, every thrust sending you higher, closer, ruined.

"You think I'd let you go just like that?" he growls. "After all the shit we've been through?"

Your head lolls back against his shoulder, and you nod. Not because you believe it—but because you're too far gone to argue, whimpering when he pushes you back into the sheets.

You're shaking, face buried in the sheets, body arching helplessly with each brutal thrust. Heeseung's pace is relentless and sharp, punishing even, as if he's trying to fuck the memory of him back into you.

It's too much.

You reach back blindly, hand fumbling against his hip, fingers curling in a weak attempt to push him away, to slow him down, to just breathe.

But he catches your wrist with one hand and slams into you harder. "Don't," he snaps, voice low and dangerous in your ear. "Don't fucking run now."

He pins your hand to the small of your back, holding you there, twisted beneath him and completely at his mercy. You whimper, legs trembling, mouth open in a silent cry as he drives into you again and again, each thrust deeper, meaner.

"Should've known better," he grits out, "than to think I'd let you go."

Your walls pulse around him, overwhelmed, overstimulated, ruined. And all you can do is take it—take him—while he reminds your body exactly who it belongs to.

His breath is hot against your neck, lips brushing your skin like a taunt.

Your whole body's gone pliant under him, muscles trembling, cries muffled into the sheets. His thrusts keep getting more and more brutal—sharp, full-bodied, relentless—every snap of his hips punching the breath out of you.

He lets out a broken groan, right in your ear. "Shit—Baby—I'm so fucking close."

You panic.

Your hand scrambles back again, weaker this time, just resting over his wrist on your hip. You're already too far gone to stop him—but you try. And your voice is a breathless whimper, high and thin.

"Hee—pull out. I'm not—I'm not on the pill anymore."

He halts his thrusting but only for a second.

And then you feel him smirk against your shoulder, his breath catching in a dark little laugh. He pushes in deeper, slower this time, grinding his cock into you like he owns your womb.

"Yeah?" he murmurs, all faux innocence. "Why, angel? You don't wanna have my baby?"

You whimper again, shaking your head, but he doesn't stop. Heeseung just fucks you harder.

"Thought you were mine," he says, low and taunting. "Letting me fuck you raw, crying all sweet—now you're scared? Hm?"

His hand slides under you and over your stomach, palm flat like he's already claiming what's inside.

"You think I wouldn't put a baby in you just to make sure you never fucking leave again?"

You cry out, overwhelmed, overstimulated, trembling so hard it borders on pain, but it doesn't matter. Not to him.

Because he's so close. And now he's chasing it.

"You gonna take it?" he breathes. "Let me fill you up like you're supposed to?"

You're gasping, moaning, sobbing something that's probably "please"—but even you don't know if it's for it or against it.

And he finishes with a growl, burying himself to the hilt, cock pulsing deep as he spills into you, holding your hips down like he's planting it there, it triggers your own orgasm that hits you harder than a tidal wave. “Oh my god! Heeseung! Please—!”

He continues to fuck you through it, pushing his cum deeper into you, making you whimper from the sharp overstimulation.

Your body goes limp beneath him, skin flushed and slick, the sheets tangled and ruined around your legs. You're still panting, breath caught somewhere between a sob and a moan, the inside of your thighs sticky with his cum.

Heeseung doesn't move right away.

He stays buried in you for a beat longer than necessary, trying to seal something in, his hand splayed over your stomach, claiming it.

And then, slowly—so fucking gently—he pulls out.

You flinch, legs twitching, whimpering from the sudden emptiness.

"Shh," he soothes, brushing your hair back with a tenderness that shouldn't belong to someone like him. "You did so good."

Your throat feels so dry, your limbs are nearly boneless and your mind is fogged over with everything he just took from you.

And then he reaches for something you hadn’t even notice him place on the nightstand. You hear it before you see it—the tiny click of a velvet box opening.

And your blood immediately runs cold.

"Heeseung," you croak, voice thin and hoarse.

But he's already slipping the ring onto your finger.

It's simple, delicate, beautiful even, but so so wrong.

"Looks good on you," he murmurs. Like it's just another part of your body he's claimed. “Don’t you think?”

You try to pull your hand back—too slow, too weak—and he catches it in his. "You'd marry me, right?" he says, not even asking. Just stating it, like it's already done. "You're gonna marry me."

You're shaking your head, tears starting to burn, but he just kisses your knuckles like a man in love.

"Doesn't matter what your friends think. Doesn't matter what you think either," he adds, voice dropping dark and low. "You're mine."

His hand returns to your stomach, palm flat, firm.

"You're probably already pregnant anyway."

You choke on a breath.

"We'll move away," he says, almost dreamily. "Somewhere quiet. You won't need anything but me."

And you know he means it. Every word. Every plan he's made without you. Every delusion he's turning into your very reality.

You're still half-naked. Still wet with him. Still caught in that foggy, ruined daze.

And now you're engaged.

Whether you even said yes or not.

• a/n: i hope this satisfies all the toxic heeseung fic reqs i got (there were a lot) i think one shots are my new thing, also GUYS MY FIC REQS ARE CLOSED

[kingkaisen]

♡ — So . . . you decided to end things with Satoru. He doesn’t exactly handle the end of things well.

♡ — toxic gojo || slight nanami x reader || mentions of sex

SATORU GOJO had been your ex-boyfriend for fifteen- no, sixteen hours and twelve minutes.

He never saw it coming. The only time Satoru ever considered the idea of no longer being your boyfriend was when he imagined himself as your husband. But now he was nothing, nothing more than a curled up ball lying on top of his messy bed, his pillow catching the tears that fell from his blue eyes as he silently cried.

His phone rang. Was it you?

His large hand searched around for the device that had gotten lost in the tangle of sheets. When he found it, letting that bright screen illuminate his tear-soaked face, he then tossed it onto the floor.

It wasn't you. His mind didn't register who exactly was calling him, but when he didn't see the mesmerizing photo of you smiling lovingly that he set as your contact, nor the name "my baby" followed by a heart emoji, he didn't give a damn who was trying to reach him.

"I fucked up," he mumbled to himself, gripping messy strands of his white hair. "Damn it. I fucked up, I fucked up."

The horrific memory that replayed in his mind with every blink once again resurfaced, consuming his thoughts to the point where he struggled to tell the difference between the past and the present; it felt as if he was still standing in his bedroom watching the tears fall from your pretty eyes as you told him it was over.

—

"You don't even see me as your girlfriend, do you?" That's what you said, searching his startled gaze for answers. "I'm just someone you hook up with a few times a week, and if I'm lucky, maybe you'll take me to a cheap restaurant every now and then. But that's only to make sure I keep fucking you, right? Right?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Of course you're my girlfriend," Satoru watched as you grabbed a suitcase, stuffing it full with the bundle of clothes in your arms.

"Really? Because I haven't met your family, your friends . . . like you're ashamed of me or something. You never make an effort to spend time with me beyond hooking up, and that fucking hurts. Why can't we ever just go on a real date or-or watch a movie on the couch together?" You paused, as if waiting for a response. "Because that's the kinda stuff you do with someone you're in love with. So it's clear to me that you don't love me."

"I didn't think you wanted-"

"Let me stop you right there," you turned around, grabbing your jewelry off of his dresser and shoving it into your suitcase, not caring about any sort of organization — you just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. "There's nothing you can do or say that'll make this any better, so . . ."

Your words trailed off, but only because you caught a glimpse of the face of the man standing near the edge of the bed, and noticed tears were brimming in his reddened waterline, threatening to fall. Your own eyes widened a bit in shock.

"Why are you about to cry?" You laughed sadly, shaking your head. "I see how women just fucking . . . gravitate towards you, and I see how much you like the attention. Replacing me will be easy. You'll be fine."

"Look at me," Satoru started, but you didn't halt your movements as you started to zip up your suitcase. The teary-eyed man regained movement in the limbs that were previously numb from heartbreak. He approached you. His large hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away from the suitcase. The sheer force behind his grip was strong enough to yank you closer to him — close enough for your bodies to be pressed together, his breath to pat against your face, and for his wide, glassy eyes to stare intensely into yours, though you tried to avoid the gaze of the man towering over you. Darting your eyes to the dresser, the bed, the floor; it was pointless. He used his other hand to grip your chin, leaving you with no choice. No choice but to look him in the eye.

"I told you to look at me," he mumbled lowly. "You're wrong about everything. My family doesn't deserve to meet you, and you haven't met my friends because I don't trust them. What if they start crushing on you? Don't you know how gorgeous you are? I'd have to kill them just for looking at you a second too long, baby."

With the hand that gripped your chin, Satoru raised his thumb, gently running it across your soft bottom lip.

"How can you blame me for wanting to fuck you all the time? You're just so . . ." He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your neck, and there, he let his lips linger as he whispered, "I'm not letting you leave me. I can't let it happen. I promise you, I didn't know you wanted those things from me. I thought you'd think I was taking things too fast. But I'll fix it, okay? I'll give you all of my time. We can do whatever you want, go wherever you want-"

"Let go of me."

You spoke in a tone Satoru wasn't familiar with. Though he would rather have died than pull away from you, he did so, and was met with a look he also wasn't familiar with.

Your brows were pinched, the corners of your lips pointed downward, your eyes staring off to the side — guilt. Pure guilt.

Oh.

He understood now.

A deep, heavy sigh escaped Satoru's lips. He looked up at the ceiling, attempting to calm himself with slow, relaxing breaths, but his hands were clenched into fists. His knuckled turned pale. His bottom lip started to tremble.

"Who is it?" He whispered.

"Satoru-"

"Who the hell is it?" It was the first time he ever raised his voice.

"It's none of your business," you reached for your suitcase, pulling it off of the bed. "I found someone who actually cares about something other than sex, and I won't let you ruin this for me."

You expected him to stop you once more. You expected him to grab your wrist, block the door, beg you to stay, do something. Anything.

But he simply stood there, frozen in the bedroom. Fists trembling. Breathing unsteadily.

He listened to the heartbreaking sound of your suitcase rolling throughout his home, followed by the click of the locks and the shutting of his front door.

And that was how it ended. That was the moment he lost you.

—

Sixteen hours and forty-five minutes after your breakup, Satoru sat up in his bed, his eyes going wide. The man leaned off of the edge, grabbing the phone he tossed to the ground earlier.

The missed call — the call he begged and prayed and hoped was you but it ended up not being — was sitting on his notification screen.

He didn't dial the person back. Instead, Satoru found himself opening Instagram. You had blocked his main account, but his secret one? Well, it was able to access your public profile with ease. There weren't any photos of you with your new lover just yet. Apparently, you were smarter than that, but not smart enough to private your account, or smart enough to tell your new lover not to like and comment on your recent photos.

"You look beautiful. That dress really compliments your skin tone."

"What a gorgeous smile."

"Glad to see you're excited for summer. I am too, but only because of the plans we've made."

Comment, after comment, after fucking comment. As Satoru scrolled and scrolled, he bit the inside of his cheek. He closed out of Instagram and opened his recent call log.

That missed call came from Kento Nanami, the same bastard of a friend who was commenting on your photos. Except, Kento wasn't a bastard. That was the entire point, right? He'd treat you well. He'd cherish you. He'd buy you gifts, go for strolls in the park, or take you to that new couple's baking class in town that you had been hinting at for weeks, but Satoru never caught on until now. Until it was too late.

Sex would come later, serving as a bonus in your relationship rather than the point of it. It would be passionate, every thrust romantic. The thought alone made Satoru’s stomach twist into knots. The thought of another man getting the chance to enjoy the warmth of your pussy, to swirl their tongue around yours, to suck at your clit until you came and they could taste your sweet juices, your fingers pulling at blonde strands instead of white . . .

Oh, Satoru was pissed.

He had gathered that Kento called him because, unlike him, Kento wasn't a bastard. A man like Kento would want to talk things through with his friend, your ex, and work things out so there would be no bad blood. He was mature in that way. Kind in that way.

But Satoru wanted bad blood. He wanted there to be all sorts of blood.

His phone suddenly dinged; an incoming text message. One from Kento.

Satoru, please respond when you get a chance. It's important. We should meet up somewhere and talk.

Satoru smiled. He texted back: Yeah sure.

Kento messaged back quickly, asking the other man if he was free tomorrow around noon, detailing a potential meeting at a nearby park.

Satoru's smile brightened. He texted back: I'll be there.

He turned his phone off by clicking the side button, then tossed it on his nightstand. Satoru tucked himself underneath the covers of his bed, darting his eyes over to his closet, where — on the top shelf, a little ways to the right — he kept a small pistol, one he planned on using tomorrow.

Seventeen hours after your breakup, Satoru was no longer crying into his pillow.

@sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @thequeenofcurses @he11okitty-mari @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @levisfavoriteteashop @insomniacbehaivour @preciousamethyst @kxmorrx @iwanttohitmyself @ellaumbrella1 @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @blackdxggr @jaegergirl @gunslxtz @he11okitty-mari @deadrevenge @koikohib @http-bell @meretrixla

[mwphisto]

Sylus: Sweet Temptations

~ this started as a quick imagine, meant to end where the "read more" tab is currently located. And, well, it spiraled.

~ Warnings: smut with no plot, reader is female! Cunnilingus, Sy hits it raw per usual, evol use, creampies. Pretty tame lol

A note from Soul: Heyo idk how I got here. It really started to spiral lmfao I miss writing full length stories. Perhaps I'll try and give it a whirl with a previous Sylus idea I teased a few weeks back. Enjoy! WC: 2.3k

"You... can't wear that."

You freeze, eyes widening as you stare at Sylus. Fresh out of the shower, your hair still damp, and a fresh set of comfy clothes adorning your clean skin. "Wha-why not?" Glancing down, you can't figure out what is so scandalous about a t-shirt and shorts.

"Your shorts are... too short." There is an odd tremor in his voice, one that freezes your confusion as it barrels down the train tracks of pure spiraling. "My shorts are too short?" You start, a smile creeping onto your lips as you cross your arms. "Are you saying I'll tempt the twins by showing so much of my legs?" Your grin turns wicked.

"Your legs? Sweetie, look behind you." So you do, catching a glimpse of your back in the full length mirror. No, it's not just your legs. The shorts are hiked up a little, teasing the round curves of your ass cheeks just below the cotton surface. Oh. oh.

"I don't see anything wrong." You bat your lashes at him as you turn to face him again, hands reaching back and poking the plush of your ass. Something Sylus catches in the mirror reflection, something you notice makes his throat bob. "Sweetie..."

"I'll be fine." You stand firm, the teasing lit in your voice making him clench his jaw. "We promised the twins we'd watch that movie with them, can't back down no-hey!" Your legs are kept in place by the familiar black and red tendrils of Sylus' evol.

But, he's stalking forward, long strides closing the distance. You feel the need to back away, but your legs are cemented in place. Before you can ask what he's doing, he's squatting down in front of you.

"My kitten is being naughty." He states simply, hands hooking in the elastic waist of your cotton shorts and tugging them down.

"Sylus!" Your face flushes, heat radiating through your body as he reveals exactly what he expected to find. "No panties, Kitten? I thought we were just watching a movie with the twins... instead you're trying to tease me, huh? Shorts riding up that perfect ass, just to forgo underwear. Easy access for me, right? How considerate."

You wanted to melt into the floor, eyes frantically looking between his face and where it hovered inches next to your exposed cunt. "I-I just didn't bring underwear into the bathroom with me." But Sylus is laughing, shoulders shaking as his hands move to hold your hips.

"You parade naked around our bedroom all the time, kitten. That's a silly excuse and you know it." You feel the urge to defend yourself, but, dammit, he's right. "C'mon, pull my pants back up the twins are probably wait-ngh!" You flinch, struggling to stifle your noises as Sylus nudges your cunt with his nose.

"They can... wait. I'm craving a pre-movie snack."

You’re struggling to swallow, mouth feeling impossibly dry as his words ghost warm air along your center. “Sy…” but you’ve already lost the battle, lost the war, this isn’t what you wanted to happen anyways, no?

“Hush, kitten. Let me eat.”

You can't stop the strangled yelp that leaves your mouth, hands immediately flying down to tangle in the silky soft white strands of Sylus' head. His nose is settling on your pubic bone as his tongue prodded between your slick folds. You could tell by the look he shot you that he wasn't at all surprised at how quickly you got worked up.

"S-shit, Sy. C'mon... I'm gonna fall." You could feel your knees trembling, even with his hands and evol holding you up. Still, Sylus didn't stop. His warm tongue poking at the pulsating bud residing at the apex of your cunt. As if to drive his point home, he squeezed your hips as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking until you squealed.

"S'too intense! C'mon!" But your lips were parted, fingers tugging on his hair so hard you were certain a few strands would come with you when you let go. But Sylus didn't stop, didn't even try to hide the obscene noises leaving his mouth as he slurped on your juices.

He was in his own form of heaven, face caged by your thighs, mouth glued to your cunt, your fingers yanking his hair so hard it sent delicious thrills of pain down his spine. Fuck, he could cum just like this and be satisfied. "S-shit I'm already gonna cum..!"

Your entire body trembled with pleasure, your cunt clenching around nothing but Sylus could feel the movement against his chin. Every nerve ending seemed to light on fire, to the point you wanted to tell him to ease up just to extend your pleasure.

But if there was one thing about Sylus, he loved to eat. And he certainly did not take well to any interruptions. That, and he always went back for seconds, thirds, hell even fourths and fifths and sixths and…

"Shit'm so close!" The tension in you cunt spread up to your gut, down your thighs, you had half the sense to realize his evol was the only thing keeping you upright at this very moment. Sylus hummed at your words, vibrating your now sensitive clit and making stars spark across your vision as his tongue flicked left and right.

Drool pooled in your mouth, damn near spilling out had you not swallowed to try and gain any sense of sanity. Sylus didn't relent, no, his eyes seemed to sparkle up at you as he started slurping again, suckling on your pulsating clit until he could see the tears brimming in your eyes. If his mouth wasn't so occupied, he'd tell you to cum.

"Boss man? Are you and Miss Hunter going to watch the movie with us?" Sylus didn't freeze, but you sure snapped out of your daze. You expected him to unlatch himself from your cunt, to gruffly answer Luke and then continue. Instead, he doubled down.

It was up to you to give a verbal response... that devil.

"Boss man?" Sylus merely sucked on your clit, you swore you could feel his lips curling into that goddamn smirk. "W-we'll be out in a minute. Sylus is j-just finishing up." What was he finishing exactly? You'd let Luke make his own assumptions. "Oh! Alright... we'll get it ready."

You could feel the confusion in Luke's words, but it didn't matter when your orgasm was teetering right on the edge. "Sylus please, oh fuck I'm so close to coming, please..."

He obliged just as you nearly hunched over, fingers spasming in his hair as you sought for some sort of grounding. The pleasure building up was far too much, and you knew your orgasm would absolutely destroy you. You just prayed you'd be able to keep your voice down.

Sylus' mouth was hot as he shook his head against your cunt, slurping and sucking as your eyes squeezed shut. Your release covered him, drenching his lips and chin as your pussy trembled and clenched all over his mouth.

Your ears rung, eyes swimming with tears and you tried to blink them away. Sylus barely relented, not until your hands tugged at his hair weakly. Then, with a soft kiss on your sensitive cunt, he pulled away.

"Sylus..." You weren't even sure what you were going to say, but he didn't give you a chance. No, there was something lingering in his gaze. Primal hunger, need, you knew you were in for it now. He wasn't done yet, the poor twins would be waiting forever.

"Sylus the twins are waiting-" but you were being scooped up in his arms, shorts still around your ankles as he walked you over to the bed. "They can start without us, I'm not satisfied yet." A dark gray patch had leaked across the front of Sylus' sweatpants. His cock visibly straining against the material. "Oh fuck..."

“Do you see what trouble this little stunt of yours has caused us, my naughty little kitten?” You pushed up on shaky arms, watching Sylus pull off the flimsy material of your shorts and toss them onto the bedroom floor.

“You’ll need to make it up to me, y’know. You can’t just go and dangle the sweetest of treats in front of me and expect me not to…” he sunk lower, crowding your space as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “…bite.”

An involuntary shiver racks your body, eyes dazed as your legs spread wider to accommodate him. “Then take your fill, Sylus. Devour me.” You swore you could see his self control snap in half, but his lips were crashing into yours with bruising force before you could process it.

Sylus took his time exploring your mouth, something he had done countless times, but it never quite got old. He didn't think it ever would. All the while, one hand reached down to yank his cock out of the confines of his sweatpants. He hadn't been wearing underwear either... but you didn't need to know.

You had been so lost in the feeling of his mouth that you didn't process anything else until it was a second too late. The dull head of his cock was pressing into your entrance, the pressure of the stretch making you whimper. Sylus soothed you by kissing you harder, drowning you in the feeling of his mouth.

"Good girl, take it." The whisper was enough to send a shrill of pleasure down your spine, walls quivering as inch after inch was buried in the warmth of your velvety walls. "Feel so good, baby. Such a good girl f'me. Taking me so well..." every praise was a whispered sin into your parted mouth, enough to have you gasping.

The pressure built, until your legs trembled as they crossed around his waist. "Sh-shit so big... so full..." He had bottomed out, a breathy laugh leaving his lips at your shameless praise.

"Don't inflate my ego too much, kitten."

You could only roll your hips in response, you didn't mind inflating his already large ego. "C'mon, Sy. We still have a movie to watch." His head fell forward at that, a reminder he wasn't all that willing to accept. "Quit rushing me, Kitten."

Your mouth opens to complain, but you can't manage to spit the words out. Not when he draws back half way just to push in again. "I want to take my time with you." he shifts, pushing you both further up the mattress so he can get better leverage.

"Only you, my love, would dare to order the leader of Onychinus around." And if you weren't grappling with your fraying sanity, you probably would have made a smart remark back to him. Instead, your nails dug into the material of his shirt, yanking it up his back in the process. You needed something to scratch.

Sylus found his rhythm easily - he always did - somehow knowing just how to fuck into you so you're seeing stars. If you thought he was ruining you, you should see the mess you were making of him. His shirt bunching at his neck, your nails digging into the muscled flesh, his sweat pants hanging around his thighs.

If anyone were to see the leader of Onychinus like this? It would be proper blackmail material. "S-shit Sylus! Just like that... fuck!"

It was incredible how quickly he could work you up. Your stomach was twisting, cunt fluttering around his size as it plunges in and out of your heated center. You could cum just from this, from the pap pap pap of his hips rutting into you, from his abdomen ghosting your sensitive clit. All of it had you forgetting to keep your voice down.

"Sy, m'gonna cum again..!" You pulled his face towards you, mushing your lips together in a sloppy kiss as his hips worked you senseless. "Cum for me, kitten. Make a mess." There was already a creamy ring of your arousal collecting at the base of his cock, it drove him wild.

His hand sunk lower, angling himself just right to begin rubbing eager circles on your twitching clit. "Feels so good, huh? Do I make you feel good, kitten? Ruining this pretty pussy cuz you wanted to be a brat? Wanted to get a rise out of me? You got it, fuck you got it."

You clamped down on him, walls suffocating him so harshly his hips stuttered in their steady pace. "Shit!" He almost came just from that.

You weren't faring much better, entire cunt spasming as your second orgasm hung just out of your reach. "C-cum with me, Sy. Please?" He was a devil? He'd beg to differ with that one. You were so effortlessly sin-incarnate. "Course, k-kitten." And you were falling apart, cunt gushing around him as his hips slammed into you one last time.

Hot ropes of cum poured into your cunt, filling you to the brim as a rumbling groan vibrated Sylus' chest. He was twitching, forehead pressing to yours as your uneven breathing mixed together.

"Pleased with yourself, Kitten?" A kiss lands on your nose, then your cheek, then your lips. You're struggling to keep your eyes open, a dopey grin on your lips as you try and calm down. "Very."

"Boss man... miss hunter?" This time, it was Kieran knocking at the bedroom door. "We can uh... reschedule the movie night. Or just uhm... Luke and I can just watch it together." A mortified shiver was creeping up your spine. How much had they heard?

Sylus sighed, a devilish look in his eyes as he called back. "Start watching, Miss Hunter and I will be out in a few minutes."

"C'mon Sylus!" But your lover only smirked down at you, "I thought you wanted to watch the movie, kitten. You were so eager to rush me every time I was looking to take my time."

This was his form of payback. "You're evil, Sy"

"...I know."

[himasgod]

can I request the overblot boys (hcs) with a fem reader who has curly hair. but when she went to twst she didn't get any products (Crowley would NOT give us shit) so she didn't do her curls until she got products and got to do her routine again and actually wear her curls for the first time in NRC

(if u don't do multiple ppl then can I js get Vil with this)

OVERBLOTS X READER

Where you have curly hair and you start to do your curls properly

Vil definitely noticed when your curls weren't defined, but he assumed it was a stylistic choice or a wash-and-go day.

When you walk into the hall with your curls fully revived and styled, he slowly raises an eyebrow.

"Oh? Darling, is that your natural curl pattern?"

When you tell him you finally got your products and could do your routine again, he's intrigued, and a little horrified that you had to go without proper haircare.

"Ugh. Typical of that insufferable man. No understanding of maintenance. None."

Vil goes into mentor mode.

"What's your curl type? 3A? 3C? Do you use heat? What's your drying method?"

He's already sketching a custom hair regimen in his mind.

He pulls a few strings and suddenly you have access to top-tier products from Pomefiore’s exclusive inventory.

You try to refuse, but he won't let you settle for “bargain-bin conditioner.”

"You were already beautiful, but now you're radiant. Your curls frame your face like a crown, and I expect you to treat them as such."

He'll teach you how to preserve them overnight, how to pineapple your hair, and even offer to silk-wrap your pillow if you stay over at Pomefiore.

Jamil has sharp eyes—you know he noticed your hair before, but he didn't comment.

He probably assumed the frizz or undefined curls were just how your hair always looked… until one day you walk into Scarabia with your full routine done, curls defined.

"… You did something different. Not that I was watching—I mean, I wasn't—well, I was, but not like—"

sighs internally

He's flustered.

It's cute.

You explain the whole “no products until now” thing and he’s immediately sympathetic.

"That's rough. Honestly, not surprised Crowley wouldn't think to provide that."

He offers to help you track down specific ingredients or oils if you want to DIY your routine—Scarabia’s got access to spices and natural oils you could definitely use.

He won't admit it directly, but your curls? Devastating to him.

He likes the way they bounce when you laugh and how your silhouette changes in the sunlight.

Occasionally brushes your curls out of your face without saying a word.

Kalim bursts in like: “You look AMAZING today!!”

Jamil mutters under his breath: “She looks amazing every day…”

Riddle is baffled the first time he sees you with your curls.

“You look… different today,” he says, trying to maintain composure.

He is staring. He does not mean to stare. But he is staring.

You explain it's your natural hair texture and that you couldn't do your curly hair routine before now because you didn't have the products.

"That is unacceptable. As a dorm leader, I demand that Crowley provide proper grooming necessities for all students. I'll write him an official complaint."

Once he realizes that this is how your hair looks when it's healthy and cared for, he starts complimenting it—awkwardly, but sweetly.

"Your curls suit you… No, I mean they frame your face well. Er, aesthetically pleasing… That's what I meant."

He secretly memorizes what products you tell like and restores them without you.

Leona notices the change immediately.

One afternoon, you walk into the botanical garden with your curls out and his eyes visibly track you from head to toe.

"Damn. That's what your hair actually looks like?"

He is shook.

He asks if he can touch it. Not in a weird way—he's just genuinely fascinated.

He's never seen curls like yours before and he's very tactile, so he'll run his fingers through a curl and let it bounce back, amused.

"You've been hiding this the whole time? Tch. Waste."

When you tell him you couldn't do your curls because you didn't have products, he gets pissed.

"That damn Crowley. Of course he'd dump a herbivore in here without even the bare minimum."

He will absolutely have stuff delivered from Sunset Savanna (or just swipe from someone's shipment).

Compliments your curls like it's no big deal.

"You look hot. Curls work for you. Keep it that way."

Refuses to admit he's been glancing at you more than usual.

Azul pretends he didn't notice the drastic change, but his reaction gives him away.

"Welcome to the Lou—uh, I mean—Yuu. You look… different. Not bad. I mean—good. You look good. Yes. That."

You explain the situation about not having curly hair products and its entire meaning shifts.

"I see. How inconsiderate of the Headmage not to equip you with proper grooming tools."

Azul offers to source imported hair products for you at a discounted rate. (You say no—he tries again.)

When he realizes how important this is to you, he tries a different approach: "For you, I could offer them for free. Consider it… good PR."

Lowkey develops a huge weakness for your curls.

He will deny it if Floyd teases him about it, but he definitely stars longer than he should when you play with them.

Secretly imagines you in a mermaid form with curls flowing in water like seafoam.

He doesn't even realize how romantic that is until later.

Idia is on his tablet as usual when you walk into Ignihyde, bouncing hair, curls finally in their full glory.

He looks up once—and then goes completely red.

His hair flares up in pink flames and he nearly drops his tablet.

"Is that… a new skin of yours?!"

You explain the curl care thing and the lack of products, and he just stares at you, like,

“They let you suffer like, without item drops?? That's current villain behavior.”

He goes into researching curly hair routines and Amazon-equivalents in Twisted Wonderland.

Next thing you know, there's a care package outside your door

Every time you wear your curls out, he turns into a stammering mess who can't look you in the eye.

Worships the curls but cannot verbalize it.

Ortho ends up saying it for him:

"Big Brother says you look great! Especially when your hair spirals like this!"

Malleus is so used to be excluded that when you come with your curls defined and radiant, he thinks it must be some kind of costume he wasn't informed about.

"Child of man… your hair is… glowing today"

You explain it's just your natural curls and that you couldn't do your routine before now because of the lack of products.

"So you had to wait to reveal your true hair form. Hm… I understand. Many dragons shed their scales to grow stronger."

He absolutely romanticizes your curls

“They remind me of the curling mist over Briar Valley’s hills at dawn… Spiraling, elegant~”

He offers to send servants to fetch “whatever oils or enchanted waters” you require.

You try to explain it's just gel and leave-in conditioner, but he insists on going above and beyond.

Touches a curl with curiosity.

“So soft…”

(he says it in awe, not creepily, promise.)

He's not shy about admiring you.

He will walk beside you proudly, staring at your curls as they blow in the wind, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

[lilianade-comics]

"What Haunts in Vegas.........stays in Vegas!"

The hypothetical college trio series includes many hard hitting episodes, including this one where Vlad's in drag and has to seduce a short, sleazy human trafficking ringleader while Jack and Maddie play cards in the casino and distract the bodyguards.

This has been sitting in my drafts forever and I probably won't finish it any time soon (i wanted to adapt most of it into a longer comic) so here's a summary of the ensuing shenanigans and gags:

I love the idea that a series about Jack, Maddie and Vlad would feature a lot of stories about organized crime with a ghostly twist, so this is a reflection of that.

The trio plus Agents K and O set up a trap within a ritzy Vegas casino. Vlad, disguised as the silver vixen bait, is thoroughly incensed by his humiliating role but also ironically looks like enough of an effortless knock-out in a slinky black dress that the ruse seems to work on Petri. (Earlier, Vlad exclaimed to Maddie that only "an idiot" would fall for this disguise, followed immediately by Jack not recognizing him and wondering "who the broad in black is", only proving Vlad's point.)

The height difference between Petri and Vlad is so ridiculous that Vlad (who is wearing high heels) doesn't even initially notice when Petri approaches him to hit on him.

Another silly angle that makes Vlad a comically tailor-made fit for the role of Petri's seducer is the fact that Petri is a wine and cheese snob and prefers his women to be "cultured" in that regard. Vlad can't be out-snobbed on either front, so it nearly turns into a pissing contest of who's enjoyed the more exotic and expensive pairing.

Petri asks the 6'3 silver haired goddess sitting next to him if her hair is naturally silver, and Vlad stays in character to say yes, but it was caused by a great deal of stress brought on by her "oafish buffoon of an ex-husband" which prompts Agents K and O to tell Vlad to stick to the script through Vlad's bugged earring, and Jack in the other earring to express surprise that he didn't know his best buddy was married and why didn't he tell him?!

(A vein pulses in Vlad's temple, but he maintains a nostalgic expression for Petri's sake while he discreetly reaches up and mercilessly crushes his earring between his fingertips with an electronic crunch. Agent O turns to Agent K in the hotel suite they're monitoring the mission from. "Heels destroyed his comm." "...This is the last time we work with civilians.")

At some point, an increasingly smarmy Petri places his hand on Vlad's leg, and an uncomfortable Vlad's instinctive reflex is, unfortunately, to choke him.

While all of this is taking place, Jack and Maddie are playing the tables alongside Petri's lieutenants. The idea is that when Vlad lures Petri to the suite where Agents O & K will apprehend him, they will safely subdue the henchmen.

Vlad does manage to get Petri into the hotel room, but things immediately go off the rails at that point. Agents K and O have been incapacitated off screen, and Petri reveals he suspected that this was all a set up from the beginning, so he took the liberty of removing the dangerous element from the equation. Meanwhile, Jack and Maddie have their hands full as subduing the henchmen goes poorly and it turns out a large portion of the casino customers seem to be currently overshadowed. A massive fight breaks out.

The GIW files assumed that Petri Fyer was a human, but Vlad had clocked almost immediately upon meeting him that he's actually a ghost overshadowing a human being. Petri Fyer is actually Petrifyer, a large, monstrous ghost that resembles a toad. He departs from his human host to confront Vlad. Petrifyer has a paralytic venom that stuns humans and renders them immobile, so he uses it on Vlad and gleefully tries to decide what he should do with all of them.

It becomes apparent that Petrifyer understood that the whole situation was a set up, but he totally missed the fact that Vlad wasn't who he said he was, and since the paralytic venom is only effective on human beings, Vlad manages to break out of the paralysis by forcing a transformation.

Petrifyer vs. Plasmius ensues, there's some back and forth where Petri is 1) shocked he got catfished, 2) shocked he got catfished by the half-ghost billionaire who tried and failed to take over the world during the global meteor incident, and 3) still very into Vlad despite literally everything that is going on. Vlad proceeds to cheerfully beat the stuffing out of him.

Jack and Maddie manage to husband-wife power couple their way through ALL of the ghost-guests, wrecking the casino in the process. By the time they make it to the hotel room for back up, Vlad is standing in the middle of a destroyed suite, red heels in hand, Agents K and O groaning on the floor, and the dastardly ghost/human duo restrained. Vlad shoots his friends a withering glare and tries to wipe his lipstick off with the back of his hand. It just smears.

Petri turns out to be a case of true possession (over shadowing being short-term and possession being long-term). The meek, unconfident, ordinary gas station employee, Patrick Fitz, is consensually allowing the sleazy toad-like ghost Petrifyer to use his body to navigate the human world and make them both rich.

Once in custody, Patrick and Petrifyer attempt to elicit sympathy from Vlad due to their similar positions and affinity for "ghost-human relations." Vlad just sneers at them and says he is so far out of their league in every possible way they might as well be on different planets.

The mission ends, Jack immediately forgets he signed a non-disclosure agreement, and Maddie practices her card game skills. (Afterward, Vlad offers Maddie a much more understanding apology for the way he used to treat her, and thanks her for not killing him at any point during those days.)

[witchthewriter]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 ✧˖°.

・The fire danced from the fireplace, lighting up the room with soft warmth and light

・You were both reading a book, when the idea came to your mind. So, you closed your eyes and let your book fall to the floor.

・Slowly you leant on John, letting out an 'mmmm' before fulling committing. You closed your eyes, nuzzled into him and ... waited.

John smiled.

"Sweetheart-" he murmured, stroking your hair. Leaning down to press a kiss to your head.

・You didn't say anything, just let your body relax against his.

"I think it's time for bed," John grumbled, slipping the book mark you made him into his book and slowly stroked your head.

・You didn't move.

・He called out your name, gave you a little nudge and then decided, "I'll just carry you then-"

・You tried not to move a muscle, and when he picked you up, you panicked slightly. How rigid was a body supposed to be while asleep??

・John knew you were faking but played along anyway. You usually snored a little while asleep.

・Yet he still played along and held you bridal style; even walking up the stairs.

"You are very lucky," he whispered against your forehead while he lay you down, "incredibly lucky, how much I love you."

𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚 ✧˖°.

・You had already done this twice this week and it was only Wednesday

・Half of you was worried he was catching on

・The other half of you ... knew he'd call you out if you were faking

・It was well into the night when the next commercial came on (yes you have streaming services but you were watching on Prime so...still ads)

・You were ontop of Simon, head against his chest, breathing in his smell when he started to shift

"Love, you awake?"

・He moves his large hand from your back to your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb against your warm skin.

"You want to be carried again then?"

・You cannot help your reaction

・Eyes shooting open, warmth floods your cheeks, your neck, and you smile, sheepishly.

"When did you figure it out?" You ask, shifting to look him in the eyes

"You talk in your sleep."

"Ah..."

"Mmm, still want me to carry you to bed?"

"...yes please."

𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌 ✧˖°.

・You had fallen 'asleep' in his lap right when the movie was about to finish

・Literally, ten minutes before the credits were about to roll, you had laid your head in his lap and let yourself settle.

"Babe, you awake?"

・Kyle was met with nothing but silence.

・With a raised eyebrow, he gave you a little nudge but ... nothing.

・He saw that you were breathing, yet breathing lightly... but he played along

"God, you must have been so sleepy. Poor baby, no ice cream. Just straight to bed-"

"No!" You sat up instantly, not even groggy, "I didn't know we had ice cream-"

"Oh! You little faker!" Kyle said between laughs.

"Wait. Do we even have ice cream..." You said with a frown.

"Nope!"

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉 ✧˖°.

"Bonnie! Ready for another movie?"Johnny exclaimed, giving your leg a squeeze.

・You had watched three already; it was your weekly movie marathon - one you never missed.

・But the time was late, or early; depending on who you asked. And you just couldn't say no to him.

・So you laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes.

・It took about five minutes for Johnny to realise you weren't watching.

"Ah, sleep got the best of ye," he yawned, and you had to do your best not to smile.

・Turning off the tv, Johnny held you against his chest and walked you to bed.

・He was completely focused on getting you to bed, that he didn't notice the small smile that had crawled its' way onto your face

𝑲𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈 ✧˖°.

・Large hands stroke along your back, slowly moving from the top of your spine to the bottom

・It tasks everything in you not to make a noise

・Already feeling sleepy, and knowing he would carry you even if you asked, there was something a little funny in pretending

・You felt Konig lean down and kiss your head twice. Then again.

・Contentment vibrated through your bones; you felt safe, felt happy, felt ... in love

"Oh schatz, must have been a big day for you," he cooed.

・The very essence of his voice was dipped in adoration

・Looking at the clock, Konig decided to put you to bed.

"Come schatzi, let me take you to bed, ja?"

・His strong arms enveloped you, and when your face was turned upward, he kissed your brow and hummed.

𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉 (𝒐𝒈) ✧˖°.

・You heard him coming from the shed.

・John had been working on something for a few weeks and he spent most of his nights there.

・You didn't mind, but you had felt a tad touch starved lately.

・The idea popped into your head. It made you giggle to think of him carrying you while you fake-slept.

・So, you dashed to the couch and put your head at one end, while throwing a blanket on your legs.

・Shutting the door behind him, he walked into the living room and called out your name.

・His gruff, Scottish voice still sent shivers down your spine.

・Goosebumps erupted on your skin as he called out again, as his voice got lower...deeper.

・It wasn't long before he found you. He wrapped a hand around your ankle and squeezed lightly.

"bonnie's asleep then," he said and slid his hands underneath yours to hoist you up.

[dabihrkingfaleek]

That's me over there, I didn't even notice somebody was taking my picture...

“Overthinker” – Nicolae Scarlat, 2020

[camerahaterlittle]

Sleepy girl | Alexia Putellas

Summary: your Alexia's sleepy girl who she constantly falls asleep with

Warnings: bad writing grammar and this is honestly really short don't hate me please

Notes: yall I'm having a small gender crisis rn but anyways I now love katseye oh also small text for this one but since when was i writing for Alexia in a romantic way idk don't ask me

You had always been a really sleepy person but once you met Alexia somehow your sleepiness got worse than before and you always said that's because the Barcelona captain calmed you she stopped your mind from racing she stopped your heart from racing the spainsh woman helped you in more ways than one.

And Alexia was always there to be your human pillow whether you wanted to be cuddled up into her chest or your head on her arm hell even if you wanted to wrap yourself around the woman's thigh she'd let you without even thinking about it.

And the team teased you two about it relentlessly always saying something about how when you fell asleep on the midfielder she was always right behind you falling asleep with you.

The woman may not have been big on pda but every now and then she stopped really caring if the team saw you two in certain positions asleep though that care came back when she saw photos of you guys on their stories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sighed as you stepped onto the bus making your way to your usual seat sitting down next to the window your headphones immediately finding their way into your ears as you turned on some random audio book that Ingrid had recommended.

Alexia wasn't too far behind you sitting down next to you a couple moments later sighing as the team shouted everyone glad that they had got their win thanks to you, Pina, and Ewa all getting goals.

You were way too tired to join in on the bus celebrations since you played the full 90+ minutes the bus' engine could be heard as it started up you yawned as you rested your head on Alexia's shoulder your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately as you leaned into the older woman.

The Spanish midfielder leaned her own head against yours letting out a deep sigh as she felt her body relax for the first time since this morning she already knew that the both of you were gonna end up falling asleep and that you'd get teased by the team once you two woke up but she couldn't care less in this moment since she had you laying on her once more.

Before the two of you knew it you two were asleep and you guys had about ten minutes before the team finally noticed that you guys were knocked out lying on each other your hands clasped in the other's like you were scared the other would end up leaving.

"Aye aye, look Ale and Y/n are asleep," Pina said trying to get the team to quiet down a bit so they could all see the two of you cuddled up together.

The team all felt their hearts soften a bit at the sight of you two together they had all been secretly thankful for you because you melted their usually cold and tense captain into a soft and cuddly mess who always followed behind you like a lost puppy waiting for your attention.

The fans never got to see that side of Alexia since every time it was media day she grew a bit cold towards you not really clinging back to you when the cameras were on and rolling and that was something you understood and accepted without many questions.

Patri the leader of the fan club of you and Alexia thought it'd be amazing to take a picture of the two of you sleeping to post on her Instagram story once again Irene attempted to stop the younger woman but Patri didn't listen too busy trying to figure out what song she wanted for the story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patri8guijarro posted on their story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patri chuckled along with Pina as the story was posted Patri already knew she'd have to listen to a lecture and possibly even run laps but to her, it was totally worth it since she had to feed the fans in her fan club.

The team all settled back down in their seats Cata, Pina, and Patri all made themselves fit into the small seats together cuddling up to each other the tiredness finally hitting them they were thankful that they still had plenty of time before they reached the hotel much like some of their other teammates.

The bus was quiet as everyone was either sleeping or peacefully watching a movie the effects of you and Alexia taking over the bus as calmness filled the usually loud bus.

You and Alexia only moved closer to each other much like a koala would do to a tree to feel more safe and secure you two were blissfully unaware of the social media hype from the one picture Patri had posted something the team couldn't figure out that if they were glad or not.

Either way, the team and a lot of the fans knew that you and Alexia were endgame they knew you two were endgame long before you or Alexia even knew and you guys were only proving their point the longer you dated.

But little did the team or Alexia knew you had a little velvet navy blue box in your nightstand hidden by hundreds of pairs of socks that held a ring you had personally made after thousands of lessons on how to make one you had a personalized ring for Alexia that was waiting for you to propose to her with.

You were just waiting for the right moment to finally pop the question after 3 long loving years of dating.

[justboringthingss123]

Maid Jax x Gn!Reader

Fluff, Fluff and more Fluff, little cursing

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

It was your turn to hit when your evil clone laughed at you and said you couldn't do it.

Suddenly, a voting table appeared. You didn't know what it was about or why your friends wanted a new proposal, but you saw that Pomni and Jax disagreed. But you agreed anyway.

You were about to shoot when Gangle started giggling and Jax started cursing. You jumped when you saw Jax suddenly wearing a maid outfit? You never thought you'd see such a thing, and you burst out giggling.

Jax looked at you and became even more nervous. He swore he would kill you and Gangle for this.

When you took your swing and hit a home run, you walked over to Pomni, satisfied. Jax glared at you the whole time. Why did she have to hit a home run? He seriously hated you! Just as you were about to talk to Pomni, Jax came up to you.

"I SWEAR I KILL YOU FOR LAUGHING" Jax said. You only looked at him knowing he can't. But he was so cute in this outfit.

"Jax your so cute! Why can't you wear this all the time?"

Jax just stared at you. His blush only got worse. Oh, how much he hated it. Why did you have to be like this? So annoying. He sighed. "Say another word and I'll kill you, I swear!"

You hadn't even noticed that it was just you and him. It was Pomni's turn, everyone else was scattered everywhere, and Kinger was watching them. Well, it can't be that bad to maybe?

You suddenly kissed jax on his cheek. He stared at you.

Jax was shocked really. The most annoying person in his life has suddenly kissed him. In a maid outfit...

He didn't can say he doesn't liked it but It was really suddenly.

He just looked in your eyes and you in his.

Chain yelled at Ragatha's fourth home run. You cheered before turning back to Jax and saying, "Even if I annoy you so much and you annoy me, you just look cute like this." Jax looked at you, "Just shut up."

Before you could say anything, Jax was back in his normal outfit and looked happier than anything that it was over and before you could blink, you were back in the circus.

Jax quickly ran away, probably to his room. You were completely at peace with this last adventure, even though you now knew a lot about your friends and had shown Jax a little bit of your love for him. Now you could go to sleep, because a lot had happened today. Even if you don't have to sleep here.

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

[prettymfwrites]

Paige x teammate reader please! I beg of you 😭😔

Yessss babes 🙏🏾 this was sitting in my drafts sorry ❤

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

💙 Paige Bueckers x Female Teammate!Reader Headcanons

(ft. UConn Team Shenanigans)

(Not proofread)

🥺 Protective Paige Mode™

Paige is usually calm and goofy, but the second someone fouls you too hard or gets in your face during practice or a game?

> "Back off, that’s my girl."

She’ll walk up slowly, real chill, and stare until the message is received.

You once got shoved hard going for a layup and Paige didn't even let the ref finish their call before she was checking if you were okay.

> "You good? Need me to handle her?"

Teammates joke that when you fall, Paige gets to you before the trainers.

---

📱 TikTok Addict x TikTok Hater

You are obsessed with TikTok. Paige? Not so much.

But she somehow ends up in all your videos... reluctantly.

You’ll catch her coming out the locker room and be like,

> “Okay babe do this dance with me, just the first part.”

Paige: “Baby I got on slides and no rhythm, don’t do this to me.”

One time you did a TikTok where she had to lip sync Megan Thee Stallion and she gave up halfway through and said:

> “Nah I can’t be sexy on camera like that, mama, my mom gon’ see this.”

Aaliyah, Nika, and Ice Brady are your hype squad. They love watching Paige get roped in.

> Aaliyah: "PAIGE did you just do the body roll?? Who ARE you??"

Paige: "I was held at gun point."

---

💘 Nickname Central

Paige lives off the nicknames. You never hear her say your government name unless it’s something serious.

> "Pass me the water, pretty."

"Yo babe, you left your slides in my locker again."

"You seen my charger, mama? You always take mine."

She’ll casually call you “baby” in front of the team and then act confused when they’re teasing.

> Nika: “Oop, baby??”

Paige: “What? I got a baby. Y’all just mad.”

---

🏀 Practice & Locker Room Moments

During scrimmages, Paige will purposely switch teams if you’re dominating too much just to guard you.

> "Nah nah, I got her. No one else touch her. This is personal now."

You once smacked her butt after hitting a shot on her and she dramatically flopped like she was fouled, yelling:

> “Ref! Domestic!”

Paige leaves little notes in your locker on game days like:

> “Go off, pretty. I got rebound duty today if you start missing.”

---

🛋 Lazy Days and Social Media Chaos

Y’all do “get ready with me” TikToks before team events. Paige is in the background struggling to pick an outfit while yelling:

> “Babe, do I wear the hoodie or the other hoodie?”

You: “Neither. You’re wearing the sweater I picked.”

If you post a photo where she thinks you look too good, she’s in the comments:

> “Delete this rn before they start in the comments.”

And then texts: “You tryna make me fight air?? 😤”

---

💤 Post-Game Snuggles

After games, Paige likes to lie on your chest while you scroll on your phone. She pretends she hates the TikToks but lowkey enjoys watching you laugh.

> “You’re cute when you laugh, baby. Don’t change the vid yet.”

---

🏀 Jealous Paige at Practice

The gym echoed with sneakers squeaking and laughter as practice scrimmage started heating up. You’d been matched up against Jaylin, one of the newer players on the team, and let’s just say… she was being a little too friendly.

You hit a nice step-back three right in her face, and Jaylin smiled, holding her hands up.

“Okayyy, I see you,” she said, tapping your waist lightly. “We got a shooter on our hands.”

You laughed, brushing it off, not noticing the way Paige paused mid-dribble on the other side of the court.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

“Yo Nika,” she said slowly, still watching Jaylin, “Switch with me real quick.”

“Why?”

“I’ma guard Y/N.”

“But I’m—”

“Nika.”

“…Got it.”

You raised an eyebrow as Paige jogged over, sliding in front of you with that calm-but-lowkey-murderous expression she gets when she’s annoyed.

“Hi babe,” you grinned, dribbling toward her.

“Hey pretty,” she said, stealing the ball clean. “You flirtin’ today or just hoopin’?”

You snorted. “What?”

“Just wondering,” Paige replied, way too casually, passing the ball behind her back to Aaliyah. “You and Jaylin got some chemistry I ain’t know about?”

You stepped closer, grinning. “Ohhh, is someone jealous?”

“Jealous?” she tilted her head with a smirk. “Nah, I just think people need to keep their hands to themselves unless they paying rent.”

Aaliyah hollered from the sideline.

“NOT THE RENT LINE.”

Jaylin raised her hands. “My bad, Bueckers! I was just playin’.”

Paige nodded, smiling tight. “Play somewhere else.”

You covered your mouth to stop from laughing and leaned into her. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but I’m your ridiculous.” She winked. “Now come on, mama. I’m not lettin’ you score again unless you say I’m your favorite teammate.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Say it.”

“…Fine. You’re my favorite.”

“Louder for Jaylin in the back.”

“PAIGE!”

[snazzymolasses]

I mean there were both pros and cons to this.

I grew up in the 80s/90s and our parents had no fucking clue where we were for the entirety of the summer, as long as you were home before dark

There was incredible freedom, but we also got into a lot of dangerous shit that we really, really shouldn't have, and sometimes didn't get hurt out of sheer luck

Even as I kid, WHILE I was enjoying that freedom, I also felt kinda neglected? Like I WISHED my parents would care where I was? I mean we would say things like "Dude if we fell down in this hole right now, nobody would find us for DAYS" and it was very existential. Kinda both sides of the nihilistic coin- "Man, nothing matters :(" and "Man, nothing matters! :D"

I don't know the answer here or even if there is one, but at least for me I kinda wanted parents who would notice if I disappeared and would be able to find me, while also wanting to be able to go wherever I wanted at the same time.

This post also doesn't take into account electronic freedom, but it's probably a similar pattern.

90s kids had infinite electronic freedom because our parents didn't even know how to turn on a computer. I don't know how monitored kids are these days but I know it's more than "none", and I'm not sure how I feel about that, either.

[goquokka00]

Hiii! I love your work so much! I hope you’re doing well.

can I request Minho x reader. where Minho catches reader obsessing over his thighs. So he makes her ride is thighs and then fucks her?

Please don’t mind how horny this is😭

Oh I don't mind at all 😈

Lowkey I hope I did this request justice, it's not hard to drool over any of Stray Kids' thighs lol

Thigh Ride

Summary: Minho, being the very observant boyfriend he is, had noticed you staring at him from across the living room. Little did he know, you were looking at his thighs, silently drooling over them in your own world. But he'd soon know. They call him Lee Know for a reason, after all. And you were about to know, too.

Pairing: Minho X Reader (F!)

Genre: Smut (18+)

Warnings: dirty talk, degradation, thigh riding, a bit of nipple play, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it before you tap it, please!), Dom! Minho, creampie, cockwarming, Minho's a lot nicer at the end I promise, 100% 18+ (seriously like if you're a minor don't read pls and thank you <3)

Word Count: 1.7K

Minho caught you staring at him around 15 minutes ago.

The two of you were in your living room, each of you in your own worlds. Minho had been watching some show Jisung had gotten him into. And you had been drawing away on your iPad, occasionally scrunching your nose at something you didn't like, or reaching over to grab a sip of your water.

And from time to time, your eyes would drift over to your boyfriend. Minho was an observant man, and so it was hard for him to miss small details. The only thing he couldn't figure out was what your eyes were so entranced by.

It wasn't his face. If you were looking at his face, your eyes would look more dreamy...an idiot in love look, as Seungmin called it. It wasn't his chest, either. He was wearing a hoodie, there was no way it was that. That canceled out his arms, too. And as much as Minho loved having sex with you, he hoped it wasn't his crotch.

It didn't bother him at first, though. But it wasn't until Minho shifted and spread a bit more on the couch when he heard you shift as well. Your thighs rubbed together slightly, your tongue coming out to lick your lips.

Maybe it was his crotch.

Minho shifted his eyes to look at you, seeing how your gaze was cast down. And because Minho couldn't keep himself from teasing, he smirked, speaking up.

"Are you trying to will my dick to get hard?"

"Wh-What?" That got your attention. Your eyes looked at him, clearly shocked by what he said. And then, a pillow went flying towards him. Minho just laughed, hearing your voice scold him. "Minho! Don't say that!"

"Sorry, sorry! You were just staring at my crotch, so I just assumed that you were horny--"

"I wasn't staring at your crotch!"

"Yes you were!"

"I wasn't! I wasn't staring at anything!" You honestly didn't know why you said that. Minho didn't know why you said that, either. You knew just as well as him that he knew.

"You weren't, huh?" Minho just shrugged, looking back to the TV. "Whatever you say, my love."

You just shook your head, looking back to your iPad. You weren't aware that Minho was watching you closely through his peripheral vision, seeing you look back over at his lower body not even 2 minutes later.

You couldn't help it. Minho's thighs looked so...ride-able. The way that his jeans were pressed against his leg, the way that they sat against the couch while he was spread in that manspread position...god, you could feel yourself salivating. You just wanted to go over there and just--

"You're staring again." Fucking Minho. "You must seriously be craving to get fucked if you're staring at my crotch like that-"

"I told you, I'm not looking at your crotch."

"Then what are you looking at?"

"I'm not looking at anything." You blushed, looking back to your iPad. But Minho? He didn't like that answer.

"Oh, are we getting shy now?" Minho sat forward, making his thighs look that much better before narrowing his eyes slightly. It was like he was trying to pull your soul out of your body. "You don't get to be shy after staring at me like that. What were you looking at?"

And just like that, you had been caught red handed. Shit.

"I was looking at your thighs." You spoke softly, your voice barely carrying across the room. But Minho heard you. He heard you crystal clear.

"My thighs, huh?" He watched as you nodded, only to smirk. "Well, come take a closer look."

"What-"

"Sit." It wasn't a question. And you knew better than to disobey. You got up and walked over, letting him guide you onto his thigh. And the second you sat, Minho pulled you down for a kiss.

And while it surprised you, you kissed him back, melting into the kiss. Your arms naturally found their way around your neck, his hands gripping your waist just enough. And the second that you felt his tongue glide against yours, your hips moved against his thigh. It took less than a second for Minho to just barely pull away, his breath ghosting over your lips as he spoke.

"Gotcha." Fucking. Minho. "You actually got yourself worked up over my thighs...such a little slut, huh?"

"Min, don't-...I-I'm not-" And that was when you felt Minho press his thigh up against your clothed crotch, making you gasp.

Your clit was already so sensitive, and you were already so wet...it didn't help that you were in pajama shorts. Just pajama shorts. You had no panties on to give yourself a bit more coverage. And those pajama shorts? They were thin.

"You're such a little liar..." Minho's voice was raspy, low, sexy as hell. He knew exactly what to say to make you go crazy. He always did. "You and I both know that your slutty mind couldn't stay out of my pants...you've probably been wanting to hump my thigh like a bitch in heat."

He was right. You did. And the whine you let out as your hips moved against his thigh confirmed that.

"I fucking knew it..." And with that, Minho's grip tightened on your hips. "Ride it then."

"What-"

"Ride my thigh, just like the little slut you are." Minho's voice was still low, but it was harsh.

"B-But--"

"That wasn't a question, princess." You were stuck whether you liked it or not. You knew that. His grip was too tight for you to escape. And you'd be lying if you didn't want it. And so, you moved.

The fabric of your pajama shorts dug into your slit, rubbing against your clit just right to make you whine and shudder. And Minho's thigh curved just right to make it that much more comfortable. Not to mention how Minho would occasionally lift his thigh to press against your clothed pussy even more.

"M-Minho--"

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Minho just smirked, one of his hands slipping under your shirt to find your right nipple, pinching and pulling. You just cried out, your head going to his shoulder. "See, this is why you should just admit when you're horny instead of being a denying little brat. Then I wouldn't have to treat you like a slut."

And as he hissed those words, he tugged on your now hard nipple, making you cry out. You could feel the gush of your pussy, feel how your arousal gushed onto his thigh. Minho felt it, too. It's what got him to lose control.

"Fucking christ...get up."

"Hu-Huh--"

"Get. Up." With that, Minho lifted you up with one hand, his other going to his pants to undo them and get his cock out.

It didn't take him long to pull it out and pull your sleep shorts to the side, lining you up to him before pushing you down on his length. The only thing you could do was moan out pathetically. It was music to Minho's ears. The sweet beautiful sound only he could create.

"Fuck...tight..." But it didn't stop Minho from lifting you up again, only to thrust up into you, making you moan out and hug him close.

His pace was absolutely brutal. Each thrust made a slap, his pubic bone going right against your wet little clit, giving you more pleasure than you could've ever imagined. Not to mention how he used the full length of his dick, too. Not an inch was wasted.

It felt phenominal.

"God, you feel so fucking good..." Minho's arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. One went between your shoulders, the other went down so his hand could grip onto your ass to hold you in place. He was purely using you for your pleasure. You knew that. He knew that. You both knew that. But neither of you cared.

The only thing that mattered is that you were both feeling good. At least, that was what Minho thought. He was making his girl feel good, and he was feeling good because his girl was feeling good.

Well, your pussy was also tight and hugging his cock perfectly, occasionally clenching to make it tighter. But mostly the first reason.

Unfortunately, you were getting closer. Minho knew your signs. You were getting louder, your body was starting to shake, and your hands were grabbing at him.

"Minho, I-I'm gonna-"

"Wait..." Minho grunted his command, hearing your protesting whine. "I know, princess, I know, just--...fuck, I'm close, just a little more..."

If he was being honest, he didn't know why he asked you to wait. Probably because you could always get oversensitive, which meant you got whiny and shaky. But he also wanted to be the one to cum first. And that's what happened.

With a final thrust, Minho let out a groan as he exploded. And you weren't very far behind. The second you felt him come undone, you followed suit, your body trembling as Minho held you close, his cock buried deep inside of you.

"Easy, easy...deep breaths, I've got you..." Minho's demeanor changed up almost instantly, his hand running along your back as he talked you down, feeling your pant against his body. "You did so well, such a good job...take it nice and easy, beautiful..."

And with a few minutes, you slowly came back to reality. You now stayed up against Minho, sitting in his lap as his now soft dick rested within you.

"Feeling better?" Minho gently whispered into your ear, pressing soft kisses against your shoulder and neck. You nodded, nuzzling in closer to him. "Wanna get cleaned up? Or stay like this? Hm, baby?"

"Stay like this..."

"Alright..." Minho just smiled, happy and content, just like his girl.

How couldn't he be? He had you in his arms, tuckered out because of him. You had been thoroughly satisfied, and in turn you had satisfied him. And nothing, NOTHING, could ever interrupt this incredible moment between the two of--

"So...you have a thing for my thighs, huh?"

Lee. Fucking. Minho.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

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