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buckysleftbicep · 3 days ago

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in too deep 𐙚 b.b

pairing: dom!new avenger!bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, fingering, orgasm denial, publi(ish) teasing, dirty talk do not operate heavy machinery after reading

summary: you told bucky it was your ovulation week and he took that as a challenge. you really, really, should’ve kept your mouth shut. based on this request | requests are open!

word count: 3k

author's note: hi my loves! i had too much fun writing this and i love it so much! i'm so excited to start working on the other requests that i have received 💓. have a great time reading, love ya and stay safe out there!

You should’ve kept your damn mouth shut.

It was just a whisper, a breathy, heat-laced confession, murmured with your face buried against Bucky’s throat last night while straddling his lap.

The compound was quiet, the television playing some netflix movie neither of you were watching. His hand had been sliding slow, comforting circles across your lower back, and your thighs were clenched tight around his hips, slick with want.

You hadn’t meant to say it, but your hormones clearly had other plans.

“It’s my ovulation week,” you breathed, nuzzling against his stubble. Your voice trembled with need, barely a sound. “Everything… feels extra.”

His hand had stopped, just for a second.

Then, danger. Pure danger. The way his fingers tightened possessively at your waist, the low hum he gave in response, and that glint in his eyes, it was not just mischief, his gaze was hungry almost as if he couldn’t wait to claim you.

That’s when you knew you were in trouble.

Now, the next morning, you’re standing in the mirrored gym on trembling legs with a kettlebell in your hand, sweat sliding down your spine, and your boyfriend is watching you like he’s about to drag you into the nearest closet and fuck you into the drywall. Not that you minded though.

He’s leaning against the wall across the mat. Casual on the surface. But the tension in his jaw and the weight in his stare?

It was anything but casual.

His sweatpants hang low on his hips, framing the sharp cut of his v-line and doing absolutely nothing to hide the thick, heavy outline of his cock beneath the cotton. His black tank is soaked through from sparring, clinging to the hard planes of his chest and abs like a second skin.

Bucky's got that calculated look in his eye almost like he’s pretending to assess your form, but really, he’s picturing bending you over the nearest bench and wrecking you six ways from Sunday.

You shift on your feet, stretch your arms overhead, arch just enough to let your back curve and your chest push forward.

If he’s going to tease you, you’ll tease back.

That’s your first mistake.

The second is letting out a moan, quiet, soft, instinctual as you bend down to touch your toes. It was barely audible, but he hears it.

The moment it escapes your lips, his eyes flash. And then, he moves.

Not a walk. A stalk.

He pushes off the wall and prowls toward you across the mat, slow and deliberate, like a wolf scenting its prey.

You straighten up too quickly, nearly dropping the kettlebell.

“Need a spotter?” he drawls, his voice pitched low and lazy, but his eyes rake over you like he’s already got you on your knees. “Or are you just making those noises for fun?”

You swallow, trying to look as unimpressed as possible. “Just warming up.”

He hums, circling behind you.

You feel the heat of him before he touches you, his presence like the sun, warm and overwhelming. You can smell him, too, sweat and cedar and something feral. And then, he kneels behind you, dragging his palms slowly up the backs of your thighs like he’s not in the compound's gym right now.

“Mm,” he murmurs. “We should stretch you out more.”

Your breath catches.

He parts your legs wider, his metal hand sliding between your inner thighs to nudge them open. You gasp as the fabric of your shorts pulls taut across your aching core, the pressure sweet and cruel.

“Bucky—” you whisper, heart racing.

“Shhh.” His breath ghosts over the curve of your ass. “You’re being so good. Standing still like this. Letting me see just how fuckin’ desperate you are.”

His fingers dance under the hem of your shorts, barely grazing your skin. Teasing your soaked, sensitive flesh without mercy, but he doesn’t touch you where you need though. Just close enough to ruin you.

“You’ve been wet since last night, haven’t you?” he murmurs. “Could feel you clenching around nothing when you were grinding on my lap. Bet you soaked through your panties when you slept.”

You tremble, the heat between your legs now unbearable. You want to scream, maybe even cry, perhaps drag him into the supply closet and beg him to fuck you until you can’t walk.

And he knows it.

“You told me it’s your ovulation week dollface” he whispers, voice dark and sinful. “That means this little pussy’s hungry, huh? Just aching to get filled.”

“God, you’re evil,” you whisper through your teeth, trying not to fall apart in front of the squat rack.

He chuckles. Presses a kiss to the side of your thigh. And then—he stands. Just like that.

Leaves you there, shaking, soaked and empty.

You spin around, panting, barely restraining the urge to launch your kettlebell at his head.

Bucky smirks, that infuriating, self-satisfied look that says he’s enjoying your torment a little too much.

“I think Yelena’s done with the sparring mat,” he says, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Why don’t you grab it, sweetheart?”

Your face burns and your clit throbs. And Bucky walks off like he didn’t just edge you in the damn compound gym.

You turn and meet Yelena’s smug grin.

She’s still jogging on the treadmill but slows to a bounce-walk as she tosses you a towel. “You look like you need a different kind of workout, sweetheart.”

“Don't.”

Yelena leans on the handrails. “No, no, I’m just saying—” she lifts an eyebrow— “the mat isn’t the only thing that’s going to get stretched out today.”

You throw the towel at her face.

She catches it mid-air, laughing.

“Tell Bucky to let you finish next time,” she calls as you storm off to the locker room, “Or at least let us know so we can film it!”

Somewhere near the dumbbells, Bob chokes on his protein shake.

You don’t even know what this briefing is about.

There’s a map stretched across the table, John is mid-rant about “optimal insertion points,” Alexei’s chewing sunflower seeds with the enthusiasm of a man watching spring training, Ava is checking her knives for the third time, Yelena’s leaned back in her chair, scrolling through her phone, occasionally snorting at whatever she’s watching.

And Bob, well Bob is asleep.

But none of it matters.

Because Bucky is sitting next to you. And his fingers are buried between your thighs.

From the outside, everything looks innocent. His flesh hand rests gently in your lap, your own placed demurely over his like the two of you are just quietly close, sweet, even.

But beneath the table, where no one can see, his metal hand is sliding past the waistband of your shorts with deliberate, devastating precision.

He doesn’t even pretend to rush. Two thick fingers move in slow, torturous circles over your clit, skimming with maddening pressure, barely enough to satisfy, but just enough to make your legs tremble.

Your breath catches, body frozen in place, every muscle tight with restraint. He knows exactly what he’s doing, how to touch you just right, how to coax those tiny, helpless reactions from you while you try to sit still and pretend you’re paying attention to a goddamn map.

His fingers stroke like he has all the time in the world, like there isn't a room full of operatives around you and a mission briefing happening overhead. A soft whimper curls in your throat and dies behind your teeth.

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to catch more friction, but that only makes him chuckle under his breath, barely audible and smug as sin.

And still, he doesn’t go deeper. Doesn't give you what you're aching for. Just keeps circling, teasing, controlling. Like this is a game, and you’re already losing, pathetically.

You sit stiffly, back ramrod straight, every muscle locked as you try not to make a sound. Your tablet is open in front of you, gripped so tight your knuckles ache and it's the only thing grounding you in this room while your body burns.

He leans in, voice low, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soaked,” he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in it. “You really gonna cum in front of the team, princess?”

Your breath hitches. “Bucky,” you whisper, voice sharp like a warning, like a prayer.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, his touch gets lazier. Crueler. His cold vibranium fingers part your folds like he owns every inch of you, and he dips just barely inside, only to pull away, dragging the wetness back up to swirl gently over your clit again.

“You said you needed me,” he continues, brushing his nose against your temple. “Said your body’s beggin’ for it. I’m just helping”

“Are you two doing this again?” Yelena asks flatly, without even looking up. Her tone is dry as dust. “She’s vibrating like she’s possessed, someone get her a snack before she faints.”

You glare daggers at her, but it’s weak, your body is already betraying you.

Alexei squints at you across the table. “I thought she had blood sugar issue”

“She’s ovulating,” Bucky announces casually, not even bothering to lower his voice.

Ava groans. “Jesus, Barnes, you can’t just say that.”

“She told me,” he shrugs, like he’s reading weather reports. “I’m being supportive.”

You make a choked sound as he presses down harder in tight, purposeful circles now, inescapable. Your hips twitch without your permission, Bucky's not even fucking you yet, but you can already feel the orgasm winding tight in your belly like a wire stretched too thin.

“I hate you,” you grind out under your breath, nails digging crescents into your palm.

He turns just enough to meet your eyes, that wicked glint in his blue gaze that makes your lungs seize. “Say that again when you’re cumming on my fingers, pretty girl.”

But he doesn’t let you get there.

Each time your body trembles on the cusp, he pulls back, slows, teasing you with strokes so feather-light they feel like punishment.

You’re soaked, shaking, every inch of your skin flushed with heat. He’s wrecking you in silence, in full view of your teammates, and no one’s the wiser, save for the few who clearly suspect exactly what’s happening under the table.

“Bucky,” you beg, barely audible, lips barely moving. “Please.”

He tilts his head, brushing his mouth over the corner of yours. “Not here, sweetheart.” His voice is velvet, low and dark and dripping with promise. “You wanna be bred, honey? Stuffed full like you’re meant to be?” You whimper, and he smirks. “Then you’ll wait.”

“Okay,” Walker claps his hands like a kindergarten teacher trying to salvage control, clearly frustrated. “Unless Bucky would like to finish fucking his girlfriend under the table, can we maybe circle back to the infiltration routes?”

“Bold of you to assume he hasn’t started,” Yelena mutters, not even glancing up from her screen.

You want the ground to swallow you whole. Or set the whole damn briefing room on fire. Maybe both.

Bucky withdraws his hand with excruciating slowness, fingers slick with your arousal. He doesn’t bother hiding it. Instead, he drags them along the inside of your thigh, leaving a glistening trail before wiping them off on your skin like he’s branding you. A silent, possessive mark that has your breath catching in your throat.

He leans back in his chair like nothing happened, legs spread in that display of dominance, expression unreadable but infuriatingly smug.

Completely relaxed. Completely in control.

And you? You’re ruined. Wrung out and twitching. Every nerve ending crackling with frustration, your body screaming for the release he just denied you.

Then he turns again, tilting his head so his lips hover at the shell of your ear, voice so low it shivers through your bones.

“Kitchen. Twenty minutes. Don’t wear panties.”

You almost beat him there.

Almost.

You're already perched on the edge of the kitchen island, legs swinging slightly, thighs pressed tight together in a poor attempt to dull the ache pulsing through your core. Your shorts are somewhere back in your room, discarded in your frenzy to get here fast enough, and you’re bare underneath his black t-shirt, no panties, no shame.

Just soaked thighs and need.

The cotton of his tee clings to your skin, damp with sweat and arousal. Your nipples are pebbled against the fabric, the cool air in the kitchen brushing over them each time you shift. You’re a mess of frustration and anticipation—hot, dripping, ruined—and all because he didn’t let you finish at that stupid meeting.

Then the sound of footsteps.

He strides in like he owns the whole fucking building—sweatpants hanging low on his hips, dark tank sticking to his chest, muscles flexed, jaw tight. But it’s his eyes that stop your breath. Cerulean blue, blazing and feral.

He takes one look at you—legs spread, thighs gleaming, lips parted in silent plea and something in him snaps.

He crosses the space in two steps and his hands are already on you.

“You waited like a good girl, huh?” he rasps, voice wrecked and raw, lifting the shirt up and over your chest. “Sittin’ here all wet and desperate, no fuckin’ panties like I told you. Fuck.”

You don’t get the chance to answer—he’s already kissing you. Hard and possessive. Open-mouthed and filthy, all tongue and teeth and the sharp edge of punishment. You moan against his mouth, clawing at his waistband, nails scraping the hard lines of his hips.

His vibranium hand slides between your legs and you nearly sob. He groans into your mouth as he feels how wet you are, how ready.

“Been leaking for me all fuckin’ day,” he growls, dragging slick fingers through your folds. “You know what I want, don’t you, baby? Want that sweet little cunt full. Stuffed so deep you feel me for days.”

“Please,” you pant, grinding shamelessly against his hand, desperate. “Need it—need you to fill me up, Bucky, please—”

That’s all he needs.

He spins you around and bends you over the island, chest pressed to cool marble, ass bared and ready. There’s no teasing this time. No patience. You feel the thick, blunt heat of him at your entrance and brace yourself—

Then he slams into you with a brutal thrust.

You cry out, loud and unrestrained, one hand slapping the counter, the other gripping the edge like a lifeline. Bucky bottoms out instantly, stretching you open, splitting you around the thick length of him.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips. “Tight fuckin’ pussy. You were made to be filled by me.”

He sets a relentless pace, hips slamming into your ass, the sound obscene and echoing off the tiled walls. Each thrust drives your body forward, forces breath from your lungs, drags you closer to the edge with reckless, punishing efficiency.

“You want it in you, huh?” he pants, gripping your hips like he’ll never let go. “Gonna fuck you full, baby. Gonna fill that greedy pussy ‘til it’s dripping down your thighs. Want my cum deep, want me to breed this needy little cunt?”

“Yes!” you scream. “Fuck, yes, yes, please, Bucky, fill me,"

He snarls, pace turning savage. “Gonna take it. Gonna fuck a baby into you right here on the goddamn counter. My needy little slut, my good girl.”

You unravel, shaking, twitching, walls spasming around him as your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure burning through your bloodstream, exploding behind your eyes. You sob his name, voice wrecked.

Bucky’s right behind you.

He grits out a curse and drives in deep, cock twitching as he spills inside you, hot, thick and endless. He keeps grinding forward as if he could somehow fuck his cum deeper, claim every inch of you from the inside out.

And then you heard voices and footsteps from the hall.

Yelena’s voice rang out, “You know we eat food on that counter, right? Like with our mouths?

Alexei exclaims, “Walker owe me twenty bucks!”

John retorts, dry as ever “at least she's not complaining now.” Ava laughed, “Told you they wouldn’t make it to sunset”

And you could vaguely hear Bob asking if they were supposed to see this.

You bury your face in your arms, groaning. “Kill me. Kill me now.”

Bucky chuckles, actual laughter, low and warm, chest shaking against your back, he presses a kiss to the base of your neck, then another to your spine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

He pulls out slowly, a filthy squelch of sound following, then hums when your thighs glisten with his release. “Look at that,” he says softly. “Already leaking. Just how I like it.”

You melt when he wraps his arms around you from behind, chest to your back, still warm and panting.

“You did so good for me,” he whispers, brushing your hair off your cheek. “So perfect. Gonna clean you up, put you in bed, and hold you all night. You earned it, needy girl.”

You sigh, body boneless.

And when he lifts you off the counter like you weigh nothing, bridal style, you don’t even resist. You just curl into his chest, letting yourself be carried away, dripping and satisfied.

“I love you,” he says softly into your hair as he walks past the rest of the team like you two didn’t just fuck in a common area.

Despite everything, despite the chaos, the teasing, the way he just wrecked you in the kitchen, you smile.

“I love you too.”

Even if you’re banned from the kitchen forever.

a/n: thank you so much for reading my sweethearts! ❤️ please leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! it keeps me motivated 🥰

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loljaeyunz · 3 days ago

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only ever you. [jakehoon x reader]

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: You're mad at your boyfriends over something dumb, and they make it their mission to make you forget why you were even mad.

Warnings: established poly relationship, smut, soft doms!jakehoon, kinda bratty reader at first but she melts, brat taming? (not really, idk like its so vague), mxm (just kissing and a finger sucking :p), abs riding, looots of praising, brief tit play, worshiping, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, your honor they're so in love.

a/n: this work is a purely self-indulgent fic, born from my deepest desires yall. which is: me wanting two boyfriends who love me and each other... is that really too much to ask? 😞 btw ts is nasty but like in a very loving kind of nasty, so beware.

"So this is how you're gonna act? Ignoring us?” Jake said as he followed you upstairs like a puppy.

“I am not ignoring anyone.”

“Uh-huh, because you ghosting all of my texts was my imagination, of course, baby.” Sunghoon remarked, he was also following you, just behind Jake.

You sighed, barging into your room like a teen that just argued with her parents. Your intention was to slam the door in their faces but Jake caught it with the sole of his sneaker, wedging his foot between the frame and the door before it could crash shut. You sighed harder this time, throwing yourself on your bed to slide reels.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that. You knoo that’s just our job, none of it meant anything.” Sunghoon crawled on the bed towards you. You shrugged, keeping your focus on your phone.

Jake climbed onto the bed next, kneeling at your feet and facing you like he was trying to get into your line of sight. His pretty hands were braced on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly stroking over the fabric of your sweats like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Still, you didn’t look up. Not even when you could see, out of the corner of your eye, that Jake was pulling his best puppy eyes and pout combo.

“Pretty girl, stop that, hmm? We didn’t intentionally ghost you. Our phones were taken, that’s why we couldn’t text you.”

You didn’t doubt your boyfriends. You trusted them, you knew where their hearts were, who they came home to, who they whispered goodnight to over FaceTime when schedules got crazy. Of course you knew that, and of course you knew you shouldn’t be petty about these things anymore. But it never helped that seeing your boyfriends smile at other girls still got under your skin. It was stupid, you told yourself. Immature. You weren’t seventeen and insecure anymore. And yet, there you were, scrolling through the videos of engenes from today’s event with a tight knot in your stomach and a petty little scowl on your face.

You were right in the middle of zooming in on a photo of one of the girls touching Jake’s arm when Sunghoon snatched your phone clean out of your hands.

“Hey–” you started, but he was already frowning at the screen like it offended him personally.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” he muttered, locking the phone with a dramatic press of his thumb before tossing it somewhere behind him on the bed.

You lunged forward to reach for it, a glare already forming on your face, but Sunghoon was faster. One hand caught your wrist mid reach, the other pressing flat against your shoulder as he gently shoved you back down against the pillows.

“Nu-uh,” he said, voice low as he hovered over you slightly, palm flat against your stomach to keep you in place. “You’re dropping that brat act right now, baby.”

You thrashed beneath him in frustration, your legs kicking uselessly at the mattress, arms squirming under his weight, but Sunghoon didn’t budge an inch. If anything, he looked mildly entertained, his brows raised like he was watching a particularly dramatic toddler throw a tantrum. Jake stayed quiet at your feet, eyes flicking between the two of you, but not interfering.

“Let me go, you asshole,” you snapped, wriggling harder. “You said – you said – I could have space! I literally walked away and then you followed me and now Jake’s all pouty, and you’re acting like some – some manipulative parent, and I swear to God, you two are the most annoying shitheads–”

Your rant didn’t get to finish. Sunghoon leaned down and kissed you.

The kiss wasn’t sweet or slow. It was firm and a little rough, the kind of kiss that silenced you mid-sentence and made your breath hitch. His hand was still splayed across your stomach, keeping you pinned just enough to let you know he wasn’t playing around.

By the time he pulled back, your breath had hitched, your glare had softened and your voice was nowhere to be found.

“Better.” he muttered, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. “Now, do you want to keep yelling, or are you gonna let us fix it?”

You scoffed, turning your head to the side like you weren’t already breathless from the way he kissed you. Your glare might’ve softened, sure, but you weren’t about to hand over the reins that easily. Especially, not when Sunghoon thought he could kiss the attitude out of you.

Your brows stayed furrowed, lips pursed in defiance. Sunghoon smoothed a thumb between your brows anyway.

“Stop scowling,” he said softly, still hovering over you. “You’ll get wrinkles.”

You gave him the flattest look imaginable. “You literally just kissed me to shut me up.”

“And it worked, didn’t it?” he said with zero shame, glancing back at Jake, who was still kneeling at your feet with his chin resting on your knee, clearly waiting for his turn to speak.

Jake shifted finally, crawling up from where he’d been stationed at your feet, the mattress dipping as he shifted to hover beside you. His knee brushed beside your hip, and soon he was hovering over you too, shoulder to shoulder with Sunghoon, their presence overwhelming in the way you secretly liked.

Your eyes flicked up, ready to shoot him a warning, but the moment you did, something else caught your attention: Jake’s necklace, the silver chain swaying ever so slightly, dangling down as he leaned over you. The little charm brushing against your collarbone when he leaned just a bit closer, smiling gently, eyes searching yours.

You hated how your eyes followed the chain, distracted for half a second too long.

“You’re really mad at us, pretty?”

You blinked, your eyes darting between his necklace, his eyes, and the way his hand settled just beside your head on the pillow. God, they were so annoying. And kind. And pretty. And yeah, maybe you were still scowling. But it was getting harder to pretend you’re not affected by them.

Jake’s hand rose to your throat, thick and long fingers wrapping around. But he didn’t squeeze, not even a little press. He just let his hand rest there.

At the same time, Sunghoon’s hand began to move slowly, sliding lower where it had been resting against your stomach. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, letting his fingertips trail just above the waistband of your sweats.

You swallowed hard, your throat shifting under Jake’s palm. He, of course, felt it, and his thumb ghosted across your jaw in response – so soft it made you shiver.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively the moment you felt it, that warm, sticky sensation beginning to pool between your legs, heat blooming low in your stomach. You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your face neutral, but Sunghoon’s eyes flicked down. He noticed.

His hand didn’t stop this time. It dipped lower, fingertips skimming past the waistband of your sweat. He moved slowly, too fucking slowly, giving you every opportunity to stop him. But you didn’t.

Jake leaned down, his necklace brushing your collarbone again, and his breath fanned across your cheek as he spoke, “How about you let Sunghoonie check if you are mad or not?”

Your lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

Sunghoon didn’t need your permission at that point, your body had already given him everything he needed. His fingers slipped past the band of your panties until they met bare skin. You sucked in a sharp breath, your whole body tensing as he found exactly what he was looking for.

You were soaked, your pussy hot and slick against his fingers. His fingers moved further, parting your lips gently. Your breath hitched again, squirming a little.

He hummed, pleased, like he was proud of you. Like this was exactly the confirmation he wanted. “Thought so.” he muttered, the smirk in his voice practically audible.

Sunghoon’s index finger and middle finger scooped up your wetness before slowly pulling back. You shivered at the sensation. His hand hovered in the air for a moment, your slick glistening faintly on his fingers, catching the low light in the room like something holy and obscene all at once.

He tilted his hand slightly, inspecting it with a smug smile before glancing sideways at Jake. “She’s dripping down there, want a taste Jake?”

Jake’s tongue peeked out, barely wetting his bottom lip, his eyes dropping to Sunghoon’s hand. Sunghoon turned toward him fully and pressed those same fingers to Jake’s lips.

Jake didn’t even hesitate, lips parting obediently as Sunghoon pushed his fingers past them. He sucked them in slow, cheeks hollowing, eyes fluttering shut, a low moan slipping from the back of his throat like he was tasting something sweet.

You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. Jake’s lips wrapped around Sunghoon’s fingers so willingly, so prettily, his lashes fluttering like he was savoring every drop. You could hear the faint, wet sound of it, could feel the heat pulse harder between your thighs just watching the two of them.

And just when you thought that was the peak of it, Sunghoon leaned in.

You barely had time to process the movement before his fingers slipped free from Jake’s mouth, only to be replaced by something hotter, wetter.

His mouth.

His hand curled behind Jake’s neck, pulling him closer, and you swore you felt the air leave your lungs as their mouths moved together. Tongues tangling.

Sunghoon chased the taste of you now lingering on Jake’s tongue. You watched Jake melt into it, his free hand sliding up to fist in Sunghoon’s shirt, both of them kissing like they were starved, like you weren’t even in the room, and yet everything about it was for you.

It was filthy. And so, so beautiful. You even forgot why you were mad.

Your breath came faster, the room was getting warmer. Your clothes started sticking to your skin. The sight of them kissing like that with your taste between them, made your hips shift involuntarily, like your body was trying to reach for something, anything. You were sure your panties were ruined by now.

Jake pulled back first with a wet pop, his lips swollen, his eyes hooded. He looked dazed and wrecked yet he smiled.

Sunghoon turned to you, expression almost the same as Jake’s. “Are you still mad at your pretty boyfriends, baby?”

You didn’t answer with words.

Instead, your hand reached up and curled into the collar of Sunghoon’s shirt, tugging him down with enough force to knock the air out of both of you. He barely caught himself on his elbows, chest hovering over yours, his breath catching as your mouth crashed into his.

It was messy. Hungry. Just as fevered and wild as the kiss he’d given Jake moments ago, maybe more.

Sunghoon groaned softly into your mouth, the sound melting into you like smoke. His lips moved eagerly, parting for you as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. His body pressed into yours, the full weight of him almost collapsing on top of you as he tried to keep himself steady.

Then he bit your lower lip. You gasped, and he took full advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your moans bled into the kiss, your thighs clenching again at the sound, the feel, the need.

And somewhere in the haze of it, while your hands were tangled in Sunghoon’s hair and your lips swollen from his bite, you felt Jake shift beside you. You couldn’t see him fully because of Sunghoon’s body.

Then came the tug at your waistband, his big hands on your hips. You lifted your hips without thinking, without breaking the kiss, offering yourself up wordlessly.

Jake pulled your sweats down inch by inch, and your panties followed, sticking to the heat between your legs before peeling away. The cool air met your skin and you shivered.

Jake’s fingers brushed your thighs as he tugged the clothes down to your knees, then further, until you felt the soft drape of fabric being discarded somewhere across the room.

Without warning, sunghoon broke the kiss.

His hands slid down to your waist, and before you could blink, he was moving, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him in one smooth, powerful motion. You gasped, a startled yelp escaping your lips as your body was lifted and shifted like you weighed nothing.

You didn’t even register what happened until it was done.

One moment you were pinned beneath him, and the next you were straddling him.

You sat atop his abdomen, your thighs spread around his torso, your bare heat pressed against the hard plane of his stomach where his shirt had ridden up. Your hands had flown to his chest to brace yourself, fingers splayed over the fabric, your eyes wide with shock.

“Sunghoon—” you started, breathless.

But he just smirked, looking up at you with that maddening calm, as if he hadn’t just manhandled you into place like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he wasn’t just making you go insane.

Then he tilted his head slightly, eyes dragging lazily down your body and back up, voice dropping into something quieter. “Why don’t you take my shirt off, baby?” he murmured. “Let you ride my abs properly.”

Your breath hitched.

Your fingers twitched against his chest, your mouth parting slightly in surprise. That... wasn’t something you’d ever said aloud. Not to him. Not to Jake. Not to anyone. But you had thought about it. You’d fantasized about it more than once, imagined exactly what it would feel like, pressed and grinding against firm muscle, nothing in between but skin and slick heat.

You didn’t even try to hide your eagerness. Your hands flew to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up his torso in one motion, and Sunghoon sat up just enough to help you pull it over his head. You tossed it aside, your eyes immediately dropping to his now bare chest.

And fuck.

Your mouth went dry. Your thighs instinctively squeezed tighter around his waist at the thoughts creeping in.

He smirked again, lazily, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Go on,” he said softly. “I’ve been working out just for you.”

God, he didn’t need to say, it showed. Your gaze stayed fixed on the cut lines of his stomach, his v-line disappearing beneath his sweats. You could see the way his muscles flexed subtly beneath your weight, his chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths. Your wetness started to drip down your inner thighs now, sliding against his skin, hot and humiliating and unbelievably arousing.

Somewhere from behind you, Jake let out a soft groan. “Pretty girl making a pretty mess on you Sunghoonie.”

Your cheeks burned.

Sunghoon’s hands stroked slowly up and down your waist, each pass of his palms dragging your shirt with it, lifting the hem ever so slightly, then letting it fall again. He wasnt urging you to move, just holding you there. Letting you take your time. Letting you look. Letting you want.

The friction of the shirt sliding against your torso made your skin hypersensitive, your breath hitching with every pass. But it was his eyes, the way he looked up at you that cocky smile still pulling at his lips that made your body move before your brain could catch up.

Your hips shifted. Lower. You pressed your bare cunt against the warm, hard plane of his abdomen, the ridges of his abs prominent beneath your slick folds. You let out a breathy whimper at the contact and your body reacted instinctively.

You started to move.

Slow at first, almost shy, rolling your hips in tentative little circles. Your wetness smeared against his skin, glistening on the taut muscle beneath you. The more you moved, the messier it got. Sticky, warm, heavenly, whatever you want to call it. You felt everything, the slight drag, the ridges of his body, the smoothness of his skin just enough to make it feel good.

Sunghoon hummed under his breath. His fingers gripped your waist a little tighter. “Baby... you look so good like this.”

You kept going, your pace picking up, the friction enhancing, so hot, so dirty, so unlike anything you’d ever let yourself do before. Shameless little moans fell from your lips, your body shuddering with each drag of your clit against him. But it wasn’t enough.

Yes, you loved it, loved the way it made you feel, the way it made Sunghoon look at you. But the friction was shallow, teasing, just barely scratching the edge of the ache building inside you.

You needed more.

As if Jake could read your mind, he came up behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth and sturdiness of him against your back. His hands slipped under your shirt in one smooth motion, palms warm and wide, sliding up your ribcage until they found your plush breasts.

You gasped, your back arching slightly into his touch. Jake’s hands molded around your breasts, the pads of his thumbs teasing over your nipples until they were stiff and aching. Each little pass sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, making your hips twitch harder against Sunghoon’s abs.

“ Knew you needed more.” he whispered into your ear.

He kissed your shoulder first. Then the next kiss was open mouthed, wetter. His tongue traced along the dip where your neck met your collarbone before his lips latched on, sucking until you whimpered. You tilted your head without thinking, giving him more access, your body pliant under his touch.

He hooked his fingers under the hem of your shirt and began to lift. The fabric rose inch by inch, grazing your stomach, your ribs, until it bunched just beneath your arms. He didn’t stop there. He pushed it higher, baring your breasts completely.

Jake groaned, low and proud. “Mmmh, she’s so so soft.”

Sunghoon’s eyes dragged up from your cunt to your tits, now fully on display as Jake cupped them again from behind, this time slower, more deliberate so could Sunghoon see every curve, everything. His fingers traced that curves, teasing the sensitive peaks, tugging lightly.

“She’s gorgeous.” Sunghoon murmured, and Jake agreed with a hum.

He pinched one nipple between his fingers and tugged gently, while his mouth found your neck again, licking the spot he’d just marked.

One of Jake’s hands left your tit, slipping lower, trailing down your stomach in a slow, torturous line. You knew what he was about to do before he even got there. Your hips stuttered in their rhythm for half a second before resuming, grinding harder against Sunghoon’s abs.

His fingers dipped lower, lower, until they found the mess between your legs.

“Shit…” he breathed, almost to himself. “Love how you get so wet every time.”

Jake didn’t tease, thankfully. He found your clit immediately, his middle finger rubbing slow circles over the swollen bud, syncing his movements to the rhythm of your hips.

The combination was instant, overwhelming. The friction of Sunghoon beneath you, the pressure of Jake’s finger just right, made your head fall back against Jake’s shoulder with a choked moan.

“Yeah, there she is.” Jake murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re close, pretty, don’t stop now.”

You couldn’t even think about stopping.

Your nails dug into Sunghoon’s chest as your hips rocked harder, chasing the way Jake’s finger rolled against your clit in perfect rhythm.

You whimpered when Jake added a two fingers, dipping low and pushing inside without warning, stretching you open with an obscene slick sound that made both of them groan.

“Fucking hell” Sunghoon muttered, his hands tightening on your waist so hard that it hurt.

But Jake kept going, his palm pressed firm against your mound while his fingers curled inside you while you rode both of them. Rode the drag of abs against your clit. Rode Jake’s fingers pressing up into that spot inside you. Rode the edge that had been building in your gut from the moment they laid hands on you.

Your thighs trembled. Your moans spilled out faster, desperate, helpless. You were almost crying now. You were so close.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go. Let Hoon feel how hard you fall apart for him.”

You chased it with everything you had, grinding messily, erratically until your body locked up, your breath caught in your throat, and your orgasm hit you so hard it knocked the wind from your lungs. You cried out, hips jerking uncontrollably as your pussy clenched around Jake’s fingers, soaking his hand and Sunghoon’s stomach in the same breathless wave.

You collapsed forward, panting, still twitching through the aftershocks, your head falling against Sunghoon’s chest. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your figure.

You felt Jake leaning in against your back, his lips were at your ear when he whispered, “That’s our girl.”

They let you breathe.

You laid there, trembling, chest heaving against Sunghoon’s bare skin. Your forehead rested just above his heart, the beat of it was calming. His arms tightened around your back, holding you to him like you were made of something precious and breakable.

“Did so good for us,” Sunghoon murmured, lips brushing the crown of your head. “So fucking beautiful, baby.”

His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles along your spine, easing the tremors still rippling through your limbs. He pressed soft kisses into your hair, onto your temple, and then just above your brow. You let yourself melt into him, every inch of your body boneless, content, loved.

You barely noticed the soft sound of rustling fabric behind you. Barely registered the shift of the mattress, the sound of a zipper, the thud of clothes being discarded onto the floor.

Until you felt something hard.

The thick press of something undeniably real nudging against your ass, the slick head brushing your skin.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you felt Jake, again, behind you, one large hand running up your spine. He exhaled a quiet groan at the sight of you sprawled like that, ruined and pliant between them. His other hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, lazily pumping himself as he leaned forward, lips brushing along the back of your shoulder.

`Ready for me?” He guided his length against your ass without waiting for a response, the tip brushing the swell of your cheek, dragging up and down slowly, deliberately, just to feel your skin shiver against him. His cock was heavy, hard, veins prominent along the shaft, the head flushed and leaking against your backside.

Sunghoon chuckled softly beneath you, feeling your breath hitch. “She’s so sensitive still,” he said gently, his fingers stroking your hair. “But I think she can take it, can’t you, baby?”

You just shifted your hips slightly, a soft movement of your ass pressing back into Jake, your legs spreading instinctively, inviting him in without a single word.

Jake cursed under his breath. “Fuck. I think we got our answer.”

His hand smoothed up your spine again, and then gently,so gently, he guided your hips to arch, pressing the curve of your back just right, making you rise onto your elbows against Sunghoon’s chest. He leaned forward, letting the head of his cock nestle between your cheeks, then lower, until it pressed against your already soaked entrance. He ran the tip along your folds, collecting your wetness, groaning softly at how slick and warm you were even now.

Next, the thick head of his cock breached you, stretching you open inch by inch until your eyes fluttered shut.

“Ohh my god, Jake–” you choked, the fullness making your limbs tremble.

Jake’s hand gripped your hip tighter. He didn’t stop until he was buried deep, every inch seated inside, snug and hot and overwhelming in a way that made your whole body quake.

Your mouth hung open, a moan spilling out as your arms trembled against Sunghoon’s chest. His hands cradled your ribs gently, his thumbs stroking soft, comforting lines as if to say, You’re okay. You’re doing so well.

“Jesus, baby,” Jake rasped behind you. “I love your cunt so much.”

Then he began to move.

A deep, fluid pull and a slow thrust back in, making your entire body lurch forward just slightly. Every time his hips met yours, the wet slap echoed through the room lewdly.

You cried out at the sensation, your head tilting back instinctively, spine arching deeper. You couldn’t restrain the sounds you were making even if you wanted.

The pressure. The pace. The sound of slick skin meeting slick skin. Your body rocked between the two of them, Jake’s thrusts driving into you from behind, your chest pressed to Sunghoon's as he whispered praises between kisses to your temple. All of it was mind blowing.

Your moans came in broken bursts, lips parted against Sunghoon’s skin, your fingers digging into his biceps like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Hey.” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the haze. His fingers cupped your jaw, guiding your gaze up to meet his. “Look at me.”

Your lashes fluttered, your lips trembling around another moan as you forced your eyes open, your vision blurred with tears from the intensity. You barely managed to focus on him, but his expression was impossible to miss; stern and adoring all at once.

“Who’s fucking you right now, baby?” he asked, his voice deadly smooth.

You whimpered, the question sinking deep into your already overwhelmed brain. You opened your mouth to answer but all that came out was a helpless, choked moan. Feeling Jake deep inside your gut didn’t help either.

Sunghoon leaned closer, his nose brushing yours, his voice even quieter now. “No, no. Use your words,” he whispered. “Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

Your mouth moved soundlessly for a second, lost in the chaos of your body’s pleasure. Jake was relentless behind you, his hand tightening on your hip, other hand tightly squeezing your shoulder.

“I–ah” yet you tried. “Jake–”

Sunghoon smirked, but his eyes stayed locked with yours, his thumb brushing your cheek gently.

“Yeah, he’s fucking you so good, isn’t he?”

You whimpered in response, unable to do much else, your body still jerking forward with each of Jake’s thrusts behind you. You were barely hanging on, your breath catching every time Jake’s hips slapped against your ass.

Sunghoon tilted his head, brushing his lips against yours, not quite kissing you yet, just breathing with you.

“You know he doesn’t fuck anyone else like this, right?” he murmured, the words threading into your ears like silk. “You’re the only one we come home to.”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, then the other, then finally pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “The only one we fall asleep beside.”

Jake groaned behind you, slowing just enough to make every deep push feel like a claim. “The only one we dream about.” he added, voice wrecked.

Sunghoon’s fingers found your chin again, tilting your face to look at him. “So don’t even let that pretty little head of yours worry about stupid shit like that again, yeah?”

You blinked through tears, your chest tightening at how gently he said them, how true they sounded even through the blur of pleasure.

“Only you,” Sunghoon whispered. “Only ever you, alright?”

Jake’s pace faltered after a couple of rough thrusts. His hips slowed, dragging through your walls with an almost unbearable languidness, giving you nothing but deep, shallow rolls that made your insides clench around him desperately.

You let out a broken sound, hips trying to follow him back, chasing more. “Jake…” you breathed .But Jake didn’t give in.

Instead, you felt both his hands wrap firmly around your waist. You gasped as he dragged you backwards, gently but firmly, shifting your body off of Sunghoon’s abdomen. Your cheek brushed the wrinkled sheets as Jake settled you on all fours in the middle of the bed, your thighs already trembling beneath you from all the sensations going on in your body.

You gasped and braced yourself fully on your arms, elbows digging into the mattress, shaking slightly.

Without needing to speak, Sunghoon seemed to understand exactly what Jake was doing.

He sat up slowly. Wordless, he moved up the bed until his back rested against the headboard, knees bent and legs spread. Just enough for you to see the sharp line of his erection pressing up against the front of his sweats.

Then he reached for you, his fingers brushing gently through the messy strands of hair that had stuck to your damp skin. He smoothed them back, tucking them behind your ear like you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.

After making sure your hair wouldn’t be in your way, Sunghoon pulled his sweats down just enough. His cock sprang free, hard, the tip wet and angry. One hand stayed tangled in your hair, the other wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking himself slowly.

Sunghoon's thumb brushed over your bottom lip as you blinked up at him, your eyes glassy, lips parted in anticipation.

“Open for me, baby.”

You did and he guided the tip of his cock to your mouth, smearing the wetness across your tongue before slowly easing in. Inch by inch, he fed it to you, watching your lips stretch around him, his jaw clenching the deeper he went.

“Just like that.” he dragged the words, hand tightening in your hair as he held your head still, not forcing, just… guiding.

Behind you, Jake moved too.

You barely had a moment to adjust before his hips snapped forward again, pulling a ragged moan from deep inside you, muffled by Sunghoon now. Jake’s grip on your waist returned. His pace began to build gradually.

Their rhythm was intoxicating. Jake thrusted harder now, each snap of his hips sending your body forward right onto Sunghoon’s cock, which glided deeper into your mouth every time you were rocked. And yet… they were careful with you. Gentle, in all the ways that made your body feel safe even in this situation. Worshipful, you could say that.

Jake’s fingers squeezed your hips, thumbs stroking over the bruises he was no doubt leaving behind. “You’re doing so good for– for me, oh fuck!” he rasped, the strain in his voice impossible to hide.

Sunghoon groaned softly, his hand grabbing the back of your neck, his other hand petting your hair.

Your legs were trembling, your arms no better, and the pleasure was building again. The stretch of Jake inside you, the salty taste of Sunghoon, the fullness, the heat, it was too much and not enough all at once. Your moans grew frantic, muffled.

“That’s it, pretty. Let go for us. Let go all over my cock. Let me feel how much you love being loved like this.”

You did as if his words were your cue. Your whole body locked up, a sob of pleasure escaping around Sunghoon’s cock as you came. Your body trembled more violently, walls fluttering around Jake, pulling him in deeper, squeezing him tight.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck–” Jake cursed loud, the rhythm of his hips faltering until he came to a stop. Hips pressed against your ass as he let his cum paint your insides. He leaned over your back to kiss your spine, panting against the sweaty skin.

And just as you were coming down from your high, Sunghoon exhaled sharply above you. His fingers tightened in your hair.

“I’m– fuck, baby, I’m gonna–ah–ah”

You looked up, your eyes still glassy, mouth still full, and you didn’t pull away, patiently waiting for him to release his seed down your throat.

Sunghoon moaned your name as his hips jerked, his head hitting back against the headboard with a thud. You tasted it before anything else, the warmth, the salt, his pleasure spilling onto your tongue as he held you close through it. You swallowed it all, Sunghoon’s hand finally left your head, dropping beside him mindlessly. His cock popped off your mouth with a wet sound, and your head lolled against his inner thigh to rest there.

You all stayed like that for a while.

Jake eventually slid out of you with a low grunt, his hands still holding your waist, gentle this time, as he caught his breath. The absence made you shiver.

Sunghoon didn’t speak. He just moved as if your body belonged in his arms. He leaned forward and scooped you up from all fours into his lap, cradling you sideways against his chest like you weighed nothing at all. His hands held you so carefully, one arm beneath your knees and the other at your back.

You melted into him, cheek pressed against the curve of his shoulder.

He kissed you softly, lazily, tasting the lingering salt on your tongue with a hum of satisfaction. Then he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath still warm and slightly uneven.

“Now, give us an actual answer, baby. Are you still mad?” he asked, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, the kind that only came when every inch of you was boneless and loved. “I don’t even remember what I was mad about.”

Sunghoon chuckled, nose brushing yours. He looked so pretty like this, sweaty, flushed, pupils wide.

From behind, Jake’s voice joined, a little rough, a little smug. “Good. Isn't worth remembering anyway.”

He leaned down, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as he pulled the blanket up over the three of you, wrapping you in warmth.

“You two are so annoying.” you mumbled into Sunghoon’s chest, but there was no real bite in your words.

“Yeah,” Jake murmured, settling in beside Sunghoon, hand draped over your thighs. “But we’re yours.”

a/n 2: tumblr glitched the fuck out while formatting this. if it ruined the writing, i'm throwing hands. hope you enjoyed ˆˆ

#enhypen smut #jake sim x reader #sim jake x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen poly #jakehoon #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfiction #park sunghoon smut #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun x reader

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trh0d3s · 3 days ago

Text

Manager in the making!

Part1! After the prologue 😈

Saja boys x human manager reader

The morning light floods the living room waking you up from a good ass dream you were having… it was definitely not world domination via conquering the agency and kicking bobmagatron 2000 the man child in the face! No…Definitely not...

The regrets of last night’s fridge raid hitting your stomach and your wallet.

You sit up on your couch kicking a half empty can of soda that was dangerously close to your foot onto the floor.…on your phone! “ah shit-“Cursing more awake than ever you throw your blanket on the wet spot trying dry up where it got on your phone. This happened once but with grape juice and you missed a call from an employer which ended up getting you fired and passing your opportunity to someone else. Picking up the precious object with your poor blanket checking over it before turning it on. A sigh of relief it still works! Ok, maybe it’s still broken cause that can’t be a reply to one of your ads…?

You walk to the kitchen in your one-bedroom apartment eyes glued to the screen in both shock and horror mindlessly bumping into the chairs and small dining table to make it to the coffee maker. It was from craigslist…the one you hesitating to put up, you heard the stories from there and REALY don’t want to manage some kink or underground drug ring...

It’s all you got right now so if it’s something weird just turn tail and run! Maybe report to the police too if it’s the drug ring route. You punch in the buttons for the coffee to start brewing not too keen on drinking 2-day old coffee you left on a hurry to a company meet and greet.

Fromk:Xx//Demonboy//[email protected]

To:[email protected]

Subject: We need a manager

We have looked at your skills and are willing to pay a set price of your choosing for your skills to manage our start up boy band.

The mug misses your mouth reading through the email. Boy band? Was expecting something off from craigslist also what is up with that email? I know I was 13 once but as a professional email…?

This boy band consists of 5 members you won’t need to worry about money whatever you need or want will be given to you. If you agree meet us at this location/_________/ at 12pm.

Very vague and mysterious… that place is only a couple blocks down, a small square with various food stands around. Popular spot for weekends and popups. ”Weird…bit at least its public” You mumble mid sip at your coffee, looking at the time 11.:40…OK YOU WILL QUESTION THIS LATER. Dumping your drink in the sink you rush to your room to get dressed something professional casual for a good first impression. This might be potential kidnapping but if the off chance it isn’t you have to be ready to wow to dazzle and get that bank! Cleaning up your living room will be held off for later, you shove your feet into your shoes grabbing you keys and phone. This might be your chance! (What do you think of that L this is my perfect victory-! I mean who said that!?)

The walk to small square was short but loud everyone was buzzing about the new single that dropped last night. Thought the girls were supposed to go on break before the idol’s awards? Guess if you love your craft every break is too long. Screens showing the countdown passed you, people huddling together on their phone staring at the screen with mumbles and squeals of excitement.

Ok what would a group of boy band wannabes look like? Dressed to the nines or playing it lowkey? You pass a empty alley that branched off to only one shop the smell of earth and herbs making its way to where you were. Weird I don’t see a group of 5 waiting for me? Can’t expect them to hold a sign to pinpoint where they though...

“If this is a scam and someone is playing with me, I’m punching someone” Mumbled under your breath scanning the crowd, is it me or wasn’t there light behind me? I look off my phone in front of me what used to be the sun was blocked off by a wall...? “What the…he-Ack“ You were pulled into the same empty alley you passed with a yelp two hands tugging you in by the shoulders. A slender finger twirls you into a dip the two hands prior long gone you were going to fall but it was misdirected to…. this?!

You open your eyes to a jaw dropping sight a clear face looking down at you with no expression before pulling you back up your feet with a smirk. Like he was playing with you, amusement to your reactions shown on his face. Grabbing your bearings against the stone wall beside you the wall that was blocking the sun was actually....5 HOT MEN?!

Maybe you weren’t being lied to and craigslist decided to bless you with something not weird and dangerous! Your awestruck staring was cut off by what looked to be the leader stepping forward. “Your _____ right? Accepted my proposal as manager?” His voice was smooth and fluid like liquid like he was nudging you into the direction he wanted.

“Ah yes that’s me! Are you…” You look back to your phone to read out his email receipt. “xxDemon boy xx?...” Voice unsure to even be saying that aloud. He coughs into his fist slightly embarrassed as the rest of his group look at him in pure bewilderment or is it something else? The baby faced one of the group was just dead-on staring at him.

“yes… That’s me. But forget that my names Jinu” He cuts into the silence before addressing the boys behind him like they rehearsed this. “Abbey” At his name the man with short pink hair and very much not fitting shirt stepped forward striking a pose…How is he that big did he eat the other idols in training? His shirt looked like it was about to break at the seams if he strikes another pose. Your eyes make their way down his form honing in on the 8 pack he’s showing off with zero shame.

Someone else stepped in front of him big heart shaped pink hair striking a pose before blowing a kiss in your direction. “Romance” Jinus voice behind you placing a hand on your shoulder momentarily distracting you as a blue hair enters your vision staring you down with a cool nonchalant look. “Baby” Ok little on the nose with these names…he just gives you a nod eyes set on a bored expression brushing his blue hair out of his eyes. “and that’s mystery” Jinu turns your attention to the last one in the group grey hair in his face covering his eyes but it felt like he was staring into your soul…

Was he growling or is that you thinking crazy with these majestic men around you? Jinu spins you around to face him as abbey holds mystery back from baring his teeth. “We are the Saja boys” This boy strikes his own pose before straightening up smoothing his shirt over. “And you will be our manager, yes?”

You can’t help but blink at them before going into professional mode, turning a complete 360, you can see the potential now. You are going to skyrocket these men! “What type of boy band are you? What music are you aiming for? Synthpop, dance rock, artpunk? Y'all do seem the type for bubblegum pop.” You start shooting out different genres of music found in Kop in rapid fire. It surprises them how fast you can switch into the manager persona your destined to be. You start walking around the boys, analyzing them, stopping in front of mystery to stare at the mass of hair where his eyes are supposed to be, before moving on with a hum of approval.

Before Jinu can reply you raise a hand shutting him up already making the loop around the 5 freakishly tall and handsome men. “I can work with this. Ok, I accept your offer I will be your manager” you say triumphally arms crossing over your chest with a proud grin on your face. This is your big break! Nothing will stop you from getting this boyband into top five! Bob won’t see what’s coming! Mischievous giggling erupts from you as you plot silently in your mind the proud grin turning smug.

“Really? You can’t take it back now you know” Jinu voices from beyond your plotting pulling up a paper from somewhere behind his back for you to sign you don’t think too much of it. Not batting an eye at the way it shimmered or seem to come from nowhere too lost in the fantasy of recognition from the agency that failed, you sign it on the dotted line.

“We want to debut tomorrow” Ok, that snaps you out of your daydreams the contract long gone.

“Tomorrow?!” You cough out face molding into to shock the boys could only smile at your thoughtlessness. You ran in headfirst at the first opportunity given to you common for humans, and they know that.

“Yea tomorrow or can our wonderful manager not do it?” Abby butts in, smugness lacing his words as he stepped forward pulling the arms crossed behind his head move. Was he trying to intimidate you with his muscles?

“Can’t be too hard for you right? Oh, amazing manager” This time it was baby that stole your attention eyes lidded with that same grin everyone was sporting, eyes no longer bored but focused directly on you. He leaned on mystery who continued to stare into your existence with a blank face that slowly turned into that same fucking smile!

You’re probably going to regret this in the long haul. Who fucking cares you’re going to live your dream! You’re going to make them the next face of Korea. No, the entire world!

You look at your phone to check the time before nodding and thinking, “I can work with 24 hours, give or take.” Yeah, nothing is going to stop this manager in the making!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Extra: :9

#Kpdh #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters spoilers #kpop demon hunters romance x reader #kpdh x jinu #kpop demon hunters #Kpdh baby x reader #kpdh x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #Kpdh abbey x reader #Kpdh mystery x reader #These boys are too fucking fine #Bout to arrest them

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headspace-hotel · 3 days ago

Text

I am small and I can't do very much. That is the despair of an individual in a big and violent world. But the plants teach me it is okay to be small. Everything is either small, or made of things that are small. We are all connected. Symbiosis.

So, on the subject of bugs.

It is the fourth summer of the Meadow. My plants grow strong and wild and cover more space than ever before. I have worked to eradicate the invasive lawn grass and carefully curate large clumps of only native species (with a few esteemed naturalized weeds allowed---I have no quarrel with Chicory, it has a positive effect on the ecosystem).

I have tall, huge native Field Thistles, multitudes of tough and aggressive evening primrose, wild strawberry spreading everywhere, a dozen vigorous gray-headed coneflowers, giant clumps of cup-plant, and so many asters and goldenrods that I've had to start targeting them in my weeding.

Yes, yes, I have the showy ones like purple coneflowers and black-eyed susans, but I also encourage and cultivate weird little weeds that are too inconspicuous or ugly to be often planted on purpose. White avens, lanceleaf frogfruit, nettle-leaf vervain.

There are too many plants. I'll spend forever listing them all. What is really interesting, is what's happened with the bugs.

Every year, there has been a much bigger variety and population of insects. I am both seeing many more species, and seeing the same species in much, much larger numbers. Even on the same plants that were already there 4 years ago, I can see way more bugs.

Flower flies, for instance. There are tiny yellow and black flies known as flower flies that are very beneficial for gardeners, because their larvae are predators that attack aphids. It used to be that I could often see a dozen, but now I see hundreds of them every time I go outside!

Or wasps. There are more species of wasps than I possibly could have imagined. It used to be that I would only see the reddish paper wasps, the ones that make big paper nests in the eaves of your house, but now, there are dozens of different wasps. Some are black, others black and white, others black and yellow, others black and brown, and they come in all different sizes. A bunch of blue-black wasps with white stripes live in the log next to my pond.

I identified them and looked up the species, and they had not been studied at all since the 1960's. Supposedly they are solitary species, but several different wasps have made nests inside the log right next to each other. That's the first interesting thing. The second interesting thing is that the nests were first inhabited last summer, and the same species of wasp still lives in them, so their town has been inhabited for multiple years instead of being abandoned when the larvae emerge. Has the next generation taken over the old nests? I am observing something about the species that is not known to science.

Wasps are hated and feared, but my wasps have never been anything but peaceful and polite, and they have so much beauty and importance in the ecosystem.

And the bees! I am observing bees this year that I had never even heard of before. Many of them are so tiny, I doubt they could even reach the nectar in large flowers like purple coneflower. What if the small, inconspicuous flowers are essential for smaller pollinators like the tiny bees? That would make sense. Different flowers evolved to attract different bees.

Beetles, ants, leafhoppers, flies, moths, butterflies, all kinds of bugs. Specific plants attract specific bugs, but it is not the plants individually that restore insect biodiversity, it is the way the plants interact and form a bigger ecosystem.

What I mean is, as my garden grew, the increase in bugs was not linear in relationship to the plants, it was exponential. The combination of the many different plants into an ecosystem attracted many more bugs than would be expected from the sum of each plant individually.

I remember the emptiness and barrenness before. I see it around me when I visit other places. The disappearance of bugs. The insect apocalypse. It's so clear to me now. The cause is biotic homogenization. I call it plant sameness.

Everywhere around me, landscapes have been made into expanses of the same few plants. But when plant sameness is replaced by variety and diversity, many plants interacting in many different ways, everything changes.

#ecosystems #biodiversity #bugs #plants #the ways of the plants #pollinators

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sixeyesonathiel · 2 days ago

Text

testing a whisker away au...

satoru didn’t mean to get himself into this mess.

he really didn’t. it was just a stupid mask. a stupid little thing some weird old man shoved into his hands after school, rambling about “understanding people better” and “second chances.” satoru had just wanted to shut the guy up, so he took it. that’s all it was supposed to be. something he’d forget about by the next morning, just another weird story to tell his friends.

except now he’s here. in your arms. as a cat.

it all started two weeks ago when you found him outside your apartment, soaked from the rain, tiny and shivering in his ridiculous little cat body. his usually snow-dusted fur was plastered to his thin frame, heavy and dripping, his bright cerulean eyes wide and frantic as his tail sagged, dragging pitifully along the wet pavement.

every step he took was slow and miserable, his tiny body trembling from the cold. he tried to run away. he really did. but you crouched and called out to him so gently, so sweetly, your voice soft like the first light of morning, hesitant but warm. “come here, little guy,” you had whispered, your hand outstretched, patient and steady, fingertips trembling just slightly in the cold.

he hesitated. his ears flattened. but the sound of your voice—soft, careful, kind—reached him in a place he didn’t know existed. his paws betrayed him. his feet dragged him forward.

and satoru—in a moment of catastrophic weakness—let himself be scooped into your arms.

worst mistake of his life.

(but maybe also the best.)

because now you’re feeding him. petting him. babying him. brushing his fur with delicate fingers that linger just behind his ears, scratching that one spot that makes his little cat body go embarrassingly limp, his paws twitching with each pass. satoru comes to you every night now as shiro, curling into your lap, pressing his face into your stomach as your hand combs through his fur in slow, absentminded strokes that leave him dangerously close to purring.

you talk to him. you smile at him. you let your guard down around him in a way you never do with human satoru.

it’s driving him absolutely insane.

in class, he plays the fool. the class clown. he’s loud and annoying and relentless, dragging his chair across the floor with a screech just to sit backward beside you. his arms drape lazily over the backrest, his grin crooked and stupidly bright, his messy white hair flopping over his forehead, never quite behaving, always slightly tousled like he’d run a hand through it too many times.

“g'morning, sunshine,” he chirps with that same sparkle in his cerulean eyes, his voice obnoxiously sweet, though a little too rehearsed to be natural.

“you’re in my light,” you murmur without sparing him a glance, flicking the corner of your notebook to flip the page as if his presence is nothing more than background noise. your fingers are steady, your expression unmoved.

satoru sprawls across your desk like he owns the space. “you mean your life,” he quips, lips curled, searching—desperate—for even the tiniest twitch of amusement.

you shove his forehead away with the blunt end of your eraser, your gaze steady and bored. “you’re genuinely not funny.”

his heart cracks in half, but his grin doesn’t falter. “ouch. that stings,” he mumbles dramatically, clutching his chest like you’ve mortally wounded him.

he tries again. every day, he tries again.

he imitates the teacher’s voice under his breath when you’re not looking, makes stupid hand puppets with the shadows on your desk, draws idiotic little comics of stick-figure students battling kaiju on your worksheets—each comic more elaborate than the last, some of them featuring a stick-figure version of him heroically saving a stick-figure version of you.

nothing.

not even a twitch.

he balances a pencil on his upper lip and crosses his eyes, wobbling slightly to keep it from falling. when the room falls silent, he waggles his brows at you like he’s performing for an audience of one.

nothing.

you don’t even glance his way.

“are you seriously this immune to me?” he groans, letting his head thunk against the desk beside your elbow, his hair a messy curtain over his eyes, the tips brushing the edge of your notebook. he cranes his neck to peek up at you, his lips pressed into a dramatic pout.

“completely,” you answer flatly, your pen idly tapping against your notebook’s margin as you sketch out a half-hearted doodle of what appears to be a cat.

his heart skips pathetically. it’s shiro. it’s him. it has to be. but you don’t know. you’re drawing him and you don’t know.

“but you secretly like me,” he prods, trying to keep the desperation from leaking into his voice, his grin lopsided, playful but hiding something quieter beneath it.

“i don’t,” you deadpan, tilting your chin toward the window, your gaze trailing after the drifting clouds as if they’re infinitely more worth your time.

but when he's shiro? oh, you practically melt.

it's like you transform into a completely different person when he's in that tiny, fluffy body. your touch, usually distant and dismissive in class, becomes soft and lingering, your fingers combing through his fur in slow, deliberate strokes that make his tail flick lazily. you cradle him to your chest like he's something precious, something irreplaceable, and he feels the quick, steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his ear.

sometimes you press your nose against the top of his head, nuzzling into the soft, snowy fur as if he's the only one who understands you. you murmur to him in quiet, sleepy tones, whispering little secrets that never leave the circle of your arms. he gets to see the way your eyelids flutter closed in peace, how the sharp edges of your expression soften until you are someone he has never been allowed to see in the daylight.

in class, you’re all cold glances and sharp replies, the walls around you built high and thick. you act like his presence is a nuisance, like you’re immune to his antics, like you could never spare him more than a flick of your pencil in irritation. but when he’s shiro, you giggle so easily, you hold him like he matters, you sigh like he’s your only source of comfort.

and he abuses it. oh, he abuses it shamelessly.

sometimes he deliberately bumps his little head against your chin or your cheek, rubbing against you with deliberate, exaggerated affection. he does it often, batting his head against your face until you have no choice but to giggle and scritch behind his ears.

“clingy little thing,” you murmur with a helpless smile, rubbing slow circles on his head as he bumps his nose against your jawline again, as if demanding more. he relishes it. he leans into it. he does it again and again just to feel you hold him tighter, to hear you sigh his name in that sweet, breathy way that drives him absolutely mad.

it's not just the way you hold him—it's the way you breathe around him. slow. steady. like the world stops spinning for a moment when it's just you and him.

“people are so exhausting,” you murmur one night, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath warm against his fur. the exhaustion drips from your words, weighing them down, but your fingers never stop their gentle tracing behind his ears, each pass coaxing a quiet, reluctant purr from his throat. “but you're different, shiro. i think you're the only one i can stand.”

he wants to scream. he wants to cry. he wants to bite the wall. he wants to shake you by the shoulders and tell you that he is right there. he is the one sitting beside you in class, making stupid jokes and drawing dumb comics on your worksheets. he is the one dragging his chair next to yours, pestering you until you threaten to staple his shirt to the desk. he is the same person. it's him. it's literally him. why do you like the cat but hate the boy? what kind of cruel joke is this?

“it's not fair,” he whines dramatically, burying his face into your chest, his tiny paws pressing at your shirt with pitiful little taps, his snowy fur fluffing up in frustration. his fluffy tail curls and uncurls, betraying his misery.

you don’t understand. you just giggle, scritching under his chin, your fingers dancing across his jaw in that spot that makes his ears twitch and his resolve crumble.

“aww, don't be grumpy, shiro,” you coo, your voice dripping with fondness, and your smile is so soft he thinks he'll die from it. “you know i love you.”

he lets out a pained meow, his tail flicking in miserable little swishes, his head pressing deeper into your shirt like he can bury himself there and never come out. you love him. you love him but not him. you love the cat, not the boy. he is a loser living a double life and he didn't even mean to. he just wanted to make you smile. just once. but now he’s made you laugh, made you open your heart, made you tell him things you would never dare to say to his face.

now he's addicted.

he finds himself pacing around the corners of your street at dusk, waiting for you to come home, just so he can follow you upstairs and hear you hum while you set out his food. he lingers in your room, curled up by your pillow long after you've fallen asleep, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing. he comes back again and again, night after night, because he can't stop.

how is he supposed to go back from this? how is he supposed to act normal when you're pouring your heart out to shiro but telling satoru to choke?

#gojo satoru #gojo drabbles #gojo fluff #gojo crack #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader crack #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader

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jaylaxies · 3 days ago

Note

loser jungwon who eats you when you sleep? 🤭

cw: dubcon, heavy somno, loser jungwon.

jungwon is but a pathetic little cat when it comes to you. he doesn’t think twice before entering your room when he stays over, being your brother’s best friend and all. he sees the opportunity and goes for it, all in.

it’s his first time doing this, and it’s like something snaps the second he sees you sleeping on your side, your legs curled, your shorts barely covering anything. he tiptoes in slow, closes the door behind him, not breathing too loud. every step closer makes him go feral, his cock aching, and when he kneels at the edge of the bed, tugging the blankets down gently, holding the waistband of your panties aside, and finally seeing your soft cunt exposed for him? he whimpers like a needy lil kitty.

his fingers tremble as he spreads your thighs, being gentle, so fucking careful, like you’ll wake up and slap him. but when you don’t? when you stay soft and warm under his sweet mouth? jungwon loses it. his lips wrap around your clit like he’s sucking on it to stay alive, moaning into you with warm, red cheeks and glassy eyes, cock grinding into the side of your bed like a pathetic virgin.

“fuck,” he whispers, dazed, “you taste so good, i—i shouldn’t, ugh, gosh, i know i shouldn’t—just once, hm? just once i promise.” he sniffles, whining into your cunt like a starved man, your slick coating his chin, nose buried in your wetness like it’s the only place ever.

you wake slowly, almost dazed, until you feel the wetness between your thighs—tongue flicking? lips sucking? and breathless whining? when your eyes open and you see jungwon there, face ruined, cock soaked through his sweats, crying as he eats you out? you laugh at the depravity of the situation, “oh you’re fucking pathetic,” you whisper, grabbing him by the hair, “aw? my brother’s closest friend, humping my bed like a loser while drooling all over my pussy?”

he whimpers at your voice, bucking hard into the mattress, tears dripping down his flushed cheeks. “i’m sorry—i needed it—i needed you so bad,” he blabbered, lips still inching towards your clit. you push his face back down and hold it there, “then don’t stop,” you murmur, spreading your legs wider, “you’re already disgusting—might as well make me cum, yeah?” and he does, moaning into you, tongue trembling, kind of sloppy, and desperate as if he’s actually thankful for the humiliation. when you cum, thighs squeezing his pretty lil face, he sobs—literally sobs from the taste, and from the shame, which makes him come too, untouched, soaking his boxers like the filthy lil loser he is.

#[🍪] : anons #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jungwon smut #enha smut #kpop smut

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raevpng · 2 days ago

Text

all these rumours

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

masterlist

summary: times azzi was sick of subtle and quiet hints and attempts to hard launch with her longtime best friend and girlfriend. frustration and chaos ensues however, when she fails. multiple. times.

a/n: thank u for ur patience once again lovelies 🥹 im still gonna edit this but this is my longest one shot ever so i hope it’s still enjoyable 😭 tell me ur thoughts <3

azzi knew more or less that there was a hefty price to pay for the dream life she chased.

she knew that eventually, the talent she’s harnessed and worked on for years would pay off – that the world would know what she could do. who she could be.

picture perfect form, unshakable morals, a humble yet competitive spirit.

that was who azzi fudd is. the kind of basketball player kids dreamed to be.

and she got it – she has what she’s worked so hard to do all her life. she got in the basketball capital of the world, she had a team that felt more like family, friendships that grounded her, people she’d bleed for.

and somehow, in the middle of all of that—she fell in love.

people were always stunned when she told the story. the story of how she met her soulmate, her twin flame, her everything.

paige bueckers.

every bit of a great athlete azzi is. she led with a kind of love and passion for not only the game, but for the people she played with. she had the kind of faith that swayed you, and a personality that left everyone wanting more.

and really, azzi understands. she understands why the internet obsessed over every interaction they had. every glance, touch, every shared laugh. they were absolutely enamored with their dynamic.

she understands cause she was living it.

she found a lover in her best friend. and god, azzi could never forget how softly their relationship had blossomed. how gently they had crossed the line between platonic and romantic. she remembers the soft confessions, the nervous first date, the jealousy they felt as they tried to hide from each other throughout their highschool careers.

she remembers how tough it was for paige had to watch azzi go with a boy to prom, and for azzi to watch as the media spun narrative after narrative of paige’s latest rumored boyfriend.

a hundred moments they had to swallow their love and smile like it didn’t sting.

but when azzi got to uconn, everything changed.

they were no longer living parallel lives — they were living the same one. suddenly it wasn’t just about quiet stares and lingering touches. it was about navigating something real, something tangible. they had a much harder time trying to bury their affections for each other. hands lingered a little longer than necessary, stares burned in a way that friends definitely did not do.

they tried to hide it. they really did.

nonetheless, everyone caught up to it pretty quick.

including their coaches and staff.

and safe to say they had a very thorough talk about media training and deal that yes – there was no rule that they couldn’t date, but it had to be very quiet, down low.

and it was easy.

kinda.

they were surrounded by the best team mates, who supported them through thick and thin. who, sure, maybe gagged at their quick kisses and cuddles during move nights or quick embraces in locker rooms before a game. but through it all, even with the chaos, azzi was content. grateful, even.

but now?

now it was different. they weren’t teammates anymore. they weren’t under the same roof, with the same jersey, following the same rules.

and azzi, has quiet as she had been during their years in uconn, was absolutely dying to show off her girlfriend.

because why not?

she can now.

and she was so damn ready.

–

forget about ending it with a bang, they started it with a bang.

the 2025 draft was much anticipated, not only for the fates of their future rookies in the league, but for the fashion, the glitz, the glamour.

and azzi?

she made damn sure she showed up. she pops out in the glittery black dress that hugs her curves perfectly, with her hair styled in curls that cascaded down the expanse of her bare, toned back.

and she came with a statement to make.

she made sure to stay by paige’s side for photos, smiling at her in a way that no longer held back adoration. heart eyes, the fans said. she posed for pictures as paige wrapped her hand around her waist, smiling with a love-sick, dopey grin that only fueled the flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

and if that wasn’t enough, she smiled to herself victoriously as she settled down in her very own seat.

in paige’s table.

she smiled knowingly, already anticipating the craze that is their fans, knowing that some of them doubted she would be there. she was excited to stir chaos, to send the clear message that she’s been by her girlfriend’s side and she’s here to stay. that no matter where she goes, she’ll always be close to follow.

her name wasn’t being called yet, but she looked like the proudest person in the room when paige’s was.

but to her surprise, as the night settled down and they returned to paige’s hotel room, it still wasn’t enough.

she remembers being tangled up in hotel sheets, bare underneath the covers as she ran her fingers through her tussled hair. the night had been nothing but hectic, and she half expected paige to pass out by the time they entered their hotel room with the amount of media, socialisation, and tequil shots she had downed in celebration of her draft night.

safe to say, the night had in fact not gone down that road, and instead ended with paige’s hands wandering and azzi not being able to resist.

cause who was she to deny her number one pick girlfriend? she couldn’t – not when she wanted it just as much. not when paige mouthed at her neck, whispering thanks and gratitude and confessions in a way that made azzi’s heart skip a beat and ignited a warmth in her stomach. she remembers the way paige had glanced up at her from between her legs, looking up as if she was the one who had been drafted. she remembers the gentleness, the passion, and the silent promises between each kiss and each release.

“you okay there baby?” paige had said as she exited the bathroom, her loose button up long gone as she climbed into bed again, quickly wrapping azzi into a warm embrace as she breathes in her scent.

“hm.” she hummed, setting down her phone by her pillow. she was scrolling through social media while paige had gone to clean up, and much to her dismay, her message still wasn’t clear to some.

she reached up to plant a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s lips. “saw some people saying we were ‘bff goals.’” she scrunched her nose, bringing a quiet giggle from paige.

“is that a bad thing?” paige laughs softly, brushing away azzi’s hair to kiss her forehead.

azzi gasped.

“what kinda best friend sits at a draft table and gets hugged first?” azzi shook her head, as if personally offended. “i am very obviously your girlfriend, thank you.”

paige just laughs, eyes fond as azzi sinks deeper in her embrace.

“let’s try again then.”

–

she’d kept the hints going, subtle but steady, while paige threw herself into her rookie season.

likes on tiktok edits, continuously coming to her games, even helping paige settle in texas barely a day after they had been “separated.”

the big one came unexpectedly, on a regular thursday afternoon.

she’d been cleaning her room, hair pulled up and sleeves rolled to her elbows, with paige propped up on facetime. on screen, paige was standing in front of her bathroom mirror, rambling about practice and the new weight room, her voice bright as she pulled her hair into a sleek ponytail.

azzi half-listened. mostly, she stared.

her eyes were fixed on the way paige’s biceps flexed when she tightened her ponytail. the gloss of her lips as she applied balm. the arch of her brow as she talked, animated and glowing.

“ma, you good?” paige smirked when she realised azzi was no longer listening, laughing at the glossy look in azzi’s eyes. “something distracting you?”

azzi coughed and rolled her eyes, though the blush creeping up her neck gave her away. “just admiring what’s mine, that’s all.”

paige smiled, almost shy as her cheeks tint a pretty shade of pink at her girlfriend’s possessiveness. “i miss you, baby.”

azzi’s smirk faded, replaced with something heavier. her voice dropped to a murmur as she sat on the edge of her bed. “i miss you more, p. it’s not the same here without you.”

paige pouted, like she felt it in her chest too. “it’s weird seeing you more on a screen again. i’m so used to just walking downstairs when i missed you.”

“now it’s six hours and a flight just to hug you for a day,” azzi sighed.

paige pouts even harder, sighing dramatically. “i just miss my girl. you’ve been looking too damn fine in my jersey. you trying to kill me?”

and that’s when it hit her.

azzi shot up, rummaging through the clutter on her desk—books, lip gloss tubes, tangled chains – until she found it.

she held up the delicate silver necklace, triumph written all over her face. a small heart charm beside a number 5.

“baby,” paige laughed, eyes lighting up. she knew that face. “what are you planning?”

“you’ll see.” azzi smirked.

see if they can deny this now.

spoiler: they can.

–

the tiktok blew up instantly – a dancing video with suni and anna. but that wasn’t what caught people’s attention.

no, it was the subtle glint of silver that caught the light every time azzi moved, delicate, gleaming, and undeniably there.

from the second the video went live, suni and anna had teased her relentlessly, eyebrows raised, smirks smug.

“oh they’re gonna eat this up,” anna said gleefully as she posted it, watching the likes skyrocket in real time. and azzi beamed, half proud, half smug.

suni leaned over her shoulder with a knowing grin. “you really wore that necklace for this?”

azzi shrugged smugly, beaming like the mastermind she was. “they better catch on this time.”

she thought this was it. they had to get it now.

and for a while, it seemed like they had. comments poured in. likes exploded. azzi refreshed the app every few minutes, heart racing, already imagining the thinkpieces, the ship edits, the finally, we have confirmation!! tweets.

but a few hours later, when she opened her phone, her jaw dropped.

comments flooded in:

“i wear my best friend’s number too lol”

“okay but this could still be platonic?”

“my bestie gave me a necklace like that 🥰”

what the fuck.

azzi slammed her phone face-down onto her bed, letting out a long, dramatic groan.

“you’re fucking lying.” she muttered under her breath, already on her feet and storming down the hallway to kk’s dorm with one mission in mind: complain. violently.

she flung the door open without knocking, mouth open and rants waiting to spill out when she heard it.

paige’s voice, warm and amused, drifting from kk’s phone screen.

“hey, fudd,” kk grinned, turning the phone to reveal paige’s face, all soft lighting and softer smiles. her girlfriend brightens up immediately, smiling that soft smile reserved only for her.

“hey, babe,” paige greeted. but her smile faltered as soon as she took in azzi’s stormy expression.

“uh oh. what happened?”

“oh, you know,” azzi drawled dramatically, flopping down on the edge of kk’s bed like the world’s most exhausted gay. “just the fucking allegations.”

kk blinked. “azzi. they can’t be allegations if you’re actually dating.”

“nah,” paige cut in, already catching on. she chuckled, leaning closer to the camera. “by allegations, she means best friend allegations.”

a beat of silence.

and then kk howled with laughter, doubling over as azzi swatted her shoulder.

“it’s not fucking funny.” she whined, ignoring how paige smiles fondly, eyes crinkling and bright.

“how are we still getting best friend allegations?” azzi rambled, pacing now. “i sat at her draft table. i’ve been in texas more in the last two weeks than my own parents’ house. i’m literally wearing her number around my neck like a promise ring.”

kk wipes a tear that escaped her eyes as she catches her breath, “you kill me, genuinely.”

“shut the fuck up kk.”

“okay, okay,” she wheezed, holding up her hands in surrender. “just be more obvious, then. you know how the internet is. unless you’re holding up a giant neon sign that says ‘i’m in a gay relationship with paige bueckers’ they’re gonna think y’all braid each other’s hair while you watch love island .”

“should i tattoo it on my forehead?” azzi deadpanned. “i’m dating paige bueckers across my fucking hairline?”

“i’d be down,” paige chimed in helpfully.

azzi shot her a look.

paige grinned sheepishly. “sorry.”

kk just rolled her eyes for what had to be the fifth time. “no one said that. just make another tiktok. with paige this time. don’t you literally have a visit planned soon?”

azzi groaned again but nodded, slumping down into kk’s desk chair with a dramatic exhale.

“fine. i guess i’ll try again.”

“aww.” paige cooed at azzi’s jutted lip, clearly dejected at her failed attempt at yet another hard launch. “don’t worry babe, we can do that trend you’ve been wanting.”

azzi’s head snapped up, a hopeful smile dancing on her lips, “really?”

“of course, baby,” paige said, voice low and warm, and if azzi had been any closer, back in her arms where she belongs, she would’ve kissed her silly on the spot.

“ew, gross.” kk gagged, “this feels like watching my parents kiss.”

azzi flipped her off without even looking, already envisioning the tiktok that would put rumours to rest. hopefully. maybe.

they’d stop calling it platonic.

–

the restaurant was bustling with quiet noise – the clink of silverware against ceramic, the soft murmur of conversations blending with occasional bursts of laughter. dim lighting bounced off polished wood and wine glasses, casting everything in a warm glow. it was perfect, not because of the fragrant waft of food everywhere, (although that did help) but because she was here, with her again, back where she belongs.

they were sat on a spacious round table. and even though they were in the middle of the restaurant, surrounded by people and different conversations, azzi barely heard the hum of the world around her.

all she heard was paige.

“and then nai says it’s because i’m pale like casper the ghost. what does that have to do with anything?” paige sighed mid-rant, her hands animated as she recounted something that happened during shootaround, her voice trailing into another tangent about a meme she saw that morning.

and azzi would like to think she was a great girlfriend. she’d say she was attentive and ready to listen. but right now, with her girlfriend so soft and so close to her again? she couldn’t help but stare.

she was watching. warm eyes fixed on paige’s every expression. the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, the way her lashes fluttered when she looked down at her plate, the way her voice softened just slightly whenever she said azzi’s name.

god, it’s sickening how in love she was. maybe kk did have a point.

paige leaned forward suddenly, noticing the face her girlfriend had when she was in her head again. reaching across the table, she laced their fingers together. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and it was.

her thumb brushed slow circles into the back of azzi’s hand as she watched azzi register her gentle actions.

“anyways,” paige said, a little quieter, a little gentler. “how are you doing, baby? still bothered about the rumours?”

azzi sighed before she could help it, spine straightening at the mention of the issue. paige laughed softly, lifting their hands and pressing a kiss to the smooth skin just below azzi’s knuckles.

“you have no idea.” azzi rolled her eyes, softening slightly at the affection. she fished her phone out to show her girlfriend a screenshot of the many tweets and tiktok comments. “look. best friend, former team-mate, anything but girlfriend. it’s ridiculous!”

a blur of screenshots filled the screen as paige squinted. tweet after tweet, tiktok after tiktok, each one circled or underlined in red like she was building a case. best friend. former teammate. “normal friendship between girls.” platonic. platonic. platonic.

paige cackled at a particular comment. “yall reaching. i look at my best friend the way paige does and we’re not dating.” she read aloud, biting her lip to stop a very inappropriate laugh from escaping.

“someone tell her…” paige started shakily, “if she looks at her best friend the way we look at each other…”

azzi’s hands shoot up to cover her mouth, knowing her girlfriend’s next words.

paige was near tears. “they’re probably-”

“gay.” azzi deadpanned, snickering into her hands as she tried to remain quiet.

paige didn’t even try, doubling into a loud laughter as she hid her face from curious stares.

“gay,” she repeated, muffled into her palms, before peeking back up at azzi with tear-glossed eyes and the widest grin. “god, i love you.”

azzi just huffed, still scrolling. “tell that to the internet.”

she opened tiktok on azzi’s phone, still in her hand with a sly grin. “wanna make it now?”

azzi’s eyes brightened instantly, nodding animatedly as paige leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her forehead.

—

they filmed it first try – azzi tilted her head, eyes wide with innocence. “how much was it?” she mouthed.

paige looked exasperatedly at the camera. “two hundred dollars.”

azzi let out a cute little gasp, a soft smile contrasting paige’s reaction. “that’s not bad!”

azzi could barely contain the shake of her body as she cackled at the slow motion of paige’s reaction. they both cracked up the moment the audio cut, laughter bubbling as paige nuzzled her face into the crook of the younger’s neck. they rewatched it ten times before even moving, paige pointing out how soft azzi looked in her sweater and her innocent smile.

“they gotta get it this time.” paige reassured as azzi typed up her caption.

princess treatment everytime i’m with her. 😇💗 #spoiled

then she hit post.

hard launch.

again.

they got up to stroll to paige’s car, scrolling through the initial reactions. thousands of likes, comments, even videos in response to the tikok flooded in almost initially. paige peeked over azzi’s shoulder as they sat, scrolling, her free hand still tangled with azzi’s.

“see ma?” paige murmured against her ear. “i think they really get it this time.”

azzi beamed, sliding into the passenger seat and sighing at the familiar scent of paige’s car. her favourite car freshener, her laundry detergent, the faintest whiff of her favorite perfume. Home.

“finally,” she whispered, curling into her seat with a grin.

princess treatment indeed.

but later that night, after dinner and after kisses and after laughter faded into quiet, they lay on paige’s couch. azzi was nestled between her legs, back pressed to paige’s chest, scrolling aimlessly on her phone while paige mindlessly played with the end of one of her braids.

“babe?” azzi asked quietly, tone dull.

“hm?” paige kissed her temple.

wordlessly, azzi flipped her phone around and shoved it in her face. paige stared, blinked, then winced.

“oh fuck, you were serious.”

–

“i know that look.” kk narrowed her eyes, watching azzi through the mirror as she twisted her curls into place, securing them with quiet precision.

soft music flowed from kk’s speaker, the low hum of kk’s r&b playlist mixing with the gentle clatter of makeup brushes. paige had a game in connecticut today, and they had decided to get ready together before boarding the team bus to the game.

“whatsoever do you mean, kamorea?” azzi asked, tone syrupy and suspiciously innocent. she didn’t even look up, just kept applying mascara to thick, long lashes that fluttered innocently.

kk squinted, reading between every single line. “nah, don’t play. you’re gonna do something to ruin the internet again aren’t you?”

a smile.

“maybe.”

kk shivers.

–

they had finished the game with a high. dallas took the victory as the crowd went wild – paige had once again scored the most points within the team and god she felt like floating. she exuded an electric energy, that dizzying, dazed smile stretched across her face as her eyes scanned the crowd, searching.

they land on azzi. always azzi.

always azzi, cutting through the overwhelming noise and cheer. it was cheesy to think, but it genuinely felt like those cheesy rom-com movies azzi adored, even years in their relationship. the roar of the arena faded to a hum when their eyes met, and paige’s smile softened like it always did. like she only saw her.

they were ushered out quickly once the game wrapped, fans still screaming, staff buzzing. azzi and kk lingered back in a hallway as the crowd thinned. kk had been filming a vlog the entire day, azzi giggling into the camera, cheeks hurting from smiling as they goofed around, waiting for them to be allowed back to the venue.

“hey, y'all can come back in now.” a staff member had said, halting kk’s rambling to her phone.

“thank you!” kk replied politely before turning to the vlog, tone changing in an instant. “guys, we’re about to go see paige bueckers!” she squealed dramatically like a fan, making azzi roll her eyes and laugh.

kk skipped to paige’s side the second they stepped in, faking stage fright with exaggerated gasps, wringing her hands as paige blinked at her, amused. still, a slow yet fond smile stretched across the blonde’s features at her friend’s theatrics.

she opened her arms, inviting an embrace as kk squealed and jumped into a hug, acting like she’d won a contest. azzi giggled from behind the camera, heart swelling when paige’s eyes flicked up to find hers, warm and instinctive. she opened her mouth to probably call her over for a quick peck before noticing the camera, tilting her head in a silent question.

azzi mouths “she’s vlogging.”

paige nods swiftly in understanding, wrapping her arms around kk as she rants about her first tech. azzi couldn’t help but swoon, heart softening at how paige was just glowing. she was radiant even after a tough game, so full of life as she interacted with the team. everyone adored her, loved her in a way that only pure adoration and respect could bring.

she doesn’t even wanna know how googly-eyed she looked right now, admiring her girlfriend, thinking of everything they went through. years of hiding everything, their affection, their love for each other.

and suddenly, azzi had had enough.

she was not about to sit quietly while the world missed the entire point of the most important thing in her life.

and she knew exactly what to do.

–

she rummaged around her suitcase, looking for the item paige had gifted her months ago.

the phone case.

it was a joke, really. they had been scrolling through social media when paige started giggling at her phone – a case a fan had designed.

“look at this, baby,” paige had grinned, tilting the screen as azzi took a peek. “some fan really made this.”

it was obnoxiously pink, bold letters stamped across it like a headline.

“excuse me,” azzi had scoffed, pouting dramatically. “position’s already filled, thanks.”

but paige had only laughed harder, tapping on the link to buy it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. she bit her lip to stifle her giggles as she silently ordered it, filling in her details with a mischievous smile. it didn’t take long for suspicious silence to get noticed by azzi though, gasping when she saw the screen.

“the fuck?” azzi gasped as paige snickered. “paige.”

“it’s for you,” paige said sweetly, azzi widening her eyes sassily. “you’re welcome.”

“fuck no.”

now though, azzi had never been more thankful for a phone case. “thank the lord for a weird girlfriend.” she muttered under her breath, snapping it onto her phone with a click and smirking as the lettering caught the light. bright pink. unmissable.

so, expect a lil something today.

the three bubbles appeared almost instantly, azzi smiling at how fast paige responded despite her being at practice.

should i be scared?

azzi giggled, biting back a laugh as she typed:

perhaps i’m using the phone case.

a pause.

the phone case? the one you swore you’d never touch?

maybe.

azzi typed with a smirking emoji, giggling as paige replied with a thousand shocked face emojis.

game time.

–

she was getting dolled up with her stylist when she decided to snap the picture. skin glowing from glam, hair curled to perfection by her stylist, the light hitting her skin just right. and yeah, maybe it was intentional that her legs looked perfect in the picture, almost distracting from the actual purpose.

the phone case clear as day with bright pink letters – a loud and proud declaration.

paige bueckers’ girlfriend.

“you menace,” hayley smiled, peeking over her shoulder as azzi typed out the caption.

azzi smirked, cheekbones sharp and eyes playful as she posed one last time in the mirror. “it gets to a point,” she sighed, tossing her hair dramatically, “where i’m like, maybe i do need to spell it out for them.”

hayley laughed, running her hands through curls gently, nodding in agreement. “baby, you’ve spelled it, shouted it, danced it, and now you really put it out there in bright pink letters.”

“real.” azzi nodded in agreement, looking over the story one last time.

post.

and then she waited.

the notifications came in like an avalanche: shocked emojis, screaming replies. fan edits already popping up her for you page with another taylor swift song. she tried not to let her hopes up too much, knowing the pattern from her previous attempts. still, she let herself breathe, heart thumping in her chest like she’d just sprinted across a court.

a buzz cuts through her thoughts, bringing a soft smile to her face.

paige bueckers’girlfriend huh?

azzi could already imagine the proud smirk on paige’s face, fingers dancing across the screen to reply.

you lucky woman.

paige’s reply came instantly.

god, i agree.

and just like that, azzi felt the warmth rush to her cheeks, biting her lip as she tried to calm the way her chest fluttered. she bit her lip, fighting down the stubborn blush paige still managed to coax from her, setting her phone down as she fanned her face. she glanced at hayley, who was definitely watching.

“don’t.” she warned, burying her face in her hands.

“you’re so in love.”

it was a simple sentence. one she’d heard multiple times from fans, friends, and family alike. she heard it when they posted a picture, played a game together, went to a family event together, or when a friend caught them staring at each other for too long. it was written in the way she and paige looked at each other, or in every quiet hug after a tough game, every stolen glance across a crowded room. yet, she couldn’t help but think back to everything – how it had started between them, and how this giddiness had yet to fade. she had a sneaking suspicion it never will.

because it was true. it was real, and it was theirs.

and maybe that was enough, the sure feeling she had when they made eye contact in a crowded room, the softness of paige’s touch even after a rough game, the unwavering support of the people around her and the fans.

that was enough.

she looked at the mirror, still smiling.

“yeah,” azzi whispered, almost to herself.

“i really am.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi fic

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sugxto · 2 days ago

Text

brutalizer(s) - eddie/volt/reader

⋆syn: You decide to "challengers" your new boyfriends. It, uh, doesn't go as planned.

⋆wc: 3.3k

⋆cw: m/m/f threesome, light dom/sub undertones, erotic electrostimulation, some very very minor dacryphilia, spit sharing, choking.

⋆notes: takes place immediately after the love route, but can be read independently. g/n pronouns for reader, called "good girl" and afab genitalia.

⋆snippet:

“Thought you did something there, huh?” Eddie’s voice is low, it hits you somewhere deeper in your belly than it has before. The whiskey sours earlier certainly aren’t helping. “It’s cute, but, come on.”

Volt chuckles, his lips against Eddie’s cheek, and his white hot stare locks on to you too. “Very cute, indeed. Really, spark,” his lips curl into what you can only describe as something dastardly, “did you honestly think I don’t already know his lips better than my own?”

“We could do a Volt and Eddie sandwich.”

The corner of Volt’s smile twitches, and he turns to Eddie with raised brows, hands nonchalantly in his pockets. Eddie’s face is uncharacteristically pink, and he casts a knowing glance at Volt, and pushes himself off the bar.

“Well, seeing as how we’re… closed for the evening,” Volt starts, his eyes traveling back to yours, “I think, something to that effect, can be arranged. Eddie?”

The ice that you’ve come to know in Eddie’s stare is gone, the new spark glittering in it instead. He looks more lively, more excited, more… confident?

“I… wouldn’t be opposed.” His eyes rake over your body, as if finally allowing himself to fully drink you in the same way he drinks his whiskey sours. “It’s been a while since I’ve been up to… enjoying myself.”

Oh, they’re serious.

I mean, you were serious too, but, right now? Right after they’ve just, essentially, come back to life?

But, who were you to turn down a good time?

You clear your throat. “Uh, here? In the club?”

Eddie scoffs, because you already knew the answer. “Absolutely not. No sex in the bar, that’s the one rule.”

“It’s not really a rule -”

“Volt.”

“Fine, fine, not here. Not tonight, at least.”

“Volt -”

“We live upstairs, a flat sort of thing.” Volt holds out his hand to you, want apparent in his gaze. “Shall I lead us there?”

You take his hand, that same spark from the first night surging up your arm, and you feel a second hand, strong and rough, at the small of your back as you head up the stairs.

You realize, when you get to the bedroom, that you’ve… never done this before. Two. At once? Separately? How… exactly does this work.

A thought sparks in your memory, of a movie you watched with Sam, where a girl swindled the two boys interested in her to kiss each other, and ya know, that’s something you might be interested in seeing.

You’re all in the bedroom now, both of them eyeing you, expectantly, though not hurriedly. You giggle nervously, holding your hands to your heart.

“I’ve uh, never done this before,” you admit. “Maybe, can I kiss you? And we can go from there?”

“Of course, darling. Whatever you want,” Volt cocks his head in Eddie’s direction. “I’ve already had the pleasure, so why not give Eddie a taste, hm?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs. “Ignore him, he can’t help it.” He holds out his hand, and pulls you closer when you take it. “But, I wouldn’t say no.”

Eddie’s lips are different from Volt’s, more hesitant, but soft, and gentle as he learns your pace and the shape of your mouth. He tastes like a whiskey sour, and you just want to drink him down.

Volt’s lips find your neck, and you notice he’s slipped off his shirt, and the air hums with the charge emanating off him. You lean into him, his strong arms, and Eddie pulls away to take off his own shirt as Volt smoothly whips off your dress. Eddie takes his turn at your neck, and the double dose of pleasure pulses like a current under your skin.

You raise your hands, find their cheeks, and gently, oh so gently, you bring their lips towards each other, hoping they don’t notice it’s no longer you. You’ll only watch for a moment, you tell yourself, before you insert yourself back in. No one will be the wiser. As their lips touch, their eyes stay closed, and you step back to quietly sit on the edge of the bed.

You watch their lips met with rapt attention, the ends of Volt’s hair sparking with each swipe of tongue you catch. Eddie’s teeth find the softness of Volt’s bottom lip, and a small sound escapes the back of your throat at the sight.

You expected them to pull apart at the unexpected sound, to open their eyes and realize what they’d done (and, not a small part of you hoped, punish you for it).

So it’s a bit odd, you think, when their kiss deepens. When Volt’s large hand, his silver nails, find Eddie’s jaw, and swipe acros his stubble. When Eddie, in turn, half opens his eye, and a titanium stare finds you past Volt’s cheekbone.

Your heart hammers in your chest. This is either going to go better than you expected, or much, much worse for you.

You’re not sure which you’re hoping for more.

Volt’s lips move to Eddie’s cheek, his jaw, exposing more of Eddie’s face to you - both his eyes, boring into yours. He’s barely hiding a smirk.

Oh.

Oh for amps sake.

Because, actually, no. That thought hadn’t occurred to you. Why hadn’t that thought occurred to you? I mean, come on, there’s only one bed!

Your mouth goes dry, your jaw goes slack, your eyes zinging back and forth between pure white and pure steel. You’re caught. You’re so caught.

“I, uh,” you start, but you’ve lost that bravado. “I never want to assume.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, Volt’s thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. He pecks it softly. “Right. How thoughtful.”

“This is what you were wanting, though, was it not, live wire?” Volt purrs as he extricates himself from Eddie’s side, taking a step towards you in a way that reminds of that tiger feeding you once saw at the zoo. Like a predator. Stalking. Possessive.

Oh fuck, you think. You’ve just fed yourself to the tigers.

Volt’s hands are on either side of the bed next to your hips. Caging you. You can feel the sparks from his hair, the charge in his skin. “You wanted all three of us to enjoy ourselves, yes?”

You nod, and you see a flash of his canine teeth as he smiles.

“Exactly. And we most certainly will. But,” his jagged eyebrows lift, “you thought you could have an upper hand. And, it absolutely delights me to say, you won’t be having that.”

Rough hands are on your shoulders, and you’re shoved down onto the bed, Eddie’s unruly coils dangling over you.

“Eddie, where did you -” you breathe, but one of those calloused hands is on your throat, squeezing just enough to silence you. Eddie’s grey eyes have darkened. Hunger, you think, he’s hungry.

Familiar sparks singe your inner thighs, but you can't lift your head to see what else Volt is doing - you can only feel the currents under your skin as his fingers find the crotch of your panties, pulling them only a little. Eddie only watches your face, how your brows furrow at the teasing, your eyes pleading for something he can’t give. Your hand comes to his wrist, not pushing him away, but needing to touch him more.

“Eddie,” you breathe, feeling the weight of his hand on your neck. “Eddie please -”

“Do I look like the one you should be talkin to?” His brows lift, his stare curious. “Ya know, I don’t even really think you’re in a position to be talkin, period. Volt?”

You feel the man in question hum over the cloth of your panties, already hot, and the literal electricity isn’t helping. “I think I can occupy them, if you can keep them quiet.”

Keep them quiet?? Your eyes widen, but Eddie only chuckles. “My pleasure.”

With limited movement, you’re only acutely aware of what Eddie does with his other hand, until you hear the zip of his fly, the rustle of fabric, and -

Oh, fuck.

Eddie’s cock is gorgeous, veiny in a way that reminds you of the wires he adorns, the head already leaking with pre. You lick your lips, staring at just a few inches over your face, and god, Eddie’s not the only hungry one.

“Fuuuck, Eddie,” you moan, bringing your hand up to try and touch it, but the hand around your throat moves faster, leaving its mark to grab at your wrist this time.

Eddie tsks his tongue. “Not so fast, live wire. Volt wants me to keep you quiet.” His other hand finds your cheek, stroking softly. “So, open your mouth, hm?”

The heat between your legs is getting unbearable, and you whimper when you feel Volt move the scrap of fabric to the side. “Yes, Eddie,” you manage, opening wide and offering your tongue.

His cock is so hot as it finds your mouth, the soft tip and drops of pre languishing over your tongue, you can’t stop your lips from wrapping around his length as he presses in further, further -

A zap to your clitoris makes your hips buck in surprise, and your eyes shoot open - you see nothing save Eddie’s balls above your nose, and another zap elicits a squeak from your full mouth.

Volt’s laugh is feral, his breath burning on your thighs. “Liked that, my little spark? Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of charge for us.” His thumb presses almost delicately to your bud, making the smallest of circles, testing, learning. “Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.” His thumb dips lower, finding your entrance already wet, waiting. “I simply must have a taste.”

His tongue is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before - Ben-Hwa’s vibrations are incomparable to the literal electricity that is swiping over your lips, your hole, your clit - it’s mind-blowing. It’s explosive. Volt works you almost too expertly to be believed, and your brain short circuits when a finger slips inside.

Eddie groans as he feels you moan around him, your hips wanting to buck, but one of Volt’s forearms keeps your hips pressed to the bed. You’re pinned, caged, at the whims of these two men, and it’s making you ache.

Faster than you can remember happening before, your belly coils with tension, your climax growing completely outside your control. Volt feels it too, he must, because he devours you with fervor, two fingers moving at an impossible pace inside you. It builds and builds and -

You see sparks as you cum, as your hips fight against Volt’s hold, as you struggle for something solid to hold to. Your skin tingles, you’re absolutely buzzing, you’re a -

“Mm, live wire,” you hear Volt’s smile as he says it, and he presses a kiss to your clit - it makes your leg shake unconsciously. “You are just too fun.”

You whimper, your body jello, your focus on keeping Eddie’s cock inside your mouth, but you feel him retreat, and whimper again at the loss.

Eddie strokes your cheek again, and you feel Volt climb onto the bed, sitting by your side. His touch slinks up your torso, the side of your breast, your bicep, trailing sparks the whole way.

He hums contentedly. “Good girl for taking Eddie so well, he says, and you flush, and watch him glance up at Eddie, who's sitting back on his knees. “And good boy keeping them quiet, Eddie.”

Eddie’s sigh sounds a bit amused. “You haven’t said that shit in a while.”

“Well, I mean it.”

“Uh huh.” Eddie’s hands reach for the back of Volt’s neck, pulling him closer. “Lemme taste, yeah?”

Volt’s chuckle is cut off by Eddie’s tongue swiping over his lips before pushing inside his mouth, and god, what a sight for sore eyes. The men pull at each other, teeth clashing, and in your blissed out state, you can’t stop the moan that leaves your lips.

Two sets of eyes stare down at you, two sets of lips curling into grins. “Oh, darling,” Volt purrs, “you want a taste too?”

You can only nod, and you will your body to lift yourself onto your elbows to meet them halfway. You watch them share a look, and your arms tremble.

“Open, then.”

You cock your head. “What?”

“Open. Your mouth,” Volt repeats, and you do, tentatively.

“Very good.” Volt turns back to Eddie, pulling his jaw with his thumb, and Eddie’s mouth drops for him. Volt positions his lips above him, and a line of spit trails from his lips onto Eddie’s waiting tongue.

These men. These men were going to kill you.

Eddie hums, and as he bends down to you, his hand trails down Volt’s stomach. You press your legs together, the anticipation sparking back inside you. Your nails claw at the sheets when Eddie hovers a few inches above your head, and you press your tongue even further out. The spit travels from his lips and lands, cold, on your tongue, and your legs twitch, your fists clench.

“Swallow,” Eddie says, voice thick and gruff with lust.

You do.

And they pounce.

You’re dragged up the bed, two sets of hands pulling and pawing. Somehow your bra is off, your panties are gone, you hear their pants hit the floor, and the temperature raises as more skin is exposed. You find yourself propped against the pillows, your back against Eddie’s stomach, Volt stomachs against yours, utterly pressed between them.

“Feel good, spark?” Volt says, his hand at your waist. “Your sandwich living up to expectations?”

You giggle, realizing this was, in fact, exactly what you’d asked for. “Absolutely.”

“Good,” Eddie grunts, his lips on your earlobe.

“We do aim to please.” Volt squeezes your side, grinding his hips against you, his length hard, pressing insistently at where your thighs press together.

“I’ll make sure to leave a -“ you gasp when Eddie’s teeth graze your neck, “a, fuck, glowing Breaker Box review.”

Volt’s grin is back to dastardly, and he grinds his hips harder against you. “Let’s ensure five stars, shall we?”

His hand moves from your hip to your thigh, a spark running down your leg as he lifts it and throws it over his thigh. His cock is pressed against your stomach, and another pair of hands reach around to cup your breasts, and now Eddie’s cock slots between your cheeks.

“Now, spark,” Volt’s voice is low, honeyed, and Eddie’s bites to your neck aren’t helping the buzz in your head. “Who do you want first?”

Best sandwich you’ve ever had.

“I, I have to choose?” You mumble out, barely able to form a sentence as Volt’s eyes study your face. Eddie groans, pinching your nipple to elicit a gasp from your lips.

“Mm, darling, we’ll work our way to not having to.” His fingers dance along your thigh, and Eddie’s cock slides along your skin. “Patience, for now, however. We wouldn’t want to break you on our first outing.”

Oh, but maybe you did.

You swallow, the wires of your mind completely disconnected. “Volt, I, I can’t. I can’t choose.” How could you? Between two perfect, adoring, electrifying men, that wanted you more than the currents in their bodies? It wasn’t fair, surely. They were one, they were yours, but you couldn’t choose.

Volt’s lips turn to a pout, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Oh, poor wire. Feeling frayed?” He tsks his tongue when you nod. “Alright, no more choosing tonight. Let us take care of you, hm? Just close your eyes.”

You do, and he again lifts your leg, granting full access to anyone wanting your hole. You ache, the air charged and your lips dripping with want. You feel both of them pull away from you slightly, no longer able to feel their lengths, and you whimper from the loss of -

An intrusion of your entrance makes you cry out in surprise, and slowly, terribly, intensely, you’re being filled, and it’s like a fire has been lit inside your cunt, under your skin, in your heart. It burns, deliciously, beautifully. You eyelids flutter when the cock bottoms out, and a familiar, rough hand is suddenly covering your eyes.

“You,” Eddie groans in your ear, “you, fuck me, feel perfect, spark.” His breath is ragged, and you curse when he thrusts, once, twice. “Oh fuck, oh, baby.” He says it reverently, lovingly. Your heart is going to burst out of your chest.

A new hand finds your nipple, a zap bringing it to attention. “How does he feel, our spark? Doesn't his cock feel like it’s going to split you in two?”

In another state of mind, you might want to linger on the implications of that question. But yes, in fact, as Eddie’s thrusts became more frantic, the possibility of you splitting at the center did seem more likely. If Volt holding up your leg was the only thing centering yourself.

Just as soon as you feel your climax building inside you, you’re empty, Eddie sliding out of you, and you grip around nothing, moaning at the emptiness.

“No, no, Eddie, please!” You manage out before the hand on your eyes slips down to cover your mouth. The callouses on his hands are harsh against your lips, and you barely manage out a moan of protest before something new slips inside you, long and hot and slipping in so nicely. Moans of protest quickly turn to acceptance, and Volt’s cock is just so easy to accept.

“Oh sweet amp.” Volt’s usually collected voice is shaky as he works his way inside you, taking his time much to your distress. “Live wire, I - we -”

“You,” Eddie breathes in your ear, “you might’ve been made for us.”

Ah.

That’ll do it, then.

You hardly even feel the build up, the spiringing coil, all you know if you’re cumming, you’re gushing without abandon on Volt’s cock, and tears spring to your eyes when they both curse, and Volt’s pace quickens. Eddie’s hand leaves your mouth, finding your neck again, controlling your air like he controls the very power of your home. Your body is slack, offering neither of them resistance, given over to the fire inside your belly, the weight of their hands, their control of your cunt.

You feel Volt slip out, and now Eddie is back inside you. The tears spill over your cheeks, and an electric tongue licks them up. Almost as quickly as you adjust to Eddie, he’s gone, and Volt is back, then Eddie, then Volt, until you’re no longer cognizant of the difference.

Eddie’s breath is erratic. “I’m, fuck, I -”

“Me too, darling,” Volt huffs. “Where -”

“S, stomach,” you moan. “Both, both, please.”

You’re on your back, your body liquid, but you open your eyes enough to watch their hands find each other’s lengths, pump once, twice, and then groan together as their cum lands on your skin, singeing like the flame of a candle.

It’s a haze, what comes after. They’re kissing your cheeks, tucking your hair, singing what you guess are your praises in your ear. Volt’s voice is distant, but you hear how he calls you a good girl, while Eddie wipes away their spend with a towel from his discarded pants.

You’re between them again when you return to earth, kisses peppered on your shoulder, tingles along your arms. It’s better than any dream, but somehow, you know it won’t disappear.

“Back with us, spark?” Eddie whispers when your eyes flutter open.

You smile softly, hum contentedly. “Always.”

“Very good,” Volt’s lips press to your collarbone. “You took everything beautifully, live wire. Our good girl. Our spark.”

You sigh, rolling onto your back, and find their cheeks with your hands. “You boys,” you smile, gaze flicking between them. “I love you.”

Steel meets white, then both meet you. “We love you too, little wire.”

#date everything #eddie and volt #volt date everything #date everything x reader #date everything smut #eddie date everything

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vasito-de-leche · 2 days ago

Note

I love, LOVE your characterization of the Saja Boys, and while I know you’ve only written complete dating hcs for Baby and Abs, I was hoping if it was okay if I could request something with the Saja Boys (separately) where it follows the prompt “you're about to argue but you're so pretty that his brain short circuits”? If you don’t want to write for all of them, then maybe you could do Baby and Abs (separately)?

;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS SAJA BOYS - Too Pretty

Saja Boys (separate) x Reader 2.5k words silly, fluff Being a demon's soft spot has its benefits. Who would've thought?

i'm so glad you like the way I write them!! this prompt sounded so fun, I just had to try my hand at it, thank you!

this also served as a way for me to slowly figure out how I'd like to characterize the other members o7 I tried to keep the relationship vague enough to be read as whatever people want, so hope that comes across well enough. also also, dont let these dramatic edgy idols fool you, all drabbles end up being silly and cute

JINU

"Are you even listening, Jinu?"

He is, of course. But he'd rather not, especially when you're getting worked up over nothing; so much for escaping an endless cycle of torture in the underworld, he now has to deal with a brand new mess, pacing behind him like a madman. By now, you've probably noticed the monotonous and non-committal answers he's been giving on loop.

"Uh-huh," Jinu's eyes never stray from the notebook in front of him, attempting to come up with a better verse for an upcoming song. And he knows he's fucked up when he hears you groan, stomping towards him.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I stopped listening abooout ... five or ten minutes ago, who's counting, but--"

Your hand comes into view, fast as lighting, and he can only look as you snatch the notebook away from him. Great, awesome.

There goes the perfect verse in his head. He remains frozen for a moment, the hand holding a pen still hovering over the now empty spot on his desk until your voice reaches him once more.

"If you're not going to listen, at least tell me so I don't waste my time talking to you."

Jinu slouches in his seat, raising both hands to cover his face, before sliding them upwards to slick back his hair in a feeble attempt at regaining his composure. You can't even see him from this angle, his back turned to you, but he still rolls his eyes.

You want to argue? Get it out of your system? Fine, he can give you the fight you want.

In one swift motion, his position changes; now he's straddling the chair, a powerplay he's come to master after bickering with his own band for so long, eyes closed as he prepares to deliver a devastating comeback to rile you up. But when he looks up, the golden glow in his eyes wavers--you're standing so close in front of him, looking down at his seated form with your arms crossed, as if daring him to speak.

He doesn't, and you tilt forwards, hair cascading over him so that the only thing he can focus is your face in this one-sided glaring contest.

Jinu has seen you at your best and your worst, but this is the first time he's found himself at the other end of your undivided attention and anger. It is as intimidating as it is alluring. What are you doing to him? Is this allowed? His neck feels hot, his face feels hot. The room feels like it's on fire, but not the same type of hellfire he's grown used to; it's a different sort of warmth, equal parts shame and pleasure as he takes in the sight. His lips part without him noticing, whispering ever so gently.

"Pretty ..."

"What was that?" Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Shitty. I said you look. Shitty. As in, you look like shit. Being angry isn't doing you any favors, you know? You should get some rest, okay. Byeee."

Without giving you any time to react, Jinu fumbles over his words, trips over your furniture and he stumbles out of your apartment in a rush, almost breaking into a sprint for the elevator. It's only when the doors close that he allows himself to breathe in and out, finally noticing the extra passenger inside with him. His bird companion chirps smugly, and Jinu groans into his palms.

"I don't want to talk about it."

ROMANCE

"I didn't mean it like that!"

Romance scoffs at your words, still refusing to leave his room. All the heart shaped decorations seem to mock him as he leans his full weight against the door, easily preventing you from entering no matter how hard you try to rattle the doorknob.

Both of you find yourself at the edge of an argument, and the decision to escalate things lies solely on his hands. He knows this because he can practically hear the affection in your words, even as you whine and tell him to get over himself to talk to you, face to face. That alone is enough to make Romance's chest tighten--no matter how many times he does this, this game of push and pull, you still make sure to chase after him time and time again.

Surely you must be reaching your breaking point; nobody is strong enough to withstand this much heartbreak. Maybe if he tries a little harder, you'll realize that there's nothing good in a future with him.

All he has to do is stay silent and wait for you to leave.

"Then what did you mean?" His voice is whiny, it always is. But you always insist that you love that about him, the way he feels so deeply about everything.

"You really want to argue about something like this?" You're right, you usually are--he's making things difficult when he's not even officially yours. "Well, I don't. So you can call me once you've cooled off."

And just like that, it's quiet; there's no more pressure pushing against him from the other side of the door, no more cutesy nicknames and attempts at coercing him out. Romance's heart drops, and he practically claws his way out, torn between cursing you out for proving him right and leaving, or begging you to take him back and sort everything out as if he hadn't been the one to start this. He's taken only a single step out of the threshold of his sanctuary when your smile greets him--you're leaning casually against the door frame, pretending to inspect your nails.

"So, are you done brooding all by yourself, handsome?"

That playful grin renders Romance speechless; the contrast of your casual attitude against his frenzied panic is impossible to ignore, he's gone through all five stages of grief in under a minute while your trust in him never wavered. Absence truly makes the heart grow fonder because there's a glint in your eyes that tugs at his heartstrings, wild strands of hair that he'd love to twirl in his fingers and kiss ever so gently. Romance knows that you'll let him if he asks for permission, and a knot forms in his throat, face flushed bright pink.

"No." It's all he manages to squeak out before closing the door once more.

"Rommie! Are you mad at me or not?!"

"I don't??? Know??? I need a moment! Just stay there!"

ABBY

"That's the last time I take you anywhere. You can't just pick a fight like that, Abby!" Abby sinks even deeper into the plush cushions of the couch as you continue to scold him, as if his sulking and his silence could single-handedly help him win this argument.

He's already found himself a comfortable spot, but you're still fussing about the living room, throwing your shoes to the side, sending your jacket flying onto the backrest of the sofa, pausing to drink and slamming the glass on the counter a little harder than necessary. Abby knows better than to try and stop you, so he stays put, waiting for his opening.

"What if anyone saw? Did you even think about that? The amount of trouble you'd be in?"

Those are all very good questions that he never bothered to consider; in fact, he still refuses to think about the consequences. There's no point in doing so when you managed to pull him away before he could do any damage to anyone, or to his own reputation as an idol.

"Like they'd even care," Abby huffs, trying to blow a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Just catching a glimpse of us outside is enough to make everyone turn a blind eye, it's almost too easy to work the crowd. One flex of these guns and any broken noses will be totally forgotten."

He makes an attempt to flex said guns, but he finds you looming over him from behind the couch, your grasp on his wrists as steady as death. There is a wild look in your expression, one he can't quite understand, but he finds it impossible to tear his eyes away from you. Getting to play the part of guard dog for you comes as easy as breathing, Abby can't get enough of the little tells that give you away, letting him know that you enjoy his antics--but it never crossed his mind that the tables could be reversed like this.

"Fine, let me put it this way! What if you got in trouble or worse, what if you got hurt? Ever thought of that one? Just because you're an all mighty demon doesn't mean you're--"

"You're hot when you're mad." He blurts out.

"I--What?"

A chance to rectify his mistake is presented to him, and he immediately pivots away from it when you blink your pretty eyes at him in confusion. "I said that you're hot when you're--"

"I heard you the first time, Abby. It's just--were you listening to what I was saying?" Okay, this is his chance to steer the conversation back on track. It's very easy, he just has to--

"If I say no, will you scold me some more?"

"Oh my God. Abby. Nevermind."

MYSTERY

Arguing with you is a rare occurrence.

But so is speaking to you, or engaging in any sort of conversation at all with anyone. This is one of the many perks that came with his role as the cool, mysterious and aloof member of the Saja Boys; anything he didn't feel like addressing could be easily swept under the rug and left ignored for centuries. This had been Mystery's modus operandi for years, and he wasn't planning on changing it any time soon.

You, on the other hand, were the opposite, filling the silence he often sought so desperately, until your voice became background noise in his life, a constant, confusing and somewhat comforting presence that simply followed him around.

Mystery still remembers the first time he deigned himself to reply, something off-handed that didn't matter at all, and yet you clung to his every word and went the extra mile to include him in your one-sided talks. It took a long time for the demon to get used to this, and an even longer time to acknowledge the fact that he enjoys the sound of your laughter, way better than the miserable voices crawling in the back of his mind.

Which is why the claustrophobic and oppressive silence lingering in the room irks him to no end. You're supposed to be talking, not playing hard to get or ignoring him over a stupid argument; the way you brush past him, barely acknowledging his existence as you go about your day is getting under his skin in ways he never knew were possible.

And then, for a fleeting second, you meet his gaze--this moment lasts for an eternity in his eyes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to seize the opportunity and break the ice, but before he can get a single word out, you turn around and begin to scroll through your phone. That's the last straw.

Mystery stands up and forces himself into your peripheral, hands firmly planted on the wall, trapping you in.

For the first time in forever, he wants to scream, to bark, to growl and give you a piece of his mind. But when he sees the way you awkwardly avoid his gaze, fiddling with your hands and standing at your tiptoes, Mystery relents and his frustration is replaced with something else; endearment. You're still wearing his merch, one of the very first shirts the Saja Boys released long ago with his name written on it, you're still attempting to hide from him despite knowing there's nowhere in the world you could go without him finding you.

Slowly, Mystery raises a hand towards you, enjoying your half-hearted attempt at shaking him off, pretending to bite the air near him.

And then he pinches your nose. "Cute."

After that, he leaves. You'll come around when you feel like it.

BABY

"You went too far this time, there was no need to get so personal back there."

"That's the entire point of dissing someone, duh. So, was it good? Did you like it?" Baby kicks his feet, hands cupping his cheeks to make himself look as innocent as possible. "I didn't know I could rhyme that many words with 'cunt' but it was soooo fun! Right, right?"

"Baby!"

Tsk. Guess it's the hard way today. That cute expression quickly turns into a scowl and he makes a bee-line for the fridge, if only to find something to drink and distract himself with.

He blows bubbles into the silly straw, sulking in the kitchen. "What? They got what they deserved. What kind of idiot would challenge me to a rap battle if they can't take the heat? Hellooooo, it's Baby Saja we're talking about."

"But it was a friendly thing, you turned it into a massacre for no reason."

"Heh," he knows he shouldn't, but he snickers to himself anyway. "Guess I did, huh? What, do you wanna have a go in their place?"

This is how Baby likes to play, to earn a reaction and entertain himself if only for a little--but you always know better than to play into his shenanigans. And you also know how to get a message through his thick skull, something that continues to astonish him to this day.

Baby continues to sip away on his drink as you busy yourself, fully believing himself to be the victor of this round. But dread starts to make its presence known deep in his chest as he sees you slowly gathering your things--this isn't how things usually go, you always stay the night at his place to keep him company, watching horrible romcoms, eating snacks and falling asleep at 5 a.m.

So why were you leaving?

"Hey, hey. Woaaah! Are you really going to ditch me because I got a little mean to some rando? That's so unfair." The look you give him is enough for his act to crumble, and Baby groans dramatically before hurrying to your side, tugging onto the hem of your sleeves. "Stay here! Pleeeeeeaase? I'll behave next time!"

It doesn't work; you pinch his cheeks and pull, stretching them like mochi. Your voice is stern, even after you let go. "You're old enough to know that what you have to say is 'sorry,' Baby. But if you want to beg for forgiveness, you'll have to try a little harder than that."

Shit. So much for being unfair, the tone of your voice and that look in your eye are more than enough to get all the thoughts in his mind twisted up--Baby hates when you don't indulge him, but even he has to admit that he loves that stubborn streak in you.

"What? Cat got your tongue? I know you well enough by now, there's no way you have nothing to say."

You never waver, meeting his eyes with the same intensity, running a hand through your hair. Baby's mouth turns into a fine line, followed by a pout. If he says anything right now, he'll most likely end up digging his own grave. You look SUPER hot right now, is that good enough to make up and get you to stay? Something like that would most likely earn him the silent treatment for a week.

"Sssssssorry ..."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it--"

"...for being soooo damn good at my job. Like it's my fault?"

"I'll see you tomorrow Baby."

"Aw, c'mon!"

#kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters saja boys #saja boys #jinu #romance #abby #mystery #baby #i write all of these in a dionysian frenzy i hope everyone knows this #excuse typos or weird wording

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twijaxx · 2 days ago

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Let’s be fr Sae in the new leaks looks like he wants his dick to be sucked, and you are gonna give it to him.

His member hit your throat for god knows which time this night, you are sure it’s bruised at this point, but Sae didn’t seem to care at all. Phone in one of his hands while the other one gently tugged at your hair.

You tried saying something but silly you forgot that you can’t speak with something in your mouth. Instead it send vibrations thru his spine which caused him to… wait?? did he just whimper???

You didn’t pay a lot of attention to what he was talking ab on the phone but you heard one particular sound, Sae disconnected. and as soon as he did shaky breaths and above whispers moans came out of him mouth.

“fuck- sorry i kept u waiting princess mghh!”

His dick started twitching uncontrollably inside your throat which only meant that Sae was close. So you decided to peak up the speed a little bit and give him more tongue action.

“agh- i’m gonna come.. don’t stop mhhh, u will take it right?? and- ahh.. swallow it like a whore u are”

You couldn’t do anything but slightly hum as a response and that’s what made Sae trip over the edge. You felt his seed spill into your mouth as the only thing u could hear was his hard breathing.

“stand up” -he ordered you, and as soon as you did Sae swings you over his shoulder and carry you to your bedroom.

“you think i’m not gonna return the favor??”

it’s gonna be a looong night..

i lost my ability to write YAYYYYY LETS TROW A PARTYYYY!!! i had to write this like two times… the first one is in my drafts tho if i ever want to finish it… I HATE MYSELF

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock fic #bllk smut #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock smut #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae smut #sae itoshi smut #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi #bllk sae #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #blue lock sae #sae smut

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npookie0 · 3 days ago

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Rap Your Way To His Soul

In a world where hunters fight demons every day and try to keep the Honmoon strong with their songs, you are a demon different than any other - instead of stealing souls and working for Gwi Ma, you are a niche soloist rapper who found another way to not die from starvation and block his voice. One day, the world shifts and a new boys band appears our of thin air, a demon boy band. You tried to keep away from the conflict between Huntrix and the Saja Boys, until one day you've been paired with the boys band's rapper who discovered your secret. "But Gwi Ma never mentioned another demon being on surface…?" "Yeah? Well he never said that he'd build a boys band either."

Words: [ 2954 ]

Tropes: forced proximity, you help him discover something about himself

cws: scenes of fighting, spoilers for Kpop Demon Hunters

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

So I'll give you a heads up for my idea about Baby's personality before you read it! To me Baby is a unbothered king basically, he doesn't really care (his face when they're at the signing with Huntrix) but he can also be a cunning bastard when he needs to be (Your Idol rap moment the faces he makes there, the way he's smirking at Huntrix when Saja Boys takes their leave) but since his band archetype is being the baby of the group (his name is literally Baby) so I will assume that he's the Maknae and is the youngest so he will also be childish in a way, please accept my interpretation of that guy

You were a niche rapper in the Korean music industry, sometimes you were invited to some variety shows, either doing some rap challenges, do things that were supposed to bring entertained to the viewer like trying to sing a popular song that didn't include any rap, or, rarely, had an opportunity to talk about yourself.

You enjoyed these moments, interacting with your fans, performing for them, even if there weren't that many people you were still excited to give them a chance to see you again and grow a bigger audience.

Even a demon like yourself was weak to the charm of happy fans.

Though, you would hardly call yourself a demon. Besides the patterns and abilities you used for special effects you weren't that demonic. Not after you found yourself on the surface at least.

At first, you were like any other demon, trying to devour human souls, you heard Gwi Ma, you felt shame and misery. Yet, after finding your love for music everything changed, you started your small rapper career, gained fans and most importantly of all, got your soul back. Thanks to regaining your soul you were able to stop feeding off the energy stealing souls gave you, instead you got energy from your fans singing your songs with you.

You knew about Huntrix and their identity as demon hunters so you avoided them at all costs, you didn't want to fight them and lose the life you built for yourself. Every time you were invited to an event for idols, no matter how tempted you were to go, if you knew that Huntrix would be there too you would make up an excuse to not go and politely refused the introductions.

Other than Huntrix, you didn't follow any news from the high ranked pop groups, so you were unaware of the Saja Boys blow up and their rivalry with the three hunters, to you they were a boys band that you didn't really care about.

So meeting one of them on a variety show was a surprise to say the least. Especially after you saw what he was.

But, let's start from the beginning.

You got a call from Play Games With Us, they invited you to take part in a new game they came up with "Rapper Wars", since you are a soloist rapper yourself you accepted their invitation.

"Hi Y/n! It's good to see you after so long!" The host greeted you when you entered the stage. Your fans screamed and clapped when they saw you, chanting your name.

"Hi everybody! It's good to see y'all after so long!" You replied, waving at your fans.

The TV crew fixed up your and a few others rappers' make up, while that was happening you looked around the stage. You knew all the rappers present there, with some you even made songs together.

You know all of them, except one. A guy with teal hair, wearing a pink baggy sweater, yellow beanie, skinny jeans and sneakers. He had a lollipop in his mouth, he had a thoughtless expression, like he didn't really care about being there. But where the lights turned on he suddenly became all sweet, sending hearts to the camera and smiling.

Sure, a lot of idols have two personas, that wasn't a shocker, but at least they pretended to be nice and sweet if the cameras were off too.

"Hello, hello! We hope you're excited because today we have prepared a special game for everyone!" Said one of the hosts.

The other host chimed in with a big beaming smile. "The game is "Rapper Wars!" But our favourite handsome host, what is the game about? You all are probably asking yourself and don't worry, we will explain it now!"

"Yes, yes, yes. Explanation time! So, as you guys can see we have all our favourite rappers; Chaeyoung from Twice..." The host introduced each guests, while camera pointed at them to smile and wave. "And finally we have our newest rap stage star, Baby Saja from Saja Boys and our beloved soloist Y/n!"

Baby? That's an.... interesting name....

"So, in our game these talented artists will make teams of two and will have to perform together, the duo who wins with all other contestants will perform a song they have to write together in the next episode of Play Games With Us!"

After some more explanation everyone started to pair up and soon you and the guy from Saja Boys were the only people left. You made your way over to him and outstretched your hand to him.

"Guess that we'll work together now." You said with a gentle smile. You had no reason to not like him so you could be friendly.

He looked at your hand and then at your face, he squeezed your hand. "Yeah." Was his only response. Well that was definitely a start.

You two were asked to sit down in one of the "rap thinking zone" areas that the hosts prepared for all of you.

When you two sat down you took a closer look at Baby and noticed a weird shift on his skin, you focused on his neck and then you saw them; the patterns.

The same patters you had. That guy's weird behaviour and name made sense now, he's a demon. But why would a demon be in a boys band? Were the rest of them demons too? Was it Gwi Ma's idea? What if they discover you too?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise that Baby was calling you until he started poking you with a pen. "Hey. Hey, hey! We have to win this, so work." He pointed at the papers in front of you.

"What? Oh. Yeah, right. Sorry." You coughed and picked up the papers filled with song lyrics.

You were glad that the demonic rapper wasn't really paying attention to you so he wouldn't notice the patterns you had to bear on your own skin. Maybe having your soul helped you seeming more human to the demon.

The two of you worked, silently rapping the lines you assigned to each other. You had to admit that for a demon he was pretty good, even better than most people you worked with before.

"Do you want to perform with a choreography or just focus on rapping?" You asked.

"I don't really care." He had a similar reply to most questions you asked. You started to notice that he was lacking in dealing with interactions. Sure, maybe he was a good rapper and had some acting skills, he barely spoke and couldn't keep up the sweet act all the time. It was almost funny to look at.

"Now Baby and Y/n will be fighting Syngwon and Joel! Let's see who wins!" The host annouced and all lights turned at you, Baby and your opponents.

You shared glances with Baby, who was still unaware of your secret, and the performance began.

You felt energy fill you when the show's fans joined in, chanting and singing. You didn't pay attention to anything other than the feeling of freedom and love that filled you. You performed perfectly, interacting with the fans and encouraging them to join in.

You won. This round and then five more. You won the event.

You were filled with excitement to the brim, a mix of your own feelings and the emotions you absorbed from the fans. It felt great, you didn't even care about the weird looks Baby gave you when you stood together on the stage and said goodbye to the viewers.

"Didn't know that demons walked so freely amongst humans." You stopped in your tracks when you heard an ominous and monotone voice coming from behind you.

You were on your way back home, groceries in your hand. You slowly turned around and there he was, Baby in his full glory. Instead of cute clothes he was wearing black robes and a gat, his hair was darker, his skin was greyshly-blue with darker patterns all over it and his eyes, piercing deep into your own, were yellow. He looked similar to how you looked in your demon form.

"You didn't have to sneak up to me, y'know?" You groaned. "So, you found me out, huh?"

He smirked, circling a lollipop in his hand. "Wasn't at all hard, I saw the souls that shared their energy with you, I saw your patterns." He pushed himself of the wall and teleported right in front of you. "it's really interesting."

"What is?" You looked at him, unimpressed with his confidence.

"Y'know," he took your hand in his and your patterns showed, "the fact that a demon has a music career and doesn't eat souls." He raised an eyebrow. "Why's that Gwi Ma didn't receive any soul."

"I don't work for the tragic king of demons." You shrugged and started walking, if he wanted to talk to you he could follow you.

"Wait, what?" He asked confused, going after you.

"That. I don't do anything for Gwi Ma, I don't send him souls, I don't hear him. He doesn't know that I'm here."

He chuckled, amused by your words. "Don't joke around, we all hear Gwi Ma, it's impossible not to hear him!"

You turned to him and sighed. "Yeah? Guess I'm a human then."

Your pace fastened suddenly and teleported away from him, creating a longer distance with you.

Baby caught up to you and grabbed you by your wrist. "How did you... how did you get your soul back?" He suddenly sounded serious, there was a tinge of hope in his eyes.

You looked at his hand holding your wrist and pulled it away from his embrace. "I can tell you about it later. We have to work on a song together anyway, so why not figure each other out while we do that. hm?"

"Hah, you could rival Mystery with your secrecy. Sure, sure, demon soloist, I'll see you." He saluted you before teleporting away.

You shook your head and made your way back to your apartament. Looks like you've got yourself a very interesting artist to work with.

"So, what's the deal with you and the cute appearance?" You asked once you and Baby were in your recording studio. It was secluded so no one would hear your demon related discussion and you knew it well enough to be safe if he tried anything.

Baby looked at you from over the lyrics you were writing. "Jinu came up with the whole boys band idea, we're supposed to steal the hunters' fans and destroy the Honmoon." He shrugged.

"Destroy Honmood to feed the dying king?"

"Something like that, yeah. I don't really care, I just want to get a reward for suffering like this."

You chuckled. "Really, what a terrible fate you must be living. Wearing cute clothes and beign adored by all. What a nightmare."

Baby looked offended with your reply, just scoffed and suddenly was very eager to work on the lyrics.

"I'm so glad that this whole suffering is done for me, no more Gwi Ma, no more killing humans."

"About that, how do you not starve?"

"Hm? Oh, that." You leaned back in your chair. "Basically it's about people willingly sharing their love with me, if they share it, it flows into me like river water into the sea and that's my main source of energy."

"So that's why you went for music huh?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of?" He titled his head, confused.

"Yeah, kind of. I love singing, always did, even with my broken demon voice. I love the adoration I receive and the fans. This is why I'm still stuck in Korea even if I know that Huntrix could find me at any moment." You looked at him. "You don't feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"The happiness coming from love. Your fans love you, adore you."

Baby looked at you after hearing your words. He took some time to answer. "They're humans. I eat their souls and that's what matters."

"You don't believe that."

"I do!" He shouted. "I know what I believe, and humans are nothing but food to me. I sing to steal their souls."

"Whatever makes you happier, Baby Saja." You looked at the papers in front of you. "What if... I take you out tomorrow?"

"Huh? What?"

You ignored his question. "Do you like amusement parks?"

"..." He looked away. "I never was to an amusement park."

You perked up after hearing his answer. You took him by his hand and he jumped up in his chair. "Well, you'll be in one tomorrow! Cancel all your evil-world-domination plans, cause we'll be having lots of fun." You smiled beamingly and you could swear that you had a tinge of smile on Baby's face.

The following way was truly magical. You took Baby to your favourite amusement park and the fun started when you barely stepped through the main gates. Fans surrounded the two of you, asking for pictures, autographs, declaring their love and so on. You glanced at Baby between every fan interaction and you could tell that even if he felt a slight discomfort, overall he had fun. He eagerly signed every picture and even laughed when his fans recreated his famous "goo goo ga ga" from his first appearance in the variety show.

After the first big wave of fans you took him to a roller coaster and many other attractions. For you, they were somethings you already did so you had more occasions to pay attention to the growing kpop star next to you. And saying that he had was an understatement. Shooting targets, bumper cars, even the Ferris wheel.

You saw the light in his eyes, the excitement and pure emotions. He didn't look like a gloomy, tired of everything demon like the first time you met him. He was actually interested in the attraction he took part in.

You took a break on a bench before your last surprise stop. A corndog in your hand while Baby had a giant pink cotton candy. He swayed his legs back and forth as he pulled away pieces of the sweet snack and ate them.

"Enjoying yourself?" You asked, reaching your hand to wipe a piece of cotton candy from the man's cheek. He nodded energetically, his eyes glowing. "Didn't know you had such a sweet tooth." You chuckled.

You waited until the two of you were done eating and pulled him off the bench. "C'mon! There's one more place I want to show you." You rushed him and forced him to follow behind you as you led him through the crowded amusement park.

You reached it, the aquarium. You were wondering if taking him there was really that good of an idea since he seemed to like the adrenaline quickening attractions more, but your worries were washed away when you saw him glued to the glass and gently poking it with his finger while a fish tried to catch his finger. He looked like a kid who saw real fishes for the first time.

You were forced to hold his hand while you walked through the building or he'd get lost while he looks at sharks or something. You didn't really talk, Baby was busy watching and chasing fish - not really caring if he forced you to chase them with him. And you were watching him, seeing the slight shifts in his aura. He felt less hostile and negative than he did before, maybe it wasn't a big chance, but you saw potential in him.

You saw a chance for your new companion to find freedom.

"Hey, Y/n?" He asked suddenly when the two of you stood in the middle of the biggest room in the whole aquarium.

"Hm?" You hummed in response, looking at a hoard of jellyfishes swimming by.

"How does it feel... to not hear him?"

You turned around, looking at the man who's expression was now stiff and serious.

"Ah, Gwi Ma." You turned back to the jellyfishes and pointed at them. "I feel like them. Unbothered, just swimming by everything. They know that they won't be safe forever, but they live by present not future." You smiled and looked back at him. "That's how it's for me. I know that I'm stil a demon and the hunters may not be forgiving even if I wish they would, but it doesn't matter to me. I have the things I love and the people who love me, that's what I live by now and I know that there's no demon king who can take that away."

Baby didn't answer, he looked at his hand holding yours and...

There was a glow, it was slight, weak, barely there.

The blue glow of his soul.

It was warm, gentle, but still had some sharp corners.

It seemed like he didn't notice that, but maybe it was for the better. You wanted to see the progress yourself, for him to not feel terrified or pushed to do more or less, to maintain or reject that soul that came back to him.

"We should get back, we have a song to make." You squeezed his hand.

He pouted. "But it's so fun here."

"We can return after our performance, you big kid."

"Pfft, okay." He scoffed.

"I've got an idea for the title." You said when you left the amusement park.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we'll call it; Freedom."

Maybe it wasn't a very original idea, but in your mind it created a perfect image of what Baby could get if he and hid friends tried hard enough to accept their mistakes instead of living in endless misery because of them.

Okay my first ever Baby x reader fic done! Writing it was hard but I hope that you guys like it! The next ones will be better I swear <3 I just need to get a better hang on writing these handsome demon boys

See you my dear Kpop Demon Hunters fans

Nate <3

#fanfic #kpop demon hunters #baby saja #baby saja x reader #baby x reader #saja boys #demon reader #rapper reader #soloist reader #gender neutral reader #forced proximity

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enhani-ki · 2 days ago

Text

my biggest opp - reader x ni-ki part ii

warnings: smut, power play, cursing, etc.

read part one

you assumed that after having sex with ni-ki, your biggest opp, it would be awkward and uncomfortable…

but never this empty.

you arrive at your office monday morning to find your inbox startlingly free of his scathing one-liners. there's no "nice dress. shame about the brain." no "can you actually type without making typos?"

his favorite mockery is gone, somehow leaving you strangely bereft.

you tapped your pen against the wooden surface of your desk, scanning for any hint of his sabotages. the folder you thought you'd need for the managerial position, his file on your "possible fraudulent activities" are also nowhere to be found.

because according to him, you fucked him so good that he destroyed every single thing he had that could ruin you.

relief flares that he stopped, of course. but unlike him, you still do your best to make his life miserable, leaving yourself doused in guilt — feeling like an asshole.

an entire weekend passed. you swore you weren't dying for his banter, and yet whenever your phone buzzes, you leap out of your skin.

nishimura riki: stop messing with my report. are you fucking insane?

minutes passed.

nishimura riki: you must be missing me.

your lips twitched into a smirk. hell if you know how to respond.

i didn't do it, dumbass.

really? that's the reply? he'd know you were lying (or worse, honest). the cursor kept blinking in your reply box, taunting you. you typed, erase, typed again, erase — you racked your brain, thinking of a good comeback.

you: you're so stupid. also, my life has been so peaceful without you. please stay right where you are.

nishimura riki: i can come by your house and make your life hell again. if you want.

of course you want it. you'd kill him… or you'd kill for him to come over right now but shit, even the line between those urges were already starting to blur.

you spent your lunchtime writing a status report. your fingers snapping across the keys but your mind drifts to that shameless first night with him.

the night where you wrestled with him for that fraud file of yours. the heat of his breath when you kissed him, when it finally landed on your skin…

you remember all of it. every time you lean over to pull a document from the printer, you imagine the wide arc of ni-ki's arms behind you, the precise angle of his jaw, his thick lips devouring you while telling you how much he hated you for existing…

it's all fucking there.

and as if reading your thoughts, your phone lit up again.

nishimura riki: i want to see what i'm missing.

you: fuck you. you literally work five feet from me.

nishimura riki: and new skirt? goddamn

your stomach clenched. so he… noticed? he noticed your above the knee with the slit at the side that shows just enough thigh to be questionable but still professional according to the office dress code new skirt?

you: your point?

nishimura riki: you look good and i want to see it up close.

a shiver runs down your spine. ni-ki's words became so direct, so suggestive, you can't help but to swallow hard and bite your lip. you sighed, immediately closing the report window before anyone could see you blush.

you check your company messenger during break. you noticed nishimura riki's presence: his avatar pops into view with the status "ready to crush it."

how fucking pretentious.

you just hoped ni-ki would do something back so you could stop feeling guilty whenever you sabotage him, then it would all go back to hell. the hell you not-so-secretly love. the hell he seemed to have loved before — and now forgotten.

@you @ni-ki i expect great results from the two of you. focus on the work, not drama.

you sat on your couch, sipping a cup of lukewarm green tea when your phone buzzes.

nishimura riki: we're stuck together for the next couple days.

you smirked when you realized how he can't stop texting you. you plop your head back against the cushion, totally interested.

you: yeah. happy?

nishimura riki: ecstatic.

ni-ki signs off with a kiss emoji, making you scowl in disgust and throw your phone onto the cushion. he'll see how you haven't responded and he'll definitely laugh about it tomorrow.

you came into the office projecting confidence the next morning. ni-ki is already there, beating you in punctuality. he's leaning back in his chair, scrolling through his phone but smiled immediately when your eyes met.

"you're late," he drawls.

"shut up," you fired back, tossing your bag under the table. you saw another folder you've been dreading. ni-ki's opened it already— hands off, though.

"fuck... i couldn't sleep," he said, casually looking at your eyes.

who asked? is what you would've said but instead, it's: "why's that?" you leaned in, "last i heard, sleeping without protection was your specialty."

he nodded slowly. his urge of choking you to death using his necktie suddenly crossed his mind, like it always does whenever you talk back.

he never followed through, of course. because every time he pictures it, the ending is him fucking you instead. he saw you submitting not because of trust, but because you can't help it.

ni-ki sighed and quickly pulls your chair close to him, making your pulse quicken. "hmm, what do you mean 'heard'? we both know you know that for a fact," he teased, his hand trailing up to squeeze your thigh. "also, did i ever told you how bad you needed practice?"

heat blooms across your cheeks. didn't he say you fucked him good? this fucking guy keeps challenging you — mentally and sexually.

you scoffed and opened your mouth to retort but your boss already knocked on the door, barging in to start the meeting.

the day isn't even done, yet you and ni-ki have exchanged more messages than you have with anyone else all week:

nishimura riki: did you catch the way that idiot glanced at your legs during the meeting? that mf is gonna keel over later once you unplug your laptop.

that 'idiot' is notoriously stiff when it comes to 'office decorum.' the thought of him being flustered at your skirt is thrilling, but:

you: you know i'd rather see how you react when i ask you to take off my skirt.

nishimura riki: come to my office then, i'll show you.

you stood up as soon as everyone's too busy to notice your absence. you opened ni-ki's door without so much as a knock. the tall guy is leaning against the edge of his desk, shirt already untucked, tie loose — completely losing his patience.

you walk towards him. he traces a finger along your jaw, tilting your face up, brushing his thumb over your sexy lips.

"show me," you whispered, sliding both hands flat against his chest.

ni-ki leaned in. "hmm, watch me," he replied, turning you gently by the hips, pulling your ass against his crotch — where you can feel the rigid outline of his cock through his trousers. you pressed yourself back, grinding on him as his hand tightens on your hip.

"we have a meeting at six, right?" he murmurs in your ear. "let's get you naked under this skirt."

"i already am…"

unbelievable.

"you really are a fucking tease, huh?"

your breath hitched when you feel his tip nudging against your folds. ni-ki slowly slid inside your welcoming heat — his cock was so big and hard, making your knees buckle as you can practically feel him rearranging your guts without even moving.

ni-ki moaned, "oh, y/n—" biting his lower lip before pressing one more searing kiss to your neck. "i could stay like this all day," he said.

you let out a shaky gasp, head dropping forward with a whimper. your fingers reached back, grabbing his hands — his big, warm hands that are locked around your hips. "ni-ki…"

"let's not sin so much today," he groaned softly, hips giving one teasing rock that makes your whole body jolt before he pulls his cock out. he stepped back and adjusted your skirt like a gentleman — making you feel full and hollow in the same instant.

that same afternoon, you decided to head to the break room for water. you stop short when you saw ni-ki with the boss' niece, who came to visit the office.

she's laughing, batting her eyelashes at him while grinning so hard. you didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she mentioned something about wanting him to show her around — and that guy just casually folds his arm around her shoulders.

"look at you, you social climber," you interrupted, clapping your hands slowly, it echoed like a gunshot.

ni-ki glances at you lazily over the girl's shoulder. the niece looks startled, she gave you both a sheepish laugh before excusing herself.

"how long have you two been planning world domination?"

"are you jealous?" he asked, chuckling as he drags out a chair for himself. "'cause i'm telling you that's pathetic."

"wha—?"

"don't worry, y/n. it's just been few days, i'll make sure to find some time for my favorite brat."

you scoffed, grabbing your water a little too aggressive. "wow... you sound so proud of being passed around like a party favor."

"passed around?" he repeated, raising a brow. "jealousy already doesn't suit you and now you're possessive too?"

you shot him a sharp glare but he just leans back in his chair, spreading his legs like he's offering you a seat.

ni-ki sighed, "fine, i'll come over tonight," he declared so casually, it made your jaw drop.

"excuse me?"

"you heard me." he stretched and yawned. "you don't have to agree. i've already made up my mind."

"you're crazy."

he stands up, brushing past you as he grabs a protein bar "leave the door unlocked for me, okay?" he whispered, leaning in to give your cheek a quick kiss.

the sound of your skins slapping were obscene. ni-ki's breaths were heavy, his muscles tensed doing his best holding back from losing control. his necklace kept bouncing against his chest every time he slid in and out of your wet cunt. he hit it deep and slow, making your toes curl.

you looked down and watched at where your bodies met.

"oh, my–" he groaned when he felt your walls flutter around his cock. "this feels so fucking insane right now."

your arms tightened around his shoulders. "you haven't fucked me in days," you breathed out, looking up at him, admitting, "i was so stressed out."

"yeah, i know," he replied, "and look how mean you've gotten."

"kiss me..." you asked shyly — too quiet for ni-ki who was busy thrusting, far gone in the rhythm he was chasing to even hear it.

frustrated, you reached up and grabbed his hair — hard. your fingers got tangled so deep in the roots of his bleached strands, yanking him down without warning so you could force his mouth closer.

"ah—f-fuck—!" ni-ki hissed, jolting from the sharp tug. his hips slowed down for a second.

his palm slapped your arm away, the sound echoed a little loud in the room. it wasn't as harsh as what you did, but it was firm because he was hurt. a very clear response to pain.

your eyes slightly widened when he snatched your wrist, flipping you like you're a dead weight. one second you were just looking up at him — now, your face was pressed into the pillow, ass up. ni-ki's hand stayed flat on your lower back, keeping you in place.

his fingers dove straight into your hair, fisting it tight, pulling your head up until your back arched and your spine hit his chest. it forced a cry out of your throat, you quickly hold on to the headboard for your own control.

"it hurts, right?" he muttered, brows furrowed. his voice sounded pissed. "you dumbass."

your mouth parted to argue but you were too breathless and stunned at how fast he turned the tables on you.

ni-ki let go of your hair roughly. your cheek sank back into the pillow. his hands slid down to your hips, spreading you wider. it was careless and he moved confident as he positioned you just how he wanted.

your moans started crumbling into soft sobs — not from pain but from realizing how you weren't too used to getting caught off guard, let alone losing control.

your thighs started shaking, your breath had gone shallow, and ni-ki noticed it right away.

"shit—" he cursed under his breath, the movement of his hips started faltering before slowly pulling out from your pussy. he leaned down to kiss the back of your neck gently. "can you sit up?"

you nodded weakly. he helped you, pulling you gently onto his lap, seating you over one of his thighs while holding you carefully. "did i scare you?" he asked, worried and cautious.

"no...not at all." you replied, shaking your head in assurance.

ni-ki sighed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. he place a long kiss your temple, "i'm sorry, y/n." he continued, "do you want to stop?"

you sniffled and pulled back to look him in the eye like you're a little offended, "hell no."

a small grin broke across his face. he's amused, relieved, but mostly turned on all over again. ni-ki buried his face into your neck, laughing softly. "good," he murmured, lips dragging across your skin.

"ride me."

each movement felt better than the last. his cock dragged against the deepest part of you, his blunt tip kept hitting your cervix, making you gasp in pleasure.

ni-ki sat back against your headboard, his thighs spread wide, letting you straddle him fully. his hands never stopped moving – gripping your waist or holding your nape, the other catching the bounce of your breast. his thumb grazes over your nipple, and sometimes, he'd lean in to suck it, groaning at the way your pussy clenched in response.

his hair was messy. he was so loud – groaning through his gritted teeth – that goddamn chrome necklace catching the low light as he tip back his head to moan.

you can't stop staring. you can't stop running your fingers through his hair, brushing the strands back, or cupping his jaw just to see his face better.

"ni-ki..." you whispered.

his eyes blinked open, resting his forehead against yours.

you were moving fast and steady, sinking down on his dick over and over again while your bodies stayed too close — noses brushing, stealing each other's air.

"you– you're so handsome," you breathed out, barely even realizing you said it.

"me?"

"yes," you whispered. "you."

he grinned and leaned forward after hearing that double down. ni-ki gave you a messy, open-mouthed kiss, your fingers threading through his hair again as your hips rocked in desperate circles.

you pulled back to suck on his jaw next, under his ear, then down to his neck — biting softly, marking him. you wanted to leave something there. something that would remind him how much you wanted to do this over and over again.

now, you're sitting in the center of your mattress, blinking stupidly slow as you try to process just how many times he made you cum. "g– god," you mumbled, "i think my spine broke."

ni-ki huffs a soft laugh, still catching his breath too, resting his head on his arm while his other hand would caress your stomach or squeeze your boobs. "you're fine... it's hurting because you are still talking too much."

"o– ow..."

ni-ki sat up and hugged you. placing soft kisses to your shoulder, your neck, and then to your temple. "fine, let's have it checked later. just lay down with me for now."

you nodded, laying down, pressing your back against his chest. you felt his smile against your skin, smug and fond. ni-ki palmed your breasts again... he can't stop touching you even if he wanted to.

"mm, you're such a baby," he murmurs against your hair, "what happened to the terrifying monster who's always mean and yells at me in meetings?"

"dead," you replied quietly, leaning against him. "she died."

ni-ki chuckled again after seeing you blush. he grinned before peppering kisses on your cheek again and he doesn't say it but he adores this messy, clingy, soft version of you.

the one only he ironically gets to see.

you sniffled, pressing your face to his neck. "ni-ki..."

"what?"

"i wanna see bisco."

"oh..."

"i– i wanna see your dog," you sniffled again, voice sleepy and soft. "even if he hates me…"

ni-ki smiled and whispered, "okay, baby." brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead, "i'll take you to see bisco as soon as he gets home."

later after a doctor's consultation, the dog-sitter also dropped off bisco. you're already in his apartment, in his shirt he basically forced you into wearing.

"wait–!" ni-ki reached out to get bisco but it ran towards to where you were. "bisco!" you gasped, eyes lighting up as you rushed toward the tiny white ball of fur that sprinted right away from you.

"bisco, come on! we brought you snacks!" you tried coaxing, crawling on your knees to look under the couch, but the little thing lunged out and bit your wrist – not hard but more of a warning chomp – "fuck– ow!"

ni-ki leaned against the wall, arms crossed and smiling like a proud dad watching the chaos unfold. "i told you he's dramatic."

you didn't care. you kept following bisco around the room, letting him bite, bark while you giggled and chased him with unearned affection... which ni-ki found strange because before, you probably would've fought with that small dog, until it fears you for rejecting you.

finally, bisco ran out of energy and jogged towards his bed, completely ignoring you like a diva.

you pouted and walked back to ni-ki, dragging your feet like you'd just been dumped. "why is it sweet to everyone but me, huh?" you mumbled, melting into his waiting arms.

ni-ki laughed and tugged you in, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. "i don't think he hates you, y/n," he murmured, voice soft as his hand roamed slowly down your ass. "give it some time."

"or he knows you've been giving someone else all your attention." you added, rolling your eyes. "right? i knew it, he's jealous."

his lips found yours. "no," kiss. "he's not," kiss. "jealous," kiss. the kisses are so different from before. no clashing of teeth, no busting a lip open, or bruising... it feels like forgiving each other.

and usually, this groping and kissing would spiral into sex, but today, you both weren't even thinking about it. there's just the need to be close, not just to get off.

ni-ki was so distracted by you that he doesn't even know when did he stopped trying to win in everything.

he had plans too, you know? he thought about getting his lick back but whenever you come around, the noises in his head disappears, the urge to get even fades, and suddenly, there's nothing even left to fight for.

he pulls back just enough to see your face. you blinked up at him, tired and sleepy, your lips were still swollen from all the nonstop kissing.

but still, you're so goddamn kissable.

you gave ni-ki a kiss again when you saw him staring – once, twice – "i gotta go," you whispered eventually.

"this early?"

"yeah, i'm getting hungry."

"we can cook–"

"stop–"

"–y/n..." he interrupted, cutting you off. ni-ki opened his mouth then closed it before clearing his throat. "no. nothing. just…" he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. his eyes kept darting down to the floor like he couldn't believe he was about to say it. "just take care, okay?"

you tilted your head, "t–thanks…"

what the hell?

you're still mean and you still drive him insane, ni-ki took a deep breath – he swore he hates being this kind of guy but fuck it.

now or never.

"do you wanna have dinner with me?" he asked. he said it a little too fast, it's obvious that he was shy. "outside."

"huh?" you blinked. "you mean like–"

"yeah," he said, pressing his lips together, swallowing thickly. "like a–"

"...like a date."

ni-ki braces himself for the teasing and for your usual sharp reply. he knows you'll probably laugh in a few seconds but right now, you're just staring at him, eyes wide in surprise and that alone slightly gave him a little hope.

and he thinks, if this is how he loses, then fine.

let's let it be you.

a/n: my biggest opp 3k notes special! thank you so much for all the love and good comments. the first part came out on march 1 so it's been three months... there's so much (an understatement lmao) drafts for this and lots of scenes did not make it. as you can see, it's not so much focused on the smut and i honestly don't know if anyone will see this or if this part two this is good enough.

i teared up writing this T_T burning blue - mariah the scientist

tagging: @asaheyow @n4mh0pe @sunghoonsarmpit

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yan-randomfandom · 3 days ago

Note

umm hi! wanted to ask if is ok yandere rumi with gn!reader or yandere rumi and yandere jinu if it's ok

Yandere!Rumi x GN!Reader

a/n; HOORAY YANDERE!! #iloverumi thank u anon😙 | warning; dependency

— 💜

You found out about her patterns by accident.

And at the time, instead of feeling fear and panic as she should be, all Rumi could feel was relief. Relief that it wasn't one of the girls. Relief that it was a complete stranger. Relief that someone else knew about it.

When you asked, Rumi explained it was tattoos in frantic desperation. But you knew.

"Those are demon patterns," you say with confidence. You meet the singer's eyes warily, being careful in your expression.

Something crazed lights up in Rumi's face. "How did you—"

"I learn about myths and legends in my free time. But..." you pause, glancing over her patterns again, "I've never heard of a human-demon before. Unless, you aren't human...?"

Rumi breaths. The kind of breathing that made you believe she's relieving through something. "I— I am."

— 🪻

It's become a habit for you and her to meet up every now and then. She'd ask you what you know about the demons, the Honmoon, Gwi-Ma, and she'd tell you her experience about being a hunter. (You asked for anything fan-related things too, of course. Picture, autograph — it's awesome!)

How curious that demons truly do exist.

You didn't expect her to want to meet you so often. First of all, she's a famous idol. You're a casual fan of Huntrix, but you already know how hard they work for their art. Second, she's a hunter! The legendary three-part harmony protectors of the Honmoon!

A sigh escapes you. You can't imagine bearing all that responsibility — let alone being a demon herself.

Rumi likes to text you a lot, always planning the next hangout. You'd think that she would have to keep changing schedules, but on the contrary, it seems like it's you who always has conflicting schedules.

— 🎶

"The Saja Boys are demons," she says one day, suddenly, her face falling heavy. "Avoid them, okay? The girls and I will fix it as soon as we can."

You stare at her in awe, your eyes narrowing in curiosity. "Demon boy band? Of course..."

She places her hand on your shoulder. You give her a smile, gently brushing your hand against her patterns.

"Don't worry, Rumi," you nod. "I'll help too, in my own way. Thanks for telling me."

"Thank you," Rumi parrots, meeting your eyes. "But you don't have to do anything. Let me handle all of it. Just stay safe."

— ❤️‍🔥

"Don't leave. Don't leave!"

Just like that.

Rumi's patterns were revealed to the whole world. Her own friends raised their weapons against her. Jinu yelled at her, brushed her off, denying everything she believed in him. Celine, to this day, this disaster—

She will never be accepted, will she? Everyone turned against her—confused on who she is, disgusted on what she is, afraid of her.

"Rumi!"

You call, tears blurring your vision as you firmly grip her shoulders. "Please. Your patterns don't make you who you are. I—"

Rumi watches as you let go of your hold on her, turning instead to clutch your aching head. She watches you tremble, watches you cry as the voices take over your mind.

She watches.

"Rumi," you gasp, trying so hard to ignore his voice. "Rumi. Help. Stop, stop it, stop it, stop it! Rumi!"

Rumi watches with quiet satisfaction. You need her. You're not pushing her away—you call her name—despite everything, you tried to comfort her—

A few moments of silence from her, a few moments of sobbing from you. Eventually, she kneels beside you, leveling with your glassy eyes, and offers a weak smile.

"Thank you," she mutters, gently pulling your forehead to her lips. "I'll make it right. I will."

With those final words, Rumi watches as you finally give in to Gwi-Ma's voice and stand to follow him.

She watches as you walk to the stadium.

She trails behind, everything and anything raging through her mind.

— 🔥

"That whole thing felt like a nightmare," you mutter, holding one side of your head.

You look up, seeing Rumi stare at you with a smile. Ever since that doomsday of an event, she's being acting different, somehow. Extra clingy, extra paranoid, extra... happy?

At least she's happy now.

She hasn't been wearing long sleeves, free enough to be wandering with her scars.

You unconsciously place a hand on her cheek, feeling the texture of her skin. She melts instantly into your touch, leaning to chase it closer.

"I'm proud of you," you smile. "Thank you for protecting us."

Rumi blinks her tears away. It's not everyday someone thanks them for doing their duty.

"I'm never abandoning you," she smiles back. "As long as you don't... abandon, me."

— #iloverumi

#yandere kpop demon hunters #yandere kpop demon hunters x reader #yandere kpdh #yandere kpdh x reader #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere rumi x reader #rumi x reader #iloverumi #kpdh x reader #huntrix x reader

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ggukivrse · 2 days ago

Text

THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM | JJK

summary. when you complain to jungkook about your lack of action in the past year, you're not really asking for a solution. but when he casually offers to help, you just can't seem to bring yourself to say no.

after all, what's the worst that could happen in hooking up just this once?

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

warnings: swearing, they actually talk about their feelings :0, explicit sexual content, kissing, making out, hickeys, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (be smarter than them pls), a bit of banter, petnames (baby), they're really fucking cute in the end it makes me sick, let me know if i missed anything!

notes: idk if this counts as my first completed series buttt... i'm gonna act like it does. thank you so so much to all the love and support you guys have given me for the past two parts, i'm genuinely so beyond grateful for it all :<< hopefully, you guys enjoy this part too!!

ps. READ PART ONE HERE & PART TWO HERE!!

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback

You open his chat window again like it’s muscle memory. Like your thumb don't know how to not betray you.

It’s not even about sending something. You’ve got no intention of doing that. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. But the screen is always open, staring back at you with that last unread message you sent almost a week ago — a throwaway meme you found on your lunch break. No reply. Not even a reaction.

And it hadn’t felt like a big deal in the moment. You sent it like always, light and dumb and nothing. But then the nothing kept going. No little gray typing bubble. No 'lol.' No double text. No late night 'you up?' Just this wall of silence.

You would’ve rather gotten a dry reply. Hell, even a thumbs up. Anything to prove that he saw you.

But now it’s been long enough that sending something new would feel desperate. Like you’re chasing him. Like you’re asking for something you’re not even supposed to want.

You lock your phone and throw it face down on your bed.

Then pick it back up five seconds later.

Then toss it again, harder, as if that’ll prove something.

You wish you were mad. You think you are mad — at least a little. But it’s a tangled kind of anger. One that knots itself up with embarrassment and sharp, bitter shame. You want to scream at him, yeah. But also at yourself.

Why did you let this happen?

Why did you let him blur the lines and kiss you like that and touch you like he meant it?

You were supposed to be smarter than this.

You lie back across your bed with one arm flung over your eyes. It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid. It was just sex. Just two nights. Two insanely good, dangerously close, way-too-connected nights. But still — technically just sex.

Except it wasn’t.

Not when he remembered your favourite sauce order without asking. Not when he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear while you ranted about work.

And especially not when he went cold the second things felt too good.

That’s what keeps twisting the knife. That shift in him. Like someone flipped a switch and rewrote the script. One minute, he was holding you like you mattered. The next, you were stepping out of his bathroom and into a stranger’s apartment.

You haven’t heard his voice since.

You bite the inside of your cheek and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push down that lump of feeling before it rises too high.

It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re overthinking it.

Maybe he’s just going through something. Maybe he didn’t mean to shut you out. Maybe he thought you didn’t want to hear from him. Or maybe he’s just a fucking coward who got scared when the stakes changed.

But then, why didn’t you reach out?

Why didn’t you ask if he was okay, or tell him he was being weird, or demand an explanation like you’re owed one?

Because you’re afraid.

Because you don’t want the truth if the truth is that he regrets all of it.

Because deep down, you know this isn’t just a friendship anymore, and pretending it is would break you worse than silence.

Your phone buzzes once on the comforter beside you.

You freeze. Then sit up fast, breath catching halfway in your throat.

Your eyes are already scanning the screen before your brain can fully catch up.

Kook 🍜: hi

One word. Just hi. Like the last seven days didn’t happen. Like your stomach hasn’t been in knots trying to make sense of his silence. Like he didn’t vanish without warning after folding you into his sheets and leaving you to figure out what the hell it meant.

Your breath leaves you in one uneven exhale.

You blink at the message, your body locked in this strange stillness. Your thumb hovers, frozen. Part of you is tempted to stare at it until it disappears. Ignore it. Let him feel what it’s like to be the one left hanging. But your hands betray you again — just like they always do with him.

You: Radio silence for a week and all I get is a fucking hi? Wtf Jungkook

It’s not even what you really want to say, but it’s the closest thing you can manage that doesn’t sound like I missed you so much it made me sick or please don’t do this again.

Three dots appear.

Your heart squeezes like it’s caught in someone’s fist. And then the dots vanish.

Then come back.

Then vanish again.

You mutter, “Fucking say something,” to no one. It comes out too small, too desperate. You shut your eyes tight for a second like you can wring the feeling out of yourself by force.

A minute or so passes before his reply finally sends.

Kook 🍜: sorry. can i talk to you today?

You reread it so many times the text starts to lose meaning. Can I talk to you today?

You feel sick.

There’s no way you don’t know what this is. The phrasing. The tone. He wants to talk? What the fuck else could that mean, if not that he’s about to cut things off? That he’s going to hand you some polite little speech about how you’re great, but this can’t happen again. That he wants to stay friends and he doesn’t want to confuse things any more than he already has.

Or worse — he thinks you guys are better off cutting contact all together.

You bite down hard on your thumb, suddenly on the verge of tears and furious at yourself for it. You should’ve never let it get here. You should’ve drawn the line before the second time. Before the car. Before the party.

You should’ve been more careful with your heart.

But you’re here now. So far past the line you can’t even see it anymore.

You open your keyboard, then close it again. You want to ask what he wants to talk about. You want to demand answers over text so you don’t have to see his face when he says the words. But you know you won’t get anything that way.

You: Where?

Kook 🍜: i can come to yours

You sit there for a second, just breathing. You feel like you’re bracing for a crash that’s already midair.

You: What time?

Kook 🍜: i can be there in an hour?

You don’t answer. Not right away. You’re too busy staring at your reflection in the dark screen, wondering why your face looks so calm when your body feels like it’s trying to collapse in on itself.

You: Okay

You put the phone down carefully, like it might go off again, or explode, and turn your gaze to the ceiling. Every minute after this is going to stretch like it’s mocking you.

You don’t know if you’re getting closure or clarity. You don’t even know which one would hurt more.

But you know you won't cancel.

Because if this is going to end — if he’s going to say it — it has to be to your face. You need to see it.

You need to know for sure.

Jungkook is fucked.

Like, actually, cosmically, irreversibly fucked.

He stares at the elevator doors like they’re the gates to hell, and his own reflection in the brushed metal does him no favours. He looks tense. Jaw tight, shoulders hunched up high like he’s trying to fold himself into a more manageable version. Someone chill. Someone who isn’t about to shit himself over the thought of seeing you.

He rolls his shoulders back, shakes out his hands. Useless. He’s already sweating through his hoodie.

Every nerve in his body feels like it’s tuned an octave too high. Like if someone so much as breathes in his direction right now, he’ll either snap or confess something humiliating.

He wipes his palms on his jeans again. That’s the fourth time since the lobby.

The worst part is, he knows how he got here. He knows exactly when it happened, too — the moment the line moved.

It was your laugh. The tired kind, all cracked at the edges after that hellish Friday you had. You were curled up in his passenger seat, half out of it, feet tucked under you, and you’d looked over at him with that soft, worn-down smile.

And it just… hit him.

The weight of it. Of you.

He wanted to reach over and touch your face. Not to tease. Not to start something. Just to feel your skin under his fingers like it was allowed now.

And the second that thought formed — clear and blinding and way too tender — it was over. Game fucking over.

Because it wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

You’re his best friend. Have been for years. He knows how you take your coffee, how you organise your playlists by mood, how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you're anxious. You’re not just some girl he hooked up with at a party. You’re you.

And now, he’s standing in an elevator on the way to your apartment, trying not to think about how badly he messed it all up.

He hadn’t meant to ghost you. Not really. It was just — after that night, after the way you looked at him, all warm and trusting — he panicked. Full-body, brain-scrambling, total system failure. He couldn’t even look at you without feeling like he was seconds from saying something stupid like "Don’t sleep with anyone else, please," or "I think I’m in love with you."

So instead, he shut down. Did the one thing he always swore he wouldn’t do with you — he pulled away. Got weird. Avoided it. Avoided you.

And now you’re pissed.

Rightfully so.

He deserved that text you sent. Probably worse. You could’ve ignored him completely and he wouldn’t have blamed you. But you didn’t. You texted back and he’s clinging onto that like a lifeline. Because it means there’s still time. Still a chance to fix it — if he doesn’t blow it again.

He presses the heel of his hand to his chest like that might steady the erratic rhythm of his heart.

What the fuck is he even going to say?

Sorry for being an emotionally constipated idiot?

Sorry I ghosted you because I realised I’m in love with you and it short-circuited my whole fucking personality?

Sorry I thought I could fuck you and still keep pretending like you don’t mean more to me than anyone else?

The elevator dings.

Jungkook flinches like it slapped him, then scrubs a hand through his hair, lets out a tight breath, and steps through the doors before he can change his mind.

He’s here.

Fuck. He’s actually here.

Jungkook looks like he didn’t sleep last night. Hair messy, clothes a little wrinkled, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second before they dart away again. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jacket like he’s afraid of what they’ll do if left unsupervised.

You tell yourself not to feel relieved. Not to let it show. He didn’t cancel. He showed up. That shouldn’t mean as much as it does. It really, really shouldn’t.

But still — there’s something in your chest that unclenches when you see him standing there, real and present. Even if he does look like he’s about to apologise for burning down your house or something.

“Hey,” he says, voice quiet.

You step back from the door to let him in. Dry. Wordless. The move is automatic, but your body feels stiff with it, like your own muscles are annoyed on your behalf.

He hesitates before stepping inside, like he thinks the floor might swallow him up. You don't offer a smile. Don't even look at him once the door’s closed behind him.

You cross your arms and lean back against the edge of the kitchen counter, watching him with a blank expression that’s only half-real. The other half is tightly coiled under your skin — anger, sure, but under that, all the feelings you’ve been pretending not to have.

He does a slow, uncertain glance around your apartment like something might’ve changed since the last time he was here. But it hasn’t. It’s still your place. Same plants, same overhead light humming softly, same faint scent of laundry detergent that clings to the air.

He stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s like he doesn’t know where to put his body.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Not around you. Jungkook’s always been comfortable here. The kind of comfortable that leaves shoes by the door without asking. The kind that opens your fridge like he owns a shelf. But right now, he looks like a stranger in someone else’s house.

You let the silence stretch out. You’re waiting for him to just speak, but he doesn’t

He doesn’t even try.

Eventually, your voice cuts through the air, a little too sharp. “Jungkook, you said you wanted to talk.”

His head snaps up like he forgot that was part of the deal. Like the fact that he came here at all already cost him everything he had in reserve.

“Yeah,” he says. His throat moves when he swallows. “I do.”

You raise your eyebrows, waiting.

He opens his mouth like he’s about to start, then closes it again. Shifts his stance. Rubs the back of his neck with one hand. You catch the way his eyes flick to the floor, then back to you, then away again.

You narrow your eyes. “Well?”

He breathes out a weak, almost bitter laugh and runs both hands down his thighs, like he’s physically trying to ground himself. “I don’t know how to do this,” he mutters.

You frown, arms still crossed tight across your chest. “What? Talk?”

You hate being like this towards him — you feel like a bitch. But it’s the only way that you can stop yourself from just spilling all of your thoughts and feelings to him.

“No, I—” He breaks off, jaw flexing. “No. I mean… say the right thing. Say any of it without sounding like an idiot.”

You blink, unimpressed. “So you came here without knowing what you were gonna say.”

He looks at you then. Fully. And for the first time since he walked in, you see the real wreckage behind his eyes. There’s nothing cool or casual about it. He’s unravelling in slow motion. Everything about him is quiet desperation wrapped in someone trying really hard not to fall apart.

“I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t know what I wanted,” he says finally. “And then I figured it out, and that somehow made it worse.”

You stay silent.

He shifts closer, not by much — just a few inches. “I fucked up,” he adds, voice barely above a whisper. “I know I did. I know I disappeared. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. I was just—” he stops, jaw tightening again. “I got scared.”

You scoff under your breath and look away.

“I’m serious,” he says, softer now. “It freaked me out. How fast it happened. How much it changed.”

You look back at him, jaw set. “What changed?”

He swallows again. Stiff. His voice cracks a little when he speaks next.

“You,” he says again. “How I feel about you. That changed.”

Your chest tightens.

You don’t react, not visibly. You keep your face still, unreadable, even though your brain is suddenly scrambling. You’ve been yanked in too many directions this past week. You’re not going to lean into hope just because he finally decided to speak.

So you say nothing. You just hold his gaze and wait.

Jungkook takes a breath, his shoulders rising with it, then falling in a slow, deliberate exhale. The nervousness is still there — but it’s settled into something quieter now.

“I kept trying to tell myself it didn’t mean anything,” he says. “That it was just— whatever. Two friends, getting carried away. We were drunk the first time, right? It was easy to lie to myself about that. Easy to say it didn’t have to go anywhere.”

His voice is calm, but there's tension underneath it.

“But the second time?” He pauses, tongue running along the inside of his cheek, eyes still locked on yours. “That wasn’t drunk. That wasn’t casual. That was me driving us across town just to make you feel better, because I can’t stand it when you’re not okay.”

You flinch — barely — but he sees it. You know he does.

“And then it was me kissing you like I’d lose my mind if I didn’t. You think I didn’t notice how different that felt? I’ve never kissed you like that before. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you.

You’re still standing by the counter, arms crossed, but now your grip has loosened. You hate how much this is getting to you, how badly you want to give in, how your chest aches just hearing him say the things you’d only let yourself think when the lights were off and your phone screen was dark.

Jungkook takes another step toward you.

“When I brought you back to mine that night… when you came out of the shower, and I saw you just standing there in my space, looking at me like I was safe…” His voice catches, but not in a way that makes him crumble — just enough to show the truth of it. “I freaked the fuck out.”

You blink at him, finally speaking. “Yeah. I noticed.”

He huffs out a breath that's almost a laugh, but not quite. “I didn’t mean to shut down. I didn’t even know what I was doing in the moment. I just— everything in me wanted to pull you close, and that’s when I realised I couldn’t keep doing this the way we were doing it. Not without losing my shit every time you left.”

Your throat feels tight, but you still ask, “So you decided to ghost me instead?”

That lands. His jaw flexes, and he nods once. “Yeah. I did. I thought if I gave it space, I could go back to being normal. Go back to just being your friend. But I couldn’t. I can’t.

“I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. Not because of the sex, not because it was good— which it was, but that’s not the point. It’s you. It’s always been you. I didn’t realise how much until I almost lost it completely.”

You swallow hard. Your arms are uncrossed now. Not folded in, not defensive — just hanging at your sides like you’re too stunned to remember what to do with them.

Jungkook steps in closer. Not touching you yet. But near enough that you can smell him — faint cologne, his laundry detergent, the scent you associate with your car windows fogging up.

“I missed you,” he says, and his voice turns softer. “Every day. And it scared the shit out of me, how badly I wanted to talk to you. Touch you. Just be around you. I wasn’t ready to admit it last week, and I was a coward for that. But I’m not running anymore.”

Silence again.

Except it doesn’t feel like the ones you’ve been drowning in for a week.

“I don’t know what you’re feeling,” he says, lower now, like the words might break if he’s too loud. “And I’m not assuming anything. But if you still want me around— really want me— just say the word. I’ll figure out the rest.”

You inhale slowly, try to even out your breathing, but your chest still feels like it’s barely holding together. Your heart’s doing that thing where it thuds too hard without speeding up.

You hate that you believe him. That you always would’ve. That no matter how angry you were, no matter how cold you tried to be when he walked in — you still wanted him to explain, to prove it wasn’t what your worst thoughts told you it was.

And now he has.

He’s standing in front of you with open hands, with the words you oh so desperately wanted to hear. And for a moment, you’re not sure what to do with that.

“I hate you,” you say quietly.

It’s not true. Not even close. But it’s the first thing that leaves your mouth.

Jungkook huffs out a dry laugh, eyes dropping to the floor. “Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. “I figured.”

You shake your head once. “No. I mean it. I fucking hate you for this. For—” You break off, because your voice is shaking now. “For making me feel like I was crazy. For not even saying goodnight after… after everything.”

His face tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“You could’ve just told me,” you go on. “You could’ve said it was too much. That it got weird. That you needed time. Anything. But you disappeared. And I had to sit here wondering if I made it all up."

You pause, pressing your lips together.

“And I— I missed you too, you know,” you add, quieter this time.

His mouth opens like he might speak, but no sound comes out at first. Instead, he closes the space between you by half, slow and steady, like he’s afraid of pushing too far.

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you whisper, but your tone isn't mean. Not even close.

He laughs, soft and low. “Yeah. I know.

“You promise me you’re sure? Cause Jungkook, I will fucking cut off your dick if you pull this shit again.”

He smiles but doesn’t hesitate. “I promise. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You stare at him.

Long enough that the air between you stretches taut, thin as thread.

His hand twitches like he wants to reach for you but still doesn’t know if he’s allowed. His jaw flexes, his chest rising and falling in uneven swells. You can tell he’s waiting — for a sign, for a go-ahead, for you.

And even though part of you still wants to be mad, still wants to make him sweat just a little longer, the rest of you aches. For his mouth. For his hands. For the solid, grounding weight of him.

So you move.

You step into the last inch of space between you and grab the front of his hoodie. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a year, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything.

You kiss him.

Not out of impulse. Not for show. You kiss him because you need to. Because your chest feels like it’s going to split open if you don’t.

At first, it’s quiet. Just lips pressed to lips — careful, slow. There’s a pause between each pass of your mouth over his, like you’re both trying to remember how this started. How you even got here.

But then he sighs against you — not loud, not dramatic, just a sound full of relief — and it unravels something.

His hands lift, hesitating for only half a second before they settle on your waist, fingers curling tight. You press closer, and his lips part beneath yours. The angle shifts. Your nose bumps his cheek. It’s not perfect, but it’s real, and when your tongue brushes his, everything tilts.

The sweetness melts fast.

He makes a sound low in his throat and drags you in like the distance is unbearable. Your hands slide up into his hair, fingers threading through the strands at the base of his neck, and the way he reacts — the little shiver he tries to swallow — sends heat straight down your spine.

You kiss him harder.

His body crowds yours until your back meets the wall. Not rough, not rushed. Just firm. His chest presses to yours, and you can feel the way his heart races. How your own pulse kicks up to match it.

The kiss deepens, turns messy at the edges. His teeth catch your bottom lip and your breath stutters, but you don’t pull back. You tilt your chin, chasing more, and the next time he kisses you, it’s hungrier. One of his hands slips to the small of your back, palm dragging slow and warm beneath your shirt. The skin-to-skin contact makes your whole body twitch.

You gasp into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, his hands tightening. His other arm slips around your waist completely, pulling you flush against him, and suddenly you’re not thinking anymore. You’re just feeling.

The tension that’s been bottling up between you two — the silence, the week of wondering, the ache of missing him so much it hurt — it all floods to the surface.

You fist your hands in his hoodie, yanking him impossibly closer. Your hips shift forward, just enough to brush him, and the sound he makes is sharp and involuntary, caught between a breath and a groan.

“Fuck,” he mutters, barely pulling back. His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged. “You’re driving me insane.”

You huff, lips brushing his. “That’s fair.”

Then he kisses you again. Rougher this time. Desperate in a way that makes your knees go soft.

He doesn’t stay at your mouth for long. His lips trail down — your jaw, your cheek, the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and uneven, and when he finds your neck, your whole body reacts. Your hands clutch at him, your back arches off the wall, and the soft sound that escapes your throat isn’t one you mean to make.

He feels it. Hears it. Answers it with a low, reverent sound that seems to vibrate straight through you.

His tongue traces the spot beneath your ear, slow and deliberate, and your eyes flutter shut.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, your breath catching sharp in your throat. You pull back for a second before lowering your mouth to his neck, right where the collar of his hoodie dips. He lets out a small sound, hands flexing on your waist, when your lips press there.

You start slow. You can feel his pulse under your tongue, the way his chest rises against yours, unsteady and warm. Then you part your lips and suck gently at the spot just below his jaw. His whole body stutters, hips jerking against yours before he can stop it.

Your fingers trail down his chest, tugging his hoodie collar aside for better access. His head tips back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted.

You do it again, this time with enough pressure to leave a mark, and the sound of your mouth working against his skin is lewd.

He groans. It’s low and rough and barely held back, and the sound shoots straight between your legs. You feel him hardening now, undeniable through the fabric where he’s pressed against you.

“All mine?” you whisper, your lips brushing over the new mark you’ve left.

He doesn’t even hesitate. “All yours.”

His voice is breathless. Wrecked. And so damn certain it knocks something loose in your chest.

You pull back just enough to look at him — really look. His pupils are blown, his lips swollen, a flush climbing high on his cheeks. He looks at you like he wants to devour you. Like he would if you let him.

“I missed that mouth,” he mutters, hands gliding under your shirt again, palms broad and warm. “Missed everything.”

You kiss his throat in reply and drag your teeth across it until he swears under his breath.

His hips grind against you again, harder this time. You both feel it — the friction, the heat building between your bodies.

His arms shift beneath you and he lifts you clean off the ground in one smooth motion, hands strong under your thighs. A startled sound escapes your throat as your legs wrap around his waist on instinct, gripping him tight.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “I want you so bad it’s actually stupid.”

You smile, drunk on the feel of him.

“Bedroom?” you murmur, tracing your lips over the new mark blooming against his skin.

He hums lowly, and shifts his grip on your thighs.

He carries you through the hallway and your lips never leave his skin for more than a second.

When he reaches your bedroom, he doesn’t hesitate. He steps inside and drops you onto the mattress in one fluid movement.

You barely get your bearings before he’s crawling over you, slotting his body between your legs, His mouth finds yours again, and you moan into it before you can stop yourself when his knee presses between your legs.

Your hips twitch, grinding down against the pressure, and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your chest as his mouth moves with yours. His hand slips under your shirt again, this time bolder, fingers spanning across your ribs and inching higher until his knuckles brush the curve of your breast.

You gasp softly, and he pulls back just enough to murmur, “Off.”

You sit up just enough to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head in one smooth pull, your hair mussed from the friction. He watches the fabric fall to the floor, then looks at you.

“You’re so fucking pretty," he breathes.

You roll your eyes automatically, even though your face is already burning. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” he says, and his voice drops low. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His lips part and he kisses along your sternum — slow, wet presses of his mouth that trail up and then out, over the swell of one breast, then the other.

You inhale sharply when his mouth grazes the sensitive skin beside your nipple, and his eyes flick up at the sound, pupils blown. He kisses lower, then higher again, murmuring against your skin, “Can’t believe I went a week without this.”

The vibration of his voice right against your skin makes you arch, and he meets you halfway, grinding down slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what you’re chasing and wants to stretch it out just to watch you squirm.

Your hands curl into his shoulders, nails biting down just enough to make him grunt softly into your skin. He rolls his hips again, slow and heavy, and the pressure against your core has your breath catching in your throat.

“Koo,” you whine out.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, lips pink and wet, hair falling into his eyes. He grins, crooked and hot and deeply pleased with himself.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, and his voice is pure sin.

You glare, but your thighs shift open under him anyway.

“Please.”

He hums, satisfied, and starts working his way lower. Every kiss is wet and unhurried. Down your chest, across your stomach. His hands follow, smoothing over your ribs, down to your hips, dragging the waistband of your pants just slightly with them. His thumbs hook in the fabric, pausing right above your pelvis.

He looks up at you, smug and dark-eyed.

“Gonna let me take these off?”

He's so annoying you're gonna kill him. “Do I look like I’m stopping you?”

“No,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss just below your navel, “but I like hearing you say it.”

You huff, fingers threading into his hair again. “Take them off, Kook.”

He eases them down slowly — too slowly — dragging the fabric down your legs while his mouth follows in a path of heat and pressure. He kisses your hipbone, your inner thigh, every patch of skin he uncovers like it’s something sacred. When your panties go next, he makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat — more reverent than smug this time.

You’re already wet, already aching, and from the way his eyes flicker as he takes you in, he fucking knows it.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re soaked. You missed me that much?”

You exhale hard, cheeks hot. “Shut up and do something about it.”

He grins again, slower this time. “Anything you want.”

His hands grip your thighs and spread them further apart, and before you can say another word, his mouth is on you.

The first swipe of his tongue is long, and delibirate. You jerk at the contact, a broken sound slipping from your lips, and he groans like he’s the one falling apart. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you in place, and does it again.

Every movement of his tongue is practiced and precise. He starts slow, almost gentle, licking through your folds with a kind of focus that makes your head spin. Your thighs threaten to close around his head, but he pushes them apart with ease, never breaking rhythm.

Your hands move to the back of his head, gripping tight. His tongue circles your clit once, then again, and the third time he sucks it between his lips. You try to stifle a moan, but it slips from your lips anyway.

He pulls back just enough to speak, breath hot on your skin.

“Keep making those sounds, baby,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “Wanna hear every fucking thing I do to you.”

He movements turn faster, his mouth messy and hot and relentless. You’re already close, the build-up sharp and climbing, and he can feel it. One of his hands slips lower, spreading you open further with his thumb, and his tongue drags in tighter circles.

You’re writhing, panting, toes curling into the sheets. Your fingers tug at his hair, your spine arching off the bed.

“Fuck— Kook—” you gasp, head thrown back.

He groans again, the sound vibrating straight through your pussy. He doubles down, mouth moving faster, and when your hips start to stutter, erratic and desperate, he presses his hand over your stomach, grounding you.

“You’re gonna come for me?” he murmurs against you, mouth slick with you. “Gonna let me taste it?”

You nod frantically, unable to speak, your whole body wound tight and ready to snap.

He presses his mouth against you again, lips sucking against your clit, and the feeling has you squirming with pleasure.

“Kook—” your voice breaks open as you come hard against his mouth.

He moans, but his movements don't stop.

Your body arches helplessly, heels digging into the bed, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other still tangled in his hair as you ride out the wave. You’re gasping, blinking hard, your heart trying to punch through your ribs.

Only when your legs start to tremble uncontrollably does he finally pull back.

His lips are slick and swollen, jaw damp, hair messy from where you’ve been gripping it. And he looks wrecked — eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide, like just being between your thighs has undone something in him.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then drags his lips slowly up your inner thigh, leaving lazy kisses in his wake.

You’re still catching your breath, staring at the ceiling like your soul just left your body, when he plants a final kiss on the inside of your knee and murmurs, “Yeah. I’m never ghosting you again.”

You let out a breathless laugh, too blissed out to be mad. “You better not.”

“After that?” he says, crawling back up your body, slow and unhurried. “I’d be clinically insane.”

He settles over you again, pressing a warm, open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, then another between your breasts, then finally your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, and when he groans against your lips, it sends a fresh jolt of heat straight through you.

His body is flush against yours, his clothed cock thick and heavy where it presses against your thigh. You let your hands trail down his chest slowly to tug at the denim loops of his jeans.

"Want these off," you mumble against his lips.

He smiles and presses one last kiss to your mouth before he leans back onto his knees. His hands go to his belt, and you watch the way his fingers fumble for just a second.

He gets the buckle undone, then the zipper, the sound louder than it should be in your quiet bedroom. You watch as he shucks them down, boxers and all, and your breath catches slightly at the sight of him — flushed and hard and achingly ready.

“Better?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, breath shallow, and he’s already crawling back over you. The heat of him sinks into your skin as his body settles between your thighs, bare now.

Your legs part without hesitation.

His weight, the press of his chest to yours, the familiar scent of him wrapped in something raw and new — it all hits at once, and your whole body shivers.

He’s warm everywhere. The kind of warmth that soaks into your bones and makes you ache for more.

His hands slide along your arms until they find yours where they’re resting above your head. He threads his fingers through yours and presses them gently into the pillow, pinning you there. His eyes search yours, and you feel the first brush of him between your legs, just the tip, teasing the edge of you.

He doesn’t move yet. Just rests there, eyes locked on yours.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice low and thick, like he’s hanging on by a thread.

You don’t answer — not with words. You just tilt your hips up, welcoming him in with nothing but a look.

He pushes in slow — painfully slow — each inch dragging fire across your nerves as your body stretches to take him. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, your fingers clenching around his. When he’s fully buried inside you, he stills completely.

“Fuck,” he breathes, forehead dropping to yours. “You feel… unreal.”

You can’t speak — your body’s too full, too wrecked already — so you kiss him instead. Slow and sweet and a little desperate. Your hips rock up, seeking more.

He groans into your mouth, finally starting to move, and every thrust is so fucking deep. It’s not rushed or frantic. It’s him savouring you, like he wants to remember how this feels with every part of himself.

His hands stay tight around yours, anchoring you both to the bed, to each other.

The rhythm builds, a slow burn that spreads everywhere, and between kisses you catch the way he looks at you — like he’s seeing something he’s afraid to lose. Like there’s something he wants to say but can’t yet.

“You were supposed to beg,” you manage to murmur against his mouth, breathless. “Grovel a little.”

That crooked smile curls against your lips. “My bad, baby,” he murmurs. “You can make me beg next time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He shifts his hips, thrusting deeper, and your breath leaves you in a ragged gasp.

“You promise?”

The challenge in his voice is smug, but his eyes are dark and glassy, his control hanging by a thread. You whimper in response, thighs tightening around his waist, and he dips his head to your throat, dragging his lips along your pulse like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth.

He starts to move with more purpose now, making you feel every second of it. His cock grinds into that spot that makes your vision blur, and your whole body tenses, fingers squeezing his like a lifeline.

The moan you let out is shameless, high and wrecked, when he tilts his hips just right — again and again, like he’s carving his name into your body from the inside.

“Right there?” he murmurs, already knowing. His hand slips between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing you — every reaction, every sound. “God, you’re so fucking wet. You always get like this for me?”

“Koo—” His name slips out broken, a warning and a plea wrapped in one.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, voice ragged, forehead pressed to yours. His thrusts get rougher now, faster, the rhythm losing polish but gaining intensity. “Let me have you, baby. Come again for me.”

The words send a bolt of heat straight to your core, your whole body winding tight. His mouth crashes against yours before you can respond, tongue tangling with yours, greedy and open and honest in all the ways his words still aren’t.

When he pulls back, he’s panting, “You feel like heaven, fuck.”

You can’t even process it — not now, not when his rhythm stutters and his hips slam harder, each thrust jolting a cry from your throat. Your legs are trembling, your grip bruising where it clings to him, and you can feel the knot in your stomach tighening.

“That’s it,” he groans, watching your face like it’s the only thing that matters. “Let go for me. Let me feel you.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, teeth catching on his skin as your orgasm crashes over you. Your body locks up, thighs clenching, and you cry out his name. His hand squeezes yours back, holding you through it.

Your walls grip him tight, and he groans loud against your skin, hips faltering. “Fuck— shit—”

He thrusts once more before spilling into you with a broken sound, voice rasping your name like a prayer.

His whole body shudders as he comes, arms locked tight around you like he needs you to stay exactly where you are — here, under him, around him, real. His forehead drops to your shoulder, damp curls brushing your skin as he exhales, long and shaky.

Neither of you move right away. The air between you is thick with heat and breath and a comforting silence.

Eventually though, he shifts just enough to press a kiss to your collarbone. Then another, softer.

His hand slides along your waist, fingertips brushing lazy patterns into your skin. You hum under your breath — not a word, just a sound — and he responds by kissing your shoulder again.

Your legs are still tangled together. His body still half-draped over yours. There’s a mess between your thighs and sweat clinging to your skin, and you should probably say something, anything — but there’s something sweet about the silence now. It’s soft. Unspoken. Peaceful, in a weirdly intimate way.

He shifts again, easing out of you with a quiet groan, and you wince a little at the loss.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, running a hand gently over your thigh like an apology.

“It’s fine,” you breathe, eyes closed, chest still rising and falling too fast.

He doesn’t go far. Just rolls to the side, still close enough that his leg stays pressed against yours, and reaches for the blanket to pull it up over you both. He tugs you into his chest like second nature, burying his nose in your hair, his hand stroking absently up and down your arm.

“You good?” he asks softly, lips brushing your temple.

“Yeah,” you say, quieter now. “You?”

He pauses. Then he nods against your skin. “Yeah. More than.”

You lay there like that for a while, heartbeats evening out. He’s still drawing shapes on your skin — fingertips slow, mindless — and you smile to yourself, warmth blooming low in your stomach.

“So,” you murmur eventually, voice still hoarse. “What now? We high-five and call it a night?”

He huffs a laugh into your hair. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a high-five.”

You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “Cocky.”

“Confident,” he corrects, grinning. “But really—” He shifts a little so he can see your face, one hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “If we’re doing this, I wanna do it right.”

You blink, caught off-guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “Do what right?”

He raises an eyebrow, like it should be obvious. “Us.”

There’s a pause. You look at him, and he looks at you, and it’s terrifying and sweet all at once.

“I really like you,” he says, quieter this time. “And I’m not just saying that because I just got laid.” He cracks a small smile. “Though, to be fair, that was mind-blowing.”

You snort. “So humble.”

“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your nose with his. “I’ll take you out. I’ll plan dumb dates. I’ll be obnoxiously charming and show up with flowers. I’ll be— like— a gentleman, or whatever.”

You give him a look. “You should’ve done all that before you fucked me.”

His grin spreads. “Yeah, well. Guess I got the order wrong. You gonna hold that against me?”

“Maybe,” you say, lips twitching.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, fingers brushing your cheek. “You’ll see. I’ll be so romantic it’ll make you want to punch me.”

“I already want to punch you.”

“And yet,” he says smugly, pulling you closer, “you’re still in my bed.”

“This is my bed, dumbass.”

He pauses. “Okay, fair. But I am naked in it. With you.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face won’t go away. His arm tightens around your waist, and you let yourself relax into it — into him. For once, it doesn’t feel like something to second-guess.

He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

You tuck your face into his neck and sigh. “You better bring the good flowers. Like the ones that don’t die in two days.”

“Oh, so now you’re picky?”

“You said dates and flowers. I’m holding you to it.”

“Noted,” he says, fingers threading into your hair. “I’m gonna be so disgustingly good to you.”

You laugh softly into his skin.

And he just holds you tighter.

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