#it’s so embarrassing i refuse to look back

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

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Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port… will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

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-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Upd: There is a next part!

Previous

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[i-like-loserz]

Sorry for asking but do you do twt links?

yes i do — and it's for sub!san 🤭

i call this one: failed cockwarming

cw: smut (18+), nsfw link, sub!san, praise kink, edging, overstimulation, m!squirting, cockwarming (obvi), piv + unprotected

note: there's nothing i love more than a whiny, desperate man, completely lost for the touch of his partner...(did not mean to make this 1k words lol) -- also WHAT A CUTIE

NSFW LINK AND DESCRIPTION UNDER THE CUT

there's been one thing you've wanted to try with your boyfriend for a while now: cockwarming.

you've been building him up to it, knowing how desperate he gets once he's inside of you. how do you expect him to be a good patient boy while you're sitting on his cock if you don't train him?

it started with a series of edging sessions. you make him sit on the couch or against the headboard of the bed and slowly stroke him, refusing to speed up or hold him firmer. your fingers glide over the blushing silk-like skin, drawing shutters and moans from his perfect lips. he begs you sweetly, eyes already shiny with desperation, but you refuse to give in. it's for his own good, you tell yourself.

every time he tries to buck his hips against your hold, you use your other hand to hold him down, scolding him lightly for being so greedy. after bringing him to the edge a few times, he's shaking under you, cock hard and throbbing for relief. his eyes are red and wet from frustrated tears, his lips are shiny and plump from all the lip bitting, and there's a cute blush that's spread over his pretty face.

when you finally let him cum, his eyes roll to the back of his head and his flushed chest heaves beautifully from the intensity of his climax. he cums so much.

it spills over your fingers and trails down your wrist, making a mess of his lap. he whimpers desperately as you continue to stroke him. he tries to back away from the overwhelming painful pleasure of being overstimulated, but you keep pinned in his spot, interested to see how much he can handle.

he ends up having his first squirting experience, completely soaking everything around him -- including you.

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't mean to--" he's embarrassed, pouting with a blush as he stares at the soaked sheets under him. you drag your thumb over his thigh comfortingly and can't help but admire the way he shudders just from the faint touch.

"you did so good for me, sannie. you looked so pretty squirting for me like that~" the praise immediately calms him down, happy to please you and that you're not mad about the mess (but then again, you never are).

you thought this practiced restraint would help san acclimate to cockwarming. it's not like you're moving against him or anything. it's all about enjoy each other's company and the feeling of being connected. apparently there's a very big difference between your fist and your pussy.

it started off promising. you approached san with your idea:

"sannie..." you're playing with his hair delicately as he rests his head on your lap. it's a routine bonding moment that san regularly begs for. it makes him feel doted on and secure, and it usually leads to him falling asleep at the end.

he opens his eyes gently, already bleary with an adorable sleepy expression.

"mhm?"

"i was thinking..." you hum, massaging his scalp as you speak, "there's this thing that apparently brings couples closer together. it's supposed to be very comforting and intimate."

you swear, if he were a cat his ears would've been perked up at the mere mention of 'being closer' -- as if you could be any closer to each other. you practically spend every minute together.

he turns his head so he's looking at you more directly, "what is it?"

---

it's only been a few minutes and he's already whining under you. you feel so full and warm, perfectly draped over his body as he stuffs you to the brim. if it weren't for his desperate whines and the way he's throbbing inside of you, you swear you could fall asleep like this.

you've been trying to placate him with small kisses along his face and neck -- but it's only making it worse.

"it's okay, sannie, just relax." you coo, "don't think about it, i'm right here, baby..."

he whimpers softly, "i-i can't, it's -- mmph..."

he holds onto your waist firmly, trying to hold back. you can't help the way your body reacts when he squeezes you tightly with his large hands, the pressure feels amazing. you unconsciously clench around him, causing him to buck his hips against yours unsteadily with a choked out moan.

"f-fuck...sorry, baby, i didn't mean to do that~" you whisper against the heated skin of his neck. you press lazy kisses against him, already half-delirious from that scant bit of movement. "just stay here with me..."

your hands move to ghost over his chest, one of your favorite parts of his body. he's surprisingly sensitive there, gasping whenever you flick over his nipples or grope his pecs. you know you shouldn't, but you can't help the way your fingers circle around his pretty blush buds. he shivers from the contact and shallowly thrusts into you again.

"s-stop, it's too much." he lets go of your waist to grab your wrists, forcing your hands away from his chest. with misty eyes, he looks up at you, "i'm trying to be good, but i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that."

he looks fucking edible like this.

fuck it.

you take advantage of the weak hold around your wrists and push both of your arms to the top of the mattress. he looks lost as you pin him to the bed, weary eyes anticipating your next move.

"i was trying to do something new with you, but you just can't help it can you?" you tease, "so sensitive that you'll do anything to cum, hm?"

it's almost like he can't hear you, reeling from the teasing words that drip from your enticing lips.

you squeeze him within you again. that gets his attention.

"anything" he pants eagerly.

"fuck me, baby."

[starcurtain]

More Phaidei Fics I Want to Read (Part 2)

1. The outsider POV one where the other members of the Kremnoan Detachment notice Phainon's... attention toward their prince much more than Mydei himself does. The absolute audacity of this so-called "Deliverer"! That's not just the Detachment's ruler, that's their pride and joy! If some upstart foreigner thinks he's going to be allowed to make eyes at their prince as if Mydeimos were a war prize to be won, Phainon's got another thing coming, prophecy be damned. If it means protecting Mydei's honor, the Kremnoan Detachment can be, and certainly will be, Amphoreus' most immovable wall. Unfortunately for them... Phainon is an unstoppable force. (Or: The one where Phainon gets cockblocked by an entire army, and no one thinks to ask Mydei his opinion on the matter until he finally has to settle the issue himself.)

2. The very silly comedy one where Mydei suffers a string of embarrassing accidental deaths in Okhema that wound his pride much more than they wound his body. In fact, the person most upset by the whole thing is (predictably) Phainon. Determined to put a stop to Mydei's streak of terrible luck, Phainon insists on forming the official "Mydeimos Protection Squad." Member Count: 1.33. (Trianne is helping.) In Nikador's damn name... It's going to be hard enough to recover his reputation after it gets out that Mydei actually managed to drown in one of the baths--does Phainon really need to act like this about it? And since when does being on a "Protection Squad" require Phainon to move in with him???

3. Beauty and Beast meets Mydei's Howl's Moving Castle AU: Okhema is a prospering magical city ruled by its beautiful and charming demigoddesses Aglaea and Tribios; however, their otherwise peaceful paradise has been haunted in recent years by a ghostly specter: a mysterious floating fortress that periodically darkens the skies, an unknown threat looming overhead. Rumors begin to spread of a terrifying "god of war" in the castle, one that devours beautiful maidens and lads without a hint of remorse. Curious and determined to solve the mystery of this castle in the air, Tribbie goes to investigate--and gets herself in terrible trouble when she discovers the rumors are seemingly true: the castle is ruled by a monstrous-looking beast calling himself the "soul of strife." Sealed away for trespassing, the only thing Tribbie can do is send out a desperate call for help through her other selves. Rallied to his leader's aid, Phainon, swordmaster of Okhema, steps up to help. There's no way he'll leave poor Tribbie to her fate--even if it means he has to exchange her freedom for his own. But there's more to this "beast" than meets the eye, and with both a powerful prophecy and the threat of a mad ancient god's legacy impending, it's up to Phainon to break a seemingly unbreakable curse--and secure his own happy ending.

4. The "in another life" one, but Phainon has all the memories--not just of the warm, golden days with Mydei in Okhema, but of everything that happened after, of the ultimate betrayal of trust, of the cold steel he plunged into Mydei's back... Their reunion in this new era was unintentional, unavoidable, and aching. The happy ending Phainon desperately desired all along is here, within his reach--and in danger of being ruined all over again. What horror will he bring to Mydei's life this time? Convinced that he doesn't deserve a second chance at happiness in their new life, Phainon does everything in his power to avoid Mydei. But even without all the memories of Amphoreus, Mydei has always been unstoppable when he sets his mind to something--and there's no way Mydei is going to let Phainon screw this up. (Not again.)

5. The canon divergent AU: Mydei's father King Eurypon avoids the trap of a self-fulfilling prophecy by refusing to throw his child into the sea, so Mydei is instead raised a beloved son of Kremnos by both his father and mother--but the kingdom's ultimate fate of destruction cannot be changed. Nikador still goes mad, and Eurypon and Gorgo's deadly duel still plays out when Gorgo rejects Eurypon's plan to use the mad god's power. But before a furious Mydei can avenge his mother, Nikador fully succumbs to the corruption of the dark tide and launches a brutal massacre against their own worshippers, claiming the lives of the king and half the castrum's populace. Forced to flee with the tattered survivors, grieving everything he knew and loved, Mydei is hurled into a role of leadership he is hardly prepared for and never truly wanted.

Only Kremnos's history has left them with no allies, and Okhema's Council turns away Mydei's every attempt at diplomacy. Desperate, with the weight of his entire people's safety on his shoulders, Mydei and the Kremnoan army lay siege to the holy city. If words alone cannot win them sanctuary, then it will be blood and blades that throw open the gates. But Okhema has a new champion, a swordmaster from afar who will stop at nothing to prove his worth to his new people, and it turns out this "Phainon of Aedes Elysiae" might be Mydei's only match--on the battefield and elsewhere.

(tl;dr: Enemies to lovers, meet-on-the-battlefield romance.)

[metranart]

Squid Game AU - JJK Shameless Smut

ft. Yuji x Reader (Nanami/Gojo/Geto and Toge x Reader in complete version)(teaser)

Your hands were shaking too much, you should have died but that pink-haired man saved you. Green light, red light was your favorite game when you were little, but that memory had already been overwritten with this massacre. 

This wasn't a normal game, and even though the rules said that if everyone voted it could be stopped, no one really wanted to leave, not with so much money at stake. What did that say about you?! Your breathing became more labored, your pulse became erratic, you felt cold sweats, you were a ball rocking back and forth in your bed, but instead of feeling better, you felt worse and worse, everything slowly becoming a blur-

"You're about to have a panic attack," It was him again, player number one, the one who saved your life less than five minutes ago. You recognized him immediately, that deep shade of pink styled in an undercut haircut was unmistakable, so cute, it even looked like he had teased it with pomade or a hairspray to mess it up. That sports suit couldn't hide the muscular body underneath. Broad back, big but elegant hands, with a friendly and trustworthy aura. You shouldn't be thinking about that when you were about to faint, ".... if you let me, I can help you."

He suggested, did he wanted to save you again? Really?? who were you to refuse? Your head nodded slightly and before you knew what was happening, your body was already between his open legs, he had climbed onto your bed placing himself behind you and wrapping your small body in his large one. Your back against his strong chest, his head hanging over yours, protectively.

"Feel my breathing and imitate it." This gentle creature suggested calmly, "you can do it, everything is fine, you are fine. I will take care of you." He was saying all the right words, everything anyone would want to hear. He didn't seem scared and that was saying something. You slowly began to relax, the tension in your muscles melting away within the safe embrace of this kind stranger.

"My name is Yuji," he murmured next to your ear, with your eyes closed, his voice sounding deeper, "I'm sure you have a pretty name-"

He was trying to distract you, to comfort you with small talk.

"(Y/N)." It was barely a whisper, but he was paying so much attention to you that he heard it clearly. "I knew it was pretty." 

His cheerful and honest reaction completely brought you out of this nightmare, slowly rocking you within his strong embrace. "Are you feeling better now, (Y/N)?" His question came a few minutes later, once your breathing was calm and pleasant. You slowly opened your eyelids and looked up, where you found him peeking at you from his vantage point, watching you, analyzing you with that gentle, friendly gesture stamped on his handsome face.

"Yeah, thank you," your words now slurred, lazy, "I feel much better, Yuji."

You could almost swear you felt Yuji shiver, the hairs on his arm standing on end, making you wonder what caused it.

"I didn't expect my name to sound so nice in your voice," he chuckled a little embarrassed, realizing you noticed his not-so-subtle reaction, still numb you smiled weakly at him, too comfortable in his arms to notice that detail.

"Seriously, thank you." You repeated, honestly touched, "I'm crushing you, if you want, I can move-"

"You don't bother me," he spat quickly, "...you don't weigh anything, I mean-..." were you making him nervous?  "I... I'd just like to-... let's wait a little longer like this, I feel like you're still a little shaken up. Of course, only if it’s okay with you."

You had never met someone so kind, usually the extra kind were also the ones you had to be more careful with, not knowing if their intentions were true, but this time you gave him the benefit of the doubt. You felt so comfortable and safe curled up next to him that you didn't care, you didn't acknowledge the red flags: the unnecessary possessiveness with which he held you close to him, the murderous glances he sent to any other contestant who dared to lay eyes on you, how he sniffed your hair on the sly and tangled it between his fingers, you were blind to all these curiosities, all in order, of this little piece of heaven. So warm and comfortable and… safe.

Yuji quickly became your shoulder to cry on and even faster he became your safe place, both of you had chosen high beds, side by side, to talk, eat and be together, friends in arms… But that very night you needed more than a friend or an ally.

Yuji opened his sleepy eyelids just to find you watching him from your bed. Hugging your blankets to your chest.

"Is something wrong?” he murmured softly, “Do you want me to accompany you to the bathroom?" asked in a soft, only-to-your-ears hush. 

You shook your head, and the darkness did not allow him to see the blush forming on your face. “I had a nightmare… can I sleep with you?”

It was a mostly innocent proposition, or so you told yourself, refusing to accept the hidden urgent need your body demanded to vent, after seeing all those corpses piling up and you miraculously escaping alive. You wanted to dissipate that energy, rather your body demanded it… and Yuji was so nice, so handsome, so thick and wide… so suitable for the job.

A soft smile took over his lips, no words were needed, he simply opened the sheets for you to enter, and you did, quickly making yourself at home snuggling up against his strong chest.

“A-are you comfortable?” he asked, a little worried about how small you were compared to him, not wanting to crush you.

“Very,” you conceded, snuggling closer and he grinned, pleased. 

You both pretended to sleep for a couple of awkward minutes. Eyes closed, breathing evenly, still, it wasn’t what you were going for, not tonight.

You almost felt bad when, as you pretended to settle more comfortably, you pressed your ass against his crotch. Snuggling his bulge into your warmth, Yuji managed to suppress the moan in time, but you could clearly hear him grit his teeth. His breathing slowly quickened, you did it again, smearing yourself innocently from top to bottom, enjoying the feeling of growing from flaccid to hard, to rock hard. His breathing became a hot mess. The effort to hold back increased by a factor of a thousand.

".... If you let me,” you whispered with cotton candy sweetness, “I can help you."

Using the same words he had used with you. Yuji let out a quiet chuckle under his breath before letting out a shaky, f-fuck between his tight lips.

“-I won’t be able to control myself, (Y/N).” He warned you and only his voice, completely husky and deep, told you how needy you had made him, how much you craved a sweet release too…luckily for him, you needed it even more.

“Everyone is already asleep,” you tempted him, “no one will hear us if we stay quiet.” You turned around and kissed your next words to the soft skin of his neck, “—…tomorrow we could be dead, so what does it matter?”

Yuji didn’t need to hear another word as he was already on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress. Eagerly bucking his hips against your warm center over your pants, your face hugged by his strong palms as he stole your breath, kiss after kiss after kiss.

Without warning, you squeezed his erect cock over the fabric of his pants and he groaned hoarsely. A tender laugh accompanied your quiet ‘shhhhhh’, making him chuckle and press his forehead against yours. Those brown eyes were now pools of unbridled lust, no gentleness in them.

“You're a breath of fresh air, (Y/N)-..." Yuji said, lost in thought, as if it were a revelation, as if he had been waiting for you all his life, "... I swear that if we get out of here alive, I’ll follow you everywhere… just point the way.”

You caressed his cheek tenderly with your thumb, looking straight into those honest eyes. He was pouring his heart out to you, but this wasn’t the place nor the time to make such promises, you barely know each other but given the circumstances you could easily understand the intensity of his statement, "-first, we have to get out of here alive."

He smirked. "Deal."

The pink-haired didn’t waste any more time, within seconds he was pulling his shirt over his head, even in the dim light you could see how muscular and ripped his torso was, a damn work of art. Biting your lip, he straddled you, so his hands slowly slid under your shirt, searching for your breasts.

“Oh, so soft and nice, gorgeous.” Yuji praised softly, squeezing in a provocative, exploratory manner and when you mewled, his smile grew bigger. Yuji licked his lips, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, staring into your eyes the whole time, holding your gaze, gauging your reactions, what you liked, how you liked it.

“Perfect fit,” he boasted, marveling, “we are SO made for each other.” Handful after handful of your breast making him painfully HARD. You were tailor-made for him. 

Those little moans of yours throwing him off balance sooner than anticipated, the clothes had to come off, and shuffling a little with your clothes, a huge smile curved his lips as he finally had you naked and at his mercy.

"What a glorious sight." 

A quiet mhmmm sound rumbled in gentle encouragement for him to keep going, and then he took just one more second to admire you, etching you into his soul.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you have me under your spell.”

Such a cute smile from you could almost make him explode inside his pants, but instead, he cleared his throat, kicked his pants down, and tightened his hold on your body, dragging you up with his forearms until you were straddling his thick erection. 

“I can try to be gentle.” He brushed your lips with the whispered words, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Yuji,” his name trembled on your lips. “You can take me however you want as long as you make me forget this place…” You lowered your hips and smeared your wet pussy all over his throbbing cock, coating it with your juices for easy access. “I want you to make me feel good.” You felt vulnerable, not enough for him to be taking advantage, but enough to let him have you as he wanted. “Don’t hold back.”

Yuji looked like something took over him, desire reflected deep in his brown eyes, and you couldn't look away from him.

“Definitely, mine.” His husky voice said above you. “Then, I'll take care of you.” 

You arched your back as you felt him enter you, slow and sure, letting you feel every ridge of his thick cock stretching you like no one had ever done before.

"Halfway there, pretty," he growled breathlessly, already dizzy from how tight you were. "...fucking tight, little thing. I ne-need to go... ball's deep inside you, baby..." his hips pushed your legs wider, excitement dancing in his eyes, always inspecting your face for any sign of discomfort, earning inch by inch, "Oh, I'm gonna-..." your breath hitched, and toes curled, "---I’m gonna fill you up gooood."

Muffling the cry into his shoulders, you feel awfully full and cramped. Yuji was huge, like a forearm entering you.

“This,” Yuji managed, finally bottoming out inside you, “this is fucking heaven.”

You gasped, close to tears just from the effort of keeping it in, "...move," you hated how needy you sounded. “Good girl.” He murmured, obviously appreciating your efforts. “I know you can take it, (Y/N) …”

He grabbed your hips and forced you to slide up and down his thickness, knocking the wind out of you when you felt the amazing friction. The obscene noises you hear coming from his parted lips a hundred times more exciting that him fucking you like this, raw and deep, without an inch of fucking restraint, forcing that thick, vulgar cock all the way out only to plunge back into the hilt, again and again and again, picking up the speed a little with each thrust.

“A-Are you still with me?” Yuji chuckled breathlessly, checking out your flushed cheeks, your sweaty forehead, your eyeballs rolled to the back of your skull, already drunk on cock, yet you took it like a champ. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, pleased, “don't faint on me just yet.” 

You had summoned this frenzied exhilaration in him, now you were responsible for squeezing every last drop out of him, keeping it inside and giving him a whole litter.

Rough fingers kept you effectively anchored to his groin, too marveled with the way your breast bounced in time with his frantic pounding. He could only grin like a madman in response to your pathetic expression as he continued to unleash ruin on your helpless and completely conquered cunt.

“Y’know,” he said conversationally, disturbingly stretched grin and unfaltering brown gaze betraying his jovial tone and innocently cocked head, “I’m really glad, I got into these games… as a player, for once.”

As a player?... The little mind you had at that moment didn't know how to interpret his words. For once?... Wasn't there only one person who could win the game? Has he been here before? 

All these doubts didn't have much time to bear fruit, as soon this position bored him and you squirmed, face first against the soft mattress as his hot, sweaty and terribly muscled body pinned you to the sheets, his hips never skipping a single thrust.

"I like you better like this," he said more to himself than you. “You likin' it, pretty?” he kissed the question on the side of your face, holding you firm and still, his large hands like handcuffs around your wrists, “you like how deep I can go? Can you see how you’re panting for it.”

This Yuji seemed different, truly condescending and possessive, not the gentle, safe guy who had comforted you hours ago. To your surprise, it wasn’t unwelcome, he knew how to put you in your place, and he definitely knew how to make you cum, because his thumb had slid under your bodies and almost like a bloodhound found your clit, which he now bullied with circles, fast or extra slow, reading you like an expert until you saw nothing but starlight and fireworks.

“Ahhhh-…” 

Your delirious moan was muffled by one of his large palms, while the other held both of your wrists inside without any problem, his cock undoing you throughout the convulsing and completely spasmodic orgasm. Making you squirt like crazy, which only helped make the friction more pleasurable and easier.

“Such a good girl…” Yuji cooed, and a moan escaped your lips, his praise making your gummy walls tighten around him. “Now, I’m going to cum inside you.”

He told you, but you could barely register what he was saying, too far gone on your high from being used. A dopey grin plastered on your muffled lips, and he let go, only to grab your chin, tilting you up to make you look at him, your eyes bright in a permanent daze. “That was just the beginning, are you sure you can handle the rest?”

“I-I’m sure,” your voice shook but your resolve didn’t. You wanted to feel him cum inside you, your body rocking and shuddering, just to the thought of it.

“Then-… eyes on me. Always watching me. Look at me while I claim you. Look at me when I make you cum.” You didn’t know how to look away, and he smirked. “Look at me or I’ll die.”  

He gave you a wet, sloppy thrust pumping his cock into you and then fucked you stupid for the rest of the fucking night, bending you over in every possible position he could think of, cumming inside you over seven times, leaving your belly full of his cum. It was amazing, it was an incredible feat… but the real feat was cleaning up afterward, and yet somehow, he did it, alone, because at some point in the night you passed out.

A huge grin on your lips the only indication that you had been fucked to exhaustion. That and the video from the security cameras that saw absolutely everything…

“What an interesting player we have in these games,” said the square mask to his most loyal guards, who grinned mischievously beneath their triangle masks, licking their lips like cats eyeing a bowl of sweet milk that was no doubt meant for them. “I agree with player one, what a glorious sight this little player is, we’ll have to keep a close eye on her.”

....READ THE 10,000 WORD FIC COMMISSION IN HERE! (Includes NSFW art from scenes of the fic and lots of smut. Plus, lot of JJK NSFW content in general) ;)

[spacegyaru]

cw: very toxic shidou! also, i'm having a baby fever rn after meeting my bf's nieces sooo. also, they're both 23 here!

toxic! shidou ryusei is the type to make you beg no matter what the circumstances are. whether it's in and out of the bed, if he has the chance to be a menace, he totally would be.

you remember staring back at the two lines that your pregnancy test kits left three weeks after officially breaking up with him. you cursed at yourself upon seeing it.

"ugh fuck," you whispered to yourself, after looking at the white stick you just used. you discovered that you were officially pregnant with your ex-boyfriend, ryusei shidou's baby.

well, the circumstances of the breakup weren't exactly ideal. you loved shidou dearly, but he started becoming a little bit toxic. it all started when you asked to break up with him for the sake of your career, but he refused to— you ended up having make up sex until you forgot about breaking up. after that, whenever you guys start having an argument, he brings up the fact that you almost broke up with him, even to the point of accusing you for cheating— but he wasn't agressive. it was more of a taunt to you, given his smug personality.

eventually, you got sick of it and broke up with him. now, you're in your bathroom, thinking whether you should tell him or not. you sigh, setting down the three tests, and taking a photo of them.

if you're going to be honest, you'd love to have kids— babies to be exact. but you're not sure about who their dad would be. also, you're not sure if your menacing ex would be the ideal man for that. besides, you're broke right now... which means, you'll be needing his help.

so with a little bit of hesitation, you texted him after deleting his contact, and not talking for the past two weeks, sending him a photo of those three tests.

this is the first time he left you on read, and it made your blood boil. you were so mad.

after that, you tossed your phone on the bed. why were you hoping for a good response from shidou anyway? that's like waiting for a shooting star.

until the next night...

you couldn't stop your blood from boiling upon reading this. so you devised a plan to confront. the next day, you were angrily storming in to the sports arena, after his football practice. there's not a lot of people during that hour and he's usually the last person to leave. you entered the locker room, where you met him, with his towel hanging low from his hips. he smirked upon seeing you with an angry expression while approaching him.

"yo y/n—" shidou tried to greet you, but your palm came across his cheek. you slapped him with full of anger.

"you have the guts to greet me with a 'yo' when i just told you that i'm pregnant and you literally ignored me?!" you almost caused a scandal in the locker room, but it's a good thing that there's only the two of you in the whole place.

you thought shidou would argue back, but he didn't. he smirked, ignored you, and just got dressed. all while you waited for his answer. this is shidou's usual trick to provoke you. he's going to be quiet and wear a smug expression, until you get so angry... and eventually, you're gonna find yourself calming down.

"r-ryusei— hey, d-don't ignore me! hey!" you tried chasing him as he almost left while carrying his sports duffel bag, but you blocked his way, almost doing a t-pose. and he laughed upon you doing this. you got so embarrassed and flustered by his reaction.

"you're so funny, y/n." shidou said in a smug voice, "if you want my help, you gotta at least be nice to me, you know? you'll need to take me back to your life.~"

oh hell nah, shidou knows a lot. he knows that child was made by you and him. but of course... he won't give you what you want. not until you beg for it. not until you show him how dependent you are to him.

shidou didn't expect you to give in so fast though. but you had swallow your pride. you badly need his help.

"i-i— don't leave me alone, ryusei. this is your child too. i—" you were having a hard time blocking his way and he's surely having fun watching you chase him like this. "f-fine, i'll play nice and do whatever you want!"

again, for the third time, shidou managed to make himself crawl back in your life again. you could never get rid of this man.

[shutupandwatchsmosh]

crossing the line ꥟ luke alvez

summary: after you get mildly injured on a case, luke refuses to leave you alone and insists on driving you home. so obviously, you end up inviting him inside. just to be nice. no other reason. pairing: luke alvez x bau!reader warnings: very vague mentions of a head injury/concussion, they drink like one glass of wine each, and luke being incredibly and disgustingly smooth. i feel like that deserves a warning. wc: 2.1k words a/n: thank you to the aaron hotchner and luke alvez rp accs on twitter for that far right pic :P definitely helped with inspiration. masterlist.

The car ride was filled with the sound of the radio playing soft melodic tunes and the occasional hum of the tires against the road, but the air inside was charged. Luke’s hands were firm on the wheel, knuckles flexing every so often, and every few seconds, he’d glance sideways at you, his eyes sharp even in the dim glow of the passing streetlights.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked for what felt like the hundredth time since you’d left the scene.

You sighed, pressing your head back against the seat. “Luke. I’m fine. The paramedics checked me over, twice, at your insistence, and I assure you, I will live.”

He scoffed. “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. You’re the same person who insisted that a sprained ankle was ‘barely anything’ and then refused to take painkillers until Prentiss literally threatened to bench you.” “Okay, that was one time, Alvez,” you rolled your eyes playfully.

Luke shook his head, but there was an amused glint in his eyes. “Yeah, and that one time was more than enough for me to know that you’re proficient at downplaying anything and everything.”

“Aww, you care about me,” you smirked, tilting your head to the side. “Maybe.” The man exhaled through his nose, clearly exasperated by your teasing, but you don’t miss the slight smirk playing on his lips. “You just love pushing my buttons, don’t you?”

“Oh, so much.”

His deep chuckle sent warmth through your chest, and you allowed yourself a moment to just watch him. The strong line of his jaw, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he always checked on you even when he pretended he wasn’t worried.

He was so easy to flirt with. So easy to want.

And that was the problem.

For months now, you had both danced along this razor-thin line between friendship and something so much more. The team saw it as clear as day. Garcia had started a teamwide bet on when you two would finally do something about it. Even Rossi, who rarely inserted himself into office gossip and preferred to observe from a distance, had once casually said at a briefing:

“When you two finally figure it out, just let me know. I’ll bring the wine.”

It wasn’t a question of if something would ever happen between you.

It was when.

And whether either of you would finally stop pretending.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

The memory of your first day at the BAU surfaced before you could stop it. You’d been nervous, of course. Not that you’d ever let it show, but it was the BAU. You knew what kind of ring you were stepping foot into.

And then, as you stood in the bullpen, silently taking it all in, a voice had cut through the noise-

“You must be the new recruit.”

You turned, and there he was.

Luke Alvez.

Tall, and devastatingly good-looking, with eyes that made your stomach do embarrassing things.

He had smirked- cocky- but not in a way that irritated you. No, in a way that made you immediately want to challenge him.

“I prefer special agent, actually,” you had said, lifting your chin slightly.

That made him chuckle, something deep and oh so warm. “Fair enough, special agent. Luke Alvez. Welcome to the BAU.”

From that moment, you two had clicked instantly.

Maybe it was the way you could keep up with his wit. Maybe it was the easy way he made you laugh. Maybe it was the way you could both hold your own against each other in playful banter without ever taking things too seriously.

But the flirting? 

That had started immediately.

And it had never stopped.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

Somewhere along the way, you and Luke fell into an unspoken tradition.

Whenever you beat him to the office, you brought him coffee. Whenever he beat you, he brought you coffee.

It was an extremely minor thing, something that the rest of the team hadn’t even noticed at first.

Until one morning, when JJ walked past the kitchenette and froze.

She tilted her head, then turned to Emily. “Did you know they have a whole coffee… thing?”

Emily, who had been watching the two of you banter by the coffee machine for weeks, took a sip of her own coffee. “Of course they do.”JJ narrowed her eyes. “So we’re still pretending they’re not into each other?”“Guess so, Jayje.”

That morning, you handed Luke his coffee with a smirk. “Black, no sugar, just the way you like it.”He took the cup with a smile as he stepped closer. “See, this is why you’re my favourite.”“Your favourite what?” You tilted your head, grinning.

He held your gaze. “Everything.”

He said it so smoothly, so effortlessly, that you actually stumbled trying to find a response.

He laughed, winking as he walked away, leaving you to glare after him.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath, but your lips betrayed you, curling into a smile anyway.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

Luke pulled up to your place, putting the SUV in park before turning to look at you fully.

“You want me to walk you up?” he asked, voice lighter now but still with that edge of concern.

“Luke, I barely got knocked out. I didn’t get shot.”

“Didn’t answer my cariño.”

Your stomach did a stupid little flip. Of course it did.

You rolled your eyes as you opened the car door. “Fine, come on. Since you’re so worried about me.”

Luke chuckled, getting out and following up the short path to your front door.

You weren’t sure what made you say it- maybe it was the warmth of the night, maybe it was the fact that this had been building for so damn long, or maybe it indeed was the fact that you had got hit in the head today-

But before you could think too hard, you turned to him and asked:

“Do you wanna come in?”

He blinked. “What?”

You lifted a brow, shrugging to feign nonchalance. “I have wine. Unless… you’ve got somewhere better to be?”

Something flickered in his gaze. Something dark, something interested.

Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips. “I could be convinced,” he murmured.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

The door clicked shut behind the two of you as you stepped into your home, the low hum of the city outside fading into the warmth of your place.

Luke shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair as he looked around. “You know, I was starting to think I’d never see the inside of your place,” he teased.

You smirked, heading to the kitchen. “That’s because you weren’t invited. Until now.”

He let out a chuckle as he followed you in. “Ah, so I should feel honoured?”

You glanced over your shoulder, grabbing a bottle of wine. “Very.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you grab two glasses. “I’ll try not to let the privilege go to my head.”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile was evident as you poured the wine, handing him a glass before clinking yours against his. “To surviving another case.”

His dark eyes held yours. “To you getting through it in one piece.”

“Oh, so now you wanna admit you were worried?” You took a sip, letting the warmth of the wine spread through you. 

Luke scoffed, setting his glass down. “I never denied it.”

You arched a brow playfully. “Mhm, but you evaded the question. Besides, you were hovering over me like I was on my deathbed.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “You hit your head. You were on the ground longer than I liked. And if the paramedics had concluded you had a concussion, then what?”

You tilted your head, studying him. There was something more behind his words. A tension in his shoulders. Something unspoken.

You set your own glass down. “Luke.”

His jaw tensed. “What?”

“You don’t have to play it off.”

He met your gaze, something flickering in his eyes.

For a moment, neither of you spoke- the silence was tense.

Then, finally, Luke sighed as he ran a hand over his face. “I was worried,” he admitted. “More than I should be. More than I want to be.”

You swallowed. “Why?”

He let out a breath, shaking his head. “Because you-” He stopped, looking down at his wine glass as his grip tightened around the edge of the counter. “Because it’s you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. And then several more. “Luke-”

He lifted his gaze back to yours, something raw in his expression. “You know what I mean.”

You did.

Your stomach flipped as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter, your mouth suddenly dry despite the wine.

The air shifted between you.

Something that had always been there, present but unspoken, settled into place.

You licked your lips, voice quieter now. “Say it.”

Luke let out a soft, almost breathless chuckle. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

You nodded, taking a step closer. “I really am.”

He studied you for a moment, searching your face for something. Maybe hesitation. Maybe doubt.

But he didn’t find either.

He sighed, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass as his voice lowered. “You drive me crazy.”

Your lips twitched. “That’s one way to start a confession.”

Luke huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I mean it, cariño. Since the day you walked into that bullpen, I knew.” He let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everyone knew.  Rossi. Prentiss. Even Reid, and that man is oblivious when it comes to this stuff. Hell, we’re the only ones who’ve been pretending this isn’t happening.”

“What isn’t happening?”

Luke gave you a look. “Us.”

Your breath caught.

There it was. 

The unspoken thing finally given a name.

You inhaled deeply, exhaling through your nose. “Took you long enough.”

Luke blinked. “Excuse me?”

You grinned, stepping fully into his space now. “I’ve been waiting for you to admit it, Alvez.”

His lips parted slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to turn the tables on him.

You set your glass down next to his, then tilted your head, voice dropping just a bit. “So what are we gonna do about it?”

Luke let out a slow, almost exasperated breath, his fingers twitching at his sides.

After what felt like an eternity, he reached for you.

It wasn’t tentative.

It wasn’t hesitant.

It was deliberate.

One of his hands slid to your waist, the other to the side of your face, fingers warm against your skin.

He hovered there for a moment, so damn close. His lips barely a breath away.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice was quiet, almost like he was giving you an out.

You exhaled, eyes locked onto his. “Not a chance in hell.”

And that was all it took.

Luke kissed you.

Hard, deep, like he had been holding back for eons, and the floodgates had finally been opened.

You melted into him, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

He groaned softly against your lips, his grip tightening at your waist. His other hand slid into your hair, tilting your head just right as he kissed you deeper.

And God, it was everything.

The months of tension. The teasing looks. The incessant flirting.

All of it boiled down to this.

You broke away only when the need for air became undeniable, your forehead resting against his.

Luke exhaled a shaky breath. "We should stop."

You hummed, lips still aching from his. "Why?"

His fingers flexed slightly at your waist. "Because I don’t wanna be drunk when I take this further."

Your heart stuttered.

Then, warmth spread through your chest, because damn it, that was the most Luke Alvez thing he could have said.

You swallowed, heart pounding. "You wanna take this further?"

Luke let out a soft chuckle, brushing his thumb against your hip. "Tell me you don’t."

You bit your lip, shaking your head. "I’d be lying."

Luke grinned, pressing the quickest, softest kiss to your lips before pulling back.

"Then let’s do this right," he murmured.

You let out a small, breathless laugh. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

Luke chuckled, low and rough. "Yeah, I’ve heard."

You kissed him again, softer this time, just because you could.

Then, after a long pause-

"Stay?" you whispered.

Luke exhaled, pressing another slow kiss to your lips before murmuring, "Yeah. I'll stay."

[simp-ly-writes]

House of Talis

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.13)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: With a miniature Talis on the way, you grow weary of how your husband will react.

─ · · TAGS: epilogue kinda, fem!reader, pregnancy and labour (non-descriptive), overprotectiveness, second-person perspective, depictions of panic/anxiety, happy ending, domestic fluff, married life.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,036

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: hope you enjoy, this is the finale!

─────── · ·

─ · · After the two weeks of Jayce... putting you 'out of commission' so to speak. You were embarrassed to say just how foggy your mind and sore your body felt going back into the everyday swing of things; going to the lab, helping graduate students with their studies at the academy, and writing thank you letters to the wedding gifts you received from foreign diplomats... your brain was fried before the clock had even hit noon and you hadn't even started on editing your book to be published by the end of the year.

─ · · You felt disorientated, the stark pick-up of life again after feeling like you were floating of bliss from days of end to powering on your mind to think critically and converse with the public had you feeling increasingly overwhelmed as the hours ticked by and days progressed. You woke up happy- sure a little woozy but feeling fine, by mid-morning you were stressed, afternoon?- sad and longing to see Jayce and before you knew it evening hit and you were getting pissed off at Evren.

─ · · Evren had decided to stay and had gotten a job at the Academy. He loved riling you up about your's and Jayce's vacation period- watching as your cheeks warmed and the way you shuffled on your feet before trying to change conversation. Evren also had started a committed relationship with Jayce's ex-secretary that served as perfect rebuttal for all of his questions.

─ · · It was finally Friday, you had survived your first week back by a hair and were anxious to leave the Academy on time to be home ahead of Jayce- a handful of letters and your best friend the only barriers from leaving.

"Evren! I'm trying to work and you keep distracting me," you whine, rubbing your hands across your tired face, "can you talk to me in an hour? I just have to get these letters in before the office closes."

Evren stares at you for a long while, leaning back in his chair across from your desk with a small smile appearing on his face, his foot bouncing on his knee as he looks out the window contemplative. You look up, seeing that he hadn't left yet with a sigh, now looking at you with a mixture of joy and... concern? "What?" you ask, yourwince again at how sharp your tone appears as you apologize softly before double checking your writing.

"Do you feel... different?" Evren asks quietly, leaning forwards slightly to make the conversation feel smaller, you slowly tare your gaze back up while sealing the envelope, "different? well yes, I just came back from vacation, Ev," you explain with a chuckle before standing up quickly to grab your coat once seeing the time.

You stumble slightly forwards as Evren rushes to a stand and level yourself, "woah there short stuff, I'm really worried, I think you-"

"I'm feeling fine, Evren. Just need some more sleep and I should be good as new," you cut him off and explain, shrugging off his touch and shrugging on your coat before opening the door and signalling your friend out of the laboratory to lock for the day.

Evren stands still within the space, shaking his head and pulls you back in, shutting the door once hearing footsteps down the hall. He keeps his hands gripping your shoulders, unknowing to how you'll react to his next works. You watch as his glasses slip down his nose, exploring his stressed face fully. "Ev?" you call out, blinking and taking in his rigid stance, "everything alright?"

"I'm fine its just..." Evren sighs, choosing his next words with extreme caution, "...fuck it I'm just going to say it. Are you pregnant?" You blink once... twice... then thrice at his words. At first you are appalled, opening your mouth for what you thought to be a poor off-hand comment before quickly shutting your mouth as panic sets in and you analyze your recent week...

Nausea, mood-swings, fatigue, and tender muscles... fuck. Evren watches as a dozen emotions cross over your face before you feel him pulling you into a firm hug as your body starts to shake. "Ev?" you ask in a timid tone, gripping his back tightly- almost certainly ruining his knit sweater.

"Ev I," you choke up on your words, blink profusely as Even stands there holding you and rubs your back gently. "Hey, I'm here with you in the lab and you're picking apart my girlfriends least favourite sweater I own- she'll thank you for that." You barely process a laugh before choking back a sob, pressing your head into his chest.

"What tears are those?" Evren asks gently, "I just need to know if I have to get out my old kickboxing equipment or not." That comment has you coming back to the surface as you shake your head. "No, Jayce and I have wanted to start a family," you pull away looking down at your shoes, "I think I'm happy but I'm also just... scared- I just. I've never been through something like this..." you bite your lip, furrowing your brow before opening your eyes wide to meet Evren's curious gaze, " shit how far along am I? I should go see my doctor..."

Evren's nods, "yes, that would be a very good idea... should I let Jayce or someone of Jayce's office know?" You pause, thinking for a moment, "...no, I want to do that once I know for sure." Evren nods before extending his arm for you to take, you grip his arm like a lifeline, locking the door- feeling a cool wisp of air follow you out, thank you for the support, Viktor, I really need it now more than ever.

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce could feel every mark you left across his back and neck, groaning every time he move from a sitting to standing position in between meetings. Mel tried not to laugh seeing her fellow councillor wince at someone slapping his shoulder in thanks a bit too hard (while it was done lightly) or how poorly his collar covered the bites across his neck- doing his best to remain professional and keep conversations surrounding the city not his personal life to the many curious stares.

─ · · His eyes are heavy, hair dishevelled by how many times he's wrung his fingers through it as he sits behind his desk meeting with tradesman after officer, hearing out how the city was developing.

─ · · When Jayce gets wind of you at the clinic, his heart dropped, hands gripping the wood of his desk and shoulders tense as he stood up slowly and rigid. Sudden images of you in that Piltover of despair, the smell of blood and the sight of a thousand corpses had him breathing in sharply through his nose before he was rushing to get his coat and sprinting down the cobbled streets. Please be okay, please be okay, fuck, please, Jayce prayed, taking a sharp right turn and nearly bumping into someone.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your feet swung back and forth off the table, your hand gripped Evren's tightly as you waited not so patiently for the results. You both looked towards the door, hearing a commotion from outside, rushed footsteps, heavy breathing and a sharp tone. "No. I must- my wife-"

"Councillor Talis. You must understand that-"

"What do I fail to understand? She came to a doctor suddenly without prior appointment and was seen nearly in tears by some of her students- please, at least let me see her if I can't speak with her- or let her know I'm here for her-" You bite your lip, seeing Jayce's tall outline from behind the curtained windows before looking towards Evren nervously seeing as his jaw is tense, shoulders rigid, "How'd he know so quickly?" Evren mumbles to himself, "Thought we were better at this hiding thing," he jokes.

That gets you to laugh as you loosen your grip on his hand, immediately the voices stop from outside. Jayce closes his eyes at the sound, relief flooding through his mind, you were alive, you were laughing, yet his hands still shook, needing to see you, to hold you, to physically know you were alright.

Jayce stays firm in his position as a nurse grips his arms, urging him back to the visitors gallery yet the Councillor watches as a doctor walks down the hall and towards the room he believes you to be in, two nurses follow behind, clipboards and bags tightly pressed against their chest as Jayce's heart leaps out of his own.

He see's a flash of your hair before the door is closed swiftly behind the group of medical professionals. Jayce takes a step forwards, another nurse grips his other arm, they shake their heads, "Mrs. Talis has not requested for you... yet. Please respect the lady's decision."

Jayce grits his teeth before nodding and following them back, not before looking and trying to stare through the door, eyes begging to catch another glimpse... instead Jayce glares at the white tiled floors, ears filled with white noise as he bounces his knee anxiously. Head jumping to every sudden sound he can hear down the hall.

Jayce's heart hurts as much as his brain, trying to figure out why didn't you immediately call for me?

─────── · ·

─ · · "Mrs. Talis," the doctor bends down in front of you face stoic yet eyes gleaming with happiness that she tries and hides. "Yes?" you respond, leaning forwards, a subconscious hand moving towards your stomach in wait. "Congratulations, you are expecting," she announces.

─ · · You stare at her for a moment before your shaky hands grasp the paper results, pressing them against your chest, feeling your rapid heartbeat. Evren stands off to the side, giving you space to feel out the moment. Your eyes look up at his, shining with tears as you let out a chuckle in disbelief, "I'm pregnant," you state softly and slowly to yourself, "I'm pregnant!" you say with much more confidence, "oh god, I'm pregnant," you tell yourself.

Evren laughs unsurprised that you and Jayce were having kids so shortly after your wedding, "you have no idea how much money you just made me, thank you and congrats!" Evren grasps your shoulder pulling you in for a hug. You shake your head at your friend. "I don't even know what to do-I-"

"Shush you. You have me, Jayce's mom, Jayce- who I'm sure is going to be a mother hen and is loosing his mind over you again..." Evren trails off patting your back as you pull away," I guess I should tell Jayce now?" you question.

The doctors, nurses, and Evren all look at you, slowly nodding, "I think thats a good idea, ma'am."

─────── · ·

─ · · You don't look to see the door open, the room is dead silent as you stare at your shoes, head lowered. Jayce curses, footsteps rushed as he kneels in front on you, hands resting on your knees, chin lowering to your lap, "sweetheart?" he calls out so softly you felt yourself falling for him again.

You hear as Evren gags in the corner, picking up your head a slight bit to catch the glare Jayce throws back, biting the inside of your cheek to contain a laugh. Jayce thinks you to be crying by the way your shoulders jitter, hands racing to hold your waist as he kisses the top of your head. "I'm here, always. Tell me what I can do- or I can listen, whatever you need," Jayce holds you so delicately, not wanting to overwhelm you but not being able to stop his need to ground himself to you physically.

You don't answer right away, instead peeling his hands away from yourself as you observe his eyes that stare widely into your own, confused, worried.... scared as you drop your touch, his hands shaking down by his sides.

Evren clears his throat, "She's not divorcing you man, stop thinking that." Jayce looks to you, shoulders slumped, eyes begging like a puppy kept out in the rain. The word alone sends him into a stressed state as he begins pacing around the room, gripping at his tie and shirt that feels too tight all the sudden, "No, please- I. I'll do better I promise I- you don't have to leave," Jayce begs.

"Jayce, I'm not divorcing you," you cut off your husband, standing slowly and walking over, pressing your head against his back, looping your fingers through his belt loops and glaring at Evren, look what you did. Evren simply raises his hands, backing out of the room and closing the door.

Jayce lets out a breath, placing his hands atop yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing yourself tightly against him, "I'm pregnant, Jayce. You're going to be a father."

Jayce blinks slowly, breath hitching as he stills in your hold, me... a father... wife... pregnant... "Jayce?" you call out, panic settling into your bones again at the sudden thought of having to do this all alone.

Jayce spins around in your hold, picking you up quickly, peppering your face with kisses as you laugh, "my wife, my gorgeous wife pregnant with my baby." Jayce thinks he couldn't be happier, does not know the words to formulate how perfect his life feels right now.

You nods your head at his words as he gently sets you down on the table, hands cupping your stomach, "I'm mad at you though Jayce."

"What? Why?" Jayce asks without a care in the world, brain not registering your words- still trying to fathom that his every wish, every dream had come true in this room. He blinks away tears of happiness, smile spreading across his cheeks- unable to be ripped from his features. "Im. mad. at. you. Jayce," you slowly articulate, "we agreed to have one later and you knocked me up!"

Jayce merely shrugs, willing nothing to break his happiness as he kisses you deeply, "It's my fault-hm? All my fault..." Jayce kisses you slowly, you can feel his smile on your skin and the rumble on his chest against your palm as he laughs, nipping your ear gently, "... on how you got on your knees for me underneath the dining table, pawed at my lap pleading or woke me up begging for me to fuck you? How about all those times you locked your ankles around my waist and squeezed hard enough to-"

"OKAY!~" you sing, shoving a palm over his mouth, flushed. Jayce just steps back admiring you. "What?" you ask back seeing as Jayce continues to stare.

"I'm just so thankful for you and all the happiness you've allowed me to have." A suddenly you start crying uncontrollably, Jayce curses rushing over, "fuck, shit, uh I'm sorry, didn't mean to make you cry- I'm such an idiot, I know."

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce had gone full-blown overprotective and it was getting on your nerves how little he allowed you to do. He called his mother to move in with you both and to watch over your take care of you! You loved talking and spending time with Ximena but she was just as bad if not worse than Jayce.

"No! You're stressing too much by working, just relax my dear, let's take a short walk around the garden." Or, "you shouldn't be bending down to fetch the laundry, please allow me."

─ · · Their care was endearing as it came from a place of love but it was also mind-numbing not being able to leave the house on your own for an errand no matter how quick and short distance it was. You also were frustrated about not being able to go back to the lab or your office during the day as Evren would somehow always catch you and send you back home with a smirk, "don't worry! Once that kid is born you and Jayce will be fighting over who gets to stay home~" you glare at his cheery-tone as he walks you back to your front door and into an awaiting Ximena who taps her foot in wait.

─ · · As soon as Jayce comes home, Ximena allows you to rush up to him and throw practically yourself into his arms, "Jay, I'm so bored please let me do more than drink tea and water plants all day. I'm sure I'd be fine taking one trip by myself to the market or hosting an office session-"

And like every other conversation you had on the matter, his answer never changed, "No, I just don't want you over-working yourself. If you want we can go out together later." (and you struggled to throw your shoes at his face, with love of course).

─────── · ·

─ · · When you feel your water break, the entire household has exploded into panic. Ximena who had been so worried and cautious over you had you feeling whiplash from how quickly she changed to cool and assertive as she held your hand and wiped the sweat from your forehead with a cool-cloth while waiting for transit to the hospital.

─ · · Evren was blowing up your phone and when you arrived at the hospital was walking alongside you throwing question after question, hands running through his hair, glasses askew, "are you thirsty?" "how are your contractions?" "you'll tell me if you feel off, alright?" "what do you-"

Ximena precedes to slap his arm and if that did not work, splashes a cup of water on his face to shock him out of his panic. Evren finally sits in a corner of the room, staring off into the distance to maintain his breathing. You take one look at your mother-in-law who only shakes her head, "the men always act like its them giving birth," and you laugh, hard.

─ · · Jayce practically rips the door off its hinges to get into the room quick enough and slides to your side, kissing your forehead and brushing the hair away from your eyes. "I'm here, never gonna leave you, not again," you nod, smiling at his words before gripping his hand tightly.

Jayce grits his teeth knowing that in these moments, he could not make one comment about the pain. Ximena smiles, nodding to her son approvingly as he places his other hand atop your connected ones.

─────── · ·

─ · · "ONCE THIS KID IS OUT JAYCE, I"M GOING TO KILL YOU," you scream at Jayce part way through. He just nods his head in agreement feeling utter guilt for being the reason you are in such pain, "yup, I know, I know, I'll dig the grave and everything before hand."

"You better," you grip his hand even tighter if that was possible and Jayce debates if he'll even have his left hand by the of it.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your first child would be a girl and a few years later you both would have a middle-child boy and a few years after that, a youngest girl.

─ · · There was never a boring nor quiet morning in the House of Talis as all the children had taken after your's and Jayce's tinkering and science interests. It would be considered a more quiet day if only one part of the house caught on fire. On that note, many people did not want to babysit for your children.... even your closest of friends as the kids only wanted to listen to their mom and dad.

─ · · Evren had lost his eyebrows in under two hours after your son had prototyped a flame thrower using scrap parts in Jayce's workshop in the backyard.

─ · · Vi and Caitlyn both ended up in emergency care after trying to play a game with the children that became overly-competitive, your kids coming unscratched and victorious as they showed the nurses the trophy they crafted from stick and rocks.

─ · · Ximena almost had a heart attack in watching the kids take turns in their make-shift sleds made from blankets and pillows down the stairs and nearly crashing into the front door if Jayce didn't step through the threshold a moment earlier to catch them.

─ · · But in perfect opposition, when you and Jayce would take your kids into your respective workplaces they acted as angels. Listening, silently observing what you both were working on and asking questions to learn more. (Evren was weirded out beyond belief once observing this quote 'phenomenon' and was mildly offended that you barley had to do anything and they just listened to you).

─────── · ·

─ · · Once your kids came of age, Jayce would step down from the council so that your eldest could pick up the metaphorical torch and continue your houses name. You would also step down from your position within the academy and become an occasional spokesperson/seasonal lecturer.

─ · · In this newfound spare time you had together, you and Jayce went back to your roots, spending all your time in the backyard workshop working on all the projects you left unfinished decades ago.

─ · · It was peaceful, a record playing in the background, window slightly open and desks right beside one another as you leaned your head on your husbands shoulder while reading through your notes. Jayce was breaking down a trinket at his desk, humming softly with the melody of the song.

─ · · So lost in your thoughts you didn't realize Jayce had finished with his work as he looked down at you, observing the crease in your brow. "Everything alright, sweetheart?"

You blink, forgetting what you were even staring at as pick your head off his shoulder, "I'm fine... just thinking," you shrug, standing up to stretch before feeling Jayce's hands wrap around your waist pulling you into his lap. His chin rests on your shoulder, beard scratching the exposed skin of your neck, "what were you thinking about?- you looked serious," he chuckles, you call feel the reverberations against your back.

"Just thinking about how old you are now," you tease, fighting off a grin as you turn in his lap to catch his offended gasp. "I'm not much older than you," Jayce childishly retorts, squeezing your hip, "but seriously, whats wrong?"

You pause, smile dropping, "I just wonder how different life would have been if I had chosen different things." You feel Jayce tense, his hold loosening on you.

"Oh," his tone distant, "...do you regret anything... do you regret this?" his voice barley a whisper. You lean back, pressing a kiss against his jaw as you smile at all the silver hairs mixed in his beard.

"Never," you speak honestly, "....just maybe not meeting you sooner." Jayce wraps his arms around your front, holding you close.

"I regret that too then," Jayce exaggerates a pout. You roll your eyes, "I was being genuine!"

"I was too," he retorts, patting your thigh in a silent as for you to stand. You comply, extending your hand to help him up that he takes and holds as you both walk back to the house yet Jayce freezes half way causing you to pause, turning to face him already seeing as he looks down at you.

Eyes a mixture adoration and something you can't pinpoint just yet, "Jay?" you call out, searching his face for clues only to receive no answer as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"Thank you for staying with me... I..." he pauses, stumbling on his words, "...I wouldn't know myself now... wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you."

You smile reaching up to pull his face forward and press a kiss to his cheek, "thank you too, Mr. Talis." Your heart races seeing the recognition flood his eyes, "now how does some coffee sound?"

"Sounds perfect, Mrs. Talis."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: thank you to all those who decided to stick with this story, it was the best of time... it was the worst of times (lol). But I hope you all enjoyed nonetheless!

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz @hellokittyluvr69420 @mommymilkers0526 @whatislifebutlemons

[yjw1a1]

The Space Between The Unsaid | PSH

PAIRING. Park Sunghoon x female reader. GENRE. contemporary romance, coming of age, drama and angst WORD COUNT. 6481 WARNINGS. angst and reader is lowkey annoying. DISCLAIMER. I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT FOR THE WORK I WROTE, SO PLAGIARISM IS NOT ALLOWED HERE. all the credits to the owners of the photos. Please be kind. :) SUMMARY. Y/N has spent her whole life playing a role—perfect daughter, untouchable socialite, the girl everyone admires but no one really knows. As the only child of Korea’s most celebrated actor and a former supermodel, she’s been raised in a world where appearances matter more than reality. But behind the curated image, Y/N feels like a ghost in her own life—trapped in a cold house, wearing a name that doesn’t feel like hers Then there’s Sunghoon.The boy next door. The only real thing in her world. From the moment they met as children, Sunghoon has been her anchor—her escape. In his home, filled with warmth and chaos, Y/N learns what it means to belong. But as they grow up, the lines between them blur. Sunghoon watches, caught between wanting to save her and knowing she doesn’t want to be saved. The weight of everything unspoken between them threatens to crack because Y/N grows tired of playing pretend. And maybe, just maybe—he’s finally tired of pretending, too. Because some love stories are quiet. Some never get the right words. But some, no matter how long it takes, refuse to stay unsaid.

DATE RELEASED . 03.02.2025

Y/N KNEW SHE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE OUTSIDE. She could still hear her mother’s voice echoing in the back of her mind Don’t ruin your dress. Don’t go where people can see you like that.

Like that. Like a child. Like someone who didn’t belong to the world her parents had built.

But right now, she didn’t care.

Her fingers curled around the handlebars of the tiny pink bicycle, the one she had found abandoned in the garage when they moved in. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t hers. But for some reason, she liked it.

She had never owned anything that wasn’t perfect before. She tried to lift it upright, arms trembling slightly from the effort. It was heavier than she expected, and her shoes slipped against the smooth pavement as she struggled. Still, she didn’t stop.

Until the front door swung open.

“What are you doing?”

Y/N flinched.

Her mother’s voice was sharp, like it always was when she caught Y/N doing something she shouldn’t be. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, beautiful and cold all at once.

“That’s not yours.”

Y/N swallowed hard, quickly letting go of the bike, as if it had burned her.

“I know.”

Her mother sighed. “Come inside. You have your etiquette lesson in twenty minutes.”

And just like that, the door closed again.

Leaving Y/N stranded in their driveway. 

She let out a quiet breath, fingers tightening into the fabric of her dress.

She hated this house. She hated the way the glass windows made it feel like a museum, not a home. She hated the way her father was never there and how her mother only spoke to her when she needed to. She hated the way everything was supposed to be perfect, but it never, ever felt right.

Most of all, she hated that she hadn’t even tried to argue.

That she never did.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.

“Hey.”

Y/N gasped, turning sharply.

There was a boy standing a few feet away. He was around her age, taller than her but not by much, with dark hair that fell into his eyes and a jacket that looked too big for his frame.

She had never seen him before. But when she followed his gaze, she realized—he had been watching.

Watching her struggle. Watching her mother scold her. Watching her freeze instead of fighting back.

A sudden wave of embarrassment crashed over her. She hated being watched.

The boy hesitated, then nodded toward the bike. “Do you want help?”

Y/N stared at him.

Most boys she knew only talked to her because of her last name. Because of her parents. Because they wanted something.

But he didn’t look at her like that.

He just… looked at her.

Like she was a normal seven year old girl standing in the driveway of a house that didn’t feel like hers, struggling with a bike that didn’t belong to her.

She bit the inside of her cheek, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides.

Then, finally—she nodded. The boy stepped forward, easily pulling the bike upright.

Y/N didn’t know why, but the sight of it—the way he helped her so casually, so effortlessly, like it was the easiest thing in the world—made her chest feel strangely tight.

She swallowed. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “It’s my younger sister’s. She won’t care.”

She blinked. “Your sister?”

He nodded, pointing at the house next door. “We live there.”

Y/N glanced over.

His house was smaller than hers, a little older, with a front yard full of toys and a porch light that flickered faintly in the dim evening. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t polished.

But it looked warm.

And for a reason she didn’t understand, that made her chest ache.

She looked back at him, studying his face carefully, like she was trying to figure out if she should say something else.

Then, without thinking, she smiled. Not the kind of smile her mother taught her—the polite, camera-ready one. A real one. The boy seemed surprised at first. Then he smiled back. 

“I’m Sunghoon, by the way,”

And just like that, Y/N met the first real person in her life.

She didn’t know it then, but years later, she would look back at this moment—the pink bicycle, the cold house, the boy next door—and realize:

This was the day Sunghoon became the only safe thing she had ever known.

Y/N had never been inside Sunghoon’s house before.

She had spent years watching from afar—the warm light spilling from the windows, the way laughter echoed through the halls, the way his mother called for him and his younger sister, Yeji, as if their names were the most precious things in the world.

It was different from her house.

Her house was always too quiet. Too pristine. Too much like a place people admired, but never really lived in.

But tonight, for the first time, she was here.

And she was terrified.

“Just sit,” Sunghoon said, nudging her toward the couch. “Yeji’s excited to see you.”

“I barely know her,” Y/N murmured, hesitating.

“She doesn’t care. She likes you.”

That was hard to believe. Yeji had always been a blur of energy—tiny, loud, and endlessly curious. Whenever Y/N had seen her before, she had been running after Sunghoon, demanding piggyback rides or showing off her latest bruises like they were trophies. She was the kind of child who lived freely, without hesitation.

The kind of child Y/N had never been allowed to be.

A small voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Y/N?”

She turned.

Yeji was standing in the doorway, her dark hair pulled into two messy pigtails, eyes round with excitement. She was holding something in her hands—a coloring book, worn at the edges, its pages filled with crayon scribbles.

“Will you color with me?”

Y/N blinked.

Color?

She had never been allowed to color. Her mother said it was messy. A waste of time. Something only children with too much freedom did.

But when Yeji grinned at her, bouncing slightly on her toes, something in Y/N softened.

“Okay.”

The younger girl let out a cheer, dragging her toward the coffee table. She opened the book to a half-colored picture of a castle, then shoved a handful of crayons into Y/N’s hands.

“You can be princess pink,” Yeji declared. “I’ll be sky blue.”

Y/N looked down at the crayon between her fingers. It was slightly melted at the tip, broken in the middle. Imperfect.

But for some reason, she liked it.

She hesitated at first, unsure of how to start. Her hands hovered over the page, fingers stiff, her mind flooded with the echo of her mother’s voice. Neat lines. No mess. No mistakes.

But when Yeji began scribbling away with no regard for the lines at all, laughing at the way her blue crayon clashed with the pink rooftops, Y/N felt something in her chest loosen.

She pressed the crayon to the page and let it glide across the paper.

The world didn’t end. No one scolded her. Nothing was ruined.

She exhaled.

And she kept coloring.

Sunghoon’s parents walked by a few minutes later, pausing when they saw her sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Yeji, completely focused on filling in the castle walls.

“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Sunghoon’s mother whispered to his father.

His father chuckled. “I always knew she was more than just that fancy house next door.”

Y/N’s face warmed, but she kept coloring.

After that night, everything changed.

Y/N started coming over more often.

At first, she told herself it was just to return the coloring book Yeji had let her borrow. Then it was because Sunghoon had offered to help her with her math homework. Then it was because she had nothing to do at home, and sitting alone in her room made her feel like she was suffocating.

Eventually, she stopped making excuses. Sunghoon’s house became her escape.

She sat with Yeji on the porch, helping her braid her dolls’ hair. She let Sunghoon’s mother fuss over her, feeding her warm bowls of rice and soup when she claimed she “wasn’t that hungry” (even though, deep down, she was). She listened to Sunghoon and his father bicker over soccer matches and let herself laugh when his mother smacked them both with a dish towel.

It was loud. Chaotic. Messy.

And she loved it.

One afternoon, Yeji grabbed Y/N’s hand, dragging her toward the backyard.

“Come play!” she insisted. “We’re playing tag, and you’re it.”

“I don’t know how to—”

But Yeji had already taken off, giggling as she ran through the grass.

Sunghoon smirked. “She’s fast. You better catch up.”

Y/N hesitated.

She had never played tag before.

She had never run through the grass in bare feet, never let herself laugh just for the sake of laughing, never felt like she was allowed to be young. But when Yeji turned back and stuck her tongue out, teasing her, something in Y/N snapped. And for the first time in her life—she ran.

She chased after Yeji, her laughter ringing through the air, her lungs burning in the best way possible. Sunghoon’s parents watched from the back porch, smiling at the sight.

“She’s different when she’s here,” his mother murmured.

His father nodded. “Like a kid.”

“Like she’s home.” And maybe, in a way, she was.

It happened so naturally that Y/N didn’t even realize when she started calling Sunghoon’s parents Auntie and Uncle.

It slipped out one evening when she was helping set the table, laughing at something Sunghoon said. She had turned to his mother without thinking.

“Auntie, do you want me to grab more napkins?”

The room went silent. Y/N froze. Her throat tightened. She wasn’t supposed to say that. She wasn’t supposed to—

But then, Sunghoon’s mother smiled. “Of course, dear,” she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And just like that, Y/N wasn’t just a guest anymore. She belonged.

Yeji started calling her unnie—big sister. She would crawl into Y/N’s lap during movie nights, curling against her like she had always been there.

Sunghoon’s father would ruffle her hair when he passed by, teasing her about how she was “too serious for a kid” but smiling when she finally let herself joke back.

Sunghoon’s mother made sure there was always an extra plate at dinner, even on nights when Y/N didn’t come over—just in case.

And when Y/N went home at the end of the night, stepping back into the cold, empty house next door, she carried their warmth with her.

She didn’t say it out loud. But in her heart, she knew. This was her real family.

Being the only child of Korea's hottest actor and stellar model, Y/N had always been the center of attention. Even in high school, when the rules of popularity became more complicated— it wasn’t just about who you were, but who you were willing to be.

People gravitated toward her without hesitation. They laughed at her jokes even when they weren’t funny, clung to her presence like it meant something. She was the kind of person everyone wanted to be close to, even if they didn’t know why.

And she played along. She always did.

She let them love the version of her they thought they knew.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon stayed exactly the same.

He had his small group of friends, the ones who didn’t care about school dances or lunch table politics. The quiet, antisocial types who spent more time talking about their pokemon cards or some new meme that only they found funny. They kept to themselves, content in their own world.

They had no reason to interact with Y/N.

And yet—Sunghoon was always there.

Despite everything, despite how different their worlds were, despite the fact that neither of their friend groups understood it, Sunghoon was the one person who had never drifted from her orbit.

He didn’t try to belong in her world.

And somehow, that’s what made him feel like the only real part of it.

“Why do you even hang out with him?” 

Y/N heard the question more times than she could count. It always came in some variation—curious, teasing, sometimes even pitying. People never understood.

Today, it came from Gia, one of the girls who had attached herself to Y/N sometime in sophomore year. She had asked the question before. But this time, Y/N could tell it was different.

“You know, you don’t need to be with people who bring your status lower. You’re doing charity work Y/N!”

Gia’s gaze flickered toward the far side of the cafeteria, where Sunghoon sat with his usual group—heads down, engaged in conversation, completely detached from everything happening around them. 

Y/N barely hesitated before responding. “Because he’s my best friend.”

Gia snorted. “Seriously?”

Y/N just shrugged, unfazed. She didn’t expect her to understand, when she too was no different from the people in her fathers and mothers circle. 

Gia leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was about to tell a secret. “You know he doesn’t fit in with us, right?”

Us.

Y/N smiled, but there was something in her expression—something sharp, something knowing.

She leaned back in her seat, gaze steady. “Maybe I don’t fit in with you, either.”

Gia blinked.

She opened her mouth, like she wanted to argue, but something in the way Y/N said it—the way she held her gaze, unshaken—made her stop.

And just like that, the conversation ended.

Later that day, after school, Y/N found Sunghoon leaning against the gate outside, waiting for her like he always did.

She didn’t have to ask why.

She didn’t have to say anything at all.

He glanced up as she approached, shifting Y/N’s backpack onto his other shoulder.

“Let me guess,” he said, voice dry. “Someone asked why you’re still friends with me.”

Y/N grinned. “Bingo.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “And? What did you say this time?”

She gave him a look. “The usual. That you’re secretly in love with me, obviously.”

Sunghoon scoffed, shoving her lightly as his ears turned pink. “Shut up.”

She laughed, bumping her shoulder against his before they started walking together, falling into step like they had been doing this for years. Because no matter what changed—the people, the expectations, the shifting lines between friendship and something more—Y/N and Sunghoon never did.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because some friendships were supposed to fade. But there's never did.

And that meant it was only a matter of time before it either broke apart completely or turned into something else entirely.

Sunghoon had always known Y/N.

He had known her as the quiet girl who pressed her fingers into the fabric of her dress when she was upset. The girl who colored outside the lines with Yeji like it was the first time anyone had let her. The girl who smiled at everyone like she was perfectly fine, even when her house felt more like a museum than a home.

He had known her before everyone else did—before she became the kind of person people worshipped in high school, before she learned how to belong to a world that wasn’t built for her.

And maybe that was why it hurt so much.

Because he also knew the version of her that no one else did. The one who kept choosing the wrong guys. The ones who didn’t deserve her. The ones who made her feel like she had to prove something.

It started with Minjae.

Sunghoon knew from the moment he saw the guy smirking at Y/N in the hallway that it was going to be a problem.

“He’s a dick,” Sunghoon said bluntly, watching as Minjae leaned against Y/N’s locker like he owned it.

Y/N sighed, stuffing books into her bag. “You say that about every guy I talk to.”

“Yeah, because every guy you talk to is a dick.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know him.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “I don’t need to. He’s the kind of guy who thinks girls are collectibles. You’re just the rarest one he’s found.”

Y/N stilled for half a second before shaking her head. “It’s not that deep, Sunghoon.”

But Sunghoon saw the way she looked away. The way her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

And a few months later, when Minjae stopped texting her back, when she acted like she didn’t care but refused to talk about it—Sunghoon wasn’t surprised.

Because this was how it always went. The pattern didn’t change.

In college, Jisung, the musician, was next. He played guitar, wrote songs about girls, and never answered her messages until after 11pm. Then there was Taehyun—the business major with expensive cologne and cold smiles.

“You know, I’m starting to think you like assholes,” Sunghoon muttered one night, arms crossed as he watched Y/N stare at her phone. She was waiting for a text that wasn’t coming. Again.

“I don’t—” she started, but Sunghoon gave her a look, and she groaned. “Okay, fine. Maybe I have bad taste.”

Sunghoon snorted. “Maybe?”

Y/N shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

Sunghoon leaned back against the couch. “You could do better.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Says who?”

He frowned. “Says me.”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment. Then she shook her head. “I don’t need saving, Sunghoon.”

“I never said you did.” His voice was quieter now. “I just think you deserve more than this.”

Y/N forced a smile, but Sunghoon could tell it was fake. “It’s just how things are, Hoon.”

And for the first time, Sunghoon realized—she actually believed that. She wasn’t picking these guys by accident.

She was picking them because she thought this was what love was supposed to feel like. Like something she had to earn. Like something that was never really hers to keep.

And Sunghoon hated itl He hated that no matter how much time passed, no matter how much she grew, a part of her was still that little girl standing in the driveway, holding onto something that wasn’t hers.

Y/N felt the air shift.

She hated when he looked at her like that—like he saw through everything she tried to pretend wasn’t there. Like he could pull apart the walls she had spent years building.

So, she did what she always did when things got too real.

She changed the subject. “Anyway,” she said, stretching out on the couch like they hadn’t just been having a conversation about her terrible taste in men. “My dad’s company is hosting a gala this weekend.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Y/N gave him a look. “And I need a date.”

He let out a short laugh. “And you’re asking me?”

She shrugged, playing it cool. “You clean up okay.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “Wow. What a compliment.”

Y/N smirked. “I’m serious, though. You should come. You always used to come with me since we were six, and it’s been a hot minute since you’ve been to one.”

Sunghoon leaned his head back against the couch, exhaling. “That’s because I hate them.”

She nudged his leg with her foot. “Come on. Free food, expensive drinks, and you get to see me in a dress that costs more than your rent.”

He gave her a look. “You suck at convincing people.”

Y/N gasped dramatically. “Excuse me, I’m extremely persuasive.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, but she could see the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile. He didn’t answer right away, though.

Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Y/N. Work’s been kind of crazy lately.”

Y/N paused. Sunghoon had been busy. Busier than usual.

His job had been demanding more of his time, and even though he never complained, she could tell he was stretched thin.

Which meant, She shouldn’t push him and just let it go.

But instead, she nudged him again. “You don’t have to stay long. Just come for a bit. Keep me entertained. Prevent me from dying of boredom while old men talk about box office numbers.”

Sunghoon sighed, tilting his head to look at her. She knew she was winning. Finally, he exhaled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Y/N grinned. “That’s all I ask.”

Y/N had convinced herself he wasn’t coming.

She had checked her phone earlier in the night, almost instinctively, and there were only two more hours left of the gala, but there was nothing. No messages. No missed calls. No Sunghoon.

And maybe that was for the best. Y/N sighed leaning against the side of the balcony. The gala is still in full swing behind her—inside, the music is soft and elegant, the people even softer, pretending she don’t notice the flashing cameras catching her every move. But out here, on the rooftop balcony, the air is cold, and there are no cameras. No curated performances. No audience.

Sunghoon didn’t belong here. Not in a room full of people who only knew how to love things they could use. Not in a world where everything was polished on the surface but rotting underneath.

She had spent years pretending it didn’t bother her. That she didn’t care. That the weight of always being wanted—for her name, her beauty, her family—wasn’t suffocating her.

So when the producer’s hand slid onto her waist, she couldn’t move. When his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along her back, she didn’t flinch. And when he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered something she didn’t even process—the smile pressed on her face felt automated.

Because that’s what she was supposed to do.

She was supposed to smile. Supposed to let it happen. She was supposed to pretend like it didn’t make her stomach twist with something dangerously close to nausea.

And then—

A hand wrapped around her wrist. Firm. Steady. Familiar.

Her breath caught. Before she could react, before she could even see him, the warmth of Sunghoon’s grip pulled her back—out of reach, out of the producer’s hold, out of the moment where she had almost let herself disappear into nothing.

She turned sharply, and there he was. Sunghoon.

Standing between her and the man she had been too afraid to push away.

She couldn’t even process the look on his face. Not anger, not jealousy—just quiet, seething disbelief. Like he couldn’t believe her. Like he couldn’t believe she was letting this happen.

The producer’s hand fell away, a flash of irritation crossing his face as he looked Sunghoon up and down. Disinterested. Unimpressed.

“And you are?” the man asked, tilting his head unamused.

Sunghoon didn’t even blink.“Someone who knows she doesn’t want this,” he said, his voice calm, but sharp enough to cut.

She felt something in her chest tighten.

The producer scoffed, shaking his head as if Sunghoon were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “I don’t recall asking you.”

Sunghoon smiled then, but there was nothing friendly about it. “That’s because I don’t care.”

And just like that, the power in the room shifted. The producer let out an annoyed breath, muttering something under his breath before taking a step back. Not worth the trouble.

Not with Sunghoon’s gaze burning into him like a warning.

And then, they were alone.

Sunghoon was still holding her wrist. Not tightly, but firmly enough that she could still feel it.

For the first time that night, she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

But when she looked up at him, his expression was unreadable.

Not relief. Not comfort. Just disappointment. 

“You’re overreacting,” she blurted out before she could stop herself hugging herself, as if it put more space between the walls she placed between them

Sunghoon leans against the railing, watching her pace in front of him. She’s still in her expensive gown, still wearing diamonds in her ears, but her mask has finally slipped. Her arms are wrapped around herself, and her expression is sharp, defensive.

She’s ready to fight him, even though he’s not sure why.

“You’re overreacting,” she repeats, the words clipped. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Sunghoon exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You let that guy put his hands all over you,” he says. “And you laughed like it was nothing.”

She lets out a breathy laugh, not amused in the slightest. “Oh, please. That’s what you’re upset about? He’s a producer, Sunghoon. You can’t just—”

“I don’t care who he is,” Sunghoon cuts her off, jaw tight. “You looked uncomfortable, and you didn’t do anything about it.”

Y/N scoffs, turning away. “What did you want me to do? Make a scene? Give the tabloids something to talk about?”

“I wanted you to respect yourself,” he fires back, stepping closer, once she stepped away. “I wanted you to stop acting like you have to let people treat you like—”

“Like what, Sunghoon?” she snaps, spinning around to face him. Her eyes flash with something dangerous, something almost like betrayal. “Like I don’t belong to myself? Like I have to be something I’m not just so people will keep loving me?” She lets out a sharp breath. “Newsflash—that’s my whole life.”

Sunghoon stills.

She’s angry, but more than that, she looks like she’s about to break apart at the seams.

Her whole life has been about control, about perception, about playing the part that everyone expects of her. And Sunghoon? He’s the one person who’s never asked her to be anything other than herself.

And right now, that feels like a threat.

“You don’t get to be mad at me,” Y/N snapped, arms crossed, eyes flashing. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

Sunghoon exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I know that.”

“Then why do you care so much?” she presses. “Why do you always act like I owe you something?”

He’s silent for a long time. Too long. Long enough for the anger in her expression to shift into something closer to panic—like she knows she’s about to lose something she never really acknowledged was hers in the first place.

“I don’t act like you owe me something,” he finally says. His voice is softer now, but somehow that makes it worse. “I just… I’ve spent years watching you hurt yourself. And maybe that’s my fault for sticking around so long.”

Her breath catches. “Sunghoon—”

“I love you,” he says, and it’s not a confession, not really. It’s just the truth. A truth that’s been sitting between them for years, unspoken, unavoidable.

“But I can’t be the only one who wants this,” he continues, shaking his head. “I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me.”

She doesn’t know what to say. For the first time in her life, words fail her.

Sunghoon lets out a quiet, almost bitter laugh. “I’ll always be here,” he says, stepping back. “But I can’t keep waiting for you to be ready to love me back.”

Then, for the first time since they met as kids, he turns and walks away first.

Y/N doesn’t think.

Her body moves before her mind catches up, feet clicking against the polished floor as she lunges forward, fingers reaching as she grabs his wrist.

“Wait.”

Sunghoon stops. His shoulders tense under the dim rooftop lights, his breath slow and controlled, but she can tell by the way his fingers twitch at his sides—he wasn’t expecting this.

She wasn’t expecting it either, but suddenly, she’s terrified of letting him leave.

He turns slightly, just enough for her to see the side of his face. His expression is unreadable, but she knows him well enough to notice the cracks beneath the surface. The clenched jaw. The way his lips press together, like he’s bracing himself for impact.

She swallows, her grip tightening for half a second before she forces herself to let go.

“I’m sorry.”

The words are soft, barely audible over the muffled sound of the gala behind them. She sees the way his brows twitch, the subtle flash of something unreadable in his eyes.

But he doesn’t say anything.

So she keeps going.

“I don’t—” Her throat is tight. She exhales sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple as if that will stop the whirlwind of emotions threatening to tear through her. “I don’t know how to do this, Sunghoon.”

Silence.

She lets out a quiet, almost bitter laugh, hugging herself. “I don’t know how to be loved like this. I don’t know how to choose something when I’ve spent my whole life being told who to be. And I know that’s not an excuse, I know that’s not fair to you, but—”

Her voice wavers.

Sunghoon exhales through his nose, his fingers flexing slightly before he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“But what?” His voice is quiet now. Steady.

She lifts her gaze, eyes searching his like she’s hoping he’ll have the answer for her.

“But I don’t want to lose you.”

The confession leaves her lips before she can stop it.

Sunghoon inhales sharply, his gaze flickering with something she can’t place.

She looks away. “You’re right,” she says. “I let people treat me like I don’t belong to myself. I let them decide what I’m worth, what I should be, who I should love. But you’re the only person who ever made me feel like—” Her breath catches, fingers curling into the fabric of her dress.

“Like what?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Like I don’t have to pretend.”

The words feel raw, ripped straight from the part of her she keeps locked away. And for the first time in years, she’s not sure what he’s going to say next.

Because if he walks away now—if he lets her go—she knows she’ll never find the courage to say this again.

Sunghoon doesn’t move for a long time.

Then, slowly and carefully, he turns. His gaze finds hers, searching, cautious, as if he’s trying to figure out if she means it this time. And for once, she lets him see the truth. She’s scared. She’s messy. She’s figuring it out as she goes. 

After everything—after Sunghoon’s words, after her own confession, after the way his fingers tightened around hers—Y/N should have felt something shift.

But the city below was still loud, the gala behind them still glowed with artificial warmth, and the weight pressing against her ribs hadn’t disappeared.

She exhaled, slow and measured, her fingers still laced with his. It wasn’t tight. He wasn’t holding her there. She could let go if she wanted to.

She didn’t.

Sunghoon was watching her, his expression unreadable, but he hadn’t pulled away either. The silence stretched between them, and for once, she didn’t try to fill it with empty words.

She had already said too much.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

His voice was quiet, careful. He wasn’t asking as a demand, just… giving her an option.

For the first time in a long time, someone was giving her a choice.

She should have hesitated. She should have thought about what leaving meant, about the cameras, about what people would say, about the questions her father would have when this made headlines in the morning.

Instead, she nodded.

Sunghoon’s gaze lingered for a moment, like he was making sure, before he turned—hand still in hers—as he led her away from the balcony. They moved through the shadows, slipping past clusters of people too preoccupied to notice, and down the back staircase that led to the service entrance.

It was colder out here. No marble floors, no curated lighting—just the sharp scent of the city, the distant hum of traffic, and the occasional flicker of cigarette smoke from a waiter taking a break near the dumpsters.

It was the kind of place she wasn’t supposed to belong in.

But right now, it felt more real than anything inside that ballroom.

Sunghoon finally let go of her hand, just long enough to shrug off his jacket and drape it over her shoulders. She blinked at him, startled by the casual intimacy of it, but he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t even look at her.

He just stuffed his hands into his pockets and nodded toward the street. “Come on.”

Y/N followed.

They ended up at a small café a few blocks away—one of those twenty-four-hour places that smelled like burnt coffee and had chipped Formica tables. The kind of place Sunghoon used to take her to when they were kids, when she’d sneak out of her house just to feel like she had control over something.

Back then, he used to tease her for wrinkling her nose at the chipped mugs and sticky floors. But tonight, she didn’t say anything.

She just sat across from him in the worn-out booth, hands curled around the mug of tea he had ordered for her without asking.

The steam curled between them, and for a while, neither of them spoke.

Then, finally—

“Did you mean it?” Sunghoon’s voice was steady, but something in his expression was careful.

Y/N stiffened. “Mean what?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “That you don’t want to lose me.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Her fingers tightened around the mug.

She could lie.

She could say she didn’t know what she was talking about, that the moment had gotten to her, that none of it mattered.

But she had done that before.

And this time, when she looked at him—really looked at him—she could see it. The line between patience and letting go. The quiet resolve in his posture, in the way his jaw tightened, like he was bracing himself for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted.

She had spent her whole life playing roles for other people. But Sunghoon had never asked her to be anything except honest. So this time, she didn’t run. She didn’t pretend.

She just swallowed against the tightness in her throat, meeting his gaze as she whispered “Yes.”

Sunghoon exhaled, his eyes flickering with something she couldn’t quite place.

Three weeks of pretending nothing had changed. Three weeks of slowly pushing him away. Three weeks of answering Sunghoon’s texts like normal, of showing up when he called, of slipping into old rhythms because she didn’t know how to step into something new. 

But it wasn’t the same.

Because now—every time he looked at her, every time he spoke, every time his fingers brushed against hers like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch her anymore—she felt it.

The words she hadn’t said. The ones sitting at the back of her throat, burning like an open wound. She should have said it that night.

Should have said it when he looked at her in that awful little café, waiting for something—anything—that would make staying feel worth it.

But she hadn’t.

Because Y/N had spent her whole life being loved for all the wrong reasons. And the thought of being loved right—of being loved the way Sunghoon had always loved her—was terrifying.

Because it meant risking everything.

But now, as she stood outside his apartment, fingers curled into fists at her sides, she realized—

She was going to lose him anyway. If she kept waiting, if she kept hesitating, if she kept expecting him to read between the lines—He was going to leave for real this time.

And she couldn’t let that happen.

Before she even processed, her hand was curled and she was knocking on his apartment door. 

It was late, and for a second, she thought maybe he wouldn’t answer. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe he’d see her through the peephole and decide he didn’t care anymore.

The door opened.

Sunghoon stood there in a hoodie and sweats, his hair slightly damp like he had just showered, and for some reason, that made it worse.

Like this wasn’t some big dramatic moment for him. Like he had already decided to move on.

His brows furrowed. “Y/N?”

Her chest tightened. She swallowed, forcing herself to breathe.“Can I come in?”

A pause. Then, after a long moment—he stepped aside.

She walked in, arms crossed tight, shoulders curled inward like she was holding herself together with sheer force. She felt Sunghoon watching her, felt the weight of all the things left unsaid pressing down on the space between them.

She turned to face him. “I—” She stopped, exhaled sharply, then tried again. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Sunghoon blinked, clearly caught off guard. Confused. “…Do what?”

Y/N let out a small, humorless laugh. “This. Us.”

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. “There is no ‘us,’ Y/N.”

Her stomach twisted. “Sunghoon—”

“You made that pretty clear,” he continued, voice quiet but firm. “That night. And every day after.”

She clenched her jaw. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

Silence.

She hated this. Hated how distant he felt. How careful his words were now, like he was holding himself back. Like he was already halfway out the door.

She had never been afraid of losing anything before. But she was afraid of losing this.

Y/N took a breath. And then, before she could talk herself out of it—

“I love you.”

The words landed between them, soft but sharp, cutting through the space like a blade.

Sunghoon stilled.

For the first time since she walked in, really stilled—like he wasn’t sure if he had heard her right.

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling, curling them in and out, as she forced herself to keep going.

“I love you,” she repeated, quieter this time. “I— I don’t know what love is supposed to look like. I don’t know how to be good at it. But I know that I don’t want to spend another second pretending I don’t feel this way.”

His lips parted slightly, his expression unreadable. Y/N felt something crack inside her chest.

Because he wasn’t saying anything. And maybe she was too late. Her breath hitched, and suddenly she felt small, like the walls were closing in, like she had just ruined everything. She turned quickly, heading for the door.

But before she could reach it, a hand wrapped around her wrist.

Firm. Steady. Familiar.

Her breath caught.

“Say it again,” Sunghoon murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

She swallowed hard, eyes burning. “…What?”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Say it again.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Sunghoon, I—”

“Y/N.”

She inhaled sharply, turning back to face him. And then, with her heart pounding against her ribs—

“I love you.”

She felt the way his fingers twitched against her skin. The way his breath caught, just for a second.

Then, before she could second-guess it—Sunghoon pulled her in. Not gently. Not carefully. Like he had been waiting for this for years.

Her hands fisted in his hoodie as his lips crashed into hers, all warmth and desperation, like he was making up for lost time.

She let him. Because she had spent her whole life pretending. And for the first time, she didn’t have to.

NOTE: AHHHH it's been so long since I've posted any of my own writing, well to be exact this is my second time. I hope you guys enjoyed this little AU, because my first writing was a drabble and this one is a oneshot. I'm not too sure when I will be posting again, but this was fun lololll, but thank you for the read. I appreciate reblogs and reposts, and your feedback too! i hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!

© yjw1a1

[songmingisthighs]

Maudit

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xlvii - whoop my pinky

cursed!jongho × reader

genre : mythology!au, smau

rating : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

wc : 1.8 k

buy me coffee ?

so long i've been here, so long are the stories i've written. of what i gathered and lost, loneliness becomes me and pain refuse to depart from me. i've embraced that which ate me away so when you came along, i had no part of me left to give.

Fuming, you stormed into Mingi's apartment with heavy steps, ready to put him in his place.

"Hi Ms. (y/l/n)! How are-" you cut off the doorman's words, "I'm sorry Mr. Shin, I got some ass whooping to do," you stated. Seeing the look in your eyes (and the deep frown creases between your eyebrows), Mr. Shin simply pursed his lips, nodded and opened the door for you. "You're a real one for that Mr. Shin, I'll get you boba next time!" You yelled out, causing the aging man to duck his head in embarrassment with a tint of amusement.

As you waited for the elevator, you started thinking of all the things you wanted to say to and about Mingi, right to his stupid secretive face to get him to understand your point. You were so deep in your head that you almost missed a figure that came out from the other elevator, only realizing when the door of the elevator you took was about to close. "Is that..." You trailed off, thinking that you might have seen someone you know. But the thought was immediately buried with you opting to refocus on the more impending task.

Once you got off on Mingi's floor (which took too long because he was on the penthouse. Truly, the first time you complained about that ever), you kicked your shoes off and bounded over, trying to look for Mingi.

It was then that you see a familiar face.

"Mr. Song!" you called out, bounding over to him, who seemed startled and even petrified when he saw you. "I heard Mingi's back from the US, is he here now?"

It seemed like the surprise of seeing you rendered him speechless as he stood gaping like a fish out of water. In the years that you have known him, well, see him because you've never really spent time with him as he was always too busy and it wasn't like you were going to force the father of your best friend to spend time with you, you had never seen him so... flustered. You heard stories of his firm hand from Mingi and the man before you didn't seem like he was the man Mingi had talked to you about.

Peering down to his hands, you raised an eyebrow, "What do you have there?" It was only then did you realize that he was wearing an outfit that made him look like a butler of some sort and he was even wearing gloves and holding a tray with letters and tea, something straight out of a chaebol k-drama set up. "Are you wearing a costume?" you asked but the lack of amusement made your question seem heavier.

Finally looking at his guilty face, suspicion grew and you took a step back. "What's going on here?" you asked, "Where's Mingi?" The older man stuttered nervously, "I-I- Miss-" "Miss?" you gawked at the different tone he was using to address you. It dawned upon you that he had never really called you by your name, never really addressed you directly, and while you thought that it might have been his upperclass snootiness in action, the situation made you think otherwise.

Just as "Mr. Song" moved to put the tray on a table next to him, you moved first, heading for the staircase where the study was with "Mr. Song" calling after you to wait.

"-Hyung please, you don't get it!"

Mingi's voice made you stop in your tracks when you were a couple of feet away from the door. You could never imagine that Mingi's voice was capable of sending your heart lurching, but there you were, proving yourself wrong with yet another surprise about your supposed best friend.

"I-I need to tell her man, I can't keep this to myself anymore!"

What was Mingi talking about?

"I'm even avoiding her right now, do you even know how guilty I feel? I had YEARS of a streak with (y/n), a streak of always keeping contact with her no matter what, but now I'm hiding like a criminal!"

You, he was talking about you.

What was he guilty about? What was he keeping to himself? Who was he talking to?

"Are you seriously using your STREAK as an argumentative point here?" the other party answered. The voice was somehow familiar. The cadence, the depth of the voice, where did you hear it from?

"No! God, are you- No!" Mingi retaliated, huffing and shuffling around. You could imagine him frustratedly ruffling his hair, a habit he has that was the basis of your joke that he will go bald before he reaches his 40s. "My point was that this... What I'm doing right now, this, is also a betrayal to (y/n) and I can't just avoid her forever! My guilt is eating me alive and I'm not even living right now, I'm barely surviving with how much I'm hurting from seeing (y/n) hurting. You don't know how hard it is for me to see her that distraught!"

Your eyebrows furrowed at the revelation that Mingi had been keeping tabs on you, perhaps even following you around. Had it not been for your confusion, you would have been totally freaked out or even disgusted with the fact that Mingi had been stalking you all this time. This begs the question of why all of it was necessary in the first place. Why did he feel the need to avoid you to such lengths? Who is that person inside with him that seems to know as much as he does to the point of eating involved?

Curiosity got the better of you and you slowly took steps forward while the people inside maintained their silence. Though Mingi's gigantic build was covering it, you could see that the two men were staring at each other.

"Look," surprised at the sudden voice, you halted your steps, "I get it, okay? It was also hard for me to see her like that knowing what I know, but we can't just blab all we want because of our guilt, Mingi! There are rules in place, you know that!"

You felt as if you had just been punched in the gut. The other guy also knows you; the other guy has seen you before. "You don't get it, you don't get it the way I get it. We're different!" Mingi pointed out, finally stepping aside only to give you one of the biggest shocks of your life.

"Yes, we're different because you didn't have to face Jongho's passive-aggressiveness and for absolutely no reason having to defend yourself. That is ABSOLUTE madness I tell you."

The ground felt like it was shaking because never in a million years would you have guessed that Hongjoong was involved in this. You had to brace yourself by putting a hand on the wall to support your weight, the millions of thoughts rushing through your head as quick as the speed of light was causing your head to spin a little while your eyes stayed open, following the movement of the reaper that you had gotten to know quite well. You didn't know if you wished you would disappear or if Hongjoong would change, morph into an alien of some sort because you couldn't fathom how two people in your life, two people from backgrounds that you thought were completely different and even clashing, could be working together in favour of your pain like this.

Just as you thought that you had received the biggest shock of your life, Mingi scoffed and his next words almost stopped your world completely.

"Oh, boo hoo hyung, having to face some petty guy. Here I am living my life having to deal with the fact that I had gotten (y/n) killed a long time ago. I had to deal with the fact that I hurt not just her, but her family. I had to deal with the burden and the pain knowing that I caused a fatal accident and her mom had to beg me to save her. How's that hyung? Do you want to make comparisons again? Wanna make comparisons about how although we're both gods, you have more freedom as a reape? Because GOD FORBID the fucking tiger guardian god of the west want some fucking vacation after serving god knows how long I could go all day because you don't know how it feels to be living under such a cloud for DECADES."

Hongjoong was about to say something back to Mingi but the creak of the door cut him off, leaving him staring with mouth agape as he gasped.

"What the fuck did you just said?"

Mingi's body froze and he whipped around to see you standing there, staring at him with an unreadable expression but eyes so cold he could practically see the icicles forming.

"(y/n)..." Mingi called out, stepping back as you advanced slowly. "What... The fuck... Did you... Just said?" You repeated yourself, this time your bottom lip quivering.

Mingi stuttered violently, not knowing what to say first or how he was going to convey the truth to you. Hongjoong could only step aside, a sense of despair fell on him as he acknowledged the fact that y08 had heard what Mingi said, you were asking for an explanation, which means that the knowledge of what happened in the past, the knowledge that he and Mingi had tried so hard to keep a lid on had just been spilled all over the expensive rug of Mingi's study, and on top of that, he was going to have to let Seonghwa know that you had just been made aware.

"(y/n), c-can we talk about this, p-please? L-let's go out and-"

Mingi tried reaching out to you but you grabbed a vase that was on the table next to the door and proceeded to smash it into pieces in front of Mingi, showing him that you were creating a physical barrier between the two of you that he should not cross.

With wide, surprised eyes, Mingi stared at you with sorrow and guilt, but you could only return with a gaze that was angry and disappointed.

"I'm asking you once again, and you better tell me the whole fucking truth or else I'm going to fucking leave this place, leave you forever, find my way to the afterlife to go to Yeomra and ask him what the fuck is going on myself and I won't care whether or not I could come back." You were so dead serious and frightening that the two powerful beings were left terrified in their spots, both for your safety and sanity, but also their own survival after you unleashed your full wrath on them.

"What the fuck did you mean that you caused the accident that killed my parents and apparently me, have Hongjoong somehow involved and that you're the tiger god of the west?"

network :

@sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@dinossaurz @redzie02 @stayatinykatsy @tinyelfperson @allisonleannn @yukichan67 @phenomenalgirl9 @dawn-iscozy @aestheticsluut @krustycangrejo @teenyfinds @kirbrary @thedistractedwriter @gxlden-bxbyy @huachengsbestie01 @charreddonuts @that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict @velvetskize @do-you-remember-summer-127 @borahae-reads @domfikeluva @hwalighters @akunoeyebrows @ateezourstars

@roronoas-wife

[nerdybookworm25]

Even MORE Caitvi Headcannons

If you don’t ship Caitvi pls just scroll away 🩵

SFW:

- as soon as Cait was able, she was back at work. It was a lethal combination of her workaholic nature and her guilt over what she had done under Ambessa’s manipulation (this drove Vi nuts)

- Vi didn’t know what she wanted to do after the war and healing (physically) and it had her really down for a long time

- Eventually, Vi gets back into boxing (which helps improve her mental health) and much later on ends up opening a boxing studio where she teaches classes for all ages on the Zaun side of the bridge, but still in view of Piltover

- every class is entirely free Zaunites

- The studio ends up reconnecting her with Zaun, less people consider her a sell out/Piltover lapdog, etc, and she ends up regaining ownership of where the Last Drop was, rebuilds it, and reopens it

- You will see Vi there working pretty much any night that Cait is working overnight because she hates sitting alone in the Manor

- All of the money Vi makes from running the bar goes to the upkeep of the facilities, her employees, and the Firelights; she keeps none of it for herself AT ALL

- Cait doesn’t go into Zaun for YEARS after the war. She just staunchly refuses no matter how much Vi tries to convince her to visit her at either of her jobs

- PDA is something they both do a lot but only to an extent

- Like in public Cait and Vi are always holding hands/someone’s hand will be in someone else’s back pocket/an arm will be around a waist but they don’t really like kiss or hug in public

- you might catch a cheek kiss or a kiss to the back of a hand but it is always chaste on the rare occasion it does happen

- these girls LOVE a farmers’ market holy shit like they will walk around with Artemis and Apollo and kids’ll come up and pet the dogs and it’s just like a fun family thing they do together

- SPEAKING OF FAMILY, THE KIDS!!

- I think they have 2 girls and they’re named Cassandra Felicia Kiramman (Cassie/Cas) and Lavander Kona Kiramman (Lav/Vandie)

- I looked it up, and found that League (which I know nothing about tbh) bases Ionian language pretty heavily on Japanese, so “Kona” is the Japanese word for “Powder” or in this context, the Ionian word for it

- Cassie is older and looks like baby Cait but with more indigo/purple hair than Cait’s indigo/blue hair and has Vi’s eyes. She also has Cait’s build: Long legs and a short torso

- Vandie has hair that is a super pale purple — like it’s truly reflective of her name and Cait’s eyes, but holy fuck does she just have Vi’s face. She has a long torso and long legs (Vi’s torso with Cait’s legs if you wanna have it put that way) so she ends up being the tallest in the family by the time she stops growing

- When Cait sees Vi and Lav together, she calls them her flowers (Violet and Lavender — get it? Also fun fact these flowers both have been used historically as symbols of lesbianism so that’s fun too!!)

- Cas got nicknamed muffin as a kid and it has STUCK so when she and Cait are together, Vi ends up calling them baked goods or sweet treats and they both roll their eyes affectionately

- Cassandra and Lavander are five years apart and holy fuck they DID NOT get along until they were like 15 and 10 respectively and even then it could still be a little rocky, but it was usually a lot more playful from then on

- They really became best friends the year before Cassandra went on her first tour about Runeterra with Piltover’s professional shooting league

- UGH I HAVE SO MUCH I COULD WRITE ABOUT THESE GIRLS I SWEAR

NSFW:

- idk why im so fixated on Sub!Cait and Dom!Vi right now when I think they do the reverse slightly more often but oh well

- I’m just gonna get right into it I think they’re both into ass play/anal to an extent and no I cannot explain where that thought comes from

- For whatever reason, I think Cait is both the most into that between the two of them and the most embarrassed about it (Vi fucking LOVES to tease her about when she’s domming)

- While neither of them will be outright degrading to one another (both in and out of kink and ESPECIALLY when Cait is domming Vi) but Cait does like a mix of praise and degradation and tries to

- they both absolutely have collars

- Vi kisses it after eating it regardless of if she’s in charge or not

- These ladies LOVE a boiling hot bath together as part of aftercare

- QUICKIES ARE A STAPLE

- these two always have hickies all the fuck over

- Cait always tells Vi to not put them in visible spots because she doesn’t want ppl at work or around Piltover to see them (not because she is embarrassed of Vi at all, but rather because she thinks that it would be unprofessional of her…and admittedly very distracting to her when she’d catch herself in a reflective surface)

- in contrast, Vi doesn’t give a shit where Cait puts a hickey on her and she won’t cover up visible ones unless she and Cait have an official event to go to. It wouldn’t be unusual to see them walking around Piltover together on a weekend holding hands with Vi’s neck looking like it got mauled

- I KNOW I SAID NO IMPACT PLAY AND I STAND BY IT BUT I do think that if she’s in the mood for it…Vi doesn’t mind having her pussy slapped lightly; its never enough to hurt — frankly, it’s more of a tap than anything — but the moan she’ll let out when Cait does that…fuck

- they’ve had sex in some form in almost every single room of the manor (excluding the servants’ quarters and the rooms that Tobias moved to once Cait and Ci moved into the master bedroom)

- Grinding is huge for both of them, but on different parts of each other’s bodies

- I think I’ve mentioned this before (I could be wrong but whatever) but I think that Vi loves to grind on Cait’s thighs

- Cait, on the other hand, loves to grind on Vi’s abs

- Both of them are fucking freaks and will occasionally grind on whoever’s in charge’s boots

- Cait is ABSOLUTELY more of a brat than Vi. They’ll both brat sometimes, but if it’s a game of who’s most likely to, it’s going to be Cait

- I know I’ve talked about how Cait would punish Vi in a previous post, but I don’t think I talked about how Vi would punish Cait

- It is absolutely making Cait work herself up while she watches Vi work herself up OR Vi will make Cait work to “earn” her collar (this is where the boot grinding comes in — just read a FANTASTIC fic with this premise and holy fuck it was so so SO GOOD)

[holyblonded]

Three fics in a day. You are my favourite person right now. So grateful to you.

And you know what estrella and sonnett is our favourite chaos duo.

— the moment estrella joined the us team, sonnett immediately adopted her as her little chaos apprentice. “you have potential, kid. stick with me, and i’ll show you the ropes.” estrella, already being a menace, took zero convincing.

— training sessions are never peaceful when they’re paired up. they turn every drill into a competition, and if they’re on opposite teams, it’s just pure shithousery, trash talk, unnecessary stepovers, and dramatic goal celebrations even when they miss.

— on team buses, they absolutely cause problems. sonnett hypes up estrella to do the dumbest things, like sneaking onto the driver’s mic to give fake game analysis or convincing rookies that emma can sense weakness.

— they once got banned from sitting next to each other on flights because they would not shut up. laughing, making terrible tiktoks, and throwing paper at people in front of them. alex threatened to separate them like kids.

— estrella once got caught sneaking snacks into camp, and instead of helping, sonnett immediately snitched to pretend she wasn’t involved. “i had nothing to do with this, but if you’re looking for the supplier, check estrella’s bag.” estrella just stared at her in betrayal.

— in games, if one of them gets fouled, the other is on site immediately. no hesitation. they will get in the ref’s face, the opponent’s face, the lineswoman’s face— whoever needs to hear it.

— they have an ongoing bet to see who can make the other laugh first during the national anthem. they’ve both failed multiple times.

— estrella definitely stole one of sonnett’s shirts and refuses to give it back. “it looks better on me.”

— if estrella ever gets into an argument with an opponent, sonnett is right there like, “you need backup? we can take this outside.” estrella loves the energy.

— when estrella got her first yellow card for arguing with a ref, sonnett high-fived her as she walked away. “proud of you, kid.”

— sometimes, during warmups, they only communicate in inside jokes that make zero sense to anyone else.

— if they ever get mic’d up at the same time, pray for the editors. the chaos is unhinged.

— sonnett once tried to teach estrella how to wrestle. it ended badly when estrella almost flipped her over.

— when estrella finally scores her first us goal, sonnett tackles her in the celebration and yells, “she’s arrived, people!” estrella acts like she’s embarrassed, but she secretly loves it.

— basically, they’re a nightmare for their teammates but gold for the fans. the chaos is endless.

[trebuchet151]

I am so very late to the "Sidestep wearing their partner's merch/underwear" trend started by the lovely @kidhellion

Behold: some hypothetical domestic future where Corey can be soft and steal ALL their girlfriend's clothes

Individual frames without text under the cut

[jadewritesficshere]

Painting

Modern!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Contains: nudes, mutual masturbation, phone sex

18+ only

Eddie flopped face down onto his mattress with a sigh. After working all day, playing at the Hideout, and then hauling all of the bands' equipment, he was wiped. He wanted nothing more then to smoke and go to sleep. His phone pinged with a notification. A contact under the name "Loser" had messaged him, causing a split second of confusion before a lazy grin spread across his face when he realized it was you (he had forgotten he changed it when high). You had been unable to come see Corroded Coffin play tonight as you had made previous plans.

Loser: How did it go?? Good?? Bad??

Loser: Was that one chick who wants to be a groupie there??

Eddie: went ok. Y u jealous?

Loser: just curious lol

Eddie: sure. Wbu?

Loser: Good! Robin and Nancy came. We had a nice dinner. We did paintings! Robin's looks better then mine. Mine looks like shit 😔 now just taking a bath and relaxing.

Eddie: show me?

Loser: lol no???

Eddie: y not? I'm sure it good

Loser: you sure?

Eddie: yes

Loser: fine

Eddie doubted your painting looked bad. You always tore yourself down, even when you did amazing things. He always wanted to throttle you, but knew he would be a hypocrite if he did. Eddie rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. He would convince you one day that you were awesome, but until then he would just have to keep reminding you. His phone dinged with a new message from you. He opened it and saw a picture attached and-

Immediately dropped his phone. His heart picked up speed. His eyes widened and face flushed. Eddie dove for the phone as if it were a life preserver and he was drowning. He couldn't believe his eyes. He licked his lips and stared at his phone.

A picture from your neck down. Bubbles in the bath around you. Water was running down your collarbone towards your tits. Your nipples barely covered by the bubbles. One boob having no bubbles around it at all, but your hand flipping him off blocked him from seeing more. He was greedy. He wanted to see more, and had never imagined you would send him this to begin with. Eddie looked down at the tent that had formed in his boxers.

Loser: ask nicely next time 😤

Eddie groaned and his dick twitched. You had totally misunderstood him, he had wanted to see your painting- of course he was more then glad for this outcome. However, he couldn't quite unsee what you had sent, nor would he want to. Eddie reread your text. Next time means more than just this once. Means maybe he could see more. Means maybe he has a better shot with you then he thought. He already overthought things with you many times, and now his brain had just switched to overdrive.

A million thoughts ran through his head as his hand traveled south. He paused briefly," Oh fuck it." He grabbed his dick over his boxers, causing the outline to be very noticeable. He took a pic before sending it to you. He would have felt bad about not sending a message with it, but he would have sat there for ages trying to think of a response. And he couldn't find it in himself to care as he pressed lightly against his dick.

He dropped his phone on his stomach. All Eddie could think about was you as he pulled his dick out of his boxers. Your soap covered tits. How beautiful they looked.. He licked his hand before slowly grasping his dick and squeezing the base, causing the tip to flush more. The pressure causing him to moan. He slowly stroked up and down his length. He picked up the pace, canting his hips up to meet his hand. Part of him wanted to go slow, but the rest of him wanted to get this over with quick so he could do it again and again and again. His chest heaved and sweat started to form on his brow. A sigh fell from his lips that quickly turned to a moan at the thought of it being your hand wrapped around him. How small your hand would look on his dick. How-

His stomach tensed and he jolted as his phone started vibrating and your ringtone played. The vibrations on his lower stomach felt so good, he was tempted to let it keep playing, but the urge to hear your voice was stronger. With his free hand he grabbed the phone and answered. "H-hello?" Eddie asked, panting into the phone. "Oh fuck, Eddie," your voice higher than normal sounded like music to his ears. Eddie moaned and your response was a whimper. "Fuck babe, see what you do to me?" Eddie's voice felt like sandpaper, he was surprised he could even find words. "Uh-huh." The sound of water splashing caught Eddie's attention," holy shit. Are you touching yourself?" "Wish it were you."

Eddie's mind went fuzzy as he picked up speed. The schlick noise picking up, his mind filtering out everything except your moans. "Sound so good. Wish I was there." Eddie mumbled, feeling his tip leaking generously. He was so close. "Fuuuck Eddie I'm gonna-" your sentence was cut off with a moan and he lost it. His hips bucked without rhythm and cum spurted everywhere. He never understood the phrase of people seeing stars behind their eyes until now, but they were more like fireworks. He had never cum this much in his life, not even when he had first found porn.

He slowly came back down, a euphoric feeling enveloping him. A warmth spread in his chest as it heaved, trying to catch a breath. He looked down and saw his shirt covered with his release. Your chuckle pulled him back to earth. "Uh so that happened...so whatcha gonna do about it Munson?" He hummed," Think i should ask you for a date." "You should."

Eddie had the biggest grin when you finally got off the phone, date planned for Friday night. He looked down at your contact name before changing the s to a v. He was going to find that painting you did and make sure it hung over his bed, so he could remember this night forever.

[transdeanactivist]

it’s really funny looking back at when i was deep into supernatural cus i have a few hit tumblr posts that i still get notes on today And i just found out that a shitty wattpad fic i wrote when i was 13 is in the top 5 in #destiel ? like that’s crazy

[ratatatastic]

inter did the "can you sign this (old terribly cringe picture they pulled from the depths of hell i.e. facebook)" trend and this can only mean of course that the cats will be forced to do this next

[chiistarri]

this is horrible my heart is beating just thinking about him