#But you know. It’s still a rap battle

[paperhatcollection]

For aspiring young trainers, Vinyl City- music capital of the world, offers a unique and harmonious opportunity for people and Pokemon alike. While the city may lack both a League and Championship status for the region, there is no shortage of contests and concerts to dig one's teeth into. While there may not be the opportunities to battle found in other regions across the world, bonds between trainers and their Pokemon shine as brightly in this city as any other, if not more.

You know, despite the pokemon, we don’t actually see NSR’s gameplay loop changing all that much.

We don’t really believe that just because you’re giving these characters a pokemon team that the game would automatically become an rpg, or that everything would now be solved by a pokemon battle. Or anything, really. Mayday and Zuke are musicians, neither of them have any actual interest in straight battling. Sure, they’ll take the NSR artists on in a battle of the bands, but aside from the pokemon now being responsible for some of the attacks you already see in the base game (DJ’s Minior does his sun beam attack for him, Rillaboom aids Yinu’s mother in slamming into the ground, etc), but you never fight them directly. With the exception of Neon J’s team, none of these pokemon have even been trained for battling.

We’d also say most of the fun in picking out pokemon for characters like these is the hows and whys- there’s more to this sort of thing than just picking from a list. Did the trainer want this pokemon, or did they stumble upon it? What stories might the two share? What have they been through together? Eve probably had the most discarded pokemon on this list- not just in terms of being considered, but outright with bits of lore in our head as to the why and written blurbs for their place on the team. Who knows, maybe Eve has more pokemon than this, and this is only her current ‘performance’ team.

Shoutout to PoisonousSugar over on deviantart [LINK], who was responsible for the original trainer card used to make this!

Likewise, we couldn’t make something like this without mentioning this art [LINK] of Neon J with a shiny Dhelmise by Corruptimles. Not only is it some sick art, but the pokemon just fits Neon J to such a T that anytime we see someone give these artists pokemon without giving Neon J this ‘mon, it just looks wrong

Likewise, Espathra works so well for Eve, that if we were only giving all these artists one pokemon each, that would 100% be her partner. Aliendragondreaming recently made pokemon teams for all the nsr artists that inspired us to also take a crack at the idea [LINK]- and though Minior for DJ was something we had already had the idea of before this, their picks for Neon J and Eve each inspired the same Pokemon for those trainers on this list.

And finally, shoutout to the (literally being) pokemon au done by meister-draws [LINK], in which their picks for what Team Sayu would be are so good we just imagine the kids having these pokemon each. Both ideas they created for the DJ are also really good (if you asked us? DJSS as a Deoxys is really good, with the theming and ego of this man. Plus it adds something to the whole ‘you think you’re so special and above us all, but you’re not stronger/important than anyone else. Minor works really well as a pokemon he has, but not so much one he is, even if it’s stature is as short as he is)

Finally, a written description of the text in this image under the read more just in case:

MAYDAY

Fuecoco

A newcomer to Mayday’s team, inspired by tales from Zukes past and Kul Fyra’s performances. While it’s true Mayday had always wanted a fire type of her own, they are not native to the islands.

Pikachu

Enjoys rocking out during B2J’s performances, and can serve as a handy jumpstart if its trainer doesn’t feel like breaking out the equipment. Also answers to Sparky, Ratman, Hey you, and Pichu.

Trubbish

Optional Pokemon the player can find if they click around the sewers enough times. It must’ve been attracted to the piles of junk a certain someone keeps bringing home. Seems to enjoy the sounds of B2J’s concerts.

Any fan of rock is a friend in her book!

ZUKE

Krookodile

This lazy ‘croke spends most of its days dozing away. However, if it were to run into a certain someone from its trainer's past, Krookodile would become aggravated and protective of its trainer.

Luvdisc

A gift from someone Zuke used to be close with.

Is unsure how Mayday even came across a Fuecoco to begin with.

DJ SUBATOMIC SUPERNOVA

Minior

A rare, enticing find worthy of being his partner Pokemon. While the DJ can easily tell Saturn apart from the other Miniors, fans struggle picking it out from just the shells.

The Club Planetarium is filled with indigo Miniors, though their shells rarely break. It’s a guessing game amongst fans to try and find ‘Saturn’.

YINU + MOTHER

Applin

Currently Yinu’s first and only Pokemon, Applin was obtained fairly recently to remember a loved one by.

Appletun

Despite being a normally calm Pokemon, Appletun has been acting aggressively of late, and refuses to follow orders given by Yinus mother in battle. It has an undeniable soft spot for the family, however, including the Applin belonging to Yinu.

Shaymin

Technically, the Shaymin of Natura is meant to be in the protection of the district's current charter. However, as Shaymin require advanced care, it is being looked after by Yinu’s mom until she’s old enough to properly care for it.

Rillaboom

Has a remarkable knack for keeping rhythm, even amongst its fellow kind. Has been trained by Yinus mother to duet with her should the need arise.

Chesnaught

Extremely protective of the family, is tasked with keeping Yinu safe during Bunk Bed Junctions hijacking.

Tropius

Yinu’s favorite of her mother’s Pokemon, as it always allows her to eat the fruit from its neck.

Appleton will join Yinu’s team one day, alongside Shaymin.

1010

Falinks

Lacking a Brass, each Trooper is instead assigned to a 1010 unit. The two move and fight as one, constantly changing their formation as they battle. It seems both are listening to orders given from offset.

Fans have just as much fun coming up with personalities for each Trooper as they do for the 1010’s themselves.

NEON J

Klinklang

Neon J was given this Pokemon (already fully evolved) when he awoke with a new rank and body.

Aegislash

It wasn’t originally known this sword was even a Pokemon, until it was given to a newly rebuilt Neon J and sprung to life. Neon J feels as though he can relate to it, the Navy feels as though they should check the armory.

Dhelmise

Caught from the wreckage of a ship during his time in the Navy, his go-to battle partner.

Falinks

Although Neon J enters the fray with only the Brass by his side, it quickly calls its Troopers back from the 1010’s limo. It considers Neon J’s orders absolute.

Quaquaval

Although Quaxly was Neon J’s starter Pokemon, its struggle with self confidence led to it being unevolved until after the war. It now only waits for its trainer's command to take the spotlight.

Ludicolo

After failing to catch a Wingull for several hours as a child, Neon J had stumbled upon Lotad entirely by mistake. It is now hard for him to imagine his team without Ludicolo on it.

All of Neon J’s pokemon have been taught how to, and enjoy, dancing with their trainer

EVE 

Smeargle

Her starter, starting out as a young artist. Has been with her the longest, and has picked up quite a strange assortment of moves, even with Sketch’s notorious reputation. 

Espathra

Although Flittles aren’t native to Vinyl City, Eve found the Pokemon injured while searching for inspiration for her art. After aiding it, it has clung to Eve’s side ever since and fiercely defends her.

Mr. Mime

Aids Eve in her performances, is a bit of a diva in its own right.

Furfrou

Everytime this Pokemon has been seen in public, it has had a brand new hairstyle and color job applied. Rumor has it that it was a gift from someone Eve was close to before becoming a Charter.

Malamar

Despite its fearsome reputation, this Pokemon merely enjoys the lights of Vinyl City, and cares deeply for the trainer that raised it. Eve has used it’s ink for her art before.

Milotic

After acquiring Smeargle, Feebas was the first Pokemon Eve encountered and caught on her journey. Eve now considers it fate the two of them met.

Eve has been known to take spa days with her Pokemon in tow.

TATIANA

Chatot

Rarely ever seen without her trusty Chatot, the public is very aware of what is believed to be her sole Pokemon companion. Despite this fact, very little is known about it or how Tatiana acquired it.

Volcarona

It was said that Kul Fyra had a Volcarona that shone so brightly and burned so hot during performances that it rivaled the sun.

Rumor has it that even Kul Fyra lost in a battle to Tatian’s orderly strategies. 

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: Bakugou dies but comes back to life, “comes back wrong” trope, implied fighting, angst

When Bakugou died, you’re not sure how you went on living. Grief had taken over your life, sat you in the passenger side while it cruised off the highway into icy waters. And even then, you couldn’t find the energy to drown.

It’s why there’s a sudden uptick of energy when you’re promised to have him back. Some top scientists contact you months after his death, tell you to hurry down to the headquarters labs, come and rejoice for what you’re about to witness. And you’re horrified, to say the least.

“This isn’t my husband.” Are your first words when you walk in, watch the figure on the other side of the glass examine its own hands. It looks like your husband but—but his hair isn’t the right shade of blond all over. His nose bridge had a slight bump after a scuffle with a villain. He had a scar on his hand but—but it never looked like it was to sew a pinky beside the other fingers.

“Is that really my husband?” You ask next in disbelief, slowly entering the room. Bakugou’s head snaps up, his eyes a little brighter than you remember but—they hold so much emotion. So much memory, so much panic, so much guilt.

“I left you.” He mutters, his voice raspy and ragged, and you wonder if it’ll always be like this now. It makes you cry a little harder than it should, but you only embrace each other. He’s cold and his shoulders don’t hold the same mass and his back doesn’t carry the same scars. There’s one, jagged and rough, running down his back, and you think, you think that’s where they slipped a new spine in.

“Welcome back home.” You tell him, weeks after meeting him again, new and not totally—Katsuki. He’s stiff and he doesn’t immediately take off his boots when he enters, and it worries you. Makes you think if you’ve just let a stranger into your home, one that has stolen your dead husbands face. Makes you wonder if he’ll be as loving as Katsuki once was, or if he’ll become your monster looming over you with the guilt of not being able to rest anymore.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You whisper against his mouth one night, a little while after he’s moved back. You don’t know why you lay under him, why you let him nestle himself inside of you, why you let him hold you against his chest. Katsuki always ran his hands over your cheeks and neck whenever he held you like this, but this…man, only holds himself up with his hands resting beside your head. It’s alien, how he looks at you, how his hips are methodically measured with every thrust, how he kisses you every 8 seconds. You wonder if he’s more robot than Frankenstein monster.

“Why did you come back to me like this?” You ask him one night, barricaded in the bathroom away from him. You can hear his sobs on the other side, his pleading to be let in. He tells you he never wanted to come back if he had to be like this, that he’s sorry, please let him in, he misses the warmth of your skin, he’s never been so cold before, he’s never liked the cold.

“Is this considered cheating?” You ask yourself aloud one night, when Bakugou is forced back to the lab when he becomes too…un-Bakugou. To sleep with a man that is your husband in every way but? Your husband has been dead for a year now, and yet you stroke the chin of the man that tries so hard to be him everyday, but fails so miserably at it every time.

“I’ll come back to you right this time.” Bakugou promises to you when he’s strapped down to leave for the lab and before he’s sedated. But you don’t believe him—you never did. Your husband is dead, and this animated corpse has been nothing but a cheap mockery of everything you’ve lost and something you will never truly get back.

[oneshotgremlin]

Up and Down

Thoughts on how beings generally perceive their world one spatial dimension lower than the dimensionality of the space they inhabit:

In the flatlands, the way people perceive the world around them is through lines, and so visual receptors HAVE to be on the edges of their shapes

Otherwise by all accounts the person would be effectively blind

So Mrs.Red and Mr.Blue have this strange yellow boy

Who appears to be born with no eyes

(It’s directly in his center, but without tests and doctors nobody can see it)

And for all intents and purposes, the boy is blind

He has to feel his way around buildings and people (in his hand a black cane that his parents bought to aid him)

And he doesn’t know what his parents look like, and only knows them by their voice as they guide him

They love him all the same, regardless

(Meanwhile, he stares up at the infinite expanse of the night sky. But the thing about infinity is that it makes where you stand so infinitesimally tiny in comparison, and no matter how far you run side to side the stars do not move an inch for you. And if they’re all someone sees, the only logical conclusion that can be drawn is that where they are is unspeakably, claustrophobically small)

(It doesn’t matter if the kids at school bully him and the adults look at him with pity and disdain that he can’t even see, because don’t they know how SMALL they are? Don’t they know how small EVERYTHING is?)

And so, with years and years and nowhere else to go, Bill reaches UP

(And no-one else has tried before, because why would they? There is no up or down to conceive, only forwards and backwards and left and right.)

It takes unimaginable amounts of energy to punch a rift into a dimension. In a time and space unmeasurably far away, a six fingered man and his five fingered twin would learn that lesson well

In the flatlands, it’s less of an interdimensional portal looming ominously in a metal room and more of a calculation

l is for length. w is for width. h is for height

And like a computer told to divide by zero, everything falls apart

Did you know that when energetic particles that erupt from the stars collide with a sufficiently nitrogen rich atmosphere, it produces the color blue?

Did you know the only reason the flatlanders didn’t drift off into the freezing cold yet boiling hot void of space, despite not having a planet with the volume and mass needed to produce a gravitational field, is their dimension’s lack of third dimensionality?

Like insects pinned underneath glass, yet the glass protected their corpses from falling apart?

They scream. He cries. He laughs. They die.

It’s an old saying: “When gravity falls and earth becomes sky beware the beast with just one eye”

And when little Billy looks away from the stars, looks down to finally see his tiny, minuscule home

For the first and last time, he sees a blue triangle with a hat, and a red triangle with a bow.

[desire-mona]

i hope this is helpful, since its been helpful for me: my whole life flipped around when i realized i was allowed to be wrong about my identity, or for my identity to not fit into a strict box. i lived very happily as a gay man for a long time, and then my partner came out as bigender. i still love her, and i'm still attracted to her-- so i'm not entirely gay, after all, but i still identify with the community and call myself gay as a shorthand. all that to say, labels are ways to find people who share our general experiences. if you think lesbian is an identity you'd be comfortable in, there's absolutely nothing stopping you from trying it out or finding community ❤️ if it makes you feel at home in the moment, then live in that moment and find your fellows.

1) i think i know who this is and i really appreciate the validation i love u

2) im so down with making mistakes abt my identity cuz ive known im queer for the past 8 tears and ive at least pondered being many a letter in the acronym. ive flip flopped identities so many times which is why for the last yearish ive been just sticking with queer, because i KNOW im allowed to be wrong and i know im allowed to not fully know and let things change and etc etc. im not ashamed of any part of my identity nor my journey to figuring it out, thats just what being a human being is! i guess im just frustrated that im not 100% self aware about myself at all times, since i guess i pride myself in my self awareness and i dont like that being questioned, even by myself. idk. shits confusing and its not required to figure out fully since sexuality is something so inherently complicated, but i do wish i could figure it out for the sake of shit being easier. everyone automatically assumes im a lesbian anyway, so it may as well be time to agree w them because i have no real evidence against it beyond "but what if!"

[akkivee]

thinking about this one post i saw that suggested bat’s been taking over other territories this whole time because they started out saying they represent nagoya in drb➕, a city within aichi prefecture, to saying they represent the chubu area in hella awesome banquet which encompasses 8-10 other prefectures in the area lmao

[diamonddaze01]

ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ♡✧

pairing: hong jisoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, friends to lovers | wc: 2.65K summary: Joshua is drunk. You know this because he keeps smiling at you. a/n: this is entirely inspired by ep.1 of nana tour where shua is drunk and is just smiling at everyone like ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ the entire time // i love this boy with my whole heart // flashbacks are in italics!!!

Joshua Hong is drunk; you can tell. 

As the fire starts to slowly die out but the raucous laughter still rings out around the beach, Joshua keeps catching your eye. And it's because he's drunk. It's not the way his nimble fingers have stopped playing intelligible chords on his trusty guitar ("her name is Susan," he had told you the first night you slept over, too drunk to make it home after a rager), nor is it the way his rap battle with Chan had stopped making sense 4 verses ago. No, you can tell Joshua is drunk because every time he looks at you, he smiles. 

It's not his normal smile, warm and reassuring. No, this smile is reserved only for you, you realize. His eyes scrunch into upside down Us and his mouth scrunches up, and he looks like an emoji, and it's possibly the most endearing thing you've ever seen. And that smile, that adorable emoji smile, is how you know two things for sure: First, Joshua Hong is drunk. And second, you're hopelessly, irrevocably in love with your best friend.

The first time Josh smiles at you like that, he's dragging you home after one of Seungcheol's infamous parties (or you're dragging him - honestly, who knows?).

"Your house is too far," he pants, half from exertion, half from laughing too hard at heaven knows what. "You can sleep over at mine, I have extra sh-" his statement is interrupted by a burp, and the two of you dissolve into giggles all over again.

"Ew," you say, wiping tears from your eyes as you tamper down on a giggle threatening to escape you. "Joshua cooties. Jooties!"

He slips his arms through yours and drops a sloppy, drunken kiss into your hair. "Mmmm," he hums.. "Jooties. Yes." And then he smiles at you, and it feels like the world has dropped from under your feet.

It’s not the typical grin you’ve seen him flash countless times—no, this one is different. His eyes crinkle so deeply at the corners, turning into soft crescents, and his mouth curves upward in a way that makes his whole face light up. It’s the kind of smile that’s so sincere and pure, it seems to melt right into you, warm and gentle. His cheeks lift, and there’s a playfulness in his expression that feels intimate, like you’re the only one who gets to see this side of him.

And for the first time in two years, your heart skips a beat. Joshua Hong has never smiled at you like this before, and it’s the first time you wonder if maybe you love him.

The dying fire pops and Soonyoung jostles against you on accident, shaking you from your reverie. Joshua had already been looking at you, and when you meet his eyes, he smiles again, and it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest.

Needing a break from Mingyu's never-ending ad-libs, you nod your head away from the group, and he stumbles his way over, the corners of his mouth still twitching upwards as you lead him to a quiet stretch of the beach.

"Where are we going?" he asks, tripping over the consonants a little.

“Just wanted some fresh air,” you reply, settling on the cool sand. Joshua flops down next to you, the remnants of laughter still bubbling in the air.

The stars twinkle above, a cosmic array that feels almost too magical to be real. Joshua gazes up, his eyes wide and shining. “Do you think… do you think the stars have feelings?” he muses, his tone dreamy and childlike.

This is the part of Shua you love the most, you realize - the boy who always has so much wonder and curiosity about the world. “Like… what do you mean?”

“I mean, they’re up there all the time, shining away. Maybe they feel lonely?” He turns to you, his expression earnest despite his earlier drunken shenanigans. “What if they just want someone to look at them?”

The second time Joshua smiles at you like that is on a summer night, only a few weeks after Seungcheol’s party. You’re both lying on the grass outside your apartment, too tired from the long day at the beach to make it inside.

His leg is casually brushing against yours as he points out constellations.  His hand grazes yours, and you will yourself to be very, VERY still, your heart racing in your chest as you focus on the warmth radiating from him.

“Look!” he suddenly exclaims, pointing to a star twinkling especially bright in the dying summer light. “It’s the happiest star in the galaxy!”

You glance over at him, catching the way his profile is softly lit by the stars and the dim lights from your yard. He looks like a dream. You tear your gaze away, following his finger up into the sky. “Happiest star, huh?” you ask, trying to play along even though all you can think about is the heat from his skin. “Why’s that?”

Joshua turns his head toward you, and when you look back at him, you see that smile again. His eyes crinkle in the most endearing way, like they’re scrunched shut from happiness. His lips curve into a soft, easy smile that stretches across his face—completely unguarded, completely natural. His whole expression radiates warmth and affection, like it’s the kind of smile that could only exist when he’s with you, in this moment.

It’s so genuine, so full of quiet joy, that for a second, you feel like the whole world stops, and it’s just the two of you, lying under the stars.

“Because it knows how special we are,” he whispers, his voice soft and sincere. And for a brief, dangerous moment, you almost lean in and kiss him.

But you quickly look back up at the sky, heart pounding, only to notice that the star seems to be getting closer and closer. “Shua,” you say, laughing nervously, “that’s a PLANE, you idiot.”

You both burst into laughter, your bodies shaking as the absurdity of it takes over. When you finally calm down, you glance back at him, and he’s still smiling that same sweet, irresistible smile, like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. It makes your chest ache, and that’s when you know you love him.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm, Shua?" You keep your eyes fixed on the stars above, afraid that if you look at him again, that smile—the one that makes your heart twist in all the best and worst ways—might undo you completely. One more glance, and you’re not sure if you’ll kiss him, cry, or both.

"Do you think the stars want someone to look at them?" His voice is soft, words slurred just enough to remind you how much he's had to drink. His hand reaches out, fingers lacing with yours. You wonder if he can feel your pulse quicken through the skin of your wrist, but you stay perfectly still, pretending it’s nothing more than another casual touch.

“Maybe,” you whisper, your voice barely loud enough to compete with the sound of the waves. You don’t dare look at him. “Or maybe we just like talking to them because they’re the only ones we can be honest with, you know?”

Joshua hums, a low, thoughtful sound. He tightens his grip on your hand, and for a second, the space between you feels smaller than it ever has before. "Maybe..." His voice trails off, the words slow, like he’s working through the haze of alcohol. "Maybe we should tell the stars a secret."

You swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s something fragile about this moment, something you’re both teetering on the edge of, but neither of you is willing to leap. His hand stays in yours, warm and steady, grounding you even as the uncertainty lingers in the air between you.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the faintest trace of that smile—the one you can’t quite get out of your head - and you tell the stars your secret. 

It’s quiet for a beat. Two. The waves crash against the shore, and you time your breaths to the sound of the tide. 

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you tell the stars?” he murmurs, voice slower now, soft and pliant. It sounds like love, you think. 

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, heart beating louder in your chest as you speak. “That’s a secret.”

Joshua shifts beside you, sand crunching softly under his weight. He doesn’t respond right away, and you can almost hear him smile. "Wanna bet it’s the same secret?"

The teasing edge in his voice catches you off guard. You turn your head, just enough to see the glint in his eyes, the lazy grin spreading across his face. “What are we betting?” you ask, almost breathless.

He leans in slightly, the smell of salt and campfire clinging to him, his voice dropping as he says, “A kiss.”

(For the record, you should have seen this coming. Sweet and doe-like as he can be, Joshua Hong is Yoon Jeonghan’s best friend)

The third time Shua smiles at you like he loves you, it’s a rainy July afternoon and you’re swaddled in blankets in his living room. Love, Actually is queued and forgotten on the TV as you and Josh throw popcorn into each other’s mouths. 

When you miss for the 12th time in a row, Josh looks over at the movie, and then back at you, eyes sparkling with something you can’t quite place. “You know, if we keep watching these cheesy rom-coms, I might just end up believing in love at first sight,” he teases, his voice light.

You snort, nudging him playfully. “Is that so? Careful, or you might fall in love with me.”

He leans back, a grin spreading across his face, and for a moment, you can’t help but admire how carefree he looks. “Who says I’m not already?” 

You launch a pillow at his head to hide how stunned you are. “Shut up, Shua.” The room suddenly feels too hot - he’s too close to you, to the truth. 

Jeonghan picks the perfect time to walk in the door, and the moment is broken. As he and Joshua engage in yet another fight about Jeonghan’s annoying habit of not taking his wet socks off, you steal a breath and try to calm your fluttering heart. When you finally find the courage to look at Joshua again, he’s already smiling at you - soft, sweet, and full of warmth. It terrifies you and exhilarates you, and the world around you fades away. 

Your breath hitches. For a moment, the world feels like it’s tilting, like the stars have drawn closer, hanging low enough to brush against your skin. You swallow, heart pounding, and manage to keep your voice steady. “You’re drunk.”

Joshua just shrugs, the corners of his lips quirking up like this is the funniest thing in the world. “That is a fact,” he says, still looking at you with those half-lidded, adoring eyes. “Want another?”

You glance away, the stars blurring above you, your mind racing. “Sure. Why not?” you murmur, trying to sound nonchalant, even though every nerve in your body feels like it's on fire.

He shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours. His next words fall softly between you, barely above a breath. “I love you. That’s the secret.” His eyes are warm, and for the first time tonight, the drunken haze seems to clear for just a moment. "Now pay up."

For a second, you can’t move. The waves crash softly in the distance, the laughter from the group fading into a low murmur as you process what he just said. The words hang in the air between you, delicate and heavy all at once.

You find your voice, though it comes out more as a whisper. “How did you know?”

He smiles again, softer this time, his thumb brushing your hand gently. “Because you have this one smile… one that you only give me. Like I’m the only person in the world that matters.”

The air feels too thin suddenly, and you blink, your heart racing. “You have the same smile,” you manage to say, your voice breaking just a little, as if the truth has snuck up on you, too.

His grin widens, that familiar warmth spreading across his face like it always does when he’s pleased with himself. "Match made in heaven then," he murmurs. "Now pay up."

For a beat, you just stare at him, your mind blank, the weight of everything settling in slowly. Then, before you can think too much about it, you lean in. Your lips meet his, soft and tentative at first, testing the waters—but the moment he kisses you back, the rest of the world fades away.

Joshua’s hand moves to cradle your cheek, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. He tastes faintly of alcohol, but underneath it, there's something familiar, something that feels like home. The heat from his body mingles with yours, and for a moment, nothing else matters but the way he feels against you.

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, the world seems to settle back into place. The stars above twinkle faintly, and you’re aware of the soft crash of waves in the distance again. But Joshua’s still smiling—smiling in that way that’s reserved only for you.

“Told you it was the same secret,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Shut up, Shua.”

He laughs softly, his voice a warm rumble in the quiet night. “Can’t help it.”

The two of you fall silent again, the world shrinking down to just the two of you, the sound of the waves, and the stars twinkling above. You find yourself staring up at the sky, your hand still in his, as if nothing needs to be said. It feels like the universe is watching, waiting, holding its breath.

After a moment, you break the silence. “You remember that night… when you told me about the happiest star in the galaxy?”

Joshua chuckles beside you. “How could I forget?” He tilts his head back, eyes scanning the sky as if searching for that same star. “I told you it was smiling for us.”

You smile at the memory. “Yeah, and then you said it knew how special we were.”

His thumb brushes over your hand, the gesture gentle, like a reminder of the words you’ve both left unsaid for so long. “I guess I always knew,” he murmurs.

You glance at him, the soft glow of starlight casting his face in shadows, but there’s a light in his eyes, something quiet and real. “Knew what?”

“That we were special,” he says, his voice soft but certain. “You and me.”

Your heart skips a beat, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. You turn back to the sky, feeling the same sense of wonder from that summer night so long ago. The stars are still shining, still twinkling like they’ve been waiting for this moment.

You let out a breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “Think the happiest star is still watching us?”

Joshua smiles, and though you can’t see it fully, you can feel it—the same smile he’s always reserved just for you. “I think it’s still smiling.”

Neither of you says anything after that. The night stretches on, quiet except for the faint sound of the waves lapping at the shore. You lie there side by side, the cool sand beneath you, his hand still loosely holding yours. The sky above feels endless, full of stars that have seen nights like this before.

Somewhere in the distance, the stars twinkle, and Joshua looks over at you and smiles. 

[hannieehaee]

IO CHE NON VIVO (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: being abducted and dragged to italy in the middle of promotions was not something wonwoo could've ever expected, but idol life was very unpredictable after all. what had truly caught him off guard, however, was the girl he met whilst strolling the pretty sights at night, fully unaware of his title as idol or any of his hectic life, offering a breath of fresh air he could've never accounted for.

content: strangers2lovers!wonwoo, idol!wonwoo, meetcute<3, shy!wonwoo, reader is lovely and outgoing!!, no race specified but reader's nationality is italian, language barrier (but reader is said to understand and speak korean so its ok!!), long distance relationship, summer love vibes, love at first sight type of situation, takes place during nana tour but does not follow the actual chronology of real events in the show, afab reader, smut, sex dream(?), dry humping, leg riding, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 18.3k

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 2k (teaser); 18.3k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: october 14th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

masterlist

a/n: this is based off this ask i received a very long time ago that i never got to but ended up inspiring this story<3

masterlist | patreon

Wonwoo should've known.

The moment he saw that uncharacteristically free month in his schedule, he should've known that something was up. Neither Hybe nor Pledis would ever allow for Seventeen to have an entire month clear of any schedules. It'd be an immediate financial failure in their eyes.

As much as Wonwoo enjoyed the rapid life of an idol, he missed the days when he was a teenager and time could stand still for a few moments. It had been a long time since he'd had that luxury.

So when he cross checked his schedule with his groupmates and realized they were all equally free of idol duties for an extended period of time, he couldn't help but feel worried yet relieved. Could be possibly make plans during this free time? Maybe rest? Maybe simply enjoy the quiet and slowness of time as it passed without a worry for what was next?

His questions were answered pretty quickly.

As he rested in his room after a grueling week of back to back concerts in Japan, Wonwoo felt content in knowing that he'd get to head back to Korea and rest for a few days. He only had a few simple album-related shoots for the following days, and once those were done he'd be able to cash in on his free month. The company hadn't mentioned any change of plans, nor had they officially announced the meaning of this gap in schedules, so Wonwoo chose not to question it and simply bask in it.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, life was never that simple.

As per usual, he was not even allowed that a full night of sleep before being bombarded by noise just outside his door. Assuming it was just his hyperactive members meaning to make another attempt at dragging him into their impromptu rap battle, he simply turned to his side whilst nuzzling under the covers, too comfortable to be bothered.

The next disturbance came in the form of one Boo Seungkwan hesitantly opening his door with a key he assumed came from his manager, sneaking into the room as he checked for signs of life.

Not fully awake, Wonwoo continued to ignore the situation, hoping that his lack of reaction for whatever was going on outside would lead his members to realize that he was checked out for the night — something quite usual for him after an extraneous concert.

After a few moments, Wonwoo was able to hear the descent of Seungkwan's steps, meaning he had likely left the room and that Wonwoo could now claim slumber to its fullest extent.

That was until an entire band of people marched into his room, carelessly turning on the light and rushing towards his lone form on the bed. Sitting up sleepily, he attempted to make sense of what was happening, unsure of why this many people had entered his room, and suddenly far too aware of his lack of clothing, pulling his blanket to cover him as much as possible.

Thanks to Boo Seungkwan, his glasses quickly found their way to his face and a shirt was thrown at him to put on while under the covers. It wasn't until then that Wonwoo realized that Na PD was one of the many people currently looking down at him as he laid in bed, camera man next to him.

"What is happening?", he murmured about one minute into the situation, barely awake enough to speak.

"We're getting abducted, be ready," spoke Mingyu with a laugh from the side of the room, looking far too excited and as if he had already been briefed on the situation.

The rest of the details were blurry, but the gist of the situation ended in only one verdict — Seventeen was now headed to Italy.

The free month should've been a dead giveaway, but Wonwoo had simply been far too busy with his usually hectic schedule to even make the connection. It had been a while since the deal to be taken away spontaneously had been made, so the whole thing had left his mind.

Despite his prior desire for some free time, the thought of finally stepping foot in Europe for the first time did bring a smile to his face. Mingyu had always told Wonwoo of his wish to go to Italy someday, which was usually echoed by Wonwoo himself. The chance to go with all his friends made him look forward to it all the more. All he needed was his camera and he'd be a happy man.

One lengthy flight later and Wonwoo found himself in Italy with a band of eleven friends (Seungcheol was sadly left behind) and even more staff members. The gist of the trip was that they'd be recorded simply exploring the beautiful city they'd landed in and playing the occasionally game for content on the show. It had been dubbed Nana Tour, even including personalized shirts for every member.

As per instructions by Na PD, they would get a lot of leisure time to use however they desired. Being a good friend of the group after a few prior meetings, Na PD had assured them that he wanted to grant them as much vacation time as possible whilst in Italy, not wanting to put too much pressure on the content-making aspect of the trip. As long as they were able to record a good six hours of content every week for the duration of their month-long stay, they'd have more than enough for a full successful season of the show.

So now Wonwoo was in Italy, a place he considered to be one of the most beautiful he had seen in his short life. The weather was comfortable, the sights amazing, the food delicious, and not to mention the freedom that came with being out and about on his own, worry-free of his responsibilities as an idol.

Surely he'd get recognized by Italian carats sooner or later, but within the few days he'd been here, always opting to go on a quiet outing at night, he had not been spotted as of yet. Maybe it was the fact he was so far from home and his location was unaccounted for by the media, or perhaps the nighttime making it difficult to recognize him, but he was currently experiencing an incognito lifestyle he had long bid adieu to.

Tonight, similarly to the previous three nights, he made the rounds in the small home Na PD'd staff had rented for Seventeen and excused himself for a nightly outing. At this hour, all activities expected for them had been wrapped up, giving them full freedom to spend their leisure time as they wished. Some other members opted to stay home, having already enjoyed outings during the day, whilst others went out in groups. Wonwoo was alone in the fact that he craved alone time at this hour, preferring to head out with no company other than his camera.

Camera in hand, Wonwoo made his way outside, always heading in a different direction than the previous night, seeing where fate would take him and taking pictures of any pretty sight on the way.

The night was chilly, illuminated by the yellow streetlights that had a tendency of brightening up the city as dawn fell. Maybe it was the change of scenery, but Wonwoo found himself in love with the atmosphere of the nightfall in Italy. Every sight was one to behold. It hadn't taken long for his love for photography to invade his every free moment in the beautiful city. Pictures overflowed his camera roll, all satisfying his artistic eye.

His nightly stroll lasted a good half an hour before he found himself near a shore, looking to the distance and finding nothing close enough to the end of the sea. It was too dark to tell what might be beyond, but the sight was still one Wonwoo quickly became hypnotized by. Surprisingly, the area was quite lonesome, with most people choosing to hang by the brighter areas nearby, housing themselves in restaurants or small shops that opened late into the night. He found himself alone with the ocean and a lone street light providing him with that yellow hue he came to find comfort in.

The comfortable loneliness did not last Wonwoo too long. A sudden presence practically materialized a few feet from him a few moments later, or maybe he'd just been too drawn by the sight to notice anyone approaching prior. He meekly turned his face to the side, unable to help wondering who was his new silent companion. Upon taking a cautious look, he found the silhouette of a girl. Wanting to avoid making her uncomfortable or being too obvious, Wonwoo looked forward almost immediately, now eyeing the view once more.

They stood like that, in comfortable silence, for a few long minutes. No words were exchanged despite the mutual knowledge of the other's presence, simply sharing a moment of solace together. It was unlike any other interaction he'd ever had with a stranger — or lack thereof, really.

He felt comfortable, uninterrupted in his peace despite the presence of a stranger. Wonwoo had never been good at strangers, specially not in foreign countries. He usually found himself being anxious and far too quiet for comfort, never one to pick up casual conversation even in his native language, much less in one he felt no confidence in. His on-stage persona was very different than that of his actual one. Carats were quite correct in assigning the black cat stereotype — quiet, untrusting, keeping to himself.

The silence halted with the sudden stutter of a camera, taking Wonwoo out of the trance he'd been in as he stared out to the water, making him turn to the left in a combination of fear and curiosity. His instant assumption had been that whoever the faceless girl was, she must've taken a picture of him, having recognized him. But as he turned to the side, he found her in a rather awkward position, crouched down and camera facing the sea as she found the best angle possible for her shot.

He chuckled breathlessly to himself, a bit embarrassed that he'd made such an assumption of an unsuspecting stranger who likely had no idea who he was. Where did that big head come from, Wonwoo?, he thought to himself. This girl knows nothing of who you are, most people here seem to be the same, he should be happy.

It was then that he finally made sense of your appearance, as you crouched towards the edge of the shore and gave him a better look of you under the streetlight nearby. He couldn't see your face very well as you continued to face away from him, but he had a good enough view to catch the slope of your nose, the color of your hair, the shape of your body, all distinctive features he could appreciate under the melancholic lighting.

Wonwoo wasn't really one to care much for appearances. Beautiful people came in all forms, but he was one to truly find beauty in a person through other means, usually enjoying the physical aspects of a person's being only after getting to know the emotional ones. There seemed to be some exceptions to the rule, however, as Wonwoo came to find when you got up to your full height, making your way back to your original spot but incidentally locking eyes with him as he eyed you curiously. Your eyes drew him in immediately, finding you beautiful upon a single look.

As embarrassed as he was at getting caught staring at you, his mind was eased when you offered a friendly smile, taking his smile in return as a welcome to stand closer than you'd been before. Wordlessly, you made your way to his side, eyeing the small disposable camera he had hanging from his neck.

...

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[muntitled]

Broken Telephones

Ex!Jake x Fem!Reader | Jay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite Jay priding himself on being a good friend, he's done denying himself what belongs to him.

Warnings: Language, Obsession, Jealousy, toxicity, Ex Boyfriend's Best Friend to Lovers, Smut +18 (mdni), Squirting, Manhandling Ownership kink, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionist Kink, Dubious Consent, Angry Sex, Threats, Dom/Sub Themes, Hard Dom!Jay

Based on this request by @penny44224 . This gets really toxic, sorry, also I couldn't leave my baby Jake out of this, hope you like it <3

“What kind of party is this anyway?” You grumble from the passenger seat, your heart sinking behind the glittery confines of your tight collared shirt. Something so tight and so painfully provocative would never have come out of your own closet. You had Jake and his obscene budget to thank for that.

“The normal kind,” he says, “with drinking and sex and smoke-” before he's allowed to continue his blissful rambling, you interrupt Jake with a raise of your hand.

“Need I remind you that I have asthma?” With a firm hand on the steering wheel, Jake's eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I can't go.” You continue, “That's a health risk.”

“You haven't had an asthma attack since you were 6,” he deadpans, “Do not piss me off,”

It was difficult to do much of anything with a pounding heart and a stomach flooded with molten anxiety. What do people do at parties anyway? You've watched enough low budget teen Netflix dramas to know… nothing good.

"I don't think you understand the words leaving my mouth," The dwindling daylight leaves your bones rattling with anxiety. You were supposed to be watching the sun setting over the river skyline from your dorm room. Your notes on autocracy in a Constitutional Monarchy, pending across the page in front of you, ready for submission Monday morning.

Instead, you find yourself arrested in a leather seat, in a shameless chequered miniskirt. Your exposed thighs are sticky with evening humidity. This is not how your evening was supposed to go.

"I need to be studying-"

You're battling fiercely with a Mr Morale tune oozing through the Jeep's speakers while your best friend remains blissfully unaware, rapping along as if your concerns were null and void.

Kendrick's voice was strong but yours was stronger. "Since I am an unwilling participant, this is technically kidnapping. You are illegally kidnapping me this very second. You are aware of that, yes?"

"Nonsense,” Jake chuckles, “I can't kidnap my ex girlfriend-” before you're able to rebut he quickly adds, “And I am aware that you're going to wake up one day realising your stupid ass wasted your college years studying." Jake shoots back while the chorus sails on without him. This was serious business if he took the time to ignore Kendrick's second verse. "I'm aware that in all our time in school you've done nothing but school. I'm also aware that I'm saving you from a life of complete and utter regret.” His big brown eyes narrow in the dark, and you are corralled into a shameful silence.

“Just don't try to sleep with me tonight-” you grumble under your breath.

“I'm a changed man,” he says, “I've only thought about fucking you only once this whole evening!”

“Oh god…” you shake your head slowly as the jeep assumes a safer speed in a residential enclosure. “These are rich people's palm trees, why am I seeing rich people's palm trees?"

"Because I got invited to an event that classifies the attendance of rich-people-palm-trees." His stoney visage cracks into a lazy, triumphant smirk.

“Rugby team.” Is all he says.

Your hand flies to the door handle, for what purpose specifically, remains an utter mystery. The car is still in motion so you did not have the intention of flinging the door open and hurling your body onto the biting tar underneath.

"Stop being so goddamn anxious all the time-”

“Jake, I don't even like Rugby-”

“No but you like me… and I like rugby… ergo…,” the car slows to a nauseating stop in the middle of a packed driveway.

"Let me rephrase that- Jake your friends hate me-"

"If this is about Jay again..."

"He's never liked me!" You huff, "Even when we were dating it's like he had it out for me or something!" Your shoulders are tense and Jake can't help but send a worried glance over. He ventures to lay his one hand on your thigh but stops himself, placing it instead on shoulder to rub out the knots there.

"You're making excuses. Jay hates everyone," he says, “I need you to forget about school for one night.” Jake's pep talk only succeeds in filling the void of your stomach with even more dread. “You think about dead politicians way too much for a 20 year old girl."

And that's how you end up in the backyard of a frat house as the third accessory of Jake and some unnamed girl. He has his arms wrapped around both your necks as he enters the party, like some glorified university replica of Hefner.

You know in this light, you appeared to be one of his girls, but the thought of weathering this party without Jake on standby filled you with unmistakable dread.

It was as if the soles of your feet were melting into the grass with each step you took towards the bonfire, even more so when you saw him already seated at the edge of a log, watching you approach with a smile that eases into an unimpressed frown. Jay's cup is held in mid-air as he watches you plop down beside him.

A single gold chain is tucked away behind a loose button up and suddenly, you wish to burrow into the ground underneath this log, away from the vulnerability of his gaze. You felt naked.

“You're not drinking.” Jongseong observes, glancing away from you and Jake's hand sliding over your hip bone.

“What’s in it?” You ask, eyes drifting over Jay's solo cup.

“Sugar, spice and everything nice,” he whispers back.

Beside you, Jake entertains the rest of his friends, his fingers rubbing unconsciously into your sides.

You don't seem at all impressed.

“What do you want me to say?” He asks with a slight deadpan, “That I put my love and affection into it? You're at frat house. This is probably 90% alcohol-”

“-And 10% mysterious drugs to roofie unsuspecting girls.” You conclude before making an elaborate show of pushing further into Jake's side. Jay doesn't like that one bit.

“If I wanted you to sleep with me,” his lips tickle your ear and you shiver, “I wouldn't need to get you high out of your mind to do it.”

Something in his words sounded vaguely like a promise.

“You'll just fall in line,” Jay said, “Like all the others.”

Before Jay could get another mind numbing word out, you're quickly standing from your post from beside Jake. “Coming here was a mistake. I'm Heading Home,”

Jake's hand tugs at yours as if prompting you to sit back down.

"Not after the game… C'mon, it'll be fun," you let Jake's words anchor you to the floor.

"Actually, Jake," Even under the moonlight you can spot a deep frown setting across his face, "I think I should go home. I've already had way too much to drink,"

"You've had 1 cup, my dear-”

"And a half," you clarify before shaking your head. ‘and your frjend is making me really fucking uncomfortable,’ you choose to leave those unspoken words unspoken.

You play with the string along the seam of your skirt, humming along to the Drake tune oozing out of the unseen speakers.

“Aww, you really don't wanna join our game?” Jay coos, looking up at you with an incriminating smirk as he clutches his heart as if you hurt him deeply.

“I'll pass.”

“Course you will,” he snickers. “Princess can't bear to stay away from her book too long, can she?’ It's that tone, that fucking that has you lowering

“What…” you swallow thickly, “What game?” you find yourself asking with a dignified huff as you plant your butt on the log in Between Jake and Jay once more. Your bones are rattling with unprocessed rage as Jake whispers, “broken telephone,”

He snickers, “just try to be as quiet as possible,- never thought I'd be saying those words to you of all people-” you sit at Jake's arm as the game begins with the first message travelling from Jungwon to Jungwon’s date. Unbeknownst to you, Jay has been zeroed in on your conversation with Jake all evening-his blood simmering at the sound of you and Jake whispering sweet nothings to each other like people who were still very much lovers.

His jaw clenched as he plants his steepled elbow on his knees, his hands hanging lazily in front of him as he tries to focus on playing the game and not the giggles exchanged between you and your supposed ex boyfriend.

Sunoo finally passes the message into Jay's right ear, a very clear and resounding- ‘there is nothing satanic about pineapple on pizza’- Jungwon’s attempt at absolution from an argument they had weeks ago. But instead of carrying this specific message over into your ear, subsequently bringing the game to a victorious end, he stops midway, watching your laugh aimed at the blackened night sky while Jake looks up at you with that expression that was very much not supposed to be reserved for ex's.

Jay decides to throw the game.

“Your turn,” Jay's voice is dripping in monotony, as if he couldn't be bothered to even talk to you, let alone play this game with you.

Your mouth falls open when he slithers his hand to the back of your neck, leading your head to his slightly parted lips until said lips are tickling your ear lobe. Your heart is sinking into the confines of your stomach and for the briefest moment, you fear the world might have stopped spinning as Jongseong carries his next words in your ear. Game be damned.

“First floor. Third door on the left.” His hand is still planted on the back of your neck as he whispers those words at you and you're immediately struck with the severity in his tone.

You weren't an idiot.

In fact you'd like to consider yourself quite smart.

You knew that whatever Jay confessed - or rather implied - was definitely not the contents of Jungwon’s intended message. A broken telephone indeed.

Still, coiling in your stomach is a confusing web of wired tension that needs to be snapped. All night, your banter with Jongseong had been laced with something far more frustrating, something you needed to get out of your system.

“U-Um I need to go to the bathroom-” you don't know why you're following his orders. You don't know why you're walking steadily towards what you know very well was probably Jongseong's room in the frat house- a lamb to the proverbial slaughter. All you know is that your heart speeds up just a little quicker when you hear him excusing himself from the group right behind you with; “I'm going for a smoke.”

Your mind is hazy with not only fear, but insane unmistakable lust as you make your way up the stairs, surfing between bodies as you make it onto the first floor landing. You can feel Jongseong's oppressive presence behind you. You can feel how anxious he is to get you alone.

And when you enter his room, there is almost no time to regret following orders because he has you pinned against the closed door. The sound of the party is muffled outside but all you're concerned with is Jongseong's palm cradling your throat, his hooded eyes holding something so incredibly angry within.

“What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget him?” His voice cracks as he mumbles drunkenly. You'd never seen someone as put together as Jay, appear so wayward, so driven by inhibitions.

His palm slithers tighter around your neck, too late for your brain to process that you need his hands off.

“You've been taunting me the whole night.”

“Jongseong, I don't know what-”

Your words bleed into a yelp as he pulls you in by the neck to connect your lips in a steering and sloppy kiss.

Once he gets even a tiny taste, all inhibitions are thrown out the window. Jongseong's cock hardens in his pants and he's utterly delicious with lust.

“You're such a slut, you know that?” He mumbles drunkenly, words meshing together, “Might as well have walked in with his fucking collar around your throat like he owned you-��

“Jongseong-” a gasp cracks your throat when Jay forces his hand underneath your skirt, immediately cupping your sex until you are arching your back against the door.

“Oh- fuck- Jongseong-”

A snicker slips from his alcohol stained lips as Jongseong drags you from the door to his window, overlooking the backyard.

“You want him to see what a slut you are for me?” Your tits press against the glass as Jongseong looms behind you, sliding your panties to the side before dipping his fingers into your soaked folds.

“I didn't-”

What you wanted to say before the weight of chasing your own lust overpowered your senses, is that you didn't know just how deep Jongseong's infatuation ran. You didn't even know he likes you.

“All he needs to do is turn around and look up, and he'll see you fucking yourself on my hand-” Jay's other hand reaches over to pull down your top, putting your breasts on absolute display. You're moaning wantonly into the air as you push yourself back into Jay's hand fucking into you and you feel like crying real tears.

“You're fucking soaked. Is that for me or for him?”

“Jongseong I'm gonna-” you're squirting all over his hand, your ass pressed against his front before the rest of the words could even leave your lips. Jongseong is utterly mystified by the sight of you arching backwards against him, body writhing as you come undone right there by his window.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks again, he's utterly pained. “You're gonna do that again, but on my cock this time-”

“Jongseong-” you barely made it a whisper before he's flinging you onto his bed. The springs creek underneath your back as he pulls you by the hips to the edge, manhandling you as if you were nothing but property.

“I saw you first, you know that, right?” Jay mumbles to himself as he drags his pants down to pull his aching cock out. “I saw you first and Jake-” he spits on his hand, jerking his cock above you, “That fucker knew I wanted you first but he hit on you anyway-” Before he can continue in anger, a low groan leaves his throat. “Fuck baby, open your legs just like that-” they snap open on command, you're not sure you're able to deny him anything in this state. And what a state it is: braids hanging around you like a halo, your shirt, a mess with your tits hanging out, all while Jay swipes your panties away to make way for his cock already leaking precum. It's like he didn't have time at all to undress you. He needed to be inside you so fucking badly.

“I'm gonna cum inside, I hope you know-” Jay's eyes roll back into his head as he eases his cock in, one hand pressed on the bed at the side of your head as he hovers over you, “You're squeezing my cock, for fuck's sake-” he ruts into you, creating a burst of friction that has your stomach coiling again-”

“Jongseong- baby-”

“Fucking Christ, don't call me that or I'm gonna cum-” he's soon fucking into you with the urgency and frustration that has been building since you and Jake announced your relationship.

It inked his veins and seeped into his habits, whereby he'd crane his neck back in every econ class, just to get a look at you in 10 minute intervals. He loved you and you just refused to see it.

Having you underneath him now, tits bouncing while he fucked you on his bed- it was all proving too much for Jongseong and you moan at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you.

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're such a slut-”

He squishes your cheeks together, in a vaguely condescending display of power and kisses your forehead before muttering, “Tell me you're a slut for me and not him.” You clench around his cock at the vaguely animalistic quality in Jay’s voice as he squeezes the base of your throat, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Jongseong-”

“Say ‘I'm Park Jongseong's slut-” say it babe and I'm gonna fucking cum,” you’re already slipping into your orgasm, the pressure in your cunt building into the unmistakable feeling of immense fullness.

You're gushing around his cock as you scream. “Your slut- Fuck! I'm Park Jongseong's slut-”

His nails dig into the skin around your neck and his eyes roll into the back of your neck.

“Oh my fucking god-” your squirt threatens to push his cock out but he fucks you through it, muttering, “My fucking girl,” over and over again to guide you both through the storm.

Once it's all over, you're panting with the weight of your actions hanging heavy between you. He's about to speak but you stop him first. “I didn't know.” You whispered. “If I'd known I would've never been with him. You have to believe that.”

Jongseong collapses beside you, pulling against his chest as his hands pat down your hair, “I believe you.” He says with finality.

[cannibalisticskittles]

The pantry door is ajar rather than fully open today, so Rook raps twice on the doorframe before nudging it open and ducking inside. 

Lucanis is at his desk, charcoal in hand, diligently writing in his notebook. A single candle burns on the desk beside him. Not much of a meltpool around it, or at least, not enough for her to see one from here. He can’t have been at this for long, then. 

Rook glances down at the folded letter in her hand – another plea for action from Jacobus – before she speaks. 

“Lucanis,” she begins, “have you heard anything else from Treviso lately? New information from Teia and Viago?”

“Rook. Came. To visit?”

Ah, it’s Spite’s turn at the wheel. The voice – a little scratchier, a little deeper – leaves no question about that.

But… now that she’s really looking at him, she should have known that already. Spite has more of a hunch to his back when he sits, and his grip on the charcoal is – well, it’s a touch less careful than she would expect from Lucanis. She should’ve noticed as soon as she stepped in. If she wasn’t so preoccupied – but it doesn’t matter. Rook tucks the letter into a pocket. Next moves will have to wait.

“Yes,” she says. “It’s good to see you, Spite. What are you getting up to? Not too much trouble, I hope?”

“Making notes,” he says, and looks back at the notebook. “Documenting. Like he does.”

“Oh?” Rook crosses the room and comes to stand beside him. There’s a few scrawled notes, yes, but more than that…

“You have,” she says peering down at the geometric lines decorating the page, “the remarkable ability to create the straightest freehand lines I’ve ever seen.” Particularly given that he’s piloting the body of a caffeine addict running on two or three hours of sleep a night, if that. That this combination does not result in shaky, quavering writing is a wonder in itself.

“Is that. What makes his hands. Nice?”

“–come again?”

“Before. You said. His hands. Were nice.” Spite looks up from the page now, back at her. 

“Oh,” she says, casting her mind back and attempting to recall when, exactly, he is referring to. “Well. I don’t know that this was quite what I meant.” Really, she’d probably just meant that it would be nice for Lucanis to not wake up with burns covering his palms. 

“Then. What?” 

He leans closer still to her, as if searching for answers in her face. Strange to be under such close scrutiny and yet not feel the need to shy away, but Spite doesn’t mean anything by it. 

“We-e-ell… he’s very precise with his knife – in and out of battle.” She’d thought she had passable kitchen skills before she met Lucanis, but if the others in the Necropolis could know what it was like to dice an onion with even a quarter of his skill, supper would have been a far more joyous occasion. “And he knits, too. So he’s as deft with fine details as he is with, ah, broader movements. Y’know.” She mimics stabbing the air. “And…”

And she imagines he would direct just as much care and fidelity into his motions if his hands were to find themselves cupping her jaw, or on her hips, or–

“Rook does this. Too.”

For one, brief moment, she forgets that it is not her head Spite can see into, and he is not referring to what she was thinking about. So, then, he means – 

She stifles a laugh. Spite does not seem to notice, or if he does, he does not take offense. 

“To a degree,” she agrees. “But I’m afraid I cannot match the dexterousness Lucanis possesses. My knifework suffices because I can send a mass of necrotic energy along with it, but it’s really just a focus to channel magic through. If I were to rely solely on a blade, I’d be hard-pressed to do any real damage, and my movements would be… a fair bit clumsier.”

Unbidden, she remembers those close quarters moments down in the Necropolis, pitted against Baron von Markham. The waving of arms and fluttering of fingers to evoke the image of some grand spell being cast. The look on his poncy face when she dropped this pretence and lunged at him with the snapped off pole that once held one of his precious, territory-claiming banners. The struggle; the scuffle; the ragged breathing as she exerted all her energy to thrust it into his chest and then slash and smash and shatter and crush until she was certain he would never move again. 

And the absolute mess of his remains in that urn… she’s certain that Lucanis has never made such a mess of a contract before. Not like that.

Rook shakes off her reverie. “No,” she concludes, “it isn’t quite the same.”

Spite’s brow furrows. “Are Rook’s hands. Not. Nice? Only Lucanis?”

“Mm, I don’t know that I would go that far. They’re different, that’s all.”

“What makes them. Different?”

“Practice?” she suggests. “Repeating the same motion or skill over and over again builds the ability to do it better the next time. Makes quicker mental pathways – and it can make a physical difference in the musculature of the hands. Or in any part of the body that’s used,” she adds. 

Spite looks down at his hands – at Lucanis’ hands – turning them over, then back. Then, his gaze meets hers once more. 

“Let me. See.”

His words are decisive, but it’s less of a demand than it seems on its face. She could decline easily. Not much he could do about it. But she will oblige. It’s good for Spite to have a safe way to test the constraints of this world, so different from the one he comes from. 

“Certainly.” She holds out both hands and Spite rises with haste, nearly knocking the chair back as he reaches for her. This time, she does not bother to muffle her laugh. “They’re not going to wander off,” she says.

Spite takes first one, then the other, until he is turning both of her hands back and forth, examining them from mere inches away. 

“The musculature is likely to have some distinct divergences, but it can be difficult to see that from the outside,” she says, suppressing the urge to point out the way her palmar interossei muscles engage with the gentle flexion of Spite bending her fingers towards her palm, or how his flexor digitorum superficialis and profundus allow him to take hold of her fingers now. “Far easier to see during an autopsy – which we will, ah, not be doing today.”

Spite makes a noise that is not quite a growl, but which nevertheless conveys no small amount of frustration. 

“You can still learn quite a bit while leaving the skin intact, though,” Rook says. “Look here, at these calluses.”

She tugs until he gets the cue to stop testing the flexibility of her fingers and loosens his grip, then turns both her palms up. 

“Thickened layers of skin that build up in response to repeated friction.” She rubs her right thumb over her index finger. “From writing. Used to be more prominent, but they faded a little after I finished my thesis, and after leaving the Necropolis, well… I haven’t had many opportunities to write more than the occasional letter home.”

Spite pulls the hand in question nearer and, for a moment, just stares and stares, then traces over the spots she’d touched much as she did. He repeats this a few times, light enough that she snorts at the ticklish sensation this elicits. Then, he drops her hand abruptly and stares at Lucanis’ right hand. He probes the index finger inquisitively. 

“The same,” he says. 

“Yes, very similar to mine,” she says. “No surprise there. Lucanis keeps diligent notes now, but… I don’t suppose they gave you – him – access to writing tools down in the Ossuary, did they?”

“No.” There’s an edge to Spite’s voice. A simmering anger that emerges at the mention of the place that bound and trapped the two of them. “Kept logs. In his head. Only.”

“Right,” she nods. “So, not too much time to build up since getting out, but if he keeps up the habit – and if you do, too – those may become a little rougher, in time.”

He pokes at this again for a little while, then turns his attention to the ones at the base of the index finger and just below it, on the palm, then to smaller calluses along the first knuckle of Lucanis’ other fingers. 

Spite looks at her. “These.”

She catches the unspoken question: explain.

“These, I’d wager, come from all that bladework,” she says. 

Spite looks at Lucanis’ hands a moment longer, then at Rook’s, fingers passing over her palms. Then, over Lucanis’ once more.  

“…more here. Than. Rook.”

“Yes!” She beams at Spite. “Very observant. You’re really getting attuned to physical senses.” 

Spite bares his teeth in a facsimile of a grin at her words, the mark of one who is a little unused to making such an expression. She wonders if he has a form that can smile when he’s not possessing Lucanis. She’s never seen a spirit of Spite made manifest before. 

“Been. Practicing!”

“I can tell!”

Space still seems to be oddly difficult for Spite, but up close, sound and smell and touch all seem manageable, particularly in recent days. She’d like to ask him how his ability to perceive taste has been developing, but despite her attempts to offer more suitable methods of testing that, he remains most drawn to things that would make Lucanis sick, if indulged; drawn to the allure of a magical candle more than a pilfered sweet from the catacombs. Best not to bring it up, for now. 

“How. To tell?” Spite asks. 

“That you’ve been practicing?”

“No. Tell. Where. They come from. What makes them.”

“Ah. It can be difficult to know for sure, without outside context, as they can come from using various tools as easily as they can come from weapons – but you can generally tell how frequent the use is based on how numerous and how thick the calluses are.” She flexes her fingers. “So when you compare our hands, you can tell that I don’t handle knives to the same extent that Lucanis does.”

Spite’s gaze, faintly glowing, darts between their hands again, then back to Rook’s face. “What. Else?”

“Well… beyond external appearance and what can be gleaned by observing them at rest, you get the clearest idea of what they can do by… putting them to use – or watching someone else do it. Seeing them in action. How fast they can move, how strong their grip is…”

She laces her fingers together and presses her palms together demonstratively. Demonstrative of what, exactly, is unclear, but she’s not about to summon fire and kick off that whole debate again, so – something simple. A physical touchstone for him to reference. 

Spite does the same, watching her as though to confirm that he’s doing it right, so she nods encouragingly. Spurred on, he spends a long moment just staring at his pressed together hands, turning them about and looking at them from different angles.

“Mmm…”

She’s not actually sure how to interpret that noise. Not overly frustrated, yet not content. Contemplative, perhaps? He continues turning his – Lucanis’ – linked hands together, so she leaves it be. It doesn’t occupy him for terribly long, though. Soon, his eyes return to Rook and he separates his hands – and then reaches for her wrist. Again, she obliges, following until their palms are aligned. 

“You. Try.”

A comparison? Well, why not? She slots her fingers in the spaces between and squeezes lightly. 

Again, he makes a contemplative noise. “Now I go.”

Rook has only a brief moment to bask in the feeling that she is successfully assisting Spite in expanding his understanding of this plane – bonding, even! – before he clenches his fingers with far more pressure than is comfortable. 

“Ah–” She winces, but resists the urge to pull away. “Spite, my friend, you must remember that mortal vessels are fragile things; be gentle.” She squeezes back, a little firmer than she did before but still with markedly less force than he is exerting now. “You see?”

Spite grumbles, but the pressure does ease. “What. Is the point. If not. Testing limits?”

“Learning them, I suppose, if not exactly pushing them.”

“And?”

“And… not much else. I think I’m out of things to show you,” she says, “on this topic, anyhow. If you’d like to really suss out all the things they can do, perhaps you could ask Lucanis to show you some tricks. I’m sure–”

A noise outside the pantry breaks her concentration. Something falling? A log shifting in the fireplace? Or perhaps the dining room doors opening? Not likely to be urgent either way. Still, she makes a note to look into that later before looking back to Spite.

Only it isn’t Spite.

“Rook?”

Softer. Smoother. And unmistakably confused. 

“–Lucanis.”

He’s blinking heavily, as though awakening from a deep sleep – which he is, really. His body may have been active, with Spite at the wheel, but his mind was drifting in dreamland. 

“What are you… what am I…? Rook, what happened?”

Only now does she become aware of their proximity. It hadn’t seemed so strange before – Spite can’t really be expected to have the same understanding of personal boundaries among polite society with so little exposure to the idea, but now she realizes that they’re so close she can feel the warmth radiating off of him – so close she can feel his breath against her skin. Maker, they’re practically nose-to-nose – and they are still holding hands.

It’s a realization he makes a mere fraction of a second after she does, as his eyes take in the room around them, the candle on the desk, her, and then finally dart down to their joined hands between them.

Ah. 

She takes a step backward, chagrined to find that detangling her fingers from his is slightly trickier than she’d anticipated and she does not manage to do it in the swift, smooth motion she was hoping for. It takes only a moment, but that moment seems to stretch out for far too long. 

“Lucanis,” Rook says again. “It’s… good to see you awake again.” That… was not an answer. And she should probably not still be this close to him, even if she has let go. She takes another shuffling step back. “I, ah, came to ask about how things were going in Treviso, but when I got here, Spite was writing, and he had some questions. …about hands.”

“About hands?” Lucanis’ brow furrows slightly. “Again?”

Again?

“Oh, did he already ply you for answers? That… rascal. Ha.” What the hell is she saying? She’s veered too hard into trying to sound nonchalant. Pivot back, now, before she makes this even stranger. 

“He – nevermind.” Lucanis shakes his head. “He didn’t do… anything else?”

“Not as far as I’m aware,” she says. “I mean, I can’t speak to what he was doing before I came in, but… making notes and talking, that’s all I saw him do.”

“Good. Still…” Lucanis glances askance, sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. He looks up at her then, and Maker but he has the most beautiful eyes. No, focus, he’s speaking now. “I am sorry. That he bothered you again.”

“No! No. It’s fine, really, it’s – I know what he’s like and he was only curious, and I… really should have just waited until you were awake and came back then, instead of… intruding.”

At that, Lucanis chuckles. “Rook. You’re not intruding.” The ghost of a smile that graced his lips fades quickly into something markedly more bitter. “If anyone is, it’s him.” There’s no heat in the words, though, just… exhaustion. Another sigh, and Lucanis swipes a hand over his face. “...no. It isn’t his fault, either. I just wish–” 

His words fade into a grumble she can’t quite make out, but… she can imagine how he would’ve finished it. The looming threat of a loss of control – of waking up somewhere else having done Maker knows what – lurking around every corner… well. It can’t feel great.  

“…hey,” she starts, “at least he stayed put, right?”

Now he does smile wryly. “I asked Emmrich to put wards on the room,” he says, “after the last time Spite slipped out.”

“Ah.” That… makes sense, actually. Something about the pantry did feel different lately. She might be losing her touch, to not have recognized it sooner. “Nevermind, then.”

“You should rest easier now, knowing he won’t be able to wander as freely,” Lucanis says. 

His words give her pause.

While many outside Nevarra may call those such as Spite demons, the Mourn Watch takes a more… nuanced stance on such matters. Each spirit is unique, just as each living person is, and while there may be certain dangers or pitfalls associated with some, they must be taken as the individual they are to truly understand them – and, when considered this way, Spite just… isn’t a fearsome figure. There’s the risk of being caught up in a tantrum, she supposed, but she can’t say she’s ever lost sleep over fears of what Spite might do.

But. Lucanis does not share in this conviction. And it seems… uncouth to belabor the point. Again. 

“I suppose that explains why Emmrich hasn't been setting out an extra tea cup lately,” she says instead. “And here I thought it was just because he’d given up winning me over to the tea-loving cause.”

She cannot deny the flicker of satisfaction that sparks when her words make Lucanis’ smile widen. 

He breaks eye contact and looks around the room once more. 

“...at least he did not seem to cause too much havoc, except on my notebook.” Lucanis picks it up and narrows his eyes at the open page. “Mierda, what was he even trying to say here? And here, and…” He flips a page. “On my notes? The messes he leaves me to clean up…”

He sounds, as he ever does, tired. And perhaps her presence is not helpful in that regard. Waking up in strange circumstances likely does not help with that, and she… was the cause of today’s odd awakening. 

“Y’know, I should… probably… leave you to your evening in peace. Let you orient yourself again. …sorry about your notes.”

His mouth opens a half-beat before he speaks, as though he means to say something else but stops himself. “You are not the one that needs to apologize,” is what comes out. 

This… is something for the two of them to sort out; not much she can do to smooth this over. 

As she leaves, she hears faint muttering –

“What is ‘the infinite?’ And what do you mean by a ‘small shade?’ Spite, what–?”

It takes no small amount of effort to keep each step steady and even, but she concentrates on this task and this task alone until she has managed it. 

Only after the dining room door has clicked decisively shut behind her does she allow herself to lace her fingers together and remember the warmth of his skin again. 

Maker’s breath, she’s in trouble. 

[jamminvroomvroom]

relief.

part 2 to stress

ln x fem!reader

hey hi hello here is part 2 to stress - enjoy! she's sexy and soft and i love her. uploading this as a little celebration for lando's p2 today, but this is set at silverstone. in which neither of you are that stressed anymore (sex is good stress relief) warnings: 18+!! minors dni with my writing! smut, fluff, language, inappropriate workplace relationship 1k words

for the split second he’d been on pole, electricity had shot through your body, your heart in your mouth, butterflies exploding violently in your stomach.

the moment passed, and he took second place on the starting grid. you locked eyes across the garage when he returned from the battle. he smirked at you, his expression detailing exactly the sort of night you were in for. you rolled your eyes in response, and at that, he smiled. it met his eyes and you could have died happy.

-

he was in your arms sometime around midnight, creeping through the dimly lit hotel corridors, just like all of the other ones that held thousands of your secrets. it was a game, at this point, to see who could get to who first. you knew that he’d be the one tapping on your door, knuckles rapping softly, as to not alert any unwanted eyes. you’d seen it in his eyes, the way they glowed, burned into you after qualifying. he could not look away, not when you smirked at him like that, and swayed your hips just for him, teasing him from so close, yet so far.

“was wondering when you’d turn up.” you moaned into his mouth, no space between your back and your door that he’d pressed you against, a mess of limbs.

lando took your kiss-slurred words as an opportunity to deepen the fiery kiss, licking into your mouth, a rumble in his throat, animalistic and desperate, dampening your underwear further.

“couldn’t resist. not when you spent the entire afternoon looking at me like that.” he growled, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. your eyes rolled back.

“like what?” you acted innocent, pushing him back, halting the kiss. you walked him backwards, his relentless hands pawing at your sides the entire way to your bed.

“like you wanted me to bend you over the car and fuck you right there in the garage.”

his words sent you silly and his hands spun you around and planted you on the bed.

“god, you make it so hard not to want you.” lando groaned and your eyes shot open, that sentence turning you on more than anything else he could have possibly done.

“lando, i just- please-“ you didn’t know how to respond or what you were asking for, you just needed him all over you.

“i know pretty girl. just let me have you.” he crooned, falling into a trance, eyes darkened yet sparkling still.

you weren’t sure how he’d managed to undress you so effortlessly, his hands working over you like butter. you barely gave your creased mclaren polo a second thought, this time, as it fell into a heap on the floor.

your fingers pulled tight on lando’s curls, chocolate frosting between your fingertips, as he buried his head between your thighs like it was his reward for placing high on the grid. his tongue was everywhere, dipping between your folds and running over your clit, harsh sucks catching you off guard every single time.

“god, fucking hell, lando.” you rambled, mouth wide open, constant whines escaping your lips. you felt him smirk against you, lips wrapping around your clit once more.

you were on the edge, teetering dangerously close to meeting your end when he stopped, the bastard that he was, snaking up your body. you felt every ridge and curve of his body, tanned skin warm and smooth, calloused and firm pressed against you. soon enough, you were face to face, chest to chest, breath mingling and noses brushing.

“you ready for me, sweetheart?” lando teased, grinning down at you like he wanted to swallow you whole.

all you could do was nod furiously, reaching up for him desperately to cradle his face, pulling him in for a messy kiss. your limbs were intertwined as he pushed into you, your back arching further into him, your bodies trying to get even closer as the pleasure burned through your veins. he moaned, loud and into your mouth, teeth clashing.

cold sweat slicked over your hot bodies, his hips hitting yours with every thrust, everything in the room around you blurring into nothing. it didn’t matter to you anymore how wrong this was, how much he pissed you off, the pay off was too good. lando was too good.

your hands went from sliding all over his body, anything to pull him closer, to being pinned above your head, one of his large hands holding your writhing body still, while the other pawed at your thigh that was hooked tight over his hip.

“more.” you begged, eyes fixed on his. he smirked, playful, dipping down towards you to take your nipple into his mouth. he maintained the eye contact the whole time, sucking a hickey into the soft skin of your breast.

you tightened around him, hard, the pleasure knocking you for six. it took lando out of his trance, startling the both of you into the height of your orgasms, his body hurtling into yours as you both melted into the mattress. heavy breathing filled the air, silence falling over the room.

“we can’t keep doing this, you know.” you said, toying with him. you were joking, obviously, the driver far too addictive to give up.

“yeah, this is really unprofessional of you, sweetheart.” lando replied, laughing softly into your ear, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck.

“i think that you need to leave me alone, norris. barging into my hotel room like that.” you swatted his arm playfully.

“don’t think i can.” lando said quietly. your heart sped up, beating dangerously fast.

“don’t tease me.” you tried to sound unbothered, nonchalant. clearly, it didn’t work.

“meant what i said. you make it impossible not to want you.” he echoed his words from earlier, pushing himself up to rest on his forearms, so that he was hovering over you, catching the uncontainable smile on your face that you instantly tried to hide. you didn’t need him to know the effect he had on you.

“at least buy me dinner first, before you profess your undying love for me.”

“what are you doing tomorrow night? after the race?” he raised an eyebrow, testing your mettle.

what was stopping you from giving in to him? you caught sight of your team issued shirt laying disheveled on the floor next to his. these rendezvouses could end you, run you out of motorsport forever. you weighed it up in your mind, risk versus reward, and the reward was, undoubtedly, fucking delicious.

“you, probably.”

-

taglist

some tags aren’t working anymore and have been taken off! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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[pursuitseternal]

F!Durge who is a Great Old One warlock with Astarion: 3. “I want to please you.” Preferably during the graveyard scene with her telling him that

“Please…”

UA Spawn x f!Reader | E | Smut Asks Prompts

CW: public sex, body worship, whimpering vampires

Kinktober Bingo: tittyfuck

A cool summer night… a single white star flower… and freedom.

Sweet, blissful freedom.

He lays on you, knee hooked inside your own, spreading you open so as to grind his hardening length against your sex. This time is different from your other trysts… this time, you look up at Astarion, his pale skin still damp from washing the remnants of Cazador’s bloodspatter from the battle. From the final act of vengeance.

You can hardly believe you’re here, on his grave in the dead of night. You would pinch yourself to make certain this was real, but the weight of his lean frame grinding against your cunt is enough to convince you. You’re here, and so is Astarion.

His body is everywhere, a crush of sinew as he presses you and spreads you into the dirt.

“My love,” you whimper, caged by his strength, his fervor.

“It’s you I want… all of you, every last piece of your heart and soul, your body and blood…” he raps, tongue tangled with yours, hand fisted in your hair. You can feel his hunger, his desperation, and after today, you wish nothing more for him than peace and freedom… and love.

“Astarion,” his name tumbles in a whisper from your lips as they work against his. “Lay back.”

“Why, when I have everything I’ve ever wanted right here?” you can hear his dripping confidence, feel his lips twisting in a conceited grin.

Summoning all your strength, your powers, you grab his shoulders and roll. He grunts, dust flying as your bodies tumble end for end once... twice… until he stops. The irony of where he lays, head of silver curls just brushing his headstone, it makes your heart stop. Those wide, red eyes stare up at you in shock and in awe. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he chuckles, hands now grabbing at your hips, his own resuming that slow grind up into your clothed cunt.

Your pointer finger presses over his cracked lips, dry from the salt of his tears today. “Hush, love,” you soothe, “you know what you want. Now I’ll show you what I want… I want to please you…”

“Excellent,” he growls, voice scratching his throat in rough and husky tones.

“I want… every part of me to please you,” you respond. Your voice is quiet, sweet. The movements of your body are in total control, trying to move with grace against the desperate buck of his hips into you. Your two hands cradle his face, your fingers thread through the damp silver hair at the nape of his neck. “Starting with these lips of mine, the ones that can’t help but whine and whimper when you touch me…” you breathe into his mouth, your warmth invading his chill, heating him as he cools you. Your kiss is gentle, tasting of innocence and affection, just the brush of your warm, fleshy, pursed lips on his.

You feel his breath hitch, the slightest gasp at the contact, as it breaks his streak of hunger with its adoration.

You grind, slow, torturous rolls of your folds over his leathers… and the slightest breath of a whimper from his lips snaps something inside you. You sit up, grab him by those limp ruffles of his collar and yank him upright with you. He snarls at your sudden aggression, lips pulled back to the right to bare his fang.

You trail rough, open mouthed kisses over his chest and stomach, hands tugging that old silk off his torso. Eagerly, he gives you aid, his pale skin pearlescent and luminous in the moonlight. Your breath catches as you slot yourself between his thighs. A creature of darkness, those red, unearthly eyes making your cunt clench with desire and your heart race with natural fear.

And you love it. You crave it. You want to tame the monster and please him until he’s nothing more than a purring pet nestled between your thighs… “My fierce… devoted… vampire,” you murmur, planting kisses down those etched diagonal lines of his hips. “So strong… so hungry… so free…” you continue, nuzzling the throbbing hardness beneath his pants. You can feel it stiffen, sense it twitch as you sniff it, kiss it, suck it barely through the fabric. Your teeth nip through the soft leather, earning you a low growl and a rumbling, “Hells, my love.”

“Does it please you?” You ask, nibbling him as he twitches against your lips through his pants.

“What do you think?” Astarion laughs breathlessly, his hands working to unfasten the straining gap. But, your hands stop him. “Naughty,” you chide him, bringing his fingers to your mouth to suck and nip those too. “You are figuring out what you want… you want me. And I, what I want is to please you. Not let me… allow me… to please you.”

You slink his leathers down just enough for his cock to emerge, hard and pulsing and ridged with those familiar veins that weave perfectly around his length. Barely stopping to wet your lips, you suck him in, the taste of salt and musk, that addictive flavors you know by heart now covers your tongue. “Hells,” he groans, leaning back on the ancient headstone. “You really are lucky I don’t need to breathe or you’d steal my breath, darling,” his silken voice catches in his throat, husky and deepening as you take him into your mouth. You want to feel him on every inch of you, your skin screaming to press against his smooth cool body.

It’s a desperation, a drive to satisfy him and please him as he has never been before. Your hands slip your breasts from the collar of your shirt, the buttons loosening to let them spill out. And all the while you bob your mouth up and down, letting his cockhead brush the back of your throat. His shaft is slick with spit, drenched from your lips.

Perfect.

The warm softness of your breasts cradles his cock as you press them around that slick shaft. Crimson eyes wide, his fang bites his own lip to give a trickle of his own blood down his chin. Gaze devouring the sight of you in his lap, he groans, hips bucking to thrust his cock up into your tits. With every plunge upwards, you suckle the weeping head of his cock. And it takes all your strength, your concentration, to keep your breasts pressing snuggly around him.

His nails dig into the dirt, clawing their way deeper in total… complete… ecstasy. “Love… my love,” he grunts, eyes wild with desperate need, blood trickling down his chin.

“Pleased?” You whisper between sloppy kisses on his cockhead.

“Very,” he snarls in reply, one hand reaches to yank the back of your head, fingers knotted in the small, fragile hairs at your nape. He pulls you forward, crushing your mouth to his. Copper and metal tickles your tongue as you taste his own cut lip. His hands lift the skirt of your gown, lining you up just right, cock pushing and pulsing against your soaked underthings. “Keep pleasing me… please,” he purrs, desperation tasting so sweet on his darting tongue.

You shift over his cock, a single pull of your clothing and she slots right inside your dripping cunt. Then, you ride him with abandon. There is nothing else in the world… no enemies, no threats, no tadpoles. Not even strangers spending late night vigils by their loved one’s graves. At least… you wouldn’t know. Not with the way you are keeping vigil on his grave. He fills you, buried to the hilt as you start to bounce. His nails dig into the crest of your hips, lifting and slamming you back down, matching the thrusts of his hips. He rolls them, matching your downs with upward snaps, thumb wandering into that sweet heated crux of your thighs to catch your clit. You hiss, grabbing his wrists. “I was supposed to please you, my love,” you hiss as he circles your aching, tingling nub faster.

“But making you come, watching you fall apart on my cock… nothing would please me more, darling…” he purrs, that voice no longer velvet as he huffs and growls, rough with his own exertions as he fucks you. Those arms wrap around you as he pulls himself to sit up, your body slamming down with wet squelches as you bounce on his lap. Only now, in this position, he can taste you, kiss you… bite you.

Fangs on your skin, buried in your neck… the ice and heat are nothing compared to the searing drive you have inside you to please him. To make him come undone, to love you and to feel your love in return.

It’s a warm whirlwind of pleasure and pleasing, of desire and disastrous mess as you come on his lap, and he fills you with his seed. As he bites your neck and slurps down your blood between ragged breaths once he’s come inside you.

You catch your breath, damp foreheads pressed together as he grips his hands into your ass. His cock is still hard inside you, warming now with desire and fresh blood. Hips lift slightly, a silent request for you to move more. Move again. And then his lips whisper one word against your own.

“Please.”

[aliesbienish]

A study of wolves

Paul Lahote x Reader

Part two (part one here)

“It’s lovely to meet you all, and thank you for being so welcoming.”

Paul’s mind was racing a hundred miles a minute. Here you were, the supposed perfect woman for him. And he never had wanted this. He had deemed imprinting as an anchor. Another knock to his freedom. Yet even the idea of walking away seemed to make him physically sick.

Paul caught Sam’s questioning gaze and gave a quick shake of his head. He may not be able to walk away but her certainly wasn’t ready to bare his soul to this virtual stranger, however her smile made him feel.

“So [y/n], what’s first for the study,” Emily questioned, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

“The wolf population in the area isn’t well documented, so first thing will be exploring the area and trying to find signs of their territory. From there I can set up motion activated cameras to try to work population and observe behaviours,”

“Oh, we weren’t aware of cameras, how exactly do the work?” Sam almost sounded a little nervous.

“I’ll set them up facing areas that look like frequented wolf paths. They’ll then capture photos and videos whenever they detect significant motion, including during the evening. Obviously they’ll be a lot of other animals or even false shots due to the wind but hopefully we’ll see some gray wolves.”

“Will you let us know where they’ll be set up so we don’t disturb them?”

“Don’t stress too much, they’ll likely be far away from the village so I doubt you’ll come into contact with them. But I can definitely let you know the coordinates, and I’m sure one of you guys will be with me when I set them up otherwise I’ll never find my way back.”

“Coordinates would be great. You mentioned starting heading out of Monday, is that still the case?” Emily questioned.

“Absolutely. Sam agreed to be my guide for the day so all going well no rescue team will be needed,”

“Actually [y/n] I completely forgot that I have other work to do Monday, but Paul here has agreed to be your guide. Isn’t that right Paul?”

You looked up to the man beside you and caught him shaking his head at Sam. Noticing you caught him it was quickly changed to a nod paired with a guilty smile.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Monday came around quickly. Your first two days were spent unpacking your relatively few belongings and exploring the small reservation town. You’d need to head into the nearby town of Forks soon to stock on groceries as the shop on the reservation only held the basics. But for the mean time sandwiches and toast would at least keep you going.

This morning you were woken by your alarm just before sunrise. The air was fresh and getting out of bed was a mental battle, but you couldn’t help feel excited. Today was officially the first day of your adult life. What you had been working on throughout college, even throughout school.

Your backpack was packed full with equipment and layers of clothes. Enough fore mentioned sandwiches for both yourself and Paul were also stuffed in. Maps were also tucked in just in case your phone, and the two battery packs you were also bringing, didn’t hold out. Turns out you had an inner Girl Scout after all.

Your phone ticked over to 7:30am just as there was a rap on the cabin door. Opening it revealed Paul. The man was impressively pulling off the cargo pants and green polo combo; the official but sparingly used uniform of the Quilliete Tribe. Blinking back into focus, the smirk on Paul’s face was a clear indicator that you had been caught.

“Morning,” he laughed. “Here” he thrusted a coffee into your hand. You almost hugged him in appreciation, before remembering the man is practically a stranger. The cabin had been only equipped with the basics, no kettle or coffee machine in sight, another necessity to find in Forks or even further afield.

“My hero! Where did you even get this?” You sighed appreciatively.

“Sue’s cafe. One and only on the Res. It’s hidden behind the school and not on maps so I’m not surprised you haven’t found it yet,”

“Damn, can’t believe I missed it on my walk yesterday, went right passed the school and everything. I thought I was a blood hound when it comes to coffee, how disappointing”

“Calm down Lassie, im sure you were just having an off day. Ready to get this show on the road?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Paul’s truck was a comfortable ride as you headed out of town. You debated taking your car but after it’s cross country marathon you’d declared that it needed a little rest. That and you’d wanted to get used to the gravel roads before you chauffeured around attractive men on them. Plus then you wouldn’t a) get the pleasure of teasing Paul on his lack of manners when you paid for petrol on your work card later and b) see how his muscles flex every time he shifted gear. If the wolves fell through you’d happily spend six months studying the path of his tendons across his biceps.

Your first site wasn’t too far from La Push. An area of cliffs along the ocean was the last known sighting of a gray wolf in the area so it seemed like a good place to start your survey. You didn’t expect to cover too much ground, especially as you got the hang of it. Instead you wanted to be meticulous, examine the ground for wolf tracks, excrement and remains of prey.

You were going over the mental list of what to be on the look out for when the car pulled to a halt.

“Alright boss lady we’re here. You ready for this?”

“Absolutely.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Next chapter

Am I getting a little caught up in the idea of doing an ecological study like this…absolutely. So I had no real intention going in about making a long multi chapter story but that feels like where this is head. Is that something people are interested in, or do you prefer short and sweet??

[hyunjinsjeans]

He Knows (Changbin ver.)

Chan ver. | Lee Know ver. | Hyunjin ver.

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: you already have a baby, but maybe you are ready for baby number two… it might be that your husband is not as ready.

Type: Fluff 🧸, a little bit of angst at the end if you squint ❤️‍🩹, SFW 👍

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 2110

AN: this one is a little more on the angsty side. I hope it is cool with y’all! It seems the word count keeps coming up, so uh, sorry about that. I hope you enjoy!

You knew Changbin was not one to make rash decisions. In fact, it took you almost two years to start dating officially, and it was in part because you warned him either he gave you a label or he could lose your number. 

He did not like the idea of losing you for a second. Which is how he learned to pay a little less attention to his rational side and allowed himself to go by feelings when it came to the two of you. He was smart anyway, there was no need to overthink things. 

To everyone’s surprise you were the first couple in his group to get engaged, then married and a little under 2 years ago welcomed a baby girl who stole the show anywhere she went. Hajoon, was the name you came to pick together, meaning summer, she was your little ray of sunshine from the moment you first knew of her existence when you were only 6 months into married life. Changbin had gone into a short panic at first but he recovered quite smoothly and in true Seo Changbin fashion he stepped into his role as if he had been doing it all his life. You had been scared all throughout the pregnancy, not having planned for it and finding yourself struggling with morning sickness while he was away in America promoting with the boys. Giving birth made you anxious enough you actually started working out more than your husband, taking all the yoga classes you could handle and signing up for as many pre-natal pilates as possible. One would think you were never going to want to have a baby again. 

And one would be wrong. 

You were at peace with your small family of three until you started taking Hajoon to daycare. She was a happy little girl, knowing little more than her family and uncles. Following her father around as much as possible, she started dancing almost as quickly as she started walking and her speaking was coming along better than expected according to your in-laws. Most likely thanks to Changbin’s silly rap battles with his baby girl. No one year old could compete with his speed, but Hajoon would be damned if she didn’t try.

“No, no; she has a good rhythm!” Changbin always defended his daughter. 

And the fact was, Hajoon loved to play with her daddy, with her uncles… but most of all she loved playing with her daycare buddies. You could see how happy she was in the morning when you went to wake her up, get her dressed and bring her to the kitchen to have breakfast with Changbin. Yes, she was a daddy’s girl through and through (and Changbin was lost in that girl dad daze, wrapped around her miniscule finger from day one). But she would let go of her appa the instant you mentioned daycare. And upon seeing her little friends, she would forget all about how comfortable and warm your embrace was. 

Sometimes you stayed long enough to watch her find her friends, a couple of boys around her same age and a girl a little bit older. 

You couldn’t help it, in your heart you craved to give her the possibility of a friend to play with at all times. Someone to share all those toys you asked the boys not to get her but somehow still made it into Hajoon’s tiny backpack whenever you would hang out.  You wanted her to have what Changbin had with his sister. And your husband’s behavior upon finishing promotions for the last mini album did not do anything other than add fuel to the fire. 

Changin was not stupid (no matter what Seungmin’s opinion on the matter could be), he could tell when something was going on around him. He knew you were being “strange”. Quiet. 

If he knew one thing about you, it was that you were never quiet. Even when you were thinking things over, you reasoned out loud with yourself. You were never one to stay still for too long either. You were more obvious than you would ever like to admit. 

Chanbin was absolutely in love with you before Hajoon, but after she was born it was like the entire world revolved around the two of you, himself included. Which is why he was so aware of every detail in your life. How you still laid your hand in the middle of the bed between the two of you, as if your baby girl was still sleeping there as she had the first few months of her life. He knew you still used those baby oils on your daughter, refusing to move on from the baby scent. Changbin could also see how your eyes lit up at the sight of your daughter pressing her ear to Lee Know’s wife’s growing belly. 

Oh, if he could he would give you a baby right there and then. But he was so busy with work these days. 

Changbin arrived home under a light rain, his feet causing the water on the ground to fly around in small drops. He looked up under his umbrella to see you through the window, most likely making cookies in the kitchen with Hajoon as your helper. You two loved to play cooks. He loved to play the faithful customer. 

A smile spread across his face when he heard the loud giggles erupt from the home, you yelled in surprise while a joyful high pitched voice announced “more choco-ate!” 

Changbin knew your little one was a chocolate enthusiast. On that note he decided to come in, leaving his dirty boots on the entryway before calling for his family. 

“I’m home!” He put his jacket away. 

“Now, don’t run Joonie!” You advised from the kitchen. 

The sound of light feet quickly tapping on the floor was a clear indication that your advice was not taken. 

“Appaaaaa!” 

Changbin knelt to catch the fast approaching girl, her pigtails flying in the air while she ran with her arms open wide. She had no doubt he would catch her so she threw herself at him and got held against her dad’s strong chest, her cheek pressed happily onto his shirt. 

“There’s my princess!” He kissed the top of her head repeatedly as she giggled in his arms. “Where’s your mother, huh?”

As if you heard him, you stepped out of the kitchen. He lifted his gaze before picking up his daughter and going up to you, giving your cheek a gentle kiss. 

“What are you two up to?” He looked you up and down. 

You tilted your head to the side with a small smile on your face, you fixed Hajoon’s shirt that had ridden up her back and let your daughter explain. 

“Cookies”, she whispered into his ear. 

Changbin didn’t even flinch at the warm air his daughter blew straight into his ear. 

You asked him how things had gone at the studio and he sighed in response, not wanting to say too much. He had been working on a few songs with Chan and Han for over a week, some were good and ready to go. Others were still works in progress. It seemed like they would have more than enough material for their next album, but he knew it was all a lot more work to get done. And just before his baby girl’s second birthday. 

Although Changbin was keeping it to himself, he was overwhelmed. Still, you could tell. 

The sweet smell of the cookies flooded the house even a few hours after you had all eaten dinner. Giving Changbin the chance to unwind, you let him and Hajoon play in the living room while you cleaned up the kitchen. The sound of the tv and some of the girl’s toys resonated through the house along with their loud laughter.

Soon enough you walked into the living room to find Changbin snoozing on the sofa with Hajoon cuddled up to his chest, head nestled in the space between his neck and shoulder. You knew you already had many photos like this, but still pulled your phone out of your pant’s pocket and took the picture. 

“I’m not really asleep, you know?” Your husband’s voice startled you. 

“Oh,” you jumped to put your phone away. “Do you need help with the little one?”

He shook his head slowly, pointing for you to sit next to him.

You turned the tv down as you went to take a seat next to him, his free arm reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers. 

“We need to talk,” he mumbled. 

You looked back into his eyes. He was tired from the long day at work, you sighed and wondered what he wanted to talk about so you nodded and watched your daughter’s peaceful face. She was sound asleep, exhausted by the afternoon walk and the subsequent baking session. 

“What is it?” You turned in your seat to face him more. 

Changbin let out a heavy sigh, he did not like that he needed to bring it up but he could not have you hoping he would catch on to you and go along with it. 

“You know I love you,” he wasn’t asking but you nodded at his words, “and I love Joonie, you two mean so much to me…” 

He closed his eyes and you tugged on his hand, speaking as well. Encouraging your husband. Maybe the two of you knew where this conversation was going, reading each other in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, Binnie, we love you too. What do you need to say?”

Here came the difficult words: “Next year is going to be busy. I won’t be home a lot.” He opened his eyes and searched your face for a reaction. 

You opened your mouth to speak a couple of times but weren’t able to say anything. To be honest, you saw this coming. It did not make it any easier to accept what was being said between the lines. 

Changbin felt guilty when you looked away, there was a smile on your lips that was unable to reach any other feature on your face. 

“It’s only a year,” he tugged at your hand. 

You blinked at that and took in a deep breath. “Is there another world tour?”

“Yeah, we’re so excited but… I wouldn’t be able to leave you with this little monkey and another one on the way.”

There it was. Your head snapped in his direction, unable to play fool and tiptoe around the topic any longer. 

“I’m not saying I want one right now. You are busy, you’re tired. I just think we should plan it soon. I don’t want Hajoon to have a big age gap with her siblings.”

You leaned back on the sofa and put your head on his shoulder, watching your daughter sleep. Allowing Changbin’s warmth to comfort you from the disappointment of hearing him put your wish to have another baby on the waiting list.

Changbin let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around you. At least you were on the same page. “We can try for next year. With luck I won’t get completely outnumbered by girls.”

You bit back your laughter as you rested your hand on his stomach. “Oh, but you’re such a good girl dad!” 

“It’s only easy because Hajoon is a mini-you. And a rockstar really… more than me.” 

You giggled. 

“She is a mini-you, what are you talking about?” You caressed your little girl’s chubby cheek. 

She has the same face shape as her dad, her cheeks round and pink, her lips small and heart shaped.

“Actually, maybe I want an army of mini-you’s…” he let his fingers run along your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t make any promises about gender, but I definitely want to have another one.”

Changbin agreed and kissed your hair, “I’m sorry it’s not what you wanted. I would love to do it right now, but I would feel like crap knocking you up and then leaving the country. I will be here with you when we do it again.” He pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “I promise.” 

You tilted your head back and kissed his jaw, then his cheek and when he turned to you, you pressed a short kiss to his lips. 

“I’m not mad. You don’t have to explain anything to me, I get it. And you’re right, this is the best way to do it. Together.”

“Since you like the idea, you could kiss me again, you know?” He proposed, bringing up the mood again.

————

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: ☀ APOLLO: God of Archery, Art, Music, & Poetry, Prophecy, Light & Sun, Healing & Plagues, Truth 🎶

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

When you get claimed, you're graced with a light haloing over you. It's so bright yet soft. You also feel warm but you somehow feel like its a warm hug and its Apollo secretly giving you a hug.

The Apollo cabin welcomes you happily and they all gather around, singing you a welcome song. Some of them break out into an Acapella, while some whip out their instruments out of thin air. You find yourself at least humming to the song and maybe even singing along, the words just coming to you naturally. 

 You’re shown the sleeping quarters that are nice and warm, and when you press your nose against them, you can smell the sun on them. 

You’re also shown the ropes of the place, but most importantly where they treat the sick and injured. As children of Apollo, your natural gifts are used almost daily. If you’re not that hyped about seeing blood or the like, you’re moved away from the rotation and help out with other things: changing sheets, disinfecting, checking stock and getting stock, and so forth. 

You’re still required to learn how to do First Aid though. Even if your godly parent is the god of Healing, you’re still going to have to learn how to do the mundane medical methods. Better learn how to do proper CPR just in case. Sure, you could heal any damages but it's better not let it happen anyway. 

You just have candy in your pockets. You might think its odd but when you see a small camper hurt their knee and one of your siblings whip out a lollipop after patching it up, you realise you’re not just there to soothe physical wounds. 

Plus, you have candy. What’s not to love?

Though, speaking of Candy, you didn’t know you had to help out in sorting candy and inspecting it. Especially any red candy or specific dyes used in them. You learn immediately that once ago, there was a period of time that the campers acted very intensely, and after an intense lava wall incident and an almost burnt down pegasus stall, it was discovered that some people had consumed certain candies containing Red dye 40 and was affecting the ADHD.

The Apollo cabin is the place to be for entertainment. There’s constantly music and art being produced. There are even beat poetry nights. 

So many rap battles. 

The Apollo cabin often has collaborative efforts with the Hephatesus Athena,Dionysus cabin. There’s always some big project happening and it’s always a treat.

Hamilition. Cats. Hadestown. Heathers. Highschool Musical- all the broadway shows and musicals you can think of, the Apollo cabin have it down pat. Along with the Dionysus cabin, you just perform and break out in song. Eventually Mr. D and Chiron let you guys perform actual broadway musicals or general theatre because there were too many impromptu moments that broke through the entire camp. No one has recovered from the D's (Mr. D, the Dionysus, and Demeter cabin) and the Giant Strawberry incident.

When you get claimed, light envelops you with a soft mysterious song playing. It was warm and you swore you could imagine arms hugging you lovingly. You’d imagine Apollo used the claim to at least give his children a hug. You hugged back and you felt the faintest squeeze back. Before you could dwell on it later, the light disappears leaving a faint glow on your skin. 

The song you had heard had also drifted off as well, but it had spoken to your soul. Like it had been chosen for you. You saw a bunch of other campers stand around and begin going into verse, a choir of campers singing a song before you realized it was the same song from before. More and more people began to join in, singing in acapella, instruments being played, and people clapping along for the beat. You watched in excitement and you felt their music resonate with you, it went through your body, up your throat and before you knew it, you were singing along, leading it. 

When the song came to an end, the singers cheered and clapped before you saw a boy with curly blonde hair step up, giving you a beaming smile. You thought he looked like a golden retriever. 

“Hi! You definitely have the chords of a child of Apollo” he complimented, holding out his hand. You took his hand as you shook, “My name is Will Solace, and I’m the cabin leader of Cabin 7. Welcome to the Apollo cabin!”

[florawrites-blog]

WTF moment - enhypen

-unexplainable moments with them

(thanks nuds for the rap verseand tootie for opera verse you kinda ate)

Lee heeseung - 이희승

Heeseung was in the middle of telling you about his day, his voice animated as he recounted a funny story from practice. You were sitting on the couch, listening with a smile, but suddenly, an urge hit you.

“Hold up, Hee,” you said, lifting a hand to pause him mid-sentence.

He blinked, slightly confused, but he stopped talking and watched as you stood up from the couch. Without any further explanation, you stepped into the middle of the room and did a full, spontaneous roll on the floor, like a gymnast finishing a routine.

As you came to a stop, lying flat on your back, you took a deep breath, dusted yourself off, and sat back up with a satisfied grin. You glanced at Heeseung, who was staring at you, utterly perplexed but clearly amused.

“Okay, continue,” you said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Heeseung burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re so weird, you know that?”

You just shrugged, a playful glint in your eye. “Sometimes you just gotta roll with it, Hee. Now, what were you saying?”

He tried to pick up where he left off, but it took a few moments for him to stop laughing at the random interruption. Eventually, he continued his story, but now with a big, amused smile on his face, knowing that you always kept things interesting.

Park jongseong - 박종성

Jay was sitting across from you, deep in conversation about a new song he was working on. His voice was serious, and he was clearly invested in the details of the melody, the lyrics, and how everything was coming together.

You were listening intently at first, but then, out of nowhere, an idea struck you—a playful, impulsive idea you couldn’t resist.

As Jay continued talking, you suddenly burst into a loud, exaggerated opera song, belting out dramatic, nonsensical lyrics with all the vibrato you could muster. “La-la-la-laaaa! Oh, the mooornings are briiight, the mooorns are so toooight!” you sang, making up words as you went along.

Jay froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening in surprise as he watched you. His serious expression quickly melted into one of pure amusement, his mouth twitching with the effort to hold back a laugh.

You kept going for a few more seconds, throwing in a few hand gestures for dramatic effect. Finally, you ended your impromptu performance with a grand flourish, your arms outstretched as you struck a final pose.

There was a beat of silence before Jay couldn’t hold it in any longer—he burst out laughing, doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “What… was that?” he managed to say between laughs.

You grinned, taking a mock bow. “Just felt like adding a little flair to the conversation, you know?”

Jay shook his head, still chuckling. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Of course,” you said with a wink. “But seriously, what were you saying?”

Jay tried to regain his composure, but every time he looked at you, the memory of your random opera singing made him break into another fit of laughter. It took a while for him to get back on track, but you could tell he loved the spontaneous interruption—and you were pretty pleased with yourself for bringing a little extra fun to the moment.

Sim jaeyun - 심재윤

Jake had just walked into the room, looking as relaxed as ever. He smiled when he saw you and casually asked, “So, how was your day?”

You saw an opportunity to be a little extra and couldn’t resist. With a deep, exaggerated sigh, you dramatically collapsed onto the floor, clutching your chest like you were in the middle of a Shakespearean tragedy. “Oh, Jake,” you breathed out, your voice filled with mock anguish. “My day… was… a battle… for the ages…”

You started to wince, clutching your stomach and pretending to gasp for air, like you were on the verge of fainting from the sheer weight of the day’s events. Your over-the-top performance continued as you rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as if you were reflecting on some deep, profound pain.

Jake, now leaning against the wall, watched with an amused smirk, clearly entertained by your dramatic display. He waited patiently, knowing you were going to pull something like this.

Finally, with a sudden burst of energy, you sat up, brushed yourself off, and hopped back onto your feet as if nothing had happened. You looked at him with a straight face and said, “Good! You?”

Jake blinked at you, the contrast between your earlier dramatics and your casual response leaving him momentarily speechless. Then, he burst into laughter, shaking his head. “You are so ridiculous.”

You shrugged, grinning as you joined him in laughing. “Hey, just trying to keep things interesting!”

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

The room was dark and quiet, save for the soft sound of Sunghoon’s breathing beside you. But then, out of nowhere, you were jolted awake by the tail end of a vivid nightmare. Your eyes flew open, and you let out an ear-piercing scream, practically bolting upright in bed.

Sunghoon shot up beside you, eyes wide in alarm as he tried to process what was happening. His heart was racing from being startled awake so suddenly. “Baby, are you okay?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep and concern as he reached out to touch your shoulder.

Still in a half-awake, half-dazed state, you groggily turned to him, squinting in the darkness. Without even thinking, you grumbled, “Don’t wake me up, Sunghoon… Ugh…” as if he were the one who had disturbed your sleep instead of your own nightmare.

Sunghoon blinked, utterly confused, watching as you flopped back down onto your pillow like nothing had happened. Within seconds, you were out cold again, your breathing returning to the slow, steady rhythm of sleep.

He stared at you for a moment, completely dumbfounded. “I didn’t… you were…” he mumbled to himself, trying to wrap his head around the bizarre situation.

Eventually, he just sighed, shaking his head with a small, bewildered smile. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all before lying back down beside you. As he watched you sleep peacefully, it was almost hard to believe you’d just screamed your lungs out moments ago.

“Unbelievable,” he whispered to himself, before closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep, though he couldn’t help but keep one ear out for any more surprises from your end of the bed.

Kim sunoo - 김순우

You and Sunoo were having a lighthearted conversation in the living room, laughing about something ridiculous that happened earlier in the day. In the middle of the conversation, you got this random, playful idea to try and pick him up, just to see if you could.

Without warning, you lunged toward him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you attempted to lift him off the ground. Sunoo, caught completely off guard, let out a surprised laugh, “What are you—”

Before he could finish his sentence, your footing slipped, and the two of you tumbled to the floor in a heap. You landed on your back, with Sunoo half on top of you, both of you wide-eyed and momentarily stunned.

For a split second, there was dead silence as you both processed what just happened. But instead of acknowledging the fall or how absurd the whole situation was, you quickly scrambled back up to your feet, dusted yourself off, and casually continued the conversation as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“So anyway, as I was saying,” you began, picking up right where you left off, completely unfazed. Sunoo blinked at you, still lying on the floor in disbelief, before bursting into laughter at your nonchalant attitude.

You flashed him a grin, pretending like the fall was just a minor interruption. Sunoo shook his head, laughter went to a straight face as he got back up. “What the devils fuck was that y/n?” he asked really concerned.

“You are my cute jeans” you shot back with a wink, feeling pretty proud of how smoothly you brushed off the whole ordeal. All sunoo could do was side eye you.

Yang jungwon - 양중원

The morning sunlight was filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room, but it didn’t match the urgency that filled the air. Jungwon stood by the side of the bed, looking down at you with a mix of amusement and worry.

“Y/n, you’re late for work,” he said, shaking your shoulder gently. “Like, really late.”

Groggily, you stirred but instead of the typical morning groans or scrambling to get up, you suddenly sat up in bed with an unexpected burst of energy. Without warning, you began rapping—freestyle, no less.

“I’m late for work, but I’m feelin’ fly, Hit snooze one more time, who cares why, Deadlines? Nah, I’m in my zone, This bed’s my throne, leave me alone.”

Jungwon blinked, watching you in utter confusion as you waved your hands around dramatically, fully immersed in your impromptu rap. He just stood there, completely taken aback, as you continued, looking like you were about to drop an album.

“I’m the queen of dreams, don’t need no clock, Sleepin' in style while the world gets shocked. Coffee? Nah, I’ll rap my way through, This bed’s my stage, and I’m spittin’ truth!”

Jungwon couldn’t help but laugh, his expression going from concerned to amused in a matter of seconds. He crossed his arms and shook his head, waiting patiently for you to finish your one-person performance.

“uh rapper maam,” he finally said, trying to get your attention. “You really do need to get up though.”

You paused mid-rhyme, blinking as if you just remembered where you were. “Oh, right,” you said casually, as if nothing had happened. “Gotta go to work. Cool, cool.”

Jungwon just stared at you with a grin, clearly entertained by your random morning rap session. “You’re one of a kind, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied with a playful smirk, finally getting out of bed. “Now, let’s go before I drop another verse.”

Jungwon shook his head in disbelief, chuckling as you rushed around to get ready, still humming the beat to your makeshift rap.

Ni- ki -남편

You were curled up on the couch, eyes red and puffy from the emotional rollercoaster the show you were watching had just taken you on. Tears streamed down your face as the dramatic scene unfolded, tugging at your heartstrings. Ni-ki sat beside you, looking slightly unsure but trying his best to comfort you, patting your back gently.

"It's okay," he murmured softly, handing you a tissue. "It's just a show."

You sniffled loudly, dabbing at your eyes and giving a dramatic sigh. "But it was so sad! Why did they have to kill off my favorite character?"

Ni-ki continued to nod sympathetically, trying to be as supportive as possible, even though he didn’t fully get why you were so upset. He rubbed your shoulder gently, hoping his presence was enough to help.

But then, something clicked. Mid-cry, you suddenly stopped, your expression shifting from sorrow to a more serious, almost annoyed look. You wiped your eyes one last time and sat up straight. "Stop crying, you’re making everyone awkward," you said, your voice sharp, but your eyes focused intensely on Ni-ki as if he was the one bawling his eyes out this whole time.

He blinked, looking startled and confused. "Wait, what? I’m not—"

But before he could even finish, you shot him one last sharp glance, grabbed the remote, and stood up, walking out of the room with your head held high, leaving Ni-ki sitting there completely dumbfounded. He stared after you, realizing you had projected all of your emotions onto him, but now he was the one left feeling awkward in the aftermath.

He sighed and shook his head with a small, amused smile. "Guess I’m the emotional one now…"

[hiael]

Obey Me! Headcanons that the voices in my head created

The pact marks don't affect the MC in general, but when they are used, the color of the user's eyes tends to change to the color of sin (when Solomon sees the color of his eyes changing to the colors of his brothers, geez, jealousy boy), it happens more often than you think and in addition to the marks on the body, it's a reminder to everyone that you're connected with the lords of hell.

Human beings can speak very quickly and neither demons nor angels can keep up when this happens. Scientifically, we talk fast because of anxiety, nervousness, excitement or the communication conditions that the environment provides. Solomon and MC talking about something they thought was cool during the tea? For the others it becomes a RAP battle and all they can hear is "hum, nah, ha, hehe", the rest is indecipherable. More than once, during a presentation or debate in class, MC was told to shut the fuck up or slow down so that everyone could understand.

All material related to the history of the human world is more or less 100 to 200 years out of date in the library. Satan is slowly trying to update this, but they think that 200 years is almost nothing for humans to change, so unlike technology (which they think they created with magic) they just don't care. A new iPhone ok, now the human being landed on the moon during a bloodless war? Their lie, do you still believe what mortals say?

Humans sleep more than angels and demons, but even less than demons from the circle of laziness. MC, Solomon and Belphie (and sometimes Luke) usually sleep in some places at RAD during and between classes.

All exchange students have their own fan club. Luke's must be the quietest, everyone friendly and kind so as not to disappoint the little angel. Did you see him walking past you today, sad that he hadn't managed to buy a keyring at the RAD art fair? Bitch surprise, his fan club are still demons, the keyring will mysteriously appear on his desk in the classroom written "To Luke, a little big ray of sunshine in our lives" and the person who bought it has left the RAD, anyone know why?

Still on the subject of fan clubs, we're not talking about Solomon's. If the number of demons he has a pact with isn't enough of a warning, there are others walking around in capes and blouses as if they were cosplayers and sending letters to his house with phrases like 'roses are red, violets are blue, can we make a pact? Signed: Demon X' should be a better warning

And to end the fan clubs, MC's are trained in the art of being meticulous, a silent army that lives in the shadows - meaning they are in the devildom version of twitter. Lots of photos taken on the sly, fanart of all kinds, fanfics, merchandise and videos edits of (and when were they sheep? There are millions and millions of images circulating out there). Ever wondered why Miss Em sold so much? The MC fandom. They won't compete with anyone for their attention, the sweet human is simply appreciated the way they are (and they don't want to be on the brothers' list to "get away from the MC"). The Human Appreciation Club was not approved by the student council and they removed their devilpedia page, but that didn't erase these demons desire to idolize MCs. Live, love and laugh for MC, the way simps are.

At some point, the Real or Cake trend went crazy until Luke, who started making desserts that looked like everyday things, only stopped after surprising Simeon by cutting a cell phone-shaped cake (Simeon tried to break his with his hand after that, thinking it was cake. He spent 3 weeks without a phone)

Every time MC returns from a trip to the human world, they have to bring a suitcase just with souvenirs from there. Luckily, it can be anything they find fun, like a frog-shaped coaster, a jar of M&Ms with a pinwheel on top, a whole corn cake, a tie with a motivational quote, a children's book, or a coin of a specific year. Everyone just loves the fact that MC was thinking of them and they love using the gift they received. Barbatos's favorite tea set is now a completely transparent one with gold floral details.

Children's cartoons from 1940 still show on Devildom TV and Beel watches while eating or working out.

Lucifer has a family photo inside his wallet, Mammon once tried to steal his credit card, he was so shocked that he ended up screaming, he was caught and punish. Neither of them mention the photo.