#I didn't say who but they popped into your head didn't they

[dixonsbugaboo]

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦.

ꜱᴀᴊᴀ ʙᴏʏꜱ🎵

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 3 - 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘺

Fem!Reader x Saja Boys

Summary: Reincarnated in the body of a demon from the last film you saw before you died, you have decided to change the script of the story in your favour. But you didn't count on your presence in the story changing everything.

Warnings: slow burn, swearing, Abby being Abby (aka really silly), Jinu being kinda self-depressed and also a trespasser, ooc (probably), cringe (surely), no proofread (oopsie)

Word count: 2400+

A/N: so! we are so back! I had soooo much fun writing this one. It's kind of a roller coaster of jokes and feelings, but I hope you like it! Also, I want to let you know that I also started to publish this in Wattpad, but I want to update here first (hehe). Last, I really want to thank you all for your support, your kind words, likes, reblogs and comments. It means a lot!

Ch. 2

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What a horrible day.

Someone (probably Abby) had eaten the last yoghurt in the fridge that you were saving for yourself, someone else (Romance, no doubt) had finished your shampoo, your pillow had magically disappeared (and now Mystery had two) and for some reason Baby smelled like your favourite candies.

Living with men was worse than you had imagined.

You had no privacy, no personal space, and no time to even think.

Since it was their first time back in the human world after centuries (in most cases), they didn't really know how some things worked, but at the expense of your mental health, they were modernising at breakneck speed.

Now they had the latest smartphones.

Romance had discovered TikTok, Mystery was now addicted to cat videos, and if you heard Abby say ‘tralalero tralalá’ one more time, you'd gouge his eyes out with spoons. The only one who seemed to be behaving more or less normally was Jinu, who was convinced that mobile phones were something akin to witchcraft and only used his phone for real emergencies (like when he ran out of toilet paper and had to ask for some in the group chat where everyone was).

Thanks to Gwi-ma, you had moved into a fairly large flat in the human world, where the boys shared rooms… except for Jinu and you, who had your own (separately). It had a fairly spacious living room with a large television that you had used to give them master classes on current K-pop, a fully equipped kitchen that you would probably never use, and two bathrooms, which you had learned in a single day were not enough when living with five demons.

At least they were more or less clean. They left the toilet seat down (sometimes), didn't make much noise (when they were asleep) and if they ate something, they left everything clean afterwards (even though what they had eaten was actually yours).

Baby was the most responsible and the only one you didn't want to smack on the head with a chair every ten minutes. He tried to act disinterested, but you had caught him several times enthralled by everyday things: he got up early just to watch the sun rise, he loved staring out the window just to see people coming and going on the street, and he had discovered how wonderful the smell of freshly baked bread was.

But you had to admit that, overall, having them around in such a routine and mundane environment was kind of fun. At least you knew you weren't alone… like you had felt before you died.

No pillow, no shampoo, no candies, and no yoghurt, but you weren't alone.

Someone knocked softly on your door.

"Come in."

"Sorry to bother you…" It was Baby, with his hands hidden behind his back. "But I wanted to thank you for joining us in the human world, and for the plan and everything… And for teaching us how to use the microwave, and…"

"Baby," you interrupted with a smile. You thought it was adorable when he rambled on just because he wasn't quite sure how to put what he wanted to say into words. "Did you want something?"

"I've written something," he said then. It caught you a little off guard. It had been a while since he'd written anything, or at least since he'd told you… You figured with all the debut stuff, rehearsals and everything, he wouldn't have had time. "And I'd like your opinion."

He had his notebook hidden behind his back. He took a couple of steps towards you, as if hesitating, until he finally decided to stretch out his arm and hand it to you. Your fingers brushed against each other when you took it, and something you couldn't quite identify crossed his gaze in that brief moment.

Surely it was just your imagination.

Too much caffeine.

You opened the notebook and turned the pages to the end, to the last thing he had written. As you turned the pages, you were surprised to see that there were many pages full of scribbles and smudges.

"I've been having trouble finding inspiration," he admitted, looking down.

"That's okay," you said with a smile, trying to make him feel better. "Do you want to stay here with me while I read it?"

He nodded with a small smile and finished entering your room. As you sat down in the chair next to the desk, he flopped down on the bed. He just sat there, and as you began to read and sink into the magic of his words, he decided to look around your room.

You had hung one of the Soda Pop posters you had just printed on the wall above your desk, and you had placed a lion stuffed animal on your bed that Byeol didn't know where you had gotten. Your desk was covered with papers, and the bin was full of candy wrappers, your addiction when you lacked inspiration. There were traces of you here and there: a pair of jeans crumpled up on the floor, a pair of trainers in the corner, a calendar full of scribbles hanging behind the door… The most notable thing there was a note, marking two days later, underlined with brightly coloured markers that read ‘DEBUT’, surrounded by little stars.

Then he focused all his attention on you.

You were slightly hunched over (even though he had told you hundreds of times not to) over his notebook, lost in the story, unable to notice the soft smile on his face as he gazed at you without you realising.

He thought it was adorable how you imitated the expressions of the characters in the story, as if that helped you embody it better, and how your eyes sparkled when you read something you liked. Heck, he even liked it when you frowned because you found a mistake. At first, when you met, he thought you were an interesting person, a clear contradiction to everything Jinu had told him about you.

You were talkative, but you also knew how to listen, and you weren't afraid to give your opinion. When you read his writings in hell, you used to drum your claws on your legs, lost in the reading.

How would it feel to hold your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours?

He didn't want to do it romantically, of course not… just as friends. That's right, intertwining your fingers like friends. And caressing your face, running a finger across your lips (for scientific reasons: he just wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked).

"Wow…" you started to say as soon as you finished reading. Your eyes were slightly glinting with tears. You were… excited. "It's… beautiful, Byeol. It's the most beautiful thing I've read in years." You closed the notebook slowly, carefully. You got up from the chair and sat down on the bed next to him, and gave him back the notebook.

"Thank you… Actually, it's kind of strange. It's been a long time since I've been able to find something new that motivates me to write. But everything here is so different compared to down there… It's colourful and alive, you know?"

That's it!

That was exactly what you wanted them to learn about the human world. How beautiful it was. Now you just had to allow him to gradually redeem himself and realise that all was not lost, that he was not alone, that he could have a second chance, and most importantly, that he could regain his soul.

You felt his hand on your leg, trying to get your attention. You turned your face towards him, and found him staring absorbedly into your eyes. You were closer than you should have been, but for some reason, it didn't bother either of you. You trusted him. And he felt drawn to you.

What he had told you was a lie, though. It was true that he had gone through a creative block, but it wasn't exactly travelling to the human world that brought back his inspiration: it was you. You teaching them how to live there, being patient when they did something wrong even though you had explained it many times, you getting angry when they took your things without permission, or when they tried to snoop on what you were reading on your mobile phone.

He tried to deny it, but it was getting harder and harder. Being around you felt soothing; in fact, it felt too good to be true. He didn't want to get too close, because he knew that if he let his guard down, something bad would happen. It had been that way for as long as he could remember.

Besides, what he felt was surely just curiosity, right? It had been a long time since someone so interesting had come into his life. Someone who made him see the reality he was living with new eyes.

Because of you, he was going to call himself "Baby," for goodness' sake.

But at the same time, he was aware that whatever he felt, you were too much. Too good, too cheerful, too… too bright for the shell he had become in the underworld. Haunted by the shame of his past decisions, the decisions that had led him to become just another servant of Gwi-ma.

He had literally sold his soul to the devil.

He was unable to see that, technically, so had you.

Why had you sold your soul to Gwi-ma? How bad had your life been to reach that point?

Someone knocked on the door, and you both jumped. You stood up instinctively, moving away from him.

"Come in," you said after clearing your throat.

Why did Byeol's eyes have to be so beautiful? Shit.

Why did he have to look at you like that after writing something like that?

Why was your heart beating so erratically?

"It's me," said Jinu, opening the door just enough to stick his head in. "I need help. Abby has discovered that Alexa can fart, and he's drinking all the soda in the flat so he can do the backing vocals burping."

"Oh, shit…" Baby slapped his forehead with his hand. "I knew getting that junk was a mistake."

You had already run out to the living room, pushing Jinu aside so you could get to Abby, who was gulping down soda like a pelican while Romance cheered him on, "Chug, chug, chug!"

Indeed, it was turning out to be a horrible day.

The quickest solution was to disconnect the artificial intelligence (forever) and put a lock on the fridge. And explaining to Abby what kidney stones were.

Baby had been on your tail, your moment of intimacy buried in his mind. There were two days left before their first public appearance, and he couldn't be distracted. None of them could.

Being in the human world was fun, yes, and learning everything they were learning (how useful Google was, for example) was incredible. But he had to focus on the fact that all of this, the adventures, living with the boys (and with you), was temporary. He couldn't stray from his goal: defeating the hunters. Giving Gwi-ma a real feast.

So why couldn't he forget the way you looked into his eyes, or the way you said his name?

But while you were solving the soda problem and Byeol was lost in his thoughts, Jinu had entered your room. Without permission.

Oh, how hard you would hit him in the face if you found out…

But you weren't there. You were busy helping Abby with his stomach ache from drinking two litres of soda in one go without stopping to breathe.

Jinu felt miserable. Partly because of everything he had done and regretted (which Gwi-ma reminded him of all the time to keep him in check), and partly because he felt he was still making bad decisions. He was still selfish. He was still… a monster.

Why had he wanted to yell at you when he saw Byeol sitting on your bed?

Why wasn't he the one sitting on your bed?

He let out a sigh.

He didn't understand why you attracted him so much. He didn't understand what you did to exasperate him all the time, but at the same time keep him close to you. Why did you have to be everything he wasn't?

He walked over to your desk, which was covered in papers and completely messy. There were recipes, song lyrics, and even a poem.

Then he realised you had left your notebook there when you left in such a hurry, buried in your mess.

You never, ever forgot that notebook. It was like your second heart or your third lung. You kept it like gold dust and never let any of them look at it.

Unconsciously, Jinu traced the cover, and before he knew it, he had it open in his hands, slowly turning the pages.

And heavens!

Of all the things he could have imagined you hiding in that notebook, he never imagined what he found.

There were not only song lyrics, ideas and concepts for the band, and even notes on how to lead them to the top.

There were also drawings. Portraits.

Jinu didn't know you were such a good artist. But then, he couldn't have known, since you never talked to him about anything personal or unrelated to the plan or the boys.

And most of those portraits were of them. Of the five boys who lived with you.

Jinu was surprised to see them, yes. But above all, he was surprised to find portraits of himself.

Did that mean you didn't hate him?

There were a few...

In one portrait, he was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper, lost in thought.

When had you painted that? You had only just moved in…

And in another, this one just of his face, he appeared in his demon form, with his patterns across his face… but with a sweet look, smiling and showing his fangs.

He ran his fingers carefully over the image.

Then, he heard a noise in the hallway.

He had to leave, and fast.

He tried to leave the notebook as he had found it, and with his heart pounding against his ribs, he remembered that he was actually a demon and could teleport. And that's what he did.

To avoid you.

Because now, if he found himself face to face with you, he didn't know what he would do. Or what he couldn't help doing.

But he did know that if you caught him rummaging through your room, you would smash his face in.

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A/N: so! what a ride, huh? Some Baby time here! And kind of Jinu time too, if you squint your eyes a little... I know some of you want Jinu out of the game BUT I really want to get him the opportunity! Keep in mind that the idea of this story is that a new character can change drastically the plot... and the relationships of it! This means that also the plot may change... hehehehe

Btw next chapter is nearly finished and... I'm sorry to say that it's kind of a filler! But a fanservice one! Can't wait to post it hehe.

Again, thank you for reading. All of your words of support and love mean a lot to me and help me to write a lot (it's puuuure motivation!). Your likes, reblogs and comments help me a lot to write faster (kind of... ) ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡

Taglist: @just-set-things-on-fire @nightmarewasteland @ph1lo-s0ph1a @gremlinartstudio @strayharmony943 @smoophie @valeriele3 @confusedparticle @queenskippy @enerofairy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @nonetheartist @queeniecrystal @zariahthewitch @smoophie @lovely-maryj @nerdsconquerall @feelya @doggyteam2028 @snowy-violet @iivantablackii @satansdaughter123 @bexeris @redkitsu03 @simplyscrewed @pipperika @soukoku63 @prettylittlelavvy @kyxmlii @cloud-9ine @edgycatx @wishiwaswritingrn @ikykwkleeknowwww @starmee-lodurrson @otakusef @rubyninja1 @gblubrry

[lucidwntrr]

송민기 ───〃 TAKE IT SLOW (PART 2)

mingi doesn’t say anything for a second. his mind racing until he gets just the smallest bit of courage to do something he never thought he would have. with eyes squeezed shut, he says, “i-i’ve been wanting to try something.”

── synopsis: after experiencing his first handjob, mingi wants more.

⋆˚꩜｡ pairing: inexperiencedbf!mingi x dom!reader ⋆˚꩜｡ genre & word count: smut || 3.8k+ ⋆˚꩜｡ tags: kind of sub!mingi, virgin!mingi, oral sex (m.receiving), oral fixation (mingi likes your mouth), cum eating, mingi is going crazy, wet dream ꩜｡ a/n: thanks so much for the love on the first part, hope the second is even better !! (i didn't expect this to be almost 4k words but, we ball) ꩜｡ lovelies (people who wanted to be notified): @juicy-red , @lixies-favorite-cookie, @adalinewhite

ever since the day mingi got that handjob, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. well… more specifically how he wants to do it again. and it’s starting to be a nuisance to him and his daily life. recently, he pops a boner whenever you were around and it’s getting harder and harder to hide.

to be more specific, he’s started to hyper-fixate on your mouth. it started a week ago, when mingi woke up and you weren’t in bed. he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, mouth harshly dry, and that’s where he found you.

you were leaned against the counter, wearing your usual bed-attire that consisted of short-shorts (almost too short, mingi often complained) and a tank top. the tank-top that was currently hanging a little low on your chest.

phone in one hand, you were scrolling through your social media, completely unaware of mingi’s presence. in your other hand was a banana that you were snacking on, bringing it up to your lips to take another bite.

and mingi- mingi was intrigued, his eyes following the banana as your put it between your plump lips, no intention of being seductive at all. but to him it was the most obscene thing he has ever witnessed. he swallows, biting on his bottom lip as yours wrapped around the fruit, taking a bite before pulling it away, a tiny string of saliva trailing after it.

mingi can feel the heat crawl up his body, settling on his cheeks, as his breath catches, as well as an ache in his pants, his dick starting to fill out at the scene before him. never in his life did he think he would be jealous of a fucking banana.

he must’ve gasped pretty loud though, sparking your attention. as you turn your head to look his way and say good-morning, mingi whirls around and runs to the bathroom. sinking to the floor, he mutters stupidstupidstupid, as he thunks his head against the door.

you called out his name as he took off, but of course he ignored you, leaving you confused as you went back to eating your banana with a shrug.

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that wasn’t the first incident. later in the week, after having dinner at a restaurant, your proposed the idea of getting ice cream.

“sure,” mingi answered, excited to get a cold treat as it was quite muggy outside tonight, sweating under his sweater. what he didn’t realize was that it would be his biggest regret.

the ice cream parlor that mingi chose was a favorite between the both of you, one that held the memories of a past date. the kind of place that could never let you down, often defending it. he ordered mint chocolate chip and you strawberry.

“i like the strawberry one,” you started when you were both seated with a big smile on your face, cones in hands. “they have little strawberry chunks that makes it better in my opinion.” you finish, taking a lick with a exaggerated moan.

mingi dumbly nodded, trying to focus on what you were saying. but he couldn’t- because you were licking that damn ice-cream. swirling your tongue around the milky treat, sometimes enveloping the coldness with the warmth of your mouth, causing some to rest on the corner of your lips.

he almost wanted to lean in and lick it off himself, but you beat him to it. tongue peeking out the catch it before it fell with a laugh, looking at you with such innocence.

“feeling okay…?” you ask, when you make eye contact with mingi and he was looking back at you, but he wasn’t laughing. the apple of his cheeks were red, his eyes wide and pupils blown, and his ice cream was melting down his shaky hand.

he clears his throat, rapidly blinking and looking away as he says, “y-yeah.” his voice cracking.

you raised an eyebrow and mingi doesn’t meet your eyes, awkwardly slurping up the sticky cream that was dripping down his arm.

“you sure, you’re all red and fidgety?” you ask, looking him up and down.

“i-it’s kind of hot, no?” he stutters, tugging on the collar of his shirt with his non-sticky hand as emphasis to his statement.

“i mean, i guess so…” you agree. you can’t deny that as it was the whole reason that you were at the place anyway. it explains his flush face, but not why he was twitching. you change the subject, shoving your ice cream towards mingi, offering him a taste.

timidly, he takes a small lick and hums at the taste, nodding his head and still avoiding direct eye contact with you. he goes back to his own sweet, making you kick his leg from under the table.

“ow,” he pouts, finally looking at you with furrowed brows. you gesture to his ice cream, wanting him to offer you a taste as well. “you want to try it?” he asks.

you nod your head with a smile. mingi outstretches his hand, you grab it and bring it towards your mouth. mingi watches as you have a taste, swirling your tongue around his ice-cream.

he feels almost dizzy when you look up at him while you lick, satisified with his choice of flavor. mingi’s dick throbs, heart racing, a whine climbing up his throat. he coughs, aggressively pulling his hand back and quickly standing up to leave.

“okay, time to go home.” he states, not turning back as he briskly walks to the door. you don’t have time to protest, rising up from your seat to follow your boyfriend, confused.

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mingi’s most recent incident was just last night, when he had a wet dream about it. kind of-

you were sat across from eachother- both eating from their respective bowls. mingi looked up from his meal to ask you a question, pausing and nearly choking when he gets a peers at you.

you had your chopsticks in your mouth, mindlessly chewing on them with your hand resting against your cheek, deep in thought. it wasn’t until you slipped the utensil in your mouth, sucking the sauce off it that he gets bothered.

it makes mingi squirm in his seat, biting on his bottom his lip as he watches you, feeling himself getting hard. only looking away when your eyes slide over to him, face heating up.

“hm, did you say something?” you asked him, chopsticks still in mouth, afraid you might have missed something he said.

“n-no,” he responds, shoving a hand to in between his legs, pressing on his bulge.

“oh,” you purr, noticing mingi’s arm movements under the table. ditching the chopsticks, you slink out of your seat and make your way over to him, mingi gulping as you get closer. you turn his chair around and look down at the hard-on mingi was hiding. “then what were thinking about, hm?”

“i-i, nothing…”

“really,” you make your way to your knees, dropping in front of him and sliding your hands up his thighs. “so you weren’t thinking about having my mouth on you, like i had them on those chopsticks?”

mingi doesn’t get a second to gather his thoughts, puzzled on how you figured it out so quick, as you unzip his pants and pull his hard dick from his boxers, all that comes out is a choked moan.

“are you ready?” you whisper with a smirk.

mingi rapidly nods his head, hands gripping the sides of his chair tightly as you part your lips to take him in and-

and nothing, he woke up from his dream. he had a raging hard-on and your bodies were pressed together, too close, your ass pressed right against him. one arm was trapped under you and his arm that was slung over your waist hand gripped onto your hip to be sure you didn’t move an inch as he willed for it to go down before you woke up, with no success.

he thankfully had a chance to escape when you rolled to the other side of the bed, snuggling into a pillow. he practically leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom where he sat on the cool floor with a hand pressed against his straining boner like a loser.

he knows he could just ask, tell you about the thoughts he’s been having, but that’s too embarrassing. he doesn’t want to seem too pathetic or sex-crazed after getting just a taste not even a week ago. he once tried to satisfy himself, wrapping his own hand around his aching dick, but it just wasn’t the same as when you did it. nor did it relieve him of his recent fantasy.

even now, sitting on couch later that day, he’s hard. you were simply sat next to him, watching the tv and torturously sucking on a lollipop and it was driving him crazy. the short-shorts you had on that were riding up your smooth thighs, the tight tank-top that hung low enough to reveal the curve of your breasts and rising up just enough for a sliver of your tummy to show.

he can’t stop the blush that blooms on his face as he shifts his hips uncomfortably, dick throbbing in his shorts. he looks away and starts to contemplate if he maybe he should just muster up the courage to ask for what he wants instead of screwing himself over...

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it doesn’t go unnoticed to you how mingi has been fidgeting for the past fifteen minutes, it’s making you nervous. this whole week he’s been acting a bit strange, and you’ve been meaning to ask him about it, but it would slip your mind before you had the chance.

you turn your head to glance at him and he’s staring ahead, deep in thought. his face was pink, eyebrows furrowed, and he was worrying his bottom lip.

“mingi, you okay?” you decide to finally ask, popping the candy from your mouth and moving closer to him. you place a hand on his thigh, slowly dragging your hand up and down the expanse of it, only to comfort him. mingi has to cough to hide the tiny moan that he almost let out, his spine tingling.

“i-i’m fine.” he stammers, rapidly nodding his head and still not looking at you as his dick twitches. god, the way you get closer to touching where he wants it most is making him dizzy, swells of heat wracking his body and his pulse quickening.

“are you sure, you don’t look too good,” you question, your other hand moving to run your fingers through his hair and placing it on his forehead. mingi’s eyes flutter and he has to bite down on his lip to stop himself from whimpering. “and you’ve been acting weird all week.”

you stick the piece of candy back in your mouth so you could use your other hand to press against his neck, making sure he didn’t have a fever. he felt warm, but not sick warm. as you practically feel him up, mingi looks over at you, eyes honing in on the lollipop and the way it was twirling in your mouth.

mingi doesn’t say anything for a second. his mind racing until he gets just the smallest bit of courage to do something he never thought he would have. with eyes squeezed shut, he says, “i-i’ve been wanting to try s-something.”

“oh? trying something like,” you query, voice slightly muffled with the lollipop still in your mouth. you weren’t expecting him to say that. you were more expecting him to admit to being ill. you drop your hands from him so you can listen to him.

“like something sexual,” he whispers, wide eyes opening to make eye contact. he searches your face to see if he can find something repulsive or disgusted in them.

you could only stay silent in shock. he’s never been so upfront with you regarding anything sexual. even after the handjob, to you, he seemed like the same old mingi. he was still too shy to talk about sex and got nervous when making out.

he must have mistaken your silence for disturbance as his confidence falters. he gets embarrassed, almost ashamed at himself for being so risque. mingi knows his face is on fire and with all courage gone, he goes to stand up and run away, likely to the bathroom like he has been all week.

“i’m sorry… i-” he apologizes before being cut off as you catch his hand before he could stand and pull him back down to the couch with a huff.

“wait,” you start, shutting your eyes and inhaling before speaking again. “i’m not upset or anything, i was just... a little taken aback.”

mingi stays silent, so you take that as being able to continue, “i want to know what you’ve been thinking about trying.”

“i…” mingi begins, eyes finding that cursed lollipop again, flickering between looking at your lips and at his hands in his lap. he’s nervous now that he has to actually voice his thoughts. out loud.

“mhm,” you encourage him with a hum.

he clears his throat before he gestures at the lollipop, “i’ve been thinking about that…”

you quirk an eyebrow, confused about what he meant. you take the candy out of your mouth and point it at mingi, offering him a lick. “you want to taste the lollipop, that’s it?” that wasn’t necessarily sexual, but maybe to mingi who hasn’t tried anything, it is. and you won’t knock anything he wants to try.

“no, i-” he huffs, embarrassed that he has to actually say it. “what you’re doing to the lollipop, bu-but instead of the lollipop, it’s me you do that to.” he mumbles.

“oh, a blowjob?” you ask with a giggle as mingi flusters, his face getting darker if that was even possible and his hands coming up to cover his blush. when he does, you get a glimpse of his crotch and find out that he’s been hard throughout this whole conversation. “is…that not it?”

he nods behind his hands.

“is that why you’ve been running away from me all week?”

he nods again.

you finish your lollipop, disposing of the stick on the table in front of you, before turning back to mingi. you grab his hands, pulling them from his face and look him in the eyes. “you don’t have to be embarrassed about it,”

“i know,” he whispers with a pout, looking away. he looks so cute, so pure, it takes everything in you not to jump his skin right then and there. you didn’t want to scare him off, besides this is the first time he’s come to you with his sexual desires.

“so, a blowjob…” you drawl, making mingi groan. “did you want to try that right now, or?” you caress mingi’s hands gently.

“i would like that, if you don’t mind of course…” he breathily says, feeling his dick throb and he shivers.

“of course not. i wouldn’t have asked if i did,” mingi shrugs, looking at you once again.

his eyes drop to your lips and sucks his bottom one into his mouth. hesitantly, he leans in to kiss you, stopping right before your lips could touch, peeking at you, with his pretty eyes as if to ask, “is this okay?”

you take the initiative and capture his lips in a kiss. placing a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him in, mingi moaning as your mouths connect. you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, gliding your tongue against mingi’s plump lip, asking for an invite to slip it into his mouth. you hungrily slide your tongue against his when mingi obliges with a whine, his hand resting on your hip gently.

you tasted like the peach dum-dum you were eating and he couldn’t get enough. he hungrily licks into your mouth, savoring the taste. he pushes forward, barely allowing a chance for either of you to catch a breath.

“easy, you still have to breathe,” you gently scold, when you part from him. mingi blindly chasing after your lips and whining. “besides, this isn’t all that you wanted right?”

with a smirk, you slid off the couch to sit in front of mingi, nudging his legs apart so you’re able to nest between them on the floor. mingi looks down at you, eyes widening when you look up at him, lewdly reminding him of the dream he had last night.

“are you ready?”

and just like in his dream, he nods his head rapidly and his hands were gripping the couch under him, fingers clenching and unclenching the soft cushion.

mingi’s thighs are exposed, his shorts pushed up and you bring your hands up to knead at the flesh as you lean down. you nose at his bulge, pressing kisses over the fabric of his shorts, right over his throbbing dick. mingi’s eyes flutter, head tilting to the side as he lets out a shaky breath.

you draw back and tap mingi on the thigh, fingers dancing along the waistband of his shorts. he raises his hips and allows you to pull his shorts and underwear off.

and you waste no time wrapping your lips around him, taking in as much of him as you can. it takes mingi by surprise, he jumps back and his hands move like they were going to grip your hair, but they freeze as he was hesitant to do so. he wasn’t sure if that was allowed.

you pull back, only making it halfway down his length, peppering kisses along it. “it’s okay, you can put them there if you want.” you reassure him before dipping back down. you make sure to breathe through your nose as you swallow him up, using a hand to run up his thighs and under his sweatshirt to caress his tense stomach.

“mmph,” mingi moans, trying to relax and open his eyes that have unknowingly closed. he wants to watch you, watch how your lips stretch around him like they did when you were eating that banana. but his efforts are in vain, squeezing them tight as your tongue pokes at the slit at the tip of his dick.

you let your mouth trail along him, using a hand to stroke the base of his dick that you couldn’t reach quite yet without gagging. you lick along the vein on the underside, pouting your lips and sucking at the skin.

“t-too much, too much,” mingi breaths, eyes cracking open to look at you. only to be met with your mischievous gaze, eyes sparkling at him and making him whine.

you take the head of his dick into your mouth and lets his length slide down your throat, humming around it. the vibration earns a staccato moan from mingi, his head flying back and grip on your strands of hair tight, but you don’t mind.

the wet suction sounds and muffled moans from you felt loud in the otherwise quiet room. you were getting accustomed to mingi and what makes him tick, makes his breath hitch and gasp, what makes him tense under your hands.

when mingi gets a look at you, it’s downright sinful. you either had your eyes closed, enjoying the feel of mingi in your mouth, or looking up at him, with flushed cheeks and shining eyes, watching his every reaction. and mingi couldn’t deal with either or those sights.

“fuck,” he groans, feeling that familiar knot tighten in his gut.

your eyes flicker up and you draw back, leaving his dick with a wet pop and string of saliva that mingi wanted to lick up.

your voice is raspy when you speak, and it turns mingi on even more. “how’s that?”

“g-good, it’s good,”

you hum, twirling your tongue around the tip of his dick, causing mingi to fist both his hands into your hair as he bucks up into your mouth and makes you gag. you pull back with a cough.

“i-i’m sorry,” mingi flushes, ready to shower you in apologies.

you ignore him, taking a breath before sucking him back down, causing the knot in mingi’s tummy to tighten further, thighs trembling at how close he was getting.

“that’s so good,” he praises, and making you happily moan around him.

you push yourself, swallowing mingi whole, deepthroating him. mingi groans loudly, his hips thrusting up before he can stop himself, gasping as your throat tightens around his dick. the squelching of saliva driving him mad, his body heating up and starting to sweat.

you peek up to look at him and your eyes meet for a second, right as you trail your hand up from his stomach to his nipples to brush them, wrenching a high-pitched moan out of mingi. you stare at him with your eyes half-lidded and your spit-slicken, pink lips wrapped around his dick, so pretty.

“i- think ’m gonna cum,” he announces, not being able to handle the intensity in your eyes - they’re too focused, too lustful, almost hungry as you devoured him.

you pull back briefly, “good boy,” you coo with a kiss to his head before sliding all the way back down. and that was enough for mingi.

“ah shit, shit-” he curses, voice cracking. his eyes are shut, one hand slipped through your hair and the other coming up over his mouth to muffle his sounds, his orgasm coming fast.

when the cum hits the back of your throat, you contentedly moan, rope after rope getting swallowed as he cums, moaning behind his hand loudly.

you pull back once he gets too sensitive, lapping up any cum remaining and mingi groans, turning away before he gets hard again.

“i can’t believe you swallowed… that.” he murmurs, flushing down to his neck, chest heaving as he comes down from his high.

you smack your lips, “it was pretty tasty,” you tease. and mingi would never admit that his limp dick twitched a little at that.

you come up, face-to-face with mingi, grabbing his chin and turning him towards you. you lean in, eyes flickering to look at his mouth, “you want to try some?” you whisper. pressing on his bottom lip.

©lucidwntrr est. 2025

[latteodyssey]

‘cause my baby's sweet as can be | being damian wayne’s love interest headcannons˚｡⋆ ୨୧

masterlist

craving your company. — he didn’t like admitting it to himself at first, that as much as he would make snarky comments about how annoying it was that you wouldn’t leave him alone, he started missing you deeply when you weren’t around. his head was gradually consumed by thoughts about how much you would have to talk about the topic of conversation that someone just mentioned, or how you would have made a comment about the scene from the movie he was currently watching.

deny, deny, deny. — he’s a stubborn man, it took days of spiraling and coming up with theories as to why he felt that way, before he finally came to terms with the fact that he’s into you. It had nothing to do with who you are as a person, but it had everything to do with him refusing to accept being vulnerable, accepting that he had no control over how he felt. And god knows how much he hated when things were out of his control.

the way you had such a deep effect on him without even knowing made him terrified to say the least.

doesn’t know how to act— he didn’t approach you right away after realizing the nature of his feelings for you, instead, you would often catch him staring at you, eyebrows furrowed. he would worry so much about his next move, his next line, that he wouldn’t even notice the face of extreme concentration he was making – which you would often mistake for annoyance.

“are you mad at me?” you asked, a mixture of concern and confusion filling your voice as you try to make sense out of the situation “you’re looking at me like you are”.

“i assure you I’m not” he answered in a matter of fact way, which did nothing to calm your nerves. little did you know, he was trying to control his own “you can continue on with your story”.

he’s terrible at giving compliments — instead, he makes observations, about the little things he notices about you, about the moments where he missed your presence – but he tells you in a way that you can’t tell if he’s being nice or sending a corporate email. "y/n. you’ve changed your hair.", “you weren’t at patrol/school today”.

makes excuses to hang out with you — damian always looks forward to spending time by your side, even if it’s just accompanying you while you do mundane things. suddenly it’s “I have nothing better to do” or “i don’t trust you to successfully achieve this alone, so I’ll come with you”.

practicing it in his head — he can’t just say how he feels, it needs to be done in the most perfect and efficient way possible. he spent days planning the way he would confess how he feels about you, where he would do it, exactly how he would say it, and how he would react to any possible outcome. he ends up doing it in the middle of an argument, unplanned.

“you’re so annoying, i don’t even know why I’m in love with you!”

a creature of habit — damian eventually got used, and attached to, the routine aspects of your relationship, it gave him a sense of stability deeply cherishes . the way you always kissed his cheek when you would part ways, the way you reach for his hand when walking, the fact that you call him just to say goodnight. and he misses these little things in case you end up forgetting.

you'll be drifting off to sleep when you hear your phone ringing, the blue light illuminating your face as damian's contact pops up on the screen. you pick up the call, there's a quick moment of silence before you hear his voice, heavy with sleepiness. "you didn't wish me goodnight."

“you called me just for that?”

“You don’t desire for me to have a good night?”

old fashioned terms of endearment — beloved, darling, and dear are his go-to nicknames for you. When talking to other people, he might refer to you as “my y/n” often.

using you as a human pillow — similarly to a cat, he approaches you silently, almost like he's expecting you to read his mind, resting his head against your shoulder, or laying it your lap. he's especially happy when you gently run your fingers through his hair. he feels almost addicted to your touch, the warmth of your hand against his skin.

[autumnslance]

As someone who's played various subscription-based MMOs over 20 years, mostly WoW and FFXIV? Yeah, you need to take breaks from the game occasionally. It does let you avoid burnout of the one thing you've been playing continually non-stop. Because no one can really do that indefinitely.

What Yoshida means by "play other games" between the patches is, you can still play FFXIV, by all means; my FC does weekly stuff together, from current content people are going slow through, to older content folks want to catch up on or certain rewards from. It's mostly social time; right now we're hitting up the last stage of the 8man for any weapon tokens folks want for alt jobs, and then doing maps or farming in Crescent. We hang out in voice chat and goof around. But the rest of the week? If I don't want to log in so I can read, or watch a movie, or play something else?

There's no pressure. I did what I needed to for this patch, I log in to hit up some weekly stuff, maybe do some alt leveling, and socialize with my FC. The rest of the time is mine.

The times I burnt out and took months-long breaks from WoW? Were the times I was pushing hard on content in some of the favorite expacs, like Wrath of the Lich King. I ended up spending several months just playing something else entirely cuz I'd wrecked my sense of fun in the game while pushing Icecrown.

It also recalibrates some things about how the game plays compared to others. If you never touch something else, or only occasionally, your sense of good and bad gameplay can become a little warped. Feedback is also more valuable when you have an idea what else is going on out there.

And, eventually, it is OK to just be done with a game and walk away for a time, or even not go back. I fell out of WoW during Legion - again, an expac I liked, with a lot of decent story and plenty of gameplay to do - because I was simply done after 13+ years. It happens. And sunk cost fallacy making you stay in a game you're not enjoying and won't further enjoy doesn't do anything good for anyone; not bitter feedback to the devs, not fellow players dealing with your negativity, not forcing yourself to do something you don't enjoy.

But also, never say never. So far I've had no desire to go back to WoW. However a lot of other people who bailed out years ago have poked their heads back in with the change in leadership and the fun folks are having in the last 2 expansions. Subscription games swing around, what one doesn't enjoy others do, stories and gameplay change and shift each patch or each expansion. That longevity and constantly shifting audience insulates the bigger games from complete ruin during sub dips.

It is, actually, a healthy model. Because it does prevent total burnout from the game. Subs resurge when a new patch drops. When a new expac comes around. And that's not counting the folks who just pay for the year to stay subbed but still go and do other things for a little while in between, maybe popping on now and then. People finished what they wanted to do, took their break, and now have returned.

And for those who didn't take a break, the doled out content over the course of the patch's life means there are still things to do over time, especially if not inhaling it the instant it drops for various reasons (I'm too old and otherwise busy to spend so much time grinding anymore so do it in smaller chunks over more time).

Having set ways to keep people caught up in gear and not feel like you've missed out on things forever if you didn't play when the content was brand new helps a lot, too, and is something WoW took too long to realize, honestly.

I do wish FFXIV would do something like the WoW tokens, though, as those help a lot with those who want to play but can't afford it, or let their subs lapse temporarily, but convincing SE execs to make that happen isn't terribly likely.

Yoshida will come out on stage and say they are specifically designing the game to encourage people to take breaks and play other stuff in between content cycles, only for the player base to try hard every piece of content in 48 hours and then start screaming that the game is dead because fewer people are playing it a month after the last content update.

[hedgehogoftime]

Alright, so, I was watching K-Pop Demon Hunters (again), and I had some thoughts about Bobby that evolved into Fanfiction so here we go.

-

Bobby's good at playing a role.

He's got a background in acting, strictly small time you never heard of him, but he's good at it. Like, really good.

He grew up poor, and as a kid he ran some scams to keep the money flowing in and keep his head above water. He didn't have any family worth writing home about, he was on his own more often than not. So, he got good at playing roles, running cons, and managing people around the neighborhood.

Despite his talent, acting was a wash-out. He had the skills but not the look. He was never the most handsome guy, and he didn't have any connections in the industry, so rather than playing bit parts for the rest of his life and hoping to roll a lucky seven one day he went from on-camera to behind it. Pushing papers, booking gigs, all that good stuff.

And, sometimes, getting his hands dirty.

Show-biz in Korea is cut-throat. Merciless. Bobby survived it mostly by using those old con-running skills of his, a doofy grin and a pleasant demeanor while he strove to stay afloat. He made some headway, ran a few groups, but he never hit it big time.

And then, one day, a group that screams Slam Dunk falls into his lap.

Celine, the last living member of the Sunshine Girls, calls him, and says she wants him to manage her adopted daughter's new idol group, Huntr/x. And these girls have it all. They've got the voice, they've got the looks, they've got the attitude, and they've got the connections. And, best of all, he barely has to do anything. The girls write their own songs, do their own choeography, even arrange their own special effects. It's insane.

It's too good to be true.

So he slaps that Doofy Grin on his face, and he watches. Waits, and slowly the pieces start to fall together.

At first the idea of demons is absurd. He all but rejects it outright. But reality creeps up on him bit by bit, and it's insane. These girls are superheroes in disguise. Rising Stars and Secret Heroines. It's unbelieveable.

And... they never tell him.

It's not hard to understand. Maybe they think he won't believe them. Maybe they think he really is that silly and friendly guy that books their gigs and keeps them happy.

But, the truth is much simpler.

They're trying to protect him.

Bobby's seen all types in this business. And they're almost all scumbags. Selfish, greedy, outright psychotic, and the endless myriad of the victims chewed up and spit out by this industry. but the girls, Rumi, Mira, and Zoey, they care.

They really are that kind. That gentle. That loving.

And through it all, he starts to love them right back.

Bobby never really had a family. Not one worth writing home about. But these girls... well, he always wondered what it felt like. Connection. Companionship.

Family.

And now he knows.

So Bobby plays his role.

Tot he girls, he's their fun, kinda doofy manager who makes sure they can do what they do without a hitch. A fun uncle or older brother they can count on.

But to the industry? To the jackals who'd love to chew them up and spit them out?

Well, you don't survive in this business as long as Bobby has without getting your hands dirty.

Bobby handles thing. He shreds the predatory business contracts that get faxed to his office. The other guys in this business who looks at these girls, barely more than children, with the looks of hungry wolves he gets far away from them. In rougher cases he throws a few stacks the way of some of his childhood friends who grew up to be professional ass-kickers of some variety to straighten 'em out.

And sometimes...

When a backwards bigot tries to throw a bomb at Zoey for the crime of being half-white. When some freak obsessed with Rumi tries to get access to her for reasons Bobby doesn't want to think about. When a maddened fan tries to get at Mira with a knife.

...Bobby handles it.

The girls hunt demons. And he's so proud of them for that.

But Bobby?

Bobby deals with the monsters.

[after-witch]

“I've been swirling around with a fic idea that involves a Baby Saja stan finding out things the hard way.”

i am rattling the bars of my enclosure 👁️👁️ give us crumbs queen 🤲

I don't actually have real crumbs just fic ideas but y'know what here's a lil thing on the fly, just a quick scene from one of the fic ideas, before I go flop in bed

note for this wip snippet: foreign reader, yandere baby saja, abusive relationship

--

"I don't understand--"

His smile is sweet, cut with something too tangy for your liking; like a spritz of unwanted lemon in your drink. "You want a dictionary? What about...?"

He idly points to a cutesy English-to-Korean dictionary intended for little kids that he'd gifted you, all wrapped up and topped with a bow, the first time you complained about not understanding what he and the Saja Boys were talking about while you were in the room.

Complained about the way it seemed they--and he--talked around you, not at you; the way it felt like something was being said that you weren't meant to know.

And you'd felt stupid afterward, really. Ungrateful. Like an oaf of a tourist bitching about no one speaking English in another country, and not someone extremely lucky--someone he'd chosen, out of anyone in the world, to be his girlfriend.

Not that he called you anything as mean as ungrateful or stupid or an oaf, no, no. He'd only coo'd and immediately grabbed his phone to order you a dictionary, and didn't say anything about you being so... so... Rude. Ungrateful. Stupid--aren't you all those things? Isn't he good to you? Aren't you special?

Something curdles in your stomach at the thoughts, sour, tangy.

'"It's not that--it's--I don't mean literally." Your teeth find the inside of your cheek and clench, adding to the growing stress-lines inside your gums that have been forming over the past few months.

You don't know why you can't bring yourself to just say it. Baby's never been mean to you, has he?

"I don't understand... why you took my phone away"

He tilts his head, just a little. The smile he had earlier becomes a little pout. Fuck, he's cute. But--

He took your phone away. Literally. Like you were some little kid, some unruly teen that lost phone privileges after refusing to take the trash out or something.

"Your... phone?" He sounds the words out slowly.

Your fingers fold together, and your nails--a manicure he paid for, pastel pink, this week--find the grooves of your knuckles and begin to scratch. Each scratch matches the way your teeth gently gnaw on the inside of your mouth, slow, methodical.

Why is it so hard to bring it up?

"I mean... I need it to talk to people. Like, my friends. Or my mom. And I like to--to look things up on it. Videos. Or um, shopping."

It's your main connection to the outside world, now that a normal life wasn't possible without covering your face and hoping no one noticed who you were; now that he'd advised against going outside without him, or at least an escort.

His smile comes back now anyway, toothy, eager. "I'll buy you something! And we will watch videos on my phone." He pulls it out before you even have a chance to blink, finger already deftly scrolling for videos. "Hmmm. Puppies, fashion show... candy reviews..."

The sound that escapes your lips is something like a bubble that popped too early--a but that doesn't quite form as he takes hold of your sleeve, pulling you with him to the teal sofa that matches the color of his hair.

You see the videos but you're not actually watching them as he begins to binge watch them, keeping you pulled against him. The closeness is inviting, and despite it all, you can feel your heart begin to race, heat flush to your chest.

But--but--but.

"I just think..."

He doesn't stop scrolling.

"That maybe you're a bit... maybe taking my phone is a bit..."

His thumb hovers over the video, keeping it paused.

"Controlling?"

He sweeps his thumb, and switches to a new video. A Saja Boys single blasting over a choreographed number from a group of amateur dancers. He doesn't take his eyes off it, but you see the way his content smile goes a little slack, the way his voice loses that sweet fullness.

"You know why I took your phone, babe."

Your chest tightens.

He does look at you now, eyebrows lifting, almost concerned. The video repeats on his phone, the too-familiar lyrics scoring his words.

"Don't you?"

[kawaiigirly21]

Our Little Soda Pop: Chapter 10

The night of the show, Natasha held onto Romance as she tried to steady herself on the stairs leading to the stage. “Are you alright? We can turn back around and I can take you home.” He whispered with a concerned expression on his face. He already wasn't fond of doing an interview so suddenly and he definitely hated that Natasha had to come along. Especially when it looked like her nausea was coming back.

“I'm fine love… I'll just hold onto you for the night.” She smiled as they reached the stage and he helped her into her seat. The others watched closely to make sure she was comfortable before turning their attention to the interviewers. “So! Saja boys! Tell me, your recent album has reached the top of the charts! Right next to Huntrix! Please, tell us what inspired those songs?” As the night went on, the interview continued with normal questions and a few stories here and there.

Until the interviewers switched. And with how hard Natasha gripped his hand, Romance sensed there was a problem with him. “Hello Natasha! It's been a while right? You know, I really must thank you. Those bathhouse Polaroids really boosted my career.” Feeling rage boil in his veins, Mystery growled deeply. “You look pretty… for your age. Which is what? 60? What are you doing with these boys huh? Couldn't find a man who would ever love a whore like you?”

The former photographer smirked as Natasha had to yank Jinu back into his seat before he launched himself at the man. “Not here Jinu. Calm down.” She scolded lightly. “You give out orders too? How interesting. Tell me, rumors are going around that you're pregnant or just fat, which is it?” Natasha sighed. “I'm pregnant.” She replied tiredly. She was so over it. “And the father? Is it Abby? His actions the other day in your defense point to this theory. But I mean, how fucked up do you have to be to sleep with someone who's young enough to be your son?”

Before Natasha could answer, Abby responded first. “Listen here you piece of shit! You don't fucking talk to her like that. If you dare to make another comment like that, I'll get up from this seat and shove that microphone down your fucking throat.” The cheers from the audience watching supported the man in his anger. “Y-you can't threaten me on live TV!” The man stuttered. “Who says? We’ll beat your ass right here on this stage. Try us.” Baby smirked, leaning back in his chair while Romance cracked his knuckles.

“Give us a reason. Please do it.” He smirked. By the time the interview ended, it gave the Saja Fandom a brand new outlook on the group. The group weren't just some popular good looking boys who could sing. They were protective, thoughtful, loving and brave. They stood on business and spoke their minds. They didn't mince their words for those that angered them. Especially towards bullshit interviewers who hurt their mate in the past.

The fandom also adopted the theory of one of the boys being the father to Natasha's baby. “Ugh my everything is sore!” She whined now 7 months into her pregnancy and felt like a bowling ball was sitting right on her uterus. She wanted to call one of the boys but they were (reluctantly) out of town for a few days and she didn't want to bother them. Suddenly, she felt a comfortable weight on her tummy and a loud purring noise filled her ears.

Looking down at her stomach, her eyes widened to find a big blue derpy looking tiger staring right back at her with its head on her tummy. “Um… hi? Where'd you come from fur ball?” She smiled softly. Reaching down to pet its head. “Oh my gosh you're so soft.” She giggled then yawned. Laying back into her bed, the tiger got comfortable and continued to purr while laying its head on her pregnant tummy. The soreness Natasha was complaining about seemed to disappear completely in favor of complete and utter comfort.

Meanwhile, the boys had just gotten off of stage after doing an encore of one of their newest hits. “I could sleep for a week…” Abby yawned as he nearly fell on the floor instead of the couch in their dressing room. “I can't wait to go home and cuddle with Natasha. I miss her scent.” Mystery replied as he shrugged off his shirt and sweater vest to let his chest breathe. “Same. You think she's ok? I mean, I know she's alright but still.” Romance asked while he peeled off his sweat soaked silk shirt.

“I sent my tiger to her to watch over her while we're gone. So even if she doesn't really need help, she has back up.” Jinu responded looking in the mirror with an exhausted expression. “How many more shows to go boss man?” Baby asked. Looking at his schedule on his phone, Jinu groaned. “You're gonna hate me for this… 12.” A collective groan spread throughout the group after hearing his words. “Son of a bitch!”

Chapter 11

[mehwmidklpe]

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝔹𝕆𝕐𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻

You were laying on your bed, your head on your boyfriend's chest as you scrolled down on tiktok.

Now Walker, the boyfriend in question, was not paying attention at all cause he was too busy watching Deadpool.

Typical.

As you scrolled down, bored out of your mind, you came across another ‘current boyfriend’ video.

Now you never tried the trend out yourself because you weren't the type to post a lot of videos like your friend and costar Dior.

You almost never posted, and when you did you put it in archives like a week later.

That's something you and Walker had in common.

But right now you were just really bored so you decided to just do it.

So you quickly tapped on the plus button to start a video, put a random marvel ranking filter on and looked up to your boyfriend.

“Blondie.”

“Pretty.”

He acknowledged, still facing the tv that hung up on your wall.

“Wanna do a tiktok with me? I'm kinda bored.” The blonde directed his gaze toward you. “Sure.”

You smiled slightly. “Okay so we just have to rank the marvel characters that pop up.” You said, already showing your phone screen.

Walker smiled. “Sounds kinda fun. I'm in.” With that and a smile, you finally pressed play.

“Hey, this is Y/n–God this is weird.” You started, cringing from talking like this to your camera infront of your boyfriend.

He smiled and shook his head. “No no, keep going, introduce us.” The boy insisted.

You cleared your throat. “So, I'm Y/n, which you might already know cause.. this is my page.. and this is my current boyfriend Walker. We're about to rank these Marvel characters from 1 to 10 and see what else happens.”

Walker just nodded along, completely clueless of what you'd just called him.

“Right, so, is 10 best? Like 10 out of 10?” He asked, probably inexperienced with these kind of things.

You shook your head no. “No, 10 is worst, 1 is best.” You explained.

“Oh okay, can I go first?” He asked. “Sure.” You allowed him to take your phone and tap the screen.

It stopped on Scott Lang, Ant Man.

Walker hummed, thinking. “Mhmm, he's funny.” “He is. But don't be too fast, if you put him too high and a better character comes up you can't change it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I can't??” “Nope.” “Oh dam. I'll put him on six then..” And he did.

He handed you your phone back, and you smiled.

You tapped, Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow.

You grinned. “Solid 2.” “I'd say 1 cause you played her younger version.” Walker smirked.

"Shut up Schoolbell.” But despite that you were blushing, unfortunately.

“I have a stupid current boyfriend, guys.” You announced to your phone, hoping Walker would notice now, but he didn't.

Of course he didn't.

He just smacked your head of his chest in a playful and non-harmful way before taking the phone from you.

You watched his smile grow as you settles back onto his chest. “Who is it.”

“Wanda.”

Your eyes widened. “No. You are not putting her on 1 just because you have a crush on her.” You refused.

“Why not?”

“Cause I'm your girlfriend.”

“And I'm your boyfriend.”

“I know you're my current boyfriend but that doesn't change anything.”

“It does because you're gonna put Peter on 1.”

You paused, bit your lip to hide a smile, failed at that.

“Touché..” You gave in.

Walker sighed. “Fine. I love Spider-Man too so I'll put Wanda on 4.”

You frowned. “Why not 3?”

“Because you wanna put T'Challa on 3.”

Oh he knew you so well.

Of course Black Panther was gonna be 3.

You smiled.

“I love youuu.”

“I love you too.”

“Best current boyfriend ever.”

Then, Walker suddenly sat up a bit.

You frowned. “What?”

“Current boyfriend?”

Oh and now he did notice?

So clueless.

Oblivious.

Now you see why he was casted as Percy Jackson.

“..Yes..?” You said slowly.

“What does that mean? As in–you're gonna have a different boyfriend in the future?”

Blink.

“What??” He said, a slight giggle leaving his lips, but it wasn't exactly a happy giggle.

“Well you are my current boyfriend, aren't you?” You point out.

He shrugged. “Yeah but you're making it sound like our relationship is just something un-meaningful for now, we'll be breaking up later on and you'll have someone else.”

You bit your lip to suppress a smile again. “Walker–” “We're not breaking up.”

“I didn't–” “I let you wear my Deadpool shirt, we have movie nights together!”

“I know but–” “I'm your permanent boyfriend. Not current. Permanent. Forever. Till death do us appart and even then we'll haunt each other.”

You laughed a bit at that. “Walker–” “Tell me I'm not your current boyfriend but your permanent boyfriend and we'll never break up.” The curly head pleaded.

A sigh left your lips. “Walker. It was just a trend, you are my permanent boyfriend.”

His smile grew again. “Well better. Don't prank me again. Who do you think you are? Connor Stoll?”

“Yes.”

He eyed you.You just hid your face into his chest.

But you felt your phone slipping away from your hands.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Ranking Peter Parker as 1, duhh.”

Oh how you love your permanent boyfriend.

I'll do a real lay out later I'm lazy rn

[fangsofdestruction]

Sesshomaru could relate to outliving those that you felt affection for, considering he had experienced that first hand when Kagura died, and when Rin's natural lifespan ran out, along with the original Jaken. He did leave descendants behind, but it wasn't quite the same.

"Did you move because you didn't wanna lose anyone else? Demons live a long time!" A little voice asks as her head pops out from atop of Sesshomaru's head. A child had decided to climb up his back and perch right on top of his head. Another child chimes in next, "Does it feel weird you hide your ears and tail?" They had illusion magic that they could cast to hide their features, so there was no discomfort for them, but some found it 'stuffy' (usually the ones with multiple limbs).

The Kumicho picks up the little kit from the top of his head and handed her off to Hebisuke, who understood the implicit request to lead the children away for a moment. Just in case any of the topics veered in a direction not meant for children.

        ❝Unintentional seducing, you say. Seduction and mischievousness are common traits one can find with the kitsune. Though, some are pious as shrine guardians.❞

The idea of shrine guardians made him recall the existence of miko, a profession he actually had some respect for, given the influences they had on Rin.

        ❝Has your identity ever been compromised to the humans? I come from a time where Demons freely roamed.❞

It certainly was a change of pace now, to be a Demon in hiding, so he was curious about how that change in culture changed her life.

「Thank you,」 Mukuro bowed her head slightly with a soft smile, she was quite proud of the fact that she had been living quite a successful life even with the type of upbringing she had, and to hear someone say something like that was quite nice。 Not many people knew about how she grew up, how it felt like she had nothing and managed to do just fine despite it all。

「Of course, I don't mind at all,」 after all she did say that she would answer whatever questions Sesshomaru had, 「I think a big difficulty was commonly out living people I tended to grow close to, I couldn't live in one spot very long because of it。 I quickly came to realize that no one else felt the same as me, if that makes sense, I knew they weren't hiding ears or tails like I had to。」

「I also wasn't treated too kindly from time to time, a lot of people accused me of seducing their partners。 A majority of the time it was unintentional of course, but regardless it was never a pleasant experience。」

[delopsia]

Ingredients: Miles Miller, food "Two sodas and a large fry!"

Your eyes scan across the empty diner. No, the sign still says closed. "Did the restaurant ghost place another order?"

A plate appears to your left, piled high with still-fizzling crinkle-cut fries. That's a lot bigger than any large fry you've ever seen.

"Everythin' we had left in the fryer," Miles hums, ghosting his hand over your lower back as he steps behind you. Always letting you know where he is. "It felt like a waste to...y'know, just throw it out."

Placing the last of the salt shakers back into their designated space on the counter, you turn to get a proper look at what he's brought you. "Were the sodas also from the fryer?"

"No..." those guilty eyes dart away, shrugging meekly, "but we deserve a drink after that late rush, right?"

There's no point in rationalizing it now; he's long since popped the caps off. You reach for the one closest to you, and he takes the other, holding it out to clink the glass against yours. A lackluster cheers, celebrating another overworked, underpaid day.

"What do we have left to clean?" Miles asks, and you don't have to look to know that he's spinning the bottles of ketchup until their logos perfectly present to the empty diner. Every night, like clockwork.

"I think I've gotten everything," you pause, biting into a fry. Hot! Hot! Hot! "I'm sure that morning shift will find something and remind me of it for the next week, though."

The front door shakes.

You duck beneath the counter before you've even seen who it is. Miles is right behind you, his wide eyes meeting yours, searching for an explanation that you were hoping he would have.

"Hello?" A woman's voice calls out. She pushes on the door again, the weak hinges threatening to break open and let her in at any moment. "Google says that you're still open for another hour!"

Well, clearly, the closed sign and lack of lights would indicate that you're not!

"Will corporate ever fix that?" Miles groans.

"Not unless it costs them money," and that's wishful thinking, for this restaurant.

The door rattles again, keys chiming. "I know someone is in there!" Another rattle. Rougher now. "I saw you in the window!"

And as if she didn't just say that, Miles reaches up to the counter, stealing a fry from the steaming plate. But it's not for him, no, he's handing it out to you.

Well, if he insists. You open your mouth, lazily taking it from him without using your hands. In return, you reach up as well, plucking an obscenely long fry from the batch. Mirroring him, you hold it out for him to bite into.

Again, he gets you a fry.

And again, you get him a fry.

"Is this a game now?" He whispers, his smile big enough for you to see in the dim lighting. "Cause if it is, you're not winning."

You tilt your head. "Oh?"

His mouth opens. You shove a fry into it.

"You—!"

He's grabbing for a handful, and you're reaching over him for an even bigger one. But your 'fries' are just his squirming hand, caught in each other's traps. He's stronger, yanking you down first, and right into his lap you go.

Knees slam into the hard tile. Dull pain gnaws at your senses. Miles is already kissing it better, lips meeting yours as easily as breathing. The tension melts from your shoulders within a matter of seconds.

God, you should have pulled him aside during that five minute slow down. You needed this.

And by the feel of it, so did he, gentle arms drawing you closer, hands sliding beneath your wrinkled shirt. He smells like coffee and a smorgasbord of fried foods, but his mouth tastes like the cherry pie that suspiciously went missing after dinner rush.

The need for air drives you away. Foreheads thump against each other, labored breath intermixing.

"Think the coast is clear?" You pant, not quite sure which answer you'd prefer.

"No," Miles shakes his head, that devilish little glint in his eye. "We'd better stay down here 'til we're sure they're gone."

Those cold sodas sure are going to come in handy later.

[janeway-lover]

The first time a summoner trapped her, it was about a century into her reign. She had a bit of a routine for summoning at that point, usually involving the candles used in the ritual, but this time was…different. There was a pull that didn't leave any room to improvise. Abby was forcibly summoned to a large empty room, and was rather pissed about it. 

“Who dares to summon me?” she hissed, her voice echoing against the walls. “Which mortal wishes to incur my wrath?” 

“So the rumors are true.” Her gaze focused on a man, standing at the edge of the room, book in hand. He's dressed like an academic, straight down to the sweater vest. “The throne of Hell has been taken by a new Devil.” 

“I am so much worse than the Devil,” she started to say, moving to step forward, but the circle stopped her. She looked down, confused; this hasn't happened before. “What is this?” 

“Blood magic, madam. I drew the circle in my own blood. So long as I am alive, you can not break the circle.” 

“Your little parlor trick won't protect you forever. All magic can fail when pushed hard enough.” She tried again, holding out her hand, but it's like an invisible wall. At least it didn't hurt. 

“That may be, but up until then, I shall proceed as planned.” There was a look in his eyes that she didn't like. It wasn't the way the men who summoned her normally looked at her; there was no lust in his gaze. Just a cold, calculating stare, like he's tallying something in his head. 

“And what is your plan, exactly?” 

“Oh, my dear,” he said with a small laugh, "that would ruin the surprise.” He didn't stay to entertain her questions. Instead, he turned and walked through an unmarked door, the click of the lock audible behind him. 

“Damn mortal. I'm going to kill him.” She tried, again, to break through the circle, but to no avail. Throwing herself against the barrier did nothing except make her shoulder sore. There was a knife on her hip, as there always was, but it did nothing either. And all her attempts at miracles failed. 

It was several hours later when the man returned. In that time, Abby had stopped trying to escape, and was now sitting on the floor, using the barrier as an improvised backrest. She noticed that, in addition to the book, he had a small ceramic bowl, faintly stained red. Filled with blood, then. 

“You've accepted your fate, then?” 

“I'm saving my strength,” she shot back, not bothering to get to her feet. “How did you manage this, anyway? You mentioned rumors.” 

“Survivors talk, your Majesty,” he said as he walked up to the edge of the circle. He set the bowl down and sat down, getting down to her level. “There are many stories of you, whispered in bars and tucked away online. The woman with flaming hair, summoned in place of the Devil. The King of Hell with purple eyes.” He pulled a paintbrush out of his pocket, dipping it in the blood. “I study the Devil, you know. When I heard such rumors, I had to see for myself.” 

“Well, now you've seen. Let me go.” Her eyes flashed, but he made no move. 

“Did you miss the part where I said I'm a researcher? Why would I pass this opportunity up?”

“Because it will end in your death.” 

“We'll see about that,” was all he said. As he started to paint new symbols on the circle, he went silent, focusing on his work. 

“My demons are loyal. They will notice I have gone missing.” 

“Perhaps. But the circle blocks you from your magic. You can not call for them. They will not find you.” He moved around the circle, painting the new symbol as he went. 

“I will not give you what you want.” 

He looked up at her, brush poised to paint the last of the new symbols. “Oh, I think you will. I've been studying you, like I said.” With a few strokes of the brush, the last symbol had been added. The circle glowed briefly, before reverting back to a dull red. Abby’s wings popped out of their own accord, bumping into the invisible walls holding her in. She scrambled to her feet in an attempt to wrangle her wings back under control, but to no avail. “Oh, good, it worked.” 

She hissed at him, a low guttural sound that should have made him tremble in fear. “You seem to have forgotten, I can’t cross the circle. If you want my feathers, you’ll have to step inside. And I will tear your head from your shoulders.” 

“I suspected as much. But don’t worry.” He walked back over to the door. “I have a plan for that, too. Penny?” The door opened, and a girl walked into the room, clearly terrified even before spotting Abby. “Penny, darling, I’d like you to meet the King of Hell.” He steered her closer to the circle. “You have a very important job to do. You see her feathers?” The girl nodded. “I need you to go get a few for me.” 

“Y-yes, father.” Slowly, she walked up to the edge of the circle, but didn’t quite cross it. Her eyes kept jumping to the claws that Abby had grown. 

“Go on, she won’t hurt you.” 

“You don’t have to do this,” Abby said, tucking her wings as close to her back as she could. Tears were already pouring down the girl’s face as she crossed over the line. “There is always another option.” 

“I can’t.” The poor girl was shaking, and it broke her heart. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright. It’s not your fault.” She held out a hand, her claws already receding back to nails. Penny reached out as well, clinging to her desperately. “I know you don’t have a choice. But he can’t hurt you in here. He wouldn’t dare cross the line.” 

“She can’t stay in the circle forever,” he called out, looking up from writing notes in the book. “You have no magic, you can not sustain her.” 

“And you can not get away with this,” she countered. He just raised an eyebrow in response. 

“Chop chop, Penny. We haven’t got all day.” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, still clinging to Abby’s hand. 

“I know.” Careful to not hit the girl, she spread one of her wings as far as she could in the enclosed space. “Here. The feathers in the center, you can take those. They’ll molt soon, anyway.” She knew the girl was trying to be gentle, but plucking feathers that weren’t ready was never painless. Five feathers later, he cleared his throat. 

“That’s enough, Penny. Come on out, now.” Penny turned, trembling, but Abby stopped her. 

“Wait.” She pressed a kiss to the top of her head, which shimmered for a moment. “He will never hurt you again. Go, now.” 

“Interesting. The circle doesn’t block your protection spell.” He hastily scribbled some notes in his book. “What source do you draw the power for it from? I am sure one of my sigils can block it.” 

“Your little book can not stop my desire to protect the vulnerable.” Despite everything, she stood tall, staring him down. He seemed not to care, accepting the feathers from his daughter and dismissing her without a care. “You were marked for Hell long ago. This has only cemented that. There is a stain on your soul, one that my demons will notice.” 

“Your demons who are not here to rescue you? I thought you said they were loyal.” The refusal to make eye contact was what pissed her off the most. He didn’t even look at her when he spoke, as if she were nothing more than a dissected frog he was discussing. “I must admit, your feathers are quite fascinating.” 

“They will bring you neither fame nor fortune, if that is what you are after. Trying to sell them will only curse you.” 

“Oh, I’m not going to sell them.” Now he looked at her, as if he couldn’t believe she could be so foolish. “As I’ve said before, I’m after knowledge.” He tucked the feathers into his pocket. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.” 

There were no windows in the room, no clocks, no way for her to count the time after he left. She tried keeping track of her heartbeat, but gave up after two hours. Eventually, she settled on just braiding and unbraiding her hair, over and over. She ignored him when he first returned, finishing the braid before bothering to look at him. 

“Well? What now?” 

“You seem to have given up remarkably fast. Has your spirit really broken already?” 

“I’m not broken, I’m bored,” she said with a huff. “I live and work in Hell, do you really think this is the worst thing I’ve ever dealt with?” 

“Hmm. I suppose I’ll just have to do better, then.” 

“What do you think the end outcome of this is going to be?” He began to set out an assortment of things as she spoke, but she paid him no attention. “You won’t escape me in death, you know. As I’ve said, you’re marked for Hell.” 

“What makes you so sure I’m going to die?” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you think I can’t reverse engineer immortality from your essence?” 

“Not before you’re killed.” 

“You keep insisting that someone will rescue you. And yet, you’re still here.” A spark flickered to life in his hand; a lighter. And poised in his other hand was one of her feathers. The flame jumped to life, consuming the feather. As it did so, he watched her, looking for a reaction. 

“Burning a feather is like burning hair. It’s not going to do anything to me.” 

“Fascinating.” He wrote a note in his book, still searching for any sign she was bluffing. “And what will holy water do to you?” 

“Nothing. I am not a demon.” His eyes widened at her words. 

“You are an angel, then? How intriguing. And yet you rule Hell.” 

“The throne accepted me. It did not care.” With a shrug, she continued. “Enough of this. Just tell me what you want. You mentioned immortality. Is that it?” He opened his mouth, but she spoke before he could. “And don’t give me any of that research crap. You’re researching with a goal in mind. What is it?” 

“You’re very close, your Majesty. Yes, it’s true. I am searching for the secret to eternal life. But that is not the only thing.” He didn’t even leer as he spoke. “I now have a truly powerful angel under my control. I can have anything I desire, as soon as I can find out how.” 

“If you think I’m under your control, then you’re fooling yourself. I am the King, I bow to no one.” 

“Ah, but even one weakness can bring you to your knees. I just have to learn what.” 

He spent two days testing her feathers. Each time he ran out, he’d call down his daughter, send her into the circle, and tell her to pluck more. Nothing he did to the feathers affected Abby, but grinding them down did make a paste that healed minor injuries. Her wings were beginning to feel a little threadbare when he switched focuses. 

“Tell me, your Majesty, do you bleed?” There was a glimmer of mania in his eyes, one she knew was brought on by extended exposure to divinity. And yet, something about it was restrained. It was as if his fervor for knowledge was holding him in check. She decided she hated it. 

“Nothing you have will make me do so.” But he knew about her knife, had seen her pull the blade out of its sheath. “And angelic blood burns mortals.” And she knew that he knew about it. 

“Penny shall just have to be careful not to spill, then.” 

“I will not hand over my blood to her, she is a child.” 

“That is exactly why you will do such a thing,” he said, not even looking up from his notes. “The rumors laud you as a protector of children. One even says you played peek-a-boo.” The condescending look he dared to give her made her growl. 

“Children are innocents. I do not hurt innocents.” Her form had shifted, claws once again extending, her wings turning sharper. But even that got no reaction from him, other than a note in the book. 

“I know you don’t. That’s why Penny has been so helpful. I know you won’t hurt her. And that’s why you’re going to give me a blood sample.” 

“You can not harm her any longer.” 

“I can not strike her any longer,” he corrected smoothly. He said it with such ease that her form shifted back to normal in confusion. “I suspected as much, of course, but I had to test my theory. Aggressive motions can not reach her. But there are things your magic can not stop.” 

“No.” But her orders held no weight here. 

“You will fill this bowl,” - and here he held up the bowl that had once held his own blood, but had been scrubbed clean to avoid cross-contamination - “with your blood. Until you do, Penny shall not eat. The choice is yours.” 

She wanted to rage, to throw herself against the magic of the circle until it broke, to rip him to shreds. But none of that would be of any use. So instead, she gritted her teeth and glared at him. 

“You can not use her as protection forever.” 

“Correct. But by then, you will not be able to kill me.” Once again, he called his daughter into the room and sent her into the circle, empty bowl in hand. He sent her away as soon as she had done so, and then just sat and watched. Abby rolled up her sleeve, pointedly avoiding looking at him. She pulled out her knife, its blade glinting wickedly in the artificial light. 

“If I cooperate, Penny will be safe. Swear on your life.” To emphasize her point, she holds the knife just over her arm, frozen, waiting. 

“I swear that Penny will face no retaliation so long as you cooperate.” 

“Good.” And she pulled the knife away from her arm, getting more of a reaction out of him than anything else had: confusion. As he stared at her, she plucked a flight feather from the end of her wing and began to use her knife to strip off the soft vane. When she had just the bare shaft, she started sharpening one end.

“What are you doing?” 

“Did you think I was just going to slice myself open? It's called improvising.” The combination of an angel feather and a Hell blade meant that the end got extremely sharp. Sure, it was larger than a needle, but she'd manage. 

The author would like to note that readers should not attempt to use their own feathers as a makeshift needle to draw their own blood. It took nearly an hour, involved a lot of swearing and yelling, and left her tired and out of breath. But she filled the bowl with her golden blood, setting it down on the ground in front of her. Still struggling to breathe, she ripped off the bottom hem of her dress, wrapping it around her arm to stop the flow of blood. 

“I’d like you to know this is going to be added to your Hell Loop,” she wheezed out. “Drawing your own blood with a fucking feather. We’ll see how much you like it.” 

“As I’ve told you before, your Majesty, I don’t plan on dying.” He once again called Penny into the room. The girl couldn’t take her eyes off of Abby, curled up on herself, bloody and ragged. 

“Don’t touch the gold,” Abby managed to say. “It’ll burn you.” Penny nodded, and very carefully picked up the bowl. 

“Why did you do it?” she whispered. “He can’t hurt you in here.” 

“But he can still hurt you. And I won’t let him do that.” She could see the thoughts racing in the young girl’s mind. 

“I could drop the bowl. So he can’t have your blood.” 

“He would just tell me to do it again.” She winced, pressing slightly on the fabric around her arm. “And he would punish you for it.” 

“You said it burns. I could throw it at him.” Abby couldn’t help but laugh. And then wince again. (Don’t stick feathers into your veins, kids.) 

“And what if he dodges? What if you miss?” It took a bit of effort to sit up properly, but she did so, looking the girl in the eyes. “Penny, I know you want to help. But it’s not worth putting yourself in danger.” She wanted to reach out, offer comfort, but there was too much blood still on her hands. “Go now. Take it carefully.” 

Twice, the bowl wobbled in her hands, but Penny took it to her father without spilling a drop. As soon as he had taken it, she turned on her heel and marched out of the room, not even waiting to be dismissed. He sighed. 

“You know how kids are. They get it in their minds that they know what’s going on.” He inspected the bowl, tilting it this way and that, “Fascinating. It can’t be copper based, not with that color. I can only begin to wonder what the molecular structure looks like.” 

“I’m going to have the demons study your molecular structure,” she said. But like all her other threats, he paid her no mind. Still mumbling to himself, he left the room, and Abby was alone again. 

It was five days before he or Penny returned to the room. Her arm healed by then, but she was still weak, now over a week without food or water, and still dealing with the blood loss. She slept on and off, but she always felt tired. Her wings drooped behind her constantly. In short, she was a mess. 

And when the door opened, and that blasted man walked in with a shimmering golden vial, she didn’t even have the energy to glare at him. 

“Ah, good. You’re awake.” Condescension was apparently enough to give her the energy to glower at him. “Come now, don’t look at me like that. I’m not here to take anything from you this time.” 

“What are you here for, then?” Her voice was weak, unused for several days. Her throat was dry, her lips were cracked. 

“I have something for you,” he said, holding out the vial. “It’s been synthesized from your blood, and it needs to be tested.” 

“And you’re not brave enough to test it on yourself?” she hissed. 

“I’m not foolish enough to test it on myself.” 

“Yet you’re foolish enough to kidnap and torture someone.” He scoffed, shaking his head at her words. “You were marked for Hell before this, but you may have gotten past it. There could’ve been a chance for growth. But you will never grow beyond this. This will be your eternal downfall. And you will feel what you have inflicted upon me tenfold.” 

“You and your pretty threats. But tell me, your Majesty, what leverage do you hold right now? You are trapped, you are weakened, and you are willing to do anything I ask all to protect a child who is helping me.” She threw herself against the magic circle, growling, but he just raised an eyebrow. “But, of course, you have a choice. Either you can drink it, or Penny will.” 

“You can not force her to drink it. My blessing will stop you.” 

“Perhaps. But children are so easily swayed.” He held up the vial, inspecting it. “And, of course, I can always slip it into her food.” 

“She is a child!” 

“And?” Once again, she threw herself against the walls of the circle, shouting at him. “The choice is yours.” 

She stood as tall as she could, despite how awful she felt. “Give me the damn vial.” He nodded. 

“A wise decision. Penny!” The girl came in, head down, refusing to look at her father. She took the vial with trembling hands but didn’t move. “We do not have time for this bleeding heart routine of yours. Go give her the vial, now.” Penny looked up, not at her father but at Abby, and then back down at the vial. “If she doesn’t drink it, then you have to. And don’t even think about breaking that vial. I have more in my study.” She could see the gears turning in the child’s head. 

“Penny, don’t. Just bring it to me.” 

“But…you’re already hurt.” 

“I’m a grown up, honey, I can handle it.” Her voice was shaking, but she managed to stay calm. “You don’t have to try and protect me, it’s alright. Just bring it here, it’s okay.” Slowly, Penny walked to the circle as Abby coaxed her forward. 

“It’s not right,” she said as she handed the vial over. 

“I know, I know. But it’s not your fault. Your job is to keep yourself safe, do you understand?” The girl nodded, and Abby pulled her into a hug. “You’re so brave. Do you know that?” Penny shook her head. “Well, it’s true. And I just need you to keep being brave, and keep staying safe, okay? Can you do that for me, Penny?” 

“Y-yes.” She was crying, but gentle hands wiped the tears off her cheeks. 

“Good. Go on, now. I’ll be alright.” 

“You keep promises you can not keep.” Abby glared at him. He hadn’t even had the decency to wait for Penny to leave. 

“Children deserve to be comforted. It is the least we can do for them.” 

“Hmm. You may think that, I suppose.” He had a clipboard, prepared to take notes. “If you would take the vial, please.” There was no smell to the liquid when she uncorked it. She had to admit, the idea of simply dumping it out had occurred to her, but the knowledge that he had more stopped her. 

There was no fanfare as she tilted the vial back and swallowed its contents. No glowing lights, no magic blast. In fact, there was no reaction at all. 

“Eugh. That’s disgusting.” Penny, who had not left, scrunched her nose in sympathy.

“Interesting.” He had already begun scribbling down notes, checking his watch every so often for time stamps. 

Five minutes in, the pain started. At first, it was nothing more than cramping. Then it started to spread. A burning sensation in her limbs, a stabbing sensation in her gut. Blinding pain behind her eyes that made her cringe. Her wings felt like they were being ripped off. She tried to stay on her feet, but the pain sent her to her knees. It felt like she was dying. 

“Father! Help me!” Her hands were reaching out, but not out of the circle. She was reaching up. “Father!” Her skin was glowing, faint cracks up and down her arms that were bright with divinity. 

“Your reaction is fascinating.” He sketched out a rough pattern of her arms. “An angel, bound to Hell and yet calling for God?” 

“I am not - calling for God,” she managed to say. She put her hands down, trying to brace herself up, but her arms gave out and she fell to the floor. Penny tried to go to her, to help her up, but he reached out and stopped her. “You are going to die.” Her eyes had turned red, and there were echoes of flames in her gaze. He paid no mind to her words. 

The door opened. Standing there like an avenging angel (or perhaps an avenging devil), was Lucifer. 

“Dad.” Her voice was weak, the energy to scream long gone. But it was alright. The circle may have blocked her magic, but it hadn't blocked Lucifer’s. And he would always hear when one of his children called for him. 

It wasn't hard for him to put two and two together. He'd seen blood magic before, had gotten trapped by it enough times to recognize it. And he had no qualms about freeing his daughter. The man was dead before he even had the chance to beg for his life (or, more likely, ask to study him). Lucifer then turned to Penny, cowering in the corner, but Abby’s protection was still active, and he stopped. His eyes stopped glowing, and he crouched down to get on her level. 

“My daughter is protecting you,” he said simply. Penny nodded. “Well, I suppose I am too, then.” 

“Is she going to be okay?” 

“Let's find out.” He stood up and Penny followed him as they walked over to Abby, still on the floor. The circle had already started to fade. “Abby, darling? Can you hear me?” She nodded, too tired to speak. The circle losing power had overwhelmed her. “Everyone's been worried about you. Beelzebub called me, you know. Seemed they wanted to make sure you hadn't deserted them. They sounded almost worried when I said you weren't at the penthouse.” 

“Sorry.” 

“None of that, now. What did he do to you, sweetheart? You look half dead.” 

“Feathers. Blood.” She held out her arm, fabric still tied around it. “Poison.” 

“I should have killed him slower, then.” 

“In Hell. Will be punished.” She didn't have the energy for full sentences, but she still refused to be misunderstood. “Notes.” 

“What notes?” Lucifer lifted her without any effort, not wanting her to strain herself by walking. “Do you think you can fold your wings away?” Without the circle, her wings did as she told them to do, and vanished from her back. 

“He took notes. Have to destroy them.” Penny, who had been standing behind Lucifer, ran over to where her father's body lay, and picked up his clipboard. 

“Here,” she said, “I've got them. Father had more, but I can show you where his office is.” 

“We'll come back for that,” Lucifer said. “Thank you, little one. Is it just you now?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You'll come with me, then. And when we come back, you can show me his office.” She practically preened under his attention. 

“Dad. Hurts.” 

“Yes, yes. Let's get you to the penthouse.” 

“No. Heaven. Heal faster.” Lucifer made a face. 

“You know I'm not welcome in Heaven, Abby.” She made a face right back at him. 

“My rules. We go.” 

“Yes, alright, whatever you say, O Supreme Archangel.” Was he being sarcastic? Yes. Was he still going to take her to Heaven? Of course. “I’ll send this young lady to the penthouse first, though.” 

“A penthouse? Is that where you live?” 

“Yes, little one,” he said, focusing on the girl. “I’m going to send you there with a miracle, is that alright?” Penny nodded. “Okay. There will be someone there to get you fed and find a room, and then we can figure things out from there.” She held very still as he snapped his fingers, and then she was gone. “Cute kid.” 

“She is brave.” 

“I am inclined to agree.” Lucifer looked at his daughter for a moment. “Why didn't you call for me sooner?” 

“Heal in Heaven. Then talk.” She thumped a hand against his chest, as if telling him to hurry up. 

“Alright, alright. I'd rather talk to you when you're done speaking like a caveman, anyway.” He let out his wings as she laughed, and her voice was rusty but it was there. 

“Bastard.” 

“There you are.” And with a flap of his wings, the pair was gone. 

[xxkajtattooxx]

The night was getting later, but it seemed like time was going slow, as if the two were in their own little world. This was something Kaj could get used to. His intention had not been to try and talk Jade up, but it had come so easily. In this small amount of time, he'd learned a lot about her, and she had learned a little bit about him. He didn't want to hold anything back, but there was apart of him that he held back, the side of him that some might call him a bad person for. No matter how long it had been, he'd always see himself as the thief, the liar, and the player. The player part might still be true, but he wasn't a thief anymore, and he tried to lie as little as he could. They were only a couple hours into getting to know each other. At some point, he'd have to come clean; for now, he'd keep the peace. "Actually, it's hidden in the bathroom closet. Gotta keep my cover on the down-low. The secret lair? That's a work in progress." He wished in this moment he wasn't having to focus on the road, because it was rather difficult to focus. "Be careful what you wish for. I could be crazy," he said, giving her a wink. "With time, you'll see it all. Don't go rushing things." Kaj listened closely as she spoke, simply giving her the space to say whatever she needed. It was good to let out feelings, and for some reason almost easier to tell a stranger. He felt good that she was feeling comfortable enough with him to reveal her feelings. "I think any of those professions would be lucky to have you. It's all up to you now, though. They can have their opinions, but at the end of the day, it's you who decides. Not them, not your friends—you." Her passion was endearing, something he had in himself. For Kaj, passion was incredibly important in all aspects of life. Passion was the thing that drove him to provide himself with a better life. "A teacher is one of the most important people in a child's life, aside from their parents. You guide them, teach them, show them how to do things, and then you send 'em off to their next chapter." At least, that's what he'd heard. He didn't have any connections with his teachers—he barely showed up to school—but he knew it was a great cause. "Honestly he sleeps most of the time. I try to tire him out before I go to work. I know he'd be happy if I was with him all the time though. It's why I want to get him a pal. I just... Need a bigger place first." He sighed. "Boy eats like he pays for the food." When she took his hand, he was taken aback, but relaxed into her grasp. "Y'know what? Just go wild! I don't even care what color you do." He laughed, wiggling his fingers. "My eyes?" he asked, looking back into hers. He couldn't help but to allow his eyes to travel down a little, but he quickly caught himself and looked forward, hoping she didn't notice. Shaking his head at her, his eyes widened. "Holy shit," he breathed. "I can't say I've ever had a woman do... Any of that for me. Sounds like the exact thing I need after a long session. Do you know how much my body kills after like, an eight hour tattoo appointment?" Nodding, he hummed and clicked his tongue. "The most complete package."

"I've heard that. It sucks. For what you guys do, you should be paid the world." Kaj felt a little bit disappointed when she confirmed it was her car. He didn't want this to end yet. If he weren't such a 'gentleman' as she'd said, he would probably convince Jade to come home with him, but he respected her more than that. Pulling over, he parked the car on the side of the road, facing the front of his car to the front of her's. Pulling his car into park, he unbuckled his seat belt and looked to her. "You pop the hood and I'll get the cables, okay?"

When Jade first flagged Kaj down only an hour or so ago, she didn’t know what to expect. She figured he would tell her to fuck off and leave him alone, since he was out for a walk with Lazarus but that wasn’t the case. Kaj was a complete gentleman. He made sure they got back safely to his place to grab the jumper cables, they were laughing, teasing, and flirting the entire time with each other, and he wasn’t even trying to cross any boundaries or make a move, even though it was written across both of their faces, of should we kiss not. She even was learning to let more people in. To see all the sides of her and to slowly put down the guard she made around her heart. Not all at once but it was happening the more she was talking with Kaj and smiling and laughing. “Do you have your cape hidden in the trunk? Maybe a secret lair back at your apartment? You also forget a complete gentlemen too. I like this handsome charming side to you. I wanna see more sides to you.”she said with a hint of a tease in the beginning but being serious in the end. Jade wanted to see all sides of Kaj. She wasn’t offended at all by his comment. She agreed. “Please say it because I said the same thing to them. My mom wanted me to get my law degree or attend medical school. Have a worthy profession and make something out of life. When I told her I was going to get my degree in early childhood education and to be a preschool teacher, she about had a heart attack. I was going against her wishes.”she huffed and rolled her eyes not at him definitely not at Kaj. She took a breath before looking over at him. “I do. I love what I do. I’m making a difference in these kids lives. You actually hit it right on the nose. That’s the kind of teacher I am. I put my foot down when I need to, but other than that I’m the type that gives out hugs and high fives.”she chuckled with a smile on her face. “Puppy cuddles are the best. Oh I have no doubt. He’s a daddy’s boy. He doesn’t want you to leave. Dont we all have to make that money. Pay for their food and toys.”she smiled. Jade understood. Tater Tot was like her kid. Gotta make sure he’s fed and even though he already has a million and one toys, picks out one more to bring home. “Mmmmm let’s see.” She grabbed his hand to check out his nails and think about the colors. Their first touch. “Alright we already said Dark purple and black. So maybe a dark blue, or even white. Blood red could do. Or just a bright red. Something to bring out your eyes.”Jade said looking at his eyes. She gasped when he scoffed again crossing her arms in a cute manor but at the same time trying not to bust out laughing. “Getting dinner cooked for you, a massage after a long day, watching your favorite tv shows or movies, dessert too.”The blush was back on her cheeks again hearing the compliments. “That’s me. The complete package?”

The smiles, laughs, and looks they were sharing with each other was an instant reaction for Jade. She didn’t have to hide how these moments together were making her feel. She wanted more moments like these. Maybe not the whole breaking down and car not starting moment, but the glances and smiles and laughs and blushes and being together moments. Jade wanted more of those. She hoped Kaj did too. “I over exaggerated that. It’s not half. It’s all my paycheck. Teachers get mini pay. For what we do and what we have to take home sometimes, we get very little pay for it.”she said. She looked out and nodded as she saw her car was the only one here. “That would be me yep.”

[momo-kageyama]

Heart Rhythm.

—————————————————————————

Anime: KPop Demon Hunters

—————————————————————————

Beomseok (Abs Saja ) x R.femele.

—————————————————————————

Abs Saja is a shy, kind and cute girl, a Y/N that contrasts with Abs' explosive charm. This meeting happens at an unexpected moment, revealing human and vulnerable sides of the demonic idol

The most muscular demonic boy in K-pop shows his most... protective, competitive and unexpectedly affectionate side with the sweet and shy Y/N.

Beomseok (Abs Saja) is a demonic idol, strong, intense and marked by scars from the past. Behind the provocative appearance and sculpted body, he hides loneliness and inner chaos.

Y/N is sweet, shy and kind - someone who reds easily, but has a calm strength that Beomseok never knew. She sees him as no one else sees him: human, vulnerable, worthy of love.

Together, they live a forbidden relationship between light and shadow, where her touch anchors him - and his love awakens her to a world of dangers and hidden desires.

—————————————————————————

The story takes place during a Korean festival that brings together several bands - including Huntrix and the Saja Boys. You (Y/N) are the costume assistant of the event, a sweet, kind and easily flushed girl, who loves confectionery and music, but dies of shame of any contact with idols.

⸻

The Saja Boys' dressing room looked like a mixture of neon ballad and luxury gym locker room. Soft red lights illuminated the mirror where Abs Saja, still sweaty from the rehearsed choreography, removed the black blouse glued to his body. The mirror reflected his sculptural abdomen as if he himself were part of a very expensive perfume campaign.

You shouldn't be there.

But the costume designer shouted your name and pushed you with a pile of new stylized jackets straight to the wrong dressing room.

- Sorry... I... it wasn't... - his voice died when Abs looked back, his messy pink hair and dark eyes meeting his with a curious glow.

For a second, he didn't say anything. I was just watching. The silence, for you, was deafening.

- Heh... you don't look like a demonic stylist - he joked, giving a half smile and tilting his head. - Are you new?

You nodded, half hiding your face with the collar of your blouse, which suddenly looked very hot.

- It's the boss's fault... I was supposed to go to the Hunter's dressing room. I'm really sorry. I just... - you lowered your head, but he was already approaching, walking with a disconcerting calm, shirtless and with a lazy charm of someone who knew exactly what he did with each step.

- You turned red. Was it because of me? - he asked, bending down slightly to face his face.

You froze.

- No! - he replied too fast. - It's just... very hot! And you... I mean, you're without... and I... jackets! Jackets! - you extended the coats as if they were a holy shield.

Abs let out a serious but surprisingly sincere laugh.

- You're too cute. Like... dangerous otherwise. - He took one of the jackets and put it on slowly, without taking his eyes off you. - What's your name?

- Y/N... - he said in an almost inaudible voice.

- Y/N, huh... It would match a spring-like idol. A floral vibe - he smiled, a little crooked. - Do you like music?

You nodded, still motionless.

- What kind?

- C-sweet things... soft ballads. But I also like... like... Soda Pop. - You immediately covered your mouth. What did you just say?

He arched his eyebrow.

- Wait... did you hear Soda Pop?

- M-my cousin showed... - she murmured. - It's for a school play. I thought it was cool. A little... uhm... sensual, but...

Abs Saja laughed out loud.

- "A little sensual," she says. That was the intention - he blinked. - But I like to know that you heard. I bet your version would be even better.

- Ahn? - you widened your eyes.

- With your shy voice... have you ever thought about singing?

You denied it too fast, as if it were absurd.

- I'm just a frame! I can't even look at people without looking like a red potato...

- Potatoes are underestimated - he said, seriously, leaning over as if telling a secret. - But sweet potatoes are the best. And you seem to me to be one.

You let out a nervous giggle. For the first time, he saw a different glow in his eyes. Something genuine.

- Why are you being kind to me? - you whispered. - You're a... a...

- A demon? - he completed, and the air seemed to weigh for an instant. His smile lost some of its irony.

You didn't answer. He just looked at him with big eyes, without fear. With something closer to... compassion.

- I know there's something inside you that screams all the time - you said, so softly that he almost didn't hear. - But... maybe you're just waiting for someone to listen calmly. Without shouting back.

Abs got serious. For the first time in a long time.

- You... - he started, but stopped. And then he smiled, this time without the forced charm. Just sincerity. - Do you want to have an ice cream after the festival?

You blinked, not knowing if you had heard right.

- Q-qu-what?

- Only one. I promise not to steal your soul... unless it's for a duet.

——————

The festival ended in applause and flashes. The Huntrix ended with a sweeping number, and the Saja Boys left the stage under hysterical screams and drones floating over the audience.

You (Y/N) finished putting away the extra costumes, with your hands still trembling. His head was spinning with the invitation. Had he been serious? Or was it just another provocation?

Until someone knocked lightly on the closet door where you were hiding from the world.

- Y/N?

You swallowed dry. That low voice - even without a microphone - still made your spine shiver.

- Abs?

He was there, wearing a wide black T-shirt now, his pink hair still wet from the presentation, a cap thrown back and a smile... almost shy.

- I thought you were going to run away. I brought ice cream.

He raised his hand. Two pots: strawberry and cream. Small, simple. An absurdly human gesture for someone who literally seduced crowds with a smile.

- Did you... buy this?

- I stole it from the press desk. But I stole it thinking of you. - He approached and offered the strawberry one. - I thought it was more your face. Kind of... cute.

You took the ice cream with trembling hands, but you were laughing. Nervous, of course, but laughing.

- Aren't you afraid of... looking less "demon"?

- What's more demonic: sucking souls with a dance or falling in love with a shy girl who blushes when she hears compliments?

You turned red. Again.

- No... you're not falling in love.

- Maybe. - He sat on the edge of the stage, patting the space next to him. - Maybe he's just tired of pretending all the time.

You sat next to you, shrunken, looking at the empty reflectors of the stage, now turned off.

- Did you know... that your aura changes when you're serious?

- Aura?

- Yes. It's less... sharp. And more... sad.

He looked at you with deep eyes, as if for a moment the whole world had been silenced.

- I sold myself, Y/N. A hundred times. Thousand. Body, voice, name. And now I don't even know what's left of me.

You were silent, with the little pot in your hand. And then, bravely, he put the ice cream pot aside and took his hand.

Your tiny hand on his. Hot. Real.

- There's still something there. Something you know how to hear... and feel. That's rare. - His voice was low. - Even among humans.

He turned his hand and intertwined his fingers in his. Like someone who didn't want to scare.

- I've never had someone... to talk to me like that.

- I've never had anyone who really listened.

They stayed there. Two worlds colliding slowly.

And when you looked at him - not the devil, not the idol - but the boy lost under all those layers, Abs Saja said in a low voice:

- I'll remember you, even if the whole world erases me.

And you answered, with a racing heart:

- I'll take care of what's left of you, even if it's just silence.

———————

(Day after the ice cream meeting)

You woke up with a notification on your cell phone.

📲 Beomseok:

"Hey, strawberry. Come train with me today. I'll pick you up at 10. No excuse."

You kept staring at the message as if it were a heavenly threat. Train? You? In the same gym as him?

📲 Y/N:

"And-me? But I'm... weak. Of paper."

📲 Beomseok:

"Not paper. Gift paper. Beautiful on the outside, and full of good stuff on the inside. I'm serious."

Your heart jumped. And then, 10am sharp, he showed up in front of your house. Black sweatshirt, hair stuck in a messy bun, sunglasses. Too beautiful. Too scary. Your heart wanted to run. Your legs? They were shaking. But you got into the car.

———————

—At the gym

The place looked like a modern temple - mirrors everywhere, clear lights, smell of iron and sweat. He gave you a pink sports top and a bottle of water with glitter.

- It's personalized - he said. - Strawberry pink. I thought it was your vibe.

You almost melted on the floor right there.

On the treadmill, he watched you with a provocative smile while running at 14km/h next to him.

- Come on, strawberry. You won't let me down, will you?

- I-I'm... running! Like, you see? - panting, you held it on the sides as if your life depended on it.

- That's cute rabbit hazing. But it's already a start.

He sat on the machine with scary plates and did 12 repetitions with ease.

- Do you want to try?

You stared at him as if he were a dragon proposing flight. But he just smiled, lowered his weight to the minimum, and held his knees with huge hands.

- Go. I'm here. I'll hold you. - His voice lowered. Don't worry. - You don't need to prove anything. Just come with me.

You did it. Afraid. With shame. But with him there... it got lighter. Literally and emotionally.

In the end, he gave you a high five and said:

- I'm proud of you. No one holds my Y/N.

—————

—Post-workout

He was sitting on the locker room floor, sweaty, disheveled hair, drinking water and staring at you as if you were the prize.

- You know what? - he said, suddenly. - I've never brought anyone here before. Gym is my temple. Place where I let the demons scream and shut them up with weight.

You approached, still holding the towel, your face blushed.

- So why did you bring me?

He smiled, got up, and put his big hand on top of his head.

- Because... when I'm near you, the screams disappear.

Silence.

- I only hear... peace. And the noise of your heart when you try to hide how nervous you are around me.

You laughed softly. Embarrassed.

- You're impossible, Beomseok.

He lowered his face, eyes on his.

- And it's impossible not to want you close. Even in the middle of chaos.

Then he leaned his forehead on his warm breath, and whispered:

- Next time, it will be glute training. I want to see that heart there endure.

—————————————————————————

—Saja Boys' Dormitory - Beomseok's Room

You don't know how it ended up there.

After training, he played:

"Come just a little bit. It's way. I want to show you my place."

And how to say no? Even more so with the way he said "my place", as if inviting you inside a secret part of himself.

The Saja Boys' dormitory was dark, elegant, with illuminated panels that changed color. Beomseok's room, however... was surprisingly simple.

A futon folded in the corner. A sly armchair. A shelf full of iron weights and... books?

You frowned.

- Is this... poetry?

- Hm? - He turned around, taking off his sweaty T-shirt and throwing it on the armchair, staying only in sweatpants. - Yeah. I read sometimes. When my head... screams too much.

You watched your back. The marks.

No tattoos. Scars.

Like claws. Like old flames.

You approached without thinking and touched one of them with light fingers.

- Is that... really?

He stood still.

- That's what's left... when you're burned inside for centuries. For fame. For a lie. For forgetting who it was.

You were too close now.

- I don't care about that - he said, softly.

- I shouldn't. - His voice was now hoarse, almost trembling. - I'm a demon. This here... - he held his hand on his chest, his heart beating fast. - This here is still deceiving. Still pretend.

You stared into his eyes.

- I'm just a shy girl... who stutters with a compliment. And even so, I'm here.

He smiled. Sad. Incredulous.

- You should run.

- I should. - You whispered. - But all I want now is... to listen to you. Even if it hurts.

Beomseok pulled you close slowly. Very slowly. One hand behind your head, the other squeezing your waist firmly - as if you were afraid of breaking you.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

- If I kiss you, will you stop seeing me as a monster?

- If you kiss me... I think it will be the first time I'll want to be swallowed by one.

And then he laughed. A short, nervous laugh, full of desire and fear at the same time.

And he kissed you.

Slowly. As if you were playing something sacred.

Beomseok kissed as if he had waited centuries for it. As if you were allowing yourself to love only at that moment, only with you. As if you were testing if you could still be saved.

And when his lips moved away from yours, he whispered:

- Stay tonight. I promise I won't become a beast. Just... Beomseok. Just me. Only with you.

You nodded, heart racing.

And there, in the room of the most dangerous demon in K-pop, you discovered that even monsters need tenderness.

——————

The blue light of the room bathed everything gently, creating delicate shadows on Beomseok's skin. He still held your waist as if you were made of glass - with contained strength, with reverence. The kiss still burned on his lips.

- Are you sure? - he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire, but also with care.

You looked at him, your eyes shining, your cheeks pink, your body trembling with nervousness... but not with fear.

- I've never been so sure of anything.

He smiled - and it wasn't the provocative smile of the stage, nor the debauched one of the dressing room. It was a vulnerable smile, as if you had broken something much deeper than his skin.

Beomseok pulled you back to the center of the room and slowly took off the training towel that was still on your shoulders. His touch was hot. Too hot. Almost supernatural.

- Do you know what you're doing to me? - he asked, touching his lips to his collarbone. - This here... you... are breaking all the rules.

- And you... are rebuilding me - you whispered, panting.

His kisses went down her neck, slow, loaded with electricity. Each of his movements was studied, respectful, but intense - as if he were learning the rhythm of his body with the patience of an artist.

His hands explored your skin as if they wanted to memorize you. As if they wanted to merge with you.

He laid you slowly on the dark sheets of the bed - the contrast between your softness and his sculpted body looked like an ancient poem written with your fingers.

Beomseok rested his forehead on his and whispered:

- I want you. But above all... I want you to be safe. With me. Inside this chaos.

You intertwined your fingers with his.

- I am. Here. With you. Even knowing who - or what - you are.

His eyes shone. Literally. A slight red tone pulsed in his iris, as if the demonic side tried to peek... but was calm. Silenced. Because with you... he didn't need to fight.

And then he surrendered. And you too.

It wasn't a hurry. Not even impulse.

It was desire. But also trust. It was body. But also soul.

On the outside, the world was full of battles and lies.

But in that bed, at that moment... Beomseok and Y/N were not demon and human.

They were just two naked hearts, discovering what it is to belong.

———————

— Dawn in Beomseok's Room

The daylight filtered through the blinds, gilding the environment with a soft glow. A beam of sunshine landed on Beomseok's chest, who slept with a rare expression of peace.

You were lying on him, your face glued to the hot skin of his bare shoulder, listening to the sound of his heart - firm, slow, safe.

For the first time since he met him, he looked totally human.

And for the first time in a long time... you too.

Beomseok opened his eyes slowly, flashing against the light. When he saw you nestled there, he smiled - that crooked, lazy, but genuine little smile.

- Still here... - he murmured, as if he didn't believe it. - You didn't run away.

You raised your face, with your hair all messy and a soft glow in your eyes.

- You snore a little. - he said, with a hoarse and soft voice.

He let out a low laugh and pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck.

- If this is a dream, let me never wake up.

—————————————————————————

—Training with Beomseok - What He Does When He's With You

1. Adjust your top or elastic discreetly when you don't realize you've fallen

• He doesn't say anything, he just fixes it with a light and firm touch, as if he had done it a thousand times.

2. Position your posture with his hands

• Corrects your spine during the squat, touching your big hands to your back and waist, guiding you with precision and a dense silence of tension.

3. Make the weight together with you, lowering and lifting in sync

• He wants you to feel that they are "together in this" - he encourages you with his gaze while performing the movements at the rhythm of your body.

4. Put a song on the phone divided between the two of you

• He hands over one side of the phone and says: "This one is for you to be strong... and sexy." You almost die of shame.

5. Pretends to be distracted, but observes every repetition of you

• He notices every tremor, every lip bite, every nervous pause - and knows exactly when to challenge you or give you a rest.

6. Create silly challenges just to see you competing with him

• "If you do 12 reps now, I'll give you a kiss at the end."

• "If I win on the board, you have to call me oppa until the end of the week."

7. It offers water straight from his bottle

• He touches the bottle to your mouth, without letting you hold it, and just says: "Trust."

8. Pass the towel on your face gently when you are sweaty

• No asking. No warning. He simply approaches and dries his face as if it were the most intimate thing in the world.

9. Lift yourself on your lap to "correct the form" of exercises such as Bulgarian squat or step-up

• "You're not going to do it alone while I'm here. It's up."

• He holds you by the thighs, firmly and effortlessly, and you pretend you're still breathing normally.

10. Finish the workout with you on your lap, sitting on the mat

• He pulls you to your lap, sweaty, panting, and just stays silent, with his forehead leaning against yours.

• "This here... is better than any stage."

—————————————————————————

Inspiring name in the post of:

@filijester

[lavenderxskys]

my invention - 0.5

pairing: stark!reader x peter parker

summary: the newest avenger has caught your eye, and it's pretty obvious that you've caught his as well.

includes/warnings: strangers to friends to lovers (at some point hehe), reader is starks daughter, protective dad moments, spoilers for marvel universe, fluff, secret relationships, cursing, this is just a prologue type deal so not much but lemme know if i miss anything!

it's safe to say that you very much dislike your dad at this moment. of course, you understood that villains were dangerous, but you had plans, it's new year's fucking eve of course you had plans. but thanks to your good ol' dad, you were locked in your room until further notice.

you plopped down on your bed, falling back until your back hit the mattress. you resorted to your phone for entertainment, hours passing as you scrolled through countless feeds of people whose parents weren't an overprotective superhero.

after a couple of hours, you noticed that the house had gone silent. you popped your head up, listening for any footsteps or conversations. when it was confirmed that you were home alone, you happily got up and left your room, hoping to everything good that your dad didn't set up any weird alarm system with jarvis.

upstairs was empty, it must be taking everyone to fight off whatever villain was in town this time. you turned the tv on and grabbed a bag of pretzels from the cupboard, scrolling through the channels until you found one you were content with.

just as you had gotten comfortable and happy, a series of crashes came from your fathers office. you jumped and quickly turned of the tv, shooting up from the couch and running to the kitchen to grab a knife.

there had been a fair share of attempted break ins at your house. after all, your dad was iron-man and tony stark. but normally your dad took care of the situation, not you.

taking a deep breath, you walked down the few stairs and crouched a little, peaking through the window to the office. there was what looked to be a man in there, rummaging around in the one of the cabinets. you couldn't see his face, but he looked almost panicked.

you mustered all the courage in you and barged into the office and raised the knife, "get the hell out or im calling the police!" your voice was quieter than you liked, but it would work.

the man turned around, a shocked look taking over his panicked expression, "woah! im supposed to be here!" his hands fly up, dropping a wrench.

"no one's supposed to be here, so drop the act and scram!" your voice shakes a little, but you hold your ground, not wanting to seem weak to whoever the hell this was.

"no i am, im holding the fort here for mr. stark. he uh-" the man stutters and looks around, "okay yeah i see why this looks bad, sorry." he cringes a little bit, rubbing the back of his neck.

"'mr. stark' is my dad. and i don't remember him ever saying he needed someone to 'hold the fort'. so who are you?"

"im peter parker, uh- spiderman? im sure you know me. also- mr. stark has a kid?"

you raise your eyebrow, finally getting a good look at the guy. he looked about your age, and you did recognize him a tad, you've probably seen him around stark tower. and you definitely recognized the name. you sighed a dropped the hand holding the knife to your side. "sorry bout that, i normally don't get left home alone. why are you here still, though? everyone else is out with that villain."

peter sighed in response, "im relatively new, so they didn't want me to come along or something? they told me to watch the body cams and if something happens to call for backup. but then mr. stark just dismissed me and told me to fix his desk chair, but then i couldn't find the tools so i started looking and then-"

you hold your hand up to stop his rambling, "okay- i get it. also, he probably just wanted you to tell jarvis to do it, no reason to scrounge around to find tools." you giggle.

peter smiles softly, closing the cabinet then asking jarvis to fix the chair, which he begins to do.

you look over peter and hesitate, but you figure it wouldn't hurt to have some company. "do you wanna uh- watch tv or something?" you point behind you towards the living room, "i'm sure it's not your best interest to be alone if new year's eve either."

peter pauses at your question, seeming slightly shocked. but a smile creeps up onto his face, it's actually quite adorable. "i mean sure. if you uh- if you're comfortable? it would be nice to not be... alone." his smile causes your heart to beat a little faster, "yeah, totally comfortable. if you murdered me my dad would probably do you a hundred times worse." you say with a small chuckle, leading peter our of the office and back to the living room. peter laughs nervously, "thats- reassuring."

[fxckingjo]

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖉𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖚𝖗𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖒𝖊

supe!reader/soldier boy

title from 'i want someone badly' by jeff buckley

in which soldier boy discovers he's the only one immune to your lethal touch.

You don't know how this happened.

One minute, Butcher was ranting about the latest mission gone wrong, intercepted by some "Vought cunts" or whatever. You were only half-listening, which was probably your first mistake, but focusing on controlling your powers is half the battle from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to bed. You're an unstable wildcard, but because of your... unique skillset, Billy Butcher decided you're more valuable alive than dead.

"We've got a new weapon to take that Homelander fuck right off the board—"

All it took was that one statement to bring him out of the backroom, white powder dribbling from his nose, blunt tucked behind his ear. You hear his thoughts before you see him, and the sound of his voice, gruff and loud and so, so very masculine, sends a chill down your spine. You wonder if he sounds the same out loud as he does in his mind.

Gonna kill the british one first, the prick. I ain't nobody's soldier—

Nice ass, sweetheart.

Who the hell is she?

"Soldier Boy, back from the dead."

Soldier Boy? You know Soldier Boy because of his memorial, or his reputation as a very dead American hero. This man is very much alive, and he's standing way too close to you.

There's a rule, you see, to surviving your abilities. Don't touch. Never, ever touch. Skin to skin turns optional telepathy into a mind-melting deep dive. When someone touches you, you drown inside their thoughts, and the harder they hold, the quicker you sink.

Until their brain goes...

Well, let's just say Victoria Neuman isn't the only supe who can blow people's heads up.

The difference is she can control it. You, on the other hand? Long sleeves and gloves for days. Using clothes to build a psychic wall. There's a reason Vought had you on lockdown before Starlight and Butcher got you free.

"Who's the babe?" Soldier Boy asks, lighting his blunt. A puff of marijuana wafts into your face. You cough.

You tell him your name, nose scrunched with disgust.

"Your new sidekick," Butcher informs him calmly. "The pair of you are the two most dangerous supes on the street, which means we'll be keeping you together until we can ice the caped cunt."

You protest first. "I'm not a goddamn sidekick!"

Soldier Boy adds, "And I sure as shit don't work for you."

The protests don't matter. The simple fact is that Butcher has enough on both of you to make this a matter of a vested interest, so you swallow your anger and pride down deep and face the music.

Then it happens.

You're sitting at the table cleaning your gun, because the monotony of taking it apart and scrubbing it inch by inch helps you feel grounded. Safe if Vought comes knocking. No gloves, because it's the only way to get in all the nooks and crannies.

Soldier Boy watches, and then he makes one, earth-shattering move. "You're doing that wrong, doll. Here—"

He grabs your hand.

Time stands still.

You jerk your arm free, dropping the piece of the gun and polish onto the table. You pull your gloves on as fast as you can, shocked, desperately looking at him. "Why would you do that?!"

Soldier Boy frowns, his eyebrows raised high above his emerald eyes. "Sorry, dollface. Didn't know you were so touchy."

"It's not touchy!"

Butcher's jaw is wound tight, but surprise flits through his internal monologue. "That's not bloody possible."

"Can someone speak fuckin English? The hell is goin on?" Soldier Boy demands. "Someone start fucking talking."

Hughie blinks a few times. "She... Well..."

"Spit it out!"

"People can't touch me!" you exclaim. "It's hard to explain but—"

Butcher answers for you. "Any cunt without the sense to back off her gets his gourd popped like a party balloon."

"So what? No one can touch you? Ever?"

You shake your head. "They tested it a thousand times. Vought. Supes they didn't like, staff they wanted to dispose of. Every single time, I'd get sucked in and then..."

Butcher snaps his fingers. The asshole.

"Nothing happened when I touched you," Soldier Boy remarks.

"Maybe it wasn't long enough?" Hughie supposes.

Soldier Boy grabs your arm again. Firm enough to keep you from moving, but not hard enough to hurt you. His fingers push up your sleeve, wrapping around your bare wrist. A second passes. Then another. You can hear his thoughts if you focus, but you're not sinking. You're not getting lost. He's not screaming in pain.

You can't speak. Can't form words. The room is silent, watching in horror as the scene unfolds.

"Fuck," he says, finally letting go. "This could come in handy one day."

"Don't do that again!" you snap, finding your voice.

Soldier Boy leans in, real close. "Next time, doll, you'll be begging me to touch you."

[valentine-cafe]

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 :  strawberry shortcake !! . . . preppy nerd ⊹ fem reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡​​​​​​​𝑢​​​​​​​𝑟​​​​​​​𝑖𝑛​​​​​​​𝑔﹕verse 781 ꮽ  rishen herrera

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕kind-hearted hero and star student. a cheerful yet dutiful spider-moth-mantis hybrid

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... rishen recently bought a pair of new earrings, but isn’t too sure whether they fit her all too well or not. you think otherwise, turning her world upside down when you tell her how she looks through your eyes. ⊹ cw ٬٬ none .

Usually, when Rishen bought her earrings, they'd fit like a glove. Make the pretty pair of red irises pop beautifully and match accordingly to her outfits! However. . . The pair of earrings she'd recently bought, did not give the satisfying experience as usual.

The little topaz stones clashed with the reds in her outfit. And the earrings got caught in her hair at the most inconvenient time. Most of all, she wasn't entirely sure if she agreed with the way they framed her face. . .

How come they looked so much better in the store when she tried them out the first time, than now, when she's using them for the first time since buying? It was a conundrum of the ages, she couldn't get the answer to.

"Oh— Hey, uh. Mrs. Herrera," A soft voice penetrated the quiet crackling sound Rishen's ears had produced in the middle of her zone out. So unaware of her surroundings around her locker, as her manicured hands searched for her biochem books.

Swiftly, you watched as her head snapped your way. Gods. . . The way her earrings dangle around her sides when she turns, the way her curls bounce slightly— She was the most intimidating, most beautiful girl you'd ever seen. No wonder so many feared her and adored her. And no wonder she had two guard dogs on her sides in the hallway consistently.

One might wonder where the two of they were. Perhaps bickering in theatre class. Or perhaps they were intended to meet her here in the hallway.

"Yes?" You watched as Rishen smiled as she responded to your call. Voice like an angel and beauty lethal.

"I uh- sorry I didn't meant to interrupt your thought train." You chuckle awkwardly. "It's just that, I really like your earrings. You should wear these kinds more, the make your face look more feminine."

A soft pink overtakes the bronze complexion of Rishen's face. Her hand slowly moving up to the side of her cheek, while she stares up at you in fluster. "You think so? I thought they didn't really fit—"

"What?!" You exclaim, giving her a wide eyed but affectionate stare. "The topaz mixes so well with your eye colour. I'd say they almost make you look like an entire midsummer dawn!"

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