#I can and will continue into more points if asked

[thatshadowcomic]

I like the idea that Sonic can be silent for hours but word vomits when he's nervous or catches the right moment. Shadow is a good listener...at least to people he respects. I HC it's a bad trait of his, walking away or leaving before someones finished talking because obviously he already knows this thing.

I think it's something they would both have to work on. Sonic might even have the opposite issue, never finishing or explaining enough...just running off.

a lil tropey sonadow warm up, before getting some more comic stuff going in the new year. This one's been sitting in my files for months.

I think over time he'd become fascinated by the strange things people say, given how often sonic just sits and listens to the world around him. At some point his "wtf are you talking about, that's a dumb thing to say" would turn into, "thats a weird thing to say. Why? tell me more. I need to understand everything."

I bet sonic would slap him with a "why do you think he said that? Really? huh." but never explaining, making shadow doubt himself and ask more just to prove he's exploring more perspectives.

Also continues my HC that he's accidentally romantic, despite himself haha. "is he into me?" Who knows, honestly.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

big sister - hyun ju

summary; a big sister will always protect, but when will she be able to relax?

genre/extra tags; one shot, found family, fluff, hurt/comfort?, canon typical violence, i dont like the second season writing, but i can not deny myself this diva, that's mother !!, teen! reader, hyun ju is the only reason i decided to watch this season, slight canon divergence bc i have the mind of a goldfish, canon typical sad heavy conversations, big sister is written to be seen as the korean honorific "unnie", older sister moments written in the point of view of a younger sibling, unintentional love letter for my appreciation to my sister, reader is implied to be some form of lgbt but not out (im projecting)

[platonic] [gender-neutral reader]

[warning; mentions of transphobic ideas]

a/n; before people ask, no, im not doing requests for this show. i just don't feel fully comfortable writing for squid game. i just really wanted to write this because, believe it or not, i write for my enjoyment. even i do switch off here every few months or every other month.

dinner had rolled around after an intense "game" of life or death. how you managed to survive this long is beyond you. but you might have a strong idea of why you're living so long, and it was the strong woman who was sitting beside you with some of the other women who were surviving so far.

the old lady had pointed out that hyun ju was not like other people. and it really was odd to her. but hyun ju was used to that. more than used to it. she lived through it since she decided to come out.

you listen to the conversation, not really putting your two cents in as it seemed like there was no right time to butt in. but as the conversation continued, the mood was just a little lighter. and that was more than enough morale. the old lady seemed to slowly understand hyun ju and her struggle.

you've zoned out so much, you almost fail to notice hyun ju sneaking an egg onto your shabby given lunch box meal. you look up at her as she gives you a warm look before pretending that she didn't just do that.

you mix the rice with not much thought, spilling some bits of rice and egg over its metal container before you slowly eat. unbeknownst to you, hyun ju glances back at you as if to make sure you're actually eating and not staring off with a tired look that no teen or child should have. you've seen everything, you're part of this sick game, she may not know your story, but she knows you don't deserve any of the bad you've been through.

you're the youngest in the entire room, a room filled with people with insurmountable debt and issues. hyun ju can only imagine your worry, your anxiety, the burden.

when the first game got serious, you were trying your damned hardest to keep your fear contained under the watchful eye of that robot scanning every movement. she was right in front of you, keeping you safe along with the rest of the people who lined up with her. you look like you wanted to cry the moment you got to the finish line. if she wasn't full of adrenaline at the time, she probably would've heard how hard your heart was beating.

somehow, she had taken two people under her care. you and young-mi. how could she not care about a young woman like young-mi and a teen like yourself? two anxious people forced to live a life full of debt and pain when you both deserved nothing but comfort and love.

people start lining up in their beds for nighttime. gi-hun was very insistent on being careful at night. it was dangerous. some people were not behind just killing others at night to sweeten the pot of money that loomed over everyone's head like a golden sun.

as most of the adults started to climb in their beds, you stand awkwardly. you weren't a stranger to sleeping a room full of people, but you were definitely a little paranoid after what gi-hun was talking about.

you find yourself naturally gravitating to hyun ju. her presence was just so calming, and she was so caring for others. it was hard not to get attached. young-mi had taken to calling her big sister. and you found yourself doing the same when you call out to her softly.

"big sister?" you gently tap at her arm as she turns to look at you. she silently urges you to continue speaking with a gentle look. you can see the tired in her eyes, but she looks at you, unwilling to say no. "this is embarrassing..." you mutter.

"it's okay. i'm here." she reassures you.

"can i stay with you tonight? i'm-" you choke a little bit on your words, not only out of embarrassment but fear. "i'm really scared. i don't wanna be alone." you confess.

she softens, "i would love to let you, but it's too risky. if people come for us, it would be very hard to fight back. i'm so sorry, kid." she opens her arm out for a hug, and you take the comfort you can get in this shitty place. "i will do my best to keep you safe, alright? when we get out of here, i'm going to find you again, and we can help each other, yeah? i'll protect you."

you nodded with her words, not finding the heart to say anything. she takes this as a sign to start guiding you into your bunk bed on top. at least the top bunks would be somewhat safer for you. you hesitantly climb into bed. "if a fight breaks out, hide. run. just be safe. i will find you, and you'll be safe." she continues to reassure you the best she can.

"okay. goodnight big sister." you whispered. "please be safe."

"i will." she said with a calm confidence that only she could pull off that didn't make you feel worried for her.

you hope that you get out of here, so you don't have to see the worried exhaustion in her eyes anymore.

she was a big sister by heart and soul. you just hoped her big heart wouldn't lead her to her doom. she protects and gives, but when will she relax?

[sugawhaaa]

FELIX ONE-SHOT

🐾•☆{ so full }☆•🐾

Warnings//genre:: SMUT! hybrid, breeding kink, marking, sweat fetish, scent kink, oral (F rec), aftercare, mating prompt, possessive Felix, spit play

pairing:: dom!cat!hybrid!Felix x sub!fem!reader

A/N:: sorry this is a lot shorter than I planned :(

Skz masterlist:: 🐾

Taglist:: @yukichan67 @kbunzzi2oa @annafeebou

🎧::

You had read about Hybrids going into heat before but you didn't imagine it to be this intense. Felix spends most of his time on the couch in front of the AC shirtless, if not only in his boxers, or in his bedroom. He eats way less than usual, he's always sweating and his fangs have definitely grown resulting in aching gums. He's gotten to the point he doesn't remember what it's like not to be hard because he has a constant aching boner that never goes away no matter how much he masturbates. Worst of all of this, he's moody as all hell.

Felix has never gone through such an intense heat, perhaps because he's living with a woman now, but either way he's struggling with his feelings a lot. Between the raging hormones and frustration from lack of control Felix is rather...snappy.

Currently, Felix is up in his room and you have left him alone all day because he wants to be left alone but you worry about him. You make a plate of dinner for him and tread up to his room before knocking on his door. "Felix, I have dinner for you," You call out but he doesn't reply. You open the door to see him lying down in his bedsheets, his eyes open. "Hey," You say softly and Felix's ear twitches. "How are you feeling?"

"Shit," He replies and rolls over, his tail flapping in irritation. You hesitate on how to reply.

"Anything I can do to help?" You ask softly before gently setting the plate on his nightstand.

"I don't know," He growls as his tail slaps harder against the bed. "You should get out," Felix says before rubbing his face up against his pillow.

"I'm worried about you Felix," You hesitantly put a hand to his back and his ears flick up at the sensation, his nose twitching. Felix shakes his head and wiggles away from you. You sit down on the bed next to him and notice his body trembling softly, probably from the raw urge to breed. "Talk to me, I want to make sure you're safe," You rub his back.

"If you stay here much longer you won't be safe," He says gruffly before rolling over to face you. His breath was heavy and his face was flushed, sweat built up on his forehead. He looks up at you with those desperate eyes that squeeze your heart but something is hidden deep within them...You bring a hand up to his cheek, petting him softly, and he dips his cheek right into your hand, rubbing up against your palm. He lets out a soft groan as he feels your skin on his. "I need..." He mumbles incoherently as he slithers closer to you.

"What do you need my baby?" You pet his head softly with your other hand and he groans softly.

"Breed," His hands tremble as he reaches out to claw at your shirt. His breathing gets heavier as his pupils widen, his tail now swaying slowly. You're slightly taken aback by his statement, he was much more direct than you had expected. "Please...let me," Felix nuzzles his head up into your neck, pushing up against you hard.

"I-I don't know Felix..." You continue to pet his head as he growls softly, his teeth grazing over your skin. He then rubs his body up against yours, the heat of his body surging into yours, and you feel his cock desperately rubbing up against your thigh. "Alright," You sigh and Felix grins before biting down on your neck, not too hard, but his fangs make it more painful than intended. You let out a mix of a moan and whimper as you feel him suck on the bite, making the mark more prominent.

"I wanna claim you, make you mine," He growls as his hands run around you body, tugging off your clothes. You simply let him have his way with you because you know that right now, he just needs to let it all out. Once he gets you naked he leans back, his eyes raking over your body vigorously. "You're so hot baby," He growls before leaning down to your stomach, placing kisses all around as his hands run up to your hips, kneading the skin. "You're gonna look even sexier all round and swollen with my seed," He rubs up against your stomach as he lets his fantasies run wild. He didn't know if he could even fertilize you put he could still embrace his breeding urges. "Fuck," He groans before bringing his head down to your core, his hot breath now feeling cold against your heat. "I've been smelling you all week,"

He nuzzles his head between your legs before beginning to give your pussy little kisses and licks. "So sweet," He groans before diving in deeper, now eating you out like he's been starved. His pupils are now completely blown out as he watches your reactions, the way you squirm and throw your head back. You bring a hand down to his hair, grabbing his hair in a tight fist. You notice his tail happily swaying in the air behind him.

His tongue circles around his slit and his eyes roll back, feeling your little hole he's so eager to fill, could he possibly wait? He tries to, focusing on eating you out instead but he can't help himself. "Y/N, can I please," he lifts his head up, his sweaty forehead resting on your pelvis.

"Please what?" You tilt your head, petting his ear softly.

"Breed...I need your consent..." he moans softly as his hands ghost over your hips and thighs, his breath labored and hot on your skin. "Please say it...please let me fill your until you're nice and round, breed you until you're full of my kits," he nibbles on your tummy, leaving another mark just above your pubes.

"Yes Felix," you tuck his hair back messily. "You can...breed me," you hesitate solely because you aren't sure he can but it's the principle of the matter, to fill you, claim you, mate with you.

"Are you sure?" he looks up at you, his lips trembling and his eyes glossy. He pulls himself up weakly, sweat cascading down his body. As he pulls himself above you his eyes lock onto your cunt, he's so ready for this and he hopes you are too. "I don't know if I can control myself..." he mumbles in a low voice before positioning himself accordingly.

"It's okay," you caress the side of his face and he lets out a shaky breath. "Let it all out," you kiss his forehead before leaning back on his pillows, your arms around his shoulders. He takes a deep breath before pushing his hips forward, a choked moan breaking through his lips.

"Fuck," he tosses his head back, smiling wickedly. His ears flick upwards for the first time in days while his tail sways back and forth in excitement. His hips instantly begin to rock into yours sliding in and out smoothly thanks to your mixed arousal. "I wanna breed you so bad," he growls loudly as he claws at the pillow your head rests on. He fights to hold back his lust, not wanting to hurt you, but it's a losing battle.

"Let it out," you moan softly and kiss his nose softly, and his eyes light up. His hips begin to pick up speed and strength, the rolling filling with the sound of his cock ramming into your sloppy pussy. His strong, mating demeanor cracks for a moment, his eyes squinting shut as he whimpers.

"You're so tight," Felix moans as he remains steady but a little uncontrolled, his head fuzzy from lust. You bring a hand up to his hair, fisting it softly, and his vision blurs from the overload of lust. "I'm going insane," he smirks softly as his head falls to your chest, his hips slapping against yours relentlessly. "Need to claim you," he bites your chest, right in the center, symbolizing he has your heart. "You're so good to me, the perfect owner and perfect mate," he smiles seductively as he picks his head back up, sweat dripping down his nose as he watches your body bounce with each thrust. "You're gonna take it all, aren't you? Take all my seed," he growls possessively.

"Yes baby, fill me up," you moan loudly as you claw at his back. "Fuck, I'm close,"

"Yes," he moans, "I can't wait to see that pretty face when you cum," his voice reeks of lust and raw desire burning for you. Felix doubles up his efforts to bring you to the edge. "C'mon baby," he kisses you quickly. "I wanna cum with you," He murmurs before leaning back into your lips, your tongues messily exploring each others mouths. "Almost there baby," He nuzzles his head into your jaw before you feel that rush of warmth through your body and the knot in your belly snaps, fluids rushing out to coat his cock.

"Felix," You moan very softly, nearly a whisper and he unloads inside you. His hips jitter forward as layer after layer of cum pours into you.

"Yes, oh my fucking god," He growls as his body shudders. Felix clings to you tightly as his load fills you up entire. "You're so hot...such a perfect mate," His hand snakes down your body to gently rub where your uterus would be. "Nice and warm hm~?" He smirks softly and you sigh.

"And full," You smile as Felix sits up. He pulls out, your walls and arousal still clinging to him, before sitting next to you. "Feelin better?"

"Yeah, a bit," He nods with a smile and you thought your little ordeal was over. You move to stand up but Felix quickly grabs your hips. "But I need to make sure you're full," He smirks softly as he pulls you back down to the bed. "Full of all my seed," He lays you down on your tummy and you can't deny that you're excited for another round, another rush of pleasure. "I'm not holding back this time," He growls before holding your body down. "Pin your body down and pump you full of my seed," He thrusts his cock back into you without warning and as he begins to pound into you, you can hear the cum in your cunt sloshing around. "You hear that baby?" He growls before leaning down, caging your body beneath his. Though the question wasn't entirely intended to be answered you couldn't if you wanted to because your mouth was so full of moans, you could hardly function as Felix wrapped a gentle hand around your throat.

Saliva drips down from your lips and Felix grins, quickly licking it away. "Messy girl," He nibbles on your earlobe as his hips slam against your ass, the clap of skin on skin echoing in the room. "You drunk from my cock huh? Can't even talk," He taunts with a growl stuck in his throat. He begins to slam into you harder, the bed shaking with each thrust.

"Fuck! Felix!" You cry out loudly as your eyes roll back, more spit dripping down to your chin and throat before meeting Felix's hand that's wrapped around your throat.

"You cumming?" He says in a slightly teasing way.

"Yeah," You whimper with a soft nod and Felix grins.

"Good girl," He praises into your ear, hoping you'll teeter over the edge soon. His hopes came to light quite quickly after his praise.

"Felix," You pant out and he grins.

"That's me baby," He whispers into your ear as your body shakes from the intensity of your orgasm. He quickly wraps up his orgasm, unloading inside you again, finally satisfying his heat. "Fuck," He pants before laying down on your body. "It's calmed down a little," He sighs softly. "All that release at once...Thank you Y/N," He sighs before cuddling up beside you. "Are you okay?" He looks up at you with those big eyes.

"Yeah, great actually," You chuckle, "But tired," You sigh and Felix nods.

"Me too...we should get some sleep," Felix purrs into your chest as he wraps his body around yours. "My mate,"

[skipper1331]

you wish you were me // Leah Williamson

a/n: inspired by this iconic performance

Your friend group was out in the local bar, celebrating a birthday. Your mate had just turned 26 and in her eyes, every birthday was there to celebrate it, so that‘s what you did.

You had a lovely dinner at her favourite restaurant and were now down for some drinks.

So here you were in a bar between the smell of alcohol and sweat, playing a card game.

"Wanna spice things up?" your best friend asked with a mischief grin.

"Tell me" the birthday girl replied, very interested in what your bestie had to say.

"Don‘t even listen to her" you argued when the suggestion came that who ever would lose the next card game had to do karaoke, "and the winner is allowed to choose the song"

But there was no point in arguing because everyone was loving the idea.

-

"Oh come on" you huffed as you lost while the other girls cheered.

"This will be fun" your best friend laughed as she ordered some more shots. You surely would need them. You couldn’t go on stage as sober as you were right now.

Drowning the next two rounds of shots, you stood up, the winner whispering the choice of song in your ear, so it‘d be a surprise for everyone.

Thankfully, it wasn‘t an awfully long song nor even a proper song. It was 'You wish you were me' by Trish which she sang in the series 'Austin and Ally'

I can deal with that, you thought, I wont see most of these people after this anyway.

Walking towards the karaoke guy, your best friend talked to him, your nerves on a rise. So many eyes looked at you.

your friends cheered, "Go girl!!" enjoying themselves very much while you were about to run. You hated being the centre of attention.

Fuck it

"You‘ve got this" y/bsf/n said, handing you the microphone, walking back to where your friends sat.

Weirdly when the music started playing you felt relaxed, in that moment the motto “yolo” was all that mattered.

"I‘m so much better than youuu" confidence starting to rise, "I’m a ten, you‘re a two" signaling with your hands your words.

"I‘m a queen, you‘re a fool" you pointed a random person in the bar who was a blonde girl, her friends cheering and gasping loudly before they started laughing.

"I‘m a throne, you’re a stool" you walked and danced on the stage, not caring at all, "you‘ll never be this cool"

"No-Ooh"

"I sing to you on this stage"

"I‘m at the top of my game"

"I‘m a star and you‘re lame"

once again you pointed at the blonde girl.

You grabbed some coins out of your pocket, "I‘m cash and you‘re change" dropping them on the floor.

"You‘ll never have my fame" you sang

not knowing that the blonde woman was actually someone fame, someone who had captained her country to the European championship and winning the trophy.

"So-Ooh"

"You wish you were me"

"Got everything you need"

"Got no time for jealousy"

"I, I"

Slowly the song came to an end, "Yeah, you wish you were me" being the last sentence before you did a mic drop and hit a pose.

The whole bar started to cheer, happily amused by the performance.

Quickly though, you picked up the mic, embarrassed about the move, sincerely apologizing to karaoke guy before you hurried back to your friends.

"That was awesome!" the birthday girl yelled, "best birthday ever!" hugging you.

And just as that the night continued.

"You have an admirer" your best friend whispered, nodding her head in the direction of the blonde who you‘d pointed at the whole time.

"I think she‘s about to kill me" you brushed her off, taking a sip of your drink.

"No, look at her, she‘s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to her!"

"What? No. Do you want a drink? I want one" you changed the subject, already getting up.

"Your glass is half full"

"No it‘s not" and with that you left.

Pah! As if the blonde woman was seriously not thinking about killing you yet you had to admit, she was gorgeous. Maybe you should apologize-?

You were about to order another drink when someone next to you beat you to it, "put whatever she wants on my tab, please" the person said, that person being the blonde woman, "that was quite a performance, aye?"

"Oh no, you don’t have to-" you tried, happy to pay for you own drink or maybe pay for hers (?) - you didn’t know.

"I want to. I’m Leah, Leah Williamson and you are?" she smiled, her smile so genuinely that maybe, just maybe she didn‘t want to kill you.

-

"Aye, Mrs Williamson, you wanna sing a song for me?" Leah mocked, pulling you into her grasp.

"Baby! I apologized for that already several times" you whined, the defender peppering kisses to your cheek.

"What can i say? If it wasn't for the song, I wouldn't be able to call you my wife today"

[defmaybe]

Challengers

12 Days of Christmas: Day 6, December 30th, 2024

ILLIT’s Noh Yunah x Reader

0.8k words

Christmas Masterlist

Enemies to lovers, what a fucking trope.

The gap between you and Noh Yunah is somewhat large. You’ve never beaten her in a professional game. That “friendly” match didn’t count. She said she didn’t put in much of an effort. Still, the frequent match-ups are enough to spark a rivalry between you two.

You just lost to her by quite a margin (it was 0-6, 1-6, the rift is that bad). Her backhands were flawless against you. You could’ve done better, but any regard is thrown out of the window when your head is buried deep in her sweat-slicked thighs in the women’s sauna room, eating her pussy with reckless abandon.

“Fucking cuntslut,” she sneers. The red hue on her face gives another perspective to the situation.

You pause your act for an objection. “That’s not a real word, Yunah.” Can’t let this slide, after all.

“I just beat your ass on the court. I think I earned my rights to invent a new word today.”

You only shrug before diving back into her cunt again. A moan escapes her lips. Her thighs wrap around your head tightly. It’s an almost crushing pressure.

“F–Fucking bitch,” she lets out another condescending word. That only spurs you on even more. You double your efforts on her clit, making her grip on your hair tighter. It hurts, but it can’t compare to the joy of being pushed into Noh Yunah’s smooth, glistened thighs like this. She moans and moans. It's music to your ear, really. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Her sweat from the inner of her thighs paints your cheeks wet. You’re even happier, being smeared in her fluid like this. Her musky scent after the match is making you feral. It’s raw. It’s intense. You love it.

Your body is melting under this heat. Fuck, it’s so hot, it’s making you sweat, but that can’t compare to the fiery act you’re doing with Yunah’s slick wetness. She tastes so damn good. And those angelic moans only push your arousal higher.

“H–How do I t–taste, cuntslut?” she asks. Any resolve left is faltering now.

You chuckle, head remains stuck to the space between her legs. Yeah, she tastes good. You love it. “Pretty good.”

“P–Pretty good my ass, I know y–you’re loving it, don’t you?” she hisses, shaken, pressing your head deeper into her core.

You let out another chuckle. “Never had anything better in my life, Yunah.” Before you go back to eating her cunt, rewarding you with an airy moan.

“S–Suppose so–ah!” she rasps as you give her plump ass a squeeze. They feel so soft in your hands. You watched them jiggle during the gruelling match, and now you get to touch it. God, what a day.

You quicken your pace, licking her wet pussy even faster. Your tongue must’ve been full of her slick juice at this point. She lets out stuttered whimpers at your mercy. Finally, a lead against her in this heat, surrounded by her slick thighs. You couldn’t care less about what happened on the court anymore.

“Fuck, g–gonna cum,” she utters. Her muscles clench. Her grip on your head becomes tighter and tighter. It hurts, but her taste is helping with the scraping nails.

Her victorious scream on top of you might be one of the best things you’ll ever hear. Her body spasms around your head. Her wails come out raspy and uncontrolled. She fucking loves this—this whole power dynamic, this little rendezvous—but she doesn’t dare to admit it.

“Fuck! Shit!” she shouts. Let’s hope that the wall is thick. Her nails are digging into your hair so deep they can draw blood. You watch her pussy contract in the wake of her orgasm, as you continue to eat her out with no abandon.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally comes down from the mind-breaking orgasm from her number-one enemy. She’s struggling to catch her breath. You can feel it. Her whole body is flushed. Her small chest heaves in exhaustion. A small part of you says that she looks so ethereal like this, but that’s the topic for the other day.

“D–Don’t get ahead of yourself, cuntslut,” she mutters, still lost in the ecstasy you just gave her. She’s avoiding your eyes. Of course, she loves this.

A chuckle escapes your lips as you recompose yourself and stand up against her. Your aroused core rests in front of her face. She’s probably using all of her willpower to not just pull your towel down and get a taste of you.

“Until the next match?” you ask, looking down at her sitting. She’s flushed. A smile is painted on your face.

“Until the next match.”

And that’s how you snatch a win from Noh Yunah.

—

[keepingitformyself]

Hello, how are your day going?? could you please write a fluff natasha x reader where r loves to draw and paint and is very good at it? giving some drawings to nat, doodling on her arm when r is bored, drawing/painting nat thinking she isn't noticing (ofc she does baby is a super spy🤏) and having a sketchbook with a looooot of sketches and drawings of nat. R could try to teach nat how to paint while they have those cute dates where they do a painting of eachother yk? also, idk if you'll want to add that but after i finished Arcane, my dream was to draw Vi's back tatto on someones back, so if you want to maybe r could ask to make it on nat

hope you can understand my ideas, english isn't my first language :/

everything is blank until you draw me

A/N: hello! thank you for requesting. hope you enjoy :))

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha first noticed your quirk on the way home from a mission.

it’s hot in cairo around this time of year. humid, sticky weather. everyone was suffering from mild heat exhaustion, suits were unzipped and shallow breaths were heard among the jet cabin.

it was a taxing mission. the team was silent in a quiet mourning.

but you sat in your seat in a far corner, barely showing any sign of the discomfort everyone else was in.

instead you had your face pushed into a leather bound journal in your lap, a pen in hand. the strokes you were making on the paper were far too wide for you to be writing something down.

no, you were drawing. natasha concluded.

no one else seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn’t care enough to point it out.

natasha didn’t really pay any heed to it. she was more concerned with passing around iv packs to the team, making sure they didn’t pass out.

when she got to you, you immediately closed the journal on your lap. her eyebrow rose at your behavior, but she didn’t question it. there was a boundary that you were entitled to, and she wasn’t one to cross any lines unless she needed to.

you looked up at her expectantly, wordlessly she handed you an iv pack, but you shook your head and pushed her hand away.

“i’m okay.” you said. “my body is good at regulating body temperature.”

natasha didn’t say anything, she already knew this, but call it good camaraderie. though, she tried not to notice the way your hand twitched in your lap, the same hand that covered the journal under it.

“save it for someone who needs it.” you added after a few seconds.

she considered you for a few moments. for the most part you seemed fine, aside from the slight twitch in your hand. she figured you just wanted a moment for yourself so she let you be.

natasha gave a curt nod before continuing on.

the quiet hum of the quinjet was the only thing that could be heard as she moved through the space. natasha had stolen a glance more than twice between you and her task at hand.

she wouldn’t pry but her fascination had grown more as she thought about the way your hands wrapped around the worn journal. how your fingers flicked at the edges of the frayed pages.

later that evening, when the team had finally settled back into the compound and were settled in their sleeping quarters, she found you again.

it was very late into the night. nearly nearing two in the morning.

this time you’d found a small nook by the large windows in the common room, you’d looked off into the night horizon, the pen in your hand making rapid strokes across the paper.

natasha didn’t try to hide her curiosity this time.

“drawing again?” she asked, her voice was soft.

you flinched at her voice and natasha noticed the way your hand tightened around the journal. your mouth opened and closed, as to find the words to ask how she’d noticed your recreation of putting pen to paper.

as if reading your mind natasha spoke up,

“i think you forget that i’m a spy and it’s my job to notice these things, Y/N.” she joked, plopping down on a seat near to you.

you glance down at the book in your hands, a sheepish smile graces your lips.

“it helps me…process.”

natasha tilts her head, elbows resting on her knees as she leans closer.

“can i see?”

you hesitate, but gulp down your nerves and slowly turn the journal towards her. the whole page was filled with dark shadows, lines to imitate the image of smoke, jagged lines to form silhouettes of crumbling buildings, faceless people running, catching their final moments of breath, and of them being carried away with help.

it was haunting, terrifying, but deeply fascinating all the same.

“is this from today?” natasha asked, voice careful.

you nodded. “it sounds weird, but…i remember things when i’m drawing them.” you pause, chewing your lip, “and i don’t want to forget them…not fully. so it’s like i take the weight of it and i trap it here, instead of…”

“…instead of carrying it.” natasha finished for you, her green eyes meet yours with a understanding.

you nodded again, looking down.

“it’s good.” she said after a moment. “you’re really good.”

the faintest smile graces your lips,

“i’ve been drawing since i was kid. but it’s kind of different now…it can be something really nice to look but sometimes it just gets really—”

“dark.” natasha finished again.

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. natasha knew exactly what you’d meant.

over the next few weeks, the habit of drawing became something natasha couldn’t ignore.

on long missions, you’d often scribble quietly in a corner. at meeting briefings you’d doodle into the margins of notes. and once, she had sat beside you during a meeting when you’d wordlessly slid your journal towards her.

it was a sketch of her.

she was surprised, there was so much to look at. to unpack. she didn’t know whether to be impressed with how well you drew her or to be impressed with the way you’d captured her.

she didn’t how to place what it was; something vulnerable or strong, or both.

“you drew me.” she said softly.

you shrugged, a soft blush coating your cheeks.

“you’re interesting to draw.”

natasha smirked, she didn’t say anything, but she’d felt a small stir in her chest at your words.

then on you grew more comfortable with your sketches dedicated to your new muse.

it started off small—a simple sketch left on the table one morning before natasha had left for a solo mission. she’d found it tucked under her designated coffee mug. a doodle of a little black widow spider spinning on a web, with cartoonish eyes and a cute little bow on its head.

the detail was impressive, even for a quick piece, and at the bottom you’d written a small note.

thought your namesake could use a makeover. meet widow 2.0: terrifyingly adorable.

come back in one piece.

she smiled at your note, and without a word tucked the small piece of paper into her pocket.

after that, it became sort of a ritual. before a mission, whether it was long or short, you’d leave her something— sometimes a sketch of her infamous batons mid-strike, other times a miniature rendition of the team in cartoonish proportions.

there was one where you’d drawn a mini portrait of natasha smirking, with exaggerated sharp cheekbones and fierce eyes. the caption on it read,

don’t worry, i dialed down the intimidation factor…slightly.

they were ridiculous, but natasha loved it.

one day, natasha approached you in the common area, holding a new doodle you’d slipped into her jacket. it was a small portrait of her, but unlike the others, this one showed her more casual. more real. no weapons, no scowl, just her leaning with her arms crossed, a small smile playing on her lips.

she held it up with a raised brow. “you’ve been busy.”

you glanced up from your journal, a shy grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“you noticed.”

“i always notice,” she replied, and the warmth in her tone made your cheeks flush.

“just thought you could use the reminder,” you said, shrugging. “you’re more than just a fighter, you know.”

natasha stared at the drawing for a moment, something unreadable flickering in her expression. then she folded it carefully and slid it into the inside of her jacket pocket.

“thank you,” she said simply, but her voice carried the weight of everything she didn’t say.

other times, you’d hand her sketches directly, usually without ceremony. a scrap of paper passed her way while the team prepped gear, a folded corner of your journal you tore out just before a briefing.

they ranged from serious-battle-ready stances and sharp silhouettes to utterly absurd, like the one of natasha holding a massive sandwich, labeled

big hero energy.

and natasha kept every single one.

“you know you don’t have to keep these, right?” you teased her when you caught her slipping another into the pocket of her duffel bag.

“i want to,” she said without hesitation. “they’re like…good luck.”

you didn’t argue with her logic, but a small smile lingered on your lips as you turned back to your journal.

unbeknownst to you natasha had a growing collection of your sketches tucked away in her bedroom. a small metal tin, the kind where you gift holiday cookies in—where they’re carefully preserved.

she’d look at them sometimes. when nights were long or dark and life was too heavy, she’d pull one out and trace the lines with her fingers, remembering the way you handed it to her with that quiet, knowing smile.

eventually though, your art started to spill over the edges of your journal.

it became part of your rhythm together. a constant, quiet act of trust. but there were moments, especially in the middle of long missions, when you didn’t have your journal or anything to draw with.

it started as a joke.

one night during a stakeout, the boredom and restlessness started bubbling out of you, and you found yourself tapping your fingers against natasha’s arm.

she caught your arm mid-tap and raised and eyebrow.

“no journal today?” she asked, smirking.

“nope,” you replied, frowning as you remembered how much in a rush you were that you forgot your journal. you leaned against the wall with a sigh.

“guess you’ll have to entertain me instead.”

“or,” she said, producing a pen from one of her pockets, “you could make yourself useful.” she handed it to you with a playful glint in her eye.

you hesitated for a moment before taking the pen from her hands and uncapping it.

“don’t complain if i mess it up.” you warned, shifting closer.

“just try not to make me look ridiculous.” she said, but the slight curve of her lips said she didn’t really mind it.

after that drawing on natasha became the norm when under a circumstance that denied you paper.

on long flights you’d trace floral vines curling up her forearm, and she’d be asleep as it happened. and during long nights in safe houses you’d sketch constellations of the stars on the back of her hand.

natasha never washed them off until she really had to.

sometimes, you didn’t even ask anymore. you’d just give her a look and she’d extend her arm towards you, wordlessly inviting you to begin.

and as your pen traced her skin she’d sit still, occasionally glancing down to see the progress.

“what’s this one?” she whispered. you’d drawn a small sleeping wolf, curling under a moonlit sky along her bicep.

“strength.” you replied softly.

natasha didn’t say anything, but her eyes softened in a way that made your heart stutter.

your drawings become more than just a way to pass time. they became a language of their own. a way of grounding yourself, of tethering your anxious thoughts to something steady.

and natasha became part of that steadying force.

“do i ever get to draw on you?” she teased once.

“maybe,” you said leaning back to admire your work. “if you’re good.”

she chuckled, shaking her head. a quiet smile tugging at her lips.

it was a silent agreement between the two of you now. you’d find your solace in the lines you traced along her skin and she’d find hers in letting you.

[tazcrosblade]

I don't really know how to post this without sounding like a boot licker for the artificial intelligence, but here's my take on it. AI isn't going to really do anything for you that you couldn't do yourself. It doesn't have any access to information on the internet, in books, or in self-help books, that you couldn't also get access to. So in a way

number one: the AI provides a way to search and consolidate information that has become increasingly hard to do (try googling anything these days and all you get is AI generated results anyways).

Number 2: the ai, the internet, even Tumblr are just tools that you could use to find answers. Obviously if you're in a Mental Health situation, using AI rather than seeking professional help can be dangerous. Treating it like the be all end all of answers, especially for things like health or mental health, is so naive as to border on st*pid.

Number 3: you only get out of the AI what you put in, if you ask it for help it's just going to give you generic answers. But if you know how to use the AI as a tool, it can be useful.

Basically what I'm saying is telling the ai you are my therapist solve all my problems will only get you so far. But if you've ever tried, for example, taking all of the texts from a fight you're having with someone and plugging them into the AI and asking it to continue the conversation and give you different ways things could have been phrased or to summarize the issues into bullet points so you can more specifically focus on what's going on. Couples therapy in effect. I have found the AI to be extremely helpful as a neutral third party during conflict, almost like a mediator or a counselor. Sometimes phrasing your thoughts or breaking down what a person's telling you can be extremely difficult. The AIS we use are not general artificial intelligence they are large language models, the only thing they can do is talk and analyze text. Don't expect the AI to work like a therapist would work. Use it as a tool for, analyzing journal entries, breaking down a big long message someone has sent you into more manageable bites so you don't get overwhelmed by your personal emotional attachment to what's being said.

When my partner and I are having conflict I will often complain to the ai, and tell it to be brutally honest with me. It sometimes tells me the things that my partner is too shy to tell me, or I'm too self-centered to think for myself. And because it's coming from a computer, it's easier to take it for what it is which is just a single take on the situation.

Will the AI cure your depression? No.

Will the AI give you the same tips everyone gives you? Yes, literally that's what it's designed for

If you know how to use the AI to analyze a situation or generate a bunch of ideas, if you use the AI and prompt it to tell you the hard truth or to be critical of someone's actions or to give an explanation for why somebody might have done something, it can be a good tool to help guide some of your thoughts and mental exploration of a situation.

AI is not a therapist. It is not trained. Any information it gives is suspect.

But that doesn't mean as a data analysis tool, a stand-in for the person you're having an argument for, or a straw man to help run potential arguments past (while telling it to be rude short or selfish in its responses) can be a good therapy style tool for people who may not be able to afford professional help, but feel as though they need assistance in unpacking their own thoughts or phrasing things in a certain way or understanding something somebody is telling them.

guys. please

[unacknowledgeable]

Continued: Serial killer reader x yan!batfam

.........Ooooookay, I guess yall really liked my serial killer!reader? I guess I'm honor bound to continue??? Oh noooo, the horrorrrr. But seriously, I'm glad! Because it only gets worse from here! >:}

Anyway, this was really difficult to write because I literally could not find good starting and stopping points, I tried to make my thoughts flow into each other as seamlessly as possible but there's SO MUCH I wanna write for this, it’s eating me alive, (also like, feel free to send asks bc I get sidetracked a lot in my writing and looove just answering questions as jumping off points, so please gimme gimme)

That being said, enjoy!

WARNING for disturbing imagery, untreated mental illness and trauma, blood, and depictions of murder (seriously)

So obviously, this M/c is a serial killer, so how do they go about keeping this hidden while simultaneously living with the world's greatest detectives?

Simple, ya don't.

Okay so that's not completely true. Compared to the average criminal, you put in a lot of effort to not get caught, but the average criminal doesn’t live with THE Batman either

Compared to the rest of your family though? You basically put in the bare minimum required to hide your… unsavory activities

Of course, you'll wash your blood soaked clothes yourself, in the lesser used washrooms of the manor, but once in a blue moon, when you’re too tired to care or your catch of the night put up a greater fight then anticipated, you'll throw your tainted clothes in with the rest of the families

And they just… don't fucking notice.

Or when they do, they just assume that one of the others had an unfortunate run in with some criminal while in civvies 

You've overheard many admonishments from Dick or Alfred over the years, telling Tim or Jason to “Please stop putting bloody clothes in with the whites, there's a basket for them two feet away!”

It was always pretty hard trying to keep a straight face when hearing those scoldings, but you always did, you didn't want Damian demanding to know what was so funny and dampening your mood

Or Cass giving you one of her calculated looks and suddenly getting nosy, that would make losing your clothes to Tim’s closet a lot less worth the laugh.

It’s just that, this assumption is waaaaay more plausible then say, the serial killer they've been tracking relentlessly for literal years, is just…tossing their VERY incriminating evidence in with the family's laundry, then passing out on some couch in one of the many sitting rooms of the manor, while the family goes out and discovers their latest victim

It's just easier to assume it was one of the others, Dick would never connect you, of all people, to the gore tossed haphazardly in the hamper, it's way more likely to be one of the many crime fighters of the family, not the soft spoken hermit of the manor, and even if that was a possibility in his mind, you don't even have a scratch on you

Not that he’s ever bothered to check you for injuries before, like he does almost religiously for the others

And Alfred? Well he's of the belief you'd grown out of your… tendencies, that it was a one time thing. Despite his reputation as an omnipotent presence in the manor, he never did realize just how deep your mental issues ran. Not until it was far too late.

You don't even have a specific weapon either, half of the time you'll just take one of Alfred's steak knives and hit the lower levels of Gotham, wandering around the decrepit streets till you found someone suitable 

Other times, when you’re in an exceptionally bad mood, be it because Damian said something particularly venomous or Alfred missing an important event for you because something came up with one of your siblings, or even when your classmates decided it would be funny to key your car-

Or it's just one of those days

Those days when the abstract voices simmer louder in the back of your mind, pushing and nagging. Images that you desperately want to forget but can't help the need to recreate. All threatening to boil over until you either crumble into a sobbing heep on the floor or go out and do the one thing that has always been able to shut. them. up.

Those days you’re… forgetful

On those days, you forget to grab one of Alfred’s pristine knives, but that's fine, Gothams streets are littered with dangerous items, so there's no shortage of tools at your disposal. You're creative, resourceful, you can use whatever's on hand at the time, whatever's in reach.

But if there's nothing? No sharp objects, no discarded bricks or loose pipes or even a half empty beer bottle, well… you're no stranger getting your hands dirty

Those times however, are pretty hazy in the aftermath.

You’ll forget certain details, like how they gripped your arms in a vain attempt to draw your own blood as you drew theirs, in the event that if they dont get away, at least you'd be caught, (all it leaves are dark, tender bruises along your arms, that you'll spend weeks poking and prodding at, in the hopes of reliving that moment)

Or how they'd flail their legs, inches from the ground, trying to kick your legs out from beneath you (it was kinda cute, how much shorter they were then you, how little their attempts to free themselves did when it mattered the most)

Even their last, warbling pleas for mercy were lost to you. You know they said something, could vaguely recall that they spoke, too absorbed in watching their bloody lips turn blue as the oxygen in their body slowly ran out (No no please please…My girls are waiting)

No, no you don't remember much but what you do remember, what you always, always remember, are the eyes 

You remember the tears, the fear, the acceptance, the rage, the refusal, the disbelief, the confusion, the indignation, and most of all the recognition. 

Whether it be them recognizing just who you are or realizing that this is who will end their life, you don't know, you’ve never bothered to ask. 

You prefer to think it’s the latter, it's hard to explain, but it makes you feel so so important

When it’s over, and the adrenaline in your veins soften, your breathing calmer, the blood rushing through your ears no longer so deafening, and you can feel the pleasing ache in your limbs, you sit, and asses the damage, as you always do

You always make sure to grab their wallet, take out the ID and memorize it, before gingerly putting it back, and finally walking away, head clear and numb in the cold Gotham air

There's no real reason why, its mostly force of habit at this point, it started with your very first kill, you don't feel like breaking the little ritual now, or anytime soon

It just feels wrong, to take a life and not even know whose life it is...was.

Later, long past any reasonable hour, you lay in bed, fresh out of the shower and thumbing the bruises, listening to the voices over the family's communicators (you stole one of Dicks, he has a nasty habit of leaving them around the manor) as they patrol the Gotham streets for crime and mayhem

You honestly can't help the small smile that graces your face, falling into sleep, as you hear the quiet, defeated sigh over the highly protected com link, “B, I've found another one, it's…it’s pretty rough tonight”

The pause is long before a small, gruff, “I have your location, ETA in 10 minutes”

You slept pretty good that night

Damn, sometimes the shit I come up with scares even me, again, feel free to send asks (shh I'm not begging), the brain worms are always hungry and I have sooooo many thoughts about this thing. lol 

Hope you enjoyed!

[yoitsjay]

Hey I absolutely LOVE you…….(r) writing style. Do/Can you make a fic about what makes BatBoys feel like “home” with reader? Like relationship wise. If this doesn’t make sense I’m sorry, this m first time making a request 😭✌️. Ty's!

No it makes sense! Thank you for the request!

Like Home

Summary: How you're the batboys home.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Bruce Wayne:

To Bruce Wayne, home isn't a place. Its you.

Typically Bruce is wary of genuine, committed relationships, his kids definitely warned him about people dating him just for his money, but when he met you, right off the bat you were so different.

From the moment you rushed to pay for dinner before Bruce could was the moment he knew he wanted you.

Home to Bruce is waking up in the morning with you still fast asleep in his arms, lips parted slightly as soft snores escape your lips. Home to him is holding you from behind as you cook breakfast for everyone instead of Alfred.

Home to him is holding you close as he- (we won't finish that sentence)

you, and all the things you do, big or small, mean the world to him, and he wants things to stay like this forever…

Dick Grayson:

Home to Dick Grayson is freedom, or it was until he met you.

He had bumped into you in a coffee shop and you were in a pretty heated argument with one of the other patrons there, defending an elderly lady who was only just trying to buy coffee.

When the guy had raised his hand to you, Dick was about to step in and stop the fight, only to see you deflect the blow, twist the mans wrist and pin him to the wall within seconds.

After that he had to ask for your number.

Then on patrol the following evening, a new hero arrived in gotham, someone oddly familiar to him.

You and Dick started working together on patrol, and in person too, since you had been one of the new interns at Wayne Enterprises, so it was a good excuse to see you more often. Though you both had no idea about each others identities until one really rough battle… and to make a long story short you ended up in his apartment, kissing him when you had accidentally knocked his mask off.

“Dick!?”

You ended up revealing yourself that night, too, and after that, you and Dick started dating. Being with you, fighting alongside you, and cherishing freedom quickly changed to cherishing you, wanting you to be his forever. You became something he wanted to come back to alive every night… and that was good enough for him.

Jason Todd:

You had always been his home. From the moment you met Jason as kids, he always loved you, cared for you, and you did the same.

When he died you were broken, you mourned for who knows how long, and everyone knew that your spark had died along with Jason.

When he came back, you were stunned.

You had just gotten home from work, and noticed your living room window wide open, and in the room itself stood a large man.

You wasted no time in attacking. Jason and you trained together as kids, and after his death you continued training under Bruce and Dick, so you liked to think you were pretty good.

But for some reason your intruder wasnt hitting you back.

He only fell to his knees and he hugged your waist tightly.

“I’m home- im home- im so sorry-” He whispered, and you froze.

“Jason…?”

“Im home baby, im not leavin’ you again”

you both cried, for a while probably, but despite the tears, the trauma he revealed to you, you did nothing but comfort and love him, and hold him close as he cried into your chest about how much he missed you.

he found his home in you a long time ago… “If only i hadnt been so reckless, i would have never lost you-”

“you didnt lose me Jason, ive been here, waiting for the time i could see you again… it came alot sooner… Screw you Thalia Al Ghul, and thank you for bringing my Jason back to me”

Tim Drake:

You had Tim had been dating for a few years at this point, it had been more on the arranged side, Your father and Bruce were really close friends, and they had agreed after finding out that you and Tim were the same age and both single, that you two had to at least meet, and talk and get to know each other.

You agreed, Tim was more reluctant.

Turns out you and him were already friends. You had been close in High School, though you both never revealed much about your family lives, so being rich in Gotham kind of flew under the radar.

You and Tim both laughed about it over lunch, though in that time you really started to get to know each other. Had you always been so beautiful?

After a little bit, he asked you out officially. You said yes, and your relationship evolved into something he couldn't ever give up. Similar to Bruce, he found comfort in the littlest things. The way you held him ran your fingers through his hair and made his shoulders sag in relaxation. That was home to him.

Damian Wayne:

Damian Wayne hated you.

he despised you, and you had no idea why.

You were Alfred’s niece, and after your parents had died you had come to gotham to stay with Alfred since he had become your legal guardian.

You tried to mind your own business, you helped alfred clean, became a maid of sorts to earn your keep, even though Bruce, more than once assured you that you didnt need to worry. You still did.

Damian took advantage of that and took advantage of the whole maid aspect, you did a lot for that guy and yet, he despised you.

Then he found out that you had been asked out on a date by someone from Gotham Academy, a school you both went too.

“You’re not allowed.”

Damian stated as he walked up to you in the manor, and you looked over from where you were cleaning. “Huh?” You questioned, unsure as to what he was talking about.

“Your not allowed to go on a date with that child. Your my girlfriend now.” Damian stated, and your eyes went wide.

You kinda… just couldnt say no.

after that Damian started treating you a lot nicer, he did a lot of small things for you, payed attention to the things you looked at or liked, and more often then not, the same item would be on your bed.

he found comfort in the things you did for him, and you had no idea, but he treated you like dog shit because of his fat crush on you.

what… The… fuck.

Tag list:

All: @only-my-unexistent-fiances @francesfarhadi

Batfam:

Bruce Wayne: @ilaiise

Dick Grayson: @ilaiise

Jason Todd: @ilaiise

Tim Drake: @ilaiise

Damian Wayne: @ilaiise

[misotsukiiyeooo]

Pretty Princess

Pairing: Dad! Kim Mingyu x Mom!F! reader

A/N: Guys idk what was going through my head when I made this. (Not proofread sorryyyy)

Genre: Fluff + Crack

Word count: 16.1k

Synopsis: Mingyu's dressed as a pretty princess? who knew you teasing him would lead to the tables turning later?

It was a Saturday afternoon, and you were in the kitchen making dinner while Mingyu played with your daughter, Eunseo, in her room.

Their giggles and laughter echoed throughout the house, piquing your curiosity about what was happening. As their laughter grew louder, a smile crept onto your face; it was one of your favorite sounds.

While you continued cooking, you could hear their feet tapping on the floor, the sound increasing in volume until they both appeared in the kitchen.

“Mommy, Mommy! Look, Daddy's a princess!” Eunseo giggled as she pointed at Mingyu.

He wore several pink hair clips and bows, complemented by glittery eye makeup. He looked adorable, even in the tight princess dress that he had somehow managed to pull just above his forearms.

You laughed along with Eunseo. “He does look like a princess! Wait, let me take a picture!” You took out your phone and focused on Mingyu, whose cheeks were tinted pink.

He rolled his eyes, crossed his muscular arms, and unintentionally tore the dress. Seeing Eunseo's expression, you quickly stifled your grin.

“Daddy…you’re too strong for my dress,” she sighed, causing you to chuckle.

“I’m sorry, Princess. I’ll buy you ten more tomorrow, okay?” Mingyu held up ten fingers, causing Eunseo to smile happily and nod her head.

“Deal! Now Mommy, take a picture!” Eunseo jumped around excitedly.

You pointed your camera at Mingyu. “Gyu, strike a pose!” you smiled.

Mingyu obliged and struck a dramatic pose, putting one hand on his hip while blowing a kiss to the camera as if he were on a runway.

The kitchen lights made his glittery eyes shimmer. “You’re a natural!” you laughed hysterically, and Eunseo agreed.

Mingyu’s smirk grew into a smile as he heard you both laughing. He loved making both you and Eunseo laugh, especially at the same time. He knew he looked ridiculous, but he didn’t care if it meant bringing joy to his two girls.

Eunseo continued to bounce around him, giggling loudly as she watched her dad make silly faces. She was having the time of her life.

You put your phone down and walked closer to him to admire the makeup. “This makeup is so pretty, Eunseo! You did an amazing job!” you praised, giggling as you wiped a bit of smeared lipstick from his face.

Eunseo puffed out her chest with pride, clearly happy with your compliments about her makeup skills. “I know! I used my favorite colors for Daddy!”

Mingyu sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Oh, I see! But can you both make sure you’re cleaned up before dinner is finished?” you asked Eunseo.

Eunseo pouted a little, not wanting the fun to end just yet, but she nodded and grabbed Mingyu's hand, tugging him toward the bathroom.

“Okay, Mommy! Come on, Daddy, let’s go clean up!” Mingyu chuckled and followed her into the bathroom.

You smiled softly at the sight of your little daughter bossing around your tall husband. You took one last photo of him, wanting to capture the back of the dress that was torn, before returning to your cooking.

A few minutes later, they emerged with Mingyu's hair all messy from taking out the hair clips and most of his makeup gone. His face was still very glittery, though.

You walked up to him with a smile, standing on your tiptoes to reach his hair and try to fix it. "Aww, Gyu. Your hair's all messy and cute."

Mingyu chuckled softly as you attempted to tame his wild hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him and helping you maintain your balance.

"Well, Eunseo is a mini you, so I'm not surprised," he teased. He then leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, still grinning at you.

"I guess you're right," you replied with a grin, caressing his cheek with your thumb in an attempt to rub off the glitter. "I see that not everything came off…"

Mingyu closed his eyes for a moment as he hummed softly. "You know how stubborn glitter is. It’s going to take more than just a bit of rubbing to get it off," he teased again.

Eunseo had been watching the two of you, giggling to herself as she observed the playful banter. Suddenly, she tapped your leg.

"Hmm? Yes, Eunseo?" you turned to face her adorable little self.

She looked up at you with her big, innocent eyes, a mischievous glint sparking in her gaze.

"Can I do your hair next, Mommy?" Eunseo asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes at you.

"Oh, um…" You glanced at Mingyu, nervously seeking his support, before turning back to Eunseo. "Sure… of course you can do my hair, baby."

Mingyu chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by how the tables had turned. He was eager to see what hairstyle she would choose for you.

"This should be interesting," he whispered so only you could hear.

"Don't remind me," you replied, just as Eunseo happily tugged you away.

Mingyu laughed again, as he could already imagine what Eunseo would do to you. He couldn't wait to finally have something to tease you about.

Mingyu's jaw dropped as he saw you, completely taken aback by your new appearance.

You looked adorable with your messy hair adorned with a princess tiara and glittery makeup.

He had to bite his lip to hold back his laughter, his eyes widening as he looked you up and down. You were now wearing a purple dress that matched the tiara.

“Oh my God…” Mingyu muttered, a smirk returning to his face as he tried to suppress his chuckle.

“She looks so pretty! Right, Daddy?” Eunseo asked excitedly.

Mingyu nodded quickly, unable to deny that you indeed looked pretty. He was just struggling to keep a straight face, his lips twitching.

“Y-yeah…” he managed to say, his voice slightly shaky as he tried to maintain his composure.

“Laugh all you want now… I still have the photo of you,” you mouthed to him with a glare.

Mingyu’s eyes widened slightly as he read your lips, and he stood there in silence.

“Daddy, take a picture of Mommy now! Mommy looks more like a pretty princess than you did.” Eunseo smiled as your eyes widened in surprise.

Mingyu grinned, slightly taken aback by Eunseo’s comment, but taking a photo of you, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate it—he could never pass up an opportunity like this.

“That’s a great idea, sweetheart!” he said mischievously as he reached for his phone.

"Maybe Daddy can take the photos later, Eunseo?" You try your best to avoid having Mingyu take a picture of you.

Eunseo looked up at you with a pout. "But Mommy…" she whined.

You sighed in defeat, giving in once again. "Fine, just one photo…"

Eunseo's face lit up with excitement as she jumped up and down. "Yay! One photo, Mommy!"

Mingyu laughed, watching the two of you with a smug smile on his face. He knew he had won this round.

Mingyu met your glare with an innocent smile, pretending to be oblivious to your annoyance. He was enjoying this way too much.

"What? You agreed to it, love," he teased, holding out his phone and preparing to take the picture.

"Smile, Mommy!" Eunseo requests. Mingyu loved how excited Eunseo was to have this photo taken, he was looking forward to seeing your forced smile.

"Yeah, smile for the camera, Princess." He playfully used your new nickname against you.

You sighed once more, giving a strained smile.

Mingyu snapped the picture, clearly pleased with the expression on your face. He looked down at the photo on his phone, admiring your strained smile and messy hair.

"Oh, that's perfect," he said with a smirk, showing the photo to Eunseo.

"I'm going to check on dinner," you said, walking away toward the kitchen.

Mingyu watched as you walked away, then put his phone away and followed you into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as you began to check on the food.

"You look adorable when you're mad, Princess," he teased, resting his chin on your shoulder while holding you close.

Mingyu knew you weren't in the mood to respond to his teasing, but he didn't mind. He thought it was cute when you pouted and didn’t talk to him.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses against your skin.

"This cute act you're putting on isn’t going to work," you finally replied.

He pulled away from your neck and rested his chin on your shoulder again. "Who said I was trying to work anything? I'm just giving my lovely wife some affection."

“Mhm.” You scoffed before turning to face him. “Could you watch the food while I take this off?”

Mingyu pouted playfully as you turned to him, reluctantly releasing his hold on your waist. He wanted to keep holding you, but he knew he had to follow your request.

“Fine, fine. I’ll watch the food,” he said with a sigh.

“Thank you~,” you replied sweetly, hugging him as you discreetly pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Mingyu was caught off guard as you suddenly hugged him. he wasn’t expecting you to be so affectionate after your previous annoyance.

He wrapped his arms around you returning a hug and pulling you closer to him. He didn’t notice as you slipped his phone out of his pocket, too distracted by the feeling of having you in his arms.

You take the phone and walk away to the room to "change," leaving him oblivious.

Eunseo walks into the kitchen and tugs on Mingyu's pants. "Daddy, can I play a game on your phone?"

Mingyu looks down at Eunseo, a smile forming on his face at her request. "Sure, sweetheart, but let me unlock it first," he replies, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone.

He frowns when he realizes it isn't there, patting his pockets in confusion.

You quickly walk away into the bedroom, giggling.

Mingyu looks up as he hears you giggle, a puzzled expression crossing his face. He looks down at Eunseo again, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Where is Mommy, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Mommy is in the room," she replies, pointing toward the bedroom door.

Mingyu follows Eunseo's gaze toward the bedroom. "I see…" he mutters, gently ruffling Eunseo's hair before making his way toward the bedroom.

You quickly put his phone under your lap as you hear him open the door.

Mingyu enters the bedroom and his eyes immediately fall on you. He notices how you quickly put something down under your lap, and his suspicions grow.

"What are you hiding, love?" he asks.

"Nothing! I was just taking these clips and my tiara out of my hair," you say, feigning innocence.

Mingyu looks at you skeptically, clearly not buying your excuse. He sits down on the bed next to you, his eyes fixed on the lump under your thigh.

“Oh really? Then why are you so defensive?” he asks, leaning closer and placing a hand on your thigh.

“Me? Defensive? Never,” you reply, crossing your arms.

He smiles, amused by your stubbornness. He knew you were trying to hide something, and he found it endearing how hard you were working to deny it.

He reaches over, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his lap, so you are straddling him. He wraps his arms around your waist, trapping you against him and preventing you from getting away.

“Hey!” you yelp, giggling as you stretch your arms out, holding the unlocked phone above your head.

Mingyu looks at you in disbelief as he notices the photo he took of you earlier displayed on the screen.

“Give it back,” he pleads.

“Not until I delete this photo!” you laugh, stretching your arm out as far as possible, just out of his reach.

“And why do you want to delete it so badly, hm? I thought you looked cute in it,” he teased, his hands slowly moving up your body in an attempt to distract you.

“Cute? Don’t lie to me,” you retorted, unaware of his true intentions.

Mingyu laughed, clearly amused by your sassy response. He knew you were getting defensive, and he was enjoying it.

“I’m not lying, love. I genuinely think you look cute in that photo, even with that strained smile on your face.”

“Nope! I need to delete it!” You held the phone above your head, fully aware that one wrong move would allow him to take it from you.

He knew that you were serious about deleting the photo, but he wasn’t going to give up that easily. He suddenly shifted his grip on your hips, flipping you over so that you were underneath him on the bed.

"You think you can hide it from me? We both know I'm stronger than you."

Your eyes widen in shock as everything happens so fast. You quickly squirm, trying to grab the phone before it falls onto the bed. You do your best to reach it before he does.

Mingyu holds both of your wrists with one hand as his free one gets ahold of the phone.

"Hey! That's not fair! Give me that!" You reach for his phone.

"No can do, love. You had your chance but you failed." He grins cheekily.

"But the photo…" You sigh, giving up hope that he will let his guard down. "Fine…"

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, surprised by your change in attitude. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

He loosens his grip on your wrist but keeps hold of his phone to ensure you don't delete the photo.

You sit up on the bed quietly, and he watches you, his gaze locked on your face as he tries to figure out what you're planning.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice low and curious.

"Nothing…" you respond dismissively.

Mingyu tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I know you're up to something…" He squints at you, skeptical.

"Nope, not at all…" You glance at his phone.

Noticing the direction of your gaze, he smiles and waves the phone in front of you. "Ah, so you're still thinking about the photo. I thought you said you were done trying to get it back?"

"Did I say that?" you ask, tapping your chin as if contemplating.

He looks at you, confused. "Yes, you just did—"

Without warning, you quickly tackle him to the floor.

Mingyu lets out a surprised grunt as his back hits the ground with a thud. He hadn't expected you to be so quick.

"How did you—" He looks at you with pure confusion.

"Let me get that phone!" You finally manage to grab it.

Mingyu laughs as you take hold of the phone, his grip slipping. A playful glint shines in his eyes as he looks up at you from his position on the floor.

"I can't believe you tackled me for a phone…" he pouts.

"I had to! I can't let you keep this horrible photo," you reply.

He tries to grab the phone back, so you react quickly by tossing it toward the front door.

"Now that was dirty," he shakes his head at your tactics.

You quickly jump off Mingyu to retrieve the phone, but he grabs your legs, making you fall to the floor. "Hey!" you whine.

As you’re inches away from the phone, you hear the door unlock. Both of you look up to see Eunseo standing there.

She tilts her head at the sight of you two on the floor, with Mingyu holding onto your ankles.

"Daddy? Mommy? What are you doing?" she asks, obviously confused.

"Eunseo! Give Mommy the phone, okay?" you plead, stretching your hand to grab it.

Mingyu quickly responds, "No, Eunseo, pass it to me, please?"

Eunseo looks between you and Mingyu, her eyes darting from the phone to your face. She looks unsure, not wanting to get involved in whatever was happening between you two.

She thinks for a moment, then says, "But Mommy, I asked Daddy to play on his phone first. You can get it after, okay? I promise." She grabs the phone, walks out of the room, and leaves you both in disbelief.

Mingyu is completely stunned by Eunseo's betrayal. "She's supposed to be on my side…"

You let out a tired laugh, realizing how childish this all was. "I can't believe we did all that just for her to end up with the phone…"

Mingyu also chuckles wearily, letting go of your ankles. "I know… she won the fight without even trying, huh?" He catches his breath.

You nod, "She didn't even have to do anything. She just stood there and looked cute." You shake your head.

He looks back at you, grinning, "Well, on the bright side, at least I still have that photo of you."

"Don't forget, I also have the photo of you, pretty princess," you laugh.

"Damn it, I can't believe I let you take a picture of me like that," he mutters.

You get closer to him, crawling onto his lap. "You did it because you love me too much."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not so sure now after that tackle stunt you pulled," he says playfully.

"Hey!" You hit his chest playfully, laughing along with him.

Reqs are open!!

Taglist!!

@wonunonu @hanniehae-yoon @jjunie-0 @minminghao @honglynights @bath1lda @allieyaaa

[rensukepie]

꫶ུ⃛ᰭ “…is we fuckin’ or what?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— r. s

mdni!!!

ryusei just won’t let you study! that is, until he fucks you dumb.

contains : shidou’s a little FREAKKK, fem reader, size kink (kinda), perv shidou, nerdy reader :3, established relationship, dumbification, tongue kissing, p in v, he reallyyyy likes your boobs, nipple play, squirting, cunnilingus, fingering, pet names (angel, pretty, etc…), shidou’s kinda mean :;;((!, aftercare ofc!

nsfw under the cut

you need to pass this class.

you firmly believe your stupid lecturer is on your ass! always targeting you and you only is actually his profession you think to yourself, but that’s not the point right now.

the point is that you need to study for the upcoming test, otherwise your lecturer is gonna be yapping to you and targeting you once more.

you check your notes and look over at the concepts you had learned, until you hear his keys jingling and the door opening to your shared apartment with shidou.

you continue to check your notes and he comes inside of the room, giving you a quick kiss and holding you from behind the chair you were sitting on.

“what’cha doing angel?” he asks with genuine curiosity, planting a kiss on your neck.

“studying for my test, why?”

“yer such a fucking nerd… that seems so boring!” he says, getting a little more touchy with you with his big hands roaming your body.

“i like this little tank top you’ve got here… your tits look s’pretty… so soft…” he admits, his warm tongue circling your nipples.

“r-ryu…!! not right now… i wanna pass this test.. we can after…” you whimper, a wet spot forming in the middle of your panties due to him touching you in your most sensitive places and his words just got you so wet! yeah, you wanted to pass the test, but you’ve been so needy for him all week! your hands between your thighs wishing it was your boyfriends fingers instead of your own.

“c’mon pretty… jus’ wanna have some fun with you… missed you by the way….” he says before kissing your soft lips with need.

“mmf… r-ryusei… wan’ you sooo bad… missed you too…so much…” you whine, pulling him to the bed.

oh he swears that your whimpers alone can make him cum.

…

“r-ryu!! stop teasing me—mmm…!!” you pout, yearning for more of him.

he’s got his fingers on your clothed cunt while his tongue is licking and sucking your nipples, his big, burly fingers circling your clit very slowly.

“you needy girl… so greedy f’more, hm?” he teases once more before moving down to kiss you all over, his hands on your hips.

he reaches down to your slit and teases you about how needy you are before giving a kiss to the wet spot and taking your panties off, practically drooling at the sight of it.

“so wet… and it’s all f’me, right angel?” he coos at you before inserting his middle and ring finger inside of your gummy walls and licking your at clit.

“m—mhm…! all for you ryu….haah—“ that familiar sensation in your stomach is building up and your whimpers are getting louder and your cunt is getting more soaked.

everything he does makes your brain feel so fuzzy in the moment. all you can whine and babble about is his name! he’s really got you dumb on his fingers and tongue!

“yer gonna cum soon aren’t you? can feel yer cunt squeezing my fingers, pretty…” he coos into your pussy, like you could understand any of his words right now. “it’s a shame you can’t understand me right now though… yer body’s so sensitive…”

“r—ryu!! m’gonna cum… cumm—mmf..!!” you moan as your orgasm washes over you, your fluids everywhere on his arm and fingers.

“aww…. you needy girl…” he laughs before going up to kiss you all over your boobs again.

…

his cock makes you really, really dumb! rubbing it back and forth on your slit now coated with his pre before actually putting it in makes your brain all fuzzy.

“going dumb on my cock now, hm? haven’t even put it in yet, silly girl….”

“ryu…. you’re so mean….haah—…” you pout, but not for long before he puts his whole cock inside of you.

“mm!! ryusei—! s—so big… mmf… s’gonna break me…” you babble, digging and scratching your nails into his muscular back.

he thinks it’s so cute when you get like this! you’re just so pretty whining about how big his cock is.

“ryuuu….! m’gonna cum again! pleaseeee…”

how can he deny such a request from a pretty girl like you?

“mmff… im gonna cum too, baby… cum f’me..”

….

“you okay, angel? did i go too rough?” he says, grabbing you a water bottle.

“no… i liked it actually..” you admit, blush on your face.

“y’know.. you still got yer test you gotta study for..”

“ryu!”

[ghostmoon1]

heard you were taking requests! Was wondering if you could do anything about Ghost x shy reader? maybe something about them being shy towards each other...that would be so cute, thank you!!

Hello anon!!

Sorry for taking so long to answer, motivation has been biting my ass lately, but I wanted to get this done for you!! If you want me to add more to it, feel free to request more, I love getting requests!! You have no idea how big of a smile I get seeing a notif pop up in my inbox!! Anyway, here I have a bit for you!! Enjoy <3

Ghost x Shy!Reader

Ghost struggles with physical affection, in some way or another. Not so much when you are alone- but when he’s around others. If anything, he’s shy about it. He wants nothing more than to give you the biggest hugs in public and kiss you like nobody is watching, but he's practically scared. He doesn’t care if others see, but what about you? Is that something you want? He will give you a small peck on the cheek in public, if you are lucky a peck on the lips. As soon as the blush creeps onto your cheeks, he suddenly feels his cheeks become warmer, unable to pull his eyes away from yours as he adores you for a moment before looking away all flustered, embarrassed and awkward. Who knew a sweet doll like yourself could do this to a man like Simon Riley?

He knows how often you would love to ask for something, even if it's small. He usually watches as you have an internal battle with yourself, bouncing back and forth between the idea of actually asking him or just letting it slide and dealing with it. So, whenever you're both out shopping and he watches your eyes drawn to this one plushie over and over, opening your mouth to speak but clamping it shut seconds later, he knows what he has to do. Without a word he reaches past your shoulder, grabs the stuffed toy and places it in the basket, smiling underneath his mask as you stutter in surprise, trying to convince him that it’s not needed weakly. He cuts you off, fingers gently taking your chin and lifting your head to look into his eyes, “I saw you eyeing it off doll, we’re getting it,” is all he says before strolling through the isles once again, leaving you a blushing mess until you scramble to catch up with him. You just can’t see the small amount of blush that has blossomed over his cheeks, flustered and giddy inside after seeing your reaction.

At home, when you both are snuggled up on the couch together watching a movie, he takes the opportunity to see you blush even more than he usually does. He pulls you slightly closer, letting out a long sigh as he admires you for a moment. He lifts your chin for a kiss, lips melting against yours as he savours everything about you. “You're beautiful…” he starts, peppering kisses over your face and relishing in the way you giggle and blush. “Just gorgeous… I could play with your hair all day,” he continues, sweeping a hand through your hair to prove his point. He thrives in way that you blush, trying to bury your face back into his chest, only for him to continue his array of compliments, seeing his perfect doll go all red and embarrassed.

Don’t start with how he treats you at takeout and restaurants. He doesn’t need his darling partner feeling a lil nervous about ordering their food! He holds your hand securely the whole time, leaning down to murmur in your ear, asking you what you’d like. The price? Don’t even look at that doll, he's got it covered. You’re not hungry? He’ll buy extra for himself so you can pick a few things off his plate. He orders with, well what you could call pride. He’s ordering for his wife/husband. His future wife/husband. If you both go to your usual place, he knows your order off by heart, even the small changes that you get that no one else would normally think of. He’s got you covered doll.

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Extra

@night-fall-moon gave me the tiniest push so here we are! Aside, look at this young Sevika art.

Hardheads

Summary: Background into how you got your fighting style. Specifically, some important moments in time where you had a woman of incredible loyalty right beside you.

You held the dart between your fingers. Short and chubby as they were wrapped around the steel. You let out a small grunt as you threw it.

“Good job, my dear,” your uncle praised.

The dart was just a bit below the red center ring, near the middle of the single rings.

He adjusted your position on his shoulder. “You’re getting better,” he said.

You reached for the darts. You collected the four you’d thrown. All of them crammed in your small hands.

“Before you know it, they’ll be beating your streak, Sevika.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your head whipped around to the woman. She’d always been a bit of a mystery to you. You didn’t know really anything about her. Well, other than the fact that she was tall and her voice was nice to listen to and she was really pretty.

A chuckle came from the woman causing you to smile. “I think it’ll be a while but whatever you say, boss man.”

You pulled lightly on the hair that was tied up at the base of your uncle’s head. “Again!” you insisted.

He smiled and walked back to where he had been. You threw one dart. It hit the singles. Your second was in the doubles. Your third was down in the singles again. You grunted to yourself.

“Keep your elbow more leveled,” Sevika told you from her seat where she was shuffling cards.

You looked over at her. Her hands moved fast and dexterous. Practiced motions made the cards slide from hand to hand. She handed out cards with a grace and ease.

Her hand brought her drink up to her mouth. The black of her lipstick rubbed off on her mug. Her eyes ran over the cards in her hands. Then they flickered up and met yours.

She glanced at the board and then back at you.

You breathed out of your mouth, slow and steady. Your teeth pulled at your lip and your brow furrowed. You took a moment and tried to run through your throw. You did it once, twice, three, four times. You continued until you felt like you headed her words.

With your elbow more leveled, you released the dart from your fingers. Time seemed to slow as it sped through the air. Anxiety gripped your heart and held it tight. The breath seemed to be stolen from your lungs.

You screamed and your arms went up in the air. Your uncle nearly dropped you due to your sudden movement and sound so close to his ear. He caught you with your body now pointed towards Sevika.

“Did you see?! Did you see?!” you asked her.

“Yeah, good job, kid,” she said as she reached out and patted your shoulder before she put her attention on her cards again.

You squealed and spun around in your uncle’s arms so he was cradling. Your legs kicked in excitement.

“I got a bullseye, Uncle Sil!” you yelled for the whole bar to hear.

“Yes, you did. I’m proud,” he told you as he adjusted his grip on you to be something more secure.

Several people, your parents and other uncle included, crowded around to see what the four year old’s first bullseye. Barely able to be considered but just inside the red ring enough.

The Last Drop was more empty now than it ever had been. You were one of the four people inside the public area.

You kept throwing darts and missing. You should be doing better than this but your mind was going wild. It was racing and you couldn’t keep up. So many thoughts going through your head and you had no idea where to start.

“Hey, kid,” a familiar, smoked voice said, “can I join you?”

You looked over and saw Sevika. Her hair all down to her shoulders now when it used to go past them. Her face was devoid of any of her usual makeup. Several shallow cuts on her face were likely the reason why.

It’d been only two days since everything that happened. The cuts were already scabbed over how but the few bruises you could see peaking out of her clothing weren’t fairing nearly as well.

You handed a dart off to her. She threw it. It landed in the triple ring. Despite not preforming to her normal standard, she was still doing better than you. Most of yours were in the singe rings

Neither of you said anything for a while. The bar was silent. Not even a song came through on the jutebox. No hushed conversations. Just the sounds of darts being embedded into a board and the occasional clicking of something against glass.

It was an eerie silence that left you uneasy. It did nothing to help your racing thoughts.

“You can do better than that,” Sevika said when one of your darts landed in the white.

“So can you,” you fired back dryly.

She sighed in response. “Listen, kid, I—“

“I don’t want an apology,” a loud thunk, “or any sympathy,” another thunk, “or any of the meaningless words everyone’s been saying for the past two god forsaken fucking days!” a third think. “You can’t do or say anything—“ you walked towards the board and jerked out the darts— “that will make anything better so if you’re not going to say something useful just leave me alone.”

A hand was laid on your shoulder. Your head leaned forward as you slumped. Another thunk against the board.

“Come here, kid,” she said as she wrapped her arms around you.

Your head was guided into her shoulder. She was warm and steady. She smelled like smoke and alcohol. Your hands were limp at your sides but hers pressed you closer.

“Your parents were good people,” she told you. “They died fighting for the cause. You can’t surrender because they can’t fight anymore. You’ve got to stand up and fight harder. Piltover won’t know what hit them when you start fighting.”

“I don’t know how,” you admitted. “Without them I don’t know how to fight. It’s too much.”

“I’ll teach you,” she promised.

Your hands wrapped around her waist. You held onto her like a lifeline.

“Patience is one of the most important things in a fight,” Sevika said as the two of you circled each other. “If you move too fast you risk opening yourself up to vulnerabilities but if you move too slow you lose your opponent’s. Make sense?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let’s go again.”

The two of you circled around each other, hands at the defense. Neither of you moved for a long couple of moments. You simply watched one another.

Sevika took a step forward. You mimicked her. It didn’t take long for the two of you to go from several feet away to several inches.

She swung at you. You dunked down. You took the opening to punch at her torso, just below her ribs. She went back. You moved forward. She reached again. This time her hit got you upside the head.

You winced as you stumbled. The world was blurry for several seconds.

Sevika’s hands gripped your shirt and pulled you toward her. Her head reared back and then banged against yours. Your head pounded in agony as the world went back to nonsense.

She pushed you. You fell backwards.

“We’re gonna have to work on that too,” she said. “Make you a bit more hardheaded.”

You blinked several times before you were able to make out the dark figure of your mentor. Her hand was extended to you as she leaned down. Her hair blew ever so slightly in her face.

You grabbed her hand and allowed yourself to be hauled up.

“Or maybe you should let me do brain surgery on you and get out that metal in your skull,” you said.

She laughed as she threw her arm around you. “You’re funny, kid.”

[leonw4nter]

Lovers Rock

ChildhoodBFF!RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

Leon looks down at his analogue watch, sleek black leather buckled around his left wrist; the long hand points to a minute line a few digits away from the time he expects you to be ready, making him early. By the warm illumination of the porch lights, he catches his faint reflection in the watch’s slightly blurry glass. He’s anxious for the leap of faith he’s about to pull as soon as enough stars puncture the rich black sky, repeatedly running his hands through his once-flattened hair; he knows what to say: he’s dreamt and practiced for this moment but there’s never enough preparation to protect his heart from everything it could feel in that instant.

“Breathe, Leon.” He shuts his eyes, giving himself a moment to silence the ruckus in his mind. “You got this, you got this, you got this.” His hands nearly crush the bouquet of pink lilies in his hand, pale citrus wrapping paper creasing beneath clammy palms. Just as he raises his hand to give gentle knocks to your front door, it opens to the star-blessed sight of you in a brand-new dress and a dolled-up face, powders and shimmering tints framing your face in a charm beyond earthly bounds. You smell like strawberries and the scent he’d love to have on his pillows forevermore.

“What do you think?” You timidly ask him, accompanied with a little spin. Your skirt billows as if a magical breeze blew right through. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, absolutely stunned by your seraphic beauty.

“You look beautiful,” he exhales. “More than perfect.”

You look down at your dress as you smooth your skirt, beaming with pride. “Thank you, you look handsome too. Very charming, blue is definitely your color.”

He rubs the back of his neck, gaze averted to the wilted potted plant right by the ‘welcome’ rug. “Thanks, my… uh… other friends helped me… um… pick this out.”

His ears are blessed by the giggle of an angel and he internally grapples with himself to keep his composure. “You’re blushing so hard. You alright? I can go back to get you–”

“N-No! It’s… it’s fine, you’re just… you look exceptionally divine tonight.”

Nearly overtaken by his nerves, he damn near forgets to give you your flowers so he extends it over to you, hoping that the tremor of his grip isn’t obvious to you.

“I had the florist remove the stamen coz I know the pollen makes your eyes all itchy,” he adds. Long before he even gives you the almighty three-letter word, his eyes have spoken for him already as they look at you fondly.

“Thanks, Leon. It’s so beautiful,” you say in between pats to the petals. “You didn’t have to, seriously.”

“I just had to, you know. Pretty flowers for a pretty girl like you.”

You gently nudge him with your elbow, all smiley at his boyish antics, but he knows that you’re incredibly grateful for his kindness.

“We should head to the party,” he softly suggests. “There’s still time but it’ll be best if we go now so it won’t be as crowded.”

With an ‘okay’, you descend the porch steps and head to his car. He paces ahead of you a little faster, intending to open the door to your side for you.

“Ladies first,” he says with a boyish charisma.

“What a gentleman,” you retort once you’re all the way in. He walks around the vehicle, getting into his own side to start the car. Once you express that you’re all set in his passenger seat, he pulls away from the side of the road to take you both to a spring night’s party. Upon coming across a red light, he switches the radio to a station that’s known for playing love songs.

“Well if you want to make me cry,” you sing along. “That won’t be so hard to do.”

“And if you should go say goodbye, I’ll still go on loving you,” he joins you in singing.

“Each night I ask the stars up above,” he continues passionately. By this time, you’ve stopped singing to listen to him better. “Why must I be a teenager in love?”

“You’re 21, buddy. You’re past your teenage years, time to move on pal,” you jest which earns you a feigned look of irritation from the blond behind the wheel.

“Says the one who’s 3 months older than I am,” he sasses back. You must admit, he got you with that one.

The rest of the ride is full of mushy romantic songs and sing-alongs with the occasional childish teasing. How beautiful this kind of future is with her, Leon affectionately thinks to himself.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Just as Leon said, the university’s gymnasium wasn’t as full yet though there were some students seated on tables already. The middle space is void of anything to reserve space for the students who’ll crowd in for a dance later, the thought of which excites Leon– a tender moment between the two of you as he holds his palm open for your hand, whisking you to the dance floor with a feather-light touch as a slow song plays. He bites the inside of his cheek, restraining his smile for a considerable amount of time tonight. He looks back and doesn’t see you by his side, wondering where you’ve gone before he spots you laughing with some friends in the corner. Leon must’ve stared a little too intently because one of the girls gestures towards him, prompting you to turn around then ask him to come over.

“This is Leon, the childhood friend I’ve been talking to you guys about,” she proudly beams with her hand resting on his high shoulder. “He’s from the police academy a few minutes away but since outsiders are allowed, I decided to take him with me as a date.”

Your friends smile and eye him from head to toe, inspecting him thoroughly.

“I’m Leon. Leon Kennedy,” he says as he offers a handshake.

“He’s so nice,” one of them gushes. “Where do you get one of these?” She jokes.

“Just got lucky,” you shrug. “He’s been with me since I was 7– saw me go through every single phase and childhood crush.”

They ask a few more questions and Leon responds, multitasking on giving sensible answers and also hyperfocusing on the feel of your hand perched on his shoulder.

Conversations blend with the melodious jazz playing and the clinking of glasses. As the night unfolds, couples take to the polished gymnasium floors and share a dance to slow dance hits from the 1950s; hushed laughter mingles with the singing voices of Frank Sinatra, Dion and the Belmonts, and Doris Day, creating a surely romantic atmosphere and an undercurrent of charged tension between timid couples. Your skirt swishes here and there, adding a touch of elegance to the groovy movements of your body as you immerse yourself in the romantic sound of the era the songs are from; you’re not the best at dancing, considering yourself stiff at times, but Leon’s admiring gaze settles on you as a soft smile creases his eyes into joyful crescents; awe and longing occupies his chest, heart squeezing with each excited giggle that comes out of you. The room feels like it’s shrunk to fit just the two of you, to overwhelm him in your unfiltered divinity. 

You and Leon skip a few dances after moving about for several minutes without a break, out of breath from the dancing though you can’t resist but still groove to the song though your movements are more reserved. You and him sit side by side, shoulders touching as you watch other students sway along to the beat, hearts in Leon’s eyes as he fondly gazes on at you.

“How’s the night so far?” You wickedly grin.

“I guess I was wrong about even considering staying in,” he admits. “I’ve had a wonderful time, nothing short of dreamy. You?”

“Better than I could’ve imagined, honestly– maybe one of the best nights I’ve ever had in a while. Tonight feels like a core memory and dare I say it– it might be because I finally got to spend time with my favorite always-fully-booked person. It’s just been so beautiful and vibrant.”

A comfortable silence settles over the both of you, no words spoken for the moment that you both watch on at the disco scene and finally, the DJ finally announces that it’s time for slow dances and plays the first song: “Coney Island Baby”. You’re oblivious to the sudden spike in his nerves, his heart in his throat once more but he swallows it down and asks for your hand. How can you say no to his big blue puppy eyes, the eagerness shimmering like little stars despite the dim lights? Taking his hand, you say yes and give him a curtsy of your own. Skirts made of tulle, satin, and lace sway and billow with each swish in time with the music; the soft shuffling of shoes accompanies with the velvety voices of singers; palms slightly precipitate where it meets with another’s, unveiling sparky jitters; shy smiles and stolen glances reveal a previously secret admiration. Leon’s hand rests on your lower back, maintaining a respectful weight against your body, fingers gently splayed while yours rests on his upper arm for support. Your hand squeezes against his in twirls and each time, fireworks are set off in your best friend’s heart; your gazes flicker between the floor and the balloons overhead, focusing anywhere but each other; his heart is pressed against yours, like two perfect pieces in a puzzle– as if his heart wishes for yours to hear the song of its affection. Somewhere in the midst of a dance to “I Only Have Eyes for You”, Leon’s stare is more fervent this time. You were just about to ask him if anything was wrong, the smile slowly disappearing from your face, but he unintentionally interrupts you.

“I have something to tell you outside,” he says in a serious tone. “The music is too loud here.”

You nod, letting him guide you by the hand as you exit the dance hall and out into open space. The night is breezy, campus grounds all hush at 9 PM save for the faint romantic ballads that play from inside the gym.

“What is it, Leon?” you ask. He begins to worry you, his gaze more avoidant– a complete 360 from moments ago; his hands are in his pocket now, a nervous habit of his. The chilly gale lifts a few thin strands of his buttermilk hair, a light above him giving his locks a halo-like effect.

“Do you know about it?” Leon asks. You tilt your head, not quite grasping where he’s getting at.

“Know about what exactly?”

His attention snaps away from the small rock he’s rolling around with his shoe, biting his lip to the point of a more vibrant flush.

“You’ve always made my heart hurt,” he admits. “I’ve never known anyone like you– ever. And– and you know better than anyone else that I’ve grown to have this part of myself that’s all for you and now I’ve fallen helplessly in love with you in a way that I can’t fix with a few comforting words.”

You’re stunned silent, knees locking in in a way that’s unnatural to you and to the point of a slight discomfort. “I… I don’t understand you, Leon.” You mumble.

“I don’t… know when it happened or-or how… I didn’t even know what was happening to me until every little thing you do began to fill up my mind. I’ve loved you in silence for so long but it hurts sometimes because… I know I’m not the only one who sees your true beauty.”

You take a step back, creating a gap between your best friend and yourself. Leon takes a cautious step forward towards you but you stop him, your raised voice startling the vulnerable man.

“Stop!” you exclaim. “I just… Leon… I don’t know– I didn’t know. How long was this?”

“Since we were 16, when you visited me while I had fever.”

A bitter chuckle escapes your dry throat, prompting tears to fill your waterline. His heart shatters at this sight, it was never meant to be like this.

“I have a boyfriend, Leon. And I was planning for him to meet you sometime next week,” you say with a shaky voice as you dab at your eyes.

“Please don’t cry–”

“Don’t tell me that! Not when… you’re about to lose me. I thought–” you cut yourself off, a choked sob getting ahold of your ability to speak for a moment. “I thought that we would always stay as we were– as best friends– but now that you said all that… I feel like I’m going to lose you.”

Leon steps closer now and you let him, the blond you’ve known since childhood days giving you a grounding hug; it’s supposed to be something familiar but now it feels somehow unfamiliar, something akin to a gradual unwelcome change.

“I love you too, Leon, but not in the way you want me to. And I don’t know how to fix that for us.”

He pulls away, holding your shoulders, as he begs. Tears have begun to stream down his cheeks, leaving glossy trails.

“Please,” his voice strains as it thickens with emotions. “I… I don’t want you to fix anything, okay? I just wanted you to know and I’m sincerely sorry–”

“Did you always stick close to me because you were secretly trying to convince me to see you the way you do with me?” you ask in a whisper-like manner.

His heart shatters are at your reddened eyes and nose, most especially at seeing your lower lip wobble and knowing that he’s behind your distress. He thinks about hugging you, wrapping you in his arms to offer some sort of temporary reprieve from the pain, but after seeing you inch away from him with doubt as clear as day in your eyes he knows you won’t let him.

“No.” He says with conviction. “I kept myself close to you because I couldn’t bear to be without you, even if it meant keeping what I felt under lock-and-key. I wasn’t some scheming fool this whole time, you’ve gotta believe me, please. I couldn’t and still can’t imagine life without you, even if it means settling for scraps of your attention.”

“I hoped–” his voice breaks as the lump in his throat feels suffocating, “God, I hoped so much but I never meant for it to turn out like this. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You wipe at your eyes, disregarding the fact that the shimmery dust on your lids are probably smeared and washed out by tears. You can’t look him in the eye, thank god for the salty tears that reduced your vision to blurred blobs of colors and shapes; you’re not exactly in the mood to see those sad puppy eyes of his looking down at you as he does his best to cry as quietly as possible.

“I just want to go home,” you stated in a nasal tone. “I’m tired, I’m done.”

“I’ll drive you back,” the man in front of you quickly offers, voice just as nasal as yours.

You don’t say anything, turning your back to him and walking away to head to the direction of the parking lot, not in the mood to be around his presence and start this conversation all over again.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The atmosphere is dense and filled with dread, you can see that Leon’s knuckles have gone pale from how hard he was gripping the wheel. Unlike the ride hours ago, this one is void of music and exchanged jokes; the air is weighed down by tears that are yet to be shed. Leon’s usual ease is nowhere to be found and you sit stiffly in the passenger side, the growing distance feeling even wider despite the cramped confines of the car. His eyes remain fixed on the stretch of road ahead though his mind replays your words like a broken record, the occasional sniffle coming from you twisting his heart further though he knows he’s lost the right to reach for you. His throat burns with unsaid apologies yet even if he said them, there’s no taking back the vulnerability he gifted to you. You notice him chewing on his lower lip, a subconscious indicator of his that silently tells you that there’s more that he wishes to say, but you pretend to not have seen it, lost in your own world of sorrow and grief for a dear friendship; you refused to even turn your head towards his direction in the slightest, the only way to escape the cage-like feeling.

He stops the car in front of your house and gets up to open the door for you as a cordial act but you beat him to it, going first; you always did but there’s no laughs and playful taunts this time. He steps out of the car and watches you pass him by, seeing your shoulders tremor and wobble.

“Good night and sleep well,” he says to you. The soul tie has been severed, this chapter in your lives concluded, when you leave his words hanging in the air and don’t look back.

NOTE - "Nyx why is reader being overreactive by crying???" man I don't know either but I remember that when someone confessed to me back in middle school I was terrified for my life because I thought it meant being signed up for child marriage and to someone annoying as hell because the kid that liked me was irritating as FUCK!!! so there's that i suppose... also that kid is now gay and we're on good terms now dw :D i was also listening to music that my PE teachers frequently played (Shake Your Groove Thing by Peaches and Herb + 5,6,7,8 by Steps) and yk what... maybe they were onto something because why was it lowkey slapping??? like why was it groovy??? i missed my middle school teachers too when i forgot the other songs they used to play, i have got to be starting my period tomorrow or something -_- not sure if I already said this but I'm receiving my Leon tsum soon which means that I have two of em babies now: Chris and him AAAAAAAAAAA :0 If none of this makes sense, it's because I started on it at 11 PM and I finished at 1:19 AM (eepy) Anyway, that's it for my closing post in 2024 and as usual: thank you, thank you, thank you so much for reading and supporting my fics!!!!!!!!!!! I <33333333333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!! HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR EVERYONE ^V^

The dividers (the strawberries) are made by @kodaswrld , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[honeyedfate]

loverboy | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

jake is in love. completely smitten. and anyone in his immediate vicinity knows it. they also know that jake is an incredibly caring and thoughtful boyfriend and that he’d do anything for you. which makes it all the more frustrating when both of your fans believe that you can barely stand each other. they even have proof.

genre. fluff

a/n: wishing everyone a happy new year! may 2025 be kind to all of us x

jake is not a lover boy. he knows that. he’s never been overly well-versed in romance and he never pretended to be. nonetheless, he believes that there is a pertinent distinction to be made between being a hopeless romantic and being a good boyfriend.

the latter is what he strives for every day of his life. if romance is a language then it might not be his native tongue but, damn it, he works tirelessly to be fluent in it. he wears the title of being a good boyfriend like it’s a polished badge of honour, not expecting anything in return but solely doing it because he believes you don’t deserve anything less (and because he’s hopelessly in love, but that’s besides the point).

so how he ends up in this deeply offensive predicament is a mystery to him. he will lose sleep over it and will continue to do so until it’s resolved, which is seemingly why he’s sat in a meeting room at the company building, nervously spinning his chair while sneaking glances at you.

if he’s a nervous wreck then you’re the embodiment of a peace sign. he is simply in awe at how you’re this unperturbed by the presence of your managers, a pr team, a higher executive, and jungwon and chaewon. to say he was equal parts surprised and confused when he first walked into this room is an understatement.

it was exacerbated once you entered the room as well, looking just as puzzled and uninformed by this meeting as he was. you sat a respectable distance away from him, yet your presence still calmed jake down.

until it didn’t.

alarm bells slowly started ringing once he looked around the room. the bells were practically blaring when yuki said, “jake, as your manager and your friend you know that i only want what’s best for you. you know that. and y/n, you’ve been spending enough time with us to know that i’m fond of you, i think you’re a good kid. i care for both of you, which is the only reason why i’m asking you this.” he hesitated a little, taking a deep breath. “are you two dating?”

the silence was loud.

neither of you dared to glance at each other. an eternity must’ve passed until chaewon cleared her throat and said in a calm, steady voice, “it’s okay, guys. really.”

jake glanced at jungwon who was nodding eagerly. that was when you caught jake’s eye and he immediately knew you wanted to tell them. you had both talked about this before, letting him know that you wouldn’t mind if the company knew. you also knew that jake had his hesitations.

just telling the guys and knowing that you had told the girls nearly gave him heart palpitations. and it’s not because he’s distrustful, he just really values his privacy and keeping your relationship private felt like the right thing to do. thus, revealing it to the people presently sat in front him felt like a violation to his own peace of mind, but you both nodded and so it was out.

the response was nothing he could’ve expected. ever. because they looked… relieved? they actually looked quite happy. both of your managers had loosened a breath while the pr team had cracked small smiles or were trying very hard not to.

“what’s going on?” you said with a frown, having picked up on it too. chaewon gave a small laugh.

“well,” said the pr woman in a blue top. she picked up a small remote and pointed it at the beamer on the ceiling to turn it on. “recently, you two have been quite the talk on the internet. it seems that both of your fans think you hate each other. they’re actually pretty certain.”

and so, for the next twenty minutes jake and you were presented with a slideshow involving various headlines, articles, comments, posts, and video compilations from different social media platforms that had jake and you gasping in rotation.

“this one’s just dumb!” jake sputters, waving at the screen. “they’re saying i pushed her to the floor because she was dancing in her seat? why would i do that? she was sitting on the other side of the row, how could i have seen her!”

“maybe you sensed it and it really pissed you off.” you snort, holding up a folder filled with social media comments. “someone said i must despise your whole being because you’re introverted and i apparently have a personal vendetta against your people.”

“my people are your people! you’re an introvert too.” jake sounds desperate now. “where are they getting this from? all of these are so obviously a reach, come on.”

jake takes the folder out of your hands when he sees you giggling over a comment, prompting you to pout playfully. he pokes your side.

“you see…” jungwon speaks up, shaking his hair out of his eyes and clearly planning to beat around the bush. “is it though? not really. that obvious, i mean.”

chaewon hums in agreement. “i mean, i know you guys are in love, but there have been too many incidents that have caught people’s attention. it just can’t be a coincidence anymore, jake. the compilation is 30 minutes long, you know.” she looks at you and him carefully.

jake is beside himself. “you mean to tell me i pushed my girlfriend to the floor intentionally?”

“no, of course not,” says yuki with wide eyes, “we know you couldn’t hurt a fly if you wanted to, but, it’s just, well, how else did it happen? you mean to tell me y/n coincidentally fell against your arm when she walked past?”

“i’m just clumsy, guys.” you say quickly, moving your own chair closer to jake’s and bumping your legs against his in the process. “i was just walking down to my seat when he moved his arm because he was pointing at something. he didn’t even see me.”

“and when you were sitting on the floor right in front of him after the whole venue saw you fall, he also didn’t see you, right? him looking straight into your eyes and not moving a finger, so that a member from boynextdoor had to help you up also doesn’t have to mean anything, hm?” grey sweater guy from pr chimes in, sounding amused and curious and very punchable (to jake, at least).

“yeah, what was that about?” jungwon says in a low voice as if everyone in the room had suddenly developed hearing issues.

“or when you went out of your way to pour champagne on her at the prada afterparty? people screamed,” blue top woman adds unhelpfully.

your manager winces like it’s a traumatic memory to him. “there was also that one time when fans saw you hiding all of the vogue covers with y/n on them behind a bunch of other magazines at a bookstore.”

“or when y/n handed you flowers on music bank when we won and you gave them back. on camera.” jungwon snickers.

“okay!” jake lets himself fall back against his chair, feeling absolutely defeated. “i can’t believe that’s how people perceived all of this. that’s…god, i don’t even know, but i can explain everything.”

“please do,” you say in a teasing tone, “because i am also starting to think you might actually secretly hate me.”

“what—” jake leans towards you abruptly, searching your eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

“i’m just joking.”

“get better jokes,” he grumbles, pouting, before letting out a long sigh when he sees everyone staring at him expectantly. “i don’t even know where to begin.”

“start with the magazines,” you say.

“oh, those.” he scratches the back of his head. “i was at a bookstore when i saw the covers on display and i just felt really proud, i mean you looked beautiful and it was a really cool concept. so i took some pictures on my phone and when it suddenly changed to the front camera, i could see two girls looking at me from behind. i panicked and didn’t know what to do, so i quickly shoved the magazines behind some others hoping they didn’t see me take the photos.”

“they didn’t,” grey sweater guy confirms. “they only saw you hide them.”

jake nods. “yes, and at the prada afterparty, i just… i didn’t saw anyone filming us, so i thought it’d be safe to bring my girlfriend a drink. i was being subtle, but when i turned around, she was standing a lot closer than expected and i bumped into her. the whole drink just kind of spilled over and that’s when i saw the phones filming us.”

jake glances at you sheepishly, but you simply smile reassuringly, knowing that it was just an accident and he had apologised profusely that night. it was never that big of a deal to you anyway, knowing no one was mad that the dress had been ruined. reaching over under the table, you interlace your fingers with his and draw small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb, hoping it signals to him exactly that.

he goes on to say, “i also didn’t mean to push her at the AAA awards. it was all an accident and it happened so quickly that when i looked down and saw y/n there, i just froze. i couldn’t believe what had happened and also…” he clears his throat. “she just looked really pretty, like she was wearing that dress and her hair looked so—erm, yea, anyway. i malfunctioned.”

jungwon gives a small laugh, shoving jake’s shoulder as chaewon coos. you try to hide your grin when you see how red his ears are and fail miserably, but jake mirrors it, so you don’t feel too bad about it.

“and the flowers, oh my god, i don’t know why i did that.” jake groans like the memory still haunts him. “i just saw the bouquet and my brain went oh, flowers! i need to give them to y/n so i did. like an idiot. and i obviously couldn’t snatch them back when heeseung asked why i did that. it was embarrassing.”

the whole room erupts in laughter and you lay your head on his shoulder, saying, “it was cute.”

jake grunts something incoherent, but wraps an arm around your waist anyway, pulling you closer.

“you know,” the higher executive finally speaks up, still laughing. “it’s extremely relieving that you two don’t hat each other because your fans were really turning this into a battlefield. this, however, is much easier to manage knowing you are both willing to cooperate.”

jake and you exchange a look. “what do you mean cooperate?”

“cooperate in what?” you add on.

the pr team pulls out another stack of folders, each of them tabbed and colour coordinated. “we have a plan.”

grey sweater guy starts another presentation, revealing the first slide which says in bold, capital letters OPERATION: NO HATE, JUST DATE.

your jaw hits the floor. jake inhales sharply and says under his breath, “no way.”

next to him, jungwon grins, enjoying himself a little too much.

“this will be so much fun, guys!”

[nodoubtily]

js wanna sit in it. So fucking BADLYYYY

TW:// smut so MDNI! Slight(?) choking, loser turns really fucking sexy, reader is so damn horny TF??, Dom x Sub type shii, manhandling BECAUSE WE LOVE BEING THROWN. Also, this was made for someone who has turned into a real good friend so quickly!!

What is it that you want?

Your boyfriend is a loser. A hot loser at that, manspreading in his gamer chair as he plays and fidgets with his PlayStation controller, slightly sweating from the intense match he’s in.

“Jake, for fucks sake!” Sunghoon swears at the screen, fingers working quickly to defend his character from death, resulting in success, healing Jake as well. You can hear mumbles from the other ends, indicating the presence of Sunghoon’s closest friends, Jake and Jay.

You turn back to your phone, scrolling through your instagram reels until a particular red thought comes across. You read it, almost immediately feeling the consequences of this. You, needing more and quite interested, continue to read almost every single red thought on this account, torturing yourself as you’re basically dripping like a tap faucet. Your thighs squeeze, glancing up at your boyfriend who looks so effortlessly sexy with his hair ruffled and fluffy from his hands continuously rifting through his locks, his hoodie’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his pretty hands that hold the controller. His glasses perfecting his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his tongue pressed against the wall of his mouth, a restless manner radiating off of him. You watch as he skilfully fights off the opposing team, a certain precision in his aim that proves how often Sunghoon plays. He really is a fucking loser.

Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth as you shamelessly imagine what you want him to do to you, hands squeezing the blanket you sit on. You don’t even realise he’s noticed your neediness, as you are so deeply engulfed in your own little world. You only snap out of it when you see him turn his chair so it faces you, still manspreading, a darker glint in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asks, a smirk dancing along his lips you so badly want to bite. You attempt (and fail) to compose yourself, feigning a confused expression on your face, as if you weren’t just imagining his cock buried snug inside of you only just a few seconds ago.

“Nothing, just watching my reels.” You go to show him your reels, forgetting the red thought thats writing is in such large, white letters. Sunghoon only feels it’s right to read it. If you think I’m pretty now, imagine how pretty I am spread for you. He swears he feels his cock throb.

“Do I need to imagine that?” He asks you. You’re confused until you remember, hiding your phone screen against your chest, looking everywhere but at him. “Baby…” he gets up from his gaming game chair, his PlayStation already turned off. He makes his way to where you are, grabbing your ankles, pulling you so you sit at the edge of the bed where he stands. “What is it that you want?”

“It doesn’t matter..” you mumble, feeling a little disappointed you’re saying that. His hand reaches to your chin, pointing it towards him, forcing you to look at him.

“Keep your eyes on me, yeah? Don’t wanna misbehave, do you?” He questions you, hand sliding to your neck, grasping it with his large hand, adding slight pressure, caging it as if his hand is your new necklace. He then, still grasping your neck, pushes you, catching you off guard, surprising you. He’s quick to pull your bottoms off, flinging them god knows where as well as swiftly stripping himself of his shirt, leaving your eyes to stare at his strong arms and god-like torso. Sunghoon climbs on the bed behind you, grabbing your waist, pulling you against his chest. You settle between his legs, your back pressed on his warm chest. From behind, he pries your legs open, reaching to your inner thighs, dangerously close to where your silently begging him to be. Lethally close.

“Hoonie-” your voice is cut off. He only chuckles, a sound you only recognise too fucking well.

…

Not so loser anymore, hm?

@felixsgreasylefteyelash143 ⬅️CHECK OUT THEIR BLOG ITS SO 🫶🫶😍😍🥹🥹☝️☝️