#i keep trying to clear them out but i keep getting more and more

[heartyluv]

Do the LIs enjoy period sex?

Warning: Mentions of blood, period sex (obvi), dirty talk, a little bit of smut

Rafayel - I don’t think he enjoys it, but it’s not because he thinks it’s gross.

Rafayel seems like you’ve tried it once, but he couldn’t get into it much because he kept worrying if he was hurting you or too busy trying to gauge if you were uncomfortable. You’d think with the way you were sucking him in and telling him to keep going that he would understand you felt more than good, but he couldn’t fully indulge with that thought in the back of his mind.

And you’d absolutely respect him when he says that he’d rather wait until your cycle is over to take care of all your sexual needs. In the meantime though, he finds remedies that both of you can try and could help with your cramps. Like he’d find he most natural and beneficial teas and supplements, make herbal baths for you to take together, he’d book massages for both of you, and he’d even get himself a heating pad so you’re not alone when you use one when you’re lounging around with him. And he absolutely loves it.

“Raf, babe, you shouldn’t put the pad on the highest setting with it on your bare skin!” you giggle with slight concern when he clicks the button five times before resting it on his stomach.

“Don’t worry, cutie.” He lowers his shirt down over it, ready to bask in the warmth. He winks at you as you press your lips together, looking over him and wondering how he does it. “Besides, I know you’ll save me if the time comes.”

Xavier - Yes, and he’s an uncontrollable whimpering mess when he does it. Hear me out.

Sweet Xav will only have sex with you on your period when you ask. He never offers because on a regular basis, he always tends to your needs and puts them above all else, but that sentiment is increased tenfold when you’re menstruating. With that being said, his goal is to do everything you want to help ease any pain, cravings, or heightened emotions. Everything you want from the grocery store? He’s buying it in bulk. Your back is aching and your stomach hurts? Let him run you a warm bath with some epsom salt and tend to your hair as you relax.

But the day you ask him if he’s willing to fuck your pain away, he freezes up at first. He’s wide eyed, even stuttering a little bit before he clears his throat with a gentle nod after processing your request and says, “Of course. Just tell me how I make sure I take care of you properly.”

And my love…when he slides into you for the first time with all the additional slick and what he’s certain is increased warmth, he nearly buckles on top of you. You’ve always felt good to him—always—but having you like that would make him weak. And he’s trying his best to make sure he keeps an eye on you, to make sure he’s doing okay, but when you tell him to go harder, when you beg him to keep hitting that spot he’s reached, he’s throbbing inside of you with newfound vigor.

“L—Like that?” He bites his lip before kissing on your jaw as you nod frantically, pushing your hips up to keep him deep. “Oh, you feel good…hmph…Is this what you needed from me, my pretty star…?”

“Yes, bun…” Your boyfriend breathes heavily into your neck when you squeeze him tighter. “P—Please…sogood, sogoood…”

After that first time, he never admits that he secretly hopes you come to him and ask him to take care of you with his cock. He’s absolutely okay if you don’t, though. In his eyes, there’s always next month.

Zayne - He doesn’t have too much of an opinion on it. Walk with me.

Zayne is a man who prioritizes health and comfort. So yes, if you ask him to have sex while you’re on your period, he’s more than willing to do that. He’s not foreign to blood and as a doctor, he absolutely knows that sex can help you with the pain you may be dealing with. But just like Xavier, he never offers. That’s because he will never try and assume what you need since wants and symptoms varies with every single cycle. Other than your regular cravings, he’s prepared to change up the things within his control to satisfy you.

So, he doesn’t expect or even anticipate you asking him, but please never shy away from doing so. In fact, I think he encouraged and educated you about it before the first time you did it. He wanted you to understand that you have him as an option and as your man.

None of them would, of course, but Zayne really would never shame you or make you feel gross for a natural reaction and desire. Having a period doesn’t stop you from wanting the things you’re used to, and a good partner would never make you feel as if you shouldn’t want that. There’s no such thing as messy or nasty to him.

But that doesn’t stop you from being shy, and he understands that.

When you do have period sex, he acknowledges how much wetter and sensitive you are. I think he uses those moments to actually study and to get to know your body better. Long story short—it’s more about and for you than it is him. He believes that it’s his mission to know you just as much as you do, if not better than you know yourself.

“Talk to me, darling,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your collarbone as he sucks and licks on your flesh. “Tell me how you feel. Let me hear you.”

His thrusts are just perfect. Slow, but not too slow where you need him to go faster. Strong, but not so much that it makes your pussy sting with each snap of his hips like he’s made you feel before. “I feel…s—so good. You’re…fuck, Zayne…” He knows you can’t find the right words, so he takes your hands in his hair and the squeezing of your cunt around him as his answer: That he’s doing exactly what you need him to.

Sylus - Oh, absolutely. And I think you both tease each other about it because of how much you equally enjoy it.

You were the one to tell him about the benefits and he definitely believed you were messing with him at first.

Now, I’m thinking Dragon Sylus, loves to claim and be claimed, type behavior. As soon as you mentioned his cock being in your pussy, it twitched in his pants at the mental image of him being marked with your blood. You using him to feel good and he gets to see the ruby shade on his skin? He needed it.

To say he was intrigued and on the bandwagon without hesitation was an understatement. But he doesn’t pressure you or make you feel as if you should feel obligated to let him fuck you on your menstrual. No matter how much he loves it, the decision will always be yours to make. He heeds your command.

But know that he tracks it because in the event that you do come to him, he wants to be ready and he likes the anticipation—wondering when or if you’re going to give him that privilege. He’s like a dog waiting for a treat and you playfully poke fun at him for it every timeeee.

When you walk up to him, rub down his shoulders and kiss his face, only to ask him to pleaseee get you something to eat, you giggle when he huffs out a laugh and shakes his head at your blatant suggestive behavior.

But he doesn’t let you play coy. Nine times out of ten, you’re begging him to stuff you, and you’re gonna get an earful of his taunts when he’s burying his cock deep in the beautiful red mess between your thighs.

“Look how greedy my kitten is,” he coos, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he caresses one of your breasts in his large palm, occasionally grazing your sensitive nipple. The slapping of skin does nothing but fuel him along with the way your blood smears along his thick and pulsating length. And he relishes in that.

“She weeps even more for me when you’re like this. Nothing is funny anymore when you’re so desperate to come, is it sweetie?”

“Sy…” you choke, feeling your tits jump with each relentless slam of his hip. “Hnngh…so deep…’m gonna c—come…”

Caleb - I wrote a whole thing for him already before LOLLL!!! —Click Here— to read.

♾️ Tags: @starryeyed-apple @asiatic-apple @sensual-study @sweetcalebb @asiaticapple @raemanova @awquaz @callads7 @floatinginaer @crimsonsylus @aquarianbeat

Creds to @/bbyg4rlhelps for the simple red dividers & @/cafekitsune for the MDNI banner!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Helloooooo 👋. Sorry if this is a bad time but I saw that you're writing for K-pop demon hunters now and I saw your fic with the tiger and it gave an adorable idea, so what if Manager reader had a puppy, maybe a golden retriever or something like that, who's normally a big sweetheart but the second one of the boys pet it. Ultimate zoomies, and the reader comes in to see the guys just trying to get the puppy to stay still.

Lukas was a handful.

You loved the golden retriever puppy more then life itself, always feeling alot better the moment you stared into his big puppy eyes and laughed at the lightning pace his tail went whenever he saw you. Lukas was serotonin incarnate and you knew you could never have a shit day, not when you had a beautiful bundle of fluff to always cheer you up by simply existing, becoming overjoyed with seeing you even if you had been gone for five seconds.

The months old pup made the headaches go away and the kisses he would give you was worth the slobbery trail when you knelt down to greet him with an abumdance of kisses, causing the pup to go mental with his own affection in return before darting off like a golden blur within the depths of your room, finding that it had more energy to burn off then originally expected while you went to make him some food for when he tired himself out.

You loved Lukas alot but his tendancy to get the zoomies after a simple act of affection like a head pat or a scratch behind the ear, he was off causing chaos and often times tackled himself into you when he slides across parts of wodded flooring from running too fast. It's endearing at first but soon enough you had learnt to not over indulge Lukas in affection and give him just enough to stay within a calm, relaxed state.

However you didn't pre warn the boys about Lukas' tendancy to become too excited when given too much affection when you had made them watch over your precious bundle of fluff, all you did in fact tell them before leaving to stock up on dog food was: 'if one of you looses my true happiness in golden fur, my serotonin boost with toe beans, i will make you all regret it, one by one.' All the while pointing at each and individual member with the intent of upholding your threat, before giving them a smile and shutting the door behind you.

So the minute Lukas had gotten one too many head pats and chin scratches from Abby, Romance and Jinu, he began to bolt about the room like a golden blur their eyes can barely catch up with and causing a ruckas. The boys were at a loss of what to do, having not dealt with this sort of thing before, helpessly watching your puppy as he darted from one side of the room to another within seconds, or bolting from the sofa to running down the hallway to your bedroom the minute they blink.

'what do we do?' romance asked, trying to keep his eye on the golden retriever, hoping not to trip over the golden blurr.

'(name) is so going to kill us.' Abby adds as he tried and failed to catch your puppy, Lukas' nimble and small body managing to slip through his hands like water as it darted off towards the living room once more, skidding scross the floor on a pillow he had knocked off previously.

'We have to find and calm Lukas before (name) gets back and clean up the mess he's made as to avoid suspicion.' Jinu said with finality as he and Mystery teamed up to find Lukas, letting Baby be on watchout for you, and let Romance and Abby be on catching duty for when Jinu and Mystery heard the energetic puppy towards them. It sounded easily enough of a plan to work in their favour, being demons and all but they all would soon learn that nothing is ever so easily exacuted, especially not when it came to your precious Lukas who could do no wrong.

'everyone know their positions?' jinu asked everyone, giving them a stern look.

'yes!' Abby, Romance and Mystery said in unison.

'Baby?' Jinu said, casting him a questioning look.

'Heard you loud and clear, watch out for (name) and alert you when they're coming.' Baby said his job within the plan back to Jinu, word for word, before popping the lollipop back into his mouth. Jinu made a noise of apporval as he catches a glimps of the golden puppy from the corner of his eye. 'then let us catch ourselves a puppy!' He said as he and Mystery made the first move into fishing Lukas out of the room he was causing chaos within, believeing it to be a simple job.

It wasn't in fact an simple job, the boys were loosing badly, so badly infact that Romance and Mystery were forced to sit down on the floor, having never had been left so out of breath by a small thing ever in their demonic lives. Also Baby had completely given up on his duty of watching out for you halfway through, instead finding more humour in his fellow band mates misery in capturing this small dog, smirking and snickering when the puppy seemed to get the best of four other demons in a borderline embarassing display.

So when he heard the door open, he was quick to stop laughing and looked over to see you stood in the doorway, just in time to see Jinu and Abby collide into one another as they failed to sneak up on Lukas who seemed to know what they were doing and ran from under them at the last minute; that felt intentional by the puppy, like he wanted them to be lurred into a false sense of security before bolting towards you the second he saw you, barking like mad.

'Hi honey.' You cooed as you knelt down to look at Lukas, noticing that he was filled with unbridled energy that needed to be dispersed, took notice of the state of the room and saw how trashed it seemed before seeing the exhausted states Abby, Romance, Jinu and Mystery were in as the pieces came together in quick succession. 'did you guys not read my text?' you asked, looking from Abby to Jinu as they looked at each other confused.

'text? what text?' Abby asked.

'oh i think they mean this one.' Baby said as he showed the two his phone as Mystery and Romance forced themselves to their feet to join the others in reading the text on Baby's phone screen, their faces all collectively drop after reading it, which read as follows; 'I forgot to mention this before i left, but Lukas gets really excited when given affection or excessive affection, and he will get the zoomies. So please give my lukas affection at your own discrecion. See you later.'

Romance looked at Baby, who seemed too calm for all of this and pointed at him, 'you knew and didn't bother to tell us!' He accused his band mate who only shrugged.

'You guys seemed a little busy with catching Lukas, so i'd thought i would tell you guys later, besides i'm not the only one with access to a phone. So whaat's your excuses.' Baby defends himself as he pops the lollipop he had removed to speak back into his mouth, shrugging.

'We were trying to catch the puppy while you were sat on your ass!' Abby exclaims in defense of himself, Jinu, Romance and Mystery who huffed in agreement before they all looked over at you, only to see that you had managed to calm down Lukas and wandered into the kitchen with the little chaos maker nipping at your heels in excitment of having you home as you sighed.

'Seeing as you've stopped arguing, how about you boys clean up, you’ve practically made my living space into an active war zone.’ You told them with a tight lipped smile, Lukas sitting innocently by your feet, tail wagging at a thousand miles a minute.

‘Do we have much of a choice?’ Romance asks.

You gave it some thought before responding with a resounding. ‘Nope.’

[papayainsectorone]

Corner Shop Boy

summary: corner shop and certified helpful neighbor lando and uni girl reader just kinda fall quiet quickly

content: no warnings, just fluff

word count: 5,6k

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

a thought: i wanted to write corner shop lando so bad bc how fucking cute can this man get??? i love these photos, i´m not fully in love with this story but i hope you enjoy it anyways

a´s masterlist

You’re already speed-walking the moment your feet hit the pavement outside the bus stop. The London air is humid and clings to your skin as you cut through side streets and familiar shortcuts, dodging puddles and grumbling at the traitorous bus that left without you.

By the time you reach the corner shop, your chest is tight from the effort, your backpack bouncing against your back with each hurried step. You wrestle with the zipper, tugging your apron halfway out before you even make it through the door.

The bell above the door jingles. You don’t even look up.

“Hattie, I’m so sorry,” you start, breathless, as you shimmy into your apron. “I missed the bus, and then I practically ran here—”

You’re halfway tying the knot at your back when you turn around.

“Really, you know I’m never late, I’m so—”

You stop.

That is definitely not Hattie.

There’s a guy behind the counter. Not tall but tall-ish compared to you, brown curls a little mussed like he’s been running a hand through them all day. Hoodie faded and hands casually resting on the edge of the till. He blinks at you.

“Sorry?” he says.

“Huh?” you reply, brain glitching slightly.

“You said you’re sorry,” he says, with a small smile.

“Oh. Yeah. And you’re… not Hattie,” you manage, eyes narrowing just slightly as you try to make sense of his existence.

“No, I’m Lando,” he says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “It’s nice to meet you, Sorry.”

The delivery is flat, and the smirk that follows is clearly self-aware. It’s the kind of joke your dad would make after two pints and a long day of yard work.

You blink.

And then—god help you—you giggle. Just a bit.

You clear your throat, trying to collect whatever scraps of dignity survived your dramatic entrance.

“I’m—” you pause, smile crooked. “I’m not actually called Sorry.” You step behind the counter, shifting your bag off your shoulder.

He grins. “Oh nice to meet you, Not Actually Called Sorry then.”

You let out a soft laugh, then glance around. “So... where’s Hattie?”

Lando’s smile softens a little. “She had a bit of an accident. Nothing huge, but... her daughter finally convinced her to rest for once. She had to have surgery, so—yeah.”

Your expression shifts immediately, worry settling into your features. “Wait—what? Is she okay? What happened?”

He nods quickly, reassuring. “Yeah, yeah, she’s alright. Slipped on her front step, of all places. Surgery went fine, she’s just on forced bedrest now. Driving her mad, obviously.”

You exhale, some of the tension in your shoulders easing. “God. That woman moves more than I do—being stuck in bed must be torture.”

“Trust me,” he says, half-smiling. “I got a list of instructions longer than my arm. Including feeding her cat exactly at 6 p.m. Like it’s royalty.”

You blink. “So, you’re her neighbor then?”

“Since I was a kid,” he says, nodding. “She used to yell at me when I rode my bike too fast past her flower beds. Then gave me biscuits two minutes later.”

That makes you smile—yeah, that sounds like Hattie.

“She told me someone worked here a few evenings after uni, but didn’t say anything else.” His eyes flick to you. “Didn’t expect you to come flying in like that.”

You groan. “I swear I’m usually early. Like, aggressively early. Hattie always tells me to take my time but i could never keep her waiting.”

Lando chuckles. “Don’t worry, you’re only, like… five minutes late. And now you’re here to rescue me from guessing which shelf the stuff goes on.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, tying your apron properly now. “Okay. First of all, those—” you point accusingly to a half-filled shelf, “—are supposed to be color-coded left to right, not just… chaos.”

Lando glances over his shoulder at his handiwork and winces. “Ah. Right. My bad.”

“Red, orange, yellow, green, blue,” you list off, stepping over to start rearranging. “It’s like the snack rainbow.”

“I feel like I’m being lectured by a very kind but terrifying librarian.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you know how many people go straight to that shelf after school? It’s sacred ground.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, smiling. “Got it. Respect the sacred sweets.”

As you both fall into a rhythm—him handing you bags of candy, you sorting them with surgical precision—your earlier nerves begin to settle. He’s easy to talk to. Warm. Funny, in that effortlessly dumb way that makes you roll your eyes but still kind of smile.

You catch him watching you line up a row of Freddos like they’re soldiers. “You’re really serious about this.”

“You’re in Hattie´s house now,” you say without looking up. “And in this house, the chocolate is straight.”

He lets out a laugh that makes your stomach flip just slightly. “I’ll try not to dishonor her legacy.”

“Good,” you say, brushing your hands together like you’ve just restored order to the universe. “Because next, we tackle the crisp shelf. And I will judge your opinions.”

It’s quiet by the time the last customer leaves, a man who spent a suspiciously long time deciding between two scratch cards and left with neither. You watch the door swing shut behind him, then glance at the clock above the fridge.

“Closing time,” you say, stretching your arms above your head.

Lando looks up from the till, where he’s frowning at a half-crushed receipt roll. “Already?”

You nod, grabbing the keys from the hook near the cigarette shelf. “The days go fast when you’re busy rearranging every single magazine I already fixed.”

He flashes a sheepish grin. “Okay, but admit it—I got better.”

“You stopped stacking them upside down. That’s the bare minimum.”

He laughs as you both move around in tandem, flicking switches, counting the till, straightening shelves. It’s strange how natural it already feels—working next to him, the easy rhythm you’ve fallen into. The chatter, the small bumps of elbows in tight spaces, the way you both laugh at the same ridiculous brand names.

Lando’s wiping down the counter when he says, “So do you always close alone?”

You shrug. “Usually. Sometimes Hattie helps if she’s not too tired already. But I don’t mind. It’s kind of peaceful when it’s quiet like this.”

He nods, looking around the shop like he’s seeing it through that same lens. “Yeah. I get that.”

You flip the sign to CLOSED, lock the door, and turn to see him leaning casually against the sweet counter, arms crossed, watching you with a faint smile.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he says, but it’s not quite nothing. “You just… really care about this place.”

You glance around the shop—the familiar glow of the fridge lights, the warm smell of cardboard and old sugar, the shelf Hattie lets you decorate during holidays. Your chest softens.

“Yeah,” you say. “I do.”

There’s a beat. One of those quiet, still ones that could stretch or snap at any second.

Then he grins, breaking it.

Lando leans against the counter, eyes gleaming. “Alright, last serious question. If you could only eat one chocolate from this shop for the rest of your life... what would it be?”

You gasp, hand to your chest. “One? That’s brutal.”

“I don’t make the rules.”

You narrow your eyes, arms crossing. “So, I’m guessing you’ve already thought long and hard about your answer?”

“My answer?” He blinks, mock offended. “No—definitely not. Absolutely not. Never think about chocolate constantly.”

You tilt your head, grinning. “Okay then. On three.”

“1…”

“2…”

“3.”

“Kinder,” you both say at the same time—then crack up laughing.

And somehow, as the shop lights click off behind you and the door swings shut, the air cooler now with nightfall, it doesn’t feel like you’ve just finished a shift. It feels like you’ve shared something secret—something made of chocolate, teasing glances, and the kind of quiet ease that sneaks up on you.

Your backpack feels lighter somehow, and the buzz of fluorescent shop lights still lingers behind your eyes.

You walk slowly.

There’s no rush. Not tonight.

You smile to yourself. It’s dumb. It’s barely anything. But it feels like… something.

A few streets over, Lando fumbles with a spare key outside Hattie’s back door, a slightly squashed pouch of cat treats tucked under his arm. He finally gets the door open and is immediately greeted by the low, offended meow of an ancient tabby.

“Alright, alright, I’m here,” he murmurs, toeing off his sneakers. “Keep your fur on, man.”

Hattie’s kitchen is old-school cozy, floral tea towels, yellowed notes stuck to the fridge with novelty magnets, the faint smell of lavender and something baked months ago.

He fills the bowl, refreshes the water, lets the cat sniff his laces like it’s doing a background check. Once the judgmental feline finally starts eating, he pulls out his phone and taps Hattie’s name.

She picks up on the second ring.

“Well?” she demands. No hello.

Lando laughs. “Operation Feed the Feline: successful.”

“Good. He likes you. That’s rare.”

“I think he just likes the treats I brought. Spoiled little guy.”

“Good instincts,” Hattie says, then pauses. “And the shop?”

“All still standing. Till’s balanced, shelves are very… alphabetically correct. I’m under strict management.”

“You met her, then.”

He smiles faintly, glancing around the soft glow of Hattie’s kitchen. “Yeah. I did.”

“Mm-hmm,” Hattie says knowingly. “I figured you two would get on.”

He leans against the counter, tone softer. “She’s smart. And funny. She cares, you know? About the little things.”

Another pause.

“You’ll be good for each other,” Hattie says, like it’s already decided.

Lando doesn’t argue.

Instead, he rubs the back of his neck, glancing down at the sleepy cat weaving around his ankles. He knows better than to push back when Hattie gets that tone—like she’s already written the ending and he’s just catching up to the plot.

“I’ll check in on you tomorrow,” he says.

“You better,” she replies. “And don’t forget the nightlight in the hallway. The cat hates the dark.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He hangs up with a quiet smile and pockets his phone. The kitchen hums with silence again, familiar and gentle. He gives the cat one last chin scratch, flips off the lights, and locks up behind him.

His own flat is only a few doors down, but the walk feels a little longer tonight. Not in a bad way—just in that sort of floaty, stretched-out way that happens when your head is too full of someone to move quickly.

He tosses his keys in the bowl by the door, shrugs off his hoodie, and catches his reflection in the hall mirror. There’s a stupid grin tugging at his mouth he hadn’t even realized was there.

Yeah.

He really did like her.

As soon as you stumble into your flat, you call Hattie.

She answers after two rings, voice soft and familiar. “Hello, love.”

Your chest loosens a little just hearing her. “Hattie—hi. I just heard from… well, from Lando. Are you okay? He said you had surgery—why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m alright,” she says, calm and reassuring. “Bit stiff and grumbly, but the doctor says I’m healing just fine. I didn’t want to worry you, that’s all. I knew you’d call when you heard.”

You tuck the blanket tighter around yourself, heart still thumping. “Still. You could’ve told me. I would've brought you tea. Or snacks. Or company.”

“You still can,” she chuckles. “I wouldn’t say no to a bit of gossip and a packet of bourbons.”

You smile. “I’ll stop by.”

A beat of comfortable silence passes, then her voice softens even more. “So… how was your shift?”

You hesitate. “…It was good.”

“Mmm.” She sounds like she already knows. “You and Lando got on, then?”

You exhale, trying not to grin. “Yeah. He’s… easy to talk to.”

“I thought you might like him,” she says gently. “I’ve known that boy his whole life. He’s a good one. Always has been. Heart right on his sleeve, even when he tries to act cool.”

You smile into the phone, warmth settling in your chest. “He told me about your cat's royal meal schedule.”

Hattie huffs. “As he should. That cat has standards.”

You laugh. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“And I’m glad you’re getting to know him. It’s nice, isn’t it? Sharing a quiet space with someone who just… fits.”

You glance out the window, “Yeah. It is.”

The bell above the shop door jingles softly as you flip the sign to CLOSED, the last streaks of sunset stretching lazy across the floor tiles. Lando’s just finished sweeping behind the counter, a few rogue crumbs from someone’s snack run catching the light.

It’s been a few days since your last shift—enough time to miss the quiet rhythm of the place, and maybe the company too.

“Not bad today,” you say, dropping the till’s final count into the logbook.

“Record low for crisp-related crimes,” he teases, hanging up the broom. “You didn’t yell at me once.”

You smirk. “Because you actually put them in the right spot.”

“Growth,” he says, mock serious.

You both laugh, the kind that lingers a little too long.

He grabs his jacket from the hook by the back door and pauses, keys in one hand.

“I’ve got to swing by and feed the cat,” he says, casual, but there’s a slight hitch in his voice. “Then I was gonna pop in to see Hattie for a bit. If you’re not in a rush, you could… come with?”

You blink.

“Oh—I mean, yeah. If that’s okay with her?”

He nods quickly. “She’d love it. She’s asked about you, like, five times already this week.”

That makes you smile, heart warming at the thought. “Well then. I guess I should show my face.”

He grins, stepping aside and holding the door open with an exaggerated little bow. “After you.”

The air outside is cool but not cold, dusk settling low over the street in a kind of lavender hush. You rub your arms lightly through the thin fabric of your shirt, not shivering exactly, but definitely wishing you'd brought a jacket.

Lando notices.

Without a word, he tugs his hoodie over his head and holds it out to you.

“Here,” he says, like it’s no big deal. “You’ll get cold.”

You blink. “What about you?”

“I’m warm-blooded,” he grins. “Or maybe just too stubborn to admit I’m freezing.”

You hesitate for half a second before sliding it on. It smells faintly like laundry detergent and something sharp and warm—maybe cologne, maybe just him. The sleeves are long, your fingers disappearing in the cuffs.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Looks better on you anyway,” he says, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

You glance over at him, heart thudding a little too loudly in your chest. “Charmer.”

He shrugs, smirking. “Just telling the truth.”

You walk in silence for a beat, the kind of quiet that feels full instead of awkward.

“Crazy how different the shop feels in the evening,” you say, glancing back once as the windows fade into shadows. “Like it’s got a bedtime.”

Lando chuckles. “Honestly? Same. I swear even the crisps get quieter.”

You roll your eyes, but it makes you smile.

It’s quiet for a minute. Comfortable.

“She’ll be happy to see you,” he says after a while, glancing sideways at you.

“I hope so. I didn’t mean to stay away—I just didn’t want to crowd her.”

“You wouldn’t,” he says simply. “She lights up when talking about you. She said you bring good energy.”

Your cheeks flush. “That’s… really nice of her.”

He nudges your shoulder gently with his. “She’s got a good radar.”

You glance at him. “And what does her radar say about you?”

He grins, all teeth. “Oh, I’m a lost cause. But I feed the cat, so she keeps me around.”

You laugh, the sound light between the trees as you turn the corner. The street grows quieter, just a few porch lights flickering on, windows glowing warm behind lace curtains.

“She really means a lot to you,” you say softly.

He nods. “Yeah. She’s always been around, you know? Like… my backup grown-up.”

You smile at that. It’s such a him thing to say.

A few more steps, and he points just ahead. “That one. The one with the overgrown lavender.”

You spot it—cozy brick, chipped white trim, and a lazy cat curled up in the front window like it owns the place.

Lando slides his key into the lock and glances at you over his shoulder. “Just a heads-up,” he says, pushing the door open with a soft creak. “The cat… he’s a bit of a menace. Hisses at pretty much everyone—including me sometimes.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Good to know.”

He grins, flicking on the light in the narrow hallway. “Just, you know… don’t make direct eye contact or move too fast. Basically act like he’s royalty and you’re trespassing.”

“Sounds delightful.”

Inside, the house is exactly what you expected and nothing like it at all. Warm-toned wallpaper with faded roses, a crooked coat rack by the door, shelves crowded with books and tiny, mismatched trinkets—ceramic hedgehogs, a faded snow globe, old postcards tacked above the radiator. It smells faintly of cinnamon and lavender and something soft, like the kind of home that’s lived in and loved.

Your fingers brush a little framed photo on a side table—Hattie and a man you assume was her late husband, arms around each other, beaming. There’s a pressed flower behind the glass.

You barely have time to take it all in before the soft thump of paws sounds behind you.

The cat emerges from around the corner—long-haired, ginger and white, with a perpetually unimpressed face and the slow, deliberate gait of someone who knows they own the place.

He pauses when he sees you.

Tilts his head, whiskers twitching.

Then, to Lando’s visible surprise, he pads right past him, curls around your legs, and starts purring—loudly—rubbing his head against your calves like you’re his long-lost favorite human.

You blink. “I thought you said he hates people.”

Lando just stares. “He does.”

The cat flops onto your foot with a dramatic sigh.

Lando exhales, baffled. “Well… apparently he likes you.”

You glance down, smiling softly. “He has good taste.”

Lando gently lifts the sleepy cat off your foot and sets him down with a soft “Alright, your royal highness.” The cat flicks his tail like it’s the final decree of the evening and disappears down the hallway.

You both exchange a look—the kind that says, well, that went better than expected.

“I think he’s taken a liking to you,” Lando says with a grin.

“Clearly, I’m just more charming,” you reply, sliding your hands into the pockets of the hoodie.

Lando grabs his keys from the bowl by the door. “Shall we?”

Outside, the cool night air greets you again as you lock the door behind you. Lando’s car is just a few steps down the street—a battered little hatchback with a faded bumper sticker proclaiming something about the London Underground.

He opens the passenger door for you with a flourish that’s half teasing, half genuinely polite. You slide in, the seat cool beneath you.

Lando starts the engine, and the soft rumble fills the car. “Hospital run?”

“Yeah,” you nod, turning to watch the streetlights blur as he pulls away.

Lando’s hand drifts to the stereo, flipping it on to some quiet indie playlist.

The drive is smooth but quiet, the city’s evening rush slowly fading behind you as you turn onto smaller roads.

“So,” you say after a few minutes, “I thought we could grab something for her. Flowers maybe?”

Lando nods without hesitation. “Already on my mental list. There’s a little florist on the way, just about to close, but I’m sure we can charm them.”

You laugh softly. “You’re good at that, huh?”

“Charm and biscuits,” he replies with a grin. “Two universal keys.”

The florist’s shop is tucked between a boarded-up pub and a late-night café, its window glowing softly. A woman inside is just gathering up bouquets and humming softly, clearly preparing to close.

Lando kills the engine, and you both step out, the crisp night wrapping around you.

“Sorry, we’re a little late,” Lando calls gently through the door, pushing it open with a bell chime.

The florist looks up, wiping her hands on a towel. “Almost closing, but you’re lucky—just finishing up. What can I help with?”

You step forward. “Something bright and cheerful. Maybe some daisies? Hattie loves them.”

The florist smiles. “Daisies are good. Got a lovely bunch just cut this morning.”

She pulls the flowers free and wraps them quickly but carefully in brown paper, tying it with a faded pink ribbon.

Lando hands over a few coins. “Thanks, really appreciate it.”

You take the bouquet, inhaling the fresh scent of earth and petals.

“Perfect,” you say softly, smiling at Lando.

He catches your eye and shrugs. “Teamwork.”

Back in the car, the scent of flowers fills the space, mixing with the faint smell of rain-dampened streets.

“Ready?” Lando asks as he pulls away.

You nod, cradling the bouquet gently on your lap.

“Let’s go.”

The hospital’s sliding doors hiss open as you and Lando step inside, the scent of antiseptic mixing oddly with the fresh bouquet resting gently on your lap. Lando carries the flowers carefully as you both walk briskly down the quiet hallway to Hattie’s room.

When Lando knocks softly and pushes the door open, you peek in first.

Hattie looks up from her bed, eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh! You’re here?” Her voice is bright, disbelief mixed with pure happiness. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

You smile warmly, stepping forward. “Thought I’d drop by. You sounded like you could use some company.”

She beams, sitting up a little straighter despite the obvious stiffness. You cross the room and wrap her in a careful but heartfelt hug. She squeezes you back, soft and grateful.

“I’m so glad you came,” she murmurs into your shoulder. “It’s been a long few days.”

You pull back, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. “How are you feeling? Really?”

She sighs, the corners of her mouth turning up. “Better now. It’s the boredom that’s the worst. The stitches are healing fine, and the nurses are angels. But being stuck here… it’s not me.”

You glance over to Lando, who’s quietly placing the bouquet of daisies on the bedside table. The flowers brighten the room instantly.

“We brought these for you,” you say softly.

Her face lights up, eyes crinkling with genuine joy. “Daisies! My favourite.”

Hattie’s gaze flickers to you, then to the hoodie draped over your shoulders. She raises her brows in amused recognition but doesn’t say a word.

Lando leans casually against the wall, grinning. “I told her she’d look better in it.”

Hattie chuckles, then turns back to you both. “You two make such a cute couple.”

You and Lando exchange a glance, cheeks warming just a little.

“Stop it,” you say, but your smile betrays you.

Hattie winks, then reaches out to squeeze your hand. “I’m really glad you came. It means a lot.”

You settle into the chair beside her bed, the three of you falling into a comfortable rhythm of easy conversation and quiet support, the hospital room suddenly feeling a little more like home.

You stayed with Lando in Hattie’s room for another hour, the three of you talking, laughing softly, and just being there. The nurses eventually came by with gentle but firm reminders.

“Alright, lovebirds,” one said with a teasing smile, “it’s past visiting hours. Time to let Hattie rest.”

You groaned dramatically but smiled, knowing they were right. You promised to come back in a few days, waving goodbye as you left the hospital.

Outside, the cool evening air wrapped around you as you started pulling off the hoodie.

Lando’s brow furrowed with a hint of amusement. “What are you doing?”

Your cheeks flushed a little, fingers fumbling with the fabric. “Uhm, I thought… because I’m going home, you know…”

He stepped a little closer, eyes soft. “Oh, I can drive you. That’s probably way easier, right?”

You hesitated just a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, probably. Thank you.”

You started walking toward his car, the streetlights casting long shadows as the quiet night settled.

Lando’s grin widened, voice bright with teasing warmth, “Also, we wouldn’t make a couple that’s this cute if you weren’t wearing the hoodie, you know.”

You stopped, cheeks flushing again, heart skipping. You glanced back at him, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

The car’s engine hummed softly as Lando drove through the quiet streets, the city lights blurring past the windows. You watched the familiar houses slip by, your fingers nervously twisting the edge of the hoodie. It smelled like him—warm and safe—and you didn’t want to let go just yet.

When you finally pulled up outside your flat, the silence between you suddenly felt heavier, like the air had thickened with something unspoken.

Neither of you moved to get out right away.

You sat there, heart pounding, cheeks warm, stealing quick glances at Lando as he stared down at the steering wheel. He seemed just as nervous as you felt—usually so confident, now fidgeting with the car keys in his hands.

Then, suddenly, his usual easy smile faltered. He cleared his throat, voice a little shaky.

“Uh—so, um… maybe you’d like to go out with me sometime? Like, you know… a date?”

Your breath caught. You wanted to say yes, so badly, but the words tangled up in your mind.

“Uhm,” you stammered, voice soft and uncertain. “I don’t know if I have time… with uni and the shop and—”

He held up a hand quickly, cheeks coloring. “Yeah, no, I get it totally. I was just… thinking maybe at some point. You know, that’s totally cool.”

Your heart thudded painfully, warm and fluttery all at once. You wanted him to know that you did want that — maybe more than anything — but you weren’t sure how to say it.

There was a pause, the kind that feels like the whole world is holding its breath.

You gave a small, shy smile, and he smiled back, all awkward charm.

“Well… yeah. We’ll see.”

Neither of you quite knew what to do next, so you leaned forward and hugged him—a hug that was awkward and hesitant, but full of promise. His arms wrapped around you just as carefully, as if you were something fragile and precious.

“Goodnight, Lando,” you murmured.

“Goodnight, Not Actually Called Sorry.”

You both laughed softly, the tension breaking as you climbed out of the car, the promise of something new shimmering quietly between you.

As you shut the door behind you, you caught a final glance through the window—Lando sitting there, watching you go with that same goofy, shy grin. You smiled to yourself, heart lighter than it had been all day.

A few days later at your next shift, you push open the door to the shop and immediately notice something’s off. The lights are dim, casting long shadows across the shelves. The sign on the door reads CLOSED—but the door itself swings open without resistance.

Your brow furrows as you step inside, calling softly, “Lando?”

A faint shuffle echoes from the back of the store, followed by the unmistakable sound of something tumbling over and a quiet, frustrated “fuck.”

“Just one second, don’t come in yet,” Lando’s voice calls out, tense but hurried.

Curiosity wins over caution. You slip past some shelves, careful not to knock anything over. As you pass the gummies, you spot him.

Behind the counter, Lando’s set up something unusual—a makeshift table formed from a couple of chairs and some paper boxes draped with what looks more like a curtain than a proper tablecloth. He’s crouched down, fiddling with a lighter that stubbornly refuses to spark a flame on the candle sitting on the makeshift table.

Half smiling, half impressed, you clear your throat. “What exactly are you doing here?”

Lando nearly jumps, clearly startled that you’d caught him mid-prep. His hand jerks a little, almost dropping the lighter again. He looks up at you with wide eyes, cheeks already tinted pink.

“Uh—well…” He scratches the back of his neck, then gestures vaguely at the awkward little setup behind him. “Since you, um, don’t really have time for a date outside of uni and work, I thought... I’d just make it a date within this time. So you don’t have to worry. About time. Or anything.”

His words tumble out in a rush, every syllable uncertain. He fidgets with the corner of the curtain-slash-tablecloth, avoiding your eyes.

You blink, thrown for a second. “Wait. This is a—”

“A date,” he says quickly, then immediately backtracks. “Well—not like officially, unless you want it to be. It could also just be a very sad break room with... ambience.”

You let out a soft laugh despite yourself, the whole thing both ridiculous and incredibly sweet.

He looks up then, gauging your reaction. “I didn’t want to pressure you or anything. I just thought, maybe this way it’d be easier. No plans to move around, no stress. Just... you and me. And some slightly expired gummy bears.”

You take another step closer, the light of the single candle flickering between you.

“Lando,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips, “this is possibly the nerdiest, most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done.”

He gives a lopsided, sheepish grin. “I’ll take that as a win?”

You nod, eyes softening. “Definitely a win.”

There’s a moment of silence between you, gentle and warm.

Then you glance down at the little ‘table.’ “So... are we sitting on folding chairs and pretending this is a fancy restaurant now?”

Lando brightens immediately. “Yes. And you’ll be thrilled to know our tasting menu includes one packet of sour worms, a slightly crushed bag of kettle chips, and our personal favorite—Kinder chocolate.”

You chuckle, finally walking around the counter and settling into the chair he’d set up. “You really know how to treat a girl.”

He sits opposite you, finally relaxing, candlelight dancing in his eyes. “Only the best.”

You settle into the chair, the edge of the box-table wobbling slightly under the weight of a shared chip bag and two mismatched mugs that definitely weren’t made for anything fancier than employee tea breaks.

Lando leans back in his chair, leg bouncing ever so slightly, like he’s trying to play it cool but can’t quite stop the nervous energy radiating off him. You can feel it too, like something charged hanging quietly between you.

“So,” he starts, fingers drumming lightly on the box. “Tell me about... your most controversial candy opinion.”

You laugh. “That’s your date opening question?”

He grins. “Absolutely. It’s a high-stakes environment.”

You consider, tapping your chin in mock thought. “Okay. I think marshmallows are overrated. Even in hot chocolate. There, I said it.”

Lando’s eyes widen in mock horror. “Take it back. You’ve just ruined winter.”

“Nope. Spongy sugar clouds? No thank you.”

He shakes his head. “Unbelievable. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

You both laugh, the tension easing just a little. It’s easy, being around him even in the most absurd setting. But the quiet that follows isn’t uncomfortable. It just... shifts. Deepens.

After a beat, Lando fiddles with the corner of a napkin, then glances up.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod slowly. “Sure.”

“Have you, uh… been thinking about... that night?” He clears his throat. “The car. The drive. What I said.”

Your heart stutters, cheeks already warm again. You look down at your mug, then back at him. “Yeah. I have.”

Lando leans forward a bit, voice softer now. “I didn’t want to make it weird. I just—sometimes I say stuff and then immediately think ‘wow, that could’ve been way cooler.’”

You give a nervous smile. “You were kind of charming in a very... chaotic way.”

He lets out a laugh, visibly relieved. “That might be the nicest way anyone’s ever said ‘awkward.’”

You look at him for a moment, then say quietly, “I wanted to say yes.”

He straightens a little, eyes on you. “To going out with me?”

You nod, then shrug. “I just… didn’t know how to balance everything. Still don’t, really. But I like being around you.”

A quiet beat passes.

“I like being around you too,” Lando says. “Like... a lot.”

You both break eye contact at the same time, glancing away, smiling to yourselves.

Then, like he can’t help himself, Lando blurts, “Okay but seriously—if you ever badmouth marshmallows again I might have to reconsider everything.”

You throw a chip at him.

He catches it, grinning. “See? Already such a violent relationship.”

You shake your head, trying not to laugh too hard. “God, you’re annoying.”

“Admit it. You’re impressed.”

You roll your eyes but don’t deny it. And in that little bubble of store lights and flickering candle, with a mostly-stale chip bag between you, things feel good. Honest. A little messy. But good.

Maybe this wasn’t the date you expected.

But it feels like one that matters.

tag list

@mara1999 @random-movie

[deliwrites]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕆𝕦𝕣𝕤 // Saja Boys & Huntr/x

// DATE // 5th of July 2025 → 7th of July 2025 // PAIRING // Huntr/x x Fem!Reader x Saja Boys // WARNING // Suggestive, Jaewon is a b*tch, lots of pet names, mention of assault(not sexual just to make that clear), morally gray behavior, possessiveness, Reader is still oblivious, fluff // WORDS // 2.3k+ // SUMMARY // Y/n finds unexpected warmth in the group's care, but struggles with feeling like a burden. Their quiet reassurances offer comfort, yet her past still haunts her. A late-night moment with Rumi cracks something open - and while she doesn’t know it yet, they’ll do anything to keep her safe.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five //

a/n: I added one sentence in the last bit of Part three cause reader was wearing a hoodie but in part four she took off her shirt… so now she took off her hoodie in part three. It’s a minor detail but thought I would mention it anyway. Cause it does play a bit of a role in this part I guess.

It was weird yet cozy to spend time with all of them again. Abby, Romance and Jinu were actually great cooks. I’ll admit I moaned out loud at the taste, missing the way the guys shifted in their seats when that little twitch ran through them, and how the girls squished their thighs together. I blushed when I realized they were all looking at me. Their eyes filled with a mix of amusement and desire.

“Sorry,” I whispered, a bit embarrassed by my own reaction, “it’s just really delicious.”

Alright, Abby thought to himself. Guess I’ll be cooking for her more often if it means I get to hear that sound again.

They stayed for a while longer after dinner. They all talked about their schedules for a while. Trying to make sure at least one of them would be home. At all times. For me. I told them it wouldn’t be necessary. They just gave me a look. The kind that said you’re not changing our minds, before going right back to planning.

“Okay, so I’ll be home tomorrow,” Rumi says, one hand pressed to her chest as she stares at her phone. Their - now - shared calendar pulled up. “Baby and Jinu have Wednesday,” pointing at them. “Thursday… Romance, Friday Mira and Zoey,” Zoey makes a soft squealing sound, immediately wrapping her arms around me from behind. Pulling me into her embrace, her chin resting on my shoulder. The two of us were sat next to each other on the couch again, just like before. “Saturday we have a concert,” Rumi continues. “And won’t be home until late, but Mystery and Abby will be home. And you can eat with all of them.”

“I-” I hesitate slightly. “I feel… uhm,” their gazes shift toward me. At first unreadable. A little stern. But then they soften, one by one, letting me continue. “…like a bother,” I murmur, my voice quite. I hadn’t moved from Zoey’s embrace. Still in her arms, my back leaning against her chest. My eyes land on my fingers which remove nonexistent dirt from under my nails. “You’re… changing your schedules,” I point out. “… just to accommodate me,” Zoey squeezes my waist gently, Baby’s hand lands on my leg soft and Mira takes my hands to stop me from fidgeting. “I mean, I’m really grateful, don’t get me wrong,” I rush on, nervously. “It’s just… this is your job. Your life. I don’t want to get in the way of that. Or mess anything up. You all have careers and fans and-” I inhale shakily. “…I’m just… I’m not worth changing everything for.”

Silence. It’s heavy, pressing on like my thoughts are being confirmed.

“Yeobo,” Rumi’s voice is low. “Don’t say that,” my heart seems to stutter at the devotion in her voice. I glance up, her eyes already locked on mine, unwavering.

“You’re not a bother,” Zoey murmurs into my shoulder.

“You’re the reason we want to be home more,” Jinu says from his place next to Rumi, sincerity in his eyes.

“But… you barely know me…”

“We know enough to care,” Baby’s deep voice is steady. The truth in his words undeniable.

“You’re not some stranger,” Mira says gently, still holding my hands like she doesn’t plan to let go. “You matter to us. That’s all there is to it.”

“Making sure you have someone to go to,” Abby starts gently. “It’s a choice. Our choice.”

I blink slowly, my eyes landing on the rug like it will spell out the right words to say. But all I feel is heat rising to my cheeks, again.

“I just…” I breath out. “Don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not,” Mystery says simply, instantly, no hesitation.

“You never could be,” Romance adds, sweet smile on his face that just makes my heart melt. And I physically do, sinking further into Zoey’s hold. And still… some small, stubborn part of me thinks. They’re just being kind. That’s all this is. Nodding, I let them continue. Rumi ends up saying that on Sunday, everyone will be home. Abby suggests a movie night at their place, to which they all agree and I do too when they look at me.

“I’m sorry, do you mind if I go to bed?” I pipe up a little while later. My eyes half lidded. Tired from the emotional day I had.

“You don’t have to ask, Gwiyomi,” Zoey giggles gently, squeezing me softly.

“It is getting quite late. We should probably go too,” Jinu says faking a yawn. I stand up with them and walk in the direction of the stair. But I get stopped by a hand on my wrist.

Turning I find, Baby. Before I can say anything, his lips meet my cheek. A gentle peck which makes my eyes widen in surprise.

“Goodnight, yeobo,” he says softly before walking in the direction of the door. I don’t even have time to recover when another peck gets placed on my cheek.

“Sweet dreams, cheonsaya,” Romance says with a sweet smile, following Baby. Wha-

“Sleep well, gongjunim,” Jinu’s voice is soft, his eyes meeting mine before he too pecks my cheek. Abby is quick to follow, pecking my cheek before he speaks.

“Night, tokkiya.”

“Get some rest, okay, ippeuni?” Mystery asks, making me nod with a confirming noise. A smile grows on his lips and he pecks my cheek too. I feel frozen in time. Heat rushing to my face at the fact they all kissed me goodbye.

“Goodnight,” Mira, Rumi and Zoey say in unison to the boys. Zoey and Rumi wrapping their arms around my waist, while Mira wraps hers around my shoulders from behind. The boys wave before stepping into the elevator.

“Sleep well, Gwiyomi,” Zoey murmurs against my cheek as she presses a gentle kiss there. Rumi does the same on my other cheek, squished between the two. Mira takes Zoeys place and places a peck just below my eye.

“You know where our rooms are,” she says, her smile soft but serious. “If you need anything… just come find us.”

“Okay, thank you,” my voice barely a whisper as I walk up the stairs in a daze.

Seconds later the five return. Teleporting to their original seats like they never left in the first place. The girls joining them again. Handing their phones to Baby without having to communicate. The boys open their phones and follow Y/n on the camera’s.

They see her walk into her room, the lights on her nightstands already on. Closing the door with her back. Leaning against the door for a moment. Even in the dim light of the light the blush is visible on her cheeks.

Her hands find her cheeks, pressing against the warm skin like it betrayed her.

“They are only being friendly, Y/n,” she says to herself. “Stop blushing over their actions,” she continues to scold herself. With a sigh she moves away from the door. Walking into the closet she takes off her sweater, gaze falling to her arm.

“What?” Jinu notices first, drawing the attention of the others. Mira was watching with Abby, Rumi with Jinu and Zoey with Mystery. Baby had the girls phones, installing the same app so they too could keep an eye on her. Peeking every few seconds at Romance’s phone.

“Is that… bruising?” Rumi asked, watching the screen as Y/n’s gaze landed on her upper arm.

“How did I not notice that before,” Zoey scolds herself.

“Because you were too focused on ogling the rest of her body,” Baby smirks at her, which leaves her pouting. Though she doesn’t deny the accusation.

“One last mark…” she mumbles to herself. Sighing she drops her sweater in the hamper, located in the corner of the walk in closet. Taking off her bra, she drops it in there too.

It seems almost instinctive, all five of them turn the screen face down the moment they saw her reach behind her. Sure they wanted to see her like this. But they hadn’t installed the camera’s to watch her undress. It wasn’t about that. Not really. Watching her change felt wrong… and yet they all wanted to. Craved to.

“Jaewon has to pay,” Mira says, voice stern, eyes glowing golden. Abby agrees with a huff.

“Agreed, but not today,” Juni and Rumi say at the same time. The others looking almost offended that they can’t just go and take Jaewon’s soul. It wasn’t hard to find him with him always sharing his whereabouts on his social media.

“Y/n is our first priority,” Jinu adds and everyone somewhat reluctantly agrees. Mira’s eyes returning to her human ones. Zoey peeks at Mystery’s phone again, only turning it back the right way fully when she notices Y/n is dressed in a tank top and a pair of pajama shorts. Exiting the closet she heads for the bathroom. There she brushes her hair, brushes her teeth and does a little bit of skin care, before crawling into the big bed.

She looks so small, their little maknae. The watch for a little while longer, making sure she falls asleep. Until her breathing slows and deepens. Only then do they close the app. For now.

Baby hands the girls their phones back, and this time when they say goodnight, they actually leave the apartment and go to their own. Reluctantly so.

Startled awake, I sit straight in the bed, catching my breath. Staring around the room. I scramble to turn the light on. When I do a sigh of relief leaves my lips. With a hand on my chest I try to calm my heart down.

“He’s not here,” I murmur to myself. “He doesn’t know where you are,” closing my eyes I take a deep breath before laying back down.

I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, his just stare back at me. I toss and turn for a while before I give up.

“They said you could find them,” I tell myself. Pulling the covers off of me I tip toe out of bed. Softly opening my door. I have no idea what time it is. The small frosted windows the bedrooms have are dark. At least the one across from my bedroom, and the one two doors down. The middle one being the bathroom.

From the corner of my eye, I notice soft lighting from the room next to mine. With soft steps I walk to the door. Lifting my fist, I hesitate. Biting my bottom lip, gaze going to the floor. They gave you permission, Y/n, come on. Looking back up I knock on the door softly. Not wanting to startle whoever was inside.

I don’t hear anything, but I stay for a bit longer. The hope that blossomed in my chest at the light, slowly simmers.

I’m about to walk away when the door opens. Rumi stands there in a white tank top and pajama pants covered in teddy bears and choo choo trains. I wanna giggle at the sight of them but hold it in.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Sorry to bother you,” I start but she just shakes her head as if to tell me stop apologizing for something I’m not being. “…I had a nightmare… and can’t get back to sleep…” I tell her honestly, standing stiff with my hands clasped together in front of me in embarrassment.

“Oh, nae byeol,” her voice tender and soft. Opening the door further she tugs on my hand and pulls me inside. Closing the door behind us. Tugging me to her bed she pulls back the covers and practically shoves me into her bed. I can’t stop the smile from gracing my lips at the action. She practically tucks me in before joining me on the other side. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, quickly turning off the light before she faces me again. Her hands find my waist, tugging me closer to her.

“It’s just,” I sigh, trying to find the words.

“It’s okay,” pulling my pillow closer to hers, then tugging me even closer. Tangling her legs with mine, her thigh resting against my heat. My cheeks heat up at the feeling and I couldn't be more happy that she turned off the light. “Do you have nightmares often?”

“Yeah,” my answer is breathless, which I hope she doesn’t look further into. “… Jaewon… he…”

“Take your time,” she murmurs, her forehead leaning gently against mine.

“When we broke up, a year ago… he still had a key to my dorm,” I close my eyes letting her closeness be my comfort. “He said he had dropped off the key in the box, you know, the one I had to drop mine in?” I feel Rumi nod against my head. “But… he hadn’t. He uhm-” I take a shaky breath. “There were nights that he would randomly show up.”

“He what?” there is anger in her voice. When I open my eyes I swear I see her eyes flash golden, but I play if off as my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“… I would wake up with bruises,” I whisper. “All over,” Rumi stiffens. “I… I never remembered how I got them. Not fully,” my hand fists the cover in the small space between us. “But I always remembered his eyes,” I swallow as they flash in my mind. “They glowed. Not like a reflection of the light,” I shake my head, eyes unfocused. His eyes clouding my vision. “They… actually glowed. Bright with anger.”

There’s a long pause. I feel Rumi’s breath, shallow now, fanning against my cheek.

“He said I was imagining things.” I let out a humorless laugh. “That I was just dreaming. But—” My chest tightens. “But the bruises were real. And I always felt… wrong. Like something had happened and I wasn’t allowed to remember it,” her hands tighten at my waist, fingers curling into the fabric of my tank top.

“He can’t reach you here,” she states like a promise. The hand under my body moves around my neck, tugging my head to her chest. “We will make sure of it,” the tone has a darkness to it that I can’t place. “We will protect you.”

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five //

Is there anything you would like to see in any of the next parts? Let me know in the replies or by reblogging! I can't guarantee it will be in it, but your input might give me more ideas!!

Taglist

@ghostlyworld @strayharmony943 @zariahthewitch @ateezswonderland @bunnytea10 @levifiance @katzline @ch1cky-093 @justanindiangirl12 @mxvoid26 @m-1mi @raineandcl0uds @mel3484 @apelepikozume @kangsae-byeokfan @j3lsaa @zero-jpg @planetpearlsworld @sylus-h3ll @sy1ock @fancyhawk45 @mazzk1ng @furblrwurblr @ikykwkleeknowwww @ffcfffr @faerie-soirxx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @osball @uniquecutie-puffs @puppyminnnie @nagithe5th @fangsbunny @prettylittlelavvy @a-redharlequin @2emotionallyunstable @nerdsconquerall @animegamerfox @starmee-lodurrson @hornehlittleweeblet2 @rosapops2666 @pandafuriosa60 @snowy-violet @celesteelysia @myfturn @silver--47 @itsberrydreemurstuff @ellie-x0xo @evemeri @misdollface @bethleeham @sharkers00 @nightdark-dreamdark @estellafake @hoodiepandaninja16 @tenaciouskittenpuff @komataru @any-maybe @moobiee @violetinferno @asillysimp @tiger-lilee-5 @justanerd1 @magical-spit @kahoonie @yuichi-cat @frogeddeyes @koda-lupinn @beppybeesnuggets @starchildren220 @7amshow @aurorab-0-realis

I hope everyone got tagged correctly! If not I will tag those who didn't in the comments!

[my-castles-crumbling]

walk - jegulus - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 249

He couldn’t sleep. Lounging in the sitting room of the Potters’, Sirius sighed, trying desperately to force sleep to come to him. But just as his eyelids finally started getting droopy, the soft click of the back door made him sit up with a start–everyone was supposed to be asleep in their beds.

Hand gripping his wand tightly, he watched, eyes narrowed, as two figures crept down the hall.

“James? Reg? What the fuck?” he whisper-yelled, half-shocked, half-suspicious as the two other boys walked into view.

James, who was in front, but who was holding Regulus’s hand and leading him down the hall, jumped clear out of his skin.

“Sirius! Oh, er—what’re you doing here?” he asked guiltily, dropping Regulus’s hand quickly and shifting from foot to foot.

“Me? I was just trying to fall asleep! What were you two doing outside?” he demanded, furrowing his eyebrows even more.

“Oh, relax, Sherlock,” Regulus snapped, rolling his eyes. “We were just going for a walk. Keep your hair on.”

But Sirius looked from Regulus to James, and instantly knew that was not the whole truth. “Then why’s James smiling and blushing like he just won the fucking lottery?” he asked, gesturing to his best friend.

Indeed, the taller boy was grinning from ear to hear, face flushed, and his lips looked distinctly kiss-bitten. 

“I…er…saw some cool stars,” James shrugged unconvincingly.

“Yeah? Was one of them named Regulus?” Sirius smirked.

The way James turned from red to maroon was answer enough.

[yanderenightmare]

jujutsu kaisen- which yanderes are really scary? i love the one you did about bnha, like which ones are just show, and which ones are really dangerous ones!! 💘

Yandere JJK

♡ FEAT: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Itadori

♡ TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, kidnapped reader, pet-play, degradation, caging, punishments, manipulation, forced submission, other stuff...

♡ FEM reader

♡ Kento Nanami

He’s scary because he’s so strict. 

He’s got house rules and expects you to follow them—no exceptions. Oh, and when you fail to do that? He expects you to take your punishment without any fuss.

“You know what you did wrong, baby. Be a good girl now and make it right, and I’ll forgive you.”

Yeah… you’ve yet to learn how to do that…

Stupid as you know it is, you always try to run—and it always makes it worse.

Your ass stings, smacked raw after three dozen hits. You sit with it on your heels, kneeling before the man who dealt the blows. That would have been the end of it if only you’d managed to take it properly—you could have been done. But now here you are, tears on your face, hiccups still raw in your throat, as he fastens the collar around it.

He doesn’t take kindly to you when you try to avoid responsibility. Accepting your punishments is one of those responsibilities.

It’s about humility, knowing when you’re wrong, and a matter of integrity to accept the consequences. And as Kento makes clear, a good girl should have both. And if you have neither, well, then you don’t deserve to be treated like a good girl, now, do you?

And that's a real shame. You see, because good girls get to eat their dinner at the table. They have the right to take warm showers, can sleep in the bed, and wear clothes. They’re even allowed to have hobbies after they’re done with all their chores. 

But bad girls, however? They don’t get any of that. 

Because a bad girl is no different from an animal. Bad girls get their dinner in a bowl on the floor, are hosed down in the tub, sleep and stay in their cage whenever their master’s out, and walk around on all fours naked with a collar around their throat until they’ve proven themselves worthy of being a good girl again.

And how does she do that?

Why, by obeying and serving her master, of course.

And so, even a whole week later, you're still stuck sucking his cock through the thin black metal piping of your cage, just like a glory hole.

His fingers interlock with the bars above you, holding them tight enough to make his knuckles whiten, rattling the cage somewhat each time he rocks back and forth.

He doesn’t talk to you much when you’re in this state. Small talk and sweet nothings are reserved for good girls. While bad girls, naturally, only deserve commands like sit, open up, tongue out, suck. 

“Turn around.”

Your breath is erratic, throat abused, voice weak, saying, “Yes, master.”

You’re not allowed to call him by his name, only when you’re back to being his good girl. For now, you’re not his pretty wife; you’re just a caged critter he’s training, and as such, you’ll refer to him appropriately with the proper title.

You honestly don’t know which is worse sometimes, acting like his ever-sweet housewife or this, this fucked up pet-play.

You twist around on all fours in the small cage—face down, ass in the air, as you press your cunt up against the cool metal bars and await getting fucked just like an actual animal.

He’s laid out a baby pink dress on the bed, all frills and ruffles like the things dolls wear—a clear sign. This is the last day of your probation—if you manage to pass the test, that is—meaning, be a good pet and take the pounding.

The cage rattles even more after he drives himself inside and sets his tempo.

It’s hard maintaining the position, painful, but you hold it as good as can—keeping your cunt pressed flush against the wire so hard the fat of your ass and thighs squeeze through, leaving cross-hatched markings on the skin, staying there for every harsh thrust until he's filling you up with his load.

When he’s done, he crouches down, asking sternly if you’re going to be his good girl from now on. And you, despite knowing how the cycle repeats, nod your head, desperately wanting out of the cage even if it means wearing whatever he dresses you in and doing whatever he tells you until the next time he deems you’re due for a demotion.

♡ Satoru Gojo

Gojo’s scary for the opposite reason from Nanami.

Where Nanami is structured, Gojo is random. You never know what to expect or when his switch is about to flip or go apeshit.

Most days, he’ll act like your boyfriend and treat you like his girlfriend. Ignoring you when you don’t play along. He just boops your nose and calls you his grumpy little tsundere with a fond smile on his lips.

He’ll be so lax with you then, allowing you to call him names and fight him. Pulling you to him and spinning you about, doing whatever he wants, treating you like a doll. Laughing at your protests as if they’re all just jokes.

Other days, he’ll be much the same, but even more lax, so lax that he might even actually listen to you, throwing his hands up in surrender, saying “okay, okay” when you growl at him not to touch you.

He’ll act, somehow, somewhat normal on those days as if the two of you just happen to be living with each other. He won’t insist on you being his girlfriend or him being your boyfriend, won’t force you to be lovey-dovey, and won’t force his own lovy-dovey-ness onto you.

On those days, he actually seems to accept that you don’t love him, and you can pretend he’s just this roommate you don’t like. You'd call it his sane days. But at the same time, you think you could even stab him, and he wouldn’t care. So, it's more like his too-tired-to-care-or-something days.

Then there's his demon days.

On those, you don’t get away with anything without him shoving it in your face how little anything you do matters.

He’ll be nasty about it, too. Grinning at your struggle as he pins your wrists above your head and holds them there without budging, making it painstakingly clear that no matter how much strength you put behind it, it’s nothing to him. 

He might even lift you by his hold, haul you off the ground, up onto your tippy-toes, and further, until you’re no longer touching the floor, have you hanging there, like he’s nailed you to the wall.

At those times, it’s as if all he wants to do is make you squirm.

Cupping your cunt in his other hand, he tickles the slit before filling you with two of his ever-long fingers. Breath hitting your cheek and neck, where he whispers filthy teasings in your ear, his sharp blue eyes beholding you with a glint and a smirk on his lips.

He strives to make you cum, but it’s not about your pleasure—it’s about proving a point. The point being, everything in your body surrenders to him, so you should give it up already and accept it.

And still, he doesn’t really tell you to stop fighting—he just mocks you with false coos, “All I want is to see the look on this cute face when I make you cum. Come on, show it to me. We both know you’re gonna, so just give it up already, yeah?”

He only snickers when your cunt flutters around his fingers, eagerly watching you try denying it by shaking your head and biting your lips from squealing.

“That’s it. So fucking cute. And it’s all fucking mine.”

Sadistic glee is painted on his face as he furthers your humiliation by treading your sensitive walls over his cock next. Up against the wall, your thighs around his torso, his mouth on your neck with tongue and teeth.

No matter how you push on his shoulders and chest, he doesn’t budge—just continues to have his way.

You never know which mood you’re waking up to. Delusional boyfriend Satoru, strange roommate Satoru, or this, sadistic Satoru, or someone completely different, someone who’s in all matters of likelihood way worse like that time he cam home covered head to toe in blood and still insisted on fucking you then and there.

♡ Suguru Geto

You started off as a simple temple follower before Geto became the new head priest. You’d been brought into it by your parents from birth. They’d both tried leaving when the organization changed. It would have cost them their lives if they hadn’t had you to offer instead.

And so you become one of his personal servants.

It wasn’t so bad in the beginning, to be honest. You had other maids to find solace and solidarity in. It was only when he took closer notice of you that you started feeling the urge to run away.

Geto is an understanding and patient person. And so he allowed you many liberties, such as letting you talk your way out of coming to his chambers when he requests you, knowing it’s only a matter of time before you run out of excuses.

It’s only when you abuse those liberties that he deems it fit to punish you. When you, just like your foolish parents, take his loose reins as an opportunity to run away.

Naturally, you don't make it far. You should have learned from your parents' mistakes. But, where he was more than happy to stain his pristine monks' robes with their blood, he doesn’t lay a hand on you.

No…

He leaves that to them. 

The many monsters he summons—all slimy, bulky, bumpy ones that drool over your pretty skin as they tear your clothes off and start groping you, rearing your every orifice with something gross.

You scream in the beginning. Then you sob. Then you go silent, whole body limp and twitching, eyes miles away.

He calls them all off when you’re spent—when you don’t even have the strength left to lift a finger, and all you do is lie there where they’ve left you, in a heap of your own undoing.

He doesn’t even say anything. He just snaps his fingers, ordering some other servants to come and collect you.

Lying on the floor, your vision fades in and out as you watch his long robe drag along the floor, steadily moving away from you until disappearing.

The other servants bathe you and dress you, erasing all traces except for those left on the inside.

You don’t see him until later. And this time, the very sight of him makes you shiver.

He asks you which you prefer: how you can choose to behave and be treated like his favorite, or pull a stunt again and be reduced to a plaything.

And this time, it’ll be forever—he doesn’t do third chances.

Your hair’s still damp, and you're wrapped in the fluffiest of all robes, and still, you feel raw and cold and dirty beyond relief as you nod your head and whimper out how you’ll behave.

He smiles then. That kind smile he uses with those sorry people who come to the temple to have their problems fixed—the one where his eyes will crease, and his lips will stretch just far enough to curl at the edges and betray him. 

This time, when he touches you, you accept it by lying still and spreading your legs. 

Vowing to both him and yourself that you’ll never be so dumb as to go against him ever again.

♡ Sukuna

You don’t dare fight him at the start, nor do you run. You don’t even dare think about it.

Tales of the king of curses made you more than willing to bend over backward if it meant staying alive. And somehow, it’s enough to get in his good graces. 

It’s not without sacrifice, of course, being his concubine. He’s not the easiest to please. But watching the way he cuts others into pieces before setting those pieces ablaze, you figure catering to the monster is better than being his prey.

You might be his favorite for now, but you know you’re not any special. That’s to say, you don’t think he’d spare you if you tried running away. In fact, you’re quite sure he’d set his domain off and level everything within a mile’s radius.

Again, not because you’re anything special to him, just out of principle. 

You’ve seen him do worse for less. In the end, all that really matters to him is that his word is law, and if anyone goes against it, they pay the hefty toll of death by utter annihilation.

You know this, and yet as the months go by and you grow more comfortable by the day, you do end up becoming a little brazen. A little naughty. A little too naughty for your own good, maybe... Walking about in expensive silk and jewels, wicked smiles, and coy catlike eyes, playing games with the king of curses and deadly poisons as if you’ve become immune.

“What would you do without me, huh?” you drawl, lying on top of his naked chest, softly lulled by the rise and fall of his breathing while listening to his heartbeat betray the fact that he is, in fact, still somewhat human.

The two of you had just finished up, now lying sweaty in the afterglow. He’s got an arm propped up behind him against the headboard. The other three he keeps on you, petting your skin. Cuddling.

He quirks his brow down at you but neither of his faces react much, regarding you like the silly creature you are and talking to you just so,  “Going somewhere, are you?”

You trace the black ink on his chest. “Oh, you never know... One of these days, I might just run away. Never to be seen again. Leave you here with your dick in your hand.” Your finger reaches the apex of his chest, giving it a tap while you look back up at him, a sly smirk on your lips. “Or, well… dicks in your hands.”

His eyes, all four, squint while eyeing you.

“Are you now…”

There’s a sudden rush, you don’t know where you are for a second or what’s happened. Getting your bearings, you realize you’ve been spun on your back, still in bed, though now lying beneath him.

He seems much bigger this way, terribly big, caging you with his four arms.

“I was…” Your voice comes out as a whimper this time, stripped of all things insolent, now weak and soaked in building fear. “I was just… joking. I didn’t mean anything by it… I–”

“You didn’t mean anything by it, huh?” he cuts you off, leaning down until his head’s next to yours, breaths warm and heavy, hitting your neck and chest.

You squeeze your eyes shut, frozen in place, thinking his teeth are next, knowing he’s no stranger to the taste of meat, knowing he has the palate for it.

His mouth brushes your throat. His teeth follow shortly, gracing your jugular.

But, right before he’s about to puncture your skin comes a chuckle instead, then a whisper, “I’m just fucking with you, brat.” 

The bite still comes, but it's barely hard enough to be called that. Just enough to make a bruise, but nothing you’re not used to.

Still, having your life flash before your eyes is not something you recover from quickly, keeping your breath caught in your throat, just beneath the spit and sting left there by him, leaving you mute.

He, however, is feeling uncharacteristically chatty.

“Not that it would matter either way…” He draws back with a smile, leering down at you with an amused expression written plainly across both his faces, stroking your cheek with his thumb, making your breath stay stuck. “You wouldn’t even be able to leave this room, let alone this temple, without me knowing about it.”

His lower arms lift your thighs and spread them. You only now realize he’s hard again.

“But, to humor your question, if you ever dared leave me…” His grip tightens, his black nails sinking into the doughy flesh. “Well, I’d simply haf’to bring you back, now wouldn’t I?”

His grip seizes, turning gentle again. And your brows furrow, needing to blink.

That’s a little boring, you almost say, only to realize you’re able to breathe again. “You wouldn’t punish me?”

He smiles warmly, admiring the confused pout on your face while rubbing soothing circles over the moondents he left on the insides of your thighs.

“Nah…”

His softness is a little offputting, and so still makes you shiver as one of his upper hands slips down between you and starts playing with you all leisurely.

You only barely get the question out, “Why not?”

He hums, entering you with his fingers, feeling the silky slick left there from before, something proud written on his face. His voice is something nearly unrecognizable with what he says next, though, you suppose, he’d already been acting unlike himself. “If you rip just one petal off a flower, it loses all its beauty.” 

Your breath stops short again, this time for a different reason.

He thumbs your cheek, then curls his digits inside you, making you keen. 

He smiles in return, then says, “And I prefer you just the way you are.”

And it might just be the scariest thing to ever leave the tip of his tattooed tongue. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to breathe again.

“Don’t get me wrong, though, pretty flower,” he continues with a grin, feeling your walls clench around him. “The thing is, no matter where you go, no matter how far, and no matter how well you hide. I’d still find you.”

His hand then goes from your cheek to thumbing your chin—still just as deceptively softly, whispering just so, “Even if I’d haf’to obliterate every last person on earth to get to you. It wouldn’t matter.”

You swallow thickly at that, feeling his lips ghost yours, feeling some of that brazenness return for some reason, making you whisper back at him. “You’re crazy.”

He hums out a chuckle again. “Mh, to push me that far… I’d say you’re the crazy one.”

♡ Yuji Itadori

He doesn’t listen.

He’s like Gojo in that regard. He doesn’t take you seriously.

With his view of life and his knowledge of real horror, he doesn’t take anything seriously anymore.

His life is a waking nightmare, and you? You’re his sitcom.

You thought he was going to be gentle your first time together. And he was, sure, to some degree. He’d prepped you on his fingers and tongue first. Having taken his time with it, getting you puffy, wet, and hot to go. 

You’d been ready, feeling good, sitting on the bed, watching him undress, smiling and happy, biting your lip as he lifted his shirt off, revealing his chest and all those perfectly cut muscles of his. 

Everything was going well at the start. But that’s not to say he didn’t totally bulldoze you in the end...

His sweats were next, and you felt your lower belly do somersaults, needing him like you’d never needed anything else.

But then, when he dropped his boxers, and you finally saw the sheer size of him, you could only reel back in silent shock.

Eyes round and glossy in the dim light, switching between looking up at him and it as if your stare alone could keep it at arm’s length. 

You swallowed thickly, trying to ease the sudden pang of anxiety, making your heart shudder in your chest. But it was to no use. When he took a step toward you, you couldn’t help but bring your knees up to your chin, as if on instinct, locking your thighs together before shaking your head.

“That’s not gonna fit—I was wrong, I’m not ready.”

To which he only blatantly disregarded with a smile, “Pff, don’t worry.” Shaking his head right back at you with a chuckle, then insisting with casual neglect, “It’ll fit.”

Still, watching him climb after you on the bed, you shuffled backward away from him and the threat pointing right at you, repeating, “No, I’m serious, I’m not ready.”

“Baby, relax,” he drawled, stroking his rough hands up and down your thighs to comfort you. “Trust me, alright? I’m gonna make you feel real’ good,” he promised with a wink, hooking his beefy arms under your legs and, without further warning, parting them and pulling you closer, making your back hit the bed with a bounce.

The impact made you blink, and when your eyes opened again, you were all but face to face with it—the massive thing bobbing above your belly, struggling to carry its own weight, and even larger up close.

Honest to god, it must be the size of your forearm. No doubt, it’s going to tear you in two.

Your entire system goes into full alarm. And again, you repeat, now with urgency, “No, Yuji, really, that’s not gonna fit–”

This time, he just laughs—as if you’re only cracking a joke and the laugh track within his head is going nuts.

“You’re supposed to squeeze a baby through here,” he smiles, already pressing the tip against your wet entrance. “Compared to that, this’ll be nothing.”

♡ Toji, Mahito, Yuta, Naoya, & Megumi coming...

♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[unknown-lab]

Saja Boys when they see you talking to some other boy band

Pairing: Saja Boys x fem!reader (Separate) Genre: angst? (They have a crush on you but you don't know it) A/N: It's been so long since I last wrote something, and my creativity is so limited after stressing about my studies. Btw I graduated high school yayy

Comments and reblogs will be appreciated 💕

You — fondly known as the “pretty mother” (you're about the same age as them) of the Saja Boys — had pulled off the impossible: securing a collaboration with a top-tier boy group that once reigned as Korea’s No.1 before the Saja Boys even debuted. It was a deal you were immensely proud of, not just because of the prestige, but because of how difficult their managing company was to deal with. The higher-ups were notoriously jealous of the Saja Boys' rising popularity, often making life miserable for their own team just to stay competitive.

But as always, you — the ever-patient, kind-hearted manager, the mother of your boys — bore the brunt of the negotiations, pushing through relentless obstacles, so your boys could have a smoother, brighter future in the cutthroat K-pop industry.

And now, here you were — standing with the rival group’s manager (who had become more of a reluctant ally), reviewing schedules for an upcoming variety show. But instead of the gratitude or excitement you'd hoped for, the Saja Boys watched from a distance, clearly... not impressed.

Jinu

Jinu couldn’t help but furrow his brows as he watched you laugh — actually laugh — while talking to them. Those so-called idols, those polished, plastic things from the rival group. You were smiling, eyes crinkling in that rare way that even the Saja Boys hardly got to see. Not because you didn’t care to show them your lovely side, but because you're too overworked every time you are with them. But of course, Jinu didn’t quite get that — all he saw was you giving them what he wished you’d give him.

Without a word, he walked over and dropped himself into the seat beside you, letting his knee brush deliberately against yours. The contact was subtle, but intentional. You, ever the cautious professional — the manager of Korea’s most beloved boy band — instinctively shifted away, just enough to keep the tabloids at bay.

Jinu caught that. His eyes narrowed for a split second, but he kept his expression in check, smiling politely at the rivals like this was just business. Professionalism, after all. But inside, it was getting harder to keep it together. Every second of that meeting dragged like a knife along glass.

He tried — more than once — to politely wrap things up, throwing in the occasional, “Well, we should get going soon,” or “Don’t want to overstay our time, right?” But every time, you waved him off, too caught up in whatever ideas you, and they were bouncing around. And all Jinu could do was sit there, smiling a lie.

"Jinu, what was that all about?" you snapped the moment you were finally out of earshot.

Two long, exhausting hours of smiling and civil talk, all undone by him acting like a sulky child the entire time. Your cheerful facade had dropped the second the meeting ended, replaced by a deep frown that made your irritation loud and clear. You stormed ahead, widening the space between you both with every step. He kept catching up easily, thanks to those unfairly long legs of his, which only made you more annoyed.

“Were they really that good-looking for you to be all smiley from start to finish?” Jinu asked, voice light, followed by a forced chuckle, trying, and failing, to mask the unease brewing beneath his cool exterior.

You stopped in your tracks. “Yes, they are,” you shot back, whirling around to face him. “So would you kindly stop interfering with everything I’m doing for your benefit?”

Then, with all the sarcasm you could summon, you flashed him your brightest, fakest smile — the kind so unnerving even Gwi-Ma would’ve taken a step back.

Jinu’s smile faltered. His lips pressed into a tight line. “No… not that smile,” he mumbled, voice quieter. “I want the one you gave them earlier.”

You blinked, surprised for half a second by the sudden softness in his voice. The leader of the Saja Boys now sounded less like a composed idol and more like a child begging for attention, or worse, a boy aching for affection he didn’t know how to ask for.

You exhaled, irritation mixing with exhaustion. “...Stop following me,” you said firmly, turning your back on him. “And go practice your choreography. I have more important things to deal with than babysitting your ego.”

And with that, you walked away, leaving Jinu standing alone in the hallway, holding onto the weight of a smile that didn’t belong to him.

Baby (He's my bias)

Baby wasn’t the type to feel things.

At least, not in the way humans did — not the wild rollercoaster of emotion they seemed to ride so easily. His expression rarely changed unless it's stage-required. His voice stayed flat, steady. Highs and lows didn’t reach him. That’s how he was built.

But ever since you entered his field of vision — whether you were laughing, scolding, or just walking past him — he felt it. Something. A subtle throb in his chest, like a warning or a pull. It didn’t matter if it was good or bad, soft or sharp — if you were there, it was there.

And right now? It was fire.

“What’s this?”

Baby’s jaw clenched ever so slightly as he caught sight of that guy — one of the members from whatever group this was — leaning in way too close to you, tossing out flirtatious lines like confetti. And there you were, smiling and nodding politely, playing along like the ever-professional manager you were.

You weren’t interested, Baby knew that much, but watching you entertain that flirting for the sake of diplomacy lit something sharp and burning in his chest.

He walked over, expression unreadable, and casually dropped himself on the couch to your right. Slouching back, he stretched his left arm across the top of the couch, just behind your shoulders, not quite touching you, but close enough to claim space around you.

“Oh! Baby Saja! It’s such an honor to meet you!” one of the rappers exclaimed, eyes sparkling with admiration. He had clearly been a fan for a long time.

Unfortunately for him, Baby didn’t even look in his direction, just gave a curt nod before grabbing a bag of chips off the table and tearing it open. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. You tried to keep your cool, and focused on business. But Baby didn’t make it easy.

“Y/N, eat some.”

“Want me to feed you?”

“This tastes good.”

One interruption after another — a childish war waged in crunches and commentary — all aimed at pulling your attention away from them.

You shot him a sharp glare, your lips tightening in a forced smile as you continued your pitch. You wanted to yell at him. God, you wanted to tell him to read the damn room. But you couldn’t — that would be breaking your professionalism, too.

So instead, you endured the battle of chips echoing beside you like a passive-aggressive soundtrack.

The moment the rival group left the room and the door shut behind them, you turned to him — no more filters, no more smiles.

“For fxxk’s sake, Baby, next time just leave me alone when I’m working.” The words hit like a slap. His hand froze halfway to the chip bag, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“I just wanted to share some with you…” he muttered, suddenly small. The fire inside him — that rage, that jealousy — all shrank down into confusion. He didn’t know what this feeling was. He didn’t understand why seeing someone else near you made his chest feel like it was being crushed.

In the demon realm, feelings like this weren’t taught — only how to survive.

“Go share with whatever, whoever you want, Abby, Mystery, I don’t care. I hate chips.”

You rolled your eyes, snatched the last sip of your green tea with more force than necessary, and stormed out of the meeting room, slamming the door on whatever childish stunt he thought this was.

And Baby sat there, chip bag forgotten in his lap, staring at the closed door like he’d just lost something he didn’t even know he had.

Mystery

You’ve barely heard him speak — at least, not to you. Mystery only ever opened his mouth when it was work-related, usually with Jinu or the others. Around you? He was silent. Polite. Distant. Sometimes, you wondered if he actually hated you.

So when he walked into the meeting room that day, casual and unreadable as always, it was nothing new. The others greeted him with the usual mix of respect and camaraderie — all he did was nod.

And then he sat. Right beside you. Quietly. Like some perfectly trained dog who knew how to behave when guests were around.

But the problem wasn’t him. Not yet. The problem was the guy sitting on your other side — one of the new members from the guest group, who had been inching closer to you every five minutes like it was some sort of stealth mission. You didn’t pay him much mind, too focused on keeping the discussion flowing with their leader. You didn’t even notice the way his shoulder leaned in, or the glance he gave your neckline.

But Mystery noticed.

And the moment that man’s hand reached up and casually brushed a loose strand of your hair — that was the last straw.

Smack.

The sound of Mystery slapping the guy’s hand away echoed louder than it should have. The whole room fell silent. You froze mid-sentence. Everyone stared.

Mystery, still expressionless, muttered: “There was a mosquito.”

You turned your glare on him so sharp it could've sliced through stone. Your eyes told him this is an important meeting, and you’re ruining it. His brain finally caught on, and he sat stiffly in place.

But it didn’t end there. Oh no. Throughout the meeting, he kept jumping into conversations, interrupting at the worst times, and making sarcastic remarks under his breath. And the worst part? He genuinely thought he was helping. He thought you were annoyed at them.

Meanwhile, all you wanted… was for him to just leave the damn room.

When the meeting finally wrapped up, you sent off the group with your brightest, most painfully fake smile. Then you turned on him the second the door shut.

“Mystery, what the fuck?” you snapped, slamming your clipboard onto the table. “Aren’t you usually quiet? Why are you making my life harder today?”

He blinked at you. Processing. Silently. Inside, his mind was spiraling.

She hates when I talk? Wait—so if I stay quiet, she won’t be mad...?

Romance had told him once, “Girls like it when you’re protective. Jump in when some guy gets too close. Be the cold, mysterious type, then bam, heroic move.” But Romance didn’t mention anything about the girl turning into a raging storm after.

Maybe Romance was wrong. Or perhaps he was just bad at it.

Either way, he decided then and there — maybe it's better to go back to the version of himself you never noticed. The quiet one. The unreadable one. The Mystery. Because apparently, the moment he opened his mouth... he just became a nuisance to you.

Abby

"Abby, no. I don't want to touch your abs. And I'm definitely not looking at them."

You didn’t even try to mask your irritation anymore. Abby was clinging to you again, draped over your arm like an overgrown child.

You were exhausted. Weeks of prepping for this crucial meeting with the rival group had you barely functioning — sleepless nights, caffeine-fueled days, and more stress than your body could reasonably handle.

And Abby… wasn’t helping. At all. If anything, he made things worse.

The other Saja Boys, at least, knew to give you space. They could tell just from looking at you — the dark circles under your eyes, the tightness in your voice, the way you snapped at anything that moved too fast. But not Abby.

He’d been in your room nearly every night these past few weeks, hovering, lounging, existing — claiming the foot of your bed or slumping over your desk like a cat. No reason. No invitation. You told him to leave. You tried to push him out. He never listened. Eventually, you just… gave up and let him be.

From his side, things looked different. Romance had told him once: "When a girl is stressed, she just needs someone to talk to. Be there for her. Don’t leave her alone."

And Abby — sweet, literal Abby — had taken those words as gospel. So when you raised your voice? He thought you were venting. When you kicked him out? He thought it meant stay. He thought maybe… you needed him.

But now?

After a grueling meeting, after you’d smiled through clenched teeth and juggled chaos for hours, the last thing you needed was him joking around. The moment the guests left, you turned to him, expression blank, voice flat.

"Abby, has anyone ever told you that you’re fucking annoying?" You stared him down, the exhaustion in your eyes cutting deeper than your words.

He froze, stunned like someone just pulled the ground out from under him. It took a few seconds for the words to land, to make sense.

'I’m… annoying?'

But by the time he opened his mouth to respond, you were already gone — marching out with your clipboard and files in hand, your back turned, your patience snapped.

And Abby just stood there, alone in the quiet room, his arms falling to his sides, staring at your back that turned to him without regret.

Romance

"That’s a lovely hairstyle,” Romance said coolly, resting his chin on his palm. “But I think she likes mine more than yours.”

His eyes locked onto the guy sitting a little too close to you, not that it was actually close, but for Romance, even a few inches felt like a threat. His voice was laced with teasing, but that sharp glare beneath his lashes gave him away.

He wasn’t jealous.

…Okay, maybe a little.

…Okay, he was jealous.

You hadn’t even noticed the so-called offense. You were busy, focused, managing things like you always did — and Romance was supposed to be quiet like he promised. But now he was nudging your arm, voice honey-sweet:

“Oh, it’s almost time for our date, darling. Don’t you want to go get ready now?” You turned sharply and shoved his arm off yours, glaring daggers at him.

“What do you want?” you hissed under your breath, leaning in close while the others kept talking with their manager. Your tone was low and deadly, your eyes demanding an answer.

“You.” He winked. And that? That was the spark that lit the fuse. You sucked in a sharp breath, gripping your clipboard like a weapon.

“Shut the fuck up. I’ll deal with you later.” You turned away before you said something worse, forcing a smile back onto your face and jumping right back into the conversation with the rival group.

Later, when the guests had finally left, you started tidying the room — roughly. Slamming down documents, yanking off power cords, wiping the table down like it had insulted your ancestors.

“Leave your flirting skills to your fans,” you snapped, flipping the light switch off with too much force. You didn’t even look at him as you stormed out of the room, hoping your exit would finally shake him off.

“But—”

“No buts! Just leave me alone!” you exploded, spinning around to face him. “I have a boyfriend, Romance.”

It came out in a rush. A lie. A sharp, stupid, panicked lie you threw out like a smoke bomb, just to make him back off.And for once… it worked. You left. He didn’t follow. Romance stood there, frozen, your words replaying over and over in his head.

I have a boyfriend, Romance.

He wasn’t sure what hurt more — the fact that you didn’t trust him to be serious, or the idea that maybe… just maybe… someone else had already taken the place he desperately wanted to stand in.

Mwah thank you so much for reading <3 Took me quite some time cuz I movie didn't give us enough character development... I literally had to make scenarios in my head to fall asleep every night just to get ideas AAHHHHHHH. Aight gotta start writing all of your requests ^^

[karaeilish]

hi! could u write y/n calling billie another girls name while making out to prank her, but billie gets all possesive and fucks her dumb with the strap telling her to scream her name

⌗ WRONG, SLUT ━━ b. eilish

꩜ pairing & au :: fuckboy!billie x fem!reader

꩜ GENRE :: smut .

꩜ SYNOPSIS :: you need to be careful with pranking your girlfriend. especially when she knows how to tie tight knots. . .

꩜ WARNINGS :: smut . degradation . strap (r receiving) . mean!billie . tying up . rough sex . brat!reader . bil slapping r . red flag (?) billie . ꩜ WORD COUNT :: 1,5k

꩜ A/N — PLEASE . don’t copy & steal my works AND my layouts . m doing everything by myself and m not giving you any rights 🤍

billie was an absolute piece of shit. always. no matter how much you said 'i can fix her', no matter how much you tried to explain to her while she was high or drunk, nothing worked. every attempt was in vain, every time she would hang around other girls, courting them as if she could find someone better, more beautiful or more interesting than you. you both knew the answer to that question, she just couldn't get rid of the desire to own everyone, crawling to you on her knees the next day like a lost puppy. no matter how much she wanted it, you had no choice but to take her back, listening to her promises not to do it again.

and billie got used to your compliance, used to you always playing the 'good girl' and letting her do all the shit she does. she liked to have it all at once, everyone she wanted, while having you by her side, always forgiving. always too lenient with her. but no nerves are made of steel. at some point you got tired of putting up with her shit. you just had to… teach her a lesson. there was no grand plan of revenge from action movies or anything like that in your head, just a harmless prank that you knew would make her flare up.

and despite her behavior, billie took you very seriously, even too seriously. you can't be too nice, too friendly, too talkative with some strangers and not only strangers. she was possessive, she was jealous, she claimed you in front of everyone, although she knew she had no right to it. she acted like a complete idiot and continued to be a fucking child, throwing tantrums every time your hand touched someone’s shoulder.

you argued, quarreled, broke dishes, screamed in an attempt to admit that your opinion was right, but her only fucking argument was always — 'you're fucking mine. no one dares touch you, think about you, desire you, is that clear, darling? i don't care what you want'

your knees just buckled, your tongue went numb, and your body fell back into her arms, onto her cock.

you were her weakness, and she was yours. it was an unbearable tight circle, but that gave you an advantage —you knew her weakest spot, you knew where to hit her hardest to get her mad, so…

"hey, brit, can you—" you don't have time to finish your sentence. billie's eyes are instantly torn from the screen of her phone, her attention completely on you. you can almost feel her heart pounding in her chest.

“what did you just say?” her gaze could almost burn through your skin with its intensity. almost. you look at her so innocently it makes her teeth ache. trying to play the part.

“what? i was gonna ask you to get me some water.” you keep a calm face, raising one eyebrow as if you have no idea what caused her to react so strongly.

“don’t play with me, baby.” billie leans closer to you, squinting, her blue eyes darkening, reminding you of the depths of the pacific ocean. her fingers touch your chin, not squeezing, just letting you feel the pressure of her presence. “y'know that’s not my name.”

you laugh, pulling away from her demonstratively; trying to press even harder.

“since when ‘billie’ isn’t your name? go get your ears cleaned if you can't hear well" the words fall like sticky venom from your lips, accompanied by a caustic wink as you stand up from the couch, throwing your hair back dramatically. as soon as your feet hit the floor, billie is in front of you with inhuman speed, intercepting your hand, thick fingers squeezing your wrist with enough force that you feel her cold rings digging into your skin.

"fine, you want to be a brat? i'll treat you like one" she hisses somewhere against your cheek, her hot breath igniting a raging fire inside you.

"what's wrong with you, brit, i was just—" a lightning-fast slap cuts through the air, landing painfully on your cheek. nothing really cruel, but it quickly made you shut your mouth.

billie doesn't say a word. her nails dug into your wrist as she broke and pulled you towards the bedroom, not particularly gentle as she tossed you onto the large, soft bed. her glance gave you enough reason not to try and question it as she rummaged through the nightstand, and somehow, you knew immediately what she was looking for.

the strap landed on the bed. deep red, huge, thick, veins drawn along its enticing length. it was the largest in your ‘modest’ collection. all the words choked in your throat, remaining buried in your head.

“turn over. on your stomach.” when billie spoke in that tone, the only thing you could understand was that she wasn’t asking. she was commanding. this was not the moment to try to piss her off even more, but she deserved it. deserved to be mad at you, deserved to feel like she wasn’t the only woman in your life. you stay still. silent. sitting and looking at her.

billie meets your gaze. wild. the rope in her hands can tell you so much more than any words. and no matter how much you don’t want it, her strength is several times greater than yours.

she throws heather next to her, her calloused hands wrap around your waist, with a sharp movement turning you over onto your stomach. you resist, trying to turn over, but the force with which she holds you…

"lie still, slut. you wanted this, didn't you? no point in denying it now" her rough voice suddenly touches your ear, teeth grazing over sensitive skin. "say 'no' and i'll stop"

you remain silent.

she acts.

"that's what i thought" billie grins. grins because she knew for a fact that sometimes you wanted nothing more than her cock buried in your greedy cunt until you had her fucking baby.

the thick rope seems like the perfect weapon in her hands as she wraps a section around the headboard, then roughly grabs your hands one by one and ties them so tightly you want to cry.

"you have nowhere to run, princess" her hands are now on your stomach, forcing you to lift your torso off the bed, giving her a perfect view of your ass in those damn short shorts that was in the corner of the room in seconds. along with your soaking wet panties.

"fuck, are you wet already? after i slapped you, mm?" her palm lands on your ass with a loud slap, making you scream loudly, pulling the ropes until it hurts pleasantly. "or after i took you by force, like a cheap whore?"

all the existing billie right now is leaking poison, contempt, anger, which can only be cured in one way. by destroying you and your angelic body.

you whine, pouting, as if that can somehow help in your situation. as if something will save you from her wrath. no. from behind you you hear the sounds of a belt unbuckling, of it coming out of all its loops, falling onto the bed. billie unbuttons her baggy jeans, not even taking them off all the way. just pushes her boxers down, deftly securing the strap to her hips.

"time to learn to spell my name, doll" she spits on her hand, smearing it all over her cock, moaning so sweetly that you can almost believe that she feels it.

a hand on your throat, squeezing, choking, while she pushes into you, almost gently, giving you half a second to get used to her size. your pussy stretches around her thick strap, mouth opening, letting the long-awaited moans fly from your lips.

"so who's this slut whose name are you calling me by?" her hips suddenly start moving, not letting you get used to her pace, which within seconds had the headboard slamming against the wall. her hips slapped against yours, her fingers tightening around your throat.

"answer me, bitch" billie slaps you again, alternating them with cutting off your oxygen.

you struggle, you wanna make her suffer and wonder, like you did, but she's too, too deep in your tummy for you to even try to resist.

"n—nobody! just you!" there was barely a shred of self-respect left in your voice, the tip of her strap hitting your cervix with every damn thrust. billie smirks. of course, you're too loyal to look at anyone but her.

"just me, doll?" pause. long, painful. "then scream my name like an obedient little slut"

you whine. this is too much. she's too big inside you. you can't resist anymore.

"billie…!"

"louder"

"billie!"

♱ tags; @billiesbabygirll, @amara-eilish, @st0nerlesb0, @bxllxebxtch @mystiquemm, @bilswifee, @dragoneyelashart, @bilssturns, @chrissv4mp, @allyeilishh, @bitchesbrokenpromises, @too-sapphic-to-function, @thefeverburningalive, @peytonglazesbillieeilish, @1nn3rthOughts, @thebluediner, @xiletay, @eilishsfantasy, @ariieeesworld, @peytonneilish, @clairrehwart, @emi-inspace, @ilomilobabyy, @aka-persephone, @hanoxoxo

[beast3end]

Tears don't suit you

Summary: They find you in tears during a quarrel with your father. Characters: Riddle Rosehearts x reader (Riddle Rosehearts & reader), Leona Kingscholar x reader (leona kingscholar & reader) WC: 1,4K CW: gn!reader; there may be mistakes in the text because English is not my native language; this headcanon can be romantic or platonic - as you wish!

Riddle Rosehearts:

You're missing.

Riddle should get used to the fact that you can appear out of nowhere and disappear into nowhere, like Chenya, but he can't. Especially when a well - known duo of offenders disappears besides you - you, quiet, not particularly sociable, always get into trouble with them.

More precisely, you try to get the Adeuce out of these troubles, but being so weak, you end up up to your ears in trouble yourself.

Riddle can't help but worry about you — even before his overblot, you were in his good standing due to your calm and obedient disposition.

...Therefore, when he does find you, he falls into a stupor.

You… Are you crying? You cry quietly, lowering your head low in front of a man who looks like you. It seems to be your father.

Well, his presence here is not surprising — today was the day when anyone could enter the college of the night raven. Usually, families do not miss such a chance to see their children.

But still, why?

"I can't get through to you forever! Why did I buy you a phone? So that you can play your games?"

"I set it to silent in class and just sometimes forget to switch back—"

"You keep forgetting everything! Seventeen years, and there were no brains, and they did not appear. And stop whining already, I'm explaining everything to you as it is. How did you even get to your age with such a character? You always start crying when I criticize you. Look into my eyes, you whiner!"

That was the most inappropriate word to describe you.

No matter how much Riddle thought about it, he couldn't remember a single time when you cried in the Harstlabule. Even in your first year, when, according to others, he "terrorized" the dormitory and was still a tyrant. Even when students from other dormitories saw you as an easy target for bullying and you didn't think to respond to them in any way. Even…

When the overblot swallowed him up, you tried to do everything in your power.

Riddle saw an unwavering spirit in you.

The one that was being trampled into the ground. You were being crushed and you couldn't say anything in response.

Riddle cleared his throat loudly, drawing attention to himself. His heart sank into his stomach at the startled look you gave him.

The man, who had been looking at you with a mixture of severity and anger, instantly changed, smiling at Rosehearts.

"I'm sorry," the man apologized when Riddle began to approach you. "You came running at the noise, didn't you? [Name] said that no one was here at this time, but apparently they forgot… Once again."

Riddle pursed his lips, struck by a sudden realization. The way you flinched at first when he yelled at the offenders… And the way you were doing it now, when your father was raising his voice…

Did you see your father in him?

A very unpleasant discovery.

"The rule of the Queen of Hearts 811…"

"What?"

Riddle sighed through his teeth. He couldn't believe he was saying this, but even more he didn't want to believe that he should just walk away and leave you alone.

"The rule of the Queen of Hearts 811: no card soldier should bow his head and listen… Criticism from no one but his queen"

After finishing this sentence (with too much effort for himself), Riddle quickly grabs your wrist and drags you away. It seems to shock your father so much that he doesn't even mind when you disappear into the maze of the garden.

Riddle doesn't turn around, but he hears your soft sobs.

He doesn't say anything. Unfortunately, he had never been taught to comfort other people, and he had never thought about it himself.

Riddle will fix it. Later. But now…

"...Housewarden, isn't the queen's rule 810?"

...He needs to find a way out of the situation.

Leona Kingscholar:

He was the very first to return to college from winter break. Well, or so Leona thought for a while.

The first thing he heard was rapid breathing, the second was the muffled voice of an unknown man. This voice definitely did not belong to any of the teachers. After a second, he realized that this man was not here, but was just coming from someone's phone.

He has sharp hearing, you know?

Anyway, it's none of his business. Leona was going to head to the hostel and sleep — he was unbearably tired during these holidays, the Checka squeezed all the juices out of him. But…

He casually glanced at this source of noise as he passed by, and immediately stopped.

Uh. So it's you.

Not surprising. You always managed to make a fuss, even when you tried to be quiet. Leona could hear you laughing even from his room when you were chatting with Jack on the street. Even your heartbeat is always amazingly loud when he used you as a pillow. You're loud, cheerful, clumsy…

Now she was standing in the hallway and trying to swallow her tears, not wanting to give away her condition to the person on the other side of the tube. You were so caught up in this activity that you still haven't noticed it.

Leona… To say the least, he is unhappy. In all the three years that you've known each other, he's never seen you in tears. You laughed even when you got bruised; even when a disk accidentally flew into your forehead and split your eyebrow.

The next second, he was frowning, and the tail was furiously flapping behind him. He listened to what the man was saying.

These were outright insults. Sometimes his voice would get louder and you would flinch.

"You should use your brain at least once in a while. Sometimes it seems to me that you are of the same development as a nine-year-old child, although he will be smar-"

Leona snatches the phone out of your hands and hangs up. You stare at the blank screen in fright, then turn your gaze to the beastman and swallow.

"It's been a long time, Leona. You came back toda-"

"What was that just now?" he growls and you see how his ears are pressed to the top of his head.

Is he, is he angry? Did you do something wrong? I probably should have gone straight out into the courtyard so as not to attract attention, but how could you have known that the headman of Savanclaw would also arrive today?

"Just a lecture from my father. I made a mistake again and—" "What did you do?" "What?" "What mistake did you make?"

You fell silent, looking down at the floor. Leona chuckled—you didn't even understand why you were being insulted!

"It's none of your business. Return the phone, my father will definitely be even more angry that I smugly dropped the ca-"

At the same moment, the phone in his hands rang. The number that appeared on the screen was unfamiliar and Leona could only grin — you, who had no problem handing out your number to first-year students if they needed help, and also wrote down their numbers, did not bother to write down your own father's number.

Without thinking for a second, he turns off the phone. He won't be calling now.

"Leona!"

At first he thinks of throwing the phone into the bush, but then he just hides it in his pants pocket. He could have bought you a new one, but then listen to you whine about all sorts of photos and profiles in video games? Fire me.

"Leona!!!"

"Hush. I want to sleep, so let's go."

"But Father—"

"Tell him everything as it is. If he has any objections, I'll be happy to listen to them," he interrupts you with the most smug expression you've ever seen on his face.

Well, your father really can't say anything about it. Not when his opponent is the second prince of Sunset Savanna…

[steddieas-shegoes]

the necklace

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'the cutting edge'

rated m | 983 words | cw: implied/referenced drug use, implied sexual content | tags: rock star eddie, famous corroded coffin, figure skater steve, flirting

also on ao3

⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️⛸️

Figure skating competitions aren’t exactly their thing. They’re about as out of place as Wayne was when he went to Coachella to watch Corroded Coffin headline the big stage.

But world champion and two time gold medalist Steve Harrington is using their song for his little routine, so obviously they need to be there to support him. That’s what Chrissy said, at least.

“It’ll look good for you to be there,” she’d said when Eddie tried to argue that they would be wasting time and money. “And anything we can do to make you look good is important.”

And he couldn’t argue that because, well. He fucked up.

Got caught doing lines off the back of a toilet at a club with two women sucking him off. Rockstar stuff. Something he really never did and of course one of the few times, he got caught. There were pictures.

Chrissy has been in recovery mode for the entire band ever since.

They’ve been doing anti-drug campaigns for schools as if that’s even an effective way to keep the youths from getting high on whatever they can find. Eddie made an official statement on camera about practicing safe sex and apologizing for taking advantage of the women who most definitely were there willingly. The band issued a statement that Eddie was on a short leash and if another incident occurred, he’d be on his way to rehab.

Which is dumb because he doesn’t have a drug problem, or a sex addiction, or anything the tabloids say. The guys know that. Chrissy knows it. But they have to do whatever will keep them in a positive light so they can book arenas on their next tour.

Apparently, going to this skating competition will help.

It’s not boring, surprisingly. It’s just not how Eddie wants to spend his Friday.

He watched a few of Steve’s routines in preparation.

The guy is hot. Like, really hot. Somehow very muscular and light on his feet at the same time. Eddie can see why he’s so popular.

What shocks him most is that Steve usually dances to pop songs and 80s ballads for his competition routines and suddenly he decides to bring out one of their slower, but still dark songs. It doesn’t make sense.

Until it does.

When Steve takes the ice, the crowd stands, cheers so loud it makes Eddie’s chest vibrate. He doesn’t expect it, and it’s clear Gareth, Frankie, and Jeff don’t either. He’s in all black, only one small piece of color standing out.

A red guitar pick necklace.

Eddie’s head turns to Chrissy, who is conveniently ignoring him.

He turns back to watch as the music starts. He wrote this song with Jeff, fucking around in the back of his van when they were still just trying to book whatever bar would have them. It evolved into something else when they actually got to record it in a real studio, something more haunting and liminal when compared to the rest of their track list.

Steve glides across the ice, jumps and falls perfectly in sync to the crescendo of the guitar and drum solo. Eddie’s fascinated, can’t look away from the masterpiece happening in front of him. He almost can’t believe he gets to see someone make such beautiful art from their song.

When Steve stops, Eddie stands and yells, clapping louder than everyone around him.

“I need to see him,” he says to Chrissy when the announcers have given the scoring that places him in first. “Can you get me down there?”

She smirks and nods, like she’s planned this exact reaction. She couldn’t have.

Could she?

***

The medal ceremony is long, but watching Steve take gold is a memory Eddie will have forever.

Chrissy does manage to bring them all down to congratulate him after he does media. He looks worn out by the time he gets to them, still in his outfit and skates.

Still wearing Eddie’s necklace.

“How did you get that?” Eddie asks instead of saying hello or congratulations.

Steve smirks. “Pulled some strings.”

He starts to take it off, but Eddie stops him. The room goes silent.

“Looks pretty good next to that gold medal. You should keep it,” Eddie doesn’t know what he’s saying. That’s his lucky necklace. He hasn’t gone onstage without it in years. “Maybe it’ll bring you more gold.”

“Ah, well. I’m retiring. These knees aren’t gonna hold out much longer,” Steve half-jokes. “Plus, it’s time to let others shine.”

“But you’re so talented!”

“I’ll coach for a bit. Pass it on. That’s the beauty of the sport,” Steve explains.

He’s so pretty. Eddie wants to stare at him all night.

“Jesus, he’s embarrassing,” Gareth says behind him.

“What?” Eddie turns, glaring at him.

“You said it out loud, dumbass.”

Eddie turns bright red. “Oh.”

Steve steps closer, a solid two inches taller than him in his skates. He smiles down at Eddie.

“Let me get changed and have my coach find us a spot for dinner. Wouldn’t want you to have to stop staring.”

Eddie’s never been charmed like this before. He feels faint.

“Yeah! Okay. The guys can just head back to the hotel or whatever,” Eddie tries to sound nonchalant, fails.

“Oh my god,” Frankie groans. “Please don’t do something stupid.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Steve promises, never taking his eyes off Eddie. “Wouldn’t want him to get distracted before I can get my mouth on him.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and Chrissy claps her hands once.

“Alright! Have fun! Be safe! Save it for a hotel room!”

She ushers the guys away quickly and Eddie’s grateful for it. They shouldn’t see him blundering this.

Steve leans in and kisses his cheek. “You’re gonna be fun. See you in ten.”

Eddie’s left standing there with pink cheeks and a determination to be fucked within an inch of his life later.

[virtuous-slaughter]

So apparently because I wasn't clear enough,

COPS. DO NOT. BELONG. AT PRIDE. FULL. STOP.

Cops uphold negative systems for the government. I do NOT CARE how a cop identifies, the way the system is and has been forever serves not to protect the people, but to serve the government with cruelty, force, and brutality. That's a horrible thing to willingly participate in. Cops aren't good people, regardless of how they identify. I mean, do we even remember people like George Floyd and Breyonna Taylor? Police brutality, guys. It's still important. And we forgot. We're apathetic. It's time to start caring again.

I don't wanna see a single goddamn cop anywhere near ANY pride parade, or protest, or anywhere, really. Especially not in schools, or in malls, at my job, at summer camps. On civilian roads. The whole system needs to be dismantled, full fucking stop. And if you don't agree with me? You're more than free to carry tf on because I DO NOT CARE what you think, because if you oppose this opinion, shared by MANY which is based in hard facts and experiences, you're just wrong. You get to be wrong. Congratufuckyoulations.

I don't like cops because of how corrupt their system is, and the fact they're aware, and choose to continue on with and uphold it. I don't think you'll find a single actual punk that likes cops, honestly. I don't think anyone who's a cop should feel comfortable in a place like pride. Because they disrupt & hurt our community more often than not. Queer cops shouldn't exist, bc cops shouldn't exist. And if you know ANYTHING about queerness, cops, and their history, you would understand WHY rather than pestering me (just some fucking guy who has a life, btw.) about it.

Furthermore... Statistically, cops commit the most crime. Not so-called criminals. For example, in the USA, in just the past month/two months at time of writing they've literally shot journalists, news reporters, and REGULAR CIVILIANS just trying to go the fuck home and ILLEGALLY BLOCKADING THEM IN on streets to arrest them past "cerfew" at parades and protests. The USA is a fascist dictatorship and all cops are willingly participating in it when they allow violence and brutality to continue.

Your veterans spent all those years fighting nazis and fascism and cracking down on all those "oppressive states" and shit. Look at what the fuck your sorry ass country has become and TRY AGAIN to fucking tell me that cops belong anywhere, anywhere at all. Because they DON'T.

They are unregulated violence machines. They are complacent in murder, in rape, in their own violence and crime. KEEP THOSE FILTHY, ABHORRENT, DANGEROUS PIGS OUT OF MY FUCKING COMMUNITY, AWAY FROM THE WOMEN AND THE CHILDREN.

If you're a cop, know I hate you. More than hate, loathe. Know so many people do not feel SAFE when you're around or disclose your job. Because of what you are upholding. You are not honourable. I do not care how "good" you think you are. I do not care about your gender. I do not care about your orientation. I don't give a single fuck if you have a family. You repulse me.

say it with me now, kids:

COPS DON'T BELONG AT PRIDE

COPS DON'T BELONG AT PRIDE

COPS. DON'T. BELONG. AT. PRIDE!

[yellowf1nch]

Warning: Minors do not interact. Mentions of verbal abuse, physical violence

(Continuation of my previous problematic roommate idea)

[Side note: Roommate will have gone through some version of hate endings for many objects, so there will be spoilers/not quite accurate to Player hate endings ahead, and potentially in relevant follow up posts. Also, I haven't gotten hate endings with a lot of objects so I will be making some of them up (but in my mind they would be slightly different anyway given the circumstances)]

After using the dateviators for a while, you realize that not only does your roommate leave physical messes, but social ones as well. Honestly, you're kind of a shut in, and even when being polite it seems like sometimes you say the wrong thing... But it's clear you're roommate is being destructive on purpose. They ask you if you've seen their sunglasses, and not wanting to lie, you say you've only seen your own around. After all, Skylar chose to be in your care, so technically she was yours now? Needles to say, Roommate started acting a bit more suspicious the following days.

Slowly going through every room, you pick up on just what kind of chaos that's been unfolding. Volt was hesitant to let you into the Breaker Box, but you at least seemed to be polite enough to watch the shows. Penelope, like many, was immediately hostile, thinking you'd be just like your nice-at-first roommate, but started realizing you at least were showing genuine interest in helping her dating life. Ben-Hwa and you have a bit of an awkward standoff, but you actually want to have conversations with them. You actually apologize for any negative feelings you may have inspired. There is a... Lack of animosity from you, but the dateables wonder if the other shoe simply has yet to drop.

Your bedroom was frankly the best place to start. The objects here saw you the most, they knew how much of a strain living with your roommate turned out to be, even before they were in the picture. And, though it was a bit awkward at first, you've managed to secure some amicable bonds there. Surprisingly, the living room was also a safer place. Koa, appreciating your understanding in not wanting to make him talk. Chairemy feeling respected for once, having their boundaries upheld.

Jacques [Short King] has no quarrels declaring your enemy-ship, but his insults fall flatter each time you return his banter... Without insulting him. Cam, as well, finds that you clearly understand not to make him out to be just a trash can. Day by day, you show the dateables that yes, decent humans exist and yes, Roommate is unfortunately an outlier.

You had just come from a show at the Breaker Box (the only one who applauds Johnny when you go), not realizing your roommate had come back earlier than expected from their errand. They see you, with the dateviators perched on your face, and immediately the poison starts dripping from their lips. There's a bit of verbal back and forth, all of the charges for the day used up so you take the glasses off and make sure to keep them close. Your roommate starts yelling at you, screaming at how you stole from them, how awful you are, insult after insult, blaming you for things you didn't do and then some. And when you can get a word in edgewise, you keep your voice calm-- you didn't steal, Skylar chose you. It was her decision after all, not yours, not your roommate's-- but trying to make your way to the kitchen made things take a turn for the worse. Your roommate gets in your face, nose to nose, screaming at you, trying to grab Skylar from your hands, but you don't budge. They lay into you about how glasses can't make decisions, the dateables aren't real, they're "just things."

You shove them back, immediately. Voice raising, "Does it matter what they are? They think, they want, they choose. And none of that can or will be taken from them. Not while I'm here, not while I can help." Your roommate barks a laugh at you, then starts throwing slaps and punches at your face. Holding onto Skylar, you can't protect yourself from every blow, and get knocked down. You keep Skylar out of reach of your roommate, somehow, your other hand trying to push them away. You look around, noticing a vent in the floor [don't know if there are any in game, but there is for plot convenience]. You beg Florence and Hector, not knowing who would respond, to please, please open and take Skylar. It's not about you, or your roommate, it's about keeping everyone safe. The vent pops up, you manage to slide Skylar right in, and after a few blows against you, your roommate has an advantage. They grab a book off the foyer table and strike you over and over.

Eventually they stop. You're bloodied, bruised, and tired. You know you should call someone, the cops or an ambulance, but hearing that the government is looking for the glasses, you don't want to risk anything involving authorities, and you don't want to risk leaving Roommate unsupervised more than you have to. You crawl your way to the bathroom, opening the sink cabinet and grabbing Farya. You've never dealt with these kinds of wounds before, but somehow you lift yourself up to look in the mirror. Despite everything, a small smile tugs at your face.

[kdh-tally]

Romance x Reader Headcannons

Prompt : Headcannons of Romance and his partner

Author's Note : Can you tell who my second favourite Saja Boy is? I love Romance and need more content of him you guys ☹️

You met Romance completely by chance

You were a kpop idol and your group had only debuted a few months earlier.

No massive wins or trophies or anything of the sort but somehow, your company landed you an MC gig at a major end-of-year award show.

It was in hopes to get your group more attention.

You were standing backstage, rereading your cue cards and trying not to pass out due to nerves, when the door opened and in walked him.

Romance. From The Saja Boys.

There was no way he was real.

He had that energy people spoke about.

He was tall, confident, dressed in an all black outfit with silver accents, his fluffy pink hair was perfectly styled, bringing out his eyes.

He seemed to look over the room before focusing on you. He grinned.

“So you’re the rookie idol right?” he asked.

You nodded quickly and bowed. “Y-yes. I’m… I’m honored.”

He smiled, a little surprised but smiled sweetly.

“You don’t have to look so scared, angel.”

You were going to combust. 

He noticed right away that you were shy.

You kept your gaze down, your voice quiet, and clutched your cue cards like they were your life line. 

He was sure you had the words memorized already due to how many times you looked over them.

But when you read your lines during rehearsal, your voice was clear. Calm. Soft but steady. He was immediately intrigued.

“You’re nervous, huh?” he asked “That’s okay, i’ll help you through it”

During the show, he made sure to be a great guide. 

Gently handing you the mic

Smiling in your direction before your lines

Whispering words of encouragement between camera cuts. 

He even made silly jokes to get you more comfortable and make you laugh.

And when you eventually laughed in his direction? It was game over. That was it for him.

After the show ended, you bowed again, more confident this time. “Thank you for helping me tonight sunbaenim.”

“Anytime,” he said, handing you a cherry soda from the catering. “Actually… I was thinking I’d like to help you smile like that more often.”

You nearly dropped the can.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but you had just become Romance’s favorite person in the entire industry.

He loves doting on you. 

Will do anything to see you smile, even if it means acting like a complete clown during practice.

You get flustered so easily and he lives for it.

He sends texts like : 

“Good luck on stage today, angel. Try not to make too many people fall for you today alright?”

And then follow up with a 💋💋 emoji just to mess with you.

Since you’re still a newer idol group, you prefer to keep a super low-profile and try to keep things quiet. 

He’s surprisingly good at respecting that… until he accidentally wears your group’s colors on a livestream and fans notice immediately.

When you both hang out together later you’re covering your face from embarrassment, he gently pulls your hands away.

“Don’t hide from me angel. I like looking at you.”

He’s more of a caller than a texter but you prefer texting over calling. So you both compromise.

He sends you multiple voice notes, knowing just how much you love his voice. 

They’re usually just him humming, singing a few of his lyrics for you, random rants about his day, or compliments.

If you’re sad, he’ll send a 2-minute-long voice memo just going: “Hi. You're my favorite person. That’s all. Okay. Bye. Wait—no, also, you’re cute. Okay now bye. Actually wait–” and he just continues going on like that.

He remembers all your favorite snacks. 

Shows up to music shows with them and slips them to you like it’s a spy exchange.

He finds it fun keeping things a secret.

The first time you initiated physical contact, even though it was just grabbing his sleeve, his whole brain short-circuited. 

He didn’t expect you to make a move.

He then awaits any form of contact from you like a cat. 

Romance is a cat for sure. 

When your group wins their first award, he’s the first person to congratulate you.

He meets up with you secretly at your dorm, peppering your face with kisses.

“I knew you’d do it. So proud of you, angel. I cried a little. Don’t tell the boys.”

He never gets jealous of your fame, but he will get pouty when your company keeps you too busy to text him back.

He also wants to tell everyone you’re together so bad.

“I was thinking we should just tell everyone we’re dating.”

“We are not doing that on Inkigayo day.”

“Okay but, what if we wore matching colors?”

“Romance—”

“They’d never know. Or they’d ALL know. Its a win-win situation.”

He’s touchy when you’re in private backstage. 

Always fixing your mic

Adjusts your accessories

Or even just tucking your hair behind your ear. 

The staff who see this are so in support.

Confession? It happened on your second date.

He was stil getting to know you and had asked about why you wanted to be a kpop idol anyways.

You went on the longest rant. Talking about how you always had a passion for singing and dancing and couldn’t help but admire the many idols you watched every day.

He stopped listening halfway through.

All he could think about was how adorable you looked when so passionate about something.

He wanted to be the first person you ranted to about everything just so he could see your cute face.

“Can i be your boyfriend?” he’d interrupt unconsciously.

His face would turn red after realizing what he said, “T-that slipped out! Please ignore me angel–” 

But you cut him off with a small laugh before agreeing “I’d love that”

He swore his heart fell out of his chest.

He does all the talking when you're around people. 

You stand there politely, maybe giving soft smiles or nods while he speaks.

When you finally do open up, even a little, he absolutely melts.

“I think I just fell in love again.”

Also! When the boys found out here's how it went :

Baby scoffs in disbelief. “You pulled her????? I don’t get why anyone would want to date you…”

“I’m proud of you bro,” Abby nods in approval.

Mystery doesn’t say much but Romance knows he approves. He caught both of you shopping for cute little trinkets one day. Mystery eventually buys both you and Romance couple keychains. He said he’s never seen Romance sit still for more than five minutes, except when he’s waiting for you.

Jinu recognized you from a prior interaction at a performance. He knew you were shy and was a bit surprised you ended up with Romance, the flirt. “I thought they were scared of cameras, turns out they just didn’t want to look at anyone but you.” He’d tease you both.

When asked about his ideal types in interviews he sighs wistfully “Shy. Cute. Soft voice. Gets super shy when I flirt.”

Fans catch on fast.

Especially when they look over clips from when you MC’ed together.

 You two have such different energies that it’s hard not to notice when you interact.

You express your love for him through small, quiet things.

Sharing food.

Fixing his collar.

He especially loves when you hold his pinky under the table.

He expresses love through loud declarations and posting lyrics online that are obviously about you.

He teases you constantly but as soon as you give him a tiny pout, he panics like, “No no no, I’m sorry!! You’re perfect! I love you!”

How your group feels about it!!

Before your first date you were all discussing how crazy everything was.

“Are you sure he’s not just teasing you?”

Your leader gets that protective older sibling energy. 

They know you’re soft-hearted and don't want you to get played, especially by an older idol.

They would watch Romance like a hawk the first few times you two were seen together backstage.

But once they saw how gently he treated you (offering you snacks, never pushing your boundaries, waiting patiently for you to speak), they approved.

Your groups main dancer SCREAMED when they found out. 

"Wait, the flirty guy with the pink hair?? You like that??" they would think for a moment "Actually… okay yeah, I kinda get it."

They constantly tease you about it, always winking when Romance is mentioned.

10/10 ships you both. 

Will start playing Saja Boys songs super loudly in the dorm just to mess with you.

The vocalist, and your closest friend in the group screamed into a pillow when you first told them.

They help you draft texts to him when you’re too nervous to word things perfectly.

You two have sleepovers where you gush about his voice or replay clips where he says your name.

Your groups maknae smirks every time you get a text from him.

“ARE YOU BLUSHINGGG??”

They fully edit videos of your interactions and posts them in your group’s GC.

Overall, they love how he hypes you up, especially since you're so soft-spoken.

“No cause when he said you were the prettiest person he’d ever met on earth on that radio show? I felt like I was gonna cry.”

They're protective, but they’ve also never seen you this happy or confident before.

They think he’s good for you.

He would call you things like :

Angel : All day, everyday. It’s his favorite nickname for you.

Sunshine : When you smile, because he thinks it’s the best thing in the world.

Love : Says it in a lower voice, whenever he wants to make you flustered.

Cutie : Because it’s what you are. 

Y/N-ie : Only in private.

You would call him things like :

Romance-sunbaenim : When you were still getting to know each other. Out of respect (he loved that)

Pretty boy : Under your breath when he’s not listening.

My man : Written in your diary but you’d NEVER say it aloud.

Romi : His contact name in your phone with a pink heart emoji.

Oppa : once you got closer, he loses his mind every time. 

[jammatown919]

Huntr/x / Polytrix Headcanons

Mira's love language is acts of service

Zoey's is physical touch

Rumi's is words of affirmation

They're all decent cooks, but Mira does it most often because it's a quiet, comfortable way to show her affection.

Zoey cooks when she wants foods she grew up with that aren't usually good or easy to find in Korea. Girl just wants a decent burger.

Rumi knows how to make a handful of meals that Celine taught her. Very practical, nutrient-dense meals.

Mira is the only one of them that can drink without making it everyone else's problem. Rumi's never had a drop of alcohol before her girls convince her to try it, so her tolerance is LOW. Zoey doesn't get drunk immediately, but for reasons unknown it just makes her crazy sick after like two drinks.

Rumi and Mira speak some English (Mira more than Rumi) but there are still occasionally shenanigans with Zoey forgetting a Korean word and the other two not knowing what she's saying so she has to keep asking for the "clip-clip" (she wants her nail trimmers) or mime out what she's trying to say ("the vacuum?" "a shovel?" "FUCK- FRYING PAN!!!!!").

Zoey and Mira have always respected Celine deeply, but they're PISSED at her for forcing Rumi to hide from them and saying everything she did about demons knowing how it was affecting her.

Rumi and Mira are a little obsessed with Zoey's freckles, and she never 100% understood it until she started to really appreciate Rumi's patterns and would unconsciously say the same type of shit they've always said to her ("so cuuute, so prettyyy, can I touch th- wait...")

They do each other's hair a lot, and Zoey and Mira will argue over who gets to do Rumi's braid.

Rumi's hair is rarely out of the braid unless she's washing it because it is CRAZY long and sweeps the floor.

Zoey's hair is actually also fairly long, it's just usually up in the little braided buns. She has yet to appear publicly with her hair down so it makes a really good disguise for when she doesn't want to get recognized.

Zoey's parents divorced when she was in high school, and her mom moved back to Korea. She chose to stay in the States so she could finish school and spent most breaks (except for every other Christmas) in Korea with her mom. When she moved to Korea full-time, she only lived with her mom for like a month before she joined Huntr/x, and interestingly enough they don't really talk anymore.

Mira's parents were pretty emotionally abusive and would punish her with silence and isolation for failing to conform to their standards. They never hit her, but they made it obvious that they didn't like the person she was growing to be and frequently compared her to her brother. The final nail in the coffin was when they found out she was gay and told her she either needed to hide it and find a man anyway or get out of their house. Surprising no one, they don't talk anymore, and both parties have removed a lot of evidence of her even being their daughter from their lives.

Mira has a lot of issues surrounding passive-aggression and the silent treatment and would much prefer someone just scream at her than ignore her. If she thinks the girls aren't talking to her as much as usual, she immediately feels like something's wrong. When they do argue, they also have to make it very clear that they're not ignoring her, they just want some space to gather their thoughts, because otherwise she'll start spiraling.

Zoey used to get bullied a LOT as a kid and is still pretty sensitive to feeling like she's being made fun of. It took her over a year to get to the point of actually asking the others to watch turtle videos and such with her because she was always told her interests were annoying. She also used to flinch around them because she joined Huntr/x when she was freshly graduated and just coming out of several years of being physically picked on. She was just very used to people shoving her or hitting her if she annoyed them. While they didn't get the full story for a while, Mira and Rumi both noticed and started to treat her very gently as a result.

Celine genuinely tried her best to love Rumi and raise her well, but because she never truly accepted Rumi's demon side, Rumi grew up feeling like everything that was ever done for her was an investment she would later have to prove she deserved. Like sealing the Honmoon and losing her patterns was the only way to prove she was worth all the trouble and could be the daughter Celine wanted. She is still extremely self-deprecating when she makes mistakes and her girls have to actively remind her to stop calling herself names and rejecting affection as a form of self-punishment.

Celine hit Rumi a couple of times when she was younger. Whenever Rumi would engage in natural demon behaviors, Celine's knee-jerk reaction was to smack her to make her stop. She always regretted it and made a conscious effort to stop as Rumi got older, but it still happened and only reinforced Rumi's belief that only one side of her deserved love.

Rumi doesn't know anything about her father other than him being demon, and she can't be sure if Celine hasn't told her because she also doesn't know or if she's hiding things.

Now that she's not actively repressing her demon side, Rumi has fangs that come and go and makes all kinds of little demon sounds. It freaks her out a LOT at first, but accidentally growling and having both of her girlfriends immediately say "Us. Bed. NOW." is a pretty good confidence boost.

The three of them are very affectionate and touchy-feely as soon as they get comfortable with each other, but they don't officially start dating until after Rumi reveals her patterns. They basically were before, but they hadn't put a label on it.

They originally have an agreement that they will never explicitly confirm their relationship to the fans, since K-Pop idols generally aren't supposed to date partially due to the fan culture and being gay is its own thing and they just don't want to cause a stir among the fans like that. However, they are really bad at hiding it and fans begin to speculate.

Zoey accidentally lets it slip after a couple of years. They're all very anxious about what the fan reaction is going to be and whether it will impact the Honmoon, and she in particular gets REALLY upset about Mira and Rumi potentially being mad at her.

It's not as bad as they were expecting. It's been an open secret for years, and while there are some negative reactions, their fanbase ends up being generally pretty supportive and they kind of turn into gay rights icons in South Korea for providing so much visibility and representation to the community.

[bones4thecats]

Can i request Yandere platonic saja boys with young teen male idol

Like reader is a singer whos probably 13-17, who looks young for their age and is blind in one eye with a scar over it. Like reader been a idol for years and is probably friends with Huntrix, so the saja boys decided to try and befriend reader for information but almost immediately decided this is their new son/baby brother. While they follow him around even trying to get reader to quit his solo act and join them, reader just wants nothing to do with them, especially because the saja boys baby him.

Just imagine the internet going insane with theory’s about reader being related to the saja boys and the saja boys hinting at it while reader trys to clear the rumors. The boys probably wanting their king to make reader a demon

↳ Songbird of HUNTR/X the Saja Boys.

A K-Pop Demon Hunters × Young-Teen, Male Idol! Reader.

Requester: @vampirnico.

Characters Included: Jinu, Abs, Romance, Baby, and Mystery Saja.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Mentions of stalking, hints of murder (not explicitly said though), delusion, hinted obsessions, and cyber-stalking.

A/N: The Reader is inspired by Stray Kid's Hwang Hyunjin. Specifically, his appearance in this picture: link. Also, some things in your request weren't explicitly put it, but I believe I got them all. Sorry if I missed anything. Hope you like it!

●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●

🎤 JINU. He views hard work as an admirable quality in someone, especially in the people he holds dear. So, when he went up to the surface to scope out how he and the rest of the boys could invade the Idol Industry, he had appeared at one of your concerts. He saw how devoted and hardworking you were, and he began to watch over you like a hawk. Did he take the form of his bird to stalk you? Yes. Who knows? He does love babying you once befriended, seeing it as a second chance to be a better older brother. Hates how close you are the Hunters, wants them out of the picture and you to become a demon to be by his side forever. He's the best at talking to you, but still fails at convincing you to quite your solo performances and join the Saja Boys.

💪 ABBY. This guy is known far and wide for his physique, and when he saw how devoted you were to your own in order to please the fans, he felt a pride he never thought he'd feel. He was the slowest to get close to you, mainly due to his issue of his shirts always showing his abs and distracting you from your work; which annoyed you to no end. He stalks you the least, always making sure you know he's there and watching. Abby hints the most that you're related, and gets slightly upset when you deny the claims and describe him as "just a friend, no blood relation whatsoever." He fails at convincing you to join the Saja Boys the most, never really good at talking to you without messing up his words. 💖 ROMANCE. He loves how devoted you are to your fans, seeing it as destiny that you were meant to be brothers. He does not take kindly to the others claiming to be your brother as well, so whenever asked by interviewers or fans, he says they're "just like brother-figures while he was more of a blood-brother." This leads to rumors which you turn down. It's because of Romance's words that HUNTR/X actually begins to block contact from them more, trying to keep you safe. Romance doesn't view watching you from the shadows as stalking, he sees it as protecting his family. And if you catch him watching, he plays it off as if he's ran into you. But, you don't think two people can run into each other backstage like you would in the grocery store. ☄️ MYSTERY. Mystery is the one who is always clinging to you, barking and growling lowly at anyone surrounding you that he got even the smallest amount of bad vibes from. Especially HUNTR/X. During the meet-and-greet for example, when a fan brought a photograph of you and the girls for each of them to sign, he gritted his teeth and balled his hands in fists in anger. Doesn't verbally claim to be your brother, but doesn't deny the claims in the slightest. Fans only suspect you're related because of your shared quality of hiding your eyes; you doing it because of your scar and him doing it for... unknown reasons. Does want you to become a demon, but wouldn't force you. He likes your humanity quite a bit, surprisingly. Stalks you the most, and is the best at doing it because he knows how to be silent and blend in with his surroundings, despite his bright-colored hair. 🎼 BABY. Hates the Hunters as much as the others, but hates the fact that you're extremely close to them more. If any interviewer asks if you're dating one of the HUNTR/X girls, he shrugs and passes it off, saying you're just friends and "wouldn't abandon your brother is such a way." When asked to clarify if you're actually biological brothers or just friend-brothers, he shrugs and tells them to "make an estimated guess". Rumors spread, you clean up the mess, and you begin to have animosity between the two of you. Baby also stalks you the second-most, not physically though. He tends to stalk your socials more, ghosting in a fake account and only reacting to certain things; hiding himself well between the thousands of interactions of fans. He doesn't try convincing you to join the Saja Boys a lot, the topic only comes out when you question your life as a solo-artist. But, no matter how down you are, you always turn his offers to join his group down.

"Hey!" Zoey calls from the door of the elevator. In her hands is a tiny, dog-edible cake. Your long-haired chihuahua barking happily as his tail wagged, tiny pieces of his fur moving like a wave of seawater on the shores.

"Hey, Zoey! How have you been?" You asked when inside.

"Perfect! Actually, I've been working on the collab between HUNTR/X and 'The Prince'!" She exclaimed, holding up one of her journals after putting the dog-cake down on the counter.

"Sounds nice. Can't wait to actually start performing. The fans are gonna love this, no doubt."

Hearing two voices call your name, you looked behind you. Walking in from the hall was Rumi and Mira, who were in their comfort clothes, much like Zoey. You smiled and embraced the two, only stopping when you heard Zoey turn on the TV.

"BREAKING NEWS: IS SOUTH KOREA'S YOUNGEST MALE IDOL RELATED TO THE HIT NEW BOY BAND THE SAJA BOYS' MEMBERS? MIN-SEO IS ON THE CASE." You heard the host say.

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you sat down on the couch beside the black-haired idol. She was confused; the Saja Boys were demons, how would you be related to them?

Rumi and Mira on the other hand were upset. This was no doubt not the first time you've heard this, based on your reaction.

The purple and pink haired girls leaned on the couch from behind and watched as an interviewer named Min-Seo asked the demonic boy band questions.

"So, there is a rumor going around the fans that one of you boys, or all of you according to some, is related to hit solo artist 'The Prince'. Is this correct or just another rumor?"

The boys each chuckled and glanced at each other, their eyes each flashing golden yellow before they spoke back to the woman.

"Depends." Jinu began. "What do they mean by 'related'. Musically or biologically? Because, answering such a question is quite frankly difficult without..." He fake pondered. "Details."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt your dog curl up on the couch in between Zoey and you. His soft fur just barely touching your balled-up fist.

"I believe what they mean by is blood related." Min-Seo clarified, obviously oblivious to their taunting.

"Might have to take a DNA test on that. But, you never know, I guess." Romance said, his lips rested upwards in a delicately-crafted smile. "After all... there are always possibilities to every rumor."

Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you pressed the app directly to your manager. Texting him furiously to let out a statement as soon as possible that the rumors were false along with the results from the DNA test you had taken literally a couple days prior when they got back.

He agreed and told you it was on the top of his to-do list, and wished you luck in this scenario. Thanking him and hearing the TV turn off along with feeling three pairs of arms wrap around you from behind, you smiled.

"Don't worry," Rumi said. "I'm sure this'll all pass over soon."

"Yeah." Zoey agreed. "Rumors rise and fall. Kind of like a balloon!"

Mira chuckled. "Besides, they've asked us quite a bit if we were related. That's passed, this will too."

"Thanks girls." You said, hugging them back as best as you could before they pulled away and took deep breaths.

"You want some Ramyeon? It's your favorite flavor~" Rumi said, pointing towards the kitchen. Now, you could smell the noodles and broth. And it was true; it was your favorite flavor.

Nodding as you stood up and whistled for your pup to follow you, you agreed.

You loved these girls like your older sisters; thank goodness you were there with them and not alongside those teasing and taunting Saja Boys.

Unbeknownst to you, they were always there. Watching. Waiting. And planning for your rise into demon-hood, whether you wanted it or not.

🌊 Copyright © 2025 by Bones4thecats on Tumblr. All Rights Reserved. 🌊

[luveline]

hey do you still take requests for kbd Steve?? If so, could you please do reader feeling a bit insecure because obviously after so many kids her body won’t be the same as it was and Steve comforting her? Im obsessed with this whole au it’s so freaking cute 😭

You wouldn’t have your family without some changes, but you still wish that things could be different. 

“You’re sighing.”

“Nah.” 

“You are.” Steve tucks his fingers into the elastic on a crew sock and pulls it back. When he lets go, it flies taut across the bedroom and lands on your naked feet. “Don’t sigh, baby.” 

“I’m tired.” 

“Come’n lay down with me, then. Let Steve take care of you.” 

You wrinkle your nose as he laughs. “Gross, dude.” 

“Uber gross. Come on, come sit in my lap. Please? Please, please, please–”

You travel the room if only to quiet his surprisingly irritating soprano. “How’d you get your voice to do that?” you ask, knocking at his thighs in an attempt to shift them over. 

Steve’s having none of it, pulling you by the waist fully into his lap, his thighs spreading underneath you. You go down sideways, legs over one tan thigh. His leg hair tickles the backs of your knees. He sweeps a big hand down the flank of your calf and clamps on your ankle to stop you from fleeing. “Practice. So, what’s up with you?” 

You pretend to pick at your nails. “Nothing.”

“Yeah, try again.”

“Nothing, you jerk!” You elbow him in his chest. He looks at you with those deplorable brown eyes, too used to getting his way, and there’s a half shade of worship stuck in the flecks of his irises. You could shake him. “It’s stupid, and I already know what you’re gonna say.” 

“So spell it out for me and I’ll try to subvert your expectations.” 

“Will you?” You sag a little in his lap. “I don’t know, Steve, I guess I miss my body. You know, before I had the girls. I miss feeling…” Not perfect, did you ever feel perfect? “I don’t like having something to compare it too, I guess. And– and, you know, too, I used to be less…” 

“What, honey?” he asks nicely. 

“Soft, I guess.”

“Baby, you’ve always been soft.” He rubs his hand up your leg again. It encroaches the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His thumb plays a risky game but ultimately stays at the edge of your underwear. If your being half nude has bothered him yet, he hasn’t said. A shudder runs through you as his thumb strokes the roll of your stomach, the unavoidable skin there. “You’re exactly the same as you were before the girls.” 

“Well, I’m not.”

“Well, you’re not.” Steve holds your eyes. “It doesn’t matter, though. We’re both changing. I don’t look like–”

“Yeah, you do!” That’s what makes it so hard. He looks the same now as he did when you met. The only difference in him now is the chest hair he keeps and the wrinkles by his eyes. 

“I love that you’ve changed. I couldn’t be happier.” He covets the side of your face with his palm. It makes your cheek feel small and delicate as he strokes it carefully, warming it, letting your face dip down into his hold. “Baby,” he says, practically molten now, and melting you, his tone like honey browning over a steady flame, “you don’t need to worry about that shit, ever. Are you serious? You’re crazy if you think there’s anything about you now that doesn’t measure up to before you had Ave. Fuck, I couldn’t want you more. It’s– it’s a problem, you know it is.” 

“Is it?” 

“No. I wouldn’t change a thing about you,” he says, touching the thin material of your bralette almost curiously, though there’s nothing about you Steve doesn’t already know. 

“Okay,” you say, recognising the adoring in his eyes for what it is. He’s flushed beneath you, promise of some physical reassurance clear in his eyes, his pupils like dark dimes. “Can you take it off for me?” you ask casually, quietly, practiced innocence that has him biting the inside of his cheek. “I can’t do the clasp.” 

“Of course I can, honey. Turn around for me. Thank you, honey, that’s good. That’s perfect. Is that better?”

His fingertips are like heat where they skirt along your skin. “Thank you.”