#up to you and whatever you're comfortable with; though

[kaiser1ns]

#. 店長はメイド様 ！

featuring 𝘀𝗮𝗷���� 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff + angst + hurt with comfort. equal parts chaos, cute, and crackhead energy and you're right in the middle of it all, the unofficial babysitter-manager of the saja boys. somehow, being a maid ended up on your resume, too.

CHECK OUT THE SERIES MASTERLIST

HOW IT ALL BEGAN you can't believe this. how did you lose a bet to JINU, of all people? you knew the moment he flashed that smug grin and shuffled the uno deck, that something was off, because he just made you draw not one or four, but twenty cards. you're 99% sure he had a second pile tucked into his hoodie sleeves, and you're 1000% sure someone helped him cheat, most likely BABY, who accidentally knocked over the draw pile every five seconds.

behind you, ROMANCE is gently patting your back like you just got stood up for a date. ABBY gives you a headpat, which somehow makes you feel even smaller. and MYSTERY hands you a cold soda like it's some kind of reward just for putting in an effort.

“this is not fair, jinu!” you said, or rather shouted, slamming your uno cards onto the table like you've lost everything important in this life. maybe because you really have lost any respect for him, and whatever dignity you had left. “you cheated!”

“woah, hey now,” he says with this fake tone full of innocence and justice, raising his hands like he's some criminal who robbed the bank. “don't make assumptions if you can't prove them. you lost name-ssi, now pay up.”

you can't believe this is happening. how? when? what? why?

your punishment is even worse than losing the card game. you have to be the maid for an entire day. not just a maid…his maid. you didn’t even want to ask how he had prepared a maid outfit so fast. did he plan this all along? 

jinu shoved you into a room, as he just grins. the audacity. “come on, don’t keep your master waiting~”

“you’re weird,” that's all you managed to say before the door closed completely. it's just you and the dress that was on the hanger. a maid outfit. a real maid outfit with ruffles, ribbons, a little apron … and a fluffy cat tail. oh, no, he didn't. it’s already embarrassing enough that you lost to a cheater in a card game, and now this.

when you look in the mirror, you have to admit... it’s not that bad. it fits suspiciously well. actually, you look good, but that doesn’t change the fact that you now have to say things like welcome home, master~ and giggle like an anime girl with no self respect who exists only for the fanservice. hopefully, you'll have a well-deserved break from idiots like them after this disaster.

stepping out into the living room, and the reaction is not what you expected.

romance literally explodes into floating pink hearts. he’s glowing like a firework, with sparkles and glitter. how does he do that? baby chokes on his energy drink and drops it on the floor. abby suddenly buttons up his shirt like he needs protection. mystery stares at the table because he doesn't want to look at you. and jinu just stares at you like his brain just short-circuited. wait, is he blushing?

“ew,” you mutter, covering yourself with your arms, even though the outfit isn’t even that revealing. “don’t act like i wanted this. you made me do it.”

he walks up to you with that stupid little smirk, then plops something on your head. a fluffy headband with cat ears.

“there,” he says, adjusting it while maintaining eye contact with you. if you could gouge his eyes out with the black ribbon from your corset, you would have done it already. “that should do.”

you’re going to kill him. perform an exorcism, spray him with the emergency water bottle, smash a cake in his face. only after you survive the next twenty-four hours of saying ‘master’ every time someone asks you for service.

ORDER ONE: MORE TEA PLEASE! it started rather normal, really. just you sitting on the swivel chair in the kitchen, your hands lightly tapping the kitchen island with your nails in a soothing little rhythm. it was calm and quiet, manageable for now. you hoped it would stay this way.

but knowing him, or rather, knowing them, nothing is ever as it should be. it’s like they were summoned straight out of the ninth circle of hell and deposited into the mortal world solely to destroy your peace. you always wondered if they were demons. very possible, especially jinu. is he their power-hungry demon lord? honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was.

still, you tried to enjoy the calm while it lasted. emphasis on tried.

because a voice came in a low tone, like a whisper, right in your ear—

“boo~”

you jumped out of the chair and slapped the intruder with so much force that the sharp smack echoed through the kitchen, followed by a dramatic yelp of pain and agony.

“ow! what was that for?” you turned to see jinu holding his face, his hair slightly tousled from the attack, looking at you like you’d just committed a sin that would be hard to forgive. and then, you started laughing. yes, laughing directly in his face. 

“deserved~,” you said, arms crossed smugly, then muttered under your nose calling him an asshole, bastard, jerk, a demon spawn. the usual nicknames you have for him. he rubbed his face like he was collecting evidence for a lawsuit, then locked eyes with you. except it wasn’t a normal look. no, no—it was the jinu look. the smug kind, the dangerous kind, the infuriating kind.

“what did you call me?” he asked, pretending to be offended, what a drama queen. “i think you should read the instructions again.”

hold up …instructions? what instructions? were you in a fever dream or some prank show with a secret camera?

“i’m not calling you that,” you muttered, breaking eye contact immediately because if you looked at him any longer, your soul would start to leave your body. he raised a brow. “you know you should do everything i tell you to, right?”

you sighed, disappointed, without a shred of will to live and full of regret. “yes, i know.”

he leaned in a little. “yes, who?”

this was it. this was your villain origin story. not counting anything that's happened so far: the photo shoot with abby, the dates with romance, the secret cuddling sessions with mystery, the hot sauce from baby. no, it was this.

“yes…master.”

he giggled. oh no he just didn't giggle like a girl who just pulled her bias photocard. even worse because the torture didn’t stop there.

“can i have more tea, please?” he asked sweetly, stretching like a smug little prince on the couch, legs up on the table expecting to get the royal treatment he oh-so deserved.

you smiled through gritted teeth. “would you like green, herb, or black tea? i think the last one matches your intentions, mind, and soul, master.”

he blinked for a few seconds, then shrugged, ignoring your comment. jinu will spare you the punishment this time, you will still mess up again anyway. “herb, and add honey too.” fine. herb it is. you served it with a sweet smile, placed it gently on the table in front of him like a polite little servant.

and then you waited for the moment the cup touched his lips, he let out the most heavenly, high-pitched shriek. it was music to your ears. it's so nice to watch him suffer after he thought he was the boss.

justice is served. so was the tea, burning hot by yours truly.

ORDER TWO: CINDERELLA REINCARNATION it had only been four hours since your shift started, and somehow, you were already reconsidering your life choices. you’d been cooking, cleaning, folding clothes, brewing teas, blending smoothies, and responding to every ridiculous whim of master jinu. a phrase that made you want to eat a poisonous apple like snow white. master and jinu should never be in the same sentence, in fact, they shouldn’t even be in the same dictionary.

you were currently mopping the kitchen floor, all because someone decided you weren’t working hard enough and just so happened to spill their entire drink right in front of you. who was that someone, you ask? take a wild guess. yes, bingo! jinu. master jinu, destroyer of peace, menace of society, the devil in disguise.

“oops,” he’d said with a smile that could’ve won him millions of awards for best villain in a k-drama. “you missed a spot there~”

thank you, master jinu, for your generous gift of sticky soda and extra labor. truly, what a divine blessing. your spirit is overwhelmed with faith, love, and just the tiniest urge to scream into a bucket.

you threw the wet rag at him, but of course he dodged it, effortlessly, might you add. he was truly born to be an actor, especially for the role of the main villain. jinu laughed at you and you considered mopping the floor with him next time.

at this point, you were convinced you were the reincarnation of cinderella and jinu was the evil stepmother, baby was definitely one of the wicked stepsisters, probably the one with the louder laugh, and abby was the other one who just giggles and agrees with everything. abby is the definition of a traitor.

at least mystery and romance hadn’t betrayed you…yet. they seemed sweet enough, but who knows when they'll snap and request a five-course meal with handmade napkin origami shaped like swans, dragons or tigers.

as you scrubbed, your brain short-circuited and automatically started playing that one song from cinderella, the mice version. you could hear the high-pitched voices in your head:

"cinderelly, cinderelly, night and day it’s cinderelly. make the fire, fix the breakfast, wash the dishes, do the mopping!"

accurate. painfully accurate. the story of your life before you were even born.

finally, you finished the mess and got up to go wash your hands in the bathroom, but jinu stopped you in the most jinu way possible.

“would you cook something, please? maybe some eggs with bacon? or ramyeon? oh! what about handmade pizza?”

would he like to be handmade murdered?

you hate him. you hate his stupid perfect face with his stupid pretty eyes and his stupid charming voice that definitely shouldn't make your heart beat faster but unfortunately it does. you smiled. a smile full of thoughts, and not the nice ones. “yes, master,” you said, dead inside.

in the bathroom, you looked at your reflection and barely recognized yourself. the dark circles were giving a woman who worked seven days a week, twenty-four hours with no breaks. lifeless, exhausted, annoyed.  splashing your face with cold water and whispering a motivational speech to yourself, which sounded more like desperate sobbing.

“i got this. just a little longer and i will be free. fake it till you make it.”

trying to remember who you were, before this. freedom was a concept, peace was a myth, and saja boys didn't even exist.

when you stepped out, you were met with romance standing in the hallway. oh, sweet angel romance. the one person who could offer salvation. your face lit up, and you ran up to hug him.

he held up a hand. “jinu said he needed you. also, can you make kimbap?” your smile dropped and your soul left your body. eyes filled with tears, as a single scream echoed through the hall. somewhere in the kitchen, jinu took a calm sip of tea and smiled to himself like the smug little prince he was.

you were the real reincarnation of cinderella, minus the fairy godmother which you wanted to have so much, so she could free you from all the pain and suffering.

ORDER THREE: MYSTERY IS HISTORY it’s been seven hours. seven hellish hours since you became jinu’s so-called maid. after blood, sweat, and nearly crying over a mop bucket, he finally let you have your ten-minute break. wow, how generous, how benevolent. someone give this man a medal for basic human decency.

so naturally, you went to the only safe haven you could think of: mystery’s room.

sweet, quiet, actually listens when you speak. mystery is the only one who hasn’t pushed you into a breakdown or tried to make you be the main lead for another anime maid fantasy. he’s done some dumb things, sure, but he’s never made you scrub the floor, he just spilled soda on because you missed a spot.

you crept in, closed the door behind you, and face-planted straight into his bed. fluffy, warm, and not covered in jinu’s crimes. this is what it feels like to ascend in heaven. mystery didn’t even flinch when he saw you. in fact, he looked happy. “hey,” he said softly, “you okay? do you need anything, (name)-ssi?”

“no,” you groaned into the blankets, “i just need peace and quiet. to be far away from jinu before i commit a crime.”

he chuckled and sat near you, listening as you ranted about how humbling this whole day has been. “i bet even huntr/x treats bobby better than this. maybe i’m paying for the sins of my ancestors. or wait, what if i killed jinu in a past life and this is his revenge arc?”

“seems like something he’d do,”

your eyes were starting to droop as you talked. you were just so tired. cook this. clean that. jinu wants eggs. jinu doesn’t want eggs anymore. jinu thinks the floor is thirsty and pours juice on it. he doesn’t want help, he just creates more unnecessary work for you. and the worst part is when your heart speeds up a little when you think about him. ugh. it’s not affection. it’s hatred, right? hatred. anger. intense desire to throw him off a balcony. yes, that’s it.

before you knew it, the hallway echoed with jinu’s voice. break’s over, time to return to the seventh circle. you sat up, hugged mystery like a soldier off to war, and whispered, “goodbye, my angel.” then sprinted out before jinu could catch you red-handed. you didn’t think anyone saw. it’s strictly forbidden to seek help from the others. jinu’s rule, of course.

but when you got back to the kitchen, there he was. lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine like a celebrity at a hair salon.

“a little birdy told me you had a nice, relaxing break,” he said without looking at you, flipping through pages because he clearly had nothing else to do but pick on you. across the room, baby was sipping juice. you glared so hard it nearly curdled his drink. you picked up the broom you used not long ago and had murder in your eyes.

“nuh-uh,” jinu said smoothly. “you stay here, i don’t trust you.” the broom snapped in your hands like your nerves and the last little drop of your patience.

they are all so dead when this torture is over.

later, when another break came around. yes, shocking a break. you returned to mystery’s room. your safe haven, your one and only angel, but…he was gone.

you blinked, looked around. nothing. no mystery, no peace. no, this can't be. he was right there, you saw him with your own eyes, you literally saw him go to the fridge to get something to drink and now... your savior couldn't be saved.

then you turned your head, and there he was. jinu was leaning against the doorframe, smiling, with eyes glowing in a demonic gold. what a jerk was your master. my condolences, may the heavens save you now. even though you doubted it you will make it in one piece. hope dies last.

ORDER FOUR: TRIP TRIP FALL FOR ON HIM! after nearly ten hours of living the life of a disney princess…well, more like before the singing animals and magical makeover, you were currently experiencing actual war flashbacks. hands still slightly wrinkled from hours of washing dishes, and arms sore from fetching snacks, drinks, and everything in between.

now, all five of them were lounging on the couch, while you stood next to them, awaiting their demands. ready for another order from the wish list: bring juice or scratch my back or suffer for my amusement.

mystery wasn’t allowed to talk to you (still unclear why, but you know why). baby and abby were furiously pushing the buttons of the joystick, playing a tv game. romance was doing what he does best; watching things happen while looking good. as for jinu…that man had fused with the couch. if you looked too quickly, you might mistake him for a pillow.

you were just standing like a statue. too scared to sit, too tired to live. you had mastered the ancient skill of sleeping with your eyes open. now that your mind was drifting somewhere soft to your bed. clouds for pillows. a pile of warm blankets, tiny stuffed animals cuddling around you. a baby staring into your soul—

wait… a baby?

baby, the actual boy, not some figment of your sleepy hallucinations, was right in front of you, blinking slowly.

“yes, baby?” you said, with a smile faker than their real intentions. “do you need something?”

“i need more juice.” of course you do.

thus began your olympic marathon to the kitchen. congratulations, you were officially on juice run #36! fun fact: you once gave baby room-temperature juice and were nearly exiled. and no, he didn’t want the same snack as earlier. and yes, he now wanted sparkling water, peach-flavored

you were losing your mind one step at a time.

romance asked for seaweed snacks. jinu wanted fruit, peeled and arranged in a heart shape. abby asked for energy drinks, and baby just liked watching you run around. much to your relief, mystery didn't want anything, he just sat there like a lone wolf.

you mixed up two orders accidentally. gave abby’s drink to baby and jinu’s snack to romance. jinu didn’t even flinch. he just raised an eyebrow and said, “that’s not my snack,” then started judging for your poor service.

you tried to stay strong, but you only had two hands and zero patience.

at some point, everyone left except for jinu, of course. because why would he move when he’s so comfortable doing absolutely nothing? 

you just finished the dishes, never mind that there was still more to wash. going to go check on couch prince jinu, and that’s when the lights went out.

in that pitch-black room, you tripped. k-drama style. over a can, a carpet wrinkle, and maybe your own broken will to live. your arms flailed in the air, your mouth opened in slow motion with life flashed before your eyes: memories of snack orders and juice spill.

you braced for the impact, but you landed... not on the floor. no, you landed in his lap. back against his chest, his arms had instinctively wrapped around your waist.

it might have been dark, but somehow, you could see him perfectly. like you were drawn to him and only him. you looked straight into each other’s eyes, his beautiful chocolate irises soft and deep, shining with a warmth that made your breath catch in your throat. his gaze was so soft.

his pupils were dilated, wide and dark, and you were sure yours were too, mirroring the surprise and the tension. you had never been this close before.

your skin burned where his arms held you, and you couldn’t tell if it was the room’s heat or the heat rolling off of him. every second stretched, slowly and intoxicatingly, as if time would stop itself. he was so handsome. too handsome, and right now, dangerously close.

you both blinked, trying to wake up from this dream. how sweet that you think it's a dream. your faces leaned in, you both weren't thinking, because you were behind pulled by something magnetic. your lips were just a breath away from his. almost touching, millimeters from what would have been the second big bang the universe may experience.

was this real? was this romantic tension? do i…like him?

and then, the universe said let it be light. the sound of the lamp clicking was heard and baby had his mouth wide open, shocked, staring like he just walked in on a drama finale. you immediately got up from jinu, brushing past baby as you sped up your pace to go somewhere that was not here. your life depended on not glancing at the maknae, with your eyes glued on the floor, you were close to the room you used here.

behind you, jinu calmly looked at baby and said, “not a word should come out of your mouth. pretend this never happened.” baby nodded like his life also depended on it, mouth zipped shut, and his feet carried him to his room.

now jinu was left completely alone with his thoughts and heart that wouldn't stop beating like crazy. no amount of pretending would make that go away.

ORDER FIVE: HOUR OF THE SOUL you couldn’t sleep after that. how could you, when every thought kept going back to what might have happened, what could have happened, if baby hadn’t shown up. for once, you were glad to see him, even if the moment he walked in was probably the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to you.

tossing and turning in your bed, still dressed in the same uniform, you hugged your pillow like it could rewind the time. it was exhausting, but your mind kept replaying everything: his heartbeat, his arms around your waist, the way your lips nearly brushed–

you groaned and rolled over again, smothering your face in the soft blanket. there would be no peace and quiet tonight, only the services of the manager as a maid.

it’s 2:34 a.m. and they’re at it again: complaining, bickering, calling your name like a broken record. dragging your feet out of bed, eyes barely opening, arms ached, your head pounded. you didn’t even feel human anymore.

just a walking, breathing puppet knew nothing but to serve.

they wanted more blankets, a charger, a midnight snack, a lullaby. what more do they want? they already have your patience and sanity off the list.

you were so tired, barely awake when dragging your feet from one room to the next, mumbling yes, and okay, and coming as if you were born to say only this, and to do what you're told.

and then came the final straw, the moment everything shattered.

you turned the corner too fast, and so did jinu. the tray slipped from your hands, and the cold liquid soaked his shirt. it was a harmless incident. “i’m sorry—” that’s all you managed to say, before he snapped.

“can’t you do something decent for once? pathetic, watch yourself.”

you stood there for a second. frozen, paralyzed, shocked. then something inside you just twisted. you slammed the tray to the ground, and it clattered with a loud, echoing sound through the hall. doors opened with familiar faces peeking out, but you didn’t care, not anymore.

“i’m not your maid,” you hissed, voice trembling as tears spilled down your cheeks. “i’m not your babysitter, or your doll. is this all i am to you? a joke you can laugh at?”

they stared at you, not knowing how to react, let alone say something. they’re not human, most definitely are not, because no human could be so heartless. maybe they really are some otherworldly creatures, your worst nightmare dressed in perfect skin.

“ungrateful,” you spat. “that’s what you all are. i didn’t hear a single thank you today. not one sorry. it’s always ‘i want this,’ ‘bring this,’ ‘give me that’ like i’m not even a human being.”

romance flinched, and abby stepped back. mystery didn’t meet your eyes, baby was silent for once. and jinu just stood there, staring. 

“you,” screaming until your voice cracked, tears falling freely as you pointed at jinu. he didn’t flinch, never does because to him you are not a threat. “you are the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

your voice broke. you wanted to quit, to walk away and go back to being just a girl. someone who studies, who sleeps, who breathes, who is herself.  you don't want this, not whatever they turned you into.

jinu lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. he didn't know what to say in a situation like this. he's always so sweet-talking, always knowing what to do, but now he doesn't know. 

“you made me hate this job. hate myself when i used to dream about being someone. and now i dream about escaping.” you reached up and yanked off the headband from your head. those stupid ears, those stupid challenges, those stupid jerks.

you threw it to the floor, stepped on it until it cracked. “i never want to see any of you again.”

they felt something then. something foreign and wrong. maybe it was shame, guilt, or regret. a sting deep in their chests, and the strange thing is that demons don’t feel. but tonight... unfortunately they did. 

you didn’t know the truth, at least not entirely, but you didn't need to know what they really were. it was crystal clear. that they’re not humans, not even close to that. their souls are twisted by power, feeding off the world they pretend to belong in because they broke something human. 

they broke you.

and maybe you were fragile, too soft for this world, or too good for this world, too good for them. despite that, it didn’t mean you deserved to go through hell and back.

jinu reached for you, but you stepped back. his touch used to be warm, now it chilled you, made you put an icy wall to keep him away. you looked at him, not angry anymore, just empty, done, soulless.

then you turned and walked away from them. no words, just the silence of the broken trust and the sound of your door slamming shut. they watched until you were gone and only jinu’s eyes dropped to the broken headband at his feet.

and suddenly, none of them felt powerful anymore.

ORDER SIX: TO SMILE AGAIN you haven’t blinked since then. you were just sitting on the ground, hands resting on your knees, head falling forward, your back against the door. how many hours had passed already—three? four? most likely five. the sun was spilling through the window blinds, a beam of light shining right onto you. how ironic, to have light shine on you when everything inside you is complete darkness.

you were tired, energy drained, couldn’t fall asleep, or even feel anything. there was nothing to be sad about anymore. you thought about quitting this position. you’d still find another job, something that pays well, or at least enough to support yourself. you’re a smart girl, hardworking and persistent. there’s no way you wouldn’t be able to handle whatever’s about to come.

exhaling deeply, heavily as you felt how much your body hurt. you could barely stand, but you did it. at the very least, you wanted to go to the bathroom, to freshen up your withered self as much as you could.

but something was stopping you. you didn’t want to open the door, or see any of them.

they were probably asleep by now, it was still early. after all, they were the spoiled princes who didn’t care about anything or anyone.

your hand slowly reached for the metal handle. your movements were hesitant at first, but then it touched the cold surface, sending a shiver through you as you rose onto your tiptoes. that’s when you noticed the atmosphere around you. you were still in that mocking uniform, didn’t even have the energy to change out of it.

blinking slowly, swallowing painfully hard, you gently pressed the handle. the door creaked open with a quiet noise, and you closed your eyes. you didn’t know why. perhaps because you didn’t want to face reality or take a step forward. 

you wanted to take a step back. to close the door, to lock yourself away somewhere. but you took that step forward: without looking. your foot hit something that blocked you from going any further.

and then you opened your eyes.

what stopped you were the boys, who were sleeping outside your door. you blinked, rubbed your eyes once, twice, except they were still there curled up in sleep, like guilt had covered them instead of a blanket.

leaning against the walls, backs slouched, curled in exhaustion. you almost closed the door again. you don’t want to see them, you shouldn’t. but it’s hard, isn’t it?

why does it feel like this? there’s no word for it, no way to describe what you are experiencing right now, not really.

your chest tightens, like someone’s wrapped a chain around your heart, pulling until it either explodes or crashes straight down. there’s a lump in your throat and you start to tremble.

is it panic rushing in? or is it fear? being afraid of forgiving them, afraid of being hurt again. to be used and treated like someone who is nobody.

you really don't know what to think and feel at this moment, not when your eyes timidly and slowly stopped at abby, then baby, whose head rested on his shoulder. your gaze followed other colors, pink and purplish hues, romance and mystery, a little apart from the others. then you looked down, right at your feet.

jinu was directly at your door. his legs in the entrance, arms folded, breathing soft and steady.

have they been sitting here all morning...but why? weren't they the monsters who never did anything for you? why are they only doing something like this now?

so many questions you didn't know if you wanted the answers to.

you hadn’t expected them to be outside your door, let alone sleep. you assumed they had walked off when you slammed it. you wanted to hate them, but your heart didn’t know what to do with their silence.

you just stared at them, couldn’t move, otherwise you would wake them up… if they weren't already awake. then you saw it, a small movement.

abby slowly opened his eyes and looked at you. he smiled and it was kind, sweet, sincere. you watched as his shoulder gently nudged the green-haired boy beside him. baby stirred, rubbing his eyes with his fists and yawning before looking up at you. he didn’t smile, but there was something in his eyes.

romance and mystery followed, stretching their shoulders, preparing to stand but abby stopped them with a simple lift of his hand.

then you looked down again. jinu was awake, and he was already looking at you. staring at each other again, soul to soul, just like yesterday.

nobody said anything. not you, not him, not them. what doesn’t seem unfamiliar, feels unfamiliar.

and then they stood up. lined up, and bowed down to you. it’s not casual, it’s heavy. the kind of apology that doesn’t expect forgiveness, only acknowledgment.

and you freeze, because no one’s ever bowed to you like that before. not them, especially not when it mattered or when it hurt.

your breath catches, and you hate how fast the tears come, but there’s no stopping it. your chest lurches, too tight, with the chain around your heart pulling harder, like it wants to snap, but instead it breaks you.

you cry, no, you break. right in front of them. a choked sob slips out before you can swallow it, and once it starts, it doesn't stop. for a second, you don’t even know why, because it’s not just sorrow. it’s anger, grief, and relief all at once. you hate that you still feel something. that their bow means something. 

“we are extremely sorry, (name)-nim. please forgive us. but even if you don’t… we will understand.”

their heads almost touched the ground. it's inhuman because it is not normal for them to bow to you. is this shocking because they are not supposed to express regret?

they looked up slightly, enough to see you trembling and sobbing. they didn’t know what emotions were coursing through you. hell, you didn’t even know. panic set in. not know what to do with you, until your legs gave out, and you fell to the ground.

“you are the biggest idiots i have ever met.” you said through cracked sobs, a shaky voice, and only your muffled crying was clear. “you’re awful, terrible, insensitive, ruthless, heartless jerks.”

they didn’t speak in defense. because you were right. they just lowered their heads again; however, you hit each one of them and told them to get up.

the saja boys had never done anything like this before—never apologized.

this was new. and you prayed it was real and not just a tactic to get away with it. they all stood up, rubbing their heads when jinu spoke.

“i’m sorry, (name). i didn’t mean to take it that far. and you’re right… about me, about us. about how we treated you. we didn’t see how much you were doing—how much you already gave.” he bowed again. like a man with dignity, with respect for you. “if your choice is to quit… you’re more than free to do so.”

that was the icing on the cake. jinu apologizing to you, jinu admitting that he was wrong, to look like a person with a pure soul.

“get up before i make your face kiss the ground.” he stood up very confused because he expected another reaction and you…you just hugged him. “others too… group hug.”

they surrounded you, arms wrapping around, warm and gentle. you melted into the embrace. it was nice, comforting, exactly what you needed.

someone to notice you.

you weren’t going to quit, but if something like this ever happened again. you were packing your bags and saying hasta la vista.

“one more screw up, and you will be on permanent boathouse duty. scrubbing old men’s backs and feet until your fingers start to fall off.”

and just like that you were back to your usual self and you felt how the boys tensed.

“yes, ma’am!”

SHIFT END: MANAGER-NIM VENGEANCE somehow, everything was back to normal, and technically, you won the challenge. because you never changed out of that cursed uniform. one of the rules was simple: if you changed, you automatically lost. but you didn’t, so you won.

and what better reward than making them your maids instead?

yes, you heard that right. the saja boys, guilty and worried, told you that you could wish for anything, and they’d make it happen to make up for everything. they didn’t even ask how you got maid outfits that fast, just shrugged and said, “manager magic,” probably. ready for anything, anytime.

abby’s muscles were practically about to tear through the fabric, but wow... what a view. baby looked like a grumpy little kitten, pouting in lace and ribbons. romance? absolutely slayed. he looked better in that outfit than you did. mystery was awkward but cute. and then, of course, the maid of honor, your personal servant, the one and only jinu. doesn’t he look criminally good in a corset and skirt?

you were now lounging out on the dorm’s big balcony. mini kids pool at your feet, deck chair underneath you. abby fanned you gently while mystery held up an umbrella to keep you shaded. a peaceful, well-earned vacation with the best possible staff.

romance was giving you the softest little massage on your arms. baby stood nearby, holding your drink. “wait,” you said, lifting up the sunglasses. “i wanted apple juice… actually, no. orange juice now.”

baby groaned and trudged off to the kitchen. cute. and then there he was, the star of the show, maid jinu, returning with your sweets and a tray of carefully peeled fruit cut into… stars? you raised an eyebrow. “i asked for heart shapes.”

his eye twitched. “yes, master,” he muttered, and went back to the kitchen without a word to fix it.

you let out a long, satisfied sigh and closed your eyes again. the breeze, the pampering, the silence. it was perfection. and no, this wasn’t just a one-day deal, they were doing this for a whole month. every single day.

you were, without a doubt, the saja princess.

because they needed to taste their own medicine. and what better way to do it than serving you? besides, you totally deserve it.

MANAGER-NIM 1, SAJA BOYS 0.

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©2025 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[m4mmonthebest]

// Summary: Friend comes to visit you. Dateables are jealous. When she tries to confess her love there's a distraction and she decides to leave. Making a summary because I know some people would probably not want to read out and just go straight to their favs being jealous lol.... Scroll all the way down to click on the available characters. This will get updated every time I finish writing down characters.

"Clementine?"

You try to open the door but Dorian seems keen on not letting anyone in, for your protection. Your friend on the other side, you've known each other for a very long time.

"Hey Dorian... you know her. Let her in..?"

After a minute the door unlocks itself, and your friend envelopes you into a tight loving hug.

"Hi.... it's been so long! I thought you wouldn't open the door for me..."

Her voice is as sweet as always. 

"Sorry for that, sometimes it's a little difficult to get the door to open itself..."

You brush your fingers through the lovely carved wood, and you know that if you had the dateviators on, Dorian would've groaned. Maybe he did.

"Well Clementine...sit wherever you wish. Do you want something to eat? Or a snack? I must have something around here..."

You begin to walk towards the kitchen, opening up the fridge which gives you a little resistance. Weird... Freddy isn't usually like that. Maybe he isn't feeling great?

There's some cookies that you bought the other day, you decide that's enough of a snack, if you got too hungry maybe you could order pizza.

Clementine sits down on one of the sofas. Although one of the cushions suddenly slips from below her, she falls to the ground with a small thud.

"Clementine!"

You go to her side quickly helping her stand up, she rubs her butt with a pained expression.

"Ouch I'm sorry.... that's embarrassing..."

"Hey no, it's okay! Bought cookies."

The word cookies brings a smile to her face, as you both sit down on the large sofa, begining to eat away at the cookies.

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you, not unusual, until a cold breeze makes her begin to shiver. You quickly grab Mateo and wrap her with him. And then the temperature begins to rise. 

Now you know the objects aren't happy with your friend, you shoot Hector an annoyed look, which makes the room a bit colder.

You sigh, which makes Clementine look worried.

"S-sorry. Am I bothering? I can leave."

"No, no, that's not it. Just a bit tired that's all. I'm wondering you didn't just come to hang out though... I know you're a busy woman."

"Would... would've it been bad if I just wanted to hang out?"

She looks sad, shit. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"Not at all! I love hanging out with you I truly do...I just know your work doesn't leave you much free time."

Your hand rests on her shoulder. You give her a warm smile and you can see her blushing slightly.

"U-um. I ... did come to tell you something important."

"Important?"

"I've been keeping it with me for ... a while now."

You start thinking of everything you've done to get until then. Fuck. Your mind turns blank and you suddenly can't remember anything.

"Y-yes?"

"I...I wanted to say.....I....um....really lo-"

The lights flicker on an off, and then...

THUNK!!!

There's a really loud noise that interrupts whatever Clementine wanted to say at the moment. You go to the kitchen to find the trashcan fell to the ground, spilling everything on the floor.

"Cam..."

Clementine stands behind you, holding her hands together.

"I....I think it's time I leave....that was fun."

"Are you sure? You can stay if you want..."

"Don't worry. Have to wake up early anyways... bye bye."

She kisses your cheek tenderly. And when she goes to leave the door is already open. She wonders if it had been like that all the time, but ignores it.

You'll have to talk to a lot of people today.

Cam

[trust-is-a-dangerous-thing]

It doesn't take long after Nightmare!AU reader joins 141 for the guys to realize that something is very very wrong, but figuring out exactly what that is is difficult when you won't even speak to them.

Gaz tries to be nice, tries to make up for that day in the mess hall now that he's seen how terrified his joke about the recruits had made you, he's apologetic but you don't seem to notice---you refuse to look at him, refuse to be alone with him, out of fear that it'll be taken as agreement with what he said and that you'll be punished for it.

Soap makes all the jokes in the world to try and get you to smile, invites you out to have drinks with the rest of them, does everything he can to make you feel at ease, but all it does is make your anxiety worse---you're convinced it's just an act, that at any moment the other shoe is going to drop and he's going to be just like everyone else.

Ghost takes a different approach. He doesn't try to talk to you, he doesn't push you to hang out with them, he doesn't do much of anything---he just stays by your side, quietly, waiting for you to be ready to open up a little. In theory, him being around all the time would get make you more comfortable, it'd make you loosen up a little. In practice, all it does is put you more on edge---you think he's watching you, waiting for you to slip up so he can drag you over to Price and rat you out.

And Price? You avoid him like the plague. Whatever you think the others will do to you, you think he'll do ten times worse. The only time you ever spend any substantial amount of time around him is during missions, but even then you make yourself as small and silent as possible, trying to slip past his notice.

All of it drives you insane.

You can't eat, you can barely think, you can barely fucking move without one of them right behind you. Watching. Waiting.

You don't slip up, though. You can't. You won't.

So you don't eat, even though it's been months by now and you're starving---worse than it's ever been before. You wear your layers, more layers than you usually do, even when you sleep, just in case. You hide in your room and when you leave you stick to the shadows, to the parts of the compound no one ever goes. You only speak when spoken to, you only do what you're ordered, and you never let them see how close you are to cracking.

You're successful, for the most part. For months.

Right up until your body finally reaches its limit.

----------

It was a hot day. Too hot. 90 degrees, but it might as well have been 150 for all you felt the difference.

As usual, you were wearing all your layers, even the extra ones---tank top base, a t-shirt over that, a long sleeve shirt over that, your thin "inner" tactical gear, then your heavier "outer" tactical gear, two layers of pants overtop a thin pair of athletic shorts, and a pair of gloves.

If it were up to you, you would've spent the day hiding in your room, maybe coming out later at night when it'd cooled down.

Only it wasn't up to you. The lieutenant---Ghost---had asked you the day prior to help him and the others drill the recruits today. You didn't think you had a choice, so you said yes...and it would've been too suspicious if you "accidentally" broke your arm to get out of running drills twice.

So you spent the day outside in the sweltering heat, watching as the others ran the recruits ragged and ignoring Soap's unsubtle attempts to get you to take off some of your clothes. Price wasn't there, at least---the only silver lining of it all.

You could feel the recruits' fear. You could smell it. Fuck, you were so hungry that you could practically taste it. But you didn't eat. You didn't even entertain the notion. It wasn't allowed, even if you were starving.

You don't know when exactly it started to happen---your days had been blending into one another for weeks now, your body in constant pain and your vision always slightly blurred. So when things got worse, you don't notice it at first. When your vision grew darker at the edges, when it started getting a little harder to breathe, when the world around you shifted and blurred, when your mind suddenly couldn't put two-and-two together, when your legs started to give out, and---finally---when everything went dark.

You don't notice until it's too late---and the others? They don't notice something is wrong until you're on the ground.

Completely still, far too hot, and not breathing.

[chimielie]

cw: f!reader, children, pregnancy talk, i'm having some sort of episode

Atsumu never really wanted kids.

He didn’t dislike them—not after he got over his thirteen-year-old aversion to babysitting—but he didn’t spend a lot of time fantasizing about having a family, either.

Whenever someone asked “where do you see yourself in ten years?” the answer was always on the volleyball court.

That answer evolved, of course: at fifteen, he would’ve envisioned himself going pro, his twin at his side. At twenty-one, he was chasing an Olympic medal, trying to keep up with the monster talent he had burst into. At twenty-eight, his legs kept moving, but his horizon had expanded.

By then, he had bought his mom a house. He'd made a home, just as flashy as the media might have expected and somehow more comfortable than his friends had. He'd found you, one of the most important milestones in his life, and it was your home as much as it was his.

(That had been just like him, too. He'd met you and proposed six months later, a stupid, brash, impulsive twenty-three year old, but lucky for him you were stupid in love. Enough to say yes, which was all he needed, and even though his family had tried to warn you away, here you were, still kicking it with him and babysitting his brother's kids.)

The tree in the front was your idea, an old dream realized of letting the kids on the block climb all over it. The first thing Atsumu had done after moving in was hang a tire from that maple, putting his hands on his hips and relishing the weight of you leaning against him as the two of you admired his finished work.

Watching that swing hold the weight of Osamu's youngest, too little for school like his older siblings and frequenting your home while his parents worked, you assumed the same position. Atsumu stood by the tree, hands on his hips, ready to catch Teppei like he was expecting to receive a stray serve. Your head was on his shoulder, eyes half-closed as you watched with him.

"Atsumu," you said softly, quiet so that your nephew wouldn't hear. "Don't you think he looks kind of lonely?"

"Eh?" Your husband bumped his head against yours. "He entertains himself, no? And Yuki-chan and her sister from down the street should be home soon."

Teppei was entertaining himself, mumbling secret things only he could understand in his three-year old language as the tire swayed him through the air.

"No," you laughed at him, "I mean—I know we said we weren't planning for kids, but—I don't know, I get so sad when we have to give him back." You sighed wistfully, a sound that never failed to trigger some instinct in Atsumu to give you whatever you wanted immediately.

"You want one?" He slid an arm around your waist, distracted from his paternal watch. "A baby?"

"Yeah, a kid," you said, "you know, I think sometimes about one with your eyes. And getting to teach them about nature, and how to read, and maybe we could take them to the Games when they're old enough? There's a good beginner's volleyball camp around here, I'm sure. We should probably start researching universities—"

"Whoa," he said, startled. "Careful, you're gonna give me empty nest sydrome before I've even knocked you up."

You grinned at him, raising your head a little to brush your lips against his cheek.

"'Samu's gonna say this was such a bad idea," you laughed, ducking your face into his neck like you were shy after four years of marriage. "His worst nightmare is more of you."

"I raised that little twerp," he grumbled, sliding his hand down and cupping your ass. He could see it, being annoying at the playground, the two of you still honeymooning while the kid with your hair beat up the other brats. "He can't talk shit, he had fuckin' accident babies."

"We're gonna have to clean up our vocabulary," you grumble. "Plus, you're only three minutes older than him and I know you were never more mature."

"Don't talk to me like that," he said, watching Teppei spin in circles and letting go of you to stride over and lift his nephew off the swing. On the horizon, he sees himself on the volleyball court, a jacket with the word Coach stamped on the back, a bunch of ankle-biters swarming him. "Hey, kiddo, you're gonna make yourself sick. Looks like the neighbors are back, d'you wanna go play with them?"

As he hustled the toddler off towards the other children, Atsumu looked back at you.

"You sure about this? Y'know it's gonna be twins, right?"

You looked at the little hand in your husband's big one, fingers taped, one wrist slightly bent from falling out of a tree when he was eight.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

[asthroophile]

bubblegum: bonfire — SAJA BOYS

WC: 4k+

SUMMARY: a forgotten bond, fated to endure.

PART: I. SEASONS, II. LOVE, III. LILY

It’s been ten days since they started crashing at your apartment, and in those ten days, the public somehow figured out that you are their manager.

Every time you tried to go out alone, one of them would tag along—sometimes all of them. The result? A public frenzy, a storm of online theories, and a very unwanted spotlight on your life.

Now you're viral.

Fanfic versions of you are floating all over the internet. Some fans love the idea of you; they romanticize everything, shipping you with different members depending on the day. Others… not so much. They say you're unfit to manage them, unprofessional, unworthy.

Oh please, they don’t know what it’s like wrangling overgrown children in adult form. And the worst part? You won’t admit it out loud— but you’ve grown fond of them.

They made your once-quiet apartment feel less like a space and more like a home. The mess, the noise, the endless ramen packets… somehow, you didn’t hate it.

Currently, you're sitting in the living room, laptop open, working together on a new song titled "Your Idol", an idea Jinu brought up while chewing instant noodles at 3 a.m.

"Alright, alright. What if the lyric goes ‘I will love you more when it all burns down’? That could be Mystery’s part—his voice is soft, it'd really land with impact,” you suggest.

Mystery hums a bit, testing the line. The others nod in approval.

“Kay what about the concept for the outfit?” you ask.

“Jinu said he’d take care of that,” Mystery replies casually, flopped sideways on the couch.

Just then, Jinu walks out of your bedroom wearing your oversized hoodie again like he owns the place. “Heard my name,” he says with a lazy grin. “Don’t worry about the costumes— I have a vision.”

You squint at him, "Is it a good vision or a fever dream?”

He shrugs, “Why not both?”

You sigh. “This group is going to be the death of me.”

But still, you keep typing until finally the lyrics were done— mostly because Jinu insisted you wrap it up quickly, and honestly, you didn’t protest. You wanted a break too.

“Why does it feel like this song is for someone, though? Especially the part, ‘You know I’m the only one who’ll love your sins / Feel the way my voice gets underneath your skin,’” you said, raising a brow.

Jinu, who was now lounging nearby, turned his head as if you were accusing him directly, looking genuinely confused.

“It’s for his lover, duh,” Baby chimed in, leaning against you while scrolling on his brand new phone—the one you bought for him after you finally got paid by Jinu, thanks to their soda sponsorship deal.

“We’re not dating,” Jinu replied flatly, already strumming your acoustic guitar like he wasn’t just dragged into a minor interrogation.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you muttered before shifting your attention. “Abby, come sing your part.”

Abby, who had been sketching out stylized abs in your notebook looked up. “Which part?”

“The opening lines—‘Keeping you in check’ and after that, Mystery comes in, then Romance, followed by Jinu, and Baby with the rap,” you instructed, going through the lineup mentally.

Abby nodded and set aside your notebook before starting to rehearse. Ever since the public found out you were the manager of Saja Boys, your social media had been flooded with sponsorship offers—probably because no one had ever figured out the boys' accounts. You were even offered an official building just for the group. You didn’t turn it down, but you did feel a bit sad at the idea of leaving your cozy apartment.

“Okay, rehearsal’s over. Everyone, go rest at your official building now,” you said while gathering all the lyric sheets scattered around the room.

“You kicking us out?” Romance raised a brow.

“No? I mean, you guys already have your own building, your own lightsticks, your own brand, so...?”

“We’re already comfortable here,” Mystery cut in calmly.

“Oh come on, don’t say things like that. If you all insist on crashing on my apartment’s tiny couch, you're just asking for back problems. Right, Jinu?”

Jinu, who had been quietly tuning the guitar, gave a nod. “She’s right, guys. We should appreciate the people who offered us the space. Besides, (Name) will visit us whenever she wants. She’ll even watch us during practice.”

“Yup—and Jinu, stop sneaking out every night,” you added, shooting him a look. “Are you secretly dating someone and hoping we won’t find out?”

The room went dead silent.

Jinu paused mid-strum on your guitar, one brow lifting ever so slightly. “Sneaking out? I was just… taking walks.”

“Walks at midnight wearing sunglasses and a hoodie?” Romance quipped, tossing a pillow at him.

“Ooooh, sus,” Abby grinned while making exaggerated detective noises. “What are you hiding, Jinu?”

“Maybe he’s got a secret girlfriend,” Mystery added in a deadpan tone.

Baby, still leaning lazily against you with a lollipop in his mouth, made a casual but deadly assumption, “What if that girl’s one of the Huntrix members?”

“WHAT? WHO?” you stared at him in disbelief. Baby always sounded unserious—but somehow, his wild guesses tended to hit close to the truth.

“I mean, think about it,” Baby shrugged. “Since we first met Huntrix, he’s been, like, laser-focused on their leader… what’s her name again?”

“Rumi?” you echoed in shock. “WAIT, RUMI? Seriously, Jinu? You had the guts to get close to her? She’s literally an A-lister!”

You turned to Jinu like you’d just discovered a criminal in your own house. He looked cornered— eyes darting, caught mid-breath like a deer in headlights.

“Wow,” Abby gasped dramatically. “Are we witnessing an idol crossover scandal in real time?”

Romance leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. “If there’s a dispatch article tomorrow, I’m sending the link to everyone in our group chat.”

Mystery raised a single eyebrow. “This explains the sudden effort you’re putting into your skin care routine.”

Jinu groaned, covering his face with both hands. “Guys, we’re not dating. Yes, I’ve been spending time with her, but it’s not what you think. We’re just… meeting up.”

You crossed your arms. “Meeting up? Like a secret project? Or a secret relationship?”

"We talk music and deep talk but not romantically.” Jinu finally confessed. There was a beat of silence. Then—

“Sounds exactly like dating,” Baby mumbled around his candy.

“Yep, that’s a date,” Abby nodded.

“Romance confirmed,” Romance added.

“You guys are impossible,” Jinu muttered, flopping backward onto the couch and dramatically throwing a throw pillow over his face.

“Alright, that’s enough, all of you,” you said firmly. “Let’s go, back to your official base— because officially, you guys have your own place now.”

Romance let out an over-dramatic sigh. “So we’re getting kicked out again.”

“You were never supposed to live here in the first place,” you retorted.

“But your place is homey,” Abby said, already sprawled across the couch like a cat refusing to be moved.

“Cozy,” Mystery added, sipping his drink without looking at you. “The light hits better here.”

Baby leaned into your shoulder and mumbled, “I vote stay.”

You rolled your eyes. “You literally have your own dorm now. Free meals, game room, gym, real beds. And you're choosing my creaky couch?”

Jinu finally pulled the pillow off his face and sat up. “Let’s just go, guys. She's right. We need to start treating this seriously, we’re idols now. Public image and all.”

The rest of the boys groaned in unison like you’d just announced their summer was canceled.

“But…” Baby pouted. “Can we come back sometimes? Like… for dinner?”

You sighed, trying not to smile. “Only if you bring dessert.” They cheered like you’d just given them an encore stage.

You regularly visited their new base to monitor the progress of their latest song. Day by day, you found yourselves growing closer—and with that, the chaos only intensified. Now that they had their own official space, things had somehow gotten wilder. Rooms that staff had just cleaned would turn into disaster zones in a matter of hours.

“You’re making progress faster than I expected,” you admitted, flipping through your notes and nodding. “Good, let’s call it a day.” The boys let out a chorus of cheers.

Romance tossed himself dramatically onto the couch. “Finally, my brain was starting to melt.”

“You're doing nothing,” Mystery deadpanned, already scrolling through something on his tablet.

“I was providing emotional support!” Romance argued, pointing at you. “Right, Manager?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” you muttered.

Jinu stretched his arms behind his head, his usual calm demeanor cracking slightly into a tired grin. “We deserved this break though, yeah?”

Before you could reply, a loud crash echoed from down the hall.

“…What now?”

“I think that was the sound of Baby trying to microwave bubblegum again,” Abby offered nonchalantly.

You stared at him. “Again?!”

He shrugged with a guilty smile. “It’s for science.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and exhaled. “I swear, one day I’m going to handcuff you all to your beds just so I can have a single peaceful visit.”

“Sounds kinda intense, Manager,” Abby smirked. “Not that I’m judging.”

“Out! Everyone, out of the studio! Now!”

They scrambled like school kids, laughing as they disappeared down the hall—except baby, who returned with a sticky piece of melted gum stuck to his sleeve.

"Baby, what the hell were you thinking microwaving bubblegum again?" you snapped as you marched toward him, taking in his disheveled appearance and the half-melted gum clinging to his sleeve.

"I just wanted to know what warm bubblegum tastes like," he replied with zero shame, licking a bit off his thumb.

You grimaced. "Stop this madness."

Grabbing his arm, you dragged him out of the studio before he could argue. "Go change. Now. I’m not letting melted gum be your signature look on the next livestream."

“But I think it’s fashion-forward,” he pouted.

“Do it before I tape a ‘Do Not Microwave’ sign on your forehead.”

As you shoved him gently toward his room, Abby passed by, eyeing Baby’s state with an amused snort. “Is this what you call creative expression?”

“I call it a hazard,” you muttered.

You turned back toward the kitchen just in time to see Mystery stuffing something suspiciously shiny into his pocket.

“Mystery.”

He froze.

“What did you take?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly.

You narrowed your eyes, “Hand. It. Over.”

Mystery sighed and pulled out a half-melted silver spoon. “I wanted to see what else the microwave could handle.”

“WHY are all of you obsessed with microwaving things today?!”

Romance peeked his head in from behind the door. “For the record, I was reading a romance novel this whole time and didn’t commit any crimes against appliances.”

"Congratulations, you're the only one with brain cells left today."

“Thank you, I try.”

You sighed deeply. “I need a vacation or a therapist or both.”

As you turned away, Jinu leaned against the wall with that unreadable look again. “You sure you don’t need a hug?”

You stared at him. “I need peace.”

He just smiled faintly. “Same thing, right?”

"Shut up."

Now everyone was busy minding their own business, but you still had to monitor things—anything could happen because of them. Even tasks that were supposed to be handled by staff were being dumped on you, since they claimed they couldn’t handle the job anymore. Thankfully, none of them had quit yet.

You were scrolling through your social media, seeing how your account was getting more crowded with interactions, as well as the official Saja Boys account you created. You felt bad for your phone, which wouldn’t stop buzzing with notifications—until Jinu came over and sat beside you.

"What now?" you ask without looking up from your phone.

"Do you think I'm a good person?"

"In what sense of 'good'?"

"Like… understanding someone, caring about someone."

"You are good. It depends on how you define it. You can’t force someone to be good— it’s a choice they make," you say, finally turning to look at him. "Why are you asking this out of nowhere?"

Jinu shakes his head. His somber expression fades briefly, replaced with his usual annoying smirk.

"Can you touch me again?"

You're clearly shocked by the sudden request. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm perfectly sane, I just want to know if it still works."

"If what works—" Before you can finish, Jinu grabs your hand and places it on his cheek. A strange sensation rushes through you at the contact.

“Do that again and I'll punch you,” you mutter, pulling your hand away and scooting back a bit.

Jinu doesn’t answer. He stares at his own hand for a while, and you start to wonder if there’s something genuinely wrong with him.

"I didn’t mean to bring up the topic again, but… the pattern weakens when you touch me. It comes back soon after, though— because of Gwi-ma."

"So you’re saying that because I’m his daughter, I can somehow suppress the pattern? Jinu, honestly, I can’t accept that I’m his daughter. It just doesn’t make sense. Gwi-ma’s just a story from my grandma. If he really was my father, why’d he leave? Who was he really? What did he do that made my mom die? My grandma never even told me the reason."

“If you remember the story, honmoon can be sealed with the voice of the chosen hunters. The chosen were Huntrix, and Rumi... she’s a half-demon hunter—"

"Wait, what? Rumi's a hunter? Mira and Zoe too?" you ask, stunned. Jinu nods.

You still can’t believe it. “Okay, I know your sense of humor sucks, but this? This is insane. And what do you mean she’s a half-demon hunter?"

“Remember the hot spring incident? I fought her… I tore her sleeve, and I saw the pattern on her arm.”

You go silent. Just when you hoped your brain could rest from all the madness.

“Look, Jinu, it’s not like I see you guys as weird just because you’re demons. But the idea itself— of you being demons— I can’t accept it even though I’m trying to. How is that even possible? Rumi is a Hunter who's part of demon and I’m Gwi-ma’s daughter? It’s all insane. How could I be a demon’s child? He abandoned me and my mom, and my mom died because of me—and he didn’t care. Not even a little.”

You pause your words, "Please promise me, just stop dealing with Gwi-ma. Even if I keep being stubborn, even if I keep denying it— denying that all of you are demons…” your voice trails off for a moment, your eyes searching his face, desperate for any hint of guilt or regret.

“…I’m still trying to understand you. So stop doing things behind my back, stop risking everything like none of this matters.”

Jinu doesn’t say anything at first. His eyes dim slightly, as if your words hit a place he’d buried deep.

“I mean, come on—look at you guys,” you say, attempting a smile despite the weight of everything. “You look like normal people. Since when do demons have faces that attractive?”

It’s a weak joke, a desperate one. But it works—just a little. Jinu blinks at you.

“You think we’re attractive?” Jinu teases, “So you have been staring.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, glowstick. I was talking about them,” you jab your thumb toward the rest.

“Right,” he says, expression unreadable.

You let out a long sigh after your words, the air still heavy between you two. Neither of you said anything more—until Abby appeared, casually slinging both arms over your shoulders.

“You two are way too tense. Idol Awards are around the corner, so how about not acting like you’re in a cold war?”

“We’re not,” you both replied at the same time—awkwardly, of course.

“Tch, exactly what someone fighting would say,” Romance teased from behind the door, clearly eavesdropping. One by one, the others started to gather, watching you like hawks. Wait, why were you the one getting stared down.

“What’s with you guys? Chill!” you blurted out, trying to deflect the attention. “I just… need time to process some crazy info, that’s all. Anyway! Let’s focus—tomorrow’s gonna be chaos, and don’t even think about starting anything. My kitchen pans miss smacking some of you in the head.”

They all exchanged glances, some grinning like guilty kids, others wisely keeping their mouths shut.

Mystery raised a brow. “Should we be concerned that you have multiple pans dedicated to violence?”

“Ask yourself why I even needed to in the first place.”

Baby gasped in mock offense. “I’m the picture of peace!”

“You’re the reason the microwave cried.”

Baby looked annoyed at your response, clearly not amused. You stood from your seat and faced them all, clapping your hands lightly.

“Alright, give it your best tomorrow, okay? I’m really looking forward to your performance.” You flashed them a thumbs-up.

Your watch beeped right then, signaling the end of visiting hours—you had to head back to your apartment.

“You leaving already?” Romance asked.

“I have work outside of babysitting you guys, you know,” you replied. But the way Romance narrowed his eyes, clearly not satisfied with the answer, made you second-guess saying that.

“Well, see you all tomorrow.” You grabbed your sling bag from the table and turned to leave—only to feel a tug on your shirt.

You looked back. “What is it now?”

Baby didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at you with unreadable eyes before asking softly,

“Do you think… you’d be okay with it?”

“Okay with what?”

“A hug.”

You blinked. For once, Baby wasn’t joking. His tone was gentle—not his usual cheeky self, not the chaos-bringer everyone knew. It was… vulnerable?

Your first instinct was to laugh it off. But something about the way he asked made your breath hitch just slightly. His hand still gripped the edge of your shirt, like he was afraid you’d leave without answering.

You stared at him for a beat longer.

“Well…” You exhaled, your voice caught between teasing and softness. “…You’re asking for permission now? That’s new.”

Baby didn’t say anything, just tilted his head slightly like he was waiting—nervous, maybe. It wasn’t like him at all, and maybe that’s what made you pause.

You glanced over your shoulder. The others were pretending not to watch but were definitely eavesdropping from the couch—Romance leaning dramatically behind the cushions, Jinu pretending to check his phone upside down, Abby munching on chips way too loudly to be casual, and Mystery not even bothering to hide the way he was observing you like a hawk.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, just one, a short one.” The moment the words left your lips, Baby stepped forward and pulled you into a quiet hug. Not too tight, just… warm.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until your cheek lightly brushed his shoulder. For someone usually sticky with melted candy or chaotic ideas, Baby felt oddly calm in that moment. Like he just needed this. Like you maybe needed it too.

“…You smell like bubblegum,” you muttered against him.

“I am bubblegum,” he mumbled back, tone dry.

You snorted, patting his back. “Alright, that’s enough.”

“That wasn’t even a full minute.”

“Baby.” You gave him a warning tone, and he pulled away, albeit reluctantly.

Then your gaze flicked to the four other boys, who were definitely watching you now—like kids who saw someone get a cookie and were waiting for theirs.

You sighed. “Okay, alright. Come on, all of you. One at a time."

Romance lit up like a firework. “I knew being annoying would pay off!”

He bounced over dramatically and wrapped you in a theatrical embrace, even spinning you a little.

“Put me down before I revoke this!” you scolded through laughter. He obeyed—barely—then stepped aside for Mystery, who was already standing silently in front of you.

You braced for something awkward, but to your surprise, Mystery’s hug was firm and quiet, solid like a wall of quiet reassurance. No words exchanged—just understanding.

Next was Jinu, who gave a small chuckle. “I thought you’d never offer.” His hug was easy, familiar, and warm in that quiet, grounding way that only Jinu could manage.

Abby was last, but he didn’t hesitate. “Bet you saved the best for last,” he joked, squeezing you a bit tighter than expected and grinning against your shoulder. “We’re gonna do great tomorrow.”

You smiled, pulling away and giving them all a final look. “I know you will. Just… try not to set anything on fire. Emotionally or literally.”

Romance saluted. “No promises.”

You rolled your eyes, finally walking toward the exit. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. Rest well, okay?”

“Goodnight, Manager!” they called in chaotic unison.

And as you stepped out the door, you couldn’t help but smile. They really were a mess—but they were your mess. A hug, such a simple thing and yet it felt like something shifted tonight.

You shook your head, laughing under your breath, "Boys."

You came home from their base feeling genuinely happy—thankfully, they hadn’t caused chaos this time. You relished the rare peace until a sudden, deafening sound pierced your ears. It was so loud it felt like your eardrums might burst. You clenched your eyes shut, hands flying up to your ears in pain.

Then, everything went silent.

When you opened your eyes… you were no longer in your room. You stood in a pitch-black place.

“You’re just as stubborn as your mother,” a deep voice said.

“…Gwi-ma?”

“Yes, it’s me… my child. Didn’t I warn you not to grow attached to anything? In the end, it only brings you suffering.”

“What do you mean? If you’re talking about them—”

“Your little boyband?” Gwi-ma sneered, having caught on to what you were saying. “What you’re doing is a grave mistake. Supporting them at that final event will only weaken the seal on Honmoon. And then, I will finally conquer this world.”

“You’re insane,” you spat. “I don’t care if you’re immortal or what—but you’re a lunatic and a horrible father.”

“You don’t bear my mark,” he said darkly, “but you carry half of what I am. I should have destroyed you. But your mother… she was too stubborn. She chose to die in your place.”

“YOU’RE THE REASON SHE’S DEAD?” you shouted, your voice trembling with rage. The weight of guilt—of knowing she died because of you—turned to fire in your chest.

“For five lifetimes,” Gwi-ma said calmly. “Think how foolish we’ve been. Your mother, trying to keep you untainted… and me, letting you roam free. In the end, all you’ve done is bring me closer to victory. Just watch, my child—those boys you care for? They’ll forget you. Once Honmoon shatters, I’ll erase the voices—and with it, their memories of you.”

You stood frozen. As much as you wanted to scream at him, every word he spoke sank into your bones like poison. It was true—he was your father. But hearing him say he was the reason your mother died… was unbearable.

“Choose,” he said. “Give in… and become one with me. Or die, like your mother, because of that foolish attachment inside you.”

You clenched your fists.

“I’d rather die,” you growled, “than become anything like you—selfish, cruel, and drunk on power.”

Gwi-ma laughed—a deep, echoing roar that shook the void around you.

“The hunters will never seal me, (Name). Your defiance means nothing. I am this close to victory.”

“Then if they can’t stop you,” you snapped, "I will. As your child— I’ll be the one who destroys you.”

His laughter stopped. He growled, voice now filled with rage, and in the next second—he hurled you out of the darkness.

You jolted awake, gasping for breath, heart pounding violently in your chest. You were back in your bed.

“…What the hell was that…?” you muttered, your head throbbing from the force of being thrown.

Your hands were trembling. You could still feel his presence. Still hear his voice.

You threw yourself onto the bed, unable to handle the truth that had just been forced upon you. You were Gwi-ma’s child. No matter how many times you tried to deny it, there was no escaping it now.

Your chest felt heavy. Suffocating.

"How did Mom ever fall for something like him... for five lifetimes?" Your voice trembled. Then, a terrifying thought clawed its way into your mind.

"Wait..." your eyes widened. "Baby once asked me if I had forgotten him... Does that mean—what Gwi-ma meant by five lifetimes... is them? All five of them?"

It all started to click, like puzzle pieces snapping into place. Your past lives, the boys, Gwi-ma’s sudden return. There was something ancient tied to all of you.

You let out a long, exhausted breath.

"How the hell am I supposed to erase Gwi-ma from existence..." you muttered, dragging your hand down your face. "No one deserves a father like him. World's worst dad, no competition."

Your gaze shifts toward your closet, something glinting from a narrow gap like it was calling out to you. You squinted suspiciously. "What now..." you stepped closer, slowly pulling the door open.

“…A bow?” you muttered in disbelief, blinking at the object leaning neatly against the back wall.

You picked it up, brow furrowed. “Why the hell do I even have this?”

Then it clicked. “Oh—right. This was from Grandma… before she left for good.” Your voice softened at the memory.

As soon as your fingers fully curled around the bow's shaft, a strange sensation rushed through you—like something ancient had just reconnected. A sudden weight pressed behind your eyes. You gasped as a soft voice, smooth and steady, echoed faintly in your ears:

"We’ve waited so long for this moment, (Name)… Please use it. Use my bow. Forgive me for the burden I’ve passed onto you, but when it ends, you’ll be free. Truly free—and at peace.”

Your breath hitched. That voice—gentle, low, almost sorrowful— it felt like the kind of voice ghosts have when they’ve waited centuries.

You swallowed hard. “Oh God, what kind of mess do I have to clean up this time..."

You dragged your hand down your face, tired and annoyed, then looked back down at the glowing bow in your hand.

You? With a bow? You didn’t even know how to use a bow, let alone how to fight with one. And now what? You were expected to wield this like some chosen warrior?

“…God help me,” you muttered. "If what that voice meant was killing Gwi-ma… with this weapon, with my own hands," you groaned, staring down at the bow in your grip. It felt heavy—not in weight, but in meaning.

"I don’t even know what he looks like… but does this count as premeditated murder?" you muttered sarcastically, joking with yourself to take the edge off your spiraling thoughts.. But your laugh faded quickly, because deep down, you knew it wasn’t a joke.

The bow vibrated faintly in your grasp—like it understood everything you just said. Like it was agreeing.

You stood there in silence, the weight of what you were being asked to do crashing in. You were just a manager. A tired, overworked, slightly underpaid human being. And now apparently chosen to end something ancient, something no one dared name out loud.

You exhaled sharply.

“Right, sure. Because this is normal, totally something people go through on a Tuesday night.”

You stare at the bow in your hands for a full minute before exhaling sharply through your nose. “Okay. Let’s say I believe all this, let’s say I really am supposed to kill some ancient demon-father-monster thing. What then? Am I supposed to just know how to use this?”

You hold the bow up, awkwardly, turning it in your grip.

"...Right. The string goes this way, I think?"

It creaks slightly, like it’s been asleep for a long time. You frown, then spot the lone arrow still lying on the closet floor, half-glowing with a soft gradient of violet and pale blue. Its pointed tip gleams faintly with a pink shimmer, casting a subtle glow on the floor. The moment you pick it up, a strange warmth buzzes up your arm—not hot, but like the feeling of being seen.

"Okay, arrow, bow, me. Yeah, just like a video game, right? How hard can it be?"

You walk to the center of your living room, push aside your laundry pile with your foot, and hold up the bow in front of your body.

Your arms shake just from pulling the string back. The bow resists you—not in a violent way, but like it’s measuring you. Testing you.

"Ugh, this is embarrassing," you mutter. "If someone walks in on me right now I swear—"

Your fingers slip. The arrow looses itself—not at a target, not even close.

It sings through the air, crashing into your favorite bookshelf with a loud thud. A few dusty pieces of old fanmerch tumble down in its wake.

You stand there, jaw dropped, arrow humming where it's now impaled halfway into the wall.

"Holy sh—"

The crack still echoes in the air, sharp and violent. You stare at your poor wall, the arrow now buried halfway into the plaster, humming like it’s laughing at you. A hairline fracture spread from the impact, dust trailing down like snowflakes.

You stepped back, examining your handiwork—or lack thereof. The arrow hummed faintly where it had embedded itself, as if pleased with the damage it caused. Of course, the wall hadn’t done anything to deserve that.

You’re just about to try pulling the arrow out when—

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

You flinched. Another knock, louder this time.

“Miss? Everything alright in there?”

Oh no.

You rush toward the door and crack it open just a bit. Outside stands your neighbor from 5B—the old man who always waters his plants three times a day and glares at everyone like they’re walking sins.

His eyes squint at you. “Did something fall? It sounded like an earthquake just hit your unit. Again.”

You force a smile. “Oh! No, no! Everything’s fine! Just, uh… trying a new stretching routine!”

“…That sounded like a wall cracking in half.”

“Well, I’m very dedicated to my fitness,” you say, still blocking the open door with your body like it’s some kind of crime scene. "Cardio. With style."

The old man doesn’t buy it. You can tell by how his nose twitches, like he can smell your lies through the door.

He sniffed the air, eyes narrowing further. “Smells like something’s burning, metal?”

You blinked. Crap. That must’ve been the bow—or the arrow. Or maybe the strange magic binding them together. Whatever it was, it wasn’t scented candles.

“Essential oils,” you blurted. “Helps with stress.”

A long pause.

“…Kids these days,” he muttered before turning away, shaking his head. “If you burn the place down, I’m not helping carry your furniture."

You quickly shut the door behind him, heart pounding.

“…Note to self,” you say aloud, turning back to the mess. “No more practicing indoors unless I want to be exorcised by the building committee.”

You turned back to the wall. The arrow was still there, but the glow around it had faded. You stepped closer, fingers brushing the shaft—and the moment your fingers graze it, the glow surges—light coils around the shaft, twisting upward like ivy, and then poof—it vanishes, leaving nothing behind but a neat hole in your wall and the strange echo of a voice in your head.

“Better aim next time.”

You blink.

“…Did I just get mocked by a weapon?”

The bow, resting innocently nearby, vibrated faintly. As if laughing.

You sigh and drag a hand down your face. "I’m losing it, completely. I just got roasted by a medieval stick.”

Still, something inside you is shifting. The bow feels lighter now, and you didn’t feel as unsure holding it.

Even if the idea still terrified you.

“If I’m dreaming and all of this is just some fantasy hallucination, please—God—wake me up. I don’t want to live in a fantasy world,” you muttered under your breath, dragging your feet toward your room.

You set the bow down gently, right where you found it—half-hidden in that strange crevice in your wardrobe. It didn’t glow this time. Didn’t vibrate. Just rested there, quietly, as if pretending it hadn’t just sent a crack through your apartment wall five minutes ago.

You stepped back, staring at it like it might come to life again.

“…Stay,” you told it, like it was a disobedient pet.

Then, with a tired sigh, you turned off your light and collapsed onto your bed face-first.

Everything felt surreal. The kind of weird that clung to your skin and refused to be washed off. The voice in your head. The glowing arrow. The magical explosion. And now, a bow that mocked your aim and vanished arrows into nothingness.

Maybe it was a dream, or maybe you were losing your mind.

PART: I. SEASONS, II. LOVE, III. LILY

🧘🏻‍♀️ ALRIGHT better get yourselves ready for the next chapter XDD🐈‍⬛

tag list XD : @luluprincess230lp, @snowy-violet, @brights-place, @kashasenpai , @nubyeol

© asthroophile 2025. All rights reserved. Do not copy, redistribute, or reproduce without explicit permission.

[strawwbyy]

what kind of yandere are the 7 demon kings?

According to me~

Satan is the violent type.

The type of yandere that utilizes violence and force for everything he wants and needs. He would never harm you, of course... unless he really needs to.

He only cares about his beloved, and keeping them close to him, and he is very familiar and comfortable with harming others to ensure your safety (and that you never leave him). Anyone who dares come in between him and you WILL be attacked eventually.

He is not insanely obsessive. He doesn't have to worry, since people will learn pretty quick not to mess with him.

Erratic, angry and aggressive. He doesn't plan or bother with strategics: he is straight-forward with his impulses and is not above puttting hands on you if you're crossing the line. Of course, he'll never hurt you significantly, but if you step on his toes on a particularily bad day you might end up on the floor.

But, at the end of the day, he's always there for you, and wants nothing more than to cuddle and kiss you. You're terrified of him, but you also can't help but melt into his touch when you lay together, knowing that you'll forgive him the next morning.

Mammon is the two-faced type.

He would never, ever hurt you. This doesn't include only physical pain, but also mental. He doesn't want you to bother your pretty little head thinking about what he does for you. You're his obsession, and he spends every second of his life ensuring you'll be with him forever.

Why is no one talking to me anymore? Why can't I leave the palace? Why hasn't anyone even looked my way lately? He'll scoop you into his arms the second he notices your body language is off, to comfort you and take care of you until all your fears go away.

He will tell you he doesn't want you to stress out, and that you'll be fine since he is here. Deep down though, he doesn't want you to ask anything because then you'll start to doubt him. This will lead to disobedience and maybe even fear, and he can't have that.

To you, he's an angel. Your only love, the one that's always there for you when everyone else turns their backs. But to everyone else, he's a ruthless manipulator. He'll pull all the strings to keep you trapped with him, physically and mentally. Whatever he needs to do, he will, be it using his power as King or resorting to violence.

But of course, you will never know what he does for you. He makes sure of it.

Leviathan is the ruthless type.

He will go above and beyond to keep you from running from him. He doesn't care what you think of him, or how you see him. In fact, it's better if you're scared of him, because that means you know better than to try to defy him.

To his subordinates, he is essentially a dictator. He rules with an iron fist, and will go as far as to kill to send out a message. So, everyone has learned to obey him. When he's not around, his nobles will be sure to keep an eye on you and use force if you so as much think about running away.

He has strict rules for you, and if you break one there will be punishment. Most of the time it's some sort of solitary confinement, but greater mistakes come with greater punishments, and hurting you isn't beyond him. Most of the time though, he prefers letting his nobles do it instead of him (even if they don't want to), standing close behind so you know that he controls everything and everyone here, including you.

Even though he doesn't try to look loving to you, he still manipulates you. He's the first person you see after weeks of being locked away, and will beckon for you to come to him. He'll hug, kiss and touch you after punishments and when you're good, training you to love him even if you're scared. He'll make you his perfect darling, and you'll eventually start seeing him as the only person who truly loves you.

Beelzebub is the clingy type.

Beelzebub really, really likes you. And is also really, really touchy. It makes you really uncomfortable, but overtime you might get used to it.

He not only loves touching you and holding you all the time, but it's also a great way to keep you in line. No matter where you are, or who is around to see, he'll constantly have his hands on you, be it in a PDA way or in a sexual way. You're embarrassed all the time, but he couldn't care less, and you're definetely not going to fight him. You tried once, and it didn't end very well.

Through his constant clingyness, you learn to be obedient and let him do what he wants. Humilliation is a great tactic, and after being glued to him for so long, the feeling of being alone and away from him becomes even worse, essentially making you dependant on him overtime.

Of course, he's still as nomadic as always. You never have a seconds rest. This man is unquenchable, always moving around and taking you with him on every trip. Even at night you barely get any sleep, because he takes every opportunity to have sex with you. He loves doing it with you and is obsessed with your body, plus it gives you even more of an emotional attachment, it's a double win for him. Two birds one stone.

Sometimes, if you've been really misbehaving and get on his nerves, he'll use sex and constant travelling as an excuse to deprive you of sleep, and he won't let you shut your eyes until you beg for his forgiveness and become perfectly obedient once again. He loves the look of desperation and exhaustion on your eyes.

Lucifer is the volatile type.

Lucifer is unpredictable. He can be many things depending on the day, his mood, and your attitude. It's scary because you never know what's going to set him off.

One day, he could be acting sweet, worrying about you and trying to make you as happy as possible (even if he's always keeping you trapped with him). Sometimes he lets you leave and take a little vacation, hanging out with other devils, going to eat somewhere, etcetera.

But other days, he acts like a warden and won't let you leave his sight at any moment. In those days, he puts aside your comfort and instead prefers to indulge himself with you. Touching you or having you in his arms: but he does let you touch him too. But, even in those moments where you feel like you love him, you still have to be careful. One wrong move, and he might be hissing like a cat, and on worse ocassions he might bite you, really hard.

You never know what he's going to be like. Every second with him feels like walking on eggshells. Overtime, he becomes more and more posessive, and will even harm others if he thinks they've overstepped their place. You never know how to truly satisfy him, he's a strange and volatile man who is not beyond hurting you if he thinks you deserve it. But, he always hugs you after, and reassures that he does what he does for you. But you're not so sure.

Belphegor is the captor type.

Belphegor has a lot of people on his side. You wonder how sometimes, he's practically never awake and does essentially nothing, but he still has so many loyal followers. Very, very loyal. Loyal enough to obey his every command, going past what they would normally do just because their King ordered them to do it.

Since Belphegor doesn't bother with stupid things, he definetely won't bother with you. You running away is the most annoying thing he could ever think of, it makes no sense, he'll get you back every single time. You might as well be doing it just out of spite. So, to prevent this absolute headache of a situation, he uses his subordinates to keep you completely captive every single second of your life.

Most of the time you'll be in his room. It's dreadful: boring, hot and lonely. Sometimes Beleth is there, but most of the time he won't talk to you to avoid angering his King.

The first days you spent alone with Belphegor got you bored enough to try and run. The door is usually locked, but that time someone left it open. You took your chance and ran down the hallways, just to be met with the ever obedient Beleth. Everytime this happened, no matter who you encountered, the nobles looked upset. Not bothered, but just sad to see you outside. And everytime, they would drag you back to Belphegors room with violence, grabbing you harshly or even pulling your hair. You'd always end up back there, crying on the floor, and they'd always look miserable as they locked you inside, like they didn't want to treat you like this, but they had to. Orders are orders. And of course, Belphegor would always be awake waiting for you, to punish you and make sure you never think of doing this again.

Asmodeus is the lustful type.

I know, i know. It's obvious. But hear me out. Asmodeus doesn't usually get attached to anyone: he has sex with basically everything and everyone that has a pulse around him. But, for some unfortunate reason, he decided to get obsessed with you.

He doesn't bother with plans, strategy, or his image. He wants you all the time, so he will have you. It's a mind-break of sorts, only through sex. You've never tried to run from him, because you literally can't. Since the first moment he took you to his chambers, you never left. You're always exhausted, sweaty and drained, too embarrassed and tired to try to escape. Even if you fight him, you know he'll always get what he wants from you.

After holding you captive like this for sometime, he started ending his day-long sessions with "i love you"s. Caressing you without sexual intent, kissing you gently and holding you close. The first times this made you want to cry. The more he became attached to you, the less chance you'd have of ever living a normal life again, and you knew this. But overtime, you'd come to like his touch. It was refreshing, being treated with love after being nothing but a sex doll to Asmodeus for so long. It was like a reward, something to look forward to in your current desolate life.

But, Asmodeus can get bored. He got experimental overtime, and he found that a great way of approaching things was orgies. He loved them before, but he loves them even more now that he can play with your mind through them. He'll bring over countless demons and let them have their way with you. Eventually you stopped fighting sex, instead accepting it, it was easier, and this way you could get some physical pleasure even if your heart and mind were broken. And, after getting used by so many roughly, he was there to be the light in your life.

He'd hold you close, kiss you and tell you he loves you. But it warmed your heart even more after these sessions. He was the only one who touched you with sweetness and love, and you started to feel like you loved him too. After an orgy, he would refrain from having sex with you. He really, really wanted to, but it would spoil the thing he was building. Your love for him.

[xoey101]

☾𖤓 ; @im-just-here-ppl asked: “Hey I was wondering if you could do something with Zayne where he ties you up with either rope or his tie all because you gave him attitude so something like an attitude adjustment if you know what I mean but it is up to you also I love your work don't stop doing what you're doing ❤️❤️❤️”

nsfw (18+), includes fem!reader, light bondage (wrists), cunnilingus, fingering. likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated :)

wc: 1k

a/n: been so busy with work and studying so this took a minute but enjoyyy!!

as a doctor, zayne can’t help but constantly offer up little ways that you can improve your health.

“drink more water, it’s necessary for your energy,” he says.

“don’t lay down immediately after eating, it hinders digestion.”

“if you sleep on your back, it’ll keep your spine aligned.”

and even though zayne only means well, you’ve begun to feel like all his tips ands comments are just nagging.

one day, he’s telling you that you should stop purchasing those energy drinks of yours when you snap on him.

“zayne, i’m a grown woman for fuck’s sake. stop treating me like a child and focus on your patients who actually need help!” your voice, filled with pent-up anger, almost makes zayne flinch.

but he doesn’t say anything; he stills completely, face filled with pain. the air between you two feels taut with tension, bearing down on your shoulders like heavy weights. you quickly regret what you’ve said, ridiculing yourself internally.

“hey, zayne,” you approach him, whispering softly. “i—i’m sorry— i don’t know why i freaked out like that…” your voice trails off, and you can only feel pathetic as he simply stares at you.

he sighs plainly, and turns to walk back to his room. you decide to just let him, hoping that a little space with give both of you time to cool off.

but, something in your brain tells you to call out for him, tell him sorry one more time. and so you do.

“zayne, please—don’t walk away. i’m sorry, i’ll make it up to you, just don’t leave,” you sound almost desperate, pleading with him though your eyes to forgive you so you don’t feel awful.

“do you think you can?” he asks you coldly. “make it up to me, that is.”

you nod your head eagerly. “yes, i’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you, and i really do mean whatever.”

the corners of his lips turn up, just enough to give you the encouragement you need.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you,” you repeat, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

wordlessly, he kisses you back, and you feel his shoulders drop—almost like he’s relieved, and he kisses you even deeper. soon enough, the two of you are almost tangeled in each other, pressed together with need and desire.

zayne pulls away, breath slightly shaky from the overwhelming heat of the kiss.

“do you really want to make it up to me?” his eyes search your face for approval.

you nod your head yes, and zayne pulls you into his room without wasting another second.

kissing every inch of your flesh as he undresses you, you end up splayed out on zayne’s grey comforter as he stares down at you. his cold eyes scan over your body like he’s trying to ingrain this view into his psyche so that he’ll never forget it.

reaching his long fingers up to his neck, he pulls his tie off. and with the precision of a surgeon, he loops the fabric around your wrists, tying the knot taught.

“zayne, i’m sorry, i really am,” you chant, feeling even guiltier now that he’s got you like this.

he shushes you gently, “there’s no need to be sorry now. just be good and take what i give you.”

ghosting his fingers up your arms, he places his thumb to your chin, tilting it up. “and make sure you look at me. it’s too late to cower away now,” he whispers.

you train your eyes on his chilly gaze, watching in awe as he leans over and dips his fingers down to graze your core.

“you’re soaked,” he murmurs, lost in his own thoughts of the awful things he wants to do to you.

his expression is too intense; feverish and discerning, like he’ll see through your soul if he stares long enough.

avoiding his gaze, you turn your cheek to him and fix your eyes on the little rug across from his bed.

“eyes,” he says patiently, waiting for you look at him.

and the second that you do, zayne latches his lips on to you like a starved man.

pressing the flat of his tongue against your bud, he mumbles something about your taste as you cry out, voice wracked with pleasure.

you try to grip the sheets, his hair, anything, forgetting that you’re bound.

and keen as ever, zayne reaches up to take hold of your wrists, pressing them into your stomach so that you can’t even squirm.

“you’re doing so good at making it up to me,” he pants out before lapping at your clit again.

chin drenched in your slick, he continues his assault on your sex, drawing helpless whines from your lips as you try not to buck your hips into his mouth.

“mm—zayne—“ you stammer out, words whisked away by the filthy sensation of his tongue.

he looks up at you, eyebrow cocked as if to say, “yes, dear?” and you beg him to just let you finish already.

suckling your clit as he slips his middle two fingers into your wetness, you feel that distinct coil in your stomach tighten.

“zayne, zayne, please don’t stop,” you plead with him, restraint gone as you roll your hips into him, closer than ever.

“that’s it,” he encourages you. “just let go.”

and with that, your eyes squeeze shut, body tensing up as white-hot pleasure blooms in your core, forcing your thighs to quiver helplessly as zayne rubs small circles against your thigh.

with a large sigh, you let you head slump back against the mattress, still shaking from the aftershocks of your climax.

lifting himself up with toned arms, zayne sits up, admiring your blissful expression.

“you kept your promise, didn’t you?” he chuckles, voice laced with amusement.

nodding wordlessly, you just smile at him.

“this means you’ll listen to my advice from now on, right?” he prods, taking advantage of how pliable you are at the moment.

you giggle. “maybee….” grasping his hand delicately.

absentmindedly, you wonder if you should try yelling at zayne more often.

⟢ zoey’s masterlist !

[ateezscupid]

─── 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, 𝒀𝑶𝑼.. ꕮ 007 ─ Devil's Tango.

SUMMARY / Overwhelmed by what you know, you try to end things with Yunho out of the blue. Realizing that you know, and you're serious about breaking up, he does whatever he can to keep you.

WARNINGS ✩ SMUT, ANGST, Sensitive Topics!! (death, murder, stalking, abuse), yunho finds out reader knows about who he's killed and tries to keep you, he yells like, once, unprotected sex, dom femme!reader, slight dom/sub dynamics, choking, degrading

WORD COUNT ✩ 4,05k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @lezleeferguson-120 @hwallazia @hoe4yunho @prettylilack @lustfxq @shownumiss @hwxbibi@nneteyamss @joonhasjiminsjams @herpoetryprincess @napipope-ta @wyrated @leeseokiwi @trinityobsessesovatings @kittykat-25 @yourallaround-simp @ewsnup @kysstar @tunafishyfishylike @hwxbibi @hannieblue128 @piecessoull @heiswan @0323yuyu1024

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST / REQUEST ─── Next Chapter ౨ৎ 

It was decided.

You had to leave him.

Yunjin almost flipped when you first told her about everything you found out about Yunho. She was livid, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief as she paced back and forth in the dimly lit room. "We have to tell someone," she insisted, her voice shaking with fear and anger. "We can't just let him get away with this!"

"I-I can't just out him like that! A-And besides, um, he might not even do good in prison! Look, it's─I-I can fix him!" You stuttered out, desperation lacing every word. Yunjin stopped pacing and looked at you with a mix of pity and anger.

"You can't fix a monster," she spat.

"H-He's not a monster! He loves me, h-he told me he wanted to change!" You protested weakly, your voice shaking as Yunjin's harsh words hit you like a ton of bricks.

"Love? Love doesn't make someone a killer, Y/N! You're in fucking denial!" She yelled back, throwing her hands in the air.

You felt a tear slide down your cheek as you clutched your phone, the evidence of Yunho's dark secrets hidden within it. "I-I just… I want to help him."

Yunjin's expression softened a bit, she took a deep breath and sat next to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You can't save everyone, and you shouldn't have to carry this burden alone. You're not responsible for his actions."

"H-He told me he wanted to change, though." You murmured, clutching onto the hope as if it were a lifeline. "He… he said he felt something for me that was different."

"Different from what? Different from the thrill of the kill?" Yunjin's voice was gentle, but firm. "You can't ignore what he's done. What if he does it again?"

You swiped at the tears, feeling a knot form in your throat. "But what if I can change him?"

"If you're actually able to change him, then I'll be impressed," Yunjin said with a skeptical look. "But if not, you have to promise me you'll get out. You can't risk your life for someone like that."

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words sink in. "I know. I'll talk to him tonight."

The morning after sleeping over, Yunho told you he had to pick up his sketchbook from his apartment and asked if you wanted to come with. You nodded, feeling a mix of dread and hope. Maybe if you saw the person behind the monster, you could convince him to change. The drive there was filled with awkward silence, the tension palpable in the air.

When you arrived, his apartment was clean and organized, the same way it was yesterday when you had to grab your book. But now, it felt eerie, as if the walls were closing in on you with every step you took. You followed him into the living room, your heart racing with every beat. "I, uh, need to talk to you, Yunho," you began, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Hold on a sec, I'll be right back. My book's in my room." He said with a small smile, disappearing down the hallway. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. As you heard his footsteps fade, you pulled out your phone, your fingers trembling as you typed out a text to Yunjin. 'I'm at his place. I'll keep you updated. Stay safe, okay?'

Wait.

Something felt off.

You looked at his bedroom door. You felt a chill run up your spine. Something was off but you couldn't quite figure out what it was. You decided to follow him. "Yunho?" You called out softly as you walked down the hallway. The apartment was eerily quiet except for the faint sound of a TV in the background. "Yunho?" You called out again, a bit louder this time.

You grabbed onto his door handle and pushed it open, only to find his room as neat as the rest of the apartment. The TV played a news report on mute, and his bed was made with sharp hospital corners. But something didn't sit right with you. You felt like you were being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as you scanned the room.

He wasn't anywhere to be found. "Yunho?" You called out, louder this time. The TV flickered in the otherwise still room. You took a cautious step in, glancing around for any sign of him. Your heart was racing now. Something was definitely off. You heard a soft thud from the closet. You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

You saw his head peek from the closet, a sheepish smile on his face. "Surprise," he whispered, stepping out with his favorite sketchbook in hand. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. You knew you couldn't ignore what you had found out about him anymore.

"I thought something happened since you got so quiet," You said, trying to play it cool despite the thud of your heart in your chest.

"Hm." He chuckles softly, tapping his fingers on his sketchbook as he glances back toward his closet. "You, uh, you went through my stuff?"

Your heart dropped.

You took a step back, your voice shaking as you held up your phone. "N-no, I just… I just dropped my phone, and it, uh, hit the floor," you lied, hoping he couldn't see the fear in your eyes.

"You dropped your phone yesterday… and it ended up in my closet?" He tilts his head with a small smile on his face. You nod rapidly, hoping your lie would hold up. "Huh."

You gulp, trying to calm the storm brewing in your chest. "I-I should go," you mumble, taking a step back toward the door.

And within seconds, his hand was on the door, slamming it shut before you could react. Panic flooded through you like a tsunami. "Yunho, w-what are you doing?" You stuttered out, trying to push the door open. It didn't budge.

"You know, don't you?" Yunho's smile faded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stepped closer to you. "That's why you've been scared of me."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about.." You say, your voice shaking as you take a step back from him. His eyes bore into yours, searching for the truth.

"Don't lie to me," He says, his voice dangerously low. "You've been acting differently ever since I came over last night."

You swallow hard, trying to keep the fear from showing on your face. "I-I just, I had a weird dream, that's all."

"What has Yunjin been telling you?" He asks, his tone still calm but the tension in his body was unmistakable.

"N-nothing," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just, you know, girl talk."

"Stop─fucking lying to me!" His voice raises in an instant, and you jump, eyes wide as his grip tightens on the doorknob. The smile is gone, replaced with a look so intense it's like a punch to the gut. "You know what the fuck I've done and now you're-"

"We need to breakup!" You blurt out, your voice quivering as you hold onto the doorknob behind you for support. "I-I can't do this anymore."

Yunho's eyes flickered with surprise, then anger. "What do you mean?" He asked, taking a step closer.

"It's just… I-I don't think we're good for each other," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You're breaking up with me? Because of what, a bad dream?" His tone is mocking, but his eyes are cold.

"B-Because─because you're a fucking murderer!" You blurt out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Yunho's expression goes from shock to fury in an instant. His face contorted into a snarl. "You don't know what you're talking about," he says through gritted teeth.

"I saw the photos, Yunho," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "The ones of the girls. And the knives and the- the phones you took from them! I know what you do!"

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before the anger set in. "You don't know shit," he says, his voice low and menacing. "You think you can just come in here and accuse me of shit like that?"

"I saw the fucking teeth, Yunho! Fuck!" You yell, your voice shaking as the realization hits him like a brick wall. His eyes narrow, the anger in them growing colder.

"The teeth?" He repeats, his voice low, almost a whisper. "How the fuck did you-"

"Yeah, okay? I did go through your closet! A-And I found the safe and the broken floorboard!" You reply, voice trembling as you try to keep your cool.

Yunho's face morphs from anger to confusion. "How did you…?"

"It doesn't matter," you cut him off, the tremor in your voice betraying your fear. "We're done."

He bites the inside of his cheek. "No. You're not serious."

"I am." You nod, trying to sound firm. "We-we can't do this anymore."

Yunho only chuckles, his hand landing on your waist. "You're not serious and I can tell. You really wanna end this? You wanna leave me?"

"Y-yes," you stutter, trying to push him away, but his grip only tightens.

"You know, you're pretty good at playing games," Yunho says, his smile returning, but it's not the warm, gentle one you're used to. It's cold, calculating. "But I know you love me. You can't just throw that away because of some photos you don't understand."

You try to shake your head, but his grip on your waist tightens, pulling you closer to him. "You're scared right now, I get it. But I can explain-"

"No, Yunho. I'm not playing games," you say, your voice shaking as you try to push him away again. "I-I really do wanna leave."

He didn't say anything. Only staring into your eyes as if hoping you'd take it back, hoping you'd change your mind and that you didn't mean it. But you did. You meant every single word. And the second realization hit him, tears began to well in his eyes.

"Yunho-"

"Y/N. C'mon, you're not serious," Yunho says, his voice cracking slightly as he tries to laugh it off. "You're just saying that to get a reaction." His grip on your waist loosens a bit, but he doesn't let go completely.

You swallow hard, trying to keep the fear from showing on your face. "I-I am serious," you reply, your voice shaking. "I can't be with someone who does… those things. W-Who kills people. I don't feel safe knowing you could kill me one day!-"

"I wouldn't ever hurt you! I-I swear," Yunho says, his voice shaky as he searches your face for any signs of doubt. "You're different, Y/N. You're the one I want to keep." His eyes are pleading, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip through your shirt.

You look at him, the man who had brought you so much joy and fear in such a short amount of time. "Yunho, I-I don't know if I can believe that anymore," you whisper, your voice cracking. You feel a tear slip down your cheek.

"Y/N, please. You know I love you," Yunho says, his grip on you tightening again, his eyes searching yours desperately. "You can't just throw that away."

"Yunho, I said I can't-"

"Please. I'll do anything I-I'll─fuck, I'll show you now!" Yunho's voice was frantic, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. He knew you were scared, he could feel it, but he also knew you still had feelings for him. "Look at me," he whispered, his thumb brushing away your tear. "I swear, I won't do it again. I'll get help, I'll change. For you."

You looked at him, his eyes filled with a desperate love that made your heart ache. You didn't want to believe he was a monster, but you couldn't ignore what you saw. "It's not that easy," you murmured.

Yunho's eyes searched yours, looking for a way in. "Anything, Y/N. I'll do anything," he repeated, his voice cracking. He dropped to his knees, his grip on your waist now a pleading grasp on your hips.

"Anything?" You whispered, a hint of something mischievous playing on your lips. His eyes widened, hope flickering like a candle in a storm.

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I'll do anything for you."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions in your chest. "Anything?"

Yunho nodded fervently, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you with me," he whispered, his voice thick with desperation.

You had all the power right now. You could feel it. He was desperate, willing to do whatever it took to keep you. And in that moment, a naughty idea sparked in your mind. "Okay," you whisper, a small smirk playing on your lips.

"Okay?" He repeats, his grip tightening slightly. "What do you want?"

You lean down, so your face is mere inches from his, the smirk still playing on your lips. "Prove it," you whisper, your voice a seductive purr.

Yunho's eyes widen in surprise, but the desperation in them quickly morphs into something else entirely. Something darker, something hungrier. "How?" He asks, his voice low and gruff.

"Gotta tell me everything," you start. "But that's for later. Right now," your voice drops, "I want to see if you're really serious."

Yunho's eyes flicker with something close to hope as he nods, eager to do anything you ask. You hook your finger under his chin, tilting it upward. "Good boy," you murmur, watching his expression shift from confusion to something more primal.

"You like that? You like being called a good boy?" You whispered, your eyes locked onto his, watching the way his pupils dilated at the sound of your voice. You felt a strange sense of power, knowing he was desperate to keep you.

Yunho's grip on your hips tightened, his eyes never leaving yours. "I-If it means you'll stay…" He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion.

"Good boy," you whispered again, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "But remember, this is just for now. Once we're done, you leave me alone. I won't speak to you again."

Yunho's eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of hope and desperation. "Okay," he murmured, his voice a mere rumble in his chest.

"Get on the bed." You command, your voice firm and assertive, a stark contrast to the tremble of fear you're desperately trying to keep at bay. Yunho's eyes widen slightly, but he complies without question, his movements submissive as he lays down on his back, his hands flat on either side of him.

You walk over to the bed, standing over him, looking down at the man who once had all the power in this twisted situation. Now, it's you. "Take your clothes off," you say, your voice still a whisper. He nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he starts to undo his buttons, his movements shaky and unsure. You watch him, the smirk on your lips growing, feeling a thrill of control that you never knew existed within you.

Once he's bare, you straddle him, your hands on either side of his face, your fingers digging into the soft skin of his cheeks. "Look at me," you say, your voice low and commanding. "Look at me while you tell me you won't hurt me."

"I won't," he says, his eyes locked on yours, the desperation in them palpable. "I-I'll do anything for you. Anything."

You chuckle softly, undoing the buttons on your jeans, sliding them down your hips with a smoothness that makes your heart race. You're playing a dangerous game, but the thrill of power is too intoxicating to ignore. "Good boy," you murmur again, leaning down to kiss him hard. His hands come up to cup your face, but you pull away before it gets too intense, your eyes never leaving his.

"Now, tell me what you want," you say, your voice a low, seductive whisper. Yunho's eyes flicker with confusion, but he's too lost in your touch to question it. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you," he says, his voice hoarse. "I want you to stay."

You smirk, feeling his need for you like a drug. "Not good enough," you say, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Beg for it."

Yunho's eyes widen, but he doesn't argue. "I need you," he murmurs, his voice shaking. "Please, Y/N. I need you."

You giggle in his ear, grinding your hips down onto his. "Say it," you demand, your voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down his spine.

Yunho's eyes close tightly as he whispers, "Please, Y/N. I'll do anything. Just… please don't leave me."

You didn't answer, only pushing your underwear to the side and sliding onto him, feeling his length fill you up. Yunho's eyes shot open, his breath hitching in his throat as he stared up at you, shock and arousal warring on his face. You leaned down, placing a hand over his mouth, silencing any protest he might have had. "Don't speak," you whispered, your voice a sultry command.

You began to move, your hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had him groaning into your hand. His eyes searched yours, filled with confusion and desperation. You felt a thrill of power, knowing that he was yours to command. "If you want me to stay, you'll do as I say," you murmured against his ear, your breath hot and ragged. "You'll be my good boy, won't you?"

"Y-yes," he managed to say, his voice muffled by your palm. You could feel his body responding to your dominance, his cock twitching inside of you. It was a strange, intoxicating feeling, one that had your own arousal spiking.

You removed your hand from his mouth, letting him gasp for air as you leaned down to kiss him again, your teeth grazing his lower lip. "Tell me you're mine," you whispered, your voice a seductive purr that made his body tense.

"I'm yours," he murmured, his voice thick with desire and something else, something you couldn't quite place.

You smirked, the power of the situation thrumming through your veins like a live wire. "Say it louder," you ordered, increasing the tempo of your hips.

"I'm-" he groans, the words cut off by your hand over his mouth.

"Say it loud enough for me to hear, but not so loud the neighbors do," you whisper, the challenge clear in your eyes. His chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles tensing under your grip as he repeats,

"I'm yours," his voice a mix of desperation and lust.

You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered, "I want to hear it. Say it like you mean it."

Yunho's eyes searched yours, the desperation in them making your heart ache. "Fuck, I-I'm yours," he murmured, his voice barely a breath. You smirked, increasing your pace, watching as his eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

"Such a fucking whore," you murmur into his ear, your voice dripping with false sweetness. His eyes widen, but he doesn't fight, his body responding to your every move. You can feel his desperation, his need for you to stay, to keep playing this twisted game. "Look at you, begging for it."

A moan claws itself out of your throat, the sound a mix of fear and arousal. You can't believe you're here, doing this to him, but the control feels exhilarating. "Oh fuck," you murmur, your hips rolling faster now, riding him like he's a wild beast you've tamed.

It didn't matter that your legs were starting to get tired, or that your heart was racing with fear, the thrill of having him like this was too much to resist. You leaned back, letting your hair cascade down your back as you watched his face, contorted with a mix of pleasure and pain. "You're so pretty when you're desperate," you murmured, your voice a sweet caress that made his eyes flicker with something dark.

You wrapped a hand around his neck, your other on his chest as you adjusted your position, making it much easier to bounce your hips up and down. "You like that?" You whispered, watching his face for any sign of protest. "You like being my little bitch?"

Yunho's eyes widened at your harsh words, but all he could do was nod, a low groan escaping his throat. His hands reached for yours, but you slapped them away, smiling cruelly. "Keep them there," you ordered, your voice like silk. "You're not in charge here."

He whimpered, his hips bucking up to meet yours, desperation etched into every line of his body. "I-I'm your whore," he murmured, his eyes pleading for release. "Your g-good boy, fuckk…"

You smirked, feeling the power surge through you as you squeezed his neck gently, watching the way his pupils dilated with each squeeze. "Good boy," you whispered, your voice a mix of sweetness and venom. "You're doing so well for me."

You whine loudly and lower your head, moving your hips faster, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. Yunho's eyes are locked on yours, a mix of love and desperation swirling in those dark pools. You feel his grip on the bed tighten as his body tenses beneath you, his breaths coming in short pants. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" You ask, your voice a taunt.

"F-Fuck, yes-" his eyes are shut tightly as he grabs your hips, holding you still for a moment before you start to move again, grinding down onto him. His grip tightens, his nails digging into your skin, but you don't care. The pain only adds to the thrill. He lifts his legs and pulls you down, fingers tangled in your hair as he begins thrusting up into you.

"Fuck! Fuck, oh my god," you moan, your voice hoarse with need as Yunho's body moves with yours, his eyes never leaving yours. His grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he fights for control.

"Good boy, baby, fuck-" Your voice is a whirlwind of need and power as you ride him, your thighs quivering with the effort of staying in control. Yunho's eyes are glazed over, his breaths ragged as he watches you, his body responding to your every command. He's yours, fully and completely, and the thought sends a shiver down your spine. "Ohmygodohmygod- I'm coming─d-don't stop!"

Yunho's eyes snap open, his grip on your hips tightening as he tries to match your frantic pace. "Come for me," he murmurs, his voice strained. "Let me make you feel good, please…"

You lean down, your breath hot on his ear as you whisper, "You're such a good boy," the words dripping with sarcasm. His body responds to your mockery, his hips bucking up to meet yours with a fervor that sends you over the edge. You cry out, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, your nails digging into the flesh of his biceps as your body shudders with pleasure.

"Mmph! F-Fuck, yes!" You moan into the pillow as Yunho's mouth works over your sensitive neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends sparks through your body. He's never been so submissive before, so eager to please, and it's a heady feeling. You push back into his touch, feeling his hardness twitch inside of you as he worships you, his tongue tracing patterns over your collarbone that make your toes curl.

"Say it again," you pant, your voice muffled. "Tell me how much you need me."

Yunho's eyes flicker with something unreadable, but he complies, his voice a shaky whisper, "I need you. So much."

"Do you love me?" You whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. Yunho nodded frantically, his eyes never leaving yours. "Say it," you demanded, your voice low and needy.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"Okay," You gulp, sitting up. "If you love me, then you'll do what I say." Yunho nods, his eyes still desperate. "Good boy," You murmur, the power of the situation intoxicating.

"Never speak to me. Again."

[savvymantis]

Rennnn tiktok won’t let me bunny kiss tfa Optimus even though he has the perfect little nose for it. 🥺 Can I request little drabble or headcanons for bunny kisses with tfa Optimus? 👉🏻👈🏻

Like look they say it’s too scandalous…

Bunny Kisses

It’s hard for Optimus to deny you most things. You’re rarely demanding, even when his patrols and missions and reports and everything else keep him from you for longer than either of you would prefer. So when you stand on his desk, tiny hands beckoning him closer, your eyes wide and hopeful, Optimus is practically required by law to lean down so you can be face to little face.

"Hi." He whispers to you, nuzzling into the palms that smooth across his cheeks. You're so warm, soft despite whatever callouses you carry.

"Hi." You whisper back. You lean in, and Optimus shutters his optics, dermas pursing in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, however, your soft lands a little higher up than he was expecting.

Repowering his optics, Optimus finds your on your tiptoes, your nose carefully rubbing to the bridge between his optics. It's intimate and close, the sensation a warm comfort, a small bubbling swell of love that envelopes his spark.

"What was that?" Optimus asks when you lower back down.

"A bunny kiss." You say simply. Optimus recalls bunnies, videos of them he's been shown by you and Sari alike. "Bunnies rub their noses together sometimes. Or something like that. It's just a form of affection, like a kiss."

"Oh." Optimus hums. He studies you, warm smile and sparkling eyes. You don't react when he leans closer to you, pressing his bridge to your nose with military precision. You nuzzle him back, and Optimus finds he enjoys this form of affection, as sweet as a kiss, but almost a little sillier in a way. "I like it, I think."

"I'm glad." Your hands ghost along the curve of his jaw, coaxing him closer for a proper, normal kiss. "Your cute little kitty nose was too hard to resist bunny kissing anyway."

Optimus' smile fades to furrowed brows and a confused pout as his helm tips sideways somewhat. You laugh, peppering his face in more kisses, bunny and otherwise.

Whatever you mean, Optimus can at least enjoy the love that results from it.

[orellazalonia]

Hi! You're writing is great! I keep coming across it in the tags and reading some. What really has caught my eye is “Worth Fighting For”. And you're under no pressure for this, but I am wondering if you plan on making a part 2 for it

Again, no pressure or anything. Its your decision. I don't wanna impose. I'm a writer so I understand shit takes time or having writers block, or simply that it doesn't need anything more. Whatever you decide will be perfect. It is truly a good as a one-shot.

I just really enjoyed it and am wondering

Hello there! I’m glad you’ve been enjoying some of my work, that makes me so happy to hear! Most of the time, I’m usually able to create additional parts to my work but only do so if someone requests it. If not, it’s something I only do if I really loved it or it was too long and I had to break it into smaller parts lol. So, don’t worry! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy. Happy reading!!!

All of the Time

Summary: You start to build a quiet friendship with Steve, finding comfort in someone who understands your struggles, but when you fall and face cruel laughter, your confidence shatters and you pull away. Meanwhile, Bucky’s fierce protectiveness boils over, leading to a vulnerable moment where he promises to stand by you, as someone who loves every part of you. (Possessive!Bucky Barnes x reader)

Word Count: 2.4k+

Main Masterlist | Worth Fighting For (Original Fic)

It started with small things, simple moments that stitched themselves into the quiet rhythm of your days.

Bucky still walked you everywhere. Always showed up early and stayed later than he needed to. But lately, Steve Rogers had started appearing too.

At first, it was by coincidence. A passing nod on the street. A shy smile when you visited the corner store. But Steve was thoughtful in ways that surprised you, gentler than most and always listening. You found yourself drawn to him in a different way than Bucky: calm, understanding, like he recognized something in you without asking questions.

One afternoon, when Bucky got pulled into something across town, Steve offered to walk you home. You were hesitant at first, but he didn’t press, just waited while you adjusted your grip on the crutch and fell into pace beside you.

You both talked about things you usually didn’t discuss with Bucky, like your legs and his lungs. Like the way people looked at you when they thought you weren’t watching, the unsolicited advice, or the way strangers treated you like a sad story instead of a person.

“I get it,” He said, voice low and dry. “They all think I’m fragile, too. Like if I breathe too hard, I’ll fall over.”

You laughed, and he smiled. “They don’t know the half of it.”

It was easy, talking to Steve. And you knew it the second you saw Bucky waiting outside your building, arms crossed and jaw tight, watching the two of you approach like he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or furious.

Steve caught it too. “He’s gonna scowl me to death, isn’t he?”

“Probably,” You muttered, amused. “You’re the one who stole his job.”

“I didn’t know I was being recruited.”

“You weren’t,” Bucky said before either of you could reach the door.

You raised a brow. “Bucky.”

He looked at you, then at Steve. “Appreciate you stepping in,” He said flatly. “Won’t be necessary again.”

Steve just gave you a little shrug, like well, you warned me, and offered a quick goodbye before turning down the street.

You turned back to Bucky. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“He doesn’t know how to pace with you.”

“Neither did you once.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He just held the door open with a tight jaw and followed you up the steps, his hand hovering behind your back like it might catch you if you slipped even though you didn’t.

You thought the tension would fade over time, but it didn’t.

It built slowly, like steam behind a radiator. Bucky brought you more things now: fresh rolls, a knit scarf he swore he didn’t buy but you knew he did, and little things that made you feel warm and heavy with affection.

But something in him had twisted tighter since that day. He stood closer, watched more, and didn’t laugh as easily when you talked about walking alone.

So, one morning, you did.

You hadn’t meant to leave without him. You just needed to prove it to yourself, that you could still do this. That your legs might tremble, but they still moved. That you didn’t need anyone.

The air was brisk as you stepped out, crutch steady under one arm, purse swung across your chest. You took the quieter route, the one that curved behind the main square.

You didn’t even hear them at first, the boys your age loitering by the steps of the butcher’s shop. Laughing and smoking. One of them was the same kid Bucky shoved into a lamppost last month. Of course.

“Hey, it’s the hobble girl!” Someone barked as you passed.

You kept going.

“Where’s your guard dog, sweetheart? Don’t think you’ll make it far without him.”

You didn’t look back. You didn’t give them a reaction, but your foot caught the edge of a broken curb. Just slightly. The crutch hit an uneven crack in the concrete and your knee twisted, causing you to fall.

You didn’t cry out, didn’t scream. But the shock knocked the air out of you and scraped your palms bloody against the sidewalk. You lay there for a breathless moment, too stunned to move.

And then came the sound.

Laughter.

From behind you, from above.

You tried to get up. The brace dug into your shin as you twisted, slipping against your own balance. You were halfway to your knees when someone appeared beside you, not Bucky.

“Easy,” Steve said gently, already crouched. “I got you.”

His hands were steady, warm under your arms, and he didn’t pull you up right away. He just helped you sit, giving you space to let you breathe.

“I’m fine,” You muttered, heart pounding in your ears.

“I know,” He said. “You just don’t have to be alone while you are.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and your eyes burned.

Then–

“WHAT THE HELL IS SO FUNNY?”

The voice tore through the square like a lightning crack.

You whipped around just in time to see Bucky storming across the sidewalk, eyes blazing, and fists already clenched. The group scattered in a heartbeat, but Bucky was faster. He caught the mouthy one by the collar and slammed him against the wall hard enough that a window rattled.

“I told you once,” He growled. “Now I’m telling you twice, if I so much as hear her name in your mouth again, you’ll be drinking through a straw for a month.”

“Buck–“ Steve called out.

“I mean it,” Bucky snarled, shaking the kid like a ragdoll before dropping him onto the concrete.

By the time he turned back, his hands were shaking. But his voice, when he knelt beside you, was quiet.

“Hey,” He said, brushing your hair out of your face. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer.

He touched your scraped palm gently. “You’re bleeding.”

You looked at him finally. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m broken.”

“I don’t,” He stated, voice hoarse. “I look at you like someone I’d kill for. That’s different.”

You blinked, stunned.

Steve stood nearby, silent but present. He didn’t say a word, just nodded once and stepped away, letting you and Bucky have a moment.

Bucky helped you to your feet with slow, careful hands as he tucked your crutch into place like it was something sacred. When you leaned into him subconsciously, his arms went around you in a way that made all the tension in your body fade.

He spoke softly, “You don’t have to be strong all the time, sweetheart. You’re allowed to fall, just let me be the one who helps you up.”

But no matter how sweet words Bucky tried to tell you or how he and Steve both tried to lighten the mood on the way back home, you didn’t sleep that night.

The fall kept looping in your mind over and over. The sound of laughter, the stares, the sting of your knees hitting concrete. You could still feel the scrape on your palms, raw under the bandages. Still feel Steve’s arms helping you sit up, still hear Bucky’s voice when he screamed.

But worse than all of it, worse than the pain or the crowd, was the way they looked at you.

Both of them. Steve, with concern. Bucky, with fury. Both looking at you like you were fragile.

And you hated it.

So, you canceled plans the next morning, told Bucky you weren’t feeling well when he knocked, and left the curtain drawn even when you heard him waiting outside longer than usual.

You knew he meant well, but you couldn’t take the weight in his voice. Couldn’t stand how fast he moved when he thought you needed help. How many people he was willing to fight just because they looked at you wrong.

You didn’t want to be something he protected. You wanted to be something he wanted.

And by the second day, you stopped answering the door entirely.

Across town, Bucky was cracking.

He paced the alley behind the corner bar like a caged dog, jaw clenched, knuckles already bruised from the wall he’d punched earlier.

“You’re gonna get yourself arrested,” Steve muttered from the edge of a crate, arms crossed as he watched Bucky burn through another lap.

“She won’t even look at me, Steve.”

“She’s embarrassed.”

“She shouldn’t be.”

“She’s scared.”

Bucky stopped. “Of me?”

Steve met his eyes. “Of what you’ll do or of how angry you get.”

Bucky’s fists curled. “What am I supposed to do? Let them laugh? Let her think falling makes her less than–”

“No. You’re supposed to show her that she’s still her. Still the same girl you wanted to walk home three weeks ago. Still the one who doesn’t need to be hidden behind your fists.”

Bucky’s voice dropped to a rough whisper. “She thinks she’s a burden.”

“She isn’t.”

“I know that,” Bucky snapped. “But if she won’t let me show her, if she keeps pulling away… I don’t know how to make her believe it.”

Steve stepped forward, quieter now. “Then stop yelling it with your fists, Buck. And start whispering it where it matters.”

That night, you found him sitting on the fire escape outside your bedroom window.

He wasn’t moving. Just leaning back on the cold metal, head tilted toward the sky like it could give him an answer. His hands were scraped, bruised, wrapped in a torn bandage that looked like he’d done it in a rush.

He didn’t look at you right away.

You opened the window quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” He said simply.

You swallowed.

He still didn’t look over. “Steve says I’m doing too much… that I’m pushing you away.”

You sat on the windowsill carefully, still quiet.

He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know how to do this, sweetheart. I see you hurt, and I lose it. I see you scared or embarrassed, and something in me just–snaps. I know it’s too much sometimes. I just…”

He finally turned, eyes tired.

“I don’t want you to ever think I’m here because I feel sorry for you.”

You looked down. “I don’t… think that.”

“I want you to know that when I look at you, I don’t see weakness. I don’t see your crutch. I see you. All of you. And I–” He broke off, jaw tight. “I like you so much it’s ruining me.”

You blinked, chest twisting.

“I don’t care that you fall or that you limp. Or that some days you don’t want to talk. I care that you think those things make you hard to love.”

A silence stretched between you.

Finally, you reached out, gently tracing the fresh bruise on his hand.

“Who was it this time?” You asked.

His smile was small. “Doesn’t matter. He won’t say another word.”

“Bucky–”

He caught your hand in his, kissing your knuckles softly.

“I’m trying,” He whispered. “I’ll stop throwing punches if it helps, but I won’t stop showing up. I won’t stop being yours.”

You pressed your forehead to his, heart thudding.

“I don’t want you to stop showing up,” You said. “I just want to believe that I’m not dragging you down.”

“You’re not dragging me anywhere,” He murmured, brushing your hair back with fingers too gentle for someone who fought like he did. “You’re the only reason I’m still standing some days.”

Then, with a small smile: “Besides, you don’t even weigh enough to drag me down, doll.”

You laughed, and the tension finally broke.

He pulled you into his lap right there on the fire escape, blanket wrapped around both of you, his arms warm and firm around your waist.

And for the first time since the fall, you didn’t feel like a burden. You just felt like his.

You didn’t fall again that week.

Bucky never said it out loud, but you knew he noticed. He started walking half a step ahead of you instead of beside you, close enough to catch you if needed, but far enough to let you breathe.

He didn’t ask if you were alright anymore. He just knew you were. And maybe more importantly, you knew you were too.

One quiet afternoon, he showed up at your door holding something behind his back.

You squinted. “What is it?”

“No peeking.” He grinned, backing up as you stepped out. “I have a surprise.”

“Bucky.”

“Trust me.”

You did. So you let him inside and waited with your back turned, listening to him set up something. When he finally gave the okay, you turned to find the surprise was music.

More specifically, his old record player set up in the tiny living room of your apartment, now spinning. The radio crackled softly as a slow jazz melody filled the air, warm and golden like molasses.

You stared at him, blinking. “Is this a setup?”

He didn’t deny it.

“I thought maybe you’d let me have one dance,” He said, offering his hand, eyes teasing. “I mean, I did get beat up for you. It’s the least you could do.”

You snorted. “You didn’t get beat up. You beat them up.”

“Still counts.”

You glanced down at your brace, hesitant. “I’m not exactly graceful, Bucky.”

His voice lowered. “Doesn’t matter, you’re mine and I’m yours. That’s all I need.”

Your breath caught.

He stepped closer. “Let me show you.”

And he did.

You didn’t dance, not really. It was more like swaying in slow circles, his arms firm around your waist, one hand curled gently around yours. He moved slow and patient, guiding you like he could feel every bit of hesitation in your body and answered each one with a touch, a smile, or a whisper in your ear: “You’re doing perfect, doll.”

You were laughing by the second song. Spinning awkwardly as he dipped you in the most dramatic fashion, nearly knocking over a chair in the process.

“Okay, that one was your fault,” You huffed, holding onto him as you regained your balance.

He didn’t let go. Just leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “I like you like this.”

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

“Laughing, moving, being… you.” He pulled back just enough to look at you. “You never needed to walk perfectly. You just needed someone to see you.”

You leaned into his chest. “You’re really good at that, you know.”

“Good,” He said, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Later into the night when you were wrapped in his arms, half-asleep in the hush of your room, he whispered, “I used to think I needed someone perfect, flashy and put together; but I was wrong.”

You stirred, smiling sleepily. “Oh yeah? What do you need now?”

He kissed the side of your neck and said simply, “You.”

And you knew then, without a single doubt, you had never once been a burden to him.

You’d been the center of his world all along.

[fumiscripts]

✦ GET INK POISONING

✦ one shot ,, michael kaiser x gn!reader

content:: his tattoos looked a little plain. good for you, you had markers on-hand. part two of artist!reader.

crack . 1.1k

additional:: bickering, swearing, romantic undertones, reader has a lowkey crush on him

masterlist.

One thing you like about your muse is his tattoo.

From the blue rose inked on his neck, the thorny vines wrapping down his arm like a sleeve, to the keyhole adorned crown that sat on the back of his left hand. As an artist, you found it quite interesting. Something that held a big significance to someone, clearly. It's beautiful.

At times, you can't help but want to see it up close. Can't help but want to trace along each intricate line. Maybe even doodle a thing or two along his arm, as well.

Yes, you still consider him an op. The thought of throwing stones at him while booing still passes through your mind once in every while every time he does something that mildly ticks you. Though, you could hold more civil conversations without insulting each other at every reply. Hell, you've managed to compliment him a few times— the look of surprise that briefly flashes through his face was amusing. The difference from when you first met is insane.

Right now, you spot Kaiser lounging by the sofa in the buildings, flicking through gameplays of whatever. Because you wanted to grace him with your awesome presence, you sat down beside him, eyes instantly locking onto his tatted arms, placed absently on his lap whilst he decidedly ignored you.

Dang, it was like a free canvas begging for you to draw something on it.

As discreetly as you can— which was fairly noticeable— you reach for his arm, dragging it to your lap instead. Kaiser raised an eyebrow, blue eyes shifting to what you were doing. Along the line of your beefing artist-muse relationship, he had gotten used to you randomly snatching away his hand to draw on. It's a weird thing you do, but he could make fun of you because of it, so he didn't have many complaints.

You started with softly tracing the crown with your fingers, acting all subtle. After a while, you decided to screw being discreet and took a marker out with your other hand, fiddling with the stationary before managing to take the cap off. At this point, Kaiser's attention had left the running television, instead watching you scribble along his arm. His brow raised as you made a doodle. “Is that a pig?”

“What? This is clearly a cat,” you scoff in offense. How dare he call the small kitty you drew near his wrist a pig. “You need better glasses,” you remark, proceeding to make a little stickman climbing up the vine tattoo. Like Jack and the beanstalk. You just drew whatever came to mind, stars, flowers, and a walmart version of the Mona Lisa.

Kaiser stared at you as you made more doodles along his arm. Blue eyes watched your expert fingers make cute little linearts on his skin— which he'd die out of embarrassment from if anyone ever saw it. Speaking of dying, he voiced out a concern that popped up in his mind. “Ever thought this might give me ink poisoning?”

You smiled, filling in the black stripes of a mini zebra you etched. “That'd be amazing. Can't wait to see you confined in a hospital,” you jested, making him roll his eyes at your tomfoolery.

“Aha, you'd be missing your muse day and night if you committed to that,” he scoffed, leaning over to a more comfortable position. “Don't you wanna sketch me all the time like it's your full-time job?” Kaiser teased, and you used that opportunity to start a little back and forth.

“I'm drawing you ‘cause nobody else would be interested enough to. Basically charity work, you easy-to-draw failed hairstyle experiment.”

“Please, sounds to me like you just wanna hoard the ‘that one Kaiser artist’ title,” he then tilted his head at your latter statement, a bit offended. “...failed hairstyle experiment– Hey, my hair isn't that bad. You're being overdramatic.”

You shrugged. “It's a disaster to draw. So it is bad,” you retort. “Sometimes, I would even prefer to have you bald just to avoid sketching your hair.”

He gaped— giving way too much theatric flair in acting offended— before snapping back into his usual asshole demeanor. “Sure. Like you wouldn't miss it,” he bit back, a strained smirk crossing his face. “You always draw it extra fluffy. Seems to me that you want to run your hands all over my hair really bad.”

“Yeah. So I can pull on your rat tails,” you huff, doodling a little bow on his wrist. “And then yank them so hard they detach from your scalp.”

“You are not doing that.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh uh," he huffs. He gives you a look when you pinch his arm. “Brat. I let you draw on my arm and this is how you treat me?” he scoffed, acting like he was personally insulted— which he was, but still— and yanked his hand away from you, pushing your face away like it just offended his eyes. You frown at having your canvas taken away from you.

You cross your arms, huffing under your breath. “You’re no fun," you were pouting. Pouting. He felt his eye twitch.

“For not letting you pull on my hair...?”

“And for taking my canvas away.”

Kaiser sighed. Loudly. So you could hear his exasperation. “Oh my god, you're so infuriating. Do you want me that bad?” self-centered prick. Of course he won't let you be victorious in this out-annoying each other.

“Ew,” you make a show to physically cringe and gag, taking your point across. “I’d rather shit on my hands and clap,” you retort, willing yourself not to get startled when he draws closer, to the point he was slightly leaning over you, using that damn height to his advantage.

He looks at you for a few seconds, watching. Half-judgemental, half starting a staring contest. You think you should focus on the contact being awkward— but did his eyes look this pretty up close? He stayed silent after your words for a couple of moments, before snickering. Kaiser brushed his hair back, pulling away, putting his hand on your lap, arm on full display to doodle on at your heart's complaint. “Yeah, right,” he exhales longly, acting like he was doing you a favor.

You blink, wondering why the hell your heart went slightly faster at him staring at you like a cat. Ugh, fuck. You really hate this guy. Him and his stupid blue eyes. Mentally slapping yourself, you go back to drawing on his arm. A smiley face, a cloud, that one ’s' and...

Your signature. On Kaiser's skin.

 You smirk, feeling like this could be the perfect thing to tease him with next. Except, you kinda felt giddy about having a little something of you on him.

...

What the fuck.

i saw this halfway done in my drafts and decided to finally finish it

© fumiscripts ✦

[scorpioriesling]

hear me out: an angsty part 2 to all the wrong/right places where ridoc finds out about Y/N and Brennan. omg the dramaaa

I Love(d) You, It's Ruining My Life

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Brennan x reader

Warning(s): roughly making out, swearing

Summary: You didn't realize just how protective your boyfriend could be over you -- that is, until he feels threatened.

SR’s Note: Plot twist... you thought Ridoc would be the jealous one, didn't you? (;

Tags: @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @whyucloudingmymind @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @woollybread786 @invisiblepixies @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @luvly-writer @fiahtheteaaddict @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans @tincanhat @notnowkittenwhisker (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

All The Wrong Right Places

It'd been four months since you came to your senses. Four months since you swore off your ex for good, finding true happiness in someone you'd never expected; your best friend.

Brennan had swept you off your feet from the moment you allowed him to; he'd wined, dined, and fucked you to no end. You would admit, you felt nothing less than comfortable with him, knowing he'd be there for you no matter what.

The early June summer sun had now faded, replaced by the rain and fog of October. You'd found yourself out that evening, joining a few friends from the college for yet another party.

And though Violet swore Ridoc wouldn't show... you spotted him the moment he arrived.

The room lit up as he walked in, all of his friends swarming him just to get a word in. You were left scowling over the rim of your red solo cup, watching nearly everyone there flocking toward the sun-kissed boy.

Most of the night had gone on that way; everyone milling about, seeming to gravitate toward the brunette. You'd done your absolute best to stay out of his way, but just before you were about to leave...

"Y/N! Hey," he chuckled, his words only loosely running together. You took a deep breath, halting from shoving your other arm into your jacket. Turning, your eyes meet his.

You couldn't deny the small tremor that ran through you.

It'd been months. Months. You were now happier than you'd ever been, you felt so free, so safe...

"Hey. Ridoc." You responded, tone clipped. He held his arms wide, grinning wildly.

"Haven't seen you all night!" He said loudly. You winced, glancing side to side as he continued on. "In fact... I haven't seen you in.. months."

His head tilted to the side in thought, and you sighed as you sheathed your bare arm within the thin cotton jacket.

"Yeah, well... I haven't been around." You said in an implicating way. His brow raised, and he barked a sharp laugh.

"Wait wait wait -- you been seein' someone?"

Your cheeks warmed, and you settled your hands on your hips.

"As a matter of fact, yes, Ridoc. I have been."

He rears back as though you'd struck him, a surprised chuckle wheezing out of him.

"No shit! Wow... I mean... holy shit-"

"What?" You snapped, confident in the anger rising within you. "Is that so hard to believe?"

He shook his head, flattening his lips into a line. "Nah, nah... I mean, what we had goin' was good though, you know."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Ridoc, whatever we had was not healthy." Bile churned in your stomach at the reminder, recalling every time you reluctantly crawled right back to him. "It wasn't... anything. Anything at all."

He sighed, scratching his head. "Didn't seem like nothing. You kept comin' back."

Your brows narrowed. "Ridoc, you're so shallow! We dated for... Gods know how long. I kept coming back because I loved you... and it ruined my life. But now, I have-"

"Y/N?"

You hadn't realized how loud you'd gotten. How close you'd stepped toward Ridoc, an accusatory finger jabbing at his chest. You hadn't ehard the front door swing open, or the familiar jangle of Brennan's car keys as he spun them around his finger.

You hadn't realized your boyfriend had arrived, as you'd arranged... to pick you up.

You turned slowly, the look of horror surely plastered on your face. Brennan saddled you with a blank look, clearly catching the tail end of the argument and finding himself unsure of what to make of it. Ridoc chuckled, his chest rumlbling beneath your fingertip.

"Uh oh... looks like your new boyfriend's here," he slurred, stating the obvious. He leaned in, speaking softly so only you could hear.

"Try not to let this one 'ruin your life'."

You glared, splaying a flat hand on your ex's chest and shoving. Hard.

"You're insufferable."

It was the last words said before you rushed out of the house, gunning right for Brennan. A mere minute after the door slammed shut, an explaination was at the ready.

"Brennan, please let me explain-"

"Get in the car." He said, his voice low as rain pelted from above. You paused, stopping on the sidewalk as he kept toward the car. He reached forward, gripping the passenger doorhandle and swinging the door open.

"Did you not hear me?"

You huffed, stalking closer. Before entering the vehicle, you tried again.

"Brennan-"

"In." He said, his stare hard. "Now."

✧･ﾟ: *

The drive was silent, save for the rain splattering against the windows and the sweep of the windshield wipers batting it away. Night had fallen, making the road harder and harder to see. Brennan drove on, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

You hadn't spoken another word, hadn't dared to since closing the passenger side door. You'd never seen Brennan so upset, so perturbed by something he simply just didn't understand.

Debating opening your mouth in defense once more, you halted. Brennan hung a right, pulling into a vacant parking lot and parking nearly midway between two streetlamps. He stared ahead for a moment, then twisted the key and shut the car off.

"Brennan..."

"Let's talk about this in the back."

You sighed, not thrilled to get out once more in the downpour. Shielding your hair with the hood of your jacket, you quickly got out of the car -- only to get right back in. Brennan joined you in the backseat, his eyes vacant as he slid in atop the leather seats.

The two of you shared the silence once more, and you found yourself unsure where to look. You occupied your time by stripping yourself of your jacket, finding the car already growing warmer. When you did finally glance over at Brennan, you found him watching you, studying you with that feral hunger he only ever unleashed in the bedroom.

Your lips parted, but you didn't speak. Your boyfriend's hand snaked around your neck, quickly bringing your lips to his. He worked his mouth against yours deliciously, not being so kind or considerate about the way he was practically devouring you. You squeaked in surprise, but took the hint rather quickly when he tugged your hips atop his lap.

He broke the kiss at once, his fingers curling beneath your top and roughly yanking it over your head. His mouth was on your breast at once, his teeth raking over the tops of your mounds.

You sucked in a sharp breath, fisting his red-brown curls in both hands. Absentmindedly, you had begun to grind your hips on his lap; the tension growing between the two of you nearing white-hot.

"Brennan," you sighed, and he pulled back from your skin.

"Say you don't love him anymore," he demanded, his eyes staring up at you. "Y/N, I need to know-"

"I don't," you said, not hesitating in the slightest. "Brennan, I've told you a million times I'm over Ridoc-"

He growled, his large hands squeezing your ass through your jeans. You gasped, tugging his face close to yours again.

"That's not what it sounded like," he ground out, opting to take your bottom lip between his teeth instead of kissing you. Your eyes widened, and when he let go, you explained.

"You came in on the tail end of that -- Brennan, I was attempting to put that asshole in his place."

Brennan's eyes softened ever so slightly, though his erection did the opposite. You swallowed, not imagining this the time or place you'd admit something like this -- but the unsaid words hung in the air like cigarette smoke.

"I thought I was in love when I was with Ridoc," you explained, lightly scratching your nails against Brennan's head. He leaned back, enjoying the light massage as you spoke. "I realize now that... he was a huge waste of time. I was so blind to what I've always had, right here in front of me."

A small smile pulled at his lips at that.

"Damn right."

You rolled your eyes. "And," you continued, lightly tugging on his curls. "I realize now that it wasn't love. It couldn't have been. Because nothing I felt for Ridoc feels even remotely close to the way I feel about you."

His eyes softened, taking in the admission. He leaned forward, his lips connecting with yours. He was much gentler, kissing you with a sweet sort of intimacy that sent your heart fluttering.

"I love you too." He admitted, only pulling back an inch. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. And there's no way in Hell I'd let that damned fool take you away from me ever again."

✧･ﾟ: *

[shiptillyoudie]

Danny reflexively went invisible and intangible whenever he got startled, and so on the rare nights that the black-haired guy actually showed up, he never really saw him. The guy seemed so out of it Danny wasn't sure he'd see him even if he wasn't invisible.

So...now that he knew someone did sleep here, at least occasionally, why did he keep coming back?

Maybe it was just habit at this point. Maybe it because the bed was that comfortable and he knew it was safe. Maybe it was because the guy who occasionally slept in it was cute.

Maybe he really wasn't thinking clearly, and that's why he didn't notice the cameras that were now set up around the room.

But he did notice the note that sat folded on the pillow when he came in one night, folded exactly in half, with the words "Ghost Boy" written on it.

He swallowed thickly. Okay that wasn't good. He should leave, right now. Yeet himself right through the ceiling and never come back. There were millions of beds in Gotham he could sleep in. It didn't have to be this one.

Instead he opened the note.

"Caught you on camera. Black hair, blue eyes, white t-shirt and jeans. Or sometimes white hair, green eyes, black jumpsuit. I know they're both you; facial recognition pings you as a perfect match. Not sure if you're actually a ghost or just some sort of meta, but you're welcome to have any bed in the manor.

Including this one.

Think about introducing yourself though. Maybe I can help with whatever it is.

~ Tim "

Summary: Tim never goes to sleep. This leaves his bed unoccupied most of the time. To the point that a very tired ghost looking for somewhere to sleep decides if Tim's not going to use it, he might as well.

-----------------------------

Danny was exhausted and he needed to sleep. Days of ghost hunting had him beyond tired and admittedly, a little lost.

He looked below him as he flew and saw the biggest, fanciest mansion he'd ever seen, even worse than Vlad's. Welp, he wouldn't be stopping there; if there was anything he hated more than rich people, he'd yet to find it.

Except. He was so. Tired. And rich people had soooo many extra beds. So many beds they were not using and would never even look at. Easy to haunt.

He decided screw it, a fancy luxury bed wasn't going to kill him. He went invisible and flew in through the ceiling, flying slowly through all the rooms. There was a surprising number of people sleeping here, all obviously related because they all looked practically the same.

But one of the beds was empty, and he was too tired to look further, so he crashed into it and started to snore immediately.

The next day he flew out early to get back to work. This ghost he was hunting was annoyingly elusive. He knew it was somewhere in Gotham, but due to how stupidly haunted this city was, it was proving a lot harder to catch.

Another fruitless day later, and he was exhausted again. And knew where there was a very comfy, very unoccupied bed.

By the third night, he started thinking of it as his bed. He was the only person using it, after all.

[hypostatic-oath]

The Gods' Limits

Posting this one as an unfinished snippet to get myself motivated and back into writing for this fandom (and writing at all) - because that teaser SURE WAS SOMETHING HUH

________________

"All we can do is extend the invitation." Istaroth's voice echoed, soft and familiar. You have the distinct feeling you've heard it before. It sounds almost like Venti - which, given everything suspicious that bard is up to, sounds about right. "It is up to 'them' whether or not to accept it. 'They' need to reach out of their own volition."

Perhaps it is only the enjoyment of immersion that leads you to reach your hand towards the screen. Nothing could come of it, obviously, but the Shades' hands outstretched make you feel like perhaps something should take them. The trailer has reached its end - this appears to be a strange post-credits scene, the video's little bar is not even progressing anymore - and it's clear that whoever 'they' are, Hoyo doesn't plan on revealing 'them' any time soon. An amused smile flickers on your lips, and your fingertip brushes over the Shade of Time's outstretched hand.

That smile is gone as quickly as it came the moment you see the Shades' eyes move.

They lock on you faster than a predator onto prey, and the shock is so great you do not even realise you've spoken aloud.

"The fuck?"

Your voice sounds distorted. The Shades themselves look, at least, as freaked out as you are - and the most damning evidence that something is afoot is the fact that you see your own 'The fuck?' subtitled on the youtube video. It's censored, of course. More like a 'The □□□□?', really.

"Holy shit." You whisper. It's the player. 'Them' is the player.

"□□□□□□□□?" Istaroth calls out. She's composed herself, and so have the others, it seems, which is more than you can say for yourself, a shiver running down your spine at being addressed directly. Her voice is distorted - something blocked what she said, a heavy static you're accustomed to hearing whenever a quest in-game needs to censor dialogue - but you know, you can tell. Whatever that block of text means, is referring to you.

"You are not talking to me." You state. According to all rules of folklore, if you saw something, no you didn't. This is how people die in horror movies, and you sure as hell don't like how Ronova is staring you down, with those countless, biblically-accurate-angel-worthy eyes. Talk about unsettling. Actually, scratch that. It's downright creepy. "You are not. And I am not talking to you, either."

"Then who are we each talking to?" Naberius - no, this is Rhinedottir, and the golden halo behind her (their?) head is enough to prove it - asks, with a lilt that sounds far too entertained for your comfort. Of course she of all people would find this situation funny. A disregard for the imposed limits of the world has always been her thing.

"I am speaking to myself." You respond, taking a deep breath. Your eyes glance towards the exit button on the screen. Enough man-made horrors beyond your comprehension for today. There is no way this is a feature, otherwise you'd have seen lore streamers going insane over it. You'll close the tab, reboot your computer, and then take a deep breath and file it all as Hoyoverse testing the fanbase's reception to AI, or some grand shift to VR. Yes, that must be it. Obviously, nothing wrong is going on here... but you'll wait for a streamer to react to it, just to err on the side of caution. At least they'd get content out of it.

"Wait!" Istaroth's calm whispers switch to something sharper, filled with urgency. She can feel your presence fading - and though the other two might not be bothered, the Shade of Time knows how crucial you are. How interlinked she is with you, how much of her power is yours and vice-versa, ever since you'd logged in to the world for the first time. Time in Teyvat might be her weaving, but it moves at your pace. If you leave... "Wait, wait, wait. We won't address you directly anymore. We've overstepped. Let us forget this incident and-"

"Speak for yourself." Rhinedottir's mutter could not go unnoticed, not with the subtitles on screen serving as a glaring indication she'd spoken. It earns her a stern clearing of the throat from Naberius's spirit within, that the Khaenri'ahn promptly chooses to ignore. "Come on." She almost seems to be taunting you. Scratch that, you don't even need to look at her smug expression to know she is taunting you. "You're at least a little curious."

Before you can respond - not that you would, because who in their right mind would talk to characters on a screen, on one hand because they're not real, on the other because on the off-chance that they are real you do not want to invite whatever that is into your life - Ronova moves to stand in between you and Rhinedottir, wings stretched out to effectively block the two of you from one another's eyesight. Somehow, the thousands of glowing red eyes scattered like stars across the darkness of Death's wings feel less piercing than Life's dual-colored gaze.

"Istaroth is right. Addressing 'them' is forbidden." She does not speak to you, but the fact that now you know they are aware of you is just as unsettling. "Enough rules have been broken today, and this will not bring us any closer to finding her."

The screen goes still - and the sight of that little replay icon across the frozen frame makes your racing heartbeat slow just a little, a breath of relief leaving your lips. Okay. Just a trailer. Just a weird trailer. Maybe this was one of those times where you just happened to say thw right thing at the exact right time. It wouldn't be a first. Freaky, but nothing more than harmless fun. Yes. You'll check the comments for other like-minded souls who also got the daylights scared out of them by that section, laugh about how life-like the Shades seemed, and then come across those bass-boosted edits meant to show just how intimidating the new characters are.

Perhaps that was just it - the fourth-wall breaking was meant only to showcase the level of power going on with these three (four? five, if one were to count both the missing Asmoday and Naberius as their own person?), the trailer deliberately scripted to spook a few more gullible players.

The fact that people were in fact mentioning it in the comments put you significantly more at ease. Ah, lore. To think there was once a time where Genshin was just a game about a lost space twin helping a silly little bard reunite with his dragon friend while looking for their own lost sibling. And then you were promptly thrust into eldritch horror territory with perhaps the cutest graphics ever. Terrifying, ten out of ten.

Even after seeing that other players had experienced more or less the same - perhaps it varied according to the language they'd watched the teaser in? - it was too much. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give the game some time, so your head could stop reeling from the experience before being plunged back into Teyvat. It would be a while before you could go back to mindlessly bullying weekly bosses without a care in the world, feeling like those things were watching your poor Traveler.

[riitales]

Breakups Hurt | Choi Su-bong

Ch 4: i'm still in love, for what it's worth

You shouldn't cry! You had seen it coming. He was giving you same answers since months. So why?

Pairing: Choi Su-bong x female!reader

Genre: squid game au! exes to lovers!

warnings: miscommunication, hurt/no-comfort, crying! | su-bong doesn't have his drug locket. no use of y/n. there's mostly thanos's real name is used.

Note: no one can predict when I'll disappear, not even me!

Play: hate you by Jungkook

Finding one bed in the far corner, that maybe was some player's who's probably dead, you pull your knees closer to yourself.

Your eyes stayed on the place next to your feet. This was really the end of you and su-bong. You sighed deeply and dragged your hands to your face.

"i moved on. You should too."

You shook your head as if to block out his voice from your head. You breathe in and out. You focused on your nails, you don't remember the last time you went to the nail salon. Your friend from work asked you too many if you'd wanna go with her as the girls day but you had declined too many times! Because all you do is look for well paid part time jobs.

He was right you were earning just fine with your 9-5 job. But that wasn't enough for you both.

As su-bong was in so much debt, you wanted to help him out. That's what good girlfriends do right? Help their boyfriends in hard time? That's what you had been hoping to do. He was in need of money so you start looking for jobs. Not for him to work but for you. You could earn for him. You don't mind. His career was failing, he needed time. He was going through so much. You could atleast earn for him.

You wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. The man in suit gives you a offer to earn money. You couldn't resist. You needed money, for both of you. Even though you both had broke up before that.

You thought maybe once you really managed to get him to talk and open up, you both could work it out. You both would be in a relationship by then. You would have money. You would Live happily.

"Stop caring about me. I don't care about you"

But obviously you had been so naive to think like that.

"Beside, i actually come here so i could take a break from you— but- of course—"

You tried to gulp down your emotions. This isn't fucking place to get all emotional in. The lump in your throat made you slightly choke. The burn from the tears made you aware of their existence just now. You wipe the tears off your cheeks.

"We're better off without each other anyways."

You give up on wiping the tears and went back to pick on your nails. You shouldn't cry! You had seen it coming. He was giving you same answers since months. So why?!

"i moved on. You should too."

"Fuck!" You curse quietly and dropped your head down in your arms, resting on your knees. I hate him. I hate him so much! The voice in your head that's angry at him chant.

You wanna talk about it with someone. Wanna rant about it. Tell someone whatever you're feeling. even if it's longing and anger for him, even if it's how lost you're feeling, anything!

You wanna talk to your friend. She would understand. But she's outside of course. You have to get out of here in order to meet her.

You know She would surely scold you if she ever seen you ever cry over a man.

More than anything, you don't wanna be here! what's the point of staying here when the only person you came here for has just basically told you to stay away from him and mind your own business?

After sitting in the same position for God knows how long, your mind and body exhausted, you came to the conclusion for yourself, for what you want and what would be so much better for you—

I wanna go Home!

Su-bong dropped his head in his hands.

He feel so angry. Angry at himself. Angry at the asshole who's at the fault for his current situation. MG coin! Even beating him wasn't enough. He almost wanna kill that loser.

You're at fault too! His conscience says in the back of his head. Yeah! If only he could have been a little less greedy, if only he hadn't invest all of money— just because youtuber MG coin suggested it— his downfall wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't be here. He would be outside of this game- living his best life— with you by his side.

Su-bong swear he was losing his mind. And that asshole was eating after practically fucking up his life. He lash out his frustration at him— with nam-gyu by his side.

If that old man hadn't interrupted. Su-bong think he might have killed him.

Sitting by his feets, nam-gyu murmured strings of curses.

Su-bong feels many things at once— anger, frustration, irritation, restless. He feels like he was losing his damn mind. He sigh in tiredness.

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© riitales, 2025, Do not repost or copy in any way.

NOTES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

[kenzdolls]

RAGATHA RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS .

⌗ pairing: (TADC) ragatha x gn! reader

⌗ warnings: spoilers from episode 5, lowercase intended.

⌗ a/n: sry for being kinda late in posting.

FIRST TIME MEETING:

▹ ragatha literally trips over her own feet when she first sees you appear in the digital circus because wow okay new person alert and her brain just??? stops working for a hot second (´∀｀)♡

▹ she's immediately in "welcome committee" mode, practically bouncing over to introduce herself while internally screaming because great job ragatha very smooth very normal definitely not obvious that you think they're cute

▹ definitely doesn't spend the first week unconsciously gravitating toward wherever you are during adventures she's just being helpful!! making sure you're settling in okay!! (it's totally not because she finds your presence comforting or anything)

▹ the way she gets extra flustered when you actually listen to her rambling about circus rules and survival tips, nodding along like what she's saying actually matters (because to you, it does, and that makes her heart do weird flippy things)

▹ she starts unconsciously using her "customer service voice" from her real estate days when talking to you at first - all professional and peppy - until she realizes you're not a client trying to buy a house and she can just... be herself??? wild concept (・∀・)

▹ absolutely does NOT lie awake thinking about how you said "thank you" after she helped you dodge one of jax’s pranks (she totally does and she's mortified about it)

▹ the first time you compliment her stitching work when she's fixing herself up after an adventure, she literally freezes mid-stitch because??? someone noticed??? someone cares??? (´；ω；｀)

▹ she catches herself being extra gentle with you during chaotic moments, like instinctively putting herself between you and whatever fresh hell caine has cooked up this time (definitely not because she's already getting protective nope not at all)

▹ when you mention missing something from the outside world, she gets this distant look because same but also starts telling you about her family's farm to distract you both - about the horses and chickens and how peaceful it was when her mother wasn't being... well, her mother (◕‿◕)

▹ the way she immediately backtracks when she accidentally mentions her mom being "difficult" because she doesn't want to trauma dump on the new person even though talking to you feels safer than it should

FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU:

▹ ragatha becomes the QUEEN of internal panic because she's catching feelings and that's??? not in the survival guide??? what does she DO with this information??? (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

▹ she starts doing that thing where she fixes her hair whenever you're around, even though it's literally just yarn and doesn't need fixing but what if it looks messy what if you notice what if-

▹ definitely doesn't practice conversations with you in her room using a pillow as a stand-in (she absolutely does and pomni walked in on her once and they both agreed to never speak of it)

▹ the way she gets SO excited when you seek her out specifically - like you could ask anyone for help but you asked herand suddenly she's walking on air for the rest of the day ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

▹ she starts noticing EVERYTHING about you - how you laugh (music to her ears), how you scrunch your nose when thinking (adorable), how you try to comfort others during rough adventures (and her heart just melts because you're genuinely good)

▹ absolutely does not keep a mental list of all your favorite things just in case (favorite colors, how you like your digital food, what makes you smile, etc. etc. she's got it ALL memorized)

▹ the way she gets tongue-tied when you compliment her, going from eloquent rambling to "i- you- that's- thank you???" because wow you think she's NICE and her brain just short-circuits (´∀｀)

▹ she starts being extra careful during adventures, not just for everyone's safety but specifically because she doesn't want you to see her fall apart literally or figuratively when things get too intense

▹ when you mention her real estate background with genuine interest instead of judgment, she almost cries because she's so used to being ashamed of her past especially the whole "desperate to escape" part (｡♡‿♡｡)

▹ the way she catches herself staring at you during caine's explanations and has to physically shake her head to focus which just makes her even more obvious but whatever

▹ she starts overthinking EVERYTHING - "was that joke too much?" "did i sound annoying?" "do they think i'm clingy?" (spoiler alert: you don't, you think she's wonderful)

▹ definitely doesn't imagine what it would be like to hold your hand (okay she totally does and she gets so flustered about it that she trips over nothing)

▹ the way she volunteers for the dangerous parts of adventures before you can, because the thought of you getting hurt makes her chest feel all tight and panicky

HER AS A S/O:

▹ when you two finally get together, ragatha is like "wait this is real??? this is actually happening???" because she's so used to good things being temporary thanks for the trust issues, mom 

▹ she's the most attentive girlfriend ever - remembering every little thing you mention, always checking if you're okay, making sure you're comfortable during adventures (sometimes to the point where you have to remind her to take care of herself too)

▹ the way she gets all soft and giggly when you play with her yarn hair, like she turns into complete mush because it's such a simple intimate gesture and she's not used to gentle touches

▹ absolutely melts when you kiss her cheek��and she gets all red and stammery because pda still makes her flustered even though you're literally dating now

▹ she starts sharing more about her past - the farm, her family's wealth, how suffocating it all was - because she trusts you enough to see the parts of her that aren't all sunshine and optimism

▹ the way she gets protective but tries to hide it, like casually stepping in front of you when jax is being particularly chaotic or making sure you're paired with her for adventures (not that she doesn't trust the others but also she doesn't trust the others)

▹ when you comfort her after particularly bad days (because even eternal optimists have breaking points), she's so grateful she could cry because someone actually SEES her struggles (´；ω；｀)

▹ she starts doing little domestic things without thinking - straightening your clothes, making sure you've eaten, tucking you in if you fall asleep somewhere weird (those real estate client management skills translate surprisingly well to girlfriend duties)

▹ the way she lights up when you compliment her problem-solving skills or how she handles crisis situations, because she's spent so long being the "responsible one" that having it acknowledged feels incredible

▹ definitely doesn't have a minor panic attack the first time you say "i love you" (she totally does but in a good way because holy shit someone loves HER)

▹ she starts letting herself be vulnerable around you - admitting when she's scared, letting you see her cry, asking for help instead of always being the helper

▹ the way she gets SO excited about planning little dates within the circus constraints - like finding the coziest corner for stargazing or making up games just for you two because she wants to make this place feel less like a prison and more like... well, home

▹ when you tell her you're proud of her for standing up to her past (even if it's just in conversation), she gets all teary because she's never had someone be proud of her for being herself rather than what she could provide (´ω｀♡)

▹ absolutely has considered what it would be like if you two could escape together but then realizes that maybe, with you here, the circus doesn't feel quite so much like a trap after all ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

⌗ taglist: @idexmids @siriuslyginnychase @eleteo125 @st4r-dustx @corpsebridenightamare @boreaswrites [OPEN]

✦ REQUESTS ARE OPEN! ✦

© KENZDOLLS 2025 . do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work in anyway including the use of ai onto any other social media platforms or it will permit an instant block on all platforms.