#like ‘I may not like him but I’m glad he made it’

[esote-rika]

Could I request Spencer with a really socially awkward reader(gn) who has to meet the team for the first time and just sort ends up hiding behind Spencer?

Feel free to ignore this if you're not up for it :)

Anon, thank you so much for this! I’m sorry it took a little long, but I hope you still enjoy it <3 Cute little drabble of Spencer being the best bf ever.

Contents: Mentions of alcohol, but otherwise, it’s just fluff!!! gn!reader.

Your hands are clammy when he takes them, a clear sign of your discomfort. Immediately, Spencer’s face softens, his features dappled pink and blue from the colorful lights of the bar. Neither of you drink, but his team is celebrating a case they successfully closed, and he’d mentioned it would be a good time to introduce you. The atmosphere is relaxed, after all, inhibitions dulled by alcohol and the knowledge of a job well done. 

For them, at least. You are operating under something entirely different. Nerves. Lots of it.

“You made it.” Spencer says brightly, before he wraps an arm around you and ushers you to their table. His team is all bright, welcoming smiles, and teasing remarks when they see you. You recognize them from the pictures, this group of people he’s come to know as his family. The cheeriest woman, Penelope Garcia walks up and gives you a big hug. Not expecting it, you stand there awkwardly, too busy wondering if you should return the gesture, but by the time you make up your mind, she’s already pulling away. 

Oops. You bite back a wince at your social blunder and manage a smile. 

“Spencer has told me all about you.” You say over the loud, thumping music. 

A chorus of replies. He spends all his time talking about you too, and You two are so cute, and I can’t believe Spence didn’t introduce you to us sooner! Lovely platitudes that you nod at. What exactly do you say to them beyond a thank you? Desperately, you wrack your brain for responses. Be witty, you chide yourself, charming. Make them like you.

But your words fail you in this moment, as they so often do. Small talk seems hollow, perfunctory instead of sincere, so you smile and nod politely as the comments continue around you. The more they go on about how it is to meet you, the more you seem to shrink into Spencer, smiling politely in response. You hope, desperately, that it's enough.

Once the initial round of introductions dies down, Spencer pulls you to a quieter table. The back of your neck is warm from all the attention, and you're worried his team may think you're being too clingy or antisocial. Surprisingly, his team doesn’t comment on it, moving on to get drinks and join the dance floor. Other people may have found it rude to retreat like this, but truthfully, you’re glad for the reprieve. 

Spencer’s hand is warm and heavy on your hip, pulling you tightly to his side. “Are you okay?”

You hum, nodding against his shoulder. “Your team’s nice.” 

“They are,” you feel his lips on your forehead, “But they can be a lot.”

You peak over his shoulder to look at the dance floor. Derek is in the middle of it with a few ladies, while JJ, Emily, and Penelope have their own little dance cluster. “They’re nice.” you repeat, “They just seemed excited.”

He chuckles, “Mhm, that’s because they’ve been wanting to meet you for weeks now.” 

You feel him pull back, and you have to fight back the urge to cling to him. He meets your gaze, brown eyes warm and glittering in the dim light. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too overwhelmed?”

“I’m fine. I’m glad to have met them.”

He smiles, pleased that his reminders for his team had worked. He’d told them of your tendency to be awkward around new people and had asked them to accommodate it when they meet you. He’s just as nervous and eager for your introduction to be nice, but your comfort is of utmost importance to him. 

For a brief moment, he worried it wouldn’t work, but his team is gracious enough (and so excited over the fact that he has a relationship) that they’ve put on their best behavior and backed off immediately once they caught signs of your discomfort. You’re easy enough to read, and they’re highly trained profilers. 

“They already adore you.” he says, nose buried in your hair. 

You laugh, “You sure? I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression.”

“I’m sure.” his lips ghost across your hairline, “You weren’t even that bad. They’re used to so much worse.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, ducking down to press his lips to yours. “Need I remind you that they have to deal with me?”

Even more laughter escapes you, and you’re immediately put at ease, even more so than before. How could you not, when your boyfriend knows exactly what to say? Perhaps not to other people, but he’s so attuned to you and your needs that you just kiss him back in thanks.

[himbo-kuto]

the tv was playing in the background as you were mindlessly scrolling on your phone. it was a lazy sunday afternoon in skyhaven and you and caleb decided to spend the day doing nothing. he had been twirling the ends of your hair around his finger for who knows how long at this point, half listening to what you had put on earlier. he was just happy to be in your presence. 

you left out a huff as you locked your phone and looked up at him from his lap. 

“done scrolling?” you were silent as you turned toward him, crossing your arms soon after. your eyes scanned his face, down his neck, shoulders, chest and finally your gaze settled on his arms. he was wearing one of those muscle tees with the sleeves cut off and as much as you tried to help yourself, you always caught yourself looking. caleb may be a fool for you, but he was no fool when it came to you. he bought a bunch of shirts just to rip the sleeves off of them in hopes he would catch you looking at his arms again.

“like what you see?” he leaned in closer to you, a shit eating grin dancing on his lips for catching you in the act. you immediately averted your eyes, but your reddened cheeks were a dead give away. 

“shut up..” he took your chin between your fingers, tilting upwards to catch your lips in a chaste kiss. 

“you can look all you want, honey. they’re all yours” you stuck your tongue out at him, glancing over to his arms once again and before you could even think, you leaned over and gave his bicep a big old bite. he yelped in surprise, but laughed as he looked down at you. 

“what are you doing! get off of me!” you quickly sat up and straddled his lap as you began to give his arms little love bites. his arms were soft, squishy and some might describe as… beefy. 

“they’re just so yummy looking, I have to give them a little nibble!” you continued your antics, laughing out loud as you moved up to his neck and shoulders. caleb was over the moon as he laughed along with you. he missed these moments with you– just being stupid with your laughter filling up the room.

he managed to grab your hips, pushing them back so you were sitting on his lap. you took it as your sign to stop. you wiped the stray tears from your eyes from laughing too hard before your vision cleared and when your gaze met his, you swear you felt your heart skip a beat. his cheeks were slightly flushed, hair disheveled, the quickened rise and fall of his chest– when you two were teens and he had the same look whenever you decided to mess with him. 

you took his cheeks within the palms of your hands and shifted his gaze onto yours. moments like these came and went when you were with him. moments when you would think about how you spent those grueling months after his alleged death, how you never thought you were going to see him again, but here he was, in the flesh. your thumbs stroked his cheeks gently, feeling the texture of his skin from the explosion. he was insecure about it, but it was one of things that reminded you that he was real and you loved him even more for it. there was a shift in his expression, one of innocent curiosity. 

“what is it?” you didn’t speak, you just continued to gaze on to his features.  it was only after you scanned his whole face that you gazed into his eyes, running your fingers through his hair to fix the mess you had made of it. his eyes closed instinctively, relishing in your touch. 

“nothing. i’m just really glad that you’re here is all.” you placed a small kiss onto his forehead before leaning your forehead against his. it was your turn to close your eyes. you could feel how his arms held you safely within his embrace and how his hands were steady on your hips. he prided himself on keeping you safe, and you knew it too.

god, how could he have been away from you for so long? he gave your hips a gentle squeeze as his eyes partially opened to see your face. your expression was calm and vulnerable, almost how you looked like when you sleep.. his arms reached up to your back, pulling you in for a longing embrace. 

if caleb could absorb you he would, wanting to absolve any distance between the two of you. he breathed in the scent of your shampoo that smelled faintly of apples he buried his face into your neck. a shudder went down your spine, reciprocating the same amount of intensity. you tried pulling him as close as humanly possible to your chest, you could feel the heat that was radiating off his body. you cradled his head against your cheek, carding your fingers through his dark locks once again before placing a kiss onto his temple.

you finally felt him relax into your embrace, his breathing slowed. it took a lot for caleb to fully relax, especially when he was so used to being on high alert. you’re sure what he has been through in the past couple of months couldn’t have made that easy for him. so you were just going to hold him until he tells you to let go. he listened to the faint sound of your heart beat; you were here and you were real. almost like you were reading his mind, you smile softly as you look down at his calm figure.

“you don’t have to worry anymore caleb, im here and i’m not going anywhere.” 

🎤 hello is this thing on? crazy how it's been 3 years since i've last posted, but IM BACK KINDA? i really want to get into writing again this year and sO this is my introduction back into that!! i hope y'all enjoy this caleb fluff and here's to more!!!

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Why Orion doesn't babysit...(

Regulus Black AU

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: There are reasons Orion doesn't babysit.

Rating :T

______

“That was a nice dinner, Reg. I’m glad that you agreed to speak to me again.”

Sirius said with a grin as he closed the door behind him. After not speaking to each other in years, Regulus had finally approached Sirius about making up. Sirius knew that it was no easy feat for Regulus either. For Regulus Black to apologize about anything was about as rare as seeing a unicorn.

Something told Sirius that you were partially behind the apology too. After you gave birth to Regulus’ son, you had been trying to gently nudge Regulus in the direction of speaking to his brother again. You had been the one to approach Siruis after Walburga died. Apparently both Regulus and Orion were debating on if they should have went along with Walburga or not. It took maybe two months and Regulus turned up at Sirius’ door.

“You’re welcome. Please don’t push your luck.”

Regulus commented as Orion got up from the couch. He was happy to be talking to Sirius again too (even if he wouldn’t say it). There were still somethings that Regulus wasn’t totally comfortable with. You sat down next to Remus on the couch.

“You lot are back earlier than I thought.”

Regulus nodded, glancing around for Oliver. It wasn’t often that Regulus asked Orion to watch his grandson and he was about to remember why.

“Yes, our reservation was moved up. Where is Oliver?”

Orion glanced over his shoulder. Oliver had been one good little boy. He reminded Orion so much of Regulus as a child. It was like seeing the little star of the family all over again.

“I think he went to the lavatory. He’s a good kid. I only had to spank him the one time.”

A dead silence quickly overtook the room. Both Regulus and yourself turned to Orion with a frown while Sirius muttered “oh fuck” under his breath. You turned to your father-in-law speaking before Regulus lost his shit.

“Orion, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Orion shrugged.

“My shoulder is fine.”

Regulus rubbed a hand over his face before counting to ten.

“Father, we never spank Oliver! What were you thinking.”

Orion sat back down.

“No wonder he looked so surprised.”

Regulus started to get loud right away. You gently put a hand on his chest hoping to calm him down.

“Orion, what happened?”

“I told him to clean his toys up. He said make me so I did.”

Regulus growled. This was the last thing that he wanted to deal with. After growing up in a house where he was hit on the regular basis the last thing that he wanted was for Oliver to grow up that way. Normally all it took was for Regulus to give Oliver a glare and the little boy was doing exactly what was asked of him.

“Father, again we do not spank our son. Haven’t you learned from the way that Sirius and I were raised that spanking a kid doesn’t do any good? We don’t want Oliver to be afraid of us.”

““Alright, Regulus you made your point.”

Orion rolled his eyes and moved to take a sip of his tea. He got up and walked over to the coat closet. Halfway through putting on his coat, Orion turned to look at you. You hadn’t said much since a few moments before. Orion wasn’t a fool either. He knew that you were not about to push Regulus when he was angry. No one wanted to deal with that.

“Y/n, dear, may I ask you a question?”

You nodded as Regulus walked over to Sirius muttering something in French. Sirius elbowed his brother to pay attention to what their father was saying. While things with Orion had gotten better, Sirius still didn’t exactly trust his father 100%.

“Does Regulus pick up his socks?”

“Yes.”

You replied. Orion held his hand up before opening the door.

“You’re welcome.”

When Orion was gone, Regulus turnede to look at you before shaking hs hand. Running a hand through his hair, Regulus went off in search of something stronger to drink.

“Never again! That crazy old man is not watching our son again! I am about to put dad in a home.”

Sirius and Remus were looking at each other with wide eyes. Chuckling, Sirius turned to look at you.

“Regulus used to hate picking up his socks. Dad let it go for a little bit. When Mum finally bitched about it enough, Dad unfortunalty let Regulus have it.”

Regulus came back into the room with Oliver behin him.

“Sit down.”

Regulus said calmly. Oliver sat down on the couch looking up with Regulus with a smile.

“What did I do?”

Regulus knelt down in front of his son with a sigh.

“Why did you say make me to grandpa when he told you to clean up your toys?”

Oliver shrugged.

“I thought it would make him laugh and he didn’t.”

Regulus nodded as you moved to sit on your son’s other side. You gently stroked Oliver’s hair out of his eyes.

“Oliver, I believe you know that when you are told to do something, you are supposed to do it.”

Regulus nodded in agreement.

“Sorry, son, but grandpa doesn’t find anything funny. Your mum is right, though. When you are told to do something, you need to do it. Now go upstairs and get ready for bed.”

Oliver nodded, sticking his bottom lip out before going upstairs. You gave Regulus a look that said, “do not be a pushover.”

Regulus shook his head before standing up and going back to his drink. Sirius elbowed Remus in the side before turning back to his brother.

“Hey, Regulus. Pick up your socks.”

____

@millies0bsimp @geeksareunique @jessyballet @knreidy1 @fific7 @teletubiswszpilkach @spideyxalmighty @dumbbunnys-safes @dumybitch @readtomeregulus @lucasfilms77 @rogue-nyx88 @marichromatic @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @iluvthe-marauders @woohoney @saramaple @missgorldafirst @stelleduarte @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @bennyberry @f4iryluvy @panpride @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @ravenhood2792 @playmore-zeppelin @authoressskr @knight-of-gleefulness @ell0ra-br3kk3r @livshifts @ad-astra-again @regulusblackswhorecrux @kindestofkings @criminalyetminimal @rubes-xoxo @padf00ts-l0ver @regulus-black-223048

[f0point5]

Say what you want but I think the Baguettes were the real Brocedes all along. They cannot escape each other - same home, same karting track, same team, even pretty much the same results in that team. And yeah they’re not friends but they’re the only two on the grid who I can imagine sending each other’s kids gifts after they retire even if they don’t hang out.

[akkivee]

this is going to be my hypmic self insert profile LMAO

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

.

[k9wa]

𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?” 

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…” 

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 

his own dream, now his downfall. 

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[maiseui]

BITE BY BITE . . . (— chapter one ; )

in which you’re a vampire, and heeseung teaches you how he likes to be bitten.

SYNOPSIS. lee heeseung has one reputation, and it’s that he’s not afraid of anything: of rules, of authority, and especially not of vampires. he’s obviously bad news, and for such reasons, you’ve always made sure to never cross his path. it isn’t until one fateful night that you find yourselves face to face and what he tells you makes your entire world flip on its axis.

“bite me, fangs. just like last time.”

PAIRING. college playboy!heeseung x vampire fem!reader

GENRES. romance, fantasy, slight thriller

WARNINGS. swearing; blood and violence; mentions of death; descriptive & suggestive (makeout) scenes (no smut); some angst; heeseung is kind of a dick / overly flirtatious at times / slightly toxic (sorry I'm kinda into that)

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST!

CHAPTER ONE. ╰ 7.0K ✩ ┈ masterlist // next chapter . ╰ warnings : swearing, mentions of death / poison, SUGGESTIVE scenes ** note : this chap will flit back & forth between heeseung & yn's povs

CHAPTER ONE.

“your son will die early.”

they say the scariest type of people are the ones who have nothing to lose.

“he will die before his twenty-fifth birthday.”

heeseung disagrees. 

he thinks those who have everything to lose are far more terrifying.

this was a lesson he learned when he was just twelve years old. 

he’s never really believed in fortune tellers, but that hadn’t stopped his parents from impelling him to visit one on his twelfth birthday. that fateful day was the first spark of what would soon become a raging inferno, because it was then and there that a morbid foretelling had been carved into his fate. 

“lee heeseung will die from two bites on his neck.”

there are two types of responses to a death curse.

one, wait for your death — wither away with each second that passes, like you’re a candle slowly melting until the flame is swallowed by a pool of liquid wax.

or two, be a fire — be a raging, catastrophic wildfire; one that scorches everything within its proximity and doesn’t wait to be extinguished, but has to be extinguished.

you can wait for death or play it like a game. 

heeseung chose the latter. 

he constantly plays dice for death.

“are you scared, heeseung?”

heeseung exhaled, his head thrown back as the girl straddled him. his back was pressed into the couch in the living room of his upscale penthouse, a body flushed against his while the two remained engulfed by midnight darkness — precisely how he liked it. in the dark, every sense felt heightened, like how her delicate fingers spread themselves over his neck, and how her mouth was so close to him that her hot breath tickled the sensitive skin below his jaw. 

“scared?” heeseung echoed with a twinge of amusement, his tongue coating his lips. he held her waist while she leaned forward and peppered kisses all over his neck. “that’s cute.”

“ah, so it’s not your first time being bitten,” the girl purred. she then glazed her tongue across his neck, indulging in a preliminary taste, like an irresistible appetiser before a full-course meal. “i bet you love it then. being bitten, i mean.”

“i guess i do,” he whispered, feeling slightly impatient as he angled his head closer and allowed the sensation of his breath over her ear to make her shiver — “but i love it especially when they stop wasting my time and get to the point.” 

his blunt words sliced through the atmosphere so abruptly that the girl seemed to halt in surprise. heeseung thinks it’s amusing that she reacts like this, because he knows he has a callous reputation that precedes him. is she surprised that what most people say about him is right?

he’s never been the type to dance around his words. he’s honest and forthright and as a result, doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he wants just one thing from this girl — nothing more. 

“o-okay, sorry,”  the girl cleared her throat and licked her lips. she inhaled deeply before opening her mouth wide enough that her fangs began to extend outward. heeseung could feel their sharp tips lightly graze his skin, which roused a flame of exhilaration within him. 

he felt his heart begin to pick up and he shifts in his seat, eyes fluttering shut with furrowed brows. 

a slow exhale escaped his nose.

two sharp pricks.

one.

two.

three.

crunch.

the instant he feels his blood surge up through his veins and out his neck, he waits for that surge of euphoria he had experienced a long time ago.

he waits and waits and waits — but nothing happens.

everything within him falls flat and all his anticipation dissipates like smoke in air.

again.

yet again, he’s disappointed.

they say the first bite for a vampire is a slippery slope, because once you have a taste for blood, the hunger becomes insatiable. ravenous. like there’s an unquenchable thirst to devour, and devour, and devour. 

heeseung wonders if the same could apply to him.

is it possible for humans to become insatiable?

is it normal that every time he finds himself here, his mind always floats back to that one girl?

he hasn’t been able to rest ever since that very first bite. 

in fact, he’s been relentlessly chasing that thrill — chasing her — for years. 

it comes with a sigh and a sharp decline of the exhilaration in his veins that heeseung realises tonight is no exception. 

tonight is just another unsatisfying bite. 

even after four years, he’s still not able to replicate the sensation he had his first time. 

while he knows that bite by bite he inches closer to death, he also knows that there’s only one thing that has ever truly made him feel alive — you, the girl of his first bite. 

tonight is the last confirmation he needs before he has to face the truth.

nobody’s bite has ever felt quite as gratifying as yours.

.

.

.

your dad always instilled one lesson in you: be relentless.

“hi!” you stepped forward to a fellow college student, your hand outstretched with a flyer. “would you like the chance to win a gift card valued at twenty dollars? i’m looking for study partici—”

the student scowls instantly, openly glaring at you. “get out of the fucking way, leech.”  

he shoves past your shoulder, bumping you hard enough that all the flyers in your hands fall and scatter everywhere along the concrete walkway. you stagger back, stunned by the sight of the disarrayed paper sheets on the ground.

second. that was the second time today that had happened. all your life, you’ve tried to come to terms with the fact that humans and vampires might never get along, but being treated this way certainly stung.

being relentless, as it seems, came at the cost of your dignity.

it’s been roughly two hours since you had arrived at your university’s front courtyard, sweltering under the sun in desperation of finding study participants for your course assignment. 

so far — nobody. 

literally not a single soul. 

your genius idea was that you’d be able to take advantage of the booming foot traffic at this time in the afternoon. after all, the courtyard has always been known to be the place students pass in between classes, especially since it’s lavishly embellished with open, wide cement walkways; gorgeous topiaries and flowers; and a stunning view of the main building out front. 

it’s your second year as a nursing student and, in a twist of sickening irony, this semester is all about haematology. blood. the lab project you’ve been assigned is simple: you need to gather some study participants, practise your phlebotomy skills, test their blood, and consult them for any blood-borne viruses. the only problem? it’s been about a month since you were assigned this project and you’ve been wildly unsuccessful in recruiting participants.

the reason why is so obvious that it hurts.

nobody in their right mind wants to trust a vampire with their blood.

be relentless, you echoed to yourself with another sigh, collecting the flyers off the ground.

with what little morsels of resilience you could muster, you stood back up and plastered a polite smile on your face, making quick strides to a pair of girls who were chatting under a large tree. they looked friendly, so you felt a hopeful shine to your lips as the edges tugged upwards.

“hi!” you beamed with a sunny grin, “my name is—”

“go gargle some garlic, fuck-face.” they sneered at you, slamming the flyers out of your hands. 

the flyers once again spatter everywhere on the grass, on which the girls are sure to trample over as they storm off. 

great.

you’re fucked.

there’s no way you’re going to be able to start this project, let alone finish it with a passing grade.

you know the optics of your situation are a little strange, but you really do care about nursing. yes, it’s ironic and ridiculous for a vampire to have anything to do with healthcare, but most things about you were a little ironic anyway. 

you’re the daughter of an eminent vampire and a blood descendant of hundreds of generations — with your inauguration coming up in two months, you were going to be formally recognised as the inheritor of your father’s legacy and fortune. this was supposed to be a prerogative of being the great park kangho’s daughter, but it felt more like a ball and chain to a predetermined future you wanted no part of.

it was all sunghoon’s fault — had your estranged brother not run away from the family like a coward, you wouldn’t be in this situation. it would have been his inauguration.

you know it’s weird that you don’t want anything to do with this, but heck — you barely understood how to be a vampire in the first place. you haven’t even had your first bite yet. it’s strange and a little embarrassing that you’re the first vampire of your family lineage to be scared of biting into a human, but you couldn’t help it — the thought was terrifying and has always been ever since you were a child.

this fear dates back to when you were twelve and a rumor had lingered around your classmates before it finally reached you. apparently, there was once a vampire who bit into the wrong human and died. 

it was unprecedented: vampires were always the predator and humans the prey, which explained your utter horror when the rumor turned out to be true. 

and it turned out to be about your mother. 

since then, you’ve lived your life scared in the shadows, puppeteered by trepidation and the looming fear that you might meet the same fate one day. as you’ve learned, being the one who bites doesn’t necessarily mean you’re the one who doesn’t get hurt. 

in this world, there are fish and there are snakes — people who bite bait and find themselves reeled in, and people who bite with the intention of injecting their venom. 

they both bite, but just one survives. 

frankly, you didn’t want to be either. and perhaps it was these things — a college degree and your new part-time job — that would save you from having to follow your father’s footsteps.

was it so bad to want to pass this semester? 

was it so bad to dream beyond the future set out for you?

you sigh with dejection, unable to withstand the way your shoulders slump. 

you run your fingers through your hair, freezing when your eyes flit into the distance and something catches your eye. 

lee heeseung is seated at one of the bench tables. there’s a crowd of people swarming around him — there almost always is — and he has one elbow propped up on the table, palm up with his chin rested on it. his gaze is initially trained ahead of him while he engages in a conversation with one of his friends, until suddenly — his eyes flick upward and you both lock gazes from across the courtyard.

your heart slows into a halt at the sight of his penetrating gaze, a complete coldness sweeping over your body to keep you frozen.

shit.

you quickly tear your eyes away from him, feeling your heart begin to pick up.

shit. 

shit.

shit.

if there’s one person in the world your father has always warned you about, it’s lee heeseung.

campus heartthrob, lee heeseung.

son of your dad’s most loathed enemy, lee heeseung.

chaos and fire in one pretty package, lee heeseung.

undeniably, devilishly handsome lee heeseung with silver, almost lavender locks and big, brown bambi-like eyes that looked far more innocent than they actually were.

your accidental eye contact was a cruel mistake, because it has now become the catalyst that prompted him to stand and slowly make his way over to you. you felt goosebumps across your skin as you hurriedly tried to gather the flyers in your arms, hoping to make your escape before he reaches you.

after all, heeseung is, for lack of better words — a snake. 

granted, you’ve only spoken to him once in your life, but the whispers of everybody around you seemed to suggest you were lucky. 

as the youngest son of his already notorious family, lee heeseung has the most infamous name in your college, one which induces a mix of both intimidation and intrigue. he has one reputation, and it’s that he’s not afraid of anything: of rules, of authority, and especially not of vampires. his repertoire consists of constant partying, illicit affairs, and a penchant for breaking girls’ hearts and collecting vampires’ bites.

he turned heads in every room he walked and based on the fleeting moments you’d seen him in the flesh, had an aura that was inexplicably captivating. there was a reason why he never struggled in finding company wherever he went — most people found his confidence extremely attractive. 

the worst rumor you’d heard was that he had some sort of obsession with being bitten. and that he’d dismiss people at the drop of a hat once he got what he wanted. you couldn’t think of anything worse than being involved with a callous guy like that, which would explain the utter dread you felt when you saw his shadow hovering over your crouched body.

shit.

you gulp, feeling like cornered prey.

most people agree that he’s all types of bad news — that he’s a fire who easily burns anyone dumb enough to get close — yet he attracts people like moths to a flame. 

a flame.

you were going to make sure you did whatever it took to not get burned.

.

.

.

it’s obvious you don’t remember him.

heeseung thinks it’s kind of funny, actually — because most people are so well-acquainted with his name that when they meet him for the first time, they act as though they’ve known him for years.

but you don’t seem to remember him at all. 

nothing about you seems to indicate that you recall that night you two had first met, about four years ago under a willow tree on a cliff that overlooked the city.

you bit him that day.

while this is a memory vividly engraved in his mind, he thinks the fact you had fainted afterwards must be a contributing factor to your amnesia. 

“a twenty-dollar gift card?” he chuckles, eyes raking over one of the flyers from the pile he helps you pick up off the ground. “sounds fun.”

when he looks up and the two of you stand facing each other properly, heeseung gets the first glimpse of the subtle scarlet glow in your eyes for the first time in years. at once, everything within him ignites like fireworks — he feels excitement expand the walls of his veins while his heart drums with an echo, especially when you stare back at him and your proximity allows your familiar scent to flood his senses. 

he can’t help but lick his lips as his mind flits back to that night and the ecstasy you gave him with just one bite. 

the willow tree. your hair. your hands. your fangs. 

shit. you’re even cuter than you were back then.

heeseung has always had a habit of chasing pleasure.

it’s safe to say he’s decided that you’ll be his next chase.

“uh, thanks,” you whisper, watching him pick up the last of your flyers. he also notices the empty sign up sheet on the ground, so he adds that to the top of the pile before holding it out for you to take.

when you take the flyers from him, he senses your hesitation, which makes it obvious that you probably don’t have the best impression of him. he’s ready to change that. “your study sounds interesting,” heeseung smiles, his eyes following suit in an attempt at assuaging the slight uneasiness in your gaze. 

unfortunately, it has the opposite effect. you don’t do a great job at hiding your grimace, because it’s there in your eyes and in the way your lips slightly dip. you’re suspicious of him. he can’t blame you — after all, he just watched you get shut down and sneered at by several people for half an hour. 

that, and the fact that unflattering rumors seem to follow him wherever he goes.

“not many people seem to think so,” you clear your throat, gnawing on your lips. his eyes trickle down the length of your hair as he notes all the different ways you’ve changed since you last came face to face. “but anyway, thanks again for picking up my flyers.”

“no worries,” heeseung tilts his head with a calm expression, though his lips twitch upward when he sees you tuck your lip between your teeth. 

noted. once is an action and twice is a habit. 

“so where can i sign up?”

“oh, uh — i-i don’t think it’s really your thing,” you let out a breathy chuckle, diverting your eyes. 

“how would you know what is and isn’t my thing?” he steps forward, lowering his head slightly so that you meet his gaze. he has to say that he loves the way you stare back at him — eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and wariness, and even the way you shuffle back in an attempt at creating distance. 

“just an educated guess,” you gulp, hugging your flyers closer to your chest. “you don’t really seem like the type and i wouldn’t want to bore you,” your eyes narrow at him.

“you could never bore me,” heeseung counters, the edges of his lips curling into a small grin. “besides, i’m super interested in haematology.”

haematology… getting bitten by pretty girls… same thing.

he watches your brows slowly furrow. you shuffle back again and he stifles a laugh. frankly, the way you keep drawing the line between the two of you makes this interaction all the more entertaining. 

you appear to contemplate your next words before staring right back up at him with a certain ferocity that makes his heart squeeze with excitement. “actually, i have enough participants already. the study’s full,” you forced a tight smile, “sorry.”

ha. 

what a lie.

you act as though heeseung didn’t just watch you get rejected by half the campus. 

“wow, what a shame,” he shakes his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “i really wanted that gift card.”

“i know, right… so disappointing, huh?” you feign regret, solemnly shaking your head with him. “i guess you’re just going to have to pay like a normal person.”

“i guess so,” he chuckled, “but wait — whose empty sign up sheet is this?” he leans forward and swipes the topmost piece of paper from the pile in your arms, holding it up for you to see.

your smile instantly drops. you stare at him in horror as you snatch the paper from him, scrunching it up into a ball. “th-this was a second sheet!” 

heeseung can’t help that a smirk slithers to his lips because he finds this irony amusing — you seem slightly disgusted by him, but his mind runs with relentless thoughts of you like he’s a hamster on a wheel.

you don’t remember him.

perhaps he has to make you remember him. 

“it’s okay,” he exhales with his nose, grinning while he looks you up and down, “it was just an excuse to talk to you anyway,” he leaned in with a playfully raised brow, “maybe even take you out on a date.” 

he wants to laugh out loud when your face drops into a disgusted expression. you’re almost sneering at him with the way your lips contort into a scowl. he wasn’t serious, but he loves to watch the animation in all your reactions. 

it’s entertaining.

it’s cute. 

“um, no thanks,” you scoff, backing away with a few slow steps. heeseung straightens his back, watching you hold your hands up as the distance between the two of you widens within seconds.

“oh, wow, um look at the time!” you quickly check your watch and nervously chuckle. “sorry i-i gotta go! my — uh, dog just died so yeah, bye!”

heeseung attempts to withstand the smile on his face as you twist on your heels and bolt, running as though your life depends on it. you cast just one cursory glance over your shoulder before you disappear from his sight completely, leaving behind a flyer on the ground. 

it should hurt his pride that you’re the first girl to turn him down in such an abrupt manner, but he knows time is on his side. 

after all, things have a way of working out for him.

he has the cheese.

he has the trap.

he just needs to wait for you to bite. 

.

.

.

“do you want to work overtime?”

your honest answer is no. 

your even more honest answer is absolutely the fuck no.

however, your lips are suddenly bobbing up and down like a marionette and you find yourself agreeing to another two hours of what you consider hell on earth. 

as it appears, applying for a new job as a bartender in one of the city’s most bustling nightclubs is the latest addition to your library of horrible mistakes.

decelis is supposedly the best nightclub in the city.

objectively, you can see why it’s so popular among college students. the establishment itself boasted of three storeys plus a rooftop, with an exquisite bar on each level. the atmosphere here is undeniably electrifying, and if you weren’t so painfully sober, perhaps you’d be able to appreciate that.

ironically, clubbing has never really been your thing. 

how could it, when party music is currently resounding in your ears; flashing neon lights are searing your eyes; and sweaty, gross bodies are screaming at you various drink orders from every direction imaginable?

you wouldn’t normally be caught dead in a place like this, but you were desperate for a job. it was just last week that you had waltzed into the club and slipped them your résumé. you honestly weren’t expecting to get the job, but it was an offer you couldn’t refuse when they handed it to you. 

because if you wanted any chance of escaping the web in which you were entrapped, you needed to know you’d be able to fend for yourself.

but as one can imagine, bartending is fast-paced and demanding.

you thought it would be exciting to work with a backdrop of party music and led lights, but your first two shifts were dreadful. you learned over a hundred different recipes, cleaned up vomit five times, skipped your lunch break both days, and found your brain rattling in your skull to the beat of jay park’s music when you stumbled home at five am.

while your coworkers are utterly lovely and you had unbridled access to free alcohol, such things weren’t enough to offset possibly the worst part of the job — the drunk customers. 

“fuck, you’re cute as hell,” the boy drunkenly exclaimed from across the bar benchtop, while you watched him struggle to keep himself erect on his feet. 

“thanks. so is that cash or card?” you stared, a hand hovering over the cash register and the other cradling the eftpos machine. 

“are you a vampy?” he ignored your question, his chortle punctured by a few hiccups. 

you slammed your eyes shut in irritation, regretting the overtime already. the penalty rate wasn’t worth it, because if there’s one thing you detest the most, it’s being called vampy.

nevertheless, you force your lips to curl into a courteous smile, though your stare hollowed like pitless voids. “if you’re asking if i’m a vampire, then yes.” 

“that’s hot,” he chuckles, slipping on his feet but managing to use the bench to catch his fall. “i mean, hella scary — but still really hot.” 

“sir, for the love of god, please tell me if you’d prefer to pay with cash or card,” you sighed while your resolve began to chip away. 

“sir?” the boy gasped incredulously, offended by your implication. “what am i? a fifty-year-old man?”

you sure as fuck act like one. you exhaled, containing yourself. “okay, my apologies. so is it cash or card?” you grit your teeth, fantasising about climbing over the bar and beating the living shit out of the guy.

“oh, just put it on the tab,” he dismisses you with a lazy wave of his hand, then snatches the glass from the bench before sculling its contents in a swift movement. “lee heeseung’s tab.”

of course.

why did you even bother to ask? more than half of the people you’ve served tonight have been stacking their orders on that guy’s tab. perhaps this is why you’ve been having such a shit shift — every second order you take is a horrible reminder of your interaction with the boy from earlier today — which, for the record — is something you desperately wish to forget.

‘maybe even take you out on a date.’

that crazy bastard.

was that supposed to be a stupid joke?

the animosity between your two families has always been obvious — and barring earlier today, he’s never approached you and vice versa. you thought it was an unspoken mutual agreement. 

sure, there have been times you’ve caught his gaze on campus or at mutual events, but that was it — today was the only time he’d gone out of his way to speak to you. this is the reason why you found it so fishy — there has to be something he wants from you, though you can’t quite put your finger on what that might be.

the only time you’d ever interacted with lee heeseung before today was a strange occurrence you recall back in high school, when you had woken in the nursing infirmary and he was sitting beside you with his head resting on your bed. 

these two experiences make you feel the exact same way: like his gaze has a tendency to shoot right through you as if he could read you like an open book. you hate that. you hate his penetrating gaze and his boundless arsenal of smirks and smiles and the way he carried himself like he always had the upper hand.

whatever. 

hoping to rid yourself of these thoughts, you quickly shake your head and divert your attention back to your job.

half an hour passes as you continually hustle behind the bar, attending as many orders as you can. you work as though you have four hands — sprinting around along the circular bar while people shout their orders at you.

eight tequila shots.

three vodka raspberries.

two cosmopolitans.

five apple ciders.

it isn’t too long before your coworker, yunjin, taps you on the shoulder and offers to replace you while you run off for your shift break. 

you quickly thank her and rush to the other, quieter side of the bar, but in the midst of removing the apron from your uniform, you hear a voice suddenly ring.

“is the sign up sheet for a drink also full, too?”

you instantly yelp, jumping in fright from the sudden voice. you snap your head toward its direction, where heeseung is leaning over the counter, smirking at you.

what the actual hell?

you almost feel a little winded at the sight of him. frankly, it’s only been a few hours since you’d last seen him, but he looks like a completely different person when he’s all dressed up for the club.

what replaces his usually clean and casual style is something that exudes confidence and suave charisma. even you find it difficult to deny that he looks as alluring as most people claim. tonight, he’s wearing a black button up top that accentuates his wild shoulders. you notice the first few buttons are unfastened and left open to showcase his pretty neckline and the silver chain around his neck, which glints in the dim lighting. he has half of his silver hair slicked back, the other half swept forward and hanging over his forehead. 

he’s gorgeous, you think, and it almost makes your blood boil.

“i only ask because the sign up sheet to stare is full,” he cracks open a smirk at your deadpanned expression. “but i guess i could make an exception for you.” 

“you’re following me.” 

“actually, i’m a regular here,” he smiles, nudging his chin behind you. your gaze follows his direction and you see a picture of him and his friends hanging from the wall. not exactly a flex that he’s a frequent clubgoer, but he certainly proved his point.

“fine,” you huff in concession. “good for you,” you say sarcastically, reaching down to scoop your bag up in your hands from the lower shelves just behind the counter. 

“before you leave, my go-to is whiskey on the rocks,” he smiles, propping his elbow up so that his cheek can rest on his palm. “i don’t think the owners would be very happy to see a regular leave… unsatisfied.” 

you pressed your lips together, turning your head over your shoulder to see poor yunjin struggling to keep herself afloat, inundated with orders. you sigh, begrudgingly placing your bag back down so that you could pour him a glass.

“look,” you yank the most expensive whiskey bottle from the shelf and pour it into a glass, hoping the end-result of his tab knocks his ego down a peg or two. as you place a few ice cubes in it and slide it over to him, you pin him down with a dark glare and an ugly frown. “i don’t know what the hell it is you want from me, but i’m not buying your act.”

“what act?” he smirked in amusement, taking a sip of the drink you handed him.

“the whole i’m interested in haematology act,” you scoff, too exhausted from your shift to tip-toe around the topic. “look, i’m not interested, okay?” you run your hand through your hair and sigh loudly. “i’m sure you’re a nice guy,” you almost gag on air when you say this, “but you’re just not my type.”

“then what’s your type?”

“i don’t know; guys that don’t creep me out?” you hiss, frankly surprised by your own hostility. you hadn’t planned to be so forthright with your words, but frankly, you were too exhausted to care. heeseung doesn’t creep you out per se — but you knew guys like him only have selfish intentions. they needed to fought with fire. 

you like to think it’s fear that they feed off.

heeseung doesn’t say anything when you throw your bag over your shoulder and stamp away from the bar, and you don’t even bother to cast him a final glance.

however, you’re only able to make it halfway to the exit before you realise you had left your phone behind.

crap.

there’s a moment of hesitation before you decide to go back, because there’s nothing more embarrassing than having to backtrack a dramatic exit.

nevertheless, you begrudgingly twist on your heels and make the shameful journey back, noticing as you near the bar that heeseung is no longer where he had been sitting earlier. the glass you’d poured for him still remains on the counter, but in a matter of seconds, you suddenly see a girl slide into his old seat.

huh.

circumventing the crowd in the middle, you find your way back to the bar and retrieve your phone. as the design of the circular bar allows you to conceal yourself behind the middle pillar, she doesn’t seem to notice you as you watch her through a blind spot mirror on the roof.

you don’t understand the compulsion within yourself, but you allow yourself a minute or two to watch her.

you stare at her big eyes, her medium cut layered hair and the blunt bangs across her face. she looks familiar, you think to yourself, halting once you see her glance over her own shoulders suspiciously.

you watch carefully as she does one last eye sweep of her surroundings before retrieving a small paper packet from her handbag.

what the heck is she doing? 

you stare with a confused frown, eyes slowly widening as you watch her rip the packet open and pour its contents into heeseung’s drink.

she then dips her finger into the glass and swirls it around.

and just like that, the powder dissolves colourlessly and it almost appears as though heeseung’s drink has been untouched.

your heart shoots down your feet when you realise what she’s done.

she’s spiked his drink.

.

.

.

the adrenaline allows you to cast everything aside — your long-awaited break, your animosity with heeseung, and even your bag.

because within milliseconds, the girl springs to her feet and re-enters the dancing floor while you struggle to tail her, losing her amidst the sea of bodies. 

fuck!

fuck. fuck. fuck.

you quickly exit the bar and follow her steps the best you can, though it’s difficult when the lights are low enough that everybody blends into a vague swarm of heads and bodies. she has dark hair, but so do half the people here. her frame and height are small, which makes it all the more difficult to locate her. every time you think you recognise her, you realise you’d been pursuing the wrong culprit. 

everybody in the crowd is shoving you in all different directions.

she’s nowhere to be found.

and you can’t seem to find heeseung, either.

shit.

shit.

shit.

when you feel yourself enter a swivet of panic, you tell yourself to do the most rational thing — grab your phone and call for help. unfortunately, the sheer volume of club music resounding around you makes it difficult for yunjin to hear you on the other side of the call.

thus, you force your way to the outskirts of the club where your voice is more audible, but it’s only here that you finally look up and spot heeseung climbing the stairs to the second storey. 

there he is!

you immediately hang up on the call and thrust your way through people in the direction of the stairs, eyes widening with alarm when you see the girl trail behind heeseung, the drink in her hand. the pair eventually reach the height of the stairs and the second storey, prompting you to yell out his name as loud as you can.

“lee heeseung!” you call, but in a similar fashion to your phone call — the music drowns out your voice. you scramble now, sprinting your way up the stairs while screaming his name loud enough that he finally stops in his tracks.

“heeseung!” you pant for a breath, settling your feet on the second level while you leaned forward over your knees. “w-wait—”

“who are you?” the girl asks, so you snap your head up and sneer at her. 

you stomp over toward her and attempt to grab the glass from her, but unfortunately her grip is equally as strong.

for a few seconds, the two of you engage in a tug of war. 

“wh-what the heck?” the girl shrieks loudly, “what the fuck are you—”

you’re both struggling for the glass, pulling it in your own directions. 

it isn’t until you tug a little too hard that her grip suddenly loosens. 

the cup flies in your direction and tilts toward you and—

splash!

you freeze, gasping at the sensation of cold liquid running down your chest. 

no no no no no no no no—

you look down at your uniform and wince at the sight. 

fuck.

liquid is trickling down your chest and legs and pooling at the bottom of your shoes.

fucking fantastic.

you throw your head back and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes in frustration before slamming them back open. 

“i quit. i think i officially quit,” you mutter aloud, scoffing in disbelief to yourself. with the glass in one hand, you use your free hand to fruitlessly swipe at your uniform in order to flick off whatever remnants you can, though unfortunately the liquid has already saturated your clothes.

passerbys murmur and gawk at the sight of you, causing immense heat to flood your face and ears while you lower your head in humiliation. this is so embarrassing, you think to yourself, desperately wishing to remove yourself from the scene.

while you turn around to leave, you suddenly halt in your tracks and find yourself committing to one more stupid idea.

you storm over toward the pair and grab heeseung’s wrist, yanking him with you as you stomp your way to the backrooms.

.

.

.

“i saw her spike your drink,” is the first thing you say when you shut the door behind yourself, and the two of you find yourselves inside one of the empty vip rooms. 

you’re encased by four padded walls in a dimly lit room, on which colourful flashes of light dance and flicker all thanks to the led projector on the ceiling. 

there’s an entertainment centre and a tv screen on one end of the spacious room, while a circular table and a couch that perfectly circles around its perimeter is on the other side. you storm over and slam the glass down on the table, harshly throwing your bottom onto the couch while you knot your arms across your chest.

“she poured something in that,” you point to the remaining drink in the glass, glaring up at him, “i saw her.” 

heeseung is silent for a moment while he watches you. he briefly tears his gaze from yours to observe his surroundings before facing you again, both brows raised slightly. “wow, you smell great.” 

“you—” you scoff, slamming your hand down on the table in frustration. “you ungrateful piece of shit!”

he immediately stifles a laugh, biting his bottom lip to refrain his grin from growing any wider. “i-i’m sorry?”

“i-i was trying to help you!” you exclaim incredulously, springing to your feet as you furiously storm over to him. “did you not hear what i just said? i said she spiked your drink! do you not understand what that means? for all you know, you could have been poisoned! i was trying to save you!”

momentary silence engulfs the two of you after your outburst. the silence is sobering, if you’re going to be honest. after all, you feel immediate regret trickle in, but before you can backtrack, heeseung tilts his head and watches you with a calm gaze. 

“save?” he echoed while a smirk slithered to his lips, and another important realisation strikes you like a rock to the head.

perhaps you should have just let him die. 

“now look at me,” you throw your hands in the air, scoffing again in disbelief. “i’m drenched in whiskey, god—” you openly gag, “this is disgusting! the least you can say is thank you.” 

“you want me to thank you?” he raised a brow.

“well, you could have died; i practically saved your life,” perhaps this was a hyperbole, but you were feeling petty — he didn’t look as shaken up as you did. frankly, you were beginning to think you cared more about his safety than he did. 

“see, you’re mistaken,” heeseung took a step toward you, causing you to step back. he kept advancing toward you, closing the distance, until you felt your back softly hit one of the walls. 

shit.

having heeseung in such an uncomfortable proximity made you want to shrink into a ball.

“wh-what?”

“i said, you’re mistaken,” you saw his eyes glint with amusement as he placed an arm against the wall beside your head, using it as an anchor while he leaned in closer, your faces now inches apart. you gulp, warmth crawling up your neck and into your cheeks from the sheer proximity and sensation of his hot breath grazing your face. 

“i think it’s cute that you’re worried about me,” you watched as the edges of his lips curled before his eyes landed below your nose. you froze when his fingers were on your chin, lightly gripping it so that he could get a better view of your lips. “but like i said, i don’t need saving.”

“you’re right,” you smiled sarcastically, slapping his fingers away from your chin, “maybe i should have just let her poison you. or sedate you and sell your organs to the black market. do you have a preference for how you’d like to die?” 

“don’t worry,” he whispered to you, voice so low and ghostly quiet you thought you could feel it sweep right through you. “i already know how and when i’m going to die, so don’t bother trying to save me.”

his words struck you.

you frowned in confusion, unable to decipher the cryptic meaning behind them.

heeseung smiled at your reaction, leaning into your ear so that his warm voice sunk into your ears like honey. “in fact, if you’re going to ‘save’ me, then do something else for me instead.” 

you froze, eyes flickering to the bare skin of his neck, on which you see old scar marks that appear like vampire bites.

you quickly place a hand on his chest to push him away, but this contact only seemed to encourage him — instead, he gently grabbed your hand and wrapped it around your waist.

“bite me,” he whispers alluringly, “i bet you want blood more than anyone else.”

your face dropped as his scent flooded your senses.

something musky. woody. a hint of floral.

and a hint of blood.

you felt your eyes drop and your stomach churn, because for the first time, you feel something within you — an itch. an ache. an urge.

a hunger.

“w-wait…” you blurted, feeling a little light-headed while your heart left a hammering echo inside your chest. you swallowed and swallowed but your mouth felt drier than ever. 

“if you’re going to save me,” he exhaled. “then just bite me, fangs,” heeseung lured you in with a soft voice. 

he then leaned in close enough that his breath tickled the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“just like last time.”

A/N. well that escalated quickly 🤠 n e ways I literally had so much fun writing this chapter (sorry i cbfd proof reading lel) bc this is my first vampire au. also my first playboy au so BE NICE PLS DONT TEAR ME TO SHREDS LMFAOOO 😭 anyway words cannot even describe how excited I am for this fic - I've been craving the thought of writing smh a lil more actiony/thrilling than my usual romcom repertoire SO. I hope u r strapping urself in for a riiiiiiide >:) anyways aaaa tysm for reading && I hope u guys enjoyed the first chap!! sorry for all the long text but i promise the groundwork is necessary for the future shitshow in upcoming chapters SO. 🫡

likes, rbs & feedback are always appreciated! :) ╰ ✩ ┈ masterlist // next chapter .

[xhyjin]

thinking about nanami kento! (when am i not) with a s/o that is socially awkward/shy

he knew from the start that you were distant. during work parties, you never showed up, only clocking in to work and leaving once your duties were done, never lingering to chat or mingle. the rare times you did attend, you stayed in the corners, quietly observing with wide, nervous eyes and a faint blush coloring your cheeks. he couldn’t help but be intrigued, and one day, curiosity got the better of him. he approached you. your words stuttered, your face burned red, but there was something about the way you responded that made him instantly drawn to you. from that moment, you became his reason to look forward to work every day.

he began to notice the little things about you. how you stayed tucked away in your cubicle, only speaking to coworkers when necessary. how you spent your lunch breaks alone, either watching a show on your phone or quietly eating, lost in your own thoughts. and how, at the end of the day, he’d sometimes catch you smiling to yourself in the elevator, as though you’d found happiness in the smallest of things. it fascinated him how content you seemed in your own world, and after weeks of silently admiring you, he finally decided to approach you properly.

but he was careful—patient. he knew you were shy and reserved, so he didn’t want to overwhelm you. he started small, spending lunch breaks with you. at first, the silence between you both was awkward, though not unwelcome. you blushed furiously at the attention but didn’t push him away. instead, you quietly shared bits of your lunch with him, a subtle gesture that said, i’m glad you’re here. he knew you struggled with words, so he didn’t press. instead, he let his presence speak for itself, slowly building a bridge of comfort between the two of you.

when kento finally worked up the courage to ask you out, making it clear that this wasn’t just work-related but a date; you could hardly believe it. your eyes widened, and then you nodded eagerly, your happiness shining through. his heart swelled at your reaction. he had planned a simple outing, maybe a cafe, but seeing your excitement, he wanted to make it special. he made reservations at a nice restaurant, ensuring you’d have a secluded spot to enjoy your time without pressure.

the date started just as he expected. you were quiet, your voice barely above a whisper when you responded to him, sticking mostly to “yes” or “no” answers. but kento was nothing if not patient. he asked small, simple questions, easing you into a conversation, and when he mentioned something you loved, your entire demeanor changed. your eyes lit up, your voice grew stronger, and you started talking more, rambling on about your interests. you didn’t even realize how much you’d been speaking until the waitress interrupted to take your order. your face turned crimson as you sulked in embarrassment, worried you’d talked too much. but when you glanced at kento, his gaze was soft, a gentle smile on his lips, he looked utterly captivated.

ordering was its own challenge. you felt embarrassed, too shy to tell the waitress what you wanted. kento noticed your hesitation and, with a subtle nudge of his foot under the table, gave you something to focus on. you nudged him back, and it was enough to calm your nerves, allowing you to place your order. he was thoughtful like that, always finding quiet ways to make you feel at ease.

by the end of the date, you’d grown comfortable enough to start asking him questions. the two of you talked for so long that you didn’t notice the restaurant had emptied. when you finally left, the night felt far from over. kento drove you to the beach, where the two of you walked hand in hand along the shore. the sound of the waves filled the comfortable silence between you, and when you stopped to look at the moonlight reflecting on the water, he turned to you and asked, “may i kiss you?”

your heart raced, but you nodded, and when he kissed you, it was as if you were something fragile, precious. he didn’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable, but under the glow of the moon, he couldn’t resist the beauty of the moment—or of you.

after that, the two of you continued to grow closer, going on more dates and eventually making it official. over time, you began to come out of your shell, though you still retained your social awkwardness. kento loved every part of you, from the way you stumbled over your words to the way you blushed under his gaze. to him, you were perfect exactly as you were, and he made sure you always knew it.

[confused-wanderer]

The villains are utterly confused.

They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.

The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.

But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:

The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.

SCENE 1

Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.

Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..

Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?

Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*

Red Hood:

Two-Face:

Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?

Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!

Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?

Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?

Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?

Two-Face:

Goon 1: I mean.. yeah

Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!

Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??

Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.

Red Hood:

Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones

Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-

SCENE 2

Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!

Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!

Nightwing: .. robin?

Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?

Nightwing:

Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after

Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.

Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.

Nightwing:

Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)

[no-144444]

nothing bad!- o.piastri

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summary: the sprint pisses you off, ted's notebook catches you at a bad time, you say some things, oscar posts some things, and it ends up being one of the most popular ad campaigns in history. oops.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You rolled your eyes as you watched the sprint end. Bullshit. Team orders had always left a bad taste in your mouth, but this was just bullshit. You sighed, looking at Mark, and he just rolled his eyes. Oscar was on par with Lando in his second season. Yes, there were some small mistakes or issues, but he was a fucking jet engine, and he deserved a team that treated him like one. He was going to be World Champion next year, you knew it, Mark knew it, everyone knew it. 

“Fucking arseholes,” Mark cursed. “What time is your quali at?” 

“12,” you answered. “I’m going to just go talk to him, see you in a bit.” 

You stood in Parc Fermé and he came up, pressing a kiss to your lips and sighing as his team congratulated him. 

“That was such bullshit,” you sighed, following him to his driver’s room after the media duties. “Wanna fuck to get all that frustration out?” 

He nodded, not even looking at the question like it was a joke. You both knew it wasn’t. “How long until your quali?” 

“An hour,” you shrugged, pulling him into his room with a smirk. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

When you two finally resurfaced, you made your way over to your car, ready to slot it onto the grid, as you did, you were stopped by Ted Kravitz, the man, the myth, the legend himself. 

“Y/n! How are you feeling about today’s quali and sprint race?” he asked. 

“Good, yeah. Just need to get out and up there,” you nodded. You were the number one driver in F1 Academy, and F2. This weekend was an F1 Academy weekend. You’d won every race since you’d joined the series, a sweep of total domination for 2 years. 13 wins under your belt in F1 Academy, 12 feature race wins in F2, and 12 Sprint wins in F2. And you were only 22. 

“And how did you feel about Oscar’s Sprint race? You didn’t look so happy in Parc Fermé.”

You rolled your eyes. “If Lando really needs Oscar to take a side step like that over one point, maybe he’s not ready to be champion,” you shrugged. “And that’s coming from a friend.” 

You could feel the air shift as Ted smirked, knowing what a headline that would be. 

“Thanks for your time Y/n, we’ll see you on the other side of Quali,” he smiled, allowing you to walk on. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Pole position, again. 

It was almost funny how easy it was. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You made your way back into your garage and found Oscar looking proud, but slightly guilty…

“What did you do?” you asked, putting your helmet and gloves down. 

“Nothing bad,” he prefaced. “But I may or may not have posted something.”

You looked at him quizzically. “Show me.” 

He turned his phone around and you laughed. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

oscarpiastri

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, y/nracing, and 839,231 others

oscarpiastri: get yourself a girlfriend who a) is intelligent, gorgeous, and awesome. and b) publicly humiliates your teammate over one point :)

comments

landonorris: low blow... i thanked you -> y/nracing: u forgot to thank beyonce.

user82: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS

mclaren: please take this down xxx -> y/nracing: if he takes this down i'll bomb mtc. -> mclaren: OH GREAT HEAVENS.

zbrownceo: we know this diva 💜

lilymhe: hold up im trying to spell gorjus -> y/nracing: OMG I FUCKING LOVE YOU DITCH ALEX FOR ME PLZ

carlossainz: at least you've got a leg up on lando... -> user22: ??? -> carlossainz: he hjas a girlfriend that loves him, lando's dumps him every four days -> landonorris: WHY AM I CATCHING STRAYS RN????

oscarpiastri: who is this gorgeous lady? -> y/nracing: she's taken bucko -> oscarpiastri: not by lando norris 😹😹😹 (even though he asked you out first...) -> y/nracing: who the fuck would pick lando over oscar?

pierregasly: WHO IS THIS DIVA 💜

charlesleclerc: glad to see my daughter in law is still insane

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“Well, I’d better post something myself, shouldn't I?” you smirked. He nodded, a bright blush on his cheeks, knowing exactly what you were going to post. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

y/nracing

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 12,293,942 others

y/nracing: booo ln4. i'm into op81. oh yeah, also our skims collection is out on the 24th xxx

comments

user82: OH MY FUCKING GOD

user29: i have no one to talk to about this.

oscarpiastri: pretty girl -> y/nracing: pretty boy

landonorris: ??? ->oscarpiastri: I will actually gouge your eyes out, unlike this post right now. -> user92: WHAT HAPPENED TO POLITE CAT? -> oscarpiastri: his teammate became a bitch

user92: HOLY SHIT Y/N IS LOOKING GORG

lilymhe: my girl is beautiful

alexandrastmleux: my girl xxx

charlesleclerc: supporting! (with my eyes closed)

pierregasly: 👀 ->oscarpiastri: close them.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[sweeterlovers]

HIS LOSS / LANDO NORRIS + JACOB ELORDI

lando norris x piastri reader + reader x jacob elordi / SMAU

SUMMARY / lando cheating on oscar’s younger sister? who better to heal your heart than the australian heartthrob

FACE CLAIM / hadar lavy

WARNINGS / cheating!

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by gossipf1, f1lover, and 36,751 others

f1gossip F1 GOSSIP: Lando Norris caught cheating on Y/N Piastri??? Lando Norris has been spotted with a mysterious blonde woman!

view all comments

user6 WHAT WHAT

user78 holy shit bro

user0 no more papaya rules….

user2 LMFAOOOO

user613 mclaren garage bout to be real awkward

user8 the DRAMAAA

user03 SINCE WHEN WAS LANDO DATING SOMEONE???

user836 where have u been????????

user5 bro i don’t know.. i didn’t even know oscar had a sister 😭😭

user6782 you’ve been living under a rock

user111 what the actual hell

user3 his loss i guess

user521 i don’t even know anymore

user778 landoscar 😭💔

user89 well that’s over with

user2000 anyways Y/N deserves better

user58 welp!

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 135,726 others

y/n.piastri well it’s just me and my stuffed animals against the world 🙂

view all comments

user2 girl you deserve better

user57 wait the stuffed animals are so cute

user05 i know 🥹 what are their names???

y/n.piastri well the octopus is named mimi and the kitty is named princess mellow!

user267 awww

yourbsf anyways your so hot wtf

y/n.piastri 😘😘😘😘 ilyyyyyyyyy

user9 stop she looks so sad :(((

user2 i wonder why….

user88 i wish i looked that good after getting cheated on

user892 the fact that he’s still liking her posts….

user0 ugh he’s so icky

user83 i hope she can still come to the paddock and support oscar!!!

user543 me too!!! we may have to wait a bit for that tho

user452 🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁

user362 your so pretty!!!

oscarpiastri why are mimi and princess mellow so far apart?

y/n.piastri idk they need space

-

MESSAGES

yourbsf

ok y/n you’ve been sitting in your room for the past week, you need to get out and go party!!!

y/n

i’m not in the mood

yourbsf

ok well i don’t really care!

y/n

?????

yourbsf

go get ready! i’m picking you up and we are going to the club!!!!!!!

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by oscarpiastri and 265,727 others

y/n.piastri 🍾🪩⚡️

view all comments

yourbsf HOTTIE

y/n.piastri LOVE U CUTIE

user3 okkkk i see youu

user0 you look soooo good

user67 revenge outfit 🔥🔥🔥

user1 party girl era?????

user56 imagine she goes to a party and sees lando as the dj

user9 i would die

user267 this post is chaotic and put together at the same time

user78 you look amazing!!!!!!

user566 😻😻😻😻😻😻😻

user6 i want to party with y/n piastri

-

MESSAGES

my dear brother 🤧🤧

how was the club?

y/n

it was alright

my dear brother 🤧🤧

did you meet anyone?

y/n

nope!

my dear brother 🤧🤧

i’m sorry, if it makes you feel better i can run him over!

y/n

it’s whatever, but i wouldn’t be made if you “accidentally” crashed into him

my dear brother 🤧🤧

noted

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by oscarpiastri, jacobelordi, and 73,624 others

y/n.piastri i was going to wear this to the club but i changed 👍

comments on this post have been limited!

user9 jacob elordi in the likes????

user0 oooooo!!!!

oscarpiastri 👌👌👌

yourbsf you look good either way!!!!!

-

INSTAGRAM

jacobelordi

hey! i know this might seem weird but i’m in australia visiting my family and i’m free and i was wondering if i could take you out on a date?

y/n.piastri

are you being for real?

jacobelordi

yes?

y/n.piastri

sorry this was just unexpected! but i would love to go out with you!

jacobelordi

great! i’ll dm you the details

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by jacobelordi, oscarpiastri, and 164,263 others

y/n.piastri date night 🤍

view all comments

user6 WHAT

user78 ok girl!!!!

user10 looking gorgeous!

user2 i’m glad your moving on from lando <33

user9 yeah he’s a 🚩🚩🚩

user34 most of the drivers are 😭

user16 true

user57 gorg!!!

yourbsf i see you!!!!! 👀

y/n.piastri LMFAO

yourbsf well text me the details…

y/n.piastri yes ma’am 🫡

-

INSTAGRAM (PRIVATE)

liked by yourbsf, jacobelordi, and 12 others

y/n.private lately with me 😘😘

view all comments

yourbsf cuties!!!!

jacobelordi what is that second picture?

y/n.private it’s a picture of you with a bow edited on you! 🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

jacobelordi did you do that?

y/n.private yes!!!!

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by jacobelordi, oscarpiastri, and 167,282 others

y/n.piastri 🤍🤍

view all comments

user3 SOFT LAUNCH??

user88 i know!!!

user00 anyone know who the guy is?

user2 i think it’s jacob elordi cause he’s been liking her posts

user7 idk but @oscarpiastri & @yourbsf may!

oscarpiastri maybe 🤷

yourbsf i can’t disclose such information

user675 😻😻😻😻

user013 the last photo 👀👀👀

user4 and the first one! they seem so cute together 😊

user37 ok but she looks sooo pretty in the second pic

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by y/n.piastri, oscarpiastri, and 568,926 others

jacobelordi me and my girl @y/n.piastri

view all comments

user56 my husband 😖😖😖😖

user78 i can’t have anything 🪦

user0034 😍😍😍😍😍

user4 she kinda reminds me of rapunzel in the second photo!

user00 ok but they’re kinda cute together

user3 i guess…. i’m kinda salty about it

user6 like you had a chance??? side eye 😒

user002 who even is she?

user23 she’s the sister of a Australian f1 driver (oscar piastr)

user22 ok i see him!

user46 love to see a fellow aussie

user378 🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺

user402 and the kangaroos 🦘 🦘

y/n.piastri you beat me to the hard launch ☹️☹️

jacobelordi i’ll make it up to you :)

user4002 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

oscarpiastri i swear if you hurt her…

jacobelordi you’ll run me over with your race car

oscarpiastri bingo!

-

INSTAGRAM

liked by jacobelordi, yourbsf, and 306,372 others

y/n.piastri me and my mans 🤍💙

view all comments

user3 cute!!!

jacobelordi love you baby

y/n.piastri yeah yeah i love u too

user03 🤗🤗🤗

user77 an upgrade!!!!

user49 damn…..

user00 🇦🇺 🦘

user622 the flowers 😻😊

user08 i know!!! so cute!

oscarpiastri cute.

yourbsf CUTIES I LOVE LOVE 💗💗

y/n.piastri THANK YEWWW

-

SWEETERLOVERS - sorry that took my so long to write 😭

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Foxglove and Oleander.

Pairing: Yandere!Sukuna x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 6.0k

Commissioned by the very lovely @letstalktea.

TW: Heian Era AU, Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Blood + Violence, Deliberate Manipulation, Obsessive Behavior, and Implied Cannibalism.

Sukuna first arrived the night your chrysanthemums bloomed.

That was the only reason you weren’t in the temple when the fire reached it. Against your better judgement and the wishes of your superiors, you’d committed yourself to spending the night in the courtyard, carefully monitoring each delicate bud as they slowly unfurled and stained your garden with scattered blotches of bright, bleeding scarlet. In the morning, it would be your responsibility to gather each flower, dry their petals, and deliver them to the temple’s healers to use as medicinal herbs before you were allowed to get to your less seasonal chores, but tonight, the chrysanthemum belonged to you.

From your little corner of the courtyard, you watched as flames climbed the side of the side of the mountain, consuming the forest that surrounded your home before latching onto the servants’ barracks, then the outer sanctuaries, before finally reaching the main body of the temple. There were a few screams to accompany the fire’s first arrival, but they were quickly drowned out by the fire’s deafening roar, by the sound of buildings already mostly burnt away collapsing into themselves and putting their unfortunate occupants out of their misery. You could feel the heat, hear the others begin to flee, but it was only as the fire reached the peak of its gluttony that he emerged, entirely unscathed and painted with the blood of those you supposed you may have cared about, if you’d had more time. Sukuna, although you wouldn’t know to call him by that name, just yet.

It went without saying that he was hideous. Too many limbs, too many eyes, too many mouths – every part of him distorted with bulk and muscle and ink. His teeth struck you first, bared and glinting in the blinding firelight, then his clothing, the tattered and charred remains of what appeared to be a once fine kimono tied around his waist. He was carrying a spear, but he drove it into the ground as he stepped out of the inferno. There was something slung over his shoulder, too – a corpse, male and burnt beyond the point of recognizability – but that was abandoned just as thoughtlessly, left to rot on the outskirts of your garden. You were glad. Your chrysanthemums wouldn’t survive being crushed by such dead weight.

He didn’t notice you immediately. You stayed where you were, kneeling in the dirt, as he turned in either direction, taking in the devastation with a full-chested laugh. The noise was, in kinship with his appearance, unspeakably gruesome.  

Finally, he turned to face you, his eyes lighting up in spite of the stark shadows cast over his face. His spear was still within arm’s reach, but he made no attempt to retrieve it – holding out an open hand to you, instead. “Are you a monk or a maiden?” he asked, his voice more of a growl than anything proper, anything human. “I’ve already had my fill of the former, tonight.”

“A servant,” you answered, bowing your head by way of greeting. “I tend the gardens, among other things. Are you the one killing all the acolytes?”

“Among other things.” His tone had a mocking lilt, although he seemed far from vicious. You’d been warned about that, once, by someone very dear to you. You couldn’t remember the specifics, but the sentiment was still clear enough. ‘Do not fear the animal that bares its teeth, but the creature who lures you closer before it lunges’, or something like that. “I’m afraid I only have a taste for holy meat, tonight. Although, if you run, I’ll certainly take more enjoyment in striking you down.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but—”

“Lord,” he corrected. “Make that mistake again and it’ll be the last time I allow you the privilege of using your tongue.”

“My apologies, my lord.” Again, you bowed your head. “The high priest can be harsh with his discipline. My ankle is still healing, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough for either of us to get very much out of it.”

He grinned, and the fire raged on behind him. “Grovel, then. Perhaps, if you manage to please me, I’ll be merciful and kill you quickly.”

He was clearly a man (man? monster? beast?) of great ego. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to block out the taste of something harsh and acidic rising up from the back of your throat. “If it’s all the same to you,” you managed, eventually, sparing one last glance towards your chrysanthemums. They really were beautiful. You could only regret that you’d never get to see them in the light of day. “I’d really rather not. It seems like it be easier, to just… uh, let you get the job done, as it were.”

In his defense, his pride overshadowed his shock. That, or you simply weren’t the first person he’d met to pay your own life such little regard. “I’ve cut down braver men for bolder suggestions.”

“But you cut them down all the same.” You swallowed, dryly. It’d been a while since you’d last had anything to eat or drink – the better part of a day, at least – but you supposed you wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer. “I’m sorry, my lord. I would try to run, but my ankle really does make things difficult.”

He regarded you for a moment, as yet another wing of the temple buckled under its own weight. You decided, as you stared back at him, that his eyes weren’t so terrible – the pair he was supposed to have, at least. Although currently narrowed and creased around the edges, they had a pleasant color, a unique shade of red that seemed to glow when it caught the firelight. At least one part of him was bearable to look at.

Finally, he broke the silence, his resonant voice taking on a more authoritative cadence. “Come.”

He didn’t extend a hand, or gesture for you to follow, only trekking onward – towards the temple’s gates, left open in the panic of the exodus.  Gingerly, weary of your injured ankle, you pushed yourself to your feet and hastened to his side. Sukuna only paid you glance by way of acknowledgement, but you didn’t mind. “Are you going to kill me in the woods, instead?”

“Uraume’s been asking for another set of hands.” You weren’t sure what he was talking about, but you nodded as if you understood entirely. He spared you a small, thoughtless smile, and you decided that he was also the type of man who often enjoyed the luxury of never being questioned. “If they don’t care for you, I’ll kill you wherever I wish.”

“Ah.” You passed under the temple gates by his side. Not long after that, you heard the great crash of stone into earth, and knew that those, too, had collapsed. “I hope it’s somewhere with lots of flowers. I’ve always wanted to die somewhere beautiful.”

His only answer was another, more lingering glance in your direction, a low bark of a laugh. Satisfied, you let the conversation lapse into silence and walked into the night by the side of a monster.

~

“How do you choose where to go?”

He didn’t respond, not immediately. Instead, one of his spare hands brought yet another grape to your lips, and with a pleased hum, you accepted it, savoring the sour tinge that accompanied the sweetness. From what you gathered, he preferred savory to sweetness, sweetness to bitterness, and bitterness to all other flavors that followed. He rarely ate anything that wasn’t the strange, ambiguous meat prepared by Uraume, his ever-smiling mastress of rituals, but the last village you’d passed through had a surplus of fruit. It’d seemed like a waste to let all of it rot, now that there was no one left to enjoy it.

It was strange – traveling with Sukuna and Uraume. They seemed to be on a pilgrimage of sorts, the destination unknown and the purpose one of endless carnage. Not that either of them expected you to participate in the devastation. No, as far as you could tell, you were regarded more as a servant, meant to be of aid to Sukuna when Uraume was otherwise occupied. Except, Uraume never seemed to be very occupied at all, and Sukuna very rarely needed aid, and you were often left in a position more akin to that of a pet than anything else – kept around predominantly because Sukuna found it entertaining to do so. Not that you minded. Pets were cherished and coddled. Pets never went hungry. Pets weren’t expected to be anything other than endearing and obedient, which wasn’t totally dissimilar to the things you were always expected to be, regardless of what you were supposed to call yourself.

Currently, you were taking shelter in an abandoned shrine not quite dilapidated enough to be considered unlivable, Uraume tending the hearth while Sukuna stared absent-mindedly at a map pilfered from the shine’s stockroom, the colored ink nearly too faded to read. You paid little mind to either of them – content enough to remain sprawled across Sukuna’s lap, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. This was the first time you’d spoken in minutes, reluctant to break the comfortable silence. Sukuna didn’t seem to mind the sound of your voice, and you didn’t want that to change. “I don’t,” he admitted, eventually. He only spoke for himself, but it was given that you and Uraume would follow. “I go where I please. I only like to know that, when I arrive, there’ll be something worth my time waiting to receive me.”

“So particular, my lord.” You felt something tap against your bottom lip, and opened your mouth to accept a perfectly sweet, perfectly ripe strawberry. “Tell me, then – what would please you?”

He seemed to think for a long moment. Finally, he asked, “What village were you born to?”

His intention went unspoken, but the implication was clear. Sukuna’s sole pastime was destruction, with the target of his ire being any person, town, or creature unfortunate enough to cross his path. Although you’d never seen him go out of his way to find prey before, you were sure willingly pointing him in the direction of vulnerable quarry would result in a predictable outcome.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. Things like that can be so hard to remember,” you said, which wasn’t untrue. Your memory was a fickle thing – uncooperative on your best days and deliberately misleading on your worst. “You know, being a baby at the time and all.”

His fingers drummed thoughtfully against your side. “You must have family somewhere, servant.”

“Not necessarily.” You shut your eyes to stop yourself from squirming, sighing as you rested your head against his shoulder. “My parents abandoned me before I was old enough to learn their names. A scrap collector took me in some time after that, but he traveled quite often, and I lost track of him years ago.” You paused, shook your head. “Like I said, things like this can be difficult to remember. I’m sorry, my lord.”

There was a slight hum, a momentary lapse. Abruptly, you felt his hands shift to your waist, Sukuna repositioning your smaller form with all of the strength and all of the thought it might’ve taken an ordinary person to right a toppled-over doll. Your back came to rest against his chest as one of his spare hands cupped your chin, directing your attention towards the yellowed map. “Pick somewhere,” he muttered, his voice low and his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “Anywhere. Before I pull your unhelpful little tongue out of your throat.”

“Of course, my lord.” Acquiesce came first, a real answer second. Your gaze fell to the map in front of you. It took a second, but you found what you were looking for quickly enough. “Here,” you said, pointing to an area north of your current location. “There’s a village in the eastern corner of this valley with a small population of young farmers and very little in the way of redeeming qualities. But, in the town square, there grows a cherry blossom tree tall enough to scrap against the belly of the sky with branches that stretch as far as the eye can seem. When it blooms, its petals are great enough in volume to carpet the surrounding acre in pink.” You straightened your back, decisively avoiding sinking back into his chest. “I… I wouldn’t mind visiting it again, if it would please my lord.”

It was a dangerous thing to do – showing your hand so plainly. You’d grown so used to keeping your cards tucked snuggly against your chest, even talking this openly felt as if you’d been stripped bare and put on exhibition in front of him.

But, if Sukuna realized that he was the audience to your performer, he neglected to acknowledge it. He only looked toward Uraume, who perked to attention immediately. They were good at that – pretending not to listen. Not as talented as you, of course, but good nonetheless. “We start traveling east tomorrow,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m adding another leg to our journey.”

His primary attention remained on them, but a few of his unblinking secondary eyes – repulsive in their lack of necessity – darted to you, watching for any signs of satisfaction, of pleasure. You only schooled your expression, retreating into your own mind to count the days until the cherry blossoms bloomed.

~

It took a surprising amount of time for you to catch Uraume in the act. Not overly long, but more time than you would’ve expected with them making no particular effort to hide the evidence of their ‘ritual preparation’ and you making no exceptional attempt to avoid finding out why their snow-white sleeves were so often stained red. If allowed to, you might’ve gone on living in the bliss of plausible deniability until your time with Sukuna and his chosen companionship came to an end, but he was not so kind, and there was little entertainment to be had in such a passive participant.

Still, you would’ve liked another week, another month, another season. You’d never cared for kitchens, but you cared for them least when they reeked of rotting meat.

The stench was almost worse than the sight – almost, but not quite. Then again, you were struggling to think of something worse than Uraume, all practiced tranquility and iced-over smiles, elbow-deep in the cavity a long dead middle-aged man, his body bare and spread over the stone countertop. You recognized him not by his face, but by his features – his wealth-fattened face, his uncalloused hands, the lack of definition to his legs that those who toiled could rarely afford to go without. He must’ve been the lord who owned the palace you currently found yourself residing in – a sprawling, decadent structure that it’d taken hours to clean after the massacre. Sukuna would survive wherever his whims lead, but he preferred to be comfortable. You didn’t mind. You preferred it when Sukuna was comfortable, too.

 It was clear they hadn’t been expecting you, either. Their dark eyes bored into you where you lingered in the doorway, a wicker basket on your hip and your robes still dusted with soil. Most of your day had been spent in the palace gardens. Its former caretaker had planted their shiso along the garden wall, where it would only receive partial sun in the best season – a common enough mistake, for how easy it was to mistake for basil, and a tricky one to correct. An experienced caretaker should’ve known better, but as the herbs were still alive while their keeper was very much not, you could consider their negligence repaid.

You made the first move –bowing at the waist by way of greeting. “Lord Sukuna asked me to fetch his tea,” you explained, as you straightened your back. You didn’t feel the need to mention that’d he’d sought you out in your gardens to do so. “I thought I’d bring you a few herbs in the same trip. My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to disturb you.”

The corner of their lips quirked downward. It wasn’t quite a frown, but it was the closest thing to one that you’d ever earned from them. You weren’t upset. Even glowering, they would’ve been breath-taking. “He wanted you to see my—” They paid a glance toward the dismembered lord, their arm still buried in his chest. “My preparations.”

“It would seem so.”

“And he wanted to know how you’d react. There’s a good chance he’ll ask me about this, later on.”

“I’d say it’s more of a certainty.”

“I’d understand it, if you wanted to leave. I know there are few ordinary humans who can stomach tasks so—” Another pause, this one longer than the first. Clearly, they were making an attempt to watch their tongue. “—needlessly visceral.”

“If I did try, how long would you give me before telling Sukuna?” This time, they choose to hold their tongue entirely, their slight frown deepening into a full-blown scowl. It took everything you had not to let your own satisfaction shine through.

Rather, you paid them another shallow bow before the threshold and setting down your basket on the nearest length of empty counter. “It’s mostly shiso, but I found some usable ginger and garlic, too, and a few stalks of parsley. Is there anything I can do to help?”

After a moment of consideration, Uraume shook their head. It only took a few minutes to make the tea you’d been sent to fetch, but they were minutes passed in silence, undisturbed save for the quiet chime of ceramic against ceramic. They didn’t start their own work again until you’d left the kitchen entirely, which you were thankful for. They’d been right. There were few humans with stomachs so strong as to withstand such grisly tasks, and you’d never counted yourself among them.

Sukuna had claimed the master’s chambers for himself, of course. You let yourself in without knocking, immediately finding Sukuna sprawled across the wonderfully ornate futon that dominated most of the floorspace. He smiled when he saw you, but his expression fell as soon as you returned the gesture.

He didn’t mention Uraume, or the kitchens, or the thick stench of iron-tinged blood that now seemed to fill every corner of the vast estate. You hummed as you poured his tea, and remained at his bedside as he took a long drink, followed shortly by an approving nod. You tried to make your escape quickly, already fantasizing about retreating back to your secluded garden, but Sukuna caught you before you could so much as turn towards the door. “Attend to what you must,” he started, his tone simultaneously dismissive and attention-seeking. “But return here, when you’re done. Bring your belongings, too – you won’t be going back to your bedroom again.”

You didn’t falter, but not for lack of reason to. You’d chosen your bedroom carefully, surveyed the better half of the residential wing before finding quarters that suited you. It was sparse by way of comforts and furniture, but the sole window looked over the mountainside, the landscape stretching on for miles upon miles without interruption. You would’ve been pressed to think of a finer view.

“As you wish.” And then, with a chirp of a laugh, “You know, we spend so much time with one another while traveling. I thought you would’ve taken our stationary periods as an excuse to get away from Uraume and I.”

“If I had a weaker will, maybe.” He reclined, let his head lull to the side, as if inviting you to counter, to protest – or worse, to step closer. “Why? Do you have something to say, servant?”

“Only how pleased I am to be of service to my lord.” You could’ve bowed, but decided against it. This time, when you took your leave, Sukuna was kind enough not to get in your way. Then again, he didn’t have a reason to.

He must’ve known that you were always going to come back.

~

“Who gave you permission to leave, servant?”

No one, but you’d hoped he wouldn’t notice until you were already gone. Stifling the urge to cringe, you turned on your heel and retreated back to the riverbank, not far from where Sukuna had left his robes, deliberately keeping your eyes on the ground. He rarely let you leave his side, but having you remain within eyeshot while he bathed was a newer development – and a tricker one to justify to yourself, at that. You were still allowed to remain more of a voyeur than a participant, but you weren’t naive enough to believe that he’d allow there to be such a great distance between you for much longer.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” Your eyes may have been downcast, but your voice was a light and as upbeat as ever. “I only hoped to catch Uraume before they finished. Servants have to bathe too, you know, and those of us with no limbs to spare can be rather hesitant to do so alone so deep into the forest.”

“Join me, then.”

Ah.

You should’ve been expecting that, honestly. You had no one but yourself to blame.

“My lord,” you managed with an airy laugh, feigning disbelief. “I’m just not sure if someone of my position should—”

Considering Sukuna’s size, he could move impressively fast. You’d only managed to take half a step back before you felt a hand curling around your wrist, pulling you off of the bank and into the river. You managed to take all of two stumbling steps forward before your foot caught on a slick river stone and you fell to your knees, ice-cold water immediately soaking through your thin robes. Sukuna made no effort to catch you, laughing as you tripped over yourself. He’d always seemed terrible to you, but you couldn’t remember the sound of his voice ever being so vile.

Biting back a sigh or some other, more telling show of displeasure, you started to push yourself to your feet, but stopped as soon as you felt Sukuna’s fist curl around your collar, another finding the back of your head. In a brief moment of blissful obliviousness, you thought he meant to help you – or, to restrain you and savor your humiliation for a few seconds longer, at the very worst. You almost thanked him, as little as your gratitude meant to Sukuna.

Then, your head was forced below the water, and you thought better of it.

It happened too suddenly to brace yourself. Your first reaction, operating purely out of instinct, was to open your mouth and try to breathe in – an idea as primal as it was unhelpful. Frigid water flooded into your mouth, your throat, liberating you from any amount of air you might’ve been able to hold onto and filling the now-vacant space with a chill that seemed to bite into your throat and leave everything it touched throbbing, numb. Your second was to thrash against Sukuna’s hold – which was, predictably, equally as useless. He was stronger than you could ever hope to be, than any real human being ever should be. Thick fingers threaded themselves into your hair, the hand holding the collar of your robes falling away only to find the nape of your neck, cementing your place at his mercy.

You tried to be rational, to exhale, to not panic, but something thick and solid seemed to be lodged at the base of your throat, and you couldn’t think about breathing without choking, and it was hard not to panic when you were hyper-aware that you were going to be drowned in some godforsaken river in some heartless forest at the hands of an unlovable monster. You were running out of air too quickly – you were supposed to have more time. He couldn’t have dragged you down any longer than a minute ago, but you could already feel an acute throbbing in your temples, make out dark spots dancing in the corners of your vision. Your body thrashed and stiffened in turns, but it was only when your form went limp in his hold that Sukuna jerked you back to the surface – hauling you back to the shore and letting you collapse onto the welcoming sand. He stood by, his grin the embodiment of mirth, as you hacked up acid-tinged water and blinked back tears, sucking in shallow breaths between coughing fits. Every inhale left your chest tense and aching, though, and every exhale felt like you were giving up something precious, something irreplaceable. You did your best to ignore the strain, to put it out of your mind. You had a feeling it would be some time before you could breathe painlessly again.

It took long, agonizing minutes for you to so much as begin to recover, but Sukuna remained by your side, waiting patiently. At some point, he lowered himself to your height – falling into a crouch and bringing a hand up to your back, rubbing circles into the apex of your spine as you coughed and clawed at the shore. He didn’t hum, or speak, or apologize, but you hadn’t expected him to. To initiate would be to taint what he sought so violently: your reaction. He wouldn’t do anything to spoil his prize, not so close to victory.

No, he wouldn’t dare.

The responsibility of denying him fell solely to you.

“My—”You tried to raise your head, to look at him, only to cut yourself off – another lungful of brackish water forcing its way past your lips before you could find your voice again. “My lord,” you managed, eventually. “If you’d like to bathe together, please give me a moment to undress, first. You know how long it can take cotton to dry.”

To his credit, his composure held. There was another throaty laugh, a sudden edge to his smile. “You should be more careful, songbird. One day, I’m going to eat you alive, and your last words to me are going to how glad you are to serve your master one last meal.”

“There would be no greater honor.” You managed an unsteady smile before dropping your head low, curling into yourself, and coughing up until your throat burnt and your rib cage seemed ready to burst. Sukuna only shook his head, taking you by the shoulders and leaning you against his chest, ensuring your stability before his attention shifted to your robes. With a surprising delicacy, he undid the sash bound around your waist, shrugging off your ruined yukata and carrying you back into the water. Your nails bit into his chest, but if he felt your involuntary resistance, it wasn’t enough to deter him.

Your body was lowered gingerly into one of the river’s shallower portions, and Sukuna kneeled behind you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. You shut your eyes, but you could still feel his thumb tracing idly over your cheek, his chest reverberating against your back as he all but purred in delight. “I could hear your heart racing as I pushed you under.” And then, with a feather-light kiss to the top of your head, “It’s a relief to know there’s at least one part of you I can trust to be honest with me.”

You didn’t answer – only smiling as you melted into his palm.

~

The cherry blossom tree was larger than you’d remembered.

The village that surrounded it had grown, too. That made sense – it’d been years since you last passed through this area, and such a lovely corner of the world was bound to attract merchants and traveling warriors and those who, like yourself, simply found themselves drawn to beautiful things. You’d been able to see its wonderous branches rising above the horizon days before you were supposed to reach the village, started catching sakura petals on the breeze while you were still hours away from the nearest scrap of civilization, and a small part of you died upon being told that you would have to wait until after sunrise for your reunion, until Sukuna had finished glutting himself on blood and death and misery. Not that you listened. Uraume was tasked with looking after you, but they weren’t difficult to slip away from. They seemed to be fond of you – or, at least, surprisingly sympathetic to their master’s newest pet. Either way, they let you go without much of a struggle.

An hour or so after midnight, you made your way through fleeing crowds, maneuvering around mounds of disembodied extremities and between flame-eaten farmhouses, still in the early stages of burning down. Wherever Sukuna went, the fire seemed to follow, so you tried to stay where the light seemed the dimmest, where the smoke seemed the thinnest, focused solely on finding your way to the center of town – to the cherry blossom. You couldn’t make out its silhouette against the pitch-black landscape, but you didn’t need to. You would’ve been able to find your way to it on instinct alone.

That being said, now that you stood before it, you found it hard to believe that you’d come to the right village, let alone the right tree.

You didn’t remember your cherry blossom looking quite so… absent.

It was as if some great and wrathful deity had broken your sakura off at the base and spirited its body away, leaving only a charred stump behind. There was evidence that there had been more, at some point – pale pink petals littering the ground, a rope fence that had to have once guarded more than desecrated remains – but the cherry blossom was gone, as the village built around it would be by sunrise. It was cruel, really, when you could put your own despair aside long enough to use such tame vernacular. It was monstrous.

Speaking of monsters – yours was quick to rear his ugly head.

He’d never looked more terrible. Ash tainted the pale color of his hair, blood and gore staining his chest, his face, his hands. As always, he carried no weapon, and as always, he was entirely uninjured, untouched save for the byproduct of the devastation he’d wrought. You watched him approach in your peripheral, bracing yourself a moment before four arms wrapped around your smaller body and pulled you into a stone-hard chest. You knew better than to attempt to resist Sukuna, but this might have been the first time you were tempted to try.

“Songbird,” he muttered, the petname salt to a fresh wound. If he was surprised, let alone angry that you’d snuck away from Uraume, your disobedience caused him no strife. “I come bearing gifts.”

The upper of his two left hands uncurled, revealing a long, stick-like object. A hairpin, you realized, after a moment, the prong of a fine dark mahogany. It boasted only a single ornament: a small, expertly made glass flower. A cherry blossom, to be more specific.

You’d never been quick to anger. For as long as you could remember, in fact, you’d never found yourself angered by much of anything before.

You tasted blood before you realized you were biting your tongue; swallowing back a scream, or howl, or some other unsightly noise. It took you longer than you would’ve liked to regain your composure, but Sukuna was preoccupied, his attention dedicated solely to burying his face in the crook of your neck, to clutching onto you so tightly, you had to wonder how he’d ever managed to let go. It’d been inane to ever compare yourself to a pet, to something so cherished. It’d been inane to ever believe you were anything more than the favored plaything of a drooling, overgrown mutt.

With trembling hands, you plucked the hairpin out of his palm and held it up appraisingly. When Sukuna raised his head, his pointed teeth still lingering against your throat, you did the only thing you could think to – smiling as you leaned into him. “It’s beautiful.” And then, with a sigh, “It’s only a shame to have missed the real thing.”

For all of Sukuna’s faults, you could only be thankful that pride was among them.

“You don’t have to worry.” A hand found your jaw, holding you in place as he pressed a kiss into your temple. “I had more than my fill before you arrived.”

As you watched the village burn in his arms, you thought only of the color of chrysanthemums and the taste of iron, heavy on your tongue.

~

Someone had told you, once, that all the loveliest flowers bloomed under moonlight.

You watched the sky as you waited – your eyes never leaving the sliver of it you could see through small, barred window built into the opposing wall. He’d taken you to another vacant temple, tonight, claimed the head priest’s chambers as his den, and you’d followed lovingly, never uttering so much as a word of complaint. You’d let him rest his head in your lap, raked your fingers through his hair, and brought a cask of sweet wine laced with bitter herbs to his lips whenever he threatened to stir. Eventually, his eyes eased shut, his pulse slowing and his expression dulling into something calm, something docile. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve started to doubt that he was a monster at all.

You didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t make a run for the door. You only reached into your sleeve, fetching the cherry blossom hairpin he’d gifted you weeks ago, now, the hairpin you carried dutifully ever since. You waited for him to turn onto his side, revealing the unarmored half of his face, before aligning the pointed tip with his ear, raising it above your head, and plunging it—

You felt his fingers dig into your thigh, another hand latching onto your hip. Your back slammed into the stiff futon with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs – leaving you breathless and paralyzed in an instant. When you recovered enough to think, you found Sukuna above you, straddling your waist, a hand planted on either side of your head. He was breathing heavily, as if excited. You knew it was impossible, but you found yourself wishing that he’d find a way to regurgitate his own lungs and choke on them.

“My lord,” you started, each word measured. You were careful to keep your voice low, your smile perfectly saccharine. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

 His response was a manic smile, a bark of a laugh. “It’s too late to play innocent.” He lowered himself that much closer to you, his chest a hair’s width from making contact with yours. “How many times have you poisoned my wine, songbird?”

“Poisoned? Never.” You’d let go of your hairpin in the collision. Currently, it was lying against the wall to your right – just an inch or so out of your reach. There were other, more accessible weapons closer to you, but if you were going to kill Sukuna, you wanted it to be with that abomination. “If my lord is asking how many times I’ve treated his wine with herbs and spices, then twice. Once to see how he handled his drink, and tonight.”

You’d done him a disservice – writing him off as simply monstrous. He was more beast-like than anything, with his back arched and his talons dug into the bedding, with eyes so wide and so vibrant you believed, if only for a second, that he would manage to burn holes through your skull. “A day will come,” His anticipation was palpable. It was a wonder how such a glutton could ever sound so starved. “Where nothing will fall from you sweet lips but my praises, and I will know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you mean every last word.”

For once, you could only say what you meant. “I’d rather fucking die.”

There was a change to his animal posture, a glint of white teeth in moonlight, and then his mouth was crashing into yours – all fangs and tongue and intensity. Mindlessly, operating off of your own sort of base impulse, you reached out, your fingertips just barely brushing against the prong of your hairpin.

It was only as you curled your fist around it that you kissed him back, unable to suppress your grin.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Kinktober day four

Part one here!!!

Sex tape w/old man! Logan part 2

Logan has successfully made you forget about the camera. Then again, he’s sure you’re too out of it to really think about anything anymore.

One of your legs is up on his shoulder, your cunt spread open and stretched out as far as it can. Your body is sore even though you’ve been a pillow princess for the past…You don’t even know how long it’s been.

The thing about Logan is he can fuck for hours. Hours. His healing factor means that his stamina holds out for a long long long time. Much longer than you. Not that you’re complaining, of course.

Logan grunts. He may be two hundred years old, but he fucks like he’s twenty. Between his strenght, his experience and his stamina, he has you like a fucking ragdoll in his bed.

Fuck, he can’t wait to watch the video later, see how cock-drunk you are, how gorgeous you look…

“Baby,” Logan says, kissing your jaw. “You alright to keep going?”

You nod weakly. He’s not sure if you’re aware of what you’re agreeing to or not, and he’s afraid he’s pushed you too far.

He slows his thrusts some. “Words, bub. Answer me in words.”

“Y-yes, ‘m okay,” you whimper out, nodding softly. “‘m okay, Daddy.”

“That’s a good girl. Give daddy a kiss, hm?”

Your lips meet his in a messy, sloppy kiss. You’re almost to weak to do anything besides moan and take his cock, and he’s all for it.

He grunts. He’s made you come about five times, and although he could keep going for hours, his cock is twitching with the need for release.

With expert hands, he reaches between your bodies and finds your clit. He rubs it just how you like it, groaning and gasping as your cunt clenches him tighter.

You cry out something he doesn’t understand, but he hears the word daddy in there somewhere.

“I know, sweet thing. I know. Daddy’s here, ‘m gonna make sure you get yours, yeah?”

Your hands are holding onto his arms, nails digging into the muscles there. Jesus, the things he wants to keep doing to you…But his orgasm is not far and he knows you need a break.

“Come for me, bub. I wanna see that pretty pussy cream on my cock, y’hear me?” he groans.

“Y-yes, yes!” you squeak out, making him laugh lowly.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs as he buries his nose into the crook of your neck and matches the pace of his thumb on your clit to his thrusts.

It doesn’t take even a minute for you to come, gummy walls clenching around him hard, eyes rolling back, nails scratching at his skin.

He follows not long after. His cock twitches as he grunts and growls, almost unable to keep thrusting from how hard you’re clenching him.

He comes hard, thick ropes of his creamy seed spurting into you, filling you to the brim.

You gasp softly and he laughs. “Fuck, that’s so good. This pussy is so good,” he says, his voice hoarse and breathless.

He kisses your forehead, nuzzles his nose against your jaw. “You okay, bub? I didn’t push you too far?”

“‘m good,” you reply between heavy breaths.

Logan nods, glad he hasn’t broken you. He kisses your neck before moving away, pulling his softening cock out of you.

You shudder at the loss and before you can process what’s happening, he spreads your legs open.

“C’mon, baby. Let the camera see how good I fucked you,” he says, moving aside so the camera can get a good shot of your red, soaked, swollen cunt as his come drips out of you.

---

OMFGGGG I’m sorry, if it’s not this, then I don’t want it

Blog masterlist

Kinktober masterlist

[norrisainz33]

Team USA || LS2

☆ summary: the 2024 Paris Olympics have started and Logan Sargeant’s partner is set to make her Olympic debut

☆ pairing: logan sargeant x olympian!reader

☆ fc: none until the very end

☆ warnings: none

୨୧┈୨୧

ynuser has made a post

liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, lilymhe, teamusa, and 210,002 others

ynuser: the day i’ve always dreamed of is here - i’m headed to the 2024 olympics to represent teamusa! thank you to my friends, my family, and my logan for supporting me through every up and down over the past few years. time to get the gold 🇺🇸🦅🏅

view all 234 comments

teamusa: can’t wait to see you in Tahiti! 🇺🇸

user1: RAHHHH AMERICA 🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸

user4: ‘my logan’ i’m sleeping in the road

logansargeant: i could not be more proud of you y/n/n

ynuser: couldn’t have done it without you logie bear

user2: they’re my favorite couple on the grid

williamsracing: congratulations y/n! american or not we will be cheering you on 💙

yourbff: america’s it girl

user3: USA USA USA

Williamsracing has posted a video

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, teamusa, ynuser, and 609,012 others

williamsracing: Ahead of the Olympics starting today, we put Albono and Sarge to the test 😂🎨

view all 245 comments

user13: whelp they tried their best

user16: LOGIE IS SO POOKIE CODED liked by ynuser

ynuser: close enough 🇺🇸

williamsracing: our olympic queen 😫🫶🏻

ynuser: my admin 😘

user5: admin has a crush on her too it seems

user12: RAHHHHHH LOGAN 🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸

user17: resign logie bear or else!!!!!!!

logansargeant has posted a story

view story replies

user22: BIG DAY FOR AMERICA 🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸

alex_albon: let’s go y/n/n!!! 🏄‍♀️🌊

lilymhe: OUR GIRLFRIEND IS GONNA EAT

logansargeant: our?!

lilymhe: how many times do we have to talk about this logan!!! that’s my girl too!!!

logansargeant: fine but you have to share alex with me then

lilymhe: done and done

ynuser: i’ll be cheering for you from tahiti!! score some points for me baby 💙🇺🇸

logansargeant: i’ll do my best sweet girl 💙 score a perfect 10 for me 😘

ynuser: call me when you can after the race, i miss you and your face so much

logansargeant: i will!!! i miss and love you so very much

user27: you’re scoring loints this weekend i just know it

f1tv has posted a video

view comments

user27: seeing him happy is such a good feeling

user88: no for real - he hasn’t been this happy in a post race interview in a while

user47: he needed this

user28: logan deserves the world

user29: he loves y/n so much it’s sickening

user31: boyfriend of the year award is his fr

user23: sargenation we are so up rn

user88: we used to pray for times like these

user55: both of our american beauties slayed today

user65: someone get this man a contract asap!!!

logansargeant made a post

liked by ynuser, williamsracing, teamusa, oscarpiastri, and 546,203

logansargeant: thankful for the break because it means I get to cheer on y/n in person as she represents teamusa. into the final push for gold we go🏅💙🇺🇸

view all 765 comments

user24: mr and mrs america

user25: USA USA USA RAHHHHH EAGLE GUN SHOT BOOM BOOM BOOM 🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸

oscarpiastri: i may be rooting for australia but i am still so proud of you y/n

ynuser: osco 😭 thank you

ynuser: i’m so glad you’re here logie. your support is unmatched 💙

user27: THE power couple

lilymhe: america’s sweethearts 🫶🏻

ynuser: wifey 🤭

lilymhe: mommy 😍

logansargeant: stop flirting on my own post

lilyzneimer: the most iconic girl in the world, let’s go y/n!!!

ynuser: the sweetest girl in the world 🫶🏻

logansargeant has made a post

liked by teamusa, williamsracing, ynuser, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 589,575 others

logansargeant: SHE DID IT!!!! Y/N is an olympic gold medalist!!!! To say i’m proud would be an understatement. y/n/n, i am in awe of you.. you have worked harder than anyone i’ve ever seen and i am so lucky to have been able to grow and reach for the stars by your side. You’re a gold medalist baby - you’re the best in world. soak it in 💙🇺🇸🏄‍♀️

view all 984 comments

user2: not me crying watching y/n take the gold (im not even american)

oscarpiastri: congratulations y/n!! an impressive effort all around. looking forward to you teaching me your ways 😉

carlossainz55: vamos y/n!

lilymhe: QUEEN OF THE WORLD LETS GO

alex_albon: YESS Y/N!!!

williamsracing: our golden girl 💙

naxverstappen1: simply lovely stuff ynuser

alexandrasaintmleux: félicitations ma belle fille 🫶🏻🏅

georgerussell63: y/n yabba dabba did it!! 💪🏻🏄‍♀️

lilyzneimer: i’m so proud of y/n i can’t stop crying 😭

pierregasly: me, kika and simba are so beyond happy for you y/n

user24: stop all the drivers and wags and admin supporting her is so wholesome

user87: the outpouring of love is so beautiful wtf 😭

user25: the american dream (or whatever idk)

ynuser: logan hunter sargeant i love you more than i’ll ever have words for. your support, guidance and compassion over the years is one of the only reasons im here today. thank you for being there for me and flying half way across the world to watch my dreams come true 🤍🤍

logansargeant: there is no place else i would have rather been

user28: listen if my partner doesnt support me as much as logan supports y/n… i dont want it

user65: i just fell to my knees

user29: she is captain america 💙🦅💙🇺🇸

୨୧┈୨୧

☆ a/n: i love the olympics and logan just felt right for this one. thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated

୨୧┈୨୧

© norrisainz33: please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[merlucide]

BLLK BOYS “ICKS”

notes: no way… is merlucide actually doing smth other than shitposts and reblogging?! Tryna get back into the swing ig 🥲🙏

characters: Rin, Reo, Bachira, Oliver, Sendou, Kaiser, Otoya

warnings: none? // pls don’t take this seriously okay 💀

PT1 PT2

ITOSHI RIN

HE LITERALLY IS “I’m not like other girls” 

In the summer he exclusively wears Flipflops

he scoffs at minor inconveniences

MIKAGE REO

If someone mispronounces his name he quickly corrects them “Its actually-“

He swirls his drink around like its wine (it’s a school milk carton)

BACHIRA MEGURU

so oblivious to how he eats- like food all over his face. 

doesn’t wear socks with his slides

forgets to put on deodorant

AIKU OLIVER

he literally is “Ah noo don’t kill  yourself you’re too sexy aha”

Licks/bites his lips sm.

he’s kinda like those TikTok pick me boys

If a woman gets mad at him he’ll go “Jeez didn’t know you were on your period”

SENDOU SHUTO

puts chapstick on in a circle 😭 

If there’s ever a dance circle he’s on the outside trying to get in but missing his chance every time

eats ice cream with a fork

KAISER MICHEAL

when he bumps into walls he hits them ‘back’ (me too, me too)

sleeps with socks on

coughs into his fist

has one playlist

OTOYA EITA

When only wears baseball hats backwards. You don’t look cool Otoya. 

Calls women females (same for Oliver)

Sleeps with only one pillow

Owns at least two “I love MILF’s” shirts

Refers to himself as “The Rizzler” 

Says “fire” and “cap”

He Justin Bieber poses.

Doesn’t know how to properly eat spaghetti (TWIST THE FRICKING FORK?!)

Reeks of Axe body spray

Identifies as a Top G.

Does 3 in 1 body shampoo/conditioner/body wash

Says “Yeet”

Chugs his water and releases the most overdramatic “AH”

Whenever a girl rejects him he says stuff like “You should be glad Im even considering dating you” or “You’re ugly anyway” 

Has a “Saturday is for the boys” flag in his room

Thinks women are hairless

Says “Gyatt” 

Doesn’t tip

He is those boys in school that swear they aren’t gay

IM GONNA TRY TO BE MOTIVATED NOW..!

made May 17th 2024