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tsuy4n · 2 days ago

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The Artist Who Lives for the Plot

Warning/s: Fem!Reader, Mild language/swearing, still chaotic, teasing but that's just another word for verbal bullying, petty drama, reader still very much suffering (comically)

[A/n]: Okay, so apparently my calculations were off (nothing new to me) with how things are going and how much fun I'm writing the boys + [Y/n], this will become a short series!

Part 1, >Part 2<

Day 3: Five Failures, Zero Progress

You're on your way to work, absolutely dreading what lies ahead. Not the chores, not the endless hours of running errands, but them: The five walking demonic migraines with unholy cheekbones.

They were chaotic yesterday. All sharp grins and cryptic words, eyes gleaming like they knew something you didn’t.

What changed? You didn’t do anything. That, you're sure of. So why the hell are they suddenly breathing down your neck like you owe them your soul? (Which, considering who they are, might actually be on the table.)

Are they acting like this because you saw something you shouldn't have?

Like that concept. Was it supposed to be a secret? They didn’t react like you expected. No panic. No anger. Then again, you didn’t exactly study their expressions too hard. Priorities.

Still, the sight’s fresh in your mind. The holograms. The glowing golden eyes. That haunting yet stunning transformation. Whoever came up with that deserves a raise. You want those contacts. Seriously.

Focus. So what exactly did you do to earn their torment?

...Maybe their whole demon concept isn’t even a concept. Maybe it’s just them being themselves. It wouldn’t surprise you if they casually peeled off their skin one day and revealed horns underneath.

You’d arm yourself with holy water and crosses. Even if it doesn't work, at least you tried.

You sigh. The regular chaos of your job is already exhausting. You didn’t sign up to be personally targeted by five beautiful men with bad attitudes and possible hellspawn origins.

Still, you can’t deny the silver lining. Your last three chapters? A hit with your readers/audience.

With the extra income, rent is looking less like a nightmare and more like a minor inconvenience. You might even treat yourself to a pastry.

So, the plan for today is simple: Avoid them at all costs. Have another staff member deliver their water and lunch. Easy. Professional. Peaceful.

Elsewhere…

"She could be with Huntrix." Jinu mutters, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

"Or maybe she’s just weird." Baby says with a raised brow before flopping lazily into a chair. He's so convinced that you are.

Abby crosses his arms. "Or she’s spying for someone else. A lone agent." (He’s been watching too many shows)

Romance taps his chin thoughtfully. "Or a real artist, like she says. She does draw well for a spy."

Mystery, from where he’s crouched on the couch upside down, simply says, "What if she just takes her job seriously?"

The silence that follows is long. Suspiciously long.

Jinu sighs. "I'm sure you've all memorized the choreography enough. Let's take turns watching her and while you're at it, try to get that book. That'll help us clear this whole situation up."

At first, the boys think he’s giving them a free day. A chance to sleep. Eat. Breathe without glitter(?)

But he just kept speaking.

"So who wants to go first?" Jinu smiles, his teeth showing.

They groan in unison.

Instead of practicing, they spent the entire morning arguing over who goes first, then next, and all the way to the last. They eye each other like enemies before throwing down their hands in a dramatic round of rock, paper, scissors.

Mystery wins by default because he doesn’t even participate and somehow still gets the slot he wanted. Classic.

By lunch, they’ve just finalized the schedule when the rehearsal room door swings open.

"Hello! Here’s your lunch." A voice calls cheerfully causing for heads to whip toward the unfamiliar staff member.

"Where’s the other noona? The one who’s been bringing our food these last two days?" Baby asks politely all while flashing a disarming smile.

The staff member nearly swoons. "She asked me to take over today. Said she had errands."

Suspicious. They all thought.

Suspicious enough that the unlucky member with the first shift, Romance, rises like a man sentenced.

It doesn’t take Romance long to find you. A few smooth questions to the right people and a tilt of his smile does the trick.

He spots you sweeping the floor backstage, earbuds in, completely immersed in your own world, just vibing and enjoying your well-deserved peace not knowing it'll be disturbed within a minute.

Romance watches for a beat. Then two. There’s something about your concentration that makes him pause but it was only for a moment.

He approaches, hands in his pockets, leaning slightly with a soft, teasing smile. "Need help with that, darling? Or should I stand here and give you moral support while you sweep?"

You don't notice him at first, too focused or immersed and he noticed that because he took one of your earbuds off.

You thought at first it was a fellow staff member or maybe the manager but what you saw immediately made you scowl.

Really? It hasn't even been an hour!

Romance laughed at the expression you gave him, though he was clearly confused as to why you weren’t already swooning at his smile.

You snatched your earbud from his hand, brows furrowed. "You can help by not shedding glitter everywhere. That’d save me a lot of time."

He chuckled under his breath, undeterred. "Feisty. I like that."

You glanced at him, eyes narrowing like you were debating whether to smack that annoyingly symmetrical face with a broom.

Okay, maybe not the face. It was too reference-coded. But still. You’d aim for the shoulder.

"If you’re not gonna help, move. I’m on a schedule." You glared at him. Stupid pretty boys.

"So serious." He mused, but stepped aside anyway... only to linger. Watching. Following. Breathing near you like some sparkly parasite.

At one point, you dropped the broom to pick up a fallen costume prop: a foam trident.

You didn’t even look at him, too wrapped in your own world as you twirled it absentmindedly like some battle-hardened warrior preparing to train.

Romance watches, both amused and... vaguely alarmed. That twirl was a little too natural that he forgot about getting something.

When he felt like he's been following her for hours, he returned to the others and he doesn’t even flinch when Abby asks, "So? How'd it go?"

"I couldn't get it." Romance's answer made them sigh. They did honestly think it’ll only take him to get that book (sketchbook).

He didn't tell them about forgetting the original agenda, only that, "She was practicing how she’ll strike us. With a trident."

"What?!" Jinu chokes on his drink as he immediately thought, What kind of a human owns a trident? What the hell are you.

"What kind of trident?" Mystery asks calmly with a little tilt of his head.

"Foam." Romance replied so seriously. "She spun it like she meant business. And also called me a walking arts-and-crafts hazard."

They exchanged glances. Why didn't he choose to say the 'foam' part first? And what was that him being a walking arts thing...?

Failure #1

Baby’s turn begins with him stuffing his pockets with snacks. If he was going to tail someone, he might as well do it on a full stomach.

He finds you in one of the dressing rooms, sorting wigs and costume pieces into bins. It's boring work, but you're doing it with focus, just enough for Baby to slip into the room quietly.

Too quietly.

He slinks around, crouched low like some stealth agent, until he accidentally knocks over a mannequin arm. It hits the floor with a loud clack.

You jump. So does he.

Your eyes narrow instantly when you see him. "Why are you crouching like that?"

Baby straightens up and shrugs, trying to play it cool. "Stretching. Back pain. Old injury."

You look him up and down, unconvinced because you should be the one saying that. He's acting like it wasn't just yesterday that he was messing with you by littering all the things you just cleaned up, like some fucking cat.

"Huh, this box? Woops! I’m so sorry, noona." That’s exactly what he’d say, eyes wide and fake-innocent, like some baby deer with unresolved mischief issues.

And every time he said it, it made your skin crawl.

Not because of the word itself. No, you could handle "noona." You weren’t even that much older.

Actually, you were pretty sure you were the same age as him, maybe even younger than some of the others. But Baby said it with that tone.

That smug, cheeky little lilt that made it feel less like respect and more like a personal attack.

You did find him cute. Objectively.

But his whole existence had the chaotic energy of someone who knew he was cute and used it for evil.

And unfortunately for him, charm loses its effectiveness when paired with the urge to throw him out a window.

And here he is, grinning mischievously. "You know, your work ethic is really inspiring. Sorting wigs with that kind of passion? Sexy."

You squint at him like you're debating whether to hit him with the mannequin arm or the whole stand. That sounds so good, so self-healing after what you went through.

You felt like an old woman trying to crack her back when walking.

You let out a sigh through your nose before continuing on with doing your task while Baby walks closer.

You glance at him. "You remind me of my friend’s cat. Always knocking things over and demanding attention."

Before he can respond, you pat his head, scratch gently under his chin, and walk past him like he’s just another prop to fix the mannequin's arm back in.

He’s frozen. Processing.

A full minute later, he’s still standing there, blinking and you're already done with the tasks here in the room.

"I’m not wasting precious brain cells on a live-action reminder that pretty doesn’t mean functional." You raise a brow at him while picking up a box. "Unlike you all, who have so much free time to pester me, I'm busy doing my actual job."

Baby finally snapped out of it when he saw you step out though before taking your leave completely, he heard you speak again in a demanding tone like you were a parent warning its 7 year old naughty kid.

"Go back to your little posse, alley cat." You said, eyes half-lidded as you smirked. "Don’t you have hair to flip and raccoons to fight behind a 7-Eleven?"

Back at the room, Baby slumps onto the couch with a huff. What happened repeated in his head like a player.

"She called me a cat. Not in a hot, aloof way, but a stray." He then adds, "Like the kind that gets into turf wars with raccoons behind a 7-Eleven.”

That was what all he reported to the others earning funny stares, plus a disappointed but intrigued Jinu.

Like Romance, he didn’t even get to ask about the damn book. He didn't actually had any chance to use half of his charms because one moment you're being playful then next you're roasting him like a bunch of coffee beans.

He may have forgot his original goal, at least he now has something new and that is swearing to make you swoon just like those other simple humans.

And that he agreed with his pink haired friend, who was the 1st victim.

Failure #2

You felt being watched. No, actually you 'are' being watched but by who?

You looked around, scanning the storage room. Empty. Still. Dusty. Dim. So either someone was lurking, or this place was haunted and your will to live had just expired on the spot.

You took one cautious step toward the door.

And then, Mystery appeared from behind a shelf like a summoned spirit. Just standing there. Silent.

"Shibal—!"

You jumped so hard you slipped, tripped over a box, and crashed to the floor in a glorious symphony of clatter and cardboard.

Mystery blinked then tilted his head slightly. "You startle easily."

You coughed once, sneezed from the dust, then squinted through a half-hearted glare. "You appeared like a ghost."

No apology. Not even a hand to help you up. Just that unreadable face and deadpan tone, like he wasn’t the reason you were now covered in packing peanuts and shame.

Though, his gaze didn’t seem malicious...just mildly unsettling. You were 85% sure he was judging you from under all that hair.

You pushed yourself up with a sigh, brushing off your pants like your pride hadn’t just taken a fatal blow.

But of course he didn’t. You’d already finished cleaning up. Again. You cleaned things up a lot these days, thanks to a certain someone and his espresso-fueled vendettas.

You turned your head to glare at Mister Human Equivalent of Dead Air, who blinked slowly. Unbothered. Possibly proud.

"You’re worse than the cockroach I found in the kitchen yesterday."

He hummed, completely unfazed. "Cockroaches don’t scream."

Unbelievable.

"Do you guys have a group chat where you plan this? Like, ‘let’s go bother the new hardworking staff girl’?" Your arms were crossed, your expression demanding answers.

"Book." Was all he said in return.

You blinked. Your brain lagged like bad Wi-Fi. What book?

And is that really all he had to say after standing there for a solid thirty minutes in monk-level silence?

"The one you always have your nose in." He added after a beat, still blank-faced. At least that's what you feel.

"...Is this whole bothering-me thing about that?"

He nodded once. You call bullshit—but also, maybe there’s hope?

"You mean my sketchbook?"

Another nod. You stared at him. Did this guy have a word quota? Was he conserving syllables for his vocal lines?

"If I gave you that, would all of you stop pestering me?"

He didn’t answer. At least not immediately. Just stood there, matching your stare, the silence stretching between you like a rope ready to snap.

You sighed, then gave him a smile. And for one brief, shimmering second, Mystery thought he’d won. Maybe you liked him best.

Maybe you had a thing for the quiet ones—the cryptic, brooding types who linger like ghost drafts in haunted castles.

Jinu did say people had different tastes in idols. Like food—

"No."

...Or not.

Silence dropped again, thick as concrete, before you squinted and spoke.

"What makes you think I’d entrust something of mine to you, or any of you?" you asked. "If you’re all worried I’m drawing you in ‘suspicious’ ways, don’t flatter yourselves. You’re just references."

You stomped past him with all the grace of a woman wronged, then spun back on your heel.

"Actually, scratch that. You should be worried." You jabbed a finger in his direction. "I will draw all of you in suspicious ways. And when you debut? I’ll post it."

You narrowed your eyes. As always, it was impossible to tell what Mystery was thinking, but that didn’t matter. You were confident.

You were an artist. You had the power to draw this stupid boyband making out with each other in watercolor and full shading without feeling an ounce of shame.

They, however, would never recover.

"You better think twice about bothering me now! Tell them that." Then you ran, like a child who knew they’d just poked a beehive and needed to disappear before the stingers caught up.

Back with the group, Mystery returned and stood in front of the others.

"So?" Jinu asked, arms crossed. Behind him, Romance and Baby leaned in, already bracing themselves. Whatever you’d said must’ve rewired something.

Maybe broke a few brain cells on the way out.

"She organizes her materials very efficiently." Mystery said, nodding like he was delivering critical intel to a war council.

Romance blinked. "That’s what you got?"

Baby, now sprawled across the couch with a juice box, snorted. "Told you."

Jinu pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you at least get the sketchbook?"

Mystery shook his head.

Of course not.

Jinu sighed. At this point, he wasn’t sure if they were failing—or if you were simply immune to all known forms of charm, charisma, and supernatural bullshit.

Romance muttered something about foam weapons. Baby muttered something about alley cats.

And somewhere in the room, a collective ego quietly combusted.

Failure #3.

You volunteered to run an errand. A simple supply run. A chance to breathe.

Sure, you had your suspicions that the boys were taking turns tailing you. Mystery had confirmed it earlier with a thirty-minute silent staring contest that ended in zero answers.

Romance tried to flirt like he’d read one too many bad webtoons. Baby? You mistook him for a stray cat and nearly offered him tuna.

So today? You were ready. You had an escape. Or so you thought...

You regretted everything the second you stepped outside. Why? Because the universe sent you Abby.

Of course, it had to be him. The walking thirst trap of the group.

The one with annoyingly perfect hair, annoying abs, and the kind of face that probably got sculpted by the devil himself on a good day. Because of course.

He was walking beside you like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t single-handedly making people turn their heads from left to right.

And don’t even get started on his stupid shirt. Why the hell is it riding up every few minutes?

Is the universe trying to humble you?

Is nature in on this too? That one breeze that made his shirt lift just enough to show off those abs? It wasn’t a coincidence. That was a divine betrayal.

And of course, he saw you staring. He smirked.

"I saw that." He says, voice low and smug. "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

You groan. "I was looking at the crime against fashion you’re wearing."

He places a hand dramatically on his chest. "You wound me."

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly gives you vertigo. Still, this… wasn’t the worst. At least they weren’t swarming you like yesterday. With them taking turns now, it was more manageable.

"You know," Abby starts, hands behind his head as you walk down the street together, "I think I should be the one to keep you company more often. You seem calmer with me. Maybe even a little... interested."

You stop walking and give him the most deadpan look you can muster. "I was calm because I thought I was alone."

Ouch

But Abby, as always, doesn’t take the loss. He leans closer, lowering his sunglasses with a grin. "Come on, just give me the sketchbook. You like me the most, right?"

You tilt your head and pretend to consider it. "Let’s see..."

Then you dramatically slap a hand over your heart.

"Oh no." You gasp sarcastically. "My deepest secret! How did you know I fall for guys who flex their abs at me like it’s still 2012 Tumblr?"

That gets a crack in his confident grin. Inside, he's genuinely confused. What does that mean??

You pat his arm like you're speaking to someone tragically misguided. "Listen, I’ve drawn more abs than I’ve touched in real life. Yours aren’t special. They’re just... reference material."

Abby chokes on nothing. "Reference material?!"

You give him a cheeky smile. "Yeah. The kind I toss into the 'basic male idol' folder."

You start walking again, casually leaving him in the dust. He stands there, looking scandalized.

Back at the dorm, he slumps into the chair dramatically, hand over his heart.

"She called me basic, and made me carry everything." He mutters, defeated and tired just like the last 2 (Baby & Romance) who returned earlier.

"So she didn’t give you the sketchbook?" Jinu asks, already knowing the answer.

Abby sighs, deeply. "I think she drew a whole new character in her mind just to insult me."

Failure #4

That leaves Jinu, their last hope of getting that sketchbook before the day ends.

"We're counting on you, lead~!" Baby teased with a grin too smug for his own good. His voice dipped into mock aegyo as he winked.

The beef he had with Jinu wasn’t subtle; something about being 'the cute one' when he’d rather be anything else.

It didn’t help that Jinu never really fought back, just smiled like he had better things to do than argue with someone who collected Hello Kitty bandaids.

You, meanwhile, were clocking out. Finally.

Work was done. The sun was down. The universe had tested your patience in every possible way. A hot bath and unconsciousness were the only plans on your mind until he showed up.

"Happy that work’s over, huh?"

You didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

"Obviously." You huffed then rolled of your eyes. "Wouldn’t you be if a bunch of demon-spawn kept finding new ways to test your will to live?"

"…Is that a general insult or something more specific?"

His question made you gave him a look like you were hinting at the obvious.

"Fair." He said with a chuckle.

He walked beside you without asking. Just far enough not to be annoying. Just close enough to be impossible to ignore.

“Wanna grab dinner?”

You blinked then gave him a side-eye. "What makes you think I’d say yes? Is this another one of your weird group rituals where someone jumps out of a trash can to scare me?"

"I said dinner, not a prank war. It’s my treat." He said, hands up in mock surrender. "No one else will be there. Consider it… an apology. For the chaos they’ve put you through."

You raised a brow. "And you’re suddenly the nice one?"

"I never said that," He replied smoothly. "But I do know when to offer compensation."

You thought about it. He hadn’t stepped in earlier, sure, but maybe he wasn’t completely awful. And free food was free food.

You were broke, your fridge was empty, and a meal you didn’t have to cook yourself was a rare form of heaven.

So you said yes.

The place he brought you to wasn’t flashy. A quiet diner tucked away from the noise. Warm lights. Old booths. You ordered too much and pretended not to care.

"You know," Jinu said mid-meal. "I kind of expected you to throw your drink in my face."

"You still might deserve it," You said between bites. "Depends how this conversation goes."

He smiled, his chin resting on his hand as he watched you. You noticed, of course. But instead of reacting, you stayed calm, indifferent, even.

As if you weren’t being quietly studied by a man who looked like he'd walked off a runway.

"You always like this?" You asked with a raised brow. "Weirdly smooth one second, annoying the next?"

He smirked at you. "It’s a learned skill. Keeps people guessing."

"You’re not that hard to figure out." You deadpanned with a slight tilt of your head. "You’re probably the most normal one out of your group. Still a menace, though."

Jinu laughed. Just the short type. "That almost sounded like a compliment."

You stared at him then replied in a monotonous voice, "It wasn’t."

He chuckled, and the conversation settled into something surprisingly... normal.

Eventually, you talked about things you didn’t usually mention to strangers—about the pressure of pretending, of being exhausted all the time and not knowing how to admit it.

About how expectations from others wear you down until all you want to do is disappear.

At some point, maybe out of tired habit or plain honesty, you even muttered something about 'your demons whispering to you late at night.' You meant it figuratively, of course.

But the way Jinu blinked once, slow and calculating made you wonder if he thought otherwise. Like you’d just triggered something serious.

He didn’t ask. Just nodded and let it go. But you caught it: the subtle shift in his gaze, that flicker of recognition. Whatever he was thinking, it didn’t feel like nothing.

Still, he listened. Not with empty nods, but like he got it. Not everything, but enough.

And... that felt nice. It's been a while since you had someone to talk to about things you can relate. Your friends were busy and when they try to invite you to hangout, you're the one who has a pack sched instead.

When you got home later that night, sketchbook still tucked away where no one would ever find it, you let yourself sink into bed and stared at the ceiling.

Maybe Jinu wasn’t so bad. Not like the rest of his chaos crew. He's become 'just alright guy' to you.

Meanwhile, Jinu returned to the place they all stayed while living in the human world—a sleek apartment tucked above the city skyline, equal parts expensive and lived-in.

The others were scattered across the living room, feigning disinterest while clearly listening.

Abby was the first to ask. "So? How’d yours go?"

Jinu kicked off his shoes and shrugged, hands in his pockets. "No sketchbook. But I think she let her guard down."

That got their attention.

"She’s easier to talk to when you’re not pushing her buttons. Maybe try not teasing her to death next time." He added, giving Romance a pointed glance though his eyes definitely slid to Abby and Baby too.

Not that any of those three looked the least bit guilty.

Baby made a dramatic noise of betrayal when he realized something, his eyes squinting. "So you’re the favorite now?"

Jinu didn’t rise to it. Just smiled, smug even.

"If we earn even a little of her trust, that book’s as good as ours."

And judging by the way he looked quietly satisfied, it was clear their leader had a plan—and maybe, just maybe, it was already working.

Failure #5 (losers)

Day 4: Pretty Privilege Denied

At the rehearsal room...

"This is such a pain." Baby groaned as he dramatically flopped backwards onto the couch like he’d just carried the entire K-pop industry on his back. "Why can’t we just take the stupid sketchbook already?"

He tossed a bag of chips across the room. It missed the trash can by a full foot. No one corrected him.

"Right?" Abby stretched his arms behind his head, flashing abs like it was part of the punctuation. "We’re wasting time doing solo missions. What if we all just... I dunno, ask at once? Overwhelm her with our combined perfection."

Romance was already nodding, a smirk playing at his lips. "Like an idol intervention."

Mystery, curled on the floor beside the couch, mumbled faintly, "She’ll resist. She always resists."

"Because you just stood there and stared at her for thirty minutes." Baby snapped with a roll of his eyes. "That’s not a plan, that’s a horror movie."

"I was being... silent but effective." Mystery defended weakly, hugging a pillow with the dead-eyed conviction of a man who hadn’t blinked in an hour.

Baby didn’t bother looking at him. He just sighed and reached for his lip tint, applying it with a kind of weary elegance that suggested everyone else in the room was the problem.

"I don’t get why you all can’t just manipulate her like normal people." Baby muttered, popping a strawberry flavored lollipop in his mouth.

Like a fucking Bond villain in silk pajamas.

He next adds, "Look adorable, be sweet, and wait. She’ll fold eventually. Humans are weak to affection and eye contact."

Romance blinked. "You think this is adorable?"

"I think this is inefficient." Baby said flatly, glancing at his nails like he was bored of everyone's incompetence. "She clearly likes attention. She breathes like someone who wants to be perceived."

Abby froze mid-sip of his fruit shake. "You said that out loud."

"Good." Baby replied, unbothered, swiping through his front camera to check his angles. "I hope the wind carries it to her. Maybe it’ll reach her ego first."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"…You scare me sometimes." Abby muttered, rubbing the back of his neck like he was rethinking his life choices.

Jinu, to no one’s surprise, wasn’t in the room for this beautifully misguided planning session. He was allegedly "doing leader things," which in practice meant "ignoring all of them for his own sanity."

Which meant the rest of them were unsupervised.

Because in the next five minutes, fueled by ego, caffeine, and deep, mutual frustration, they came up with the worst idea possible:

"We’ll confront her together," Romance declared, sparkles practically glinting in his eyes. Mischief, too.

"Like a sketchbook heist?" Abby grinned. They high-fived, because of course they did.

"No," Baby corrected, sitting upright like a cat that’d just heard a can opener. "Like a coordinated idol strike."

Mystery nodded solemnly. "A synchronized emotional ambush."

"…That’s literally just stalking in unison." Someone muttered upon realization but no one listened. Not that it even mattered to beings like them.

And with that, four immortals in idol skin decided to do what no sane being should ever attempt: gang up on one overworked staff girl who already hated their collective existence.

Because why not? What could possibly go wrong?

Somewhere...

Jinu had always known patience was the real game. You don’t survive four centuries being impulsive. So when his members started treating [Y/n] like a raid boss with a lootable sketchbook, he didn’t intervene.

He watched. Waited. Calculated. And then last night happened.

Dinner wasn’t supposed to go that well. He figured she’d make it halfway through the meal, throw a napkin in his face, and storm out. But she didn’t. She talked.

And somewhere between the second plate and her muttering about "demons whispering at night," something in him stilled. That wasn’t normal small talk. And it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.

She either didn’t realize what she said, or she did, and didn’t care. Either way, Jinu recognized the weight of it. The strange, dangerous truth humming just beneath her words.

So yeah. He was interested now. Not just in the sketchbook. In her.

Which is why, this morning, he changed tactics.

She’d let her guard down. That meant it was time to keep her guessing. Balance the scale. Tip it, just enough to rattle her.

Cue: pettiness mode.

She thought last night was a truce? Fine. Let her believe that. Then let her walk face-first into his brand of passive-aggressive hell. Just enough to make her question herself. Her instincts. Him.

If they were going to win this sketchbook war, she needed to be off-balance. And Jinu was going to enjoy every second of it.

So when he saw her coming down the sidewalk with coffee in hand, face still half-asleep and blessedly peaceful, he held the door open.

Then let it close. Right as she reached it. Perfect.

...

You were already tired.

Not physically—not yet. Just spiritually. Which was impressive, given the day had barely started.

But then again, surviving a full shift surrounded by glitter-dusted demon boys could rattle anyone’s soul.

Still. Today would be different. It had to be.

You saw the studio door ahead, sweet salvation in view, and picked up your pace.

And then, of course. It was him.

Jinu. Holding the door like he was doing you a favor. Like he hadn’t spent last night pretending to be a decent person.

He let it shut before you even touched the handle.

It was official. The man had a switch, and you were done trying to figure out which position it was stuck on. You stopped. Stared, then narrowed your eyes as the door clicked shut with smug finality.

Why the hell was he acting like this now?

Maybe he’d decided to be just as unbearable as his idiot members. Or maybe he realized being nice wasn’t getting him your sketchbook.

Or maybe, just maybe, he woke up and chose violence. With iced coffee.

What happened last night? Too good to be true. You were stupid to think otherwise.

Jinu turned his head, smiling like a summer villain in a drama. "Oh? I thought you weren’t coming. My bad."

Your eye twitched as you smiled politely. Violence is a choice. "You saw me walking straight here."

"I see a lot of things." He said vaguely, stepping inside and letting the door stay closed behind him.

You yanked it open with more force than necessary after tapping your id and followed him in, already regretting clocking in today. If HR asked why the break room window was shattered later, this was why.

You tried to brush it off. Keep walking. You had your sketchbook in hand, a long list of things to prep, and exactly zero energy to spare on whatever weird game he was playing now.

And then—

"Good morning, hardworking staff member," Jinu said with the fakest earnestness you’d ever heard, falling into step beside you. "Did you sleep well on your commoner bed?"

You stopped in your tracks, your mouth agape while your brain buffered.

"…What," You said slowly, letting the words drag like a system error. "What did you just say to me?"

Was flabbergasted the right word? Because honestly, that didn’t even scratch the surface. You were spiritually winded. Like you’d just been slapped with a Gucci slipper made of pure ego.

Jinu, the absolute menace, took a delicate sip of his artisanal coffee and smiled. That same saintly, beatific smile that made you want to throw a chair.

"I heard those floor mattresses are terrible for your posture."

You blinked at him. Hard. "You think I sleep on the floor?"

He raised a brow, so effortlessly smug. "Don’t you?"

Oh, okay. So this was the level of unhinged we were on today.

You stared at him, soul leaving your body one judgmental breath at a time. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with all of them? Did they audition to be idols or audition to test your will to live?

Because right now, you were genuinely convinced the universe had assigned you to a group of sleep-paralysis demons with backup dancer skills.

He stared back, calm and composed, like the human embodiment of a rice paper screen: pretty, delicate, and annoyingly hard to punch without consequences.

The silence stretched long enough for you to seriously consider hitting him with your sketchbook.

You turned and walked faster. He followed. He wasn’t done.

"You know," He said, all airy and unbothered, "I heard stress causes wrinkles. You might want to be careful."

"Great." You deadpanned. "Can I borrow your skincare then? I assume it’s made from crushed angel wings and virgin moonlight."

He laughed softly. Like you were joking. You were not.

You reached your desk, set your things down with a sigh, and frowned. Your pencil bag wasn’t where you left it.

You squinted and searched. There it was, off to the right by a few inches. You didn’t leave it like that. You were sure.

"…Did someone move my stuff?"

Behind you, Jinu shrugged with the grace of a lying cat. "Maybe the ghosts like you."

You turned slowly, narrowed your eyes. He was already walking away, sipping his cursed latte like he hadn’t just kicked your entire sense of peace in the kneecaps.

And the worst part? You knew this wasn’t even the peak of his pettiness. This was the prelude. The overture. The trailer before the disaster film.

You swore if he did this one more time, you were going to draw him as a worm in a luxury bathrobe. And that was being generous.

Dear god.

You tried to hide.

Not from your work, that would be irresponsible, but from the boyband plague that had decided to infest every corner of your daily life like glitter-coated cockroaches with jawlines.

Storage room? Mystery was already inside when you flicked the light on, calmly leaning against a shelf like he was part of the cleaning supplies.

You screamed and that earned a few pair of eyes from fellow staff members to see what's happened while Mystery just blinked.

Just fucking that. Like he wouldn't be the reason for you having a heart attack at such a young age.

"I was just watching the broom." He said solemnly.

Deja vu.

Toilet break? You exited the staff restroom to find Romance waiting by the door with a smile so charming it should’ve been a crime.

"Did you miss me?" He asked with a little tilt of his head. How cute. Like that was supposed to work on you.

You stared back, deadpan. "Did you follow me to the bathroom?"

"No." He said too fast. Then added, "I was just… in the area."

You folded your arms, unimpressed. "Of the women’s restroom?"

"…Geographically."

You shook your head then walked past him. He followed. Damn it.

Lunch break? You were five feet from the vending machine when Abby materialized from nowhere, leaned casually against it, and held out a protein bar.

"Hungry?" He asked with a wink.

You stared, the same dead-eyed stare you gave Romance. At this point, you were immune. Beyond exhausted. Somewhere between "please stop" and "God, just smite me."

"Are you seriously trying to flirt with trail mix?"

He grinned. Handsome bastard #3. "It’s high in fiber."

You almost growled at him like a fucking wolf. "I hate you."

Coffee break? You escaped the building. You escaped the chaos. You made it to your favorite shop. You ordered your drink, basked in a moment of peace.

You shouldn't have turned around.

"Hi." Jinu said, already holding out a matching iced Americano.

You didn’t blink. Yeah, at this point you wouldn't even be surprised if you suddenly moved countries and their striking asses are 'suddenly' there, too.

Which leads you to a thought: Are they even after your sketchbook or other things? Did they fall for you and became obsessed with you like in those webtoons?

Pfft. Yeah, right. You must've lost it there for a second.

You blankly stared at Mister royalty-wannabe. What he said about your bed being a commoner's really got to you. It looks like you weren't the only one who can burn people like toast.

Jinu watches you space out. Poor you, not that he actually cares and that smile on his stupidly handsome face was enough to tell a tale.

"I’ll trade you this premium Americano for a peek at your sketchbook." He offered smoothly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You stared him down then reached out, took the coffee from his hand, and said in a monotone voice: "Thanks."

He didn't see the smirk on your face as you walked away, simply enjoying your drink. Ah, it feels good to taste victory. An expensive one at that.

Meanwhile Jinu just stood there, betrayed.

"That was a limited roast." He muttered to which you heard as you raised the drink like a trophy.

No peace. No privacy. And definitely no sanity.

But if they thought this was going to make you fold, they were sorely mistaken.

You had pens, paper, and spite.

Let them try.

Later that day, the practice room was supposed to be empty.

Keyword: supposed.

You walked in with your sketchbook tucked under your arm and your emotional shields fully charged, only to freeze when you saw them. All of them.

Oh, god. The dread. The disgust. The divine urge to U-turn right back out the door. As much as you liked the sights of their faces, you could go one fucking day without seeing them.

There were other inspirations in the world, like sewer rats. Or tax documents.

You looked at them, judging, and they could tell. Your judgment wasn’t subtle. It had volume. Weight. A spiritual glare.

Romance on the window sill like a tragically bored novel character. Baby draped over the couch like a spoiled cat who owned the lease.

Abby standing behind the couch, peering over Baby’s shoulder and silently judging whatever cursed content he was watching.

Mystery sitting upside down in a chair like a sentient cryptid. And Jinu by the mirror, sipping coffee and watching like a smug, beautiful stage mom directing chaos.

You stared. They stared back.

"…What." You said flatly.

Baby was first to speak, tossing you his best faux-innocent smile. "We just wanted to hang out."

You squinted. "All five of you. In one room. Together. Unscheduled."

Baby was first to speak, tossing you his best faux-innocent smile. "We just wanted to hang out.”

You squinted. "All five of you. In one room. Together. With no cameras. No choreo. No staff instructions. Just… existing?"

They didn’t reply.

"Unscheduled." You repeated with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, see, that’s what’s throwing me off. You people only move in packs when someone tells you to."

"Team-building." Abby states with a charming grin. "Very healthy. Builds trust."

Romance stretched like he was auditioning for the villain role in a romance anime. "Or maybe we were hoping for a little sketchbook time."

"Denied." You answered immediately. Yeah, you saw that coming, even smelled it.

Mystery didn’t move from his bat-like perch. "I brought snacks."

You looked at him. "They’re pocket mints."

"They’re shareable."

Yep you turned toward the exit. You aren't gonna waste another energy, but Jinu stepped forward and casually leaned on the doorframe. Blocking it.

"Leaving so soon?" He said, calm and smug and, unfortunately, gorgeous. You don't know how many times you called them all those words inside your head. "We haven’t even started the icebreaker."

But of course no matter how good looking they are, they still continue to test your sanity. With that said, your eye twitched for the nth time.

"What is this, a hostage situation?" You looked him up and down, and he felt you judge him.

"That depends." Romance hummed with a grin. "Are you willing to negotiate?"

Baby pouted, still trying that method of acting cute. "We just want a peek."

"You’ve been studying us." Abby chimed in. "Seriously. We can feel it."

"We’d like to see your... interpretations." Romance added, clearly trying to sound seductive. You gave him a withering look. He faltered for half a second. "Strictly for performance critique purposes."

You let the silence stretch, then slowly opened your sketchbook... just an inch. It was cute but mostly funny on how their eyes lit up.

Then you snapped it shut.

"No." You said with a condescending smile like some typical villainess.

"Cruel." Jinu muttered with a huff.

Baby groaned dramatically, flopping back. "Why won’t you just let us see it?"

"Because it’s mine." You said, backing toward the wall. "And because I know you’ll cry."

Romance scoffed. "I don’t cry."

"You cried when your contact lens flipped inside out." Abby pointed out with a little laugh.

"Emotional trauma." Romance said with dignity. He was quick with his reply. Being on those little screens paid off.

Jinu tilted his head, still blocking the door. "This all could’ve been avoided, you know. Back when we were being nice."

You narrowed your eyes. "You smiled at me one time and then threw a door in my face."

"I smiled twice." He corrected. "That’s effort."

You sighed, dramatically and soulfully. "This is what I get for not calling in sick."

They inched closer, slowly closing in like a very attractive zombie horde.

Then you raised your sketchbook like a weapon and said, "Another step and I swear to God I’ll post the ‘Abby Cries at Pixar’ spread online."

Everyone froze.

"…You wouldn’t." Abby whispered.

"Try me." That wasn't a challenge. That was the truth. You'd do anything for this war.

Behind him, Mystery was already reaching for his phone. "I’d retweet it."

Abby narrowed his eyes at him. "You traitor."

Eventually, Jinu sighed and stepped aside. "You win this round."

You smiled and gave his shoulder a pat. "You mean all rounds."

And with that, you walked out like the final boss of their lives—sketchbook clutched tight, peace restored (for now), and your petty revenge arc stronger than ever.

Sketchbook Status: Untouched.

Artist Mood: Petty

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys #female reader #reverse harem #saja boys x reader #reader insert

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sparrowwithaquill · 10 hours ago

Text

Pt 2 of Popstar!Reader x Saja Boys

Here's part one!

Summary: It’s been months since you first met the boys with them rising in popularity and you coming back from your hiatus you hardly have time to spend with them, but when you finally do you find them hungry for something more than fame.

A/N: y’all gave so much attention to my first post omg I was not expecting it to gain that much attention 😭 here you go my lovelies. Listening to pied piper while writing this was heavenly

Word count: 2.2k

Part 3 will include smut! Please be patient with me, I've been busy with work and some personal issues.

Tag list: @floredaqueen @bleufu1 @brights-place @crescent-z @gremlinartstudio @xiaopeepee @puppyminnnie @ri-eveowe @calmmell @lysira340

“Ah I’m exhausted!”

Another successful dance practice, it’s been months since you first met the Saja Boys and it’s been wonderful!

They’ve grown so much in such a short amount of time, they have their own fan base, have done variety shows, the even have their own light sticks! The only problem is that you’ve hardly had any time to see them with your own concerts and shows and it’s starting to weigh on you a bit.

You’re sure you’ll be able to see them again, in person that is. You’ve been messaging them as often as you can so it hasn’t been completely unbearable.

You currently find yourself in your practice room, shirt off, sports bra on and flat on the floor with your shorts on. The comfiest you can be in a hot room. You get your next song set up and ready to go on the speakers when you hear a knock on the door, you let the music play out as you open the door to be greeted by the Saja Boys.

“Guys! Oh my goodness! Come here,” you hug the nearest one, that being romance who eagerly takes in the hug and leaves one arm wrapped around your shoulder, with a smug grin that you’re unable to see.

“I haven’t seen you all in so long! Sometimes I really hate my schedule,” you complain but now getting a burst of energy, you’re oblivious to the stares that are thrown your way. Not really at you, more at the arm around your shoulder, they can feel coils wrapping in their chest, hot and blistering at wanting it to be their own.

You remain unknown to their feelings as you’re bringing them into the practice room, eager to speak with them after it being so long. Thank goodness you were just practicing by yourself so you don’t have to worry about your wonderful backup dancers having to wait for you!

The boys make themselves comfortable as you walk through the room after closing the door.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you guys! I was just practicing a bit before you knocked, what’s going on?”

The boys were in various seating position, Mystery sitting on the floor next to Baby who was sucking on a lollipop. Romance was leaning against the wall staring in your direction while Jinu and Abby were near the speaker that was still playing music.

You pause the song to better pay attention to the boys, but Jinu just shook his head.

“Just wanted to see our favorite girl, you can keep practicing, pretend we’re not here,” Jinu smiles at you while you give a nervous smile.

You’re happy to see them but this particular song you were gonna… choose a position, well it should be fine right? You smile and rewind the song pausing it before going back to practicing.

“Only if you’re sure…” you nervously smile, giving him a last chance.

Abby just shakes his head at you, “yes we’re sure, princess.”

Oh he does not know what that does to you, a shiver goes down your spine as you sigh before turning back to the mirror in front of you. The layout of the room lets it so that there’s one floor to ceiling mirrored wall which you’re dancing in front of. The boys being leaned up against the wall in the back, letting you see the boys as you start dancing and singing along to the song.

“Don’t have to tell your hot ass a thing, oh yeah you just get it.”

Baby looks up from his phone as Romance nudges him with his foot.

“Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit, God bless your dad’s genetics, mm,” you sing, missing the way that the boys eyes darken at the verse, but do catch the way they seem to be watching you a bit more intently as your eyes quickly flit away. Gotta stay professional.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love, oh, late at night I’m think ‘bout you, ah.”

The boys are thoroughly enjoying the performance, Abby’s gaze watching the way your hips move, Mystery letting his eyes watch your legs. Jinu looks you up and down as you sing, “Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs? Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up."

Jinu imagines just what they could be doing with said pink hand cuffs, as you continue no longer paying attention to the boys. You miss the way Baby and Romance readjust themselves in their sitting positions.

“I know you want my touch for life. If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno,” you slightly dip down with one leg posed out. Romance follows the curve of your leg as you stick it out.

You continue dancing and singing while the boys watch on. They watch until you hit one specific line.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love. Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah. Wanna try out some freaky positions?”

You get down on your knees, turn to the side and stick your hips up, curving your back so you’re in doggy position while looking in the mirror. Gulping before saying lowly, “have you ever tried this one?”

Jinu and Abby take in deep breathes before letting out slow breathes, nearly scruffing the other boys to keep them from grabbing you. Mystery does his best to keep heat from going down his face, but his lip wobbles as the position you were in flashes in his mind.

Baby and Romance aren’t doing much better, imagining you bent over while their hands roam your hips. Gripping your flesh and kneading it while they have their way with you.

You are none the wiser as you continue, getting off the floor. Continuing in the song while the boys barely restrain themselves from stopping and going to have their way with you.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me, Mark your territory, tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one," you sing calmly now kneeling on the floor bringing one hand up the middle of your chest to rest on your neck. Jinu's eyes briefly flash to his demon eyes as he clenches his jaw and crosses his arms to keep a hold of himself.

"Adore me, hold me and explore me, I'm so fuckin' horny," Baby clenches his jaw so hard, he swears a tooth cracked, "tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one," You slowly drag the hand from your throat down your chest and navel before getting off the floor.

You continue until you finish the last chorus of the song, slightly out of breath before you sit on the floor with your legs out and head tipped back.

"Ah, I'm so tired," you mutter out while gulping down some air, "that song is so dirty," you laugh a little bit with your eyes closed.

You fail to notice the way the five men are looking at you. The way they rake their eyes over your form, to the way your head is tipped back, to the way your chest rises and falls. Watching how you really are in almost the perfect position for them to grab your head and use it how they want.

Jinu is the first to move, walking silently to stand just behind where your head is. You only notice he's there when the light dims behind your eyelids, cracking them open and blinking in surprise as you look up in surprise.

You make a slight noise, now seeing how this position is not exactly the most innocent looking. Now moving so your head is looking in front of you. Heat crawls up your face as you look at the other four and they are in different states after the dance.

Coughing a bit to ease the tension you smile a little at the boys deciding to tease them.

"Enjoy the dance, boys?"

You say in a teasing voice, not expecting a serious answer, not even expecting any answer at all. It's not until you look towards Mystery and see him shudder a bit at what you said that you feel a little awkward. It's not the first time you've danced like that in front of men, hell not even the first time you've danced in front of attractive men, but something about them is just different.

Something about them just makes you feel different.

"You guys are being oddly quiet, what happened, was it silly?" Now a little self-conscious, you swallow your spit.

Jinu, still the closest towards you bends a little and pushes your head so it tips back to look him in the eyes.

"Quite the opposite, actually," he mutters, eyes lidded as they watch the sweat drip from your chin down to between your cleavage.

"The opposite, huh," you respond back not daring to break the eye contact between Jinu and you. Not until you see movement from behind him and watch Abby move to stand in front of the door blocking anyone from looking in.

Romance is the next to move, nearing you as he crouches down next to your ear and whispers, "we quite enjoyed it actually, especially that little pose of yours."

Your face heats as you clench your jaw when you can feel how close he is from how his breath is hitting your ear. You dare to look away from Jinu and look towards Romance, noting how his eyes are looking across your face wondering just how flushed he could make it from putting you in other positions.

"Do you do a different position each time or the same one?" Baby asks as he walks to move in front of you. Standing in front while looking down, scanning your face.

"I do- I uh choose a different pose each time, that's kind of the- the gag," wincing a bit at your word choice, " behind it, that there's a lot of positions," you respond back suddenly very aware of where you are. Baby hums a bit, his eyes going up as if in deep thought.

"So that means you know more positions? Hm?"

Mystery pipes up still seated against the wall.

"How many do you know?"

Abby asks, his head tilted up as he watches through the door for anyone coming down the hall.

You think briefly about getting up, but before you can make any move Baby is crouched down on his heels between your legs, looking you in your eyes. Smirking a bit, he watches your face in some satisfaction at how bashful you get.

You’re caged on essentially all sides, Jinu behind you, Romance to your right and Baby crouched in front of you. You couldn’t move even if you tried, if you wanted to move that is.

“I uh,” you clear your throat feeling it get dry at the gazes that are on you, “yeah I, I know a few more.”

"Yeah? Show us."

Abby all but demands from you, still positioned in front of the door, occasionally flicking his eyes out. You can feel your heart stutter as your mouth drops open at his words, "I, you don't really want that. It ruins the surprise!"

You awkwardly laugh out, playing with your hair nervously. Romance takes your hand from your hair and rubs the back of it slowly. Breathing heavily, your eyes flick to Romance's and you swallow as your face flushes.

Jinu chuckles behind you, leaning down to your left ear before breathing out, "don't feel like you have to, you can say no, princess."

Your chest rises and falls quickly at the sound of Jinu's voice breathing huskily in your ear. Just as you go to move, Abby whistles from the door alerting the guys to someone approaching from down the hall. In just a second, all the boys move away from you, leaving you with your eyes blown wide and feeling heat pooling in your lower belly.

You curse whoever was coming down the hall for stopping this from going even further.

It's now been a week since that moment in the dance room and things have slowly been progressing ever since. There have been lingering touches, like Jinu placing his hand on your waist when going behind you to grab something. Abby pulling your hair to the side to purposefully speak into your ear, putting his arm around your shoulder. Baby will speak directly into your ear sometimes, breathing into it leading to you getting shivers down your spine.

Let's not even start with Romance, he is regularly grabbing your waist and grabbing the back of your neck and rubbing it, calling you names like 'sweetheart' and 'babe' while looking into your eyes. Mystery is the only one who's been more subtle with his affection, bringing you your favorite drinks and snacks. Though he can get touchy sometimes, but not often.

They've slowly been getting closer and closer to you, it's now that you guess they've finally had it as you're surrounded by them in your apartment after inviting them over to finally spend some time with them.

You think you've definitely gotten into something you can't get out of.

#huntr/x #huntrix #jinu x reader #kpop demon hunters #saja boys #saja boys x reader #jinu #x reader #kdh mystery x reader #kdh #jinu kdh #rumi kdh #jinu kpdh #kdh romance x reader #kdh abby x reader #kdh baby x reader #kdh jinu x reader

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sparklystarrrr · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! Can u please write smth about floyd x female!jellyfish reader who matches his energy? Thank u!!

THEE Chaotic Duo

Synopsis: Don’t put your hands in the sea creature tank! The jellyfish and the eel bite.

Contains: Floyd L. x Jellyfish! Fem! Reader, octavinelle reader, so so chaotic, Riddle is their target as usual, Azul being a party pooper, I’m so sorry for whatever this is…

(y/n) and Floyd were... scary to say the least...

She was a jellyfish and he was an eel. When she was alone, people would assume (y/n) to be a calm minded and elegant young woman. It couldn't have been farther from the truth because when she was with her boyfriend, Floyd... and oh boy.

With her harsh zaps, his terrifying height, and their maniacal laughs that echo off the hallways after chasing some poor little NRC student around, no one was safe.

Everyone knew the scary Octavinelle couple. Not by choice, but because how else were they suppose to protect themselves?

It was like there was a dark and ominous aura around the two of them whenever they lurked around the corner and scoped out which fishies to squeeze and sting!

Today's target? Riddle frickin' Rosehearts.

The eerie couple had been cackling about some random kid in their previous class who'd been jumpscared by them from just turning around in his seat when they saw a red tuft of hair in the distance. It was no usual red, but a rose red. Target acquired.

"Floyd, you seein' what I'm seein'?" (y/n) whispered in his ear.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm seein' goldfishie~ hehehe!"

"I bet he's needin' a sting, don'tcha think Floydie?"

"I think yer right Jellyfishie!"

And with their new plan and target, they were on the hunt.

At sensing the two, the crowded hallways literally split around them to get out of a potential sting or squeeze...

Students physically shuddered at their sharp teeth while they both smiled playfully.

The only person who somehow didn't sense the two coming was of course.... Riddle.

He walked with urgency in his steps as he made his way to his next class. Books in hand and all.

With his back turned, Floyd and (y/n) snuck up like two preditors.

Once they got close enough, (y/n) stuck her index finger out in poor Riddle's direction. She quickly zapped him which effortlessly distracted the small boy. Whilst Riddle was turned to her, Floyd picked him up into a bone crushing and suffocating squeeze."Ack- PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!!! IT WILL BE OFF WITH BOTH OF YOUR HEADS IF THIS IS NOT DONE IN THE NEXT SECOND!!!"

The boy's face turned bright red in anger and the heart shaped strands of hair in his face practically stood up straight in rage.

(y/n) took this as a chance to be playful, bringing her hand up to the strands and twirling them in her fingers and sending little jolts to his body with her other hand. It was almost like a taunt, but in truth, the couple was just having fun with a fishie!

"Hey Riddlie, does your hair usually stand up like this when yer pink?"

"(y/n), CEASE YOUR PLAYING WITH MY HAIR!!"

"But goldfishie~ we're havin' fun!" Floyd giggled with the toothiest smile ever.

Their fun (Riddle's torture) would've went on longer had Azul not caught them on his way to class as well.

He sputtered at the sight of his dorm members/ insufferable friends publicly humiliating a fellow Housewarden.

"Floyd, (y/n). What... IS GOING ON HERE??!!"

"Playin'! Wanna join?" Floyd taunted. A lovely idea then slithered into (y/n)'s brain. Quickly, she whispered it right into Floyd's ear. There was a glint in the couple's eyes that Azul and Riddle did not like.

Floyd dropped Riddle (who made a mad dash to his class right after), turned to Azul and just eyed him down eerily. This didn't last long before the scary couple started a mad chase at Azul.

New target found: AZUL ASHENGROTTO

"W-WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING??!! AGHHHH----"

"We're it Zuzu!! You can run but you can't hide!" Nobody understands how (y/n) sounded so sweet screaming that at Azul while sprinting at him like she was starving for some octopus.

Floyd just cackled as usual and threw himself at Azul, knocking him down and screaming "YOU'RE IT NOW COME CATCH US HAHAHA!" and ran off after picking up (y/n) and throwing the jellyfish girl over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

My, what a normal day for (y/n) and Floyd!

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #floyd #floyd x reader #Floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #octavinelle

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untilwefind · 2 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/sleepy-hyperfixations/787801657479184384/jo-imagine-will-wrestle-with-mack-for-fun-all-the?source=share

hope you don't mind me asking buuut were you up to write about Will using wrestling to rub his dick subtle on Mack's ass 👉👈🥺

(Both think the other one is straight, so they both try to get themselves off by wrestling and rubbing their dicks subtle at each other)

Just Guys Being Dudes

Another fun one! You guys have some banger prompts lately...

The Sharks have practice at 7 a.m. the next morning, but Will’s wired. His body’s tired, legs buzzing from drills, shoulders loose from lifts, but his brain is chewing through itself. So he throws on sweats and drives down to the team gym, because at least then he can pretend he’s doing something about it.

It’s quiet. Dim. A couple of overhead fluorescents still hum above the weight racks. The mats in the back corner look freshly wiped down, the rubber floor giving off that faint chemically clean smell.

Mack is already there.

He’s sitting against the wall, legs stretched out, scrolling on his phone. His hoodie’s halfway off his shoulders like he gave up mid-strip. His hair’s wet at the roots, curls damp and pushed back from his forehead.

Will stops short, and something slow curls in his chest. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

Mack looks up. Shrugs. “Just felt like moving.”

“Same.” Will ambles over, lowering himself to the mat with a quiet groan. “God, I’m so sore.”

“That’s what you get for racing Eky on suicides.”

“He was talking shit! I had to.”

Mack huffs a laugh, and the edge of it slides warm under Will’s skin. They fall into easy silence. Mack stretches his arms above his head, t-shirt riding up to flash a strip of taut stomach. Will very intentionally does not look. Or if he does, it’s just for one second.

Just to take in the competition.

Will nudges him with a toe. “Wanna wrestle?”

Mack turns, one eyebrow raised. “Like… for real?”

Will shrugs, heart picking up pace despite himself. “Combat cardio. You know. Old school.”

Mack stares at him for a long beat. Then he slides his phone into his shoe and pulls his hoodie the rest of the way off. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Will wasn’t actually expecting him to say yes.

They square off in the middle of the mat, barefoot, grinning like idiots. It starts half-hearted. Will circling, Mack mimicking him like it’s a game. Which it is. Kind of.

Will lunges, gets a hand around Mack’s waist, tries to flip him. but Mack twists and counters like a goddamn snake, slamming his shoulder into Will’s side until Will topples backward.

They roll.

Will laughs. Mack grunts. Will shoves. Mack pins.

Will’s breath catches.

Mack’s weight is fully on top of him now, thighs bracketing Will’s hips, hands planted on either side of Will’s shoulders. He’s breathing hard. So is Will.

Their hips brush.

They both freeze.

Mack’s eyes flick down to Will’s mouth for half a second before darting back up. His face is unreadable. His thighs tighten slightly where they’re straddling Will’s.

Will swallows. His mouth feels dry.

He should move. He should roll away or make a joke or laugh this whole thing off, like he always does. But Mack is still on him. Still flushed. Still staring at him like he’s waiting for something.

The air is hot. Dense.

Finally, Mack pushes up and off, quick and smooth, already retreating toward the wall.

Will lies there for a second, blinking up at the ceiling.

Then he gets up. Grabs his water bottle. Forces out a grin.

“You win this round, Celebrini.”

Mack tosses him a smirk, but there’s something sharp behind it. “I always do.”

Will showers with the water on cold and jerks off with his forehead pressed to the tile, teeth gritted, hand fast and mean.

He doesn’t think about Mack.

He doesn’t think about how good it felt.

He doesn’t think about why he’s lying to himself.

---

They’re two months into the season and already half-dead from travel. Anaheim back-to-backs suck in theory. Less sleep, less prep, too many post-game media requests. But in practice, it’s mostly just sitting in a beige hotel room trying not to kill each other with passive-aggressive sighs.

Will’s got nothing to do and nowhere to go. Him and Mack aren't rooming this trip so naturally, at 10:37 p.m., he texts Mack.

u up?

gym mat looks lonely

There’s a long pause. Then:

5 mins

Will doesn’t even bother pretending he’s not already half-dressed.

He tosses on a hoodie over his thin base layer and slinks down to the hotel gym like some kind of degenerate. It smells like old sweat and fake citrus cleaner and the walls are lined with sad motivational posters: Hard Work Beats Talent When Talent Doesn’t Work Hard. Will almost takes a selfie beside one and sends it to Mack, but before he can, the door opens.

Mack walks in. Tank top. Compression shorts. A faint sheen of leftover post-game sweat still clinging to his collarbone. His hair’s a little flat on one side, like he was lying down before Will texted. He doesn’t smile.

“You’re actually serious about this?” he says, stepping onto the mat and toeing off his slides.

Will shrugs, already rolling his sleeves up. “Gotta keep the heart rate up.”

Mack raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t argue.

They start slow again. Almost cautious. Will circles like a shark, no pun intended, while Mack just watches him, solid and quiet, weight settled evenly through his hips like he’s waiting for the right moment to strike.

Will lunges.

Mack ducks. They collide.

It’s sharper this time. Less laughing. Less banter. Mack’s grip on Will’s biceps is tight and focused. Will plants his foot and pivots, tries to twist free, but Mack yanks his arm and takes them both down in a heap.

They roll. Will ends up on top for half a second before Mack flips them, slamming his thigh between Will’s legs and grinding down instinctively.

Will gasps.

Not loud. But enough.

Mack freezes. Will does too.

They’re pressed together from knees to chest, Mack’s arms caging him in, Will’s hands still clutched in Mack’s shirt. Will’s heart is hammering. His dick’s already half-hard and pinned awkwardly beneath the friction point of Mack’s thigh.

They both feel it.

Mack lifts his head, face unreadable. “Are you—”

“Sorry,” Will says, voice high and fast. “That was—I didn’t—”

He tries to shift his hips, but the movement only drags them together again. His stomach flips violently. Mack goes still, eyes darting between Will’s face and his mouth like he’s trying to solve a fucking equation.

Will’s breath stutters out. He thinks, kiss me, for one terrible second.

Mack blinks.

And then he’s up. Off Will, away from the mat, palms on his thighs as he catches his breath.

Will lies there for a second, staring at the ceiling like it holds answers. Then he sits up too fast and regrets it immediately.

“You good?” Mack asks, too casually, voice sandpaper-dry.

“Yeah,” Will croaks. “Totally.”

They don’t talk on the way back to the elevators. Don’t talk on the ride up to their floor. Mack scratches the back of his neck and mutters a “see you tomorrow” before disappearing into his room without looking back.

Will gets in his own bed and stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours, hard again for no goddamn reason except that his body can’t seem to forget the feel of Mack’s weight, the friction, the sound he made when their hips slotted just right.

He tells himself it was an accident.

He knows he’s lying.

---

They win in regulation. A clean, hard-fought home game that leaves the locker room buzzing with leftover adrenaline and mid-season optimism.

Everyone’s going out after. Steakhouse downtown, maybe somewhere sleazy after that. Toff throws an arm around Will and chirps him about not being late to team dinner and Will laughs, promises to catch up.

But he doesn’t.

Because Mack’s already packing up in the corner. Quiet. Focused. Still humming with tension like his blood didn’t get the memo that the game’s over.

Will doesn’t even think about it. He just catches Mack’s eye across the room, jerks his chin slightly.

Mack nods.

They don’t say anything.

The facility’s dark by the time they sneak back in. Staff’s gone home. The mats in the back gym are still laid out, slightly askew from earlier warm-ups.

Will sheds his hoodie the moment they step inside. Mack follows suit, rolling his shoulders like he’s trying to shake off a second skin.

No warm-up. No jokes. They crash together like magnets.

Will shoves first. Mack resists. They lock arms and jostle, the air thick with breath and the squeak of socked feet on the mat. Mack’s t-shirt clings to his back in a way that makes Will’s throat go tight.

“You’re holding back,” Will grunts, digging in.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Mack growls, actually growls, and throws his weight into it.

Will goes down hard.

The air leaves his lungs in a rush as Mack straddles him, pinning Will’s wrists above his head like he’s done it a thousand times in his sleep. His thighs are pressed tight to Will’s hips. There’s nowhere to go. Nothing to do except—

Rock up.

It’s instinct. Muscle memory. Need.

Will does it once, just enough to feel. Mack’s breath hitches. His grip loosens.

Will blinks up at him.

Mack’s lips part like he’s going to say something. But nothing comes out.

And Will, God help him, does it again.

This time slower. Deliberate. His hard dick grinds against the unmistakable bulge in Mack’s compression shorts, and they both just... freeze.

It’s not an accident this time. It’s not a joke.

Mack’s hands drop away like Will’s skin is on fire.

Will doesn’t move. Can’t.

“I—” Mack starts, but his voice cracks, raw.

Will sits up, chest brushing Mack’s. “We should—”

“I know.”

Neither of them finish the thought.

Mack scrambles off first, yanking his shirt down over his waistband. Will doesn’t look. Or he does, but only for a second. Long enough to see the flush spreading across Mack’s throat, the too-tight set of his jaw.

They don’t speak as they gather their clothes. Don’t speak in the hallway. Don’t even glance at each other when they split at the locker room doors.

Will showers with the water scalding and one arm braced against the tile while he jerks himself off aggressively with the other.

He comes too fast, a groan tearing out of his chest that makes him bite his own hand.

It’s not the orgasm that wrecks him.

It’s how clearly he hears Mack’s voice in his head right after, soft and breathless and very, very real: “I’m not.”

Not straight.

Not pretending.

Not alone.

---

They lose in OT.

It’s not even a bad loss, just one of those games where nothing quite clicks, where the puck bounces the wrong way and everyone walks out of the rink with that twitchy, unfinished kind of energy.

Will’s buzzing. Not the good kind. He doesn’t want a shower beer or a group hang. He wants to hit something. Or someone.

Or—

Mack.

Mack, who sits two stalls over and doesn’t say a word the whole way through undressing. Mack, who’s been avoiding Will’s eyes for three days, ever since the last wrestling session ended with Will on his back and Mack halfway hard on top of him, breathless and terrified and still not kissing him.

Will doesn’t ask this time. He just gets up, yanks a hoodie over his head, and walks out of the room without saying a word.

Mack follows ten seconds later.

The gym’s empty. Dim. Quiet.

Neither of them speaks.

Will throws his bag down beside the mat and turns around just in time for Mack to shove him, hard, full-body and loaded with something dangerous.

They crash together like it’s been waiting to happen. No circling. No warming up. Just arms locking, chests slamming, Will’s heel catching on the edge of the mat as they tumble to the floor.

Mack lands on top. It’s not graceful. It’s hot.

Will grabs him by the waist and yanks him down until their hips collide.

Mack stutters out a groan. “Don’t.”

Will’s voice is wrecked. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t—fuck—don’t start this unless you’re gonna finish.”

Will huffs, grinning through his own dizzy pulse. “Pretty sure we’ve only been starting things.”

Mack breathes in deep, like he’s bracing for impact.

Then he kisses Will like a fight.

It’s teeth and spit and weeks of unsaid things, all of it breaking open in the space between their mouths. Mack groans when Will grabs the back of his neck. Will grinds up into him without shame this time, no half-excuses or pretend slippage. Hust pure, unbearable friction.

Mack is hard against him. Fully, obviously hard. And when Will reaches down between them to palm him through his shorts, Mack jerks like he’s been shocked.

“You sure?” Will mutters, even as he palms him again.

Mack pants against his neck. “I’ve been sure since fuckin’ camp.”

Will laughs, stunned. “You—”

“Shut up,” Mack breathes, rolling his hips. “God, shut up.”

They fumble out of their clothes with all the elegance of horny teenagers. Mack’s still wearing his base layer top when Will gets his pants down. Will ends up shirtless in his compression shorts, kneeing his own water bottle out of the way as Mack yanks them down.

Their dicks brush and it’s like a live wire snaps between them. Both of them gasp.

Will spits in his hand, reaches down between them, and wraps his hand around them both. Mack groans, loud this time, helpless. His hand comes up to cover Will’s, guiding the pace, their hips grinding in time.

“I’m not gonna last,” Mack whispers, forehead pressed to Will’s.

“Yeah, no shit,” Will breathes back, kissing him again, softer this time. Slower. “We've been edging each other for weeks, Celly.”

The nickname hits its mark. Mack lets out a wrecked little sound, hips stuttering.

They rut together like animals, skin sticking, hands slipping, breathing like it hurts.

Will loses it first, hips jerking, voice catching on Mack’s name as he spills between them.

Mack follows half a second later, gasping into Will’s mouth, whole body curling inward like he’s trying to crawl under Will’s skin.

They lie there after, tangled and slick and stupidly content. The room smells like sweat and sex and cheap gym mats. Mack’s cheek is pressed to Will’s bare chest. Will’s hand is still on his thigh.

Neither of them speaks for a long time.

Eventually, Mack says, “So… combat cardio?”

Will laughs. “Best workout of my life.”

Mack hums. “We’re gonna have to stretch next time.”

Will’s heart trips a little. He turns his head, looks at Mack, really looks at him, flushed and soft and smiling just barely.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” he asks, quiet.

Mack rolls his eyes, fond. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

#willmack #macklin celebrini #will smith hockey #mackwill #wacklin

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runningincircl3s · 2 days ago

Text

Sinematic

Vinny Mauro x Reader

Chapter 17

masterlist

chapter warnings: nsfw!! i kinda added the smut scene to make this chapter longer lmao, i wrote it on my phone and it feels pretty short and i'm not too happy with it, but the next chapter is (hopefully) gonna be better!! <3

YAYY SINEMATIC POSTS ARE BACK!! right now i have no idea when i have time to write and edit posts, so i've updated my posting schedule to match that lmao. i still want to write and post them weekly/ every other week though! :)

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The night air was cool, the street was practically empty as the group wandered back from their late night diner run, the odd car passed every few minutes but other than that, it was just them.

Ricky scrolled on his phone, one hand stuffed in his jacket pocket as he walked. His thumb hovered over the screen… then suddenly, he froze.

His brows pinched together in confusion, mouth parting slightly as his eyes traced over the new message popping up at the top of his phone. He immediately tapped on it.

Chenzo Whore-o: Man, I fucked up bringing y/n. I can't deal with her shit anymore. You think we can convince her to go home?

Ricky stopped dead in his tracks, the rest of the group carried on ahead, oblivious.

“What the fuck…?” Rick muttered under his breath, this didn’t make sense…

Ryan, noticing Ricky lagging behind, slowed his pace and glanced over.

“What?” His tone was casual at first, but it shifted the second he saw the look on Ricky’s face. “Dude, what is it?”

Wordlessly, Ricky turned the phone, showing him the message.

Ryan’s eyes darted across the screen as he read the message once, then twice, confusion flashing over his face. His frown deepened as the words settled in.

“The fuck? That doesn’t… that doesn’t sound right,” Ryan muttered, his eyes still locked on the screen. He read it again, slower this time. “He was literally fine with her like, twenty minutes ago.”

Before Ricky could respond, Ryan’s phone buzzed in his hand. The notification popped up on his lockscreen.

Vin: I’ve been trying to push y/n away all day but it’s not working. She won’t take the fucking hint. Think you can talk to her for me?

Hesitantly, Ryan read out his message. Both of them staring at each other in confusion, stood frozen on the sidewalk as Justin, Angela, and Chris carried on ahead, laughing softly amongst themselves, oblivious to what was going on behind them.

Ricky shook his head slowly, a cold weight sinking into his stomach.

“This doesn’t make sense,” he murmured, sliding his phone into his pocket with a frustrated exhale. “Earlier, he was doing everything to win her back, since Ruby got into her head. The whole fucking day it’s been him looking at her like a lost puppy.”

“Maybe they fought?” Ryan offered weakly, but even he didn’t sound convinced. His shoulders tensed, phone still in his hand. “Something must’ve gone down after we left.”

Ricky nodded slightly as he thought, eyes narrowing. His mind replayed every interaction from earlier, every stolen glance, every moment he could think of between you and Vinny.

“But even the texts,” Ricky pointed out, his voice growing more certain, more suspicious now. “Look at them… Vin doesn’t text like this. Full stops? Commas? That motherfucker barely spells shit right.”

Ryan’s mouth twisted, his frown deepening as he scrolled through the message again, his stomach churning.

“So what? You think y/n got ahold of his phone and sent these? Because… Ruby’s on the other bus, and they were supposed to leave when we went to eat, that’s why we didn’t invite them.”

Ricky ran a hand through his messy hair, his expression conflicted, the city lights catching the anxious crease between his brows.

“So, what, you think he actually feels that way?” Ricky asked, voice full of frustration. “That he regrets bringing her? That he’s been trying to push her away this whole time?”

Ryan hesitated, his throat tightening as uncertainty gnawed at him. His mind flashed to Vin’s face, the nervous glances, the quiet smiles, the tension that always lingered when you were nearby.

“I dunno, man…” Ryan admitted, shrugging, but his posture was still stiff with unease. “Vin doesn’t even know how he feels half the time.” He exhaled sharply, glancing ahead toward the bus parked down the block. “But this is weird. Even for him.”

They both stood there in silence, the streetlight flickering slightly overhead, casting them in a warm glow. Neither of them could stop thinking about the texts, and whether there was any truth behind them at all.

And if this was just the first day of tour, what would be going down by the end of the week?

…

“We’ve gotta be quick.” Vin whispered, panting already as he kissed your inner thighs, having just given you an orgasm with nothing but his mouth, your slick still coating his chin. “Don’t know how long they’ll be.”

You nodded, and Vin rose back to his feet, his hands on your waist as he kisses your lips, giving you a taste of yourself.

He backs you up to the table, letting you gently lie back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down with you, your lips not leaving his as he reached between the two of you to line himself up. The moment you felt the head of his cock run through your folds, your whole body shivered and you whimpered against his lips, your eyes screwing shut.

“Such pretty noises,” he teased, a smirk creeping up on his face, “There’s nobody about, baby, you can be as loud as you need.”

Your lips parted, ready with some snarky reply, but it melted into a gasp as he pushed in, the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance before sinking deep, the stretch dizzying and oh so perfect. Your hips bucked instinctively, your back arching off the table as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

“Fuck.” Vin groaned low in his throat, his head dropping to your shoulder as he held still for a second, savouring the way you clenched around him, so wet and so warm.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, a needy whimper slipping from your lips. His cock twitched inside you, and his hand snuck between your bodies, thumb circling your swollen clit without mercy.

“Vin…” Your voice broke into a moan, hips rocking up to meet his again, desperate for friction, for more.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your ear, his hips pulling back before slamming into you hard enough to rattle the table beneath you. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

The slick sounds of your bodies filled the cramped space, the faint creak of the table, your breathless moans echoing off the walls of the bus. His pace quickened, sharp, rough thrusts hitting deep, the head of his cock dragging against your sweetest spot with every stroke, his thumb still teasing on your clit.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him closer as your walls fluttered around him, the pressure building fast again, unbearable after how sensitive you already were.

“Gonna cum again for me, baby?” He rasped, his voice strained as he slammed into you harder, his free hand sliding up to your throat. His forehead pressed to yours, his eyes dark, feral with need.

You nodded frantically, the words stuck in your throat, your whole body shaking as the heat built low in your belly, and you knew you were close.

“Then be loud for me,” Vin hissed, driving into you rougher now, each thrust making your tits bounce, “Wanna hear those pretty sounds when I make you cum…”

His thumb pressed harder, circling your clit fast and tight, and it sent you over the edge. Your walls pulsed around him as you cried out, your vision going a little blurred, thighs trembling as your orgasm washed through you, soaking his cock.

Vin cursed under his breath, hips stuttering as you milked him, his cock twitching inside you before he buried himself deep, his release spilling into you with a low, guttural moan, his grip tightening on your waist.

For a few breathless seconds, neither of you moved, his forehead resting against yours, his cock still buried inside your pulsing cunt, both of you panting, skin slick with sweat.

He pulled out, your slick and his cum dripping down your thighs, your panties still discarded somewhere on the floor, but he only tucked himself away, back into his boxers as he grabbed your hips to steady you as you slid off the table, wobbly and completely spent.

“Be right back.” Vin said with a soft smile, kissing your cheek before wandering off towards the bunks, and came back moments later with a warm cloth and your pajamas. Softly, he cleaned you up, and then helped you get dressed.

You let out a happy, content sigh as Vin's hands moved over your skin, helping you pull up your sleep shorts. You were still catching your breath, waiting for your heart to calm down, and you already felt a little sore.

Vin was walking around the bus in just his pair of Calvin Kleins, not really caring that the others could be back any minute now. You stood against the doorway of the bunks, just by the kitchen area, watching him pick up the clothes you had torn off of each other.

But then he froze, mid-bend, and turned to you.

“Did I… No. But- Surely-“

“What?” You asked, your brows furrowing as you saw his face screw in confusion.

“My phone. I thought I brought it in.”

“Is it not in your pocket?”

He picked up the shorts he had just been wearing moments before, patting them down and shaking his head.

“No… it’s not in there,” Vinny muttered, running a hand through his messy hair, his eyes scanning the cluttered floor of the bus in frustration.

Your heart started to race for an entirely different reason now, unease creeping up your spine.

“Did you leave it outside?” You asked carefully.

Vinny paused, eyes widening slightly as realisation clicked into place.

“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly stepping toward the door. Still in just his boxers. “Yeah… yeah, I think I left it out there, where we were sat.”

You followed him, peeking your head out of the bus door as he jogged the short distance to the low brick wall. There, sitting right where he’d carelessly left it earlier, was his phone.

Vinny snatched it up, letting out a relieved exhale as he turned it over, the screen lighting up beneath his thumb.

“All good?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, yeah… guess I was too busy rocking your world to notice.” He teased with a crooked grin, the playful glint returning to his eyes as he strode back onto the bus.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the grin pulling at your lips as he set his phone down on the little table near the kitchen, grabbing your waist and pulling you in for one last, lingering kiss.

The warmth of his mouth on yours made your pulse race again, but just as you curled your fingertips into his waistband, footsteps crunched on the gravel outside.

“Shit,” Vin whispered, laughing softly against your lips, his eyes still shut. “I think they’re back.”

You groaned, resting your forehead to his chest.

“Of course they are…”

Vinny nudged your chin gently, brushing another quick kiss to your temple.

“You look tired,” he said softly, the teasing fading into concern. “Go crawl into the bunk, try to get some sleep. I’ll tidy up the rest of the mess.” He motioned to your discarded bra and panties, along with his hoodie and pants.

You hesitated, but exhaustion was creeping up on you, so you nodded, slipping down the narrow aisle to the bunk area. You got in and drew the curtain closed, laying on your back with a long sigh.

Moments later, the bus door creaked open and the others filed in, still having their own conversations, but pausing to greet Vin.

But as Rick walked in, his brows immediately pinched together in confusion. Ryan elbowed him subtly, whispering under his breath.

“He’s got his phone…”

Ricky swallowed hard, noticing how Vin’s phone was in his hands, scrolling through completely unbothered. If Vinny had his phone this whole time… that meant he’d sent those texts.

Right?

Ricky’s stomach turned with unease, his earlier doubts gnawing at him again. Something sure wasn’t adding up.

Ryan frowned, watching Vin with narrowed eyes.

“Guess they didn’t work it out after all…” Ryan muttered under his breath, with a casual shrug.

Before either of them could ask Vinny anything, he suddenly stood, stretching his arms overhead with a lazy groan.

“Gonna get some rest,” Vin mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he slipped past Ricky and Ryan, barely sparing them a glance. “Wake me before load in. Or don’t... I’d rather you didn’t.”

The two exchanged a look, brows knitted, neither entirely sure what to believe.

…

The next day…

Cases were scattered across the stage as everyone got set up for tonight, cables snaked across the room, people were barking orders left right and centre. You stood just by the side of the stage, arms crossed loosely over your chest, watching Vin.

He was by the drum riser, assembling his kit with his drum tech, his curls falling into his eyes as he fixed the snare. His sleeves were rolled up, his forearms flexing as he adjusted something. You couldn’t help but stare…

God, he looked so good when he was in his element.

You found yourself hovering near him, not wanting to interrupt, but also craving his company. You’ve hardly had a chance to talk to him since waking up this morning.

Vin glanced up briefly, his eyes softening the moment they caught yours. A small grin tugged at his lips.

But before you could inch closer, a voice cut through the din.

“Hey, y/n, c’mere a sec!” Ricky called from across the stage, waving a hand as he approached.

You hesitated, shooting Vin a quick, questioning glance, but he just gave a half shrug, focusing back on his drums.

Ricky’s hand gently curled around your wrist when you got close, tugging you off to the side where a stack of merch boxes sat waiting.

“Can you help me take these to the front?” He asked casually, though his eyes were darting over your shoulder toward Vin who had now been joined by Ryan, who gave Rick a quick nod.

You frowned slightly, but grabbed one of the boxes, and followed his lead. As you both sat them down at the merch desk, your curiosity got the better of you.

“Is everything okay, Rick?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

Ricky shrugged, though his jaw was tight.

“Yes! Why wouldn’t it be..?”

Your eyes narrowed.

“You’ve been acting a little weird all morning. You and Ryan…”

Ricky laughed softly, though it seemed forced, strained, as he stacked the last box and turned to face you properly.

“Weird? No… I think you’re just tired,” he deflected, ruffling your hair lightly in that same older brother way he always did, though the easy warmth wasn’t there this time. “It was the first show, late night and all, right?”

Your stomach twisted slightly, but you forced a smile, brushing it off. Maybe you were tired… Maybe you were reading too much into it.

The rest of the morning passed a little too quick. You kept trying to catch Vin alone, but he was always occupied. Either Ryan had him deep in some random overcomplicated discussion, or Rick needed him for something. You were beginning to get a little suspicious.

By the time lunch rolled around, you were exhausted and fed up, craving nothing more than a moment with Vinny away from everyone else. Just the two of you. Just to talk to him, just to be in his company.

Finally, you spotted him! Backstage, sat down on the couch, scrolling on his phone.

You made a beeline for him, ready to slide into that small safe space beside him.

But before you could get there…

“Hey, Vin!” Ricky suddenly appeared out of nowhere, casually plopping himself down right where you’d been headed, legs spread, arm slung across the back of the couch like he’d been sitting there all along.

Your steps faltered, irritation sparking within.

With no other choice, you dropped onto the other couch beside Ryan instead, a little too hard, crossing your arms over your chest.

Ryan glanced over, eyebrows raised, before his expression softened slightly.

“You okay?” He asked, tone gentle, but there was something a little off about it.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You muttered, your eyes finding Vin, who was now quietly talking to Ricky, brows pinched in subtle frustration.

Ryan exhaled, his voice dropping as he leaned in a little closer.

“It’s gotta be stressful… all this,” he said vaguely, gesturing toward the room. “I mean… nobody would blame you if you wanted to head home for a bit.”

Your stomach dropped. Your head snapped to face him, confused, defensive all at once.

“Wait what? Why would I… do you not want me here? Is this why you’ve been so weird around me today?”

Ryan’s mouth opened slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to confront it so directly.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gazed toward Ricky, who was already going wide eyed and red in the face, unsure what to do or say.

You stared between them, your heart pounding, confused wasn’t even the word for it anymore.

“What the hell is going on with you two?” You demanded, you didn’t shout, but your voice was sharp. Making the two of them look down at the floor awkwardly, like scolded school boys.

But still, neither of them answered.

With a dramatic sigh, you got up and left without another word…

None of them chased you, but it wasn’t like you expected them to. Today was just messing with your head, and it was only 3pm.

You sat down on the concrete step just outside the back doors, where you had been earlier when the guys loaded in. You pulled your knees up slightly, letting your arms rest across them. You ran a hand through your hair, head falling forward, just trying to breathe.

Then, the sound of footsteps approached.

You didn’t even look up.

“Hey.. are you okay?” A voice asked, syrupy sweet and laced with false concern.

You lifted your head slowly to see Ruby. She was dressed down in black leggings and a black tank top, no make up on today, clearly she was mid-rehearsal, her hair tied back, slight sheen of sweat at her temples, but it hurt your heart how despite how evil she could be, she was still pretty.

“Why do you care?” You asked flatly, not bothering to mask your exhaustion or your suspicion.

Ruby smiled softly, almost too softly- it didn’t look natural. She dropped onto the step beside you, far too close for comfort, stretching her legs out casually.

“Because,” she shrugged, “I got a few texts from Vin last night. Just wondering if they had anything to do with this little storm cloud hanging over you.”

Your stomach turned at the way she said his name.

“What are you talking about?” You tried to keep your face neutral, despite the feelings inside you.

Ruby didn’t answer right away. Instead, she fished her phone from her pocket, thumbs tapping at the screen before she angled it toward you.

Vinny’s name was right there at the top of the chat.

“I can’t keep this act up anymore.”

“I don’t feel the same way, but I don’t know how to tell her.”

“I made a mistake. You’re the only one who really gets me. You always have.”

The breath left your lungs, the world narrowing to just that screen for a moment, the words spinning in your head.

“No…” You shook your head quickly, eyes wide. “He wouldn’t say that.”

Ruby tilted her head, her lashes fluttering as she smiled that carefully rehearsed smile.

“Oh? Maybe ask Ricky and Ryan, then.” She shrugged. “I’m guessing they didn’t tell you he texted them too? They showed me their messages this morning…”

Your throat tightened. Panic clawed its way higher.

You tore your gaze from the phone, standing quickly, pointing a finger at her.

“You’re lying.”

Ruby didn’t flinch, didn’t argue. She simply smiled again, slow, and infuriatingly calm.

“Ask them, honey.”

With that, she rose to her feet, sauntering back towards the other girls without so much as another glance in your direction.

Your pulse was racing, heart hammering behind your ribs as you stormed back inside the building, searching the rooms until you found him alone walking through the hallway.

“Richard,” you snapped as you followed behind him, making him jolt upright in shock, “What the fuck’s going on? Ruby just showed me some texts from Vin, she said you and Ryan got some too?! What the hell is happening?”

Ricky’s face immediately darkened, he swallowed hard, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find the words to explain.

“Yeah…” Ricky muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “We got one. But… We don’t know if it was really him.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, your tone a little softer.

“Look,” Ricky sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket. He scrolled quickly and handed it over to you. “Read how he texts normally… then look at this one.”

Your brows furrowed as you scanned the messages. Everything before the last text was sloppy, lowercase, no punctuation, classic Vin. But the one last night? Full stops. Commas. It looked wrong…

It couldn’t possibly be him.

“But none of it makes sense because… He was sitting with his phone in his hands when we all came back last night.” Ricky’s voice lowered. “If he had it the whole time… it had to be him, right?”

Your breath caught, a puzzle piece sliding into place.

“No.” You shook your head firmly. “He didn’t have his phone the whole time... He lost it.”

Ricky frowned, confusion crossing his features.

“He… he found it outside,” you explained, pulse quickening. “After we- after everything. He found it sitting on the wall outside the bus.”

Realisation dawned across Ricky’s expression like a cold shadow.

“Shit…”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your heart pounding with dread. “Someone else had his phone…”

“And if someone else sent those texts… what else could they have done?”

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

ehhh i don't like this chapter :( i know exactly where i want this story to go but i'm kinda scared i'm rushing it

@collapsedglasshouses @miss570 @dominuslunae @sunshine-lvrr @death-ofpeace-ofmind @blade-dressed-in-red @amelia-acero @kait16xo @oobleoob @pipidoll @justdamnpeachy @bluehairpunklol @renegadebirch @devilsfuckingdance @darkwhisperswolf @carrieontillmay @0nlyethereal @punkprincess1999 @madsnic1119 @c0urt-0519 @animal4princess-blog @neeley1w @montgomery-929496 @h4tef6ck @ajordan2020 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx

#vinny mauro x reader #vinny mauro fanfic #motionless in white fanfic #sinematic <3 #vinny mauro fanfiction #vinny mauro smut #vinny mauro imagine

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thewritingfairy · 2 days ago

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I just came back from reading your Nobody's Child. I reached ↪ 18. For justice knows many faces and I'll tell you-

I'm in LOVE with your story!!

I just can't this is too good too great character writing writing! Your reader is one of the best writing MCs I find in both fanfiction and fiction in general 😭 thank you thank you thank you!!

Thank you for publishing this story!!

It's so genius. The writing of characters in a way that feels both OC and OCC. You made them so much of a darker version of themselves and I'm living for it.

It makes me wonder imagine canon Batfam meat your version of themselves and get told that the only difference in this world is that readers exist. This will mess them up real bad.

Imagine you find a version of yourself that does what you stand against to the most vulnerable one around them and knowing that the only difference between your life's is this person's existence. It makes you think "i would do the same if I was in their place?"

And imagine the reader seeing a version of themselves where their mom is alive. They see her older, alive, warm. They see themselves happy, and in a less bad medical state (because they never met Jason) how will the reader feel? This is one of the first readers I feel so curious about, it makes me want to study their character.

I'm really interested in your other story about older reader but I still haven't read it so I will not comment.

I have two other questions:

How do you control the colors like that?

And lastly can I be -🍳?

(I'm sorry I made it so long I got too excited)

Chapter mentioned: 18. For justice knows many faces

I'm so glad you enjoy Nodody's child and ofc you can be 🍳 anon!

Before I answer your question I want to talk about canon!Bruce and Nobody's child!Bruce.

Canon!Bruce would absolutely hate himself, and I can imagine him looking at his children and thinking; 'I need to be a better parent, I refuse to become like this vermin.'

So hey, at least your suffering made the canon!Batfam healthier!

But the small thing I disagree with is that one person made the difference. But your mama is a big part of how Bruce started to descend into a darker version of himself, he was a yandere for her. But at the time he was more like his canon self and didn't act on it. he let her go.

BUT this does not put his shitty behaviour towards you on your mama. It shows how he was never the person he thought he was. He was just good at acting and pretending.

Another small thing I have to point out in your ask is that Nobody's child!Name would never attempt to imagine a life where they weren't attacked by Jason. Because due to the progress of their illness eventually they would have gotten this ill with or without him. Jason just sped things up. And if you were to study them I am curious what you would find ngl.

I'm also rather curious about your opinion of older Reader.

Now when it comes to colours it's time to do some html editing. I don't know a lot of html so I use this generator, it was made by someone here on tumblr but I can't find them right now---

You can just turn your text editor in HTML editor and boom. Now you can copy the HTML code in. I usually save it to drafts and then copy the normal text in it as I write in Libre Office.

IDK how you can make text that fade into each other with colors, because I will be honest I am still practicing and figuring things out

In the generator you can go to font color and pick one of the colours there, or you can use hexcode for custom colours. I find most of my hex custom colours thx to my artist friends, this website and pinterest.

#☾ thewritingfairy #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #batfam x neglected reader #yandere platonic #🍳anon

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 19 hours ago

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Hello! I love your writing, I just can’t help but ask and wonder on how the welcome home group would react to a situation on which the reader gets injured like a sprained ankle or a cut that takes a while to heal from so they can’t do much without further injuring themselves?

Used this as an opportunity to practice writing pain. It gets pretty graphic in the beginning. So, please, read at your own discretion.

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Red pain

You felt a sharp stinging sensation before the blood spilled. It was deep enough to make your breathing go ragged. But shallow enough to not hinder your movements. Without looking at it, you press your palm against the cut. Applying pressure in hopes it would help.

It didn't do much.

What would the neighbors do if they saw this?

You can already imagine the looks you'll get. The gasps that might leave everybody's mouths. No. They didn't need to see.

Your front door came into view as you reached the edge of Home. Fumbling with the key before closing the door behind you. Leaning against the frame as you hear the latch go -click. Locked. Nobody would see you like this.

You felt the cut throb in synch with your pulse. Hearing the soft tap of blood falling on the floorboards. Shit, this was bad.

With a shaky breath, you peel the hand away to get a look. Biting your lip to stop yourself from crying out.

Outside, you hear Eddie speaking to Julie. Completely unaware of your distress. They’re along the sidewalk just a few steps away. Realizing this, you slink into the bathroom. Looking towards the medicine cabinet.

The only things you had were some gauze rolls, a half-used tube of vasoline, waterproof bandedges and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide you didn’t even remember buying.

You grabbed the hydrogen and a clean cloth, ignoring how your fingers trembled. Then poured the liquid onto your skin. It burns. Holy fuck, it burns. You almost drop the bottle. Watching as the little white bubbles fizz from inside the cut.

"This is fine. I'm fine. It wasn’t that deep." You say to yourself. You’d clean it. You’d—

*knock knock*

You froze.

“Neighbor?”

Wally

★ “Hello? Neighbor? Are you home?” He calls, voice wavering slightly as he speaks. “Can I come in?” You try to say something, anything, but can't find the words. “Please open the door.” He doesn’t mention the blood on the porch steps. Not yet.

★ Usually, Wally isn't this straightforward. But this isn't a usual day. Something is wrong. And making sure you're okay is more important than being polite. You imagine him on the other side. Waiting for you to let him in.

★ The latch clicks again, and you open the door. Seeing his whole body go stiff. He doesn't ask if you're okay because it's clear you're not. You move aside to let him enter. And he does. Quickly reaching for your arm to check the damage.

★ For the next few days Wally insists you stay inside. Worried you might fall apart. Showing up at your door before anybody else. If you like, he could keep you company? Despite the fact various neighbors filter in and out to check on you.

Barnaby

★ You hear his muffled voice from the other side. “…Are you okay?” Then silence. His voice is forcefully neutral. Trying not to show how concerned he really is. "Um, not to be dramatic, but I'm pretty sure I'm legally obligated to check on you."

★ He isn't an expert on humans, like Frank, but Barnaby knows blood on the doorknob can't be good. Open the door and his eyes land on your arm. A horrified expression is plastered on his face. The same one you tried to avoid.

★ Keep the door closed and he lingers for a while. "Alright... I'll wait." Sitting on the porch, waiting in case you change your mind. Eventually, Wally comes by and the two walk off together. Leaving you to deal with this yourself.

★ While you try to take it easy, he fetches whatever you need. Bringing in your mail and groceries. "I'll stop when it doesn't hurt anymore, then maybe a few days after. In case you're pretending it stopped."

#welcome home #welcome home headcanon #welcome home fanfiction #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x you #wally darling fanfic #wally darling headcanon #barnaby b beagle #barnaby headcanon #barnaby x you #barnaby x reader #welcome home barnaby

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lucky-mayfly · 1 year ago

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You'd have thought making my presence known on here would have caused my coworks to cut down on the blatant lack of mutuality in their posts, but no...

#The write ups are practically doing themselves

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mirror-to-the-past · 8 days ago

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Oh yeah also Kris and Ralsei give such Ella Enchanted vibes. That's the last thing I wanted to say, k, night y'all

#mr 'park your butt right there' mr 'turns into whatever the fuck you ask for in any given moment'#and then meanwhile kris is out here doing malicious compliance or interpreting actions when they are vague enough #so that they can still feel autonomy or act in ways true to themselves #'ok yeah I'll open the door to Asriel's web history- but my eyes are closed'#'sure I'll say this thing you want me to that I don't agree with in the weirdest way possible so everyone around me #figures I'm lying or picks up on weird undertones'#or- in a more silly topic- 'show compassion = mutual splat on floor'#kris and ralsei truly are two bearers of the obedience curse in their own ways lol match made in heaven of wonky personhood #deltarune spoilers #deltarune chapter 4 #deltarune #I really do love Kris so much #the biggest tragedy of deltarune is that I love what I know of Kris' character and want to know more about them #but we can't both exist- Kris can't express their full influence without my own presence and desires impressing upon them somewhat #I can try to be a benevolent dictator- pick options that I think would benefit or even align with Kris #but I'm still a parasite tainting how they bond with others and straining their very mannerisms #I wish we could both coexist... my poor child... I like them so much but they cant stand me out of practicality and discomfort at least #and strong guilt and moral opposition at worst #in many ways it feels allegorical of remaining as a parental figure in the life of an aging child who is reaching for independence #you can be kind and want the best for them- but your mere presence may restrain how they are able to learn and feel themselves as a person #kris is the aging child I want to nurture- and kris is the stifled one #sorry the coming of age narratives are makin my brain a certain way #people often get rightly frustrated of what often feels like a wide media obsession of exploration of adolescence fiction #as opposed to exploring other developmental stages- and I agree in that I would love more stories centered around honest portrayals of #the elderly (if you have books/movies/shows suggestions hmu)#but deltarune and other stuff (kh twewy etc) really is reminding me of just how compelling adolescence can be when paired with the fantastic #like. sure we're all doing crazy wild magic shit but tear back the curtain and it's all about these kids who are weird and misplaced #and their integration into the wider world is magnified by this magical and desperate world of a medium #and just. agh I love it. I understand why writing about teenagehood is fun. it's so honest and vulnerable at its best- like in deltarune #I see aspects of myself in all these funny guys from when I was younger and it's. making me feel things again

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ephemeral-winter · 7 months ago

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oh boy another literary studies blog post-cum-article on the function of the imagination vis a vis archiving that fails to cite any work from actual archival studies!!!!

#but yet again cites hartman (who i do love to be clear!!!) and derrida #i don't believe in calling out grad students by name but keywords here are upenn archives 19C novel #or just dm me if you want to know lol #as a theory hoe i do. like. respect the urge to theorize 'enclosures' (not what this article ends up doing) and archival limitations etc #but also! archivists are not not thinking about this themselves!!!#we've got articles too! we're also coming up with practical workarounds!#at least this time the author glancingly refers to the existence of the finding aid?#though continuing to ignore the archival labor that went into producing it :)#on the flip side of course many archivists are dumb as rocks and most saa publications are actively hostile to good writing. but still #as somebody without a phd but who spends a lot of time professionally and socially around those who do: respect the archivist or else!!!!

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lilac-melody · 1 year ago

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...Not tonight though. I have work in the morning.

#(has to be up in less than 6 hours)#i hope work gets delayed or cancelled again....that would be so awesome...#sigh....though i cant imagine w all the snow and ice we'll be very busy...even though its our big discount day #ugh...#Well anyway... i THINK i have an okay grasp on the characters #im a lil hesitant. 58 chapters wasnt enough for me to really grasp onto them #i need to understand characters inside and out before i can write them. When i can enter my hyperfocus writing mode #its easy to let the characters write themselves and im nothing but their vessel. helping them move along.#for me writing isnt like being a puppeteer controlling puppets. The characters do the work.#a Vessel is the best way to describe how i feel when i truly write.#the world around me disappears and the story pans out. Sometimes i get so into it i practically turn into my protagonist #so...im not Quite sure im at that point yet where i can let these beloved chars write themselves #let alone what situation to let them get themselves into #hmm.#ill try to think of smthin.#there isnt a whole lotta info out there abt the chars tho so i cant rely on that many sources or interpretations #its gonna be shaky at best if i do write them...#which my writing is Always shaky when i cant fully get into it. Thats how it be #when im unfocused it shows in my writing.#i have to let my subconsciousness drift and let my mind warp to another reality...#anyway hi im sane if you read all this!!

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universalsatan · 2 years ago

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who cares if there’s a midterm for it next week. what if i wrote twin peaks gay fanfiction during my 400 level biochem lecture tomorrow morning

#i keep on getting into bed to read my lil nighttime fics and being like #damn i wanna read some more of what i wrote too. cause it appeals Directly to me #but im always too fuckin tired to write anymore. like i have over 10k i think of the long overdue manslut luke chapter #i just gotta finish the other parts but i havent had the time or energy to write lately. which Also means im outta practice. im gonna scream #litchrally why i was like ‘i wanna write a harry truman dale cooper fanfic’ and then sat down and wrote an academic paper #not entirely but it took me over a thousand words talking about the eye to be like ‘hm maybe i should split this into scenes with the actual #characters themselves so readers know this is actually in fact about the characters and is not just some fucked up wikipedia article’#im so fuckin tired. why is my chronic exhaustion coming back already. can i Please do well in classes and also not mentally die #mandont

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cyberllfe · 2 years ago

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Hi. I'm the ghost that likes to read your stuff. I just read Made For Me, and it was quite the fun ride. I unfortunately cannot leave you a quality review, as I am no wordsmith, but you did inspire me to dust off this fic I was working on:

Like I said, writing isn't my forte. In theory, I can discern what divides quality smut from an attempt that has room for growth. In practice it's a bit harder to demonstrate (laughs). My writing reeks of amateur, but just maybe, you can have an iota of fun like I did reading your stuff.

ashdksuds YELLING

thank you!! I’m so pleased you enjoyed tailor nines, but not only that, you brought me a SNIPPET? you have my curiosity and my attention. I LOVE the vibe of this. The tension! The immediacy! His commanding presence 😏 sounds to me like someone’s caused a little trouble and is about to find out the consequences ✨

thank you, again, bc it’s lovely to receive this sort of thing. it always means a lot to have a work enjoyed, but to inspire another writer is even better. no such thing as too many filthy hot fics 😌

just one thing: I think you’re selling yourself pretty short, honestly. being an amateur isn’t the same as being a Bad Writer™, and besides “good” writing is so subjective (especially within fandom) that it’s not the most useful label. I think what we as part of a fandom look for is the heart you find in fic, and that comes from an author pouring part of themselves into it in a way you don’t always get with the source material. write what you want, what you enjoy, and it’ll reach other people who’ll enjoy it too.

you should count me among them 👀

#squeezing you gently and kissing your forehead #I wish I had some of my Oldest work to show you bc like #CACKLING it bears no resemblance to my style now #I’ve been writing over 15 years on and off #so I’ve had a LONG fuckin time to practice and suss out how I personally like to write #and more importantly how I dont #writing isn’t easy… and it’s not like there’s a shortcut. you learn by doing #we all have room for growth #for anyone who doubts themselves. I recommend #to check their most recent work against one from a month ago. or longer #and just look at the differenceeeeee #one thing I love about our writing community #is how much you learn and absorb just from talking to other authors and reading their works #there are so many different kinds of storytellers #out here!! for free!! in their own personal time!!!#sigh I’m waxing lyrical again #I’m going to shut up #but thank you again #I always love to meet another author #I’m excited to see what you write✨#asks #skibbit-biskit

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complainblogforthevoid · 3 months ago

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I've finally figured out an argument that convinces coding tech-bros that AI art is bad.

Got into a discussion today (actually a discussion, we were both very reasonable and calm even through I felt like committing violence) with a tech-bro-coded lady who claimed that people use AI in coding all the time so she didn't see why it mattered if people used AI in art.

Obviously I repressed the surge of violence because that would accomplish nothing. Plus, this lady is very articulate, the type who makes claims and you sit there thinking no that's wrong it must be but she said it so well you're kind of just waffling going but, no, wait-- so I knew I had to get this right if I was gonna come out of this unscathed.

The usual arguments about it being about the soul of it and creation fell flat, in fact she was adamant that anyone who believed that was in fact looking down at coding as an art form as she insisted it is. Which, sure, you can totally express yourself through coding. There's a lot more nuance as to the differences but clearly I was not going to win this one.

The other people I was with (literally 8 people anti-ai against her, but you can't change the mind of someone who doesn't want to listen and she just kept accusing us of devaluing coding as an art) took over for I kid you not 15 minutes while I tried desperately to come up with a clear and articulate way to explain the difference to her. They tried so many reasonable arguments, coding being for a function ("what, art doesn't serve a function?") coding being many discrete building blocks that you put together differently, and the AI simply provides the blocks and you put it together yourself ("isn't that what prompt building is") that it's bad for the environment ("but not if it's used for capitalism, hm?" "Yeah literally that's how capitalism works it doesn't care about the environment" she didn't like that response)

But I finally got it.

And the answer is: It's not about what you do, it's about what you claim to be.

Imagine that someone asks an AI to write a code and, by some miracle, it works perfectly without them having to tweak it---which is great because they couldn't tell you what a single solitary thing in that code means.

Now imagine this person, with their code that they don't know how it works, goes and applies to be a coder somewhere, presenting this AI code as proof that they're qualified.

Should they be hired?

She was horrified, of course. Of course they shouldn't be. They're not qualified. They can't actually code, and even if by some miracle they did have an AI successfully write a flawless code for every issue they came across that wouldn't be their code, you could hire any shmuck on the street to do that, no reason to pay someone like they're creating something.

When actual engineers use AI what they do is get some kind of base, which they then go though and check for problems and then if they find any they fix them, and add on to the base code with their own knowledge instead of just trying different prompt after prompt until they randomly come across one that works.

People who generate code like this don't usually call themselves engineers. They're people who needed a bit of code and didn't have the knowledge to generate it, and so used a resource.

And there you go. There are people who have none of the skills of artists, they don't practice, they don't create for themselves. When they feed the prompt to the AI they then don't just use the resulting image as a reference point for their own personal masterpiece, and if they don't like it they don't have the skills to change it---they simply try another prompt, and do that until they get something they like.

These people are calling themselves artists.

Not only that, these people are bringing the AI generated thing to interviews, and they are getting hired, leaving people who slave over their craft out of the job.

And that is the difference, for the tech bros who think AI art isn't a big deal.

#complaintblog #anti ai art #fuck ai art

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hoshigray · 2 years ago

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𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!”

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family.

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.”

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?”

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?”

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.”

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about.

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner.

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.”

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years.

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink.

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo.

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow.

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone.

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.”

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.”

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.”

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.”

“Still traumatized from that one time?”

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.”

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great.

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…”

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty.

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?”

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!”

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!”

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.”

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs.

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street.

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights.

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way.

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.”

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come.

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow.

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.”

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse.

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body.

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!”

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body.

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.”

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?”

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.”

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side.

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs.

“Will do.”He whistles.

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point.

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.”

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.”

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.”

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?”

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you.

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.”

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired.

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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