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distuff · 2 days ago

Note

ahhhh thank you for writing such beautiful work...

baby when the reader gets pissed at him for saying something mean during a fight, so she ignores him? AND not only ignores him but chooses to spend an abnormal amount of time with Jinu/any other (Jinu cause the tiger and the bird) saja boy to rant about how obnoxious baby is and stubbornly refuses to interact with baby? and baby just going nuts because what do you mean he's getting ignored? (and maybe abby and romance trying to help him figure out why reader is pissed and get him to swallow his pride and apolgize?)

Answer: Oh my- I actually had fun exploring this dynamic ngl khahaha! You my dear readershi are also gettin' a renewed author (la mOi, obviously) who is more confident in my vers of the boyz. Gotta thank all the support (my beloved anons/ askers, taggers ( I see you @sleepylion ! ), commenters and even those who are silent enjoyers ) who showed support on stories I was unsure of. sO ! Pls, enjoy~ ( = ⩊ = )

Note. Please ! Do not take anything here seriously. These are my versions of the boyz where I'm tryin' to figure out their character through these prompts and make em react as canon as possible. Nothing in here is aimed at anyone just a faceless MC whose traits are created around the prompt. Arigatou ( _ _)人

📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Baby SAJA: Apology?

Featuring: Baby Saja Reader: female

It was a rainy night. The rain tapped gently against the windows, and dark clouds covered what few stars were ever visible—even on clear nights.

Their studio sat on the highest floor, close to the heavens, yet Jinu could rarely see more than two faint stars, even on a good day.

The only “stars” around were the distant lights from neighbouring buildings, all of them standing a few floors lower than the building their company had chosen for them.

It always reminded Jinu of a story Mystery had once told him—something about humans trying to build a spiralling tower to reach the heavens, only to be cursed by the very god they were climbing toward to.

Babilion? Bubilion? Tower of Bebil? He couldn’t remember the name. Never cared to. It was the idea that stuck with him.

Seems like that desire never left them, he always thought. Whether humans realised it or not, they always craved more.

Speaking of humans and their insatiable wants—

"Can you believe that smug—ugh!"

Jinu turned slowly from his desk to face you. You were pacing his room, eyebrows furrowed, hands flailing like you were about to strangle someone.

He let out a soft sigh and dropped the pen in his hand, casually covering the card he’d been working on. A loud, pink bird with spindly legs danced beneath the text Let’s Get Flocked Up!!—whatever that meant. It looked like a poorly drawn phoenix in his opinion.

He’d ask the phone to identify the bird, but for some reason you decided he was good for whatever conversation you were trying to have with him.

Jinu would shrug your words off and let you talk to yourself in hopes of you having some devine realisation, but he couldn’t risk drawing your attention to what he was writing. That would lead to questions. And Jinu was terrible at dodging questions. Which would only made him more suspicious.

Just thinking about Mystery giving him signs he was beginning to suspect Jinu of something made him wince.

So instead of kicking you out—which would only make things worse—jumping out the window, which wouldn’t solve anything—or trying to change the subject, which your expression made clear you weren’t going to let happen, Jinu gave in.

He dropped his arm over the card and leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking over to you with resigned sigh.

"Alright, I bite. What did you do?" he asked flatly. He didn’t even bother pretending to care.

Where were Romance or Abby when he needed them? What possessed you to bring this kind of thing to him? Not questions he voiced, of course. The carpet was white, and he had no intention of getting blood on it. No, thank you.

That, he quickly realised, was also the wrong question to ask.

You stopped pacing and turned to him slowly, glare sharp enough to make him consider jumping out of the window did actually sounded quiet helpful for this situation.

If human looks could kill demons, Jinu was pretty sure he’d be dead already. Moments like these reminded him why he appreciated your honmoon wave being bright crimson for more than easy snack. At least it didn't tried burning him while you were clearly distress.

And under all that curled one single feeling that most demon's would salivate at.

Hurt.

Funny, he thought dryly, how wrath is just crushed expectation throwing a tantrum.

You pointed at yourself, incredulous. “Me?” you repeated. “Me?! What I did—? I didn’t do anything!” you shouted, and Jinu winced, pressing his hand to his left ear.

You were off again, pacing as your frustration and sadness poured out.

“It’s him who can’t see past himself! He can’t shut up long enough to listen or—or understand that what he says hurts!”

Your voice cracked as your frustration pushed through. “It’s like I don’t even exist to him. Like I’m just… here. I expect something. Anything to show I’m not the only one who cares in this relationship!”

Your eyes were starting to glaze over. The shine of unshed tears formed as your honmoon line pulsed with that bitter sadness Jinu hated to taste but his body craved anyway.

Too bad he already ate tonight. No excuse to feed off you now.

Which meant, unfortunately, he had to listen.

He sighed again, bracing himself, and opened his mouth—fully prepared to be the voice of reason you’d ignore anyway, in the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d use your last brain cell to hear what he had to say.

"Alright," he said calmly, his voice instantly drawing your attention. You stopped pacing, staring at him with that same look—expecting something. Jinu had to stop himself from shaking his head.

Expectations, were formed around the false believes one had about themself, fueled by the fear of unknown, they only built blueprints for reactions, and always ended in disappointment. Humans never learn, he thought with a quiet sigh. Funny how becoming a demon gave him the clarity to spot flaws he never noticed as a human—flaws now repeating in front of him like clockwork.

It was as if the behaviour had been coded into the human DNA.

No matter. Lifting his head—which he hadn’t realised had dipped—Jinu met your eyes. You’d calmed enough to sit on the edge of his bed, your attention fixed solely on him.

"I mean, this might sound crazy," Jinu began, his tone light as he straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "But did you consider—just maybe—that Baby is a demon?" His hands gestured to you like he was making a groundbreaking point, his face marked by exaggerated innocence.

The sound of Tiger rising from where he’d been lying beside the bed draw both yours and his attention to the spirit—giving you a pause from the conversation as the two of you watched it quietly prowling over to you with steady steps.

Its amber eyes didn’t blink as he stared at you—curious, and clearly reading the cocktail of emotion your body radiated. That, and shielding Jinu from your honmoon wave to give him a moment to breathe.

Magpie, on the other hand, looked wholly unimpressed. It blinked slowly between the two of you, flicking its head toward Jinu as if to say, Want a shovel to dig your grave deeper?

Jinu would have a full blown conversation with that ungrateful chicken if his attention wasn't stolen by your following words.

"Yeah, and?" you replied flatly, starting to pat Tiger without looking at Jinu. The spirit stood still, purring faintly, though it didn’t break his stare.

It was a stupid question. Jinu was going to say that aloud—but thankfully your voice cut through before he could.

"You're also a demon, and you're showing a clear interest in Rumi-nim." You met his eyes with a deadpan stare that made his spine tighten. His gaze flicked, involuntarily, toward the greeting card on the desk. Don’t look at it, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!

"I—I mean, as a fellow idol, it’s natural to be... cordial—"

But again, you cut him off, turning away as you focused on Tiger. Jinu stiffened, eyes falling on Magpie who continued preening its feathers with Tiger’s stolen hat, completely ignoring his discomfort.

"As a 'fellow idol', you owe her polite interactions and the occasional mention on your lives," you said, eyes locking with his again. "You’re doing more than that."

Jinu felt cornered. Accused of something he couldn’t explain to you. His brows knit as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Alright. And if I am—what of it? Doesn’t change how Baby behaves, does it?" His voice was flat.

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.

You froze mid-pat, inhaling sharply. Your posture turned rigid—but thankfully, being in contact with Tiger meant you were also being bathed in his calming aura. Instead of shouting or throwing something, you spoke through a strained breath,

"It does. If you can act like Rumi-nim matters, then so can Baby."

Jinu had to resist the urge to groan, roll his eyes, and laugh into his palm. Of course. Of course. That was how you saw it.

You thought he was being “attentive.” You assumed that meant some grand revelation. Maybe you thought his "heart" was changing, that he was maybe starting to think differently about humans.

But no—he was just using Rumi. She was a means to an end: the path to reclaiming his soul from Gwi-ma. If satisfying the Demon King meant playing the role of a human idol—luring in as many souls as possible with the hope that it might make the King more willing to return his one meek, pitiful soul—then so be it.

And yet, just the thought of what Rumi might feel—what her soul line would pulse with if she ever found out—made his hollow chest tighten as he wondered what emotion she'll willingly feed him once she finds out what his real goal was.

It wasn't even a betrayal… it was Rumi's naive nature to trust something with no soul. Just like you with Baby... Rumi had created unrealistic expectations of him too.

Still, none of this was something he could say to you. He couldn’t tell you that he wasn’t any better than Baby.

The fact that you even knew they were demons was already crossing a line. They couldn’t offer you anything more than this simply because it could jeopardize what they have build.

Humans were fickle like that.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Jinu let his hand settle over his mouth, trying to string together a sentence that would sound coherent enough to explain the situation from Baby's point of view.

Jinu's eyes flicked to you as you continued to pat Tiger, who still stood unmoving at your side. Both spirit animals focused on him—Tiger clearly anticipating the greeting card meant for Rumi, while Magpie looked far too smug for Jinu’s liking.

"How to put it..." Jinu muttered, gesturing for Tiger to come closer. The spirit prowled forward with deliberate slowness, unblinking eyes locked on him. Magpie, in contrast, glided down next to you, probably in some noble attempt to keep your nerves from fraying any further.

You trailed your eyes after Tiger, the stress and fatigue bleeding into your gaze, but then you gently started to trace a finger down Magpie’s spine. Jinu noticed that at least the tightness in your shoulders eased slightly.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what he said,” Jinu admitted as he folded the greeting card, keeping his tone even. “But there’s a high possibility that he just… bluntly said what he though at the time.”

He pressed his lips together. Tiger tilted his massive head to the side, bulbous eyes looking through him, clearly thinking: You're a fool

Not like Jinu needed reminding that he was probably making things worse. But sue him—he didn’t know what you expected him to say.

If he lied, you’d just march back to Baby, and that little bastard would crush all the soft hope Jinu managed to build with some sugary words. So all he could really do was try to soften the truth on Baby’s behalf.

Why can’t she go to Romance or Abby~ he whined internally, rolling his eyes as he turned, greeting card in hand.

With a flick of his wrist, he offered it to Tiger, who obligingly opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue. Jinu placed the folded card atop it with a sigh. No point hiding what you were clearly already aware of. Hopefully, you had some sense to keep it to yourself.

He gave you a sidelong, sceptical look, but it fall off when he caught the quiet way your body had curled in on itself. You were gently stroking Magpie’s feathers, your expression unreadable, but distant.

Jinu exhaled, placing a hand under Tiger’s jaw and gently guiding it shut, patting twice to signal the spirit to deliver the card to the purple-haired huntress. Then he turned back to you with a bit more urgency in his voice.

“Alright then. What do you want Baby to do?”

Maybe—maybe—he could actually get the brat to play along for once, just to calm you down. ...Maybe.

“Apology,” you said flatly, your eyes locking with his, hard as steel.

Jinu blinked.

And then— —he lost it.

He toppled sideways with a choked wheeze, clutching his stomach as laughter wracked his frame. Just the image of Baby apologising was absurd. Utterly beyond imagination.

Handing a cat a Bible and asking it to lead Sunday mass had higher success rate than Baby apologising. The young demon would no doubt look at him like he’d grown three heads before confidently diagnosing him as clinically insane.

As Jinu laughed himself breathless, he didn’t even register Tiger and Magpie slinking away. What he did notice was your now-throbbing honmoon wave, no longer behind the barrier, and radiating frustration.

Honestly, he was just impressed you were still this emotionally attached to the SAJA after what Baby had put you through. Wiping an invisible tear from his eye, Jinu sat up and met your glare head-on.

Arms crossed, expression locked down tight—you were not amused.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny about that?” you asked, voice dangerously calm.

He opened his mouth—and an involuntary snort escaped. Seeing your irritation bubble, he straightened quickly and cleared his throat.

“Well... you see,” he began, in the universal tone of a man about to say something you wouldn’t like.

“Uh-huh,” you prompted flatly.

“Apologising means the person believes they did something wrong,” Jinu continued, choosing his words carefully. “And I can very confidently tell you that Baby—”

- - -

“I don’t even know what I did wrong,” Baby groaned, fisting his hair as he stared down at the dark carpet of his room like it held all the answers to this frustrating and frankly uncalled for situation.

The constant pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows wasn’t helping. It only made Baby’s fingers twitch harder, itching to tear into something that would resist—something he could press against until it ripped.

Irritation, mixed with fury? Check. But only because you, for some incomprehensible reason, had to go and get upset over words. Characters.

Honest to Gwi-ma—invisible, untouchable things that just poured out of someone’s mouth. How could anyone get hurt by that? If you wanted pain, Baby could show you exactly what he did to humans who fought back during his feeding.

And yet... there was bitterness too. A hollow ache clinging under his skin. It made his jaw itch to sink into your honmoon and just roll in it.

He didn’t mind emotions—he wasn’t a picky eater—but fury? That tasted stale. Always just a layer for hurt, and hurt was the sweetly bitter flavour he never turned away from.

But when that hurt was tangled with anger, it tasted like a dessert coated in mould.

And now, with you still inside the apartment—your honmoon wave loud and heavy—it was impossible to ignore. He couldn’t take it anymore. So he dragged the closest brother of his with him to his room: Romance.

As they passed Abby, the other had to be grabbed by Romance by the back of his shirt just like Baby did to him as he could hear Abby curiously ask, “Oh? Where we goin’?”

Now, the two of them were seated on the bed in Baby's room, listening as he explained what had happened—though “explaining” was generous.

More like pacing in circles and hissing between clenched teeth as he began mentally debating whether licking bleach would soothe the sting in his mouth or if petting your honmoon would be more effective albeit risky with the state you were in.

Kicking you out would only make things worse. He knew that much.

His eyes finally left the carpet when Romance let out a long sigh—the kind that sounded straight out of one of Mystery’s dramas, complete with the tone of a tired, exasperated mother. He crossed one leg over the other, that dreamy smile curling over his lips.

“Aah, one has to admire humans for their shameless displays of selfishness.”

Baby shot him a sceptical look, hands finally dropping from his tangled hair. Why didn't I gone to Mystery instead?

Before he could voice the thought, Romance continued, voice light and knowing. “But it’s easy to understand what your human wants, my sweet little junior.”

“Call me that again and I’ll put that vanishing ability of yours to the test—”

“Mm, always so charming,” Romance said, waving him off as he leaned back, supporting himself on his arms. He locked eyes with Baby and smirked. “She’s dissatisfied~ You’re not giving her what she wants. Touches. Attention. Acts that make her feel special.”

He fluttered his lashes dramatically. Baby rolled his eyes, straightened, and arched a brow.

“Not everyone can act like you, shitty senior.”

Romance beamed. “Not as good, but they can try!” he chirped, holding up a finger like he was announcing a divine truth.

Baby exhaled hard, shaking his head. Then both he and Romance looked to Abby, once the other spoke, “If it’s so much hassle, why’d you even bother starting something with her?” Abby tilted his head, expression completely genuine.

They stared and he blinked back at them with the slow confusion of a dog not understanding another creatures speech.

Romance bit his bottom lip, visibly entertained, and reached over to pat Abby on the head. Abby blinked, but let him.

Baby, however, just stared at his so called senior like he’d said the most ridiculous thing in all of world's history.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Baby said dryly, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe because Jinu told me to accept her confession?”

Abby raised a brow while Romance, now fussing with his hair, didn’t even look surprised. Of course he knew. He had a habit of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong—especially the first time Baby had brought you home.

Abby, meanwhile, had just treated you like a living chocolate fountain he could snack on whenever you were around.

“Since when do you listen to anyone?” Abby asked, genuinely baffled.

Romance snorted and sat up proudly with hands on his hips, satisfied with his perfectly fixed hair. “Don’t worry,” he said with a laugh. “Baby didn’t hit his head. He only agreed because Jinu promised he could skip seven shows of his choice.”

That made Abby let out a long, exaggerated “Aaaaaaah!”—right before freezing and clamping his mouth shut. His eyes flicked back to Baby, confused again.

When is he not confused? Baby thought, already bracing himself as Abby opened his mouth to ask another question.

“But that still doesn’t explain… why you’re tolerating it.”

That gave Baby pause. He blinked, caught off-guard. He hadn't expected that level of insight from Abby of all beings.

Romance, on the other hand, didn’t even look surprised. He simply turned his attention from his hair to Baby, eyes glinting with curiosity, waiting, alongside Abby, for his answer.

They looked like those humans from that movie they watched “Dumb and Dumber.” Fantastic.

Baby sighed. Why does it even matter? But he gave a blunt reply anyway.

“Her soul helps suppress my hunger. I figured if I’m being forced to play pretend, I might as well get something out of it.”

He’d noticed it early on—whenever you were near, the gnawing void in his chest dulled slightly, tricking his instincts into thinking it was getting a full meal.

There was also another benefit to this bravado. As long as you didn’t try comforting him with words when Gwi-ma turned his skull into a private arcade, your touch was... grounding.

Of course, none of that was something he’d ever admit to these two jackals. And yet, even with the bare scraps he’d given them, both Romance and Abby were already grinning like they’d cracked some forbidden code. Jackasses.

The look they exchanged told Baby everything: Silence was the only safe option around these two, truly.

Why can’t they be this creative with the mission? he thought, mildly annoyed as his body instinctively tensed. He leaned back, away from Abby, who now wore a smirk that practically screamed bait.

“Well, that makes sense,” Abby drawled, eyes still on Romance as if Baby wasn’t even there. “Baby needs a pacifier during the day to keep calm.”

Romance nodded sagely, finger pressed under his chin like he was seriously contemplating Abby's words rather than suppressing a grin.

“Pacifiers do have the ability to keep Baby's nasty little temper in check, mm?”

At that, Abby flashed his sharp canines with a pointed look, practically daring Baby to lunge.

Baby knew they could’ve easily been referring to that snivelling pile of human meat that never stopped crying—but the words could also be taken another way. One that he knew was the correct one. He could feel his human glamour fading just slightly. Faint demon markings crept along his cheekbones, his own fangs peeking out as his claws dug into his palms.

His lips, darker now with a lack of oxygen, parted as he exhaled. And then he spoke—voice low, gravelly, and deadly calm.

“If I could… without alerting those three bitches to where we are… I’d slash every inch of your body, bit by bit, scatter the pieces across Korea, and watch your head roll around trying to put yourself back together.”

Yet instead of getting the reaction he wanted, Baby watched with half-lidded eyes and an involuntary twitch in his brow as Romance let out a delighted coo. Hands clasped together, the older demon gazed at him as if Baby hadn’t just threatened someone ranked above him. Worse, Romance even went and stretch out his hand, finger aimed at Baby’s nose for a little boop, and chirped, “Cute.”

Baby’s eye twitched.

And to make matters worse, Abby—arms crossed, muscles bulging in that infuriating way he knew was deliberate—wore the smuggest grin as he added in a teasing tone, “Can’t bring yourself to get fully rid of me? You must truly love me. Oh, I can just feel how much you care for me! ” He let out an exaggerated wail, swiping an invisible tear from under one eye and clutching the wrong side of his chest—the side where a heart wouldn’t be, even if he were human.

“Alright then,” Baby growled lowly.

His glamour frayed further as he rolled up his sweater sleeves, a malicious grin cutting across his face. His small tusks peeked from under his top lip, canines gleaming, and purple flames began licking off his skin. The pressure in his skull surged as Gwi-ma stirred, laughing in pure euphoria, egging him on with a hungry rasp: “C̶̛̩͈̋͑̎̽̈́l̵̲̥̫͚̳̞̗͒̊̽͘͝a̷̯͕̲̰̖̟̦͊͝w̵̛̬̱̦̻̟͗̄̄̋͜s̴̢̞̺̮͖͇̽͋̍͆̈́̔̍͂ ̴͉̯͕̹̞͖͈̈́͐̿̓̍̏̾͒t̷̡̢͉̖̠̺̺̝͗͊̐͛͒͠͠h̴̲̼̞̥̲̖͍͒͗͑̽̕r̸̙̘̟͍̺̟̲̱̋͑͒̿̇̒̚ơ̸̬̿̌̍͋́͗ų̴̘̟̤́̓͌̍̓͗g̶̠̝͍͈̼̦͕͐͋̅̋̀̈́h̵̛͇͗̏͋̄̍̈́̕ ̷̬̯̯̲̞̐̔̿̓̍͘͝͠t̵̺̖̩̦̳͖̯̜̉̈́̅̈́̚h̴̰̬͈͚̠̲̋̈́͗̽́͘͠ͅe̵̢͚̞̦̱̘̅͒̾̒̿͛͐͑͜ ̶̢͍̗̖͇̺͌̅͊̽͛͌̚c̶̳̤̞͈̬̩̬̐̄͜h̷̼̜̳͓̦̳̙̤̿͐̓̋͠e̵͖̰̰̲̼͕̅́̑̓͒̚͜s̷̢̢̱͖̠͓̈́̎̐̿͝t̶̛̤̖̬̟̮͌͂͠͝͝—̵̢̥͕̦̤͇̖̘̀̓̓̍̇̀͛̚s̷̘̱̼̋̈́̏͛̏̔͂͘l̴̞̮̱̞̬̩̏̈́o̵̠͎̤̮̥̫̔̈́̇́͝w̶̛̮̼̺͓͚̄̀̆͋͘͝ͅ ̴͇͎͍̖͓̒̅́͊̔͝͝a̴͖͓̰̳̲̞̍̒̎͗͊̕͘͜n̶̩̯͓͛͝d̸̹̮̟̰̺̼͈̏̏̽̾̏̀̕ ̵̻̯̥̞̺̪̙́́͛̑̽͝p̵̬̘̖̳̥̐̈́͊̚̚ͅa̵̢̨͖͇͈̲͐̈́ͅi̸̘̲͎͓͇͐͗̇͋̔̓̍͝n̷̙̟̙̮͑̍̓̿͆̅́ͅf̴̘̯͔̳̺͓͚̐̈́̇́̾͘ū̵̘̬̠͎̫͇̔̿̚l̵̢̢̺͚̜͇̐̽̐̐̎͘ͅ!”

Visions flickered across Baby’s mind, dizzying flashes of how to use abelites he didn't even knew possible—and for a moment, his vision blurred as he shook his head to fight it off.

He barely registered Abby’s widening grin as the older demon cracked his neck, clearly eager for the brawl. But before either of them could move—

They froze.

The air didn’t grow heavy like it did when Mystery was done tolerating their idiocy. No, it grew light. Too light.

Disorientingly so, like a false calm before something sharp breaks through. Baby almost wanted to laugh and flip Gwi-ma the middle finger as he felt his Lord disappear with furies thrashing before leaving Baby's head empty.

Only Romances aura was capable of submerging the demon King. He may not know the real reason, but he has a theory. Unlike the others, Romance never flooded them with his demonic presence like Mystery.

He let it slither—wrap and squeeze. It wasn’t choking—it was holding, threatening to shatter them from the inside if they so much as twitched. Baby felt it keenly in the way his ribs ached and his core pulled taut. And judging by the way Abby’s eyes widened beside him, he felt it too.

It didn’t help that Romance was older than both of them. Which made the subtle restraint feel effortless—unavoidable.

Baby knew, logically, that Romance didn’t have the kind of power that could cancel their regeneration. But it didn’t matter. The illusion—the intoxication—was enough to press every instinct into submission. He let out a slow breath, reluctantly pulling the frayed edges of his human disguise back into place, a silent show of compliance.

Only then did Romance smile wider, bringing his hands together with a gentle clap before easing off. As the pressure lifted, both Baby and Abby exhaled sharply, shoulders loosening.

Their eyes met.

A silent nod passed between them. Later.

If Romance noticed, he chose to ignore it. After all, what came later wouldn’t be his problem. Instead, he steered the conversation back to its original course, locking his brilliant eyes onto Baby’s with a quiet sort of focus.

“So?” Romance asked, folding his hands over his crossed legs. A lock of hair curled against his cheek as he tilted his head, flawless as always, voice soft with curiosity. “What are you planning to do, then?”

Great question. A slow smirk curved across Baby’s lips as he cracked his knuckles.

Now that the banter cooled him down and the storm of your emotions from your wave was drowned out by Abby’s demonic aura—still pulsing faintly from when he’d nearly launched himself at Baby—his head was clearer than it had been in days.

“Easy. Kill ’em.” He said it flatly.

Sure, he’d lose his easy snack. The occasional grounding effect you gave him when Gwi-ma got especially insufferable. Those moments when you simply enjoyed yourself without demanding anything, letting him exist without expectation. Moments when your happiness spread through him, and he did enjoy himself—those would vanish too.

But in return, he’d get back something far more valuable: the freedom to just be himself.

No more forcing conversation. No more awkward attempts to explain things you could’ve asked about without sounding like a guilt-ridden martyr. And that constant, nagging feeling—like you were trying to make him feel bad for you.

How? Baby always wanted to ask. He didn’t feel anything unless you did first. And when you were caught in that swirling mess of insecurity and longing, it made him want nothing more than to rip your soul out and consume it just to silence the white noise in his head.

So yes—pros outweighed the cons. Any day of the week.

And hey, maybe you'd finally find someone who was your actual match.

His words had barely finished leaving his mouth before Abby choked on his saliva, then cackled hysterically—head thrown back, heels of his feet thudding on the floor. Romance winced, pressing a manicured hand to his chest as if personally wounded, eyes flicking to Baby’s deadpan expression.

“Please don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Your kills are always so... messy.” His nose crinkled as he pulled a face of exaggerated distaste.

Baby crossed his arms and raised a brow at him. “Alright then. What should I do instead?” His tone was bored, but he was listening.

That was all it took. Romance perked up immediately, and just as Abby’s laughter began to taper off, they both blurted out two completely different responses at once:

“Suck ’em dry,” Abby grinned.

“Apologise,” Romance said at the exact same time.

Baby blinked, owlishly at first, then narrowed his eyes with growing scepticism—just as both Romance and Abby snapped their heads towards each other, startled.

For a brief moment, Baby swore the two of them were having a full telepathic conversation. Then, without a word, they nodded in perfect synchrony.

Romance turned back to him, casually, while Baby—still with arms crossed—had leaned down slightly, watching the pair with thinly veiled disbelief, scanning between them for any trace of logic. Naturally, he found none.

Romance shrugged. “Calm her down by apologising. Then devour her. No soul ever tastes good angry.”

Huh. Baby straightened up, expression easing as he nodded slowly. Romance had a point. Even if Baby wasn’t picky, it was common demonic knowledge that rage-flavoured souls only appealed to a rare few with weird palates.

Before he could open his mouth to agree, a soft click broke the moment.

The doorknob to his room twisted, the door creaking open. All three snapped their attention to it, wide-eyed—no doubt looking like startled hares caught in torchlight.

Baby didn’t know who to expect. But it definitely wasn’t Mystery, half-visible behind the slowly opening door.

He blinked. His spine snapped upright as his usually droopy eyes widened into doe-like. Romance, unfazed, lifted a hand in a pleasant wave. Abby grinned like a proud idiot for some reason.

While Baby continued to stare at Mystery as if the man didn’t live under the same roof, it was Romance who broke the silence.

“What are you doing here senior?” he asked, smiling, his tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Mystery stood motionless, one hand still on the doorknob. They couldn’t see his eyes, but Baby had the creeping suspicion the eldest had blinked once before speaking, voice as soft and chilling as ever.

“I was told to come... by him,” he replied coolly, raising two perfectly shaped fingers to point directly at Abby—who only grinned wider.

That snapped Baby out of his daze. He flinched slightly, turning sharply as Romance—seated next to Abby—did the same.

“Why?” Romance asked with a calm tilt of his brow, voicing what Baby had been about to bark out himself.

Abby looked far too pleased with himself, arms crossed over his chest like a smug lion. “Since Baby was being dramatic, it had to be important. So I figured Mystery would be perfect for solving it! While Baby was yapping and growling, I texted Mystery to come over.”

He said it like it was the most obvious, brilliant solution in the world.

Romance and Baby both gawked at him. Abby didn’t seem to notice. He turned back to Mystery—who remained standing in the doorway like a weathered statue—completely unreadable.

“What took you so long, old man?”

That was usually the kind of thing no one dared to say to Mystery—ranked as he was, not to mention his power—but Abby lacked the instinct for self-preservation. Always had.

Mystery, for his part, didn’t react in the slightest. He merely responded with a quiet, clinical jab, “Saw your name.”

Baby snorted, lips twitching into a grin. Romance chuckled softly behind his hand. Abby, oblivious, beamed.

“Ah! Still learning how to open the magical boxes in the phone?” he asked brightly, already launching into a pointless explanation. “You just gotta—”

Mystery stepped back without a word, shutting the door slowly.

That alone pulled Baby back into focus.

Wait. Abby might’ve actually been on to something.

And Mystery did have the most functioning brain cells out of anyone here. That alone made him worth listening to.

Baby stepped forward slightly, expression softening again, a rare earnestness in his voice. “Would Mystery-nim consider... having a moment still?”

For once, there was no sass or smugness behind it. Just a sincere question—he wanted to hear what his senior had to say.

A silence followed. Romance and Abby glanced between the two, waiting.

Mystery didn’t move right away. He remained still in the hallway, back to them. Baby couldn’t feel nervous, that was taken together with his soul by Gwi-ma. Baby could only stand quietly, watching, waiting for a respond to react to.

Finally, Mystery turned his head just enough to face him. Though his eyes were covered, his aura gave a brief flicker of contemplation. Then, he finally gave a short nod.

With a shift of his shoulders, Mystery stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He stood inside the room, saying nothing—but making it clear he was waiting for Baby to explain the issue.

Baby didn’t waste a second.

He launched back into the explanation—this time without the growls, or slipping into demonic dialect that made Romance and Abby squint or read his aura like a weathered text. Now, it was just words. Clear, sharp, and finally spoken with some composure.

Once the full story was out, the room fell quiet.

Mystery hadn’t moved from where he first stationed himself, still standing near the door. The only change was the tilt of his head—chin lowered as he absorbed Baby’s words in full silently but most importantly thoroughly.

The three waited, clearly too eager despite trying not to show it.

Finally, Mystery straightened. He turned his head towards Baby. The attention made his fingers twitched slightly, resisting the urge to clap like an overeager child. Instead, he sharpened, silent, listening with his full focus.

“Humans are needy creatures,” Mystery began in his cool, steady tone—echoing Romance’s earlier words—before continuing without pause. “You should have taken that into account before letting Jinu sway you.”

Ah. Baby’s eyes flicked to the side.

It wasn’t a reprimand, exactly—Mystery wasn’t one for scolding—but the truth stung all the same. That was the reminder. Baby had been just as selfish as you, and this? This was the cost of that.

Fair. His eyes dropped to the carpet, shoulders heavy as Mystery’s voice carried on, calm and unbothered.

“However,” he said, “she is not one to leave.”

That snapped Baby’s head up. Mystery continued, head tilting slightly, fringe shifting, though never revealing the sharp briliant eyes hidden behind. “So... even if the two of you had a mindless argument over a foolish disagreement—which, I agree, could’ve been handled more peacefully if she wasn't blinded by her lack of self-worth—she’ll return. Even if you give her space and don’t speak to her.”

Baby grimaced, subtly. That didn’t help.

It wasn’t that he disliked the idea of keeping your cooling wave around... It was the thought of you returning anyway. Coming back while still expecting something from him he visibly couldn’t give.

But Mystery, unfazed, didn’t pause.

He lifted his chin to glance at the ceiling. “Of course, humans are fickle. So if she does surprise us and doesn’t return—worst-case scenario—she may attempt to damage your name. And, by extension, SAJA’s name. On those human gathering zones—”

“Socials, senior,” Romance cut in, smiling as he gently corrected.

Mystery paused only to nod, then continued, barely missing a beat. “...‘Socials’,” he echoed, as if the word were a foreign incantation. “The humans under the company that manage our images and interactions on those... 'Socials', would easily turn the narrative. She’d be painted as overbearing. You, as the wounded victim.”

He turned his face back toward Baby, cool and direct.

“That way, Jinu still gets the attention he wanted from the relationship,” he said plainly. “And you—get your ‘time’ back.”

Mystery finished with the same calm he always carried. He offered no emotional comfort, no praise—only clean-cut logic and resolution, as if he were stating a weather report.

The lack of him commenting on you potentially revealing they were demons spoke volumes too. No one would believe you and even spin it into one of those wild theories that would just give SAJA more attention through the content the humans would spin out of it.

Romance gave an approving clap, fingers snapping in a polished, regal manner. “Brilliant, as always.”

Abby just groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Too many turns and curves. I think I got whiplash.”

Baby sighed heavily. His arms folded again as he rocked back on the heels of his feet, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

“So much fucking unnecessary drama...” he muttered, his voice trailing off, drawn out by the pitter-patter of rain tapping steadily against the windows, ringing in his ears and echoing in his mind.

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys #request #ficrequest #baby kpdh #baby saja #saja boys x reader #baby saja x reader

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bambinettea · 2 days ago

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ׅ ׄ ܱ ❊ ๋ visi᥆ᥒ 𝅄 ᤻֗ 🍊 ✾ ࣪ ‌ ࣭

︵ ུ 🧶 ๋ ◞ ⸝ ⸝ 𞥊ׅ ۪

ꪆ᷼ ✿ ۫ ࣭ ᮫ 🧡^᪲᪲᪲ ױ ੭̲

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hattersrabbit · 16 hours ago

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TAKE CONTROL, COUNTRY BOY

corenswet! superman x reader | nsfw

CW! gn! reader, sub reader, soft dom clark, thigh riding, praise, strength kink, size kink, self indulgent post, drabble(?)

✎ᝰ. saw him on Friday and couldn't stop thinking about him

˖꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

Resting your end on large thighs with a soft grin. A glint in you're eyes as you chased this need to get off on him.

"Clark please?" You pouted. Ever the gentleman he relented. He said nothing and only left his muscles to relax and you led his hands to your hips. Sweetly, he gripped firmly, and using his strength moved you.

A small noise was released from you're lips from the sudden pressure.

"Move with me." A soft whisper into your neck. One of his thighs pressed firmly against you, and moving up and down, and interchangeably side to side. You're moans weren't mistaken.

He was so much bigger than you. He made it clear in these moments. "Good job, dumpling." He kissed you're neck. Clinging to his white button up as he assaulted you with his thigh.

"You're so good. C'mon, move those hips for me."

You did so without complaint. "So beautiful like this." He silenced you're moans with his lips atop yours. Hands on you're hips and moving them along with your fruitless movements.

You felt so aroused. Like you could come any minute. Breath caught in a tizzy as Clark took away you're right to breathe. His very existence giving you more pleasure than you knew what to do with, and you loved it.

Tearing away. Clark could tell what what happened, and so he took complete control. His thigh going harder against your core. Moans louder than ever.

"Good job, baby." Praises sent feelings in your gut, and into your core.

Soft touches against his face. His hands still on you're hips, and working you still on his thigh. "More.." You pleaded for him with tears in your eyes.

His hand drifted beneath you're underwear. Doing whatever he wanted to you. "Can i?" Ever the gentleman. You nodded, and greeted into a world of newfound pleasure. Moving you against his thigh without a care.

"You want it?"

"Yes! Please, Clark! More!"

"How good you are, dumpling."

The pressure against your core was gone. A hand was messing you up, and it wasn't his thigh. A loud moan was voiced from you both as you two joined together.

You were in for a lot tonight. More than you asked, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent smut #david corenswet x reader #corensupes #gn reader #smut #dc x reader #dc smut

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jamonconquesso · 2 days ago

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N🅔CKLAC🅔 𓈒 𓈒 𒂭۪۪۪۪᳝۟ 𝟏𝟐𝟒

✚ॱֺּׅ༏ིྀ𓏼 you find nam-gyu's necklace abandoned on the ground. an unbeatable opportunity to collect what he owes you: the man who always considered you less is now battered and weak. it's your moment to take advantage. 𓈒 །∔ ‿◞

─── ׅ 𝄂𝄚𝅦𝄚 ꫮ𓈓𓊆𓋜์𝃌〪〫 n🅐m-gyu x 🅡eader , 🅢mut , 🅓rugs mention, 🅑lood and 🅥iolence ; 🄜🄐🄢🄣🄔🄡🄛🄘🄢🄣　๋ · 𓈒𝅘𝅥

The flickering fluorescent lights of the dilapidated bathroom pulsed with a dying beat, casting a pale shroud over the cold, stained tiles. You dangled the cross necklace between your fingers, feeling the icy, metallic texture of the piece against your skin, an inert caress. Nam-gyu's eyes, glassy and feverish, devoured every swing of the object, fixed on it with hypnotic greed, as if the rusted metal were the epicenter of his existence. His hands, once firm and mocking, now remained clasped, pleading, writhing in a mute plea for the tiny pills encapsulated within the pendant. The image of him, so torn by anguish, so desperate for an infinitesimal dose, plunged you into a profound perplexity. You, oblivious to the unfathomable abyss of addiction, incapable of understanding the torture of a body that begs, watched with a mix of bewilderment and slight revulsion that overwhelming need.

You knew of his addiction, of course. You knew it from the first time you heard him beg Thanos for pills, justifying his plea with the uncontrollable trembling and cold sweat that soaked his hands. You hadn't cared back then; as long as it guaranteed the team's victory in the game, any method was valid. You'd see him bite the pill with an almost animalistic ferocity, as if it were a mouthful of honey, and from that moment, his dependence had grown exponentially, transforming into an invisible chain that bound him to daily survival. When Thanos died, Nam-gyu had clung to that necklace with a quasi-religious devotion, as if his very life hung from that worn cord. Meanwhile, his presence had become a subtle invasion, a cat-and-mouse game where he, with an inherent toxicity, treated you like a malleable toy he longed to dominate. Incapable of controlling his own imperious needs, he took it out on you, pushing you to the limits of your patience and your own safety. You still remembered Nam-gyu's guttural laugh, a harsh, humorless cackle, as you choked, coughing violently and gagging on your own saliva, after being thrown out of the room a mere four seconds from the end.

You couldn't stand him. You really couldn't. You longed for him to vanish from your sight, for a sudden death in the next game to erase him from existence. You just wanted him gone. However, an undeniable truth persisted in your mind: Nam-gyu was undeniably attractive, even in his most grotesque and peculiar moments. When the light fell on the edge of his pronounced cheekbones, enhancing an implacable hardness; when, with an almost flirtatious gesture, he combed his dark, rebellious hair, tucking some strands behind his ears, revealing the outline of a sharp profile; when his fingers, long and adorned with silver rings, played with the metal, in a distracted but mesmerizing dance... You felt overwhelmed by guilt, almost mortified by the furtive admiration you gave him for more than three seconds. And, of course, he perceived it. He laughed, a dry, triumphant sound, and brazenly tugged at your clothes every time you quickly averted your gaze. You hated the insidious control he had managed to exert over you. That's why, when you saw him plunged into that abject desperation, searching and begging for his necklace, you saw the perfect opportunity.

You found it near one of the corpses, covered in traces of coagulated blood, a grim sight that added to the already macabre scene. It surprised you that Nam-gyu hadn't noticed its absence. You slipped it into your pocket and continued the day with a façade of normalcy. Until you saw him, later, screaming wildly at the guards, almost provoking a volley of shots for the same insignificant piece of metal. Passing by the oppressive men's bathroom, a muffled whimper reached you from inside. The sound was incredibly potent, and the pathetic degradation it evidenced bothered you. You had to do something.

With no guards in sight, you entered the bathroom. The moan, now closer, came from one of the stalls. You couldn't discern if they were sobs, laments, mere suffering, or a cacophony of all three. You ignored all the warnings your conscience screamed at you. You'd allow yourself, for once, the pleasure of calculated cruelty. You opened the stall door with slow, deliberate movements. Nam-gyu was huddled on the floor, his hands covering his face, his knees almost touching his chest. Seeing you, he flinched, a brusque, alarmed start. Sweat beaded his forehead, sliding down his temples until it almost soaked his dark, sticky hair. His hand, trembling, reached out to you, gripping the fabric of your jacket with surprising strength. He closed his eyes for a second, his brow deeply furrowed, his face a map of agony.

──What...? What the hell are you doing here? Go... Just... Get lost,── he hissed, his voice barely a hoarse thread, tinged with a mix of shame and despair. He released his grip, recoiling slightly, like a wounded animal seeking its lair. You didn't take your eyes off him, observing his figure. He looked pathetic, unimaginably weak and pitiful. He began to scratch his skin with frenzied anxiety, his nails digging into his flesh with a violence that made you shiver.

You extended a hand to stop those self-destructive movements; if he kept going, he'd completely fall apart. He tried to pull away from your grasp, but you held him, your strength overcoming him in his vulnerable state. You pulled the necklace from your pocket, the metal cross gleaming under the sickly light, and positioned it in front of Nam-gyu's face, dangling it with exasperating slowness from side to side. Now, Nam-gyu's eyes didn't leave the necklace. His hands rose, almost with devotion, as if the object were a divine relic and you, an avenging angel who granted or denied it. ──Look, is this what you want?── you dared to inquire, your voice quiet, almost a whisper. You moved a little closer to him, bending your knees to reduce the imposing distance, adopting a more intimate posture. When he tried to take the necklace, you pulled it away with an agile movement. Nam-gyu, in a burst of frustration and need, almost lunged at you in a desperate attempt to snatch it.

──Hey... Listen... Listen to me,── he pleaded, kneeling on the cold floor in front of you, adopting a posture of humiliating submission, almost like prayer. You hit your back against the wall, the physical proximity between you becoming suffocating, charged with an electrifying tension. ──Forgive me! I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. I apologize for everything, okay? I'm so sorry, but, please, I can't do anything without it.── You cast a quick glance at the necklace in your hand, tightening your grip. All that façade of strength, that calculated mental disturbance, that feigned self-confidence, it all depended on a few miserable pills. He was a helpless coward beneath all that paraphernalia, a simple, anxious pushover who begged you on his knees when he used to brazenly revel in your suffering.

He continued to plead for mercy, detailing with a broken voice how much he needed it, how vital it was to him. You began to feel tired; the expected satisfaction wasn't arriving. It was an auditory anguish, almost despairing. You decided you'd leave, that you'd let him rot in that infected bathroom, that you wouldn't look back. But his sudden, desperate grip on your leg stopped you dead. His eyes, once defiant, now looked at you with an abject plea, begging for mercy. You swallowed hard at the rawness of the scene. An ambiguous shiver, half repulsion, half an unknown spark, ran down your spine. Your eyes fixed on his raw vulnerability, on this broken man who, in some aberrant way, ignited something primal within you. A warm, strange electric current snaked through your veins, a treacherous response to the pathetic nakedness of his need. It was incredible how suddenly desirable he looked in that posture, so desirable, and a sudden, unconfessable need to ruin him even more filled your body. The desire for him to stay that way, prostrate beneath you, submissive and yearning, burned within you, a dark and disturbing discovery about yourself.

Although Nam-gyu's attention wasn't directed specifically at you, but at that crude, battered necklace, you couldn't ignore the tremor running through your own body. ──Damn it... Damn it, damn it! What do you want? What the hell do you want from me?!── He clung to the fabric of your pants, his fingers squeezing your thighs with desperate force, in a frantic search for answers. You swallowed tremblingly, a fierce and ruthless moral dilemma tearing you apart from within. You weren't "that kind of person," truly, you weren't, you had never believed yourself capable of such depravity, but the sweaty, damp, abject sight of him, his exposed vulnerability, pleading, desire, ignited something primal in you.

A heavy, dense silence settled between you, the only sounds Nam-gyu's ragged breathing and the wild pounding of your own heart. You felt the air stagnate in your lungs, a painful pressure in your chest. Time, capriciously, had stopped, an eternity suspended in the stench of dampness and despair. Your lower lip trembled barely, an almost imperceptible movement that betrayed the volcano of emotions bubbling within. A slow, deliberate blink, as your mind processed the raw vulgarity of the proposal.

──You want... You want to... fuck? Goddamn it, I can fuck you if you want.

The proposition, raw and devoid of any delicacy, resonated in the stale air of the bathroom, an icy slap that stole your breath. Your lips parted in an inaudible gasp, your eyes, once firm, now wide, lost in the unreality of the moment. It was a dream, a feverish hallucination, right? Impossible that Nam-gyu could have uttered such obscenity, such a desperate plea, at that instant. Time, capriciously, had stopped, an eternity suspended in the stench of dampness and despair. You felt the air stagnate in your lungs, a painful pressure in your chest. You were convinced you had remained motionless for over a minute, each second an agony of self-questioning, because he stirred, crawling even closer to your thighs, resting his head on them. His voice, now an urgent, almost unintelligible murmur, pierced the silence: ──Shit, answer me. Do you want to do it or not?

You felt his fingers ascend the fabric of your clothes, probing with an intensity that made you feel shamelessly exposed, an intrusion that raised goosebumps on your skin. A slight pain began to radiate from the pressure, and you prayed he wouldn't perceive how warm and treacherously damp your skin was becoming under his touch.

You nodded. An almost imperceptible movement, a decision made in the dense haze of an ambiguous desire that felt alien to yourself. Your body responded before your mind. You weren't sure of the implications, of the consequences. Surely he'd snatch the necklace from your hand, push you aside, mercilessly mock you for the rest of the games. But you dismissed that idea with astonishing speed when he abruptly stood up and, with a mix of ferocity and an almost animal need, took your waist in his hands, pulling you towards him with undeniable force, an irresistible magnet of darkness and desire.

You placed your hands on his chest, an act that, at any other time, would have been a firm repudiation, a decisive push to create distance. But now, under the dim light of that sordid bathroom, your open palms on his warm skin felt less like a wall and more like a fragile barrier, permeable to the storm emanating from him. The necklace, that insignificant piece of metal that had dictated so much of his torment and your unexpected power, slipped from your fingers, falling with a minuscule clink onto the wet, grimy tile. Its faint sound was muffled, swallowed by the dense atmosphere of desperation that enveloped them. He, his senses completely dulled by craving, seemed not to register it at all; his mind, now a maddened labyrinth, was totally absorbed in his primary need, a ravenous hunger that surpassed any other perception.

With an instinctive, almost convulsive movement, he buried his face in the hollow of your neck, seeking refuge, anchor, or perhaps, liberation. His incipient beard, sparse and rough, scraped your skin with a raw friction, a touch that was both strange and strangely intimate. An ambiguous shiver, not entirely unpleasant, ran down your neck. You tried to push him away, yes, a crude, almost theatrical attempt, your arms barely exerting force, a simulation of rejection that hid an unconfessable truth. A part of you didn't want him to leave, yearned to prolong this moment of supreme power. Your treacherous muscles didn't respond with the necessary firmness; every gesture was a vague, ineffective movement.

The closeness was overwhelming, suffocating; you could feel every erratic pulse of his body, just inches from your own skin. His feverish heat radiated towards you, enveloping you in a suffocating bubble of shared misery. His breath, warm and with a sour stench of bile and despair, hit your collarbone directly, a nauseating and potent reminder of his absolute vulnerability, an image so far removed from the haughty Nam-gyu he had always been. His entire body was a tangle of erratic and uncoordinated spasms, trembling incessantly, each tremor bringing him closer to imminent collapse, his nervous system on edge, begging for the peace of unconsciousness.

Suddenly, without warning, without a syllable, without a glance, you felt his teeth sink into your skin, a sharp prick that elicited a slight, almost inaudible gasp from you. He began to bite and suck with brutal, desperate force, as if trying to extract from you the very essence he lacked, the substance of his survival. You could feel the raw suction, the sharp and growing pain, but instead of repulsion, a strange sensation of chilling satisfaction began to spread through your veins.

The pain from his teeth intensified, a constant, raw pulsation that vibrated on your skin. You couldn't ignore it; the throb was vivid, an undeniable sign of his intrusion, but a newly discovered facet of your being, a dark corner you were unaware of, didn't want to stop him completely. A thin, warm trickle of blood began to slide down your shoulder, tangible evidence of his abject need. He felt it, his erratic tongue tasted it with a slight lick, and a guttural, almost inhuman moan escaped from deep within his throat. It wasn't a moan of pleasure, not as you knew it, but of agonizing relief, a primal, desperate sound, as if that act, that desperate violence, was the only thing capable of calming the raging fire in his veins, the unbearable torment of his withdrawal.

His hands, previously clinging to your waist with the force of an anchor in a storm, now tightened with an intensity that made you feel vulnerable, irrevocably trapped. Not from fear of physical harm, not from fear of his intentions, but from the inexorability of the situation, of that perverse connection weaving between you, so alien to reason. The bathroom's atmosphere, already oppressive with the smell of stagnant dampness and cheap disinfectant that failed to mask the grime, became suffocating with Nam-gyu's acrid sweat, the persistent bile stench of his breath, and now, the faint but unmistakable metallic scent of your own blood, a macabre tribute to this moment. A part of your mind, cold and analytical, registered with almost clinical precision the pathetic image of Nam-gyu, reduced to a trembling, supplicating beast, and compared it to the haughty, cruel man he had been, the one who reveled in your humiliation and controlled every interaction. The satisfaction emanating from that comparison was immense, perverse in its sweetness, an unexpected victory. But another part, more visceral, more primitive, felt inexplicably drawn to the raw need emanating from him, to the complete abandonment of his pride, to the abyss of his desperation, a dark force that resonated with your own.

His bites slowed, less violent, transforming into a series of eager, almost ravenous hickeys, like a hungry child clinging to a breast, seeking vital sustenance, an image that should repel and yet only intensified the strange tension. You could feel the erratic rhythm of his heart beating furiously against your chest, a wild drumming that echoed in your own temples, synchronizing with the rising tide within you. His fingers, once skilled at scoffing and mockery, at pointing out your weaknesses, now squeezed you with desperate force, as if you were the only solid surface in a world crumbling beneath his feet, his only hope. It was an abject dependence, an overwhelming weight that settled on you, but also an undeniable confirmation of your power. It was no longer he who dragged you to the limit with his poison; now it was you who held the edge of his abyss, and the sense of control was as intoxicating as it was terrifying, a drug more potent and addictive than the one he craved.

Nam-gyu's hands, impatient and anxious, clumsily slid up your torso, searching, feeling, with an urgency bordering on desperation, until they found their way to your breasts. Through the thin fabric of your clothes, he squeezed them with an almost possessive force, feeling their weight and firmness, a discovery that made him gasp slightly, as if he had found an oasis in the desert. Your moans, previously contained by surprise and inhibition, now became more pronounced, more urgent, a guttural and uncontrollable response to the increasing pressure, as your fingers instinctively dug into his back, not to push him away, but to urge him on, to deepen that strange connection. You felt his ragged breath on your neck, a burning ember slowly consuming you, burning away the last barriers of your resistance.

Without warning, with a hasty movement that lacked all grace or delicacy, he knelt again, his hands trembling uncontrollably as he hurried to pull down your pants. The fabric slid with a soft, almost imperceptible brush against your legs, revealing the intimacy of your body, now slightly damp with a warm moisture. The scent of his arousal, raw, animal, overwhelming, grew intense, mixing with the stale air of the cubicle, an irresistible invitation that enveloped you completely, clouding your judgment. With trembling fingers, clumsy from urgency, he tore off his own underwear with a pull, exposing pale, sweaty skin, and the promise of even greater vulnerability, a tacit pact of mutual exposure.

Separating your legs slightly, Nam-gyu buried his head between them. You could feel the hair on your sensitive skin, the dampness of his forehead, and then, with a palpable desperation that vibrated in every fiber of his being, his tongue found its target. Long, urgent licks, exploratory and hungry, traced every fold, every curve of your intimacy. His hands, though still trembling with urgency and desire, gripped your thighs with surprising strength, holding you close, ensuring you wouldn't escape, that you would be completely his in that instant of absolute abandon. You, overwhelmed by the most primal and disconcerting pleasure, by a sensation that bordered on the forbidden, arched against him, your moans filling the confined air of the small cubicle, an uninhibited symphony of desire, need, and a dark satisfaction that chilled your blood and inflamed you at the same time.

Nam-gyu, now completely lost in his own world of lust and desperation, driven by a force that transcended reason, intensified his efforts. His tongue moved faster, more frantically, his suckling grew stronger, more insistent, almost painful in its voracity. Your breathing became erratic, broken, a series of gasps and choked sighs, your moans higher, more desperate, on the verge of a scream you didn't know was of agony or pure ecstasy. The scent of his arousal, which was intense before, grew even stronger, more intoxicating, an olfactory drug that mingled with the taste of your own essence in his mouth, a combination that maddened him even more, pushing him to the edge of his own abyss. An inescapable tension, a taut rope about to break, vibrated in the air, promising a fall or a release. Nam-gyu's desperation was your control, and his humiliation, your perverse crown.

Suddenly, Nam-gyu grabbed your shoulders with a force that made you stumble, turning you with a rough, ungraceful movement, yet charged with a volcanic urgency. The cold metal door of the cubicle, its rough, icy surface, dug into your forehead with a dull impact that left you momentarily stunned, an abrupt shock that made you blink. Surprised by the speed and crudeness of the turn, you tried to turn back, your eyes searching for him, wanting to decipher the abyss that now opened between his plea and this new imposition. But he, with a firm, dominant hand on the back of your neck, held you motionless against the icy metal, your face pressed against the inert surface. His breathing, previously ragged from oral pleasure, was now a hoarse, wheezing, urgent gasp against your ear, a fiery breath that betrayed his feverish impatience, his desperation.

──Stay still── he whispered, his voice rougher than ever, barely a guttural growl, but laden with an unbreakable command, a demand that pierced your eardrum. His body trembled, not just from anticipation, but from an uncontrollable need that devoured him from within. His rude, anxious hands descended with a clumsy, frantic movement, sliding your pants and underwear to your ankles with a harsh rasp of fabric against skin, an invasive whisper announcing the dispossession of your last barriers. You felt the immense heat of his body behind you, an intense, crazed, almost feverish source of warmth. His heavy, rapid breathing struck the back of your neck, the accelerated, furious pounding of his heart echoing in your ears like a tribal, primitive drum, marking the beat of a wild dance.

He positioned himself behind you, his sweaty hips pressing eagerly against yours, and you could feel the undeniable evidence of his desire, hard, throbbing, an unbearable tension against your exposed skin. The musk of desperation and the salt of his skin filled everything. With a slowness that felt agonizing and exquisite in equal measure, he entered you. Each inch he advanced was a pang, an extension, a sweet and exquisite agony that stole your breath. A muffled groan escaped your lips as you trembled, your muscles tense, clinging to the cold door like an anchor in a shipwreck of sensations. And he groaned too, a guttural, primal sound that vibrated through both bodies, fusing his desperation with your forbidden pleasure, a dissonant symphony of need.

──Goddamn it...── he whispered again, his voice a harsh whisper, almost a desperate lament, a litany of his own miseries. ──I need you... Fuck.── The vulgarity was inherent in him, a part as intrinsic as his desperation, a mark of his origin and his fall. His hands, sweaty and nervous, but possessed by an iron will, began to traverse your body with a wild eagerness, caressing, exploring, his fingers tracing erratic, hungry patterns on your skin, claiming every inch. You could feel every detail, every sensation intensified, multiplied: the sticky touch of his skin, the penetrating smell of his animal desire, the metallic taste of anticipation that floated densely in the stale air.

He began to move inside you, slowly at first, with a caution that belied the ferocity in his eyes, the craving that burned them. Then, the rhythm grew, unstoppable, each thrust a promise of liberation for him, of oblivion for both of you. You lost yourself in the sensation, your rational thoughts fading into a sea of pure, uninhibited sensations.

With each thrust, the reality of your situation blurred, immersing you deeper and deeper into a haze of pure sensations. The cold metal door against your forehead, which at first anchored you to consciousness, now felt like an extension of the tension running through you, a necessary support to keep from collapsing under the whirlwind. Nam-gyu's moans grew more frequent, sharper, interspersed with guttural and vulgar exclamations that, instead of repelling you, intensified the raw nature of his surrender.

──Oh, shit...── he gasped, his voice almost torn, so close to your ear that you felt the hot, stale breath penetrate you to the bone. His hands clung to your waist with brutal force, his fingers sinking into your flesh with the desperation of someone clinging to life. Your own nails, almost without you realizing it, dug into his hands, tracing invisible furrows in his sweaty skin. A part of you wanted to push him away, to break free, but another, the one that now dominated, writhed with an unconfessable pleasure, begging for more, for total dissolution in the act.

The bathroom's stench, that mix of disinfectant and desperation, transformed into the dense, musky air of your own interaction. You could smell his sweat, salty and acrid, mixing with yours, a primal alchemy. The sound of his hips striking against yours, an increasingly frantic rhythm, joined your gasps and his grunts, creating a chaotic but hypnotic symphony that resonated in the narrow space of the cubicle. Each of Nam-gyu's thrusts was a dry, precise blow that pushed you beyond limits, exploring depths you didn't know existed.

──Like that... Yes...── he murmured, his voice barely a thread, almost a choked groan in his desperation. ──Do you feel it, uh? Do you feel me wrecking you?── His words, crude and laden with accumulated resentment, hit you with unexpected force, but they didn't stop the wave of sensations. ──You enjoyed watching me suffer there, didn't you? You enjoy watching me suffer?── His question, a poisonous discharge that mixed the pain of his addiction with the humiliation he felt, was tinged with a contained rage, but also a vulnerability you couldn't have imagined in him. It was a cruel retribution, a slap to the control you had exerted.

The vulgarity of his words should have been a cold shower, an alarm bell for your conscience. But in that moment, enveloped in the whirlwind of sensations, you clung to them, to the crudeness of his language, to the absolute lack of filters in his desperation. It was a confirmation, a validation of his surrender, of how low he had fallen to get what he needed. The irony was brutal: in his eagerness to control you, to subdue you, he had offered you the most absolute control, a dark and intoxicating power you had never possessed.

Your legs trembled, your muscles tensed on the verge of cramping, and the pressure inside you grew, inescapable, a knot tightening with each thrust. The heat was scorching, a flame rising through your body, burning away any trace of modesty or rationality. You no longer thought; you only felt. You felt each of Nam-gyu's thrusts, the slide of skin against skin, the echo of his moans in your chest.

Suddenly, Nam-gyu's movements grew more erratic, more savage, stripped of any rhythm, purely driven by need. The drumming of his heart against your back accelerated into a frantic tachycardia. A final thrust, deep and visceral, wrung a groan from you that was choked in the thick air. You could feel the tension in his body before a violent discharge shook him. A prolonged growl, almost the roar of a wounded animal, escaped his lips as he convulsed against you, his body trembling, seizing in the climax of his desperation. The tension, that rope that had held them together on the precipice, finally gave way, releasing a tide of sensations.

The heat within you intensified into an incandescent explosion, a scorching release that made you arch your back against the metal door. Your own limbs, previously tense and yearning, relaxed in a liberating spasm, and the world tilted on its axis, losing all consistency. You could hear your own ragged gasps, the death rattles of your own ecstasy, mixing with his. It was a bitter and sweet climax at once, a culmination of violence and desire, of control and submission.

When the last tremor left him, silence returned to the cubicle, dense and heavy. Nam-gyu remained clinging to you, his weight suddenly heavy and overwhelming, his breathing still ragged and erratic against the back of your neck. The stench of sweat and despair was almost unbearable now that the adrenaline was fading. His hands, previously urgent and anxious, still encircled your waist, but now his grip was weaker, almost trembling, as if all strength had completely abandoned him.

A shiver of lucidity ran through you. The pleasure, perverse and dark, began to dissipate, leaving behind a residue of guilt, a quiet unease. Nam-gyu, the man who had tormented you, lay exhausted and vulnerable, his face hidden in your shoulder, his body, once full of controlled cruelty, now reduced to a trembling mass of satisfied need. The inversion of power was total, absolute, and the sensation left a metallic taste in your mouth, like the blood still dripping down your shoulder.

He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just breathed, brokenly, his body inert against yours. It was the silence of the hangover, of the raw reality looming over the consummated act. There were no more shouts or pleas, only the echo of a shared transgression.

The air in the cubicle had grown heavier, dense with the post-climax stillness. Your every breath, previously ragged and feverish, now felt conscious, almost an intrusion into the renewed silence. Your own temples throbbed with a slower rhythm, a reverberating echo of the tempest that had raged within you.

Nam-gyu, who moments before had been a hurricane of urgency, now manifested as a heavy, inert presence at your back. His head, previously a yoke on your shoulder, had sunk deeper, his hot, damp skin pressed against yours. His hands, which had been the engine of unprecedented ferocity, now rested loosely on your waist, fingers barely brushing your skin, with a strange delicacy, as if the last vestige of his vigor had vanished with the release. This vulnerability, this unexpected stillness in a man accustomed to excessive cruelty, disoriented you. It was an image that completely defied the Nam-gyu you knew, the inclement and merciless one.

An unexpected pang of something bordering on compassion, an emotion so discordant in the symphony of resentment that defined your relationship, shot through your chest. Was it genuine, or just a trick of your mind to process the twisted connection that had just been forged? Then, without the slightest whisper, without any preamble, Nam-gyu moved. It was a slow, laborious shift, as if every fiber of his being weighed a ton. He lifted his head from your shoulder, his face still elusive to your gaze, tilted forward. Your muscles tensed instinctively, anticipating an explosive reaction, a return to his usual ferocity, but there was nothing. Only a faint gasp, almost a sigh of existential relief, escaped his cracked lips.

With exasperating slowness, his right hand, still trembling from the aftershocks of his imperious need, reached out towards the floor. Your eyes followed his every movement, hypnotized by the impending expectation. His calloused, gnarled fingers gripped the cross necklace you had dropped earlier. It was a strangely delicate, almost reverent gesture, heartbreakingly contrasting with the usual brusqueness of his demeanor. The small silver object, polished and cold, now rested in the palm of his hand. And then, with a precision that seemed impossible given his state of exhaustion, Nam-gyu opened it wide. A faint metallic click, tiny but resonant, broke the suffocating silence, an almost inaudible sound that, nevertheless, exploded like thunder in the claustrophobic stillness of the cubicle. The cross opened, revealing a small hidden compartment inside, a guarded secret.

From that minuscule space, with the tip of a finger that still trembled with an uncontrollable spasm, he extracted a small, pink, round pill, barely larger than your thumbnail. Nam-gyu brought the pill to his lips with astonishing speed, almost impulsively, as if the air itself could steal that precious treasure. He placed it on his tongue and, with a dry, visibly forced gulp, swallowed it. The entire process was a mechanical choreography, a silent, desperate, almost sacred ritual. He never looked at you. His eyes remained fixed on an invisible point, his jaw clenched, his expression indecipherable, a mask of concentration and a primal need that consumed him. It was as if the act of ingesting the pill was so intimate, so shameful, so revealing, that he couldn't bear the nakedness of your gaze.

His body began to imperceptibly relax, the trembling diminishing, his breathing becoming more paused, less ragged. It was the effect of the drug, flowing through his veins, placating the inner beast that devoured him. The bile stench became less pronounced, the sweat, less acrid, less invasive.

The biting irony of the situation struck you with almost physical force. This man, who had crawled to your body, humiliated and pleading, now found his peace, his ephemeral redemption, not in the carnal act he had just shared with you, but in a small pill hidden in a crucifix. You were merely a means, a momentary vehicle for his desperation, a fleeting stop on his tortuous and self-destructive path to the next dose. The power you had believed you grasped dissolved like sugar in water, revealing the bitter truth. You were just a part of his vicious cycle, an insignificant fragment in his incessant torment.

Nam-gyu moved away from you slowly, an almost imperceptible movement at first, as if the forced cohesion between your bodies vanished with the same slowness with which it had arisen. He straightened with visible effort, his shoulders still hunched from fatigue and the heavy hangover of his agony. Finally, he looked at you. His eyes, previously bloodshot and feverish with wild desire, were now slightly veiled, a hint of icy calm settling in their murky depths. But there was no hint of shame, no shadow of regret. Only a distant coldness, an abyssal distance that erected an insurmountable wall between you.

──Now leave,── his voice snapped, still rough, but devoid of the desperation, the gasping, the lament that had characterized it moments before. It was the Nam-gyu you knew, the tyrant, returning from the depths of his most abject weakness. ──And... Don't say a fucking word.── His gaze hardened, becoming a silent, palpable threat that weighed in the stale air. The forced intimacy, the shared abyss, vanished, replaced by the impregnable wall of usual hostility and contempt. The facade of vulnerability had crumbled, revealing the monster once more.

He left you alone in the cubicle, enveloped in the lingering stench of his sweat, with the metallic taste of blood in your mouth, a persistent ghost of the transgression. The metal door, which had been your anchor and your torment, remained open, a silent exit to the raw, relentless reality. The perverse victory you had felt had completely evaporated, leaving an icy void, a sense of raw manipulation, of having been used. Nam-gyu had gotten what he needed, his dose, his brief and selfish escape, and you were just an insignificant detail in his ritual of self-destruction. You realized, with an icy pang that pierced your soul, that in that shared abyss, only one of you had found an ephemeral relief. And it wasn't you.

#namgyu x reader #squid game x you #namgyu smut #squid game x reader #player 124 x reader #squid game player 124 #squid game nam gyu #squid game smut #squid game #squid game fanfic

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twicehaneul · 11 hours ago

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Something Like Healing

May 20, 2018 Gyeongju

pairing: choi seungcheol x twice added member' oc

genre: fluff, slow burn, acquaintances to friends to lovers

warnings: fluff, slightly angst, mentions of breakup (not between main characters) choi seungcheol being a truly gentleman!!!

please let me know if you want to be part of the taglist! enjoy the chapter

The early afternoon sunlight filtered through translucent curtains of that little-known coffee shop, spilling soft light across warm wooden tables scattered with half-melted iced americanos, and crumpled napkins stained with chocolate croissant crumbs. Outside, the wind stirred gently, coaxing cherry blossoms from their branches. The petals floated down like confetti, catching in the curls of passersby and settling into the grooves of the sidewalk. Spring was painting the world in soft pinks and quiet promises.

Inside, everything was hushed — low jazz humming through the speakers, baristas clinking cups in practiced rhythm, the occasional door chime marking the entrance of another regular. It was the kind of place people disappeared into, tucked away from the hum of the city. A place where time moved slower.

Haneul sat in the corner, curled up on a bench seat by the window, her knees drawn up slightly as she cradled her drink. Across from her, Seungcheol slouched in a worn wooden chair, black cap pulled low over his eyes, phone resting idle in one hand as he scrolled aimlessly — not really reading, not really looking.

They had been there for almost an hour. Talking, then not. Laughing, then falling into silence again. It wasn’t awkward — not between them. There was something about their rhythm that made space feel full even when words were scarce.

Seungcheol had made her laugh earlier — a real, breathy kind of laugh — when he started dramatically lip-syncing to a sad ballad only for the playlist to jump straight into a blaring metal track. He’d clutched his heart like he’d been betrayed by the universe, and she'd nearly choked on her drink.

Now, though, the energy had shifted. Gently. Imperceptibly. Like a cloud sliding across the sun.

Haneul’s gaze drifted to the window again, watching the petals scatter across the sidewalk. It felt like watching something fall apart in slow motion — quiet, almost beautiful.

She barely noticed how long she’d been staring until his voice pulled her back.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

She turned, blinking. “What thing?”

He tilted his head, a half-frown pulling at his lips. “That look you get when you’re here, but your mind’s off somewhere else.”

She forced a small smile. “Was I that obvious?”

“Only to me,” he said simply.

That made her pause. She looked down at her drink, thumb brushing across the condensation. “Just thinking.”

He leaned forward slightly. “Heavy stuff?”

She hesitated. Her first instinct was to brush it off, to joke like she always did when something started pressing too close to the wound. But the look on his face — steady, open, quiet — made it harder to hide.

“Some days I think I’m okay,” she said finally. “And then out of nowhere, it just… hits. Like I’m back at the beginning again.”

Seungcheol didn’t speak right away. Instead, he nodded, as if acknowledging something unspoken. “Yeah. Like you’ve made progress, but then one small thing — a song, a smell, a memory — and it feels like nothing’s healed at all.”

Her throat tightened. “Exactly.”

He sat back, sighing. “Heart stuff doesn’t follow a calendar, Haneul. It’s not like your mind decides to be over it and your heart just obeys.”

That made her smile, small but real. “When did you get so wise?”

“Remember that i live with Minghao, right?”

That made her laugh “Right”

They sat in silence for a moment, the kind that didn’t press. But something in her stirred — a question she’d never asked,

She looked up at him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How did you know?” she said quietly. “About the breakup. I never told you.”

Seungcheol blinked, caught off guard. Then he let out a breath, one corner of his mouth tugging up.

“Ah… right. That.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t tell me a little bird told you”

He looked sheepish. “Okay, don’t get mad, but… it was Dokyeom.”

She groaned, already sinking lower in her seat. “Of course it was.”

“He didn’t mean to!” Seungcheol said quickly, laughing. “We were just hanging out, and he mentioned you’d been crying a lot and that you deleted all your couple photos. And then he froze. Like completely panicked. You could see the regret hit him in real time.”

“That little snitch,” she muttered under her breath, but her lips twitched.

“He felt really bad,” Seungcheol added. “Swore me to secrecy. Guess I broke that part.”

She sighed dramatically. “The man has the discretion of a golden retriever.”

“Hey, be nice,” he chuckled. “He meant well.”

“His heart’s in the right place,” she said dryly. “His mouth, however…”

They both laughed again — quiet, warm, a release of something heavier. And when it faded, that gentleness in his expression remained. It made her feel like breathing was a little easier.

“I’m not used to... this,” she admitted after a beat. “Someone sticking around even when I’m a mess.”

“Well,” Seungcheol said, reaching across the table with his palm up, “get used to it.”

She stared at his hand for a second. Then slowly placed hers in his.

The warmth was immediate. Not just from his skin, but from the quiet promise behind the gesture — patient, grounding, real. His thumb brushed across her knuckles once, twice, like a rhythm meant to calm storms.

They sat like that for a while. The café continued around them — cups clinking, orders being called, soft chatter rising and falling — but the space between them stayed still. Whole.

“You don’t have to be okay all the time,” he said gently, voice low. “Not with me.”

She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “I’m trying.”

“I know.” His thumb paused, pressed gently. “That’s why I’ll keep showing up. Even when you don’t ask. Even when you don’t know if you want company.”

Her fingers tightened around his. “That’s scary,” she whispered.

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Because it feels safe,” she said. “And I forgot what that felt like.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened. He tugged her hand slightly, as if to draw her attention back to him fully.

“I’m not going anywhere, Haneul. Not unless you ask me to.”

She met his eyes. And for the first time in months, the weight on her chest shifted — not gone, not forgotten, but lighter somehow.

“Thank you, Cheollie” she whispered.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just smiled, soft and real. “Anytime, Hannie” he murmured.

And somehow, in that little café tucked between cherry-blossomed streets, with hands resting between half-finished drinks and scattered napkins, Haneul let herself breathe. Finally

Spring had returned. And with it, maybe, so had she.

finally i'm back, sorry for the delay! i had my university partials and i took a lot of my free time, besides i feel so stressed and exhausted that i couldn't even think about a good chapter!

Currently, i'm studying for some exams that i have next week, but i could make time for the update!!

THANK YOU FOR THE PATIENCE AND SUPPORT!

taglist: @ateez-atiny380 @cherrylovescheol : this chapter is for you two that always are there!

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xenooa · 2 days ago

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𔔀 ꉂ 🥼 ¡ ‧20s𝀛 !

₍. ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𒀭࣪ ⋆ 🌫️

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angelicjoy8 · 1 day ago

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⠀ 𝅄 🌸 ᤻֗ sweet like ࣪ ‌ ࣭❕𓏸 ۪ ۪

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ︵ 𓆩 ♡̶ ׇ ๋ perfume 🎀༘⋆ 𑁯 ۫ ݂ っ

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀perfume by perfume ◞♡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ₊ ⁺ ⊹ ⋆ ₊ ˚ ⊹ . ᰔ

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northopalshore · 11 hours ago

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Rising signs in the

Briede persona chart

Briede (19029). This asteroid refers to the "wife". I'm going to focus more into your life in the future, not the immediate aftermath of marriage. However, you will start to see the changes, appear directly as well most just take time to develop or settle in. This post applies to both you as a bride & your wife for those interested in women.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋��₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

northopalshores' masterlist| briede persona chart masterlist

post includes section i.signs & degrees, ii.planets

♡ please do not plagiarize my content without credit & consent ʕ⁠ ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔฅ🔉

Signs & degrees

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

💍 Aries (°1,°13,°25)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You are the protective mom/wife. This will make you bolder after marriage, and more confrontational. You will not hesitate in fighting your way, to defend yourself and protect your opinions most of all. This can make you seem quite "loud" and prone to outbursts. Marriage could test you a lot; especially your patience. From what I've seen, having this placement can cause/ mean that you will have at least one very noticeable/significant argument in your marriage. It's not always a sign of doom for your marriage, don't worry but I can't say it won't be easy either. If you have it in the degree, the sign & planets in the 1st house will tell you more about it and vice versa.

Ex 1: Audrey Hepburn Had Capricorn (°1 Aries) rising with a Stellium in there (Moon, Saturn, Lilith, Mercury & Mars). She had many arguments and internal struggles with her ex husbands which subsequently led to their divorce.

Ex 2: Cardi B has Scorpio rising (°25 Aries). For her, the problem was infidelity & trust issues. Which was quite evident online & in her music.

༄*ੈYour wife: She could be quite active physically and that may show up in her physical attributes (quite fit). She is very fierce and independent. Meaning she has a strong presence wherever she goes. She is also very physically attractive, persuasive, but stubborn as hell. They may have an athletic build or are naturally fit or lean. She may tan or have darker features, but one thing for certain is that she is fighter lmao. Her eyes are usually sharper or smaller too or almond shape, cat eye/ positive cantal tilt? That's not something I expected to say lmao but let's gaurr. She can get quite irritated easily with a personality or looks that bite!

💍 Taurus (°2,°14,°26)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: As a wife, you will adopt a more feminine yet stubborn personality. You will have a very sound presence, and act as the homemaker keeping everyone in check. You can be quite shy and reserved and a little awkward after marriage as well but people around you will generally view you as kind, friendly and thoughtful. You could place a lot of importance into your looks or how you are perceived but wives with this placement are always seen as pretty & wife-like if that makes sense! Being a wife will suit your image a lot.

Ex: Lisa has a Taurus rising in her Briede pc. I think you can see that play out exactly the way you'd expect lmao. Very cute!

༄*ੈYour wife: Your wife is naturally a féminine & down-to-earth person. She is pleasant to be around and takes good care of her appreances. She has the taste for the finer things when it comes to her aesthetic, but she isn't inherently a show off. Something about her just feels like a wife to others. She's beautiful and strong-willed. People tend to like her, but she may be a bit slow to pick things up. 9 times out of 10 looks awkward and unsure what to do in public situations. Makeup on point! A lover of all things cute and feminine.

💍 Gemini (°3,°15,°27)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: This is the smart wife placement. You are likely the leader of the house whether your spouse realizes it or not; as you do a lot of things for your home and family keeping tabs on your children & spouse and making sure everything is functioning properly. You will not be shy to express yourself through your facial expressions i.e your reactions will have their own set of subtitles lol! Furthermore, you may also adopt a chattier personality which honestly is so mom-like to me.

༄*ੈYour wife: Your wife is intelligent. There is likely very few things that you are able to hide from her. She may have a tendency to gossip or listen to world of mouth a bit too much but she is very fun to be around. You will never be bored around her. Their skin is usually "alive" and just looks vitalizing, glowing. They look very youthful regardless of their age due to their animated features. Their face has subtitles i.e it's impossible to hide what they feel.

💍 Cancer (°4,°16,°28)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You act sweeter after marriage, more susceptible to emotional situations i.e cry a lot, is easier to be moved after marriage. Your presence brings a lot of contentment to those around you. You are also going to be more expressive and sensitive; you could sulk more often for example. People around you will find you easy to connect with are are very friendly and genuine. As you get older, you will be the mom friend that everybody loves. You are quite the peacemaker as well.

༄*ੈYour wife: She may have very cubby cheeks and rounded features. She is very soft-spoken, looks rather fragile and dainty but also.. fluffy? She is sensitive to your environment and people’s moods and very in tune with those around her. Her facial expressions give away her feelings, and she may also have noticably big eyes. She looks kind and almost child-like. She can seem quite reserved or reluctant at first but is very expressive once she trusts you.

💍 Leo (°5,°17,°29)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You may be more confident after marriage, people will look up to you and admire you more. You may be more sociable and experimental! You may be secret leader of the household, the type of wife to growl at their partner and have them by the leash. People could say "you look happier" a lot as well. You may get a sort of glow up after marriage as well. People may also refer to you as the "hot wife" lmao. You would do anything and everything to keep your family and private life protected despite being or looking very appealing.

Ex: Megan Fox has a Leo rising ° 6 Virgo in her Briede persona chart. She definitely for the most part tried to keep her mariage life private, but when she does share you can see that she is completely serious & devoted to her spouse(s).

༄*ੈYour wife: Your wife is a natural beauty, a natural star regardless of who she is she shines and she knows it. She has a natural attractiveness to her whether it comes from her eyes, her hair or her lovely personality, you can tell that she is genuinely who she is even if it seems theatrical at times. She may have a Hollywood -esque look to her i.e full lips, wide doll like eyes and barbie figure. With beautiful skin that gleams with life. She is likely to be a sucker for old times romances or courting too.

💍 Virgo (°6,°18)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You may become more reserved as a result of marriage. Rethinking how you act and appear to others often. This is usually the time you decide to shape your shit up and take care of yourself better, assuming a more organized appearance and mannerism. You may be meaner or tougher to crack than before (who you were when you were younger). Now wanting to be someone dependable and realistic. This is what I expect to show up in strict Asian mom charts lol. It doesn't mean they were always like that. On the flip side you may find yourself questioning your own actions (as well as that of those around you) more. People may literally depend on you more as well.

༄*ੈYour wife: She is likely quite petite or short (or at least noticably shorter than you unless there are contradicting placement that say otherwise) and has a calculating personality. She looks very clean and put together and seems to know what she's doing even if she doesn't. She is likely quite timid or introverted as well. She could have light- medium to pale skin and even if they are abundant in melanin. She just looks like she has been have been raised well. Eyes sharp and full of doubt/judgement/anticipation. Hard on others but harder on herself self. She can be rather demanding at times.

💍 Libra (°7,°19)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You may have a glow up as well after marriage, people saying you look so good married i.e you are well groomed and welll loved. You might have had more time to care for your looks after marriage, or felt like you needed a little pick me up to remind yourself you got this in the bag. Marriage feels very natural to you, and you seem to really thrive in it which other people will very much notice! You are very attentive to your spouse and yourself, supportive and understanding. You may seem more put together/well mannered as well. People will find you likeable and friendly. You may be quite popular to be around amongst those around you.

༄*ੈYour wife: She may have quite the "trad wife" look to her, beautiful and well mannered, someone with a clear elegance and status to her even if they come from a humble background. Her makeup and clothes are usually very classy and timeless looking, and feminine. That being said she's not going to do your bidding without equal love and exchange. Her mood and patience is usually very pleasant. She takes good care of herself ; mind body and soul and it shows. She is your advisor and right hand person that will take the shot if you don't.

💍 Scorpio (°8,°20)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You are likely to be more private or elusive after marriage. You do not open up as easily as you may have before and a lot of the times may as well leave the person you were before. You may be more intense , curious or suspicious of things. Marriage will try to change you, on one hand this could be good for self growth and maturity but then to some you may feel constricted and forced into conformity. It's not always bad however, but it is quite the transformative placement to have.

Ex: Miley Cyrus has a Scorpio rising here (granted she also has Pluto in the 1st so for her it's twice— nah 4× as intense and hurtful when her ex husband seem to had a distaste for certain parts of her. To her, it may have felt like every part of her was denied love and understanding). She is a rebellious lover that deserves love, in her own way.

༄*ੈYour wife: She can be quite the scary woman. With alternative styles or a very brooding presence. She may have a tendency, or look like someone who is vindictive and distrustful of the things and people around her. She is very protective of herself and the people she loves as they are the extension of her. Eyes are piercing and cautious, but can look uninterested as well. There is usually some sort of contrast evident on their person (hair vs skin color etc). Can be quite rude to some degree but will stick with you through thick & thin.

💍 Sagittarius (°9,°21)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You may be more adventurous and open mindeu after marriage, choosing the simpler way of interpreting things around you, trying to take in more of the abundance and opportunities that life has to offer. You may be the "cool" mom or partner that feels almost like a friend. You are likely to be more relaxed as well as a result of that acceptance towards something in your life. Being wise and learning from your past mistakes. You could spend a lot more times outdoors exploring hobbies too.

༄*ੈYour wife: Your wife is contemplative, heartfelt and humourous but at the same time a genuine mind freak. She has a heart as big as her brain but plays it cool and natural. She is very curious but in a more spontaneous way, always down for a new challenge or fun time. A beauty in her own right and often someone that propels some sort of action or movement. She speaks her mind when she has to, advocating her love and beliefs, often is the one to extend advice to others as well even if it seems to come out of nowhere. Those are words of wisdom baby, take it in.

💍 Capricorn (°10,°22)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You will adopt a more reserved personality, likely handling almost every responsibility in the household. You are the true "woman of the house" as you will always have the last say in what happeneds around you. You may be rather strict and hardworking even after marriage and your professional life may still be your priority; even though you are present with your partner & children. You may spend a lot of time working or taking care of others i.e your family members. Usually, the first born woman of the family has Capricorn rising here, a lot of responsibility is placed into you, girl bossing, even if it gets tough.

༄*ੈYour wife: Your wife is rather intimidating to some, but they are a very dedicated and caring person in all actuality. They are very attractive, and have striking features that give them that bold & powerful look in the first place. They may be rather pale and slender as well. May have a dead look to her, seems uninterested in 70% of any conversation or agenda. She is however, high achieving, smart and supportive of "the right way"i.e her way. Equally loyal, equally independent and resourceful.

💍 Aquarius (°11,°23)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You may act more off than you usually would after marriage. Your marriage gives you the freedom to be the person you are or what to be. You bring a fresh, forward-thinking energy to marriage, and your partner needs to appreciate your uniqueness, ideas, and need for freedom. It's not all fun and games since there may be a sense of purpose that you aquire after marriage. A desire to learn and understanding things on a grander scale, thinking more about the cause and effects despite the unserious nature of your personality. You will likely have an unconventional role in the marriage i.e you aren't likely to be the cook or the designated home keeper.

༄*ੈYour wife: She is quite tall, and naturally quite slender. She tends to have a more androgynous look even if she identifies as a woman completely. She has a bad girl attitude and charismatic look to her. She can act rather .. eccentric at times but that doesn't negate her genius side. She has the ability to attract both genders her way, while simultaneously be the strangest person you'll ever encounter. A stand out wherever she stands or exists, it may be their clothes or their looks and even how the verbalize their thoughts. Usually very smart and retortive too.

💍 Pisces (°12,°24)

༄*ੈYou as a wife: You will be quite calm after marriage, adopting a more go with the flow attitude towards life. You may be quiet but still sociable and very invested in the lives of those around you (especially your own family members). You may stick with them more after marriage; staying close to your mother or your parents in law. You can even embrace the more creative side of you after marriage. You may spend more time daydreaming as well.

༄*ੈYour wife: She is a very sweet and benevolent person. People tend to like her a lot wherever she goes though she isn't one to start most conversations. She has very soft features and has a gentleness to her that shines the most. She can be quite sensitive and intune with her surroundings or always seem to be in her own thoughts. Very friendly and thoughtful as well. Could gain weight easily too. She may be on the paler or greyer (?) side. At times, it may seem like she's not really there or on autopilot.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

Planets

In retrograde? May have been evident prior to marriage, or that part of her/you is more manageable or left as an internal struggle within her/you. Adds a more reflective aspects to the placement as well.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

🪷 Sun

Pleasant to be around, but can be rather self serving depending on the sign or degree it's in. Brings out that leader within you/her. Can result in more masculinity and "I wear the pants" energy.

🪷 Moon

May gain weight easily, but also loose it according to the mood. Rounder features especially the face. A bit of a tsundere. Being moody and unpredictable. Very intuitive but at the same time a walking contradiction. Very intuitive, animated expressions, emotional. Super supportive but requires equal support to function. Greyish undertones.

🪷 Venus

Noticable beauty, grace and even glow up (if referring to you as a wife). Natural people person and may attract many female friends after marriage. I see a lot of wives that surround themselves with women have this placement.

🪷 Mercury

Witty, intelligent, quick and funny. Expressions are turned up to the max! May be quite contemplative and anxious to some degree. People talk about you/her more/a lot. Love to spread gossip/listen to it.

🪷 Mars

The leader of the relationship, very independent but can be rather combative through that reassuring front. The "I'll handle everything, what do you need?" Person. Assume much responsibility and authority over your/her partner. Marriage can bring out the more agressive and competitive part of you (if referring to you as a wife). Marriage will not make you dependant or passive!

🪷 Saturn

Can look quite strict or older and adopt a more serious personality after marriage. Adds structure to both the face and lives, can be more mature after marriage or be a bit of a wet towel (though it not necessarily a bad thing). May feel a bit restrictied in marriage, or embody that need for structure later on. Someone others rely on, a lot of weight may be out on your shoulders.

🪷 Jupiter

Can make you/her very popular after marriage (or naturally attractive from the way you/she presents and expresses herself/yourself). Very pretty and funny/entertaining to be around. Marriage life can be quite blessed as well due to that agreeable and lucky nature. You'll likely have more friends or spend a lot of time on yourself as well. Feeling more confident and in charge.

🪷 Neptune

Softer, romantic and stylish looking. Can seem very tired or sleepy a lot. Very romantic but private and reclusive. Can switch personalities like your clothing rotation throughout the seasons. Very approachable but misleading. Reflects the energy of those around them. Very sensitive & sweet.

🪷 Uranus

Can juxtapose the initial sign it's in. Will make her/you a very independent person with very unconventional quirks. You may be left to your own advices after marriage i.e you can do what you want when you want, though if it's in Aries or naturally rebellious signs it may mean you'll be more attentive to those around you , focusing that energy to other people, internalized certain things. Defying expectations of what a wife should look like. Can be quite tall and slender.

🪷 Pluto

Can be spiteful, sexual, confident and rebellious but may feel constant pressure and burden from other people. Personality will be tested and brought through the fire. Can seem spiteful, selfish and mean to some. Marriage may bring out the worst in you (for some in regards to you as a wife).

🪷 Chiron

May be quite anxious, and stressed or insecure about how they look. May have been pressured into becoming someone they didn't want to be or feel like you/she doesn't fit the bill when it comes to the idea of a woman/wife. May have been told they look bad or should have something to feel shame about in the past. Though it can also means finally releasing the inhibitions that once consume them/you, finding strength, being a natural healer and compassionate lover/person. May literally be a healer. Can look rather tired a lot of the time.

🪷 Lilith

Some may find you/her too independent to be held down in marriage. You break the norm of what a wife is supposed to look like i.e independent, successful, likely the one to lead the relationship and have power over the spouse (especially if the spouse in question is male). Good luck buddy. She'll have you on a leash lmao. She is/you will be THE WOMAN of the house. Trouble can come from outsiders judging, you Lilith does not care, no ma'am! Very attractive, looks great in black!

˚₊‧꒰ა paid readings available ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

@northopalshore

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svt-ara · 2 days ago

Text

⋆｡𖦹°‧𓂅 CONSEQUENCES

synopsis࣪ › ara attends day1 of the hxw concert to support her bandmates— but her boyfriend's bold performance sparks something sharper than pride, and far more personal.

ᯓ★ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦/𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡 estabilished relationship, public teasing, jealousy, possessivenes (barely disguised), suggestive content (making out), physical touch, flirty, emotionally constipated but whipped behavior, ara being 3 steps ahead always | ๋⸝⸝⸝⸝ 𝗪𝗖 6.7k | ๋⸝⸝⸝⸝ 𝗔𝗡 the whole concert was INSANE, bc wdym woozi played ruby with the eletric guitar IM SO JELOUS OF WHO GOT TO SEE THAT LIVE 😩 so yeah i had no choice but to write about it ofc 🤭 i have no idea of what the banner joy is holding in the photo means so don't mind do it lol, and sorry for the awful quality of the hoshi's photo 🙏🏻 i'm considering if i should do fan's reaction for this one lmk. kinda nervous to post this lol, feels like the dino one did well and I’m not sure this one’s gonna live up to it 😔 that's why it took longer that i thought, i just kept writing and delelting things because i wasn't satisfied, i'm really sorry 😭 anyw i need help beacuse i don't know what to write next, i had in mind hybe cateres i'm not really sure tho, if you have smt in mind you can suggest me ! proofread

AND thank you for the 208 followers, not alot but still 💕

NOW I CAN STFU, ENJOY!

ⓘ masterlist, writings masterlist

the café was small, tucked between two flowers shop, quiet enough that the sound of the ice cubes in her iced americano clinking against the glass felt loud. just as she liked— hidden, quiet, almost forgotten by the world. in places like this, the chances of getting recognized or disturbed were lower. never zero, but low enough to make her feel safer, more comfortable.

the late afternoon light spilled through the windows blinds, painting soft lines on the wooden table in front of her. her fingers traced one absentmindedly out of habit, while she sipped the cold drink in her hand ever so often. the chair across from her was still empty— it wasn't wonwoo's fault, he wasn't late. she had just arrived too early on prupose, just to let her thoughts run a little.

outside the city moved at its usual, frenetic, rhythm— cars passing, few dogs occasionally barking. a buzz of life that felt far away from the stillness from the cafè, where everything was wrapped in low music and the faint hum of the air conditioner above her head.

until the bell above the door rang, the noise of the city seeped through for a moment— footsteps, motorcycle engines, chatter. she glanced up instinctively, and there he was.

wonwoo stepped inside, just as casual she remembered— hat lower over his eyes, his usual round glasses, one hand in jeans pocket while the other pushed the door shut behind him. he scanned the cafè quickly, like muscle memory, and then immediately spotted ara.

he waved at her, quickly making his way toward her. "you're early" he said, sliding into the chair across from her. "i like pretending i have patience" she replied, taking another sip of her drink. he huffed a soft laugh, glancing at her glass, slightly frowing his eyebrows. "is that your second?" he pointed at it.

"no" ara said, but when wonwoo looked at her with a knowing gaze, she added "maybe". he chuckled, leaning back and taking off his cap for a moment to run a hand through his shorter hair. it really suited him— simple and clean. he looked healtier than she expected, like he was well-rested.

"military didn't ruin you" she said casually, after glacing at him for a moment. "not yet" he said, "give it time" the corner of her lips lifted, and a comfortable silence settled between them for a second. "i ordered nothing for you" she added, still sipping her americano.

"i totally expected that" he chuckled low, reaching for the menu card that had been sitting forgotten in the center of the table. the way he held it with one hand, lazily flipping throught the pages without really reading anything, made it obvious he wasn't planning on ordering much. she watched him with a faint smile, chin resting in her palm, and then spoke.

"you still pretend to care about the menu everytime" she said, barely holding a smile. "it's a ritual, i skim it and then order a coffee".

"you're very predictable" she said, sipping once more after. "i'm very consistent" he corrected, glancing up at her long enough to raise one brow.

ara leaned back to her seat, the wooden chair creaking slightly as her arm dropped to her lap. her eyes followed the movements of the people outside the tall window for a moment. "you know the concert's going to be insane, right?" she asked eventually, turning back to him.

he closed the menu without picking anything, fingers drumming against the table before setting it down. "they know you're coming, right?" he asked, almost offhandedly. ara raised an eyebrow, "would it matter if they didn't?" wonwoo let out a short breath of a laugh.

"they'd probably spot you mid set and call you out anyway" she smiled, leaning back, "that's what i'm afraid of, it'd be embarassing in front of the audience"

"it's part of the deal" he said, tilting his head slightly, "you show up, you get harassed in front of thousands of people" he shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "sounds very professional" ara muttered, but there was no real complaint in her voice. just quiet amusement.

she picked up her drink again, letting the cold glass rest against her cheek for a second. "hoshi's probably already planning something". wonwoo smiled before answering "he's been weirdly excited" he confirmed. "i think he wants you to see his new solo live".

"i've seen him hundred times" she scoffed, slightly frowing, feeling something off, like he might already know. "yeah" he said, "but this one is different" ara narrowed her eyes, catching the tone immediately. "what do you mean by different?"

wonwoo leaned foward just slightly, elbows resting on the table. "hoshi doing his best to be memorable" lips curling into the faintest smile— that kind that told her absolutely nothing and everything at the same time. she tried to read his expression, but he was calm as ever— too calm. that kind of calm that meant he was enjoying this way too much.

"you're not telling me something" ara tilted her head, squeezing her eyes, but still got nothing from him. "i'm letting you discover it on your own" he said, already standing up. "way more entertaining that way".

"wait, youre ordering nothing?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "wonwoo? we're already going?" ara asked once more as he didn't reply. he was already halfway out of his chair, adjusting the strap of his cap with one hand. "you finished your drink" he stated.

"that doesn't mean i'm emotionally ready to leave" she mumbled, holding her iced cup like it might save her. he leaned slightly toward her, resting a hand on the table in front of them. "it's not like you're walking on stage"

she stared at him for a beat, "am i not, though. emotionally?". wonwoo let out a soft laugh, stepping back. "come on, if you survive you can enjoy him"

"big if" ara muttered, grabbing her bag reclutanly as she stood up, following him out.

the car ride was quiet, one of those conforting silences that didn't need to be filled. the city drifted by outside the windows, sun pointing everything in a soft gold glow, the late afternoon heat still clinging to the pavement. ara had rolled her windows halfway down, letting the breeze play with the strands of hair near her face. it didn't help much with the heat, but at least it gave her something to focus on.

she glanced over at wonwoo, who was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the radio controls— like he had considered music, but hadn't quiet decided yet.

"so" she started, voice casual, "you're really not going to tell me what happens in his solo stage?" wonwoo didn't look away from the road, "nope". she blinked, "not even a hint?" she tried again.

"i already gave you a hint" he said, barely suppressing a smirk. "you gave me a threat" she replied flatly, turning to fully face him now. "there's a difference" he chuckled softly, shifting in his seat like he was enjoying her mild frustration. his gaze stayed ahead, but the smug energy was unmistakable.

ara sighed, letting her head fall back against her seat. "i should've brought glasses" she said, her gaze now back to the view outside the window. "for the lights?" wonwoo asked curiously.

"for the judging looks i'm going to give him from the crowd" that made him laugh— a short, low sound that filled the space between them. "you don't have to worry so much" he said, more gently this time. "i'm sure he's excited you'll be there"

her fingers stilled against the edge of the open window. the wind caught a piece of her hair and tossed it across her cheek, but she didn't brush it away. just kept looking out, watching the skyline give way to a wider stretched of road.

"i know" she said softly, the smallest smile tugging at her lips. "that's what makes it worse"

the car slowed as it approached the venue, the cityscape giving way to crowds that pulsed like a living organism. the sun was dripping low, casting low shadows and bathing everything in a warm, amber light. ara's fingers tapped lightly against the dashboard, her gaze flickering between the window and wonwoo's focused profile behind the wheel.

the car slowed down as they reached the venue, where the streets were already a bit chaotic— fans with banners, prople filming everything, few staff membrs jogging across the entrance.

ara leaned foward slightly trying to catch a glimpse through the wind sheild, "it's already a chaos" she stated, voice a little amused like she wasn't used to big crowds. wonwoo laughed softly, his hand casually drumming against the steering wheel "yeah, it's crazy out there".

she smiled, eyes flicking back to the window, "it feels so different be on the other side" the car slowed down as they approached a side entrance, pulling smoothly into the staff parking area. "the energy is different" wonwoo agreed, glancing at her briefly before focusing back to the road.

a quiet moment settled between them, filled only by the soft hum of distant voices and the occasional cheer from the crowd behind the gates. wonwoo cut the engine and opened his door— ara quietly followed, stepping out into the warm evening air, already wrapped in the buzz of the venue.

she quickly adjusted the edge of her white dress, smoothing out the fabric as a gentle breeze swept through the parking area. the soft rustle of the material was almost drowned out by the distant chatter. she glanced at wonwoo, who was already scanning the surroundings with calm, steady gaze. as their eyes caught into each others, he gave her a small, reassuring nod.

togheter, they started walking toward the entrance, their footsteps light against the concrete, air filled with anticipation that buzzed quietly beneath every sound and shadow.

the door slid open with a low hiss, revealing the bustling backstage area bathed in dim lights. crew members moved swiftly, carrying equipment and exchanging quick words, with muffled beats from the stage vibrate through the walls.

as soon as they turned the corner, ara spotted hoshi frist— pacing back and forth in front of a mirror, humming something under his breath and occasionally checking himself out. woozi was few steps away, hunched over his phone with one earbud in and the usual unreadable expression on his face.

hoshi noticed them frist, his posture easing the moment his eyes landed on them. "you made it" he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into something small and familiar. "of curse we did" she nodded, stepping foward just enough for her voice to carry.

up close, he looked mostly composed. sharp styling, in-ear mic clipped neatly, a little shimmer still dusted across his cheekbone. ara let her eyes linger a second longer "you good?" she asked— voice low, arms crossed under her chest as her eyes scanned him quickly with a faint smile.

hoshi nooded, a crooked grin already forming, "of curse, do i look too cool?" ara scoffed under her breath, her gaze dropping briefly to the mic he was casually spinning between his fingers. "you just look like someone who spent too long in front of the mirror" she smiled widly, locking her eyes with his.

"that's because i did" he replied without hesitation, flashing her a toothy smile. the reply caught ara off guard, and she let out a sudden laugh that made her eyes crinkle. instinctively, her hands reached up, fingers gently squeezed his cheeks in a playful way.

"ya~" hoshi mumbled through puffed-up cheeks, his words barely intelligible but his grin never wavered. "you're so annoying" she said trought a giggle, but the affection in her voice was impossibile to miss. their faces were so close she could feel his breath tickling against her face.

he didn't pull away though— if anything, he leaned into her touch, blinking slowly at her with a mock-offended look that only made her laugh more. her hands lingered a second too long, until the pads of her fingers slowly slipped away— slighty tracing the line of his jaw in the process without even realizing it.

hoshi blinked once, then tilted his head slightly, watching her. "you always do that when i'm trying to look cool" he complained, lips jutting out into a exaggerated pout— his usual brand of mock drama. that was enough to make her eyes roll back.

"exactly" ara shot back, clearly proud of herself. her smile hadn't faded, though it was smaller now— eyes scanning every corner of his face, like she was committing each detail to memory. the shimmer completed the sharp cut of his eyes, the faint crase between his eyebrow, and the way his lips curved without even trying— it made her chest tighten and made her heart fill up like it had too much to hold.

she wanted to kiss those rosey lips so bad, her gaze lingering there for a second to long— but she held back, she had to. the staff still moved in and out of the hallway, reminding her where they are and how visibile they already were just by standing this close.

hoshi tilted his head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly like he caught something— though he didn't push. instead, his voice came out light and casual, "what you're watching?".

ara blinked once, caught off guard. then she scoffed, a slow half-smile creeping onto her lips as she met his eyes "you". hoshi raised a brow, clearly entertained "should i be flattered or concerned?".

ara laughed under her breath, crinkling her nose slightly. her hand lifted, fingers brushing over the fabric near his neck like she needed to focus on something else. "you're fixing things that don't need to be fixed" hoshi pointed out, a teasing lilt in his voice.

"i know" eyes not leaving her hands, a shy grin on her face, "it's something to do with my hands". he watched her for a second longer, head tilted slightly, before leaning in just a little. "you sure it's not just an excuse to touch me?"

ara let out a soft scoff, but didn't pull away. "if i wanted to touch you, i wouldn't need and excuse" that made him grin, wide and toothy, eyes crinckling at the corners. he didn't had time to reply, that she quickly dismissed him. "we'll go, then" fingers finally dropping from his collar.

"make sure to open you eyes wider when it comes to my solo" ara blinked, eyebrows lifting as curiosity crept over her features. "why?" she asked, lips quircking at the edge. but she got nothing from him, just a shrug leaving her more confused than she already was.

the hallway buzzed around them as stagehands hurried past with headsets and clipboards, voices low but urgent. ara adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulders, glancing briefly in the direction her and wonwoo had left. beside her, the boy sipped from a water bottle he'd picked up along the way.

a staff member gestured them foward, pulling back a curtain to let them into the edge of the arena. the sudden shift— from the dim backstage corridors to the open venue— made ara pause for a beat. the light weren't fully down yet, but the buzz in the air was unmistakable. the kind of excitement that sat just below the surface, about to crack open.

they slipped into their seats, low profile but with a clear view of everything. ara crossed one leg over the other, settling comfortably as she glanced to wonwoo. some faces turned as toward them, buzzing with happiness and waving as they recognized them— smile spread quickly throught the crowd.

despite the calm before the show, the warmth of familiarity made the moment feel cozy, like they were part of a secret only a few got to share. until the lights dimmed further and the chatting faded into cheers. a soft spotlight settled on the stage as the frist notes began to play— and not long after, hoshi and woozi appeared.

ara's eyes followed every movement throught every song, leaning back in her chair and gently nodding to the rhythm of the music. the corner of her mouth lifted into a proud smile, sometimes breaking into a quiet laugh at hoshi's casual, and usual, brusts of energy that made the performance so uniquely his.

"he's having too much fun" ara whispered leaning slightly toward wonwoo and nudging his arm with her elbow. "so are you" wonwoo replied, glancing away from the stage just long enough to flash her a shy grin.

"if i wasn't trying to stay lowkey, i'd be screaming my lungs out like them" she added, nodding toward the cheering crowd. the music cut abruptly, a sharp contrast that made the energy in the venue even louder. ara caught, from the corner of her eye, both of them standing at the center of the stage— breathless but still soaking the moment.

hoshi was saying something into the mic, his voice echoing faintly through the venue, but she missed the words. his gaze was now glacing their way, eyes squinting slightly under the light like he was looking for something. then that little tilt of his head and the way his lips curled at the corner— like he'd just spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

"he's going to call us out for sure" wonwoo said, his eyes never leaving the boy in the center of the stage. he squinted slightly leaning foward a bit to take a better look, like he was preparing for whatever thing hoshi was about to say. ara let out a quiet groan, already bracing herself.

and right on cue, the mic picked up hoshi's voice again, mischievous enough to make them both sit up straight. "today we have other special guests" the crowd responded immediatly, loud and curious, already starting to look around.

as the big screen lit up with wonwoo's masked face and ara's shy grin, already expecting the moment, she couldn't help but brust into laughter, quickly covering her face with her hand. the crowd's cheers grew louder, and she felt the quiet wonwoo's chuckle beside her.

they both waved and bowed their head, slightly taken aback the dozens of phones pointed their way, capturing every moment. the sudden spotlight was a bit overwhelming, but their smile stayed genuine.

beside herself, she glanced toward the stage again, where hoshi's mischievous smile was unmistakable, like he was enjoying every second of the little chaos he stirred up.

"wonwoo can you sing to 99.9%?" woozi asked with a teasing smile, quickly followed by hoshi adding fuel "ara, can you dance to yours? show us" he laughed, knowing he said something he should've not say.

ara's eyes widened in mock horror as she quickly shook her head, her hands fluttering in the air. "anyia anyia" she repeated, even if it was impossibile to be heard. wonwoo laughed softly beside her, eyes sparkling with amusement at her exaggerated reaction.

"they're both from '96, loyal people" hoshi added with a smirk, before smoothly moving on the next part of the show. ara turned to wonwoo with a sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. "he just revealed my solo has a choreography" wonwoo chuckled, barely able to hold back his grin "when were you planning to say that?" he asked, nudging her lightly with his elbow.

"never, it was supposted to be a surprise" she gave him a look, somewhere between amused and exasperated. "well, not anymore" he said chuckling, clearly enjoying himself.

ara sighed, dramatic but not annoyed, and turned back toward the stage— just as the frist notes of damage hit. her posture shifted instinctively, eyes narrowing with anticipation as the light deepened and the bass kicked in. she could feel wonwoo eyes briefly lingering on her, a soft smile of anticipation lingering on his lips, but she fully ignored him— she wanted to see what he had prepared.

hoshi moved with sharp precision, all confidence and control, his body craving every count like it belonged to him. ara had seen him performing thousand times— on screen, in rehearsal, even just messing around in the pratice room— but every time he was magnetic, like some kind of magnets were on him and attracted her eyes.

she watched as dancers' moved across his face— fingers brushing his cheek, trailing along his jaw, just like she had moments ago backstage. her eyes narrowed a little, lips pressing togheter.

she couldn't quiet say anything, she didn't even had the time to full gather her breath, because hoshi clearly had other plans— his face got dangerously close to the back up dancer, her fingers brushing againist his jaw as the crowd gasped in excitement.

ara's brows raised— amusement and disbelief warring on her face. she let out a quick, nervous laugh, clapping her hands once before turning to wonwoo wide eyes. "he's a funny guy, really" her voice was a little too high, too fast. wonwoo tilted his head, lips twiching into a knowing smile, "is that what we're calling it?"

her eyes darted back to the stage, waving him off like it was nothing "performance value" she added, shrugging her shoulders. "you know, he's committed" wonwoo hummed, not convinced.

ara crossed her arms, sinking a little deeper into her seat as the lights flared and the choreography moved on, shifting away from the flirtatious moment—but not quite fast enough to erase the flush still lingering on her cheeks.

she tried to play it cool, nodding along to the beat again like nothing had happened. like her heart hadn’t jumped, like she hadn’t just watched someone who she'd die for lean in that close to someone else on stage.

beside her, wonwoo sipped his water with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, eyes still fixed ahead. "you sure you're not going to scream now?" he asked, voice low, teasing.

ara didn't even look at him—just nudged his leg with her knee. "i am screaming," she muttered under her breath, "just internally". wonwoo chuckled. "well, at least you're not throwing things".

"no promises" she replied dryly, then turned her full attention back to the stage, just in time for hoshi's smirk to flash across the big screen. he definitely knew what he was doing.

the thing was she knew it was performance. she knew it was just part of the stage— the choreography, the energy, the theatrical tease. but still, her chest tightened anyway. a twist of pride and something sharper— jealousy, rose inside her. she felt the urge to stake her claim, to make clear whose he belonged to.

her hands tensed in her lap. she suppressed a sharp inhale, refusing to let it slip out, she still was among fans. the lights around them shifted, signaling the end of the solo, but she barely noticed. all she could feel was the echo of proximity— the almost-kiss on stage, the crowd's roar, his eyes locked to the dancers even if just for a moment.

wonwoo watched her, his expression soft, perceptive. he leaned closer, voice low and gentle. "you okay?"

her eyes flicked to him, then swept back to the stage, where hoshi stood catching his breath, alive under the spotlight. she swallowed hard and nodded, a determined set to her lips. "yeah, more than okay".

the next thing she knew, the concert hadn’t even finished yet— still echoing through the venue, but her and wonwoo had already slipped out just before the final encore. their ways parted not long after.

ara had insisted on waiting backstage, brushing off his offer to drive her back. "i'll go with soonyoung" she had said casually, as if it hadn’t been the plan all along.

ara bowed slightly as she stepped into the makeup room, where the post-stage touch-ups and clean-ups were done. a few staff members looked up, smiling briefly before returning to their tasks.

"don't mind me," she said, her voice light as she moved toward the small couch tucked in the corner, "i'm just waiting for woozi and hoshi". ara sat down, smoothing the hem of her dress before pulling out her phone— not that she really intended to use it, just something to keep her hands busy while the sound of the concert slowly faded behind the thick backstage walls.

the room buzzed faintly with chatter, the occasional shuffle of someone entering or exiting, but ara remained quiet, her eyes glancing toward the door every few minutes without really meaning to.

she unlocked her phone out of habit, not really intending to read the dozen unread messages waiting for her. instead, her thumb drifted toward the old blue bird app, opening it before she could second-guess herself.

the scroll began mindlessly— fans had already posted high-quality photos of woozi's solo stage, clips from the crowd cheering, and a wide shot of her and wonwoo's faces lit up on the big screen. their smiles looked easy, genuine, which made her lips twitch.

but then came hoshi's solo. a dozen angles, a hundred close-ups. her fingers froze mid-scroll— it wasn't jealousy, not exactly. but something clenched, just a little, in her chest. that was her cue to close the app. her screen dimmed a second later, falling back into her lap as she exhaled slowly through her nose.

her screen dimmed, and she let it, her phone resting idly against her thigh. the low hum of voices outside the room reminded her she wasn't alone, but in that moment, it felt quiet. the makeup lights buzzed softly above her, casting a gentle glow on the little vanity mirrors lined up against the wall.

ara leaned back slightly, head tilted up, arms folded loosely over her chest. she wasn't upset, just full— the kind of full that came after a long day, after too many feelings packed into too small of a space.

she blinked slowly, then let out a quiet laugh at herself. what she was even sulking about, she tought. ara sighed dramatically— more at herself than anything else, and flopped back down onto the couch. the chill was starting to wear off, replaced by a familiar flutter in her chest she couldn't quite name.

she rubbed at her temples and let her head tip back, staring up at the ceiling for a beat. then, without really meaning to, she buried her face in her hands. just to breathe, just to shake it off.

get it together, she thought. and right then, the door creaked open again. ara peeked through her fingers—slowly, cautiously—and there they were. woozi stepped in first, talking to someone just behind him— a towel was draped around his neck, and he still looked flushed from the lights. but ara's eyes didn’t stay on him for long.

behind him, stepping in with hair tousled and sweat still glinting on his skin under the harsh dressing room light, was hoshi. still in full stagewear, his mic pack clipped to the back of his pants, his eyes darted around the room once before landing on her.

her hands dropped instantly from her face. "don't mind me," she said, sitting up straighter and forcing the most innocent smile she could. "just waiting for my ride". hoshi cocked a brow, "uh huh".

but then ara turned toward woozi instead, "anyway, you were insane out there. i think you've finally made me a fan" she smiled, watching as they sat to remove their makeup.

"finally?" woozi repeated, laughing a little as he grabbed a bottle of water. "about time", she nodded, eyes twinkling. "it was when you hit that high note and i saw stars".

behind woozi, hoshi dropped his mic pack onto the counter a bit harder than necessary. "no comment on my performance?" he asked, half-laughing, half-waiting.

ara turned just enough to look at him, "oh, you performed tonight too?" she teased. the look he gave her was half betrayed, half amused.

"i see," he said flatly. "i give you choreo, lighting, sweat, drama— and this is the reaction". she gave him a dazzling smile, "you looked very… passionate".

"passionate?" he echoed, stepping closer, "that's all?". ara crossed one leg over the other, leaning back like she wasn't slowly losing her mind watching him walk toward her in full post-performance glow.

"mmh," she hummed, "you also looked like someone who really wanted to be talked about". he stopped right in front of her, hair still damp and sticking to his forehead. his smirk tilted lazy as he sat beside her, not bothering to leave much space in between. the scent of stage— faint cologne, sweat, and whatever fog machine residue still clung to his shirt— wrapped around her like a second skin.

"is that a problem?" he asked, elbow nudging her arm lightly. ara glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. "only if you plan to ignore the consequences".

hoshi let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating lightly in his chest. "consequences?" he echoed, turning slightly to face her more fully. "what kind of consequences are we talking about?" ara didn't answer right away— just let her gaze fall deliberately to his still-damp collar, then up to his cheek where a bit of highlighter still caught the light. she tilted her head, like she was assessing something, then leaned back slowly.

"are you planning to get yourself unready or...?" she avoided his question. hoshi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, "oh?" he said, lips curling up as he dragged a hand through his damp hair. "you don't like the look?" ara shrugged, the movement nonchalant, though her eyes didn't leave him. "it's distracting"

"that sounds like a you problem," he teased, leaning just a little closer, enough that she could smell the faint traces of cologne still clinging to his skin beneath the sweat. "unless you want to help".

ara clicked her tongue, pretending to think. "tempting, but i'm not on staff". he grinned again, crooked and boyish, but didn't back away. "i'd make it worth your time", she laughed— short and disbelieving, more because he was ridiculous than anything else.

"you are such a menace", their eyes met for a second longer than necessary. her breath caught just slightly, fingers flexing on the cushion between them. then—she scoffed, breaking the tension with a well-aimed poke to his side.

"get changed, superstar" she said, standing up. "before i do help, and you end up in your next stage outfit backwards". his laughter followed her as she moved away— but his eyes? they stayed on her. warm, fixed and unmoving.

ara's steps were casual, but the corners of her mouth twitched— she could feel his eyes still on her. behind her, hoshi called out, "i'll only be five minutes. don't run off"

she threw a hand up lazily without turning around, "no promises". she wasn't going anywhere anyway, she didn't even had a ride. the makeup room quieted again once she stepped out into the hallway, the muffled buzz of crew and post-show chatter filling the space. she let her shoulders relax, leaning back against the wall across from the door, phone in hand but not really checking anything. the hum of adrenaline had faded now, replaced by something softer, more fluttering.

just a few minutes passed before the door creaked open again. this time, hoshi stepped out fully changed— in black jeans, a plain t-shirt and damp hair now swept back, looking more like soonyoung than hoshi. he spotted her immediately.

"missed me?" he asked, approaching with a boyish grin. ara gave him a once-over, "barely recognized you without the glitter and smirk".

"oh, the smirk's still here" he replied, demonstrating with a confident tilt of his head. she laughed under her breath, turning to walk beside him as he fell into step, "where's woozi?"

"still inside," he said with a chuckle, "taking his sweet time". they walked in comfortable silence for a few seconds before he nudged her lightly with his elbow. "you didn't say what you thought of the performance" he said, pretending like he wasn't waiting for the answer.

ara looked ahead, lips quirking. "i thought it was loud, flashy and ridiculous", hoshi blinked, mock-offended. "is this supposed to be a compliment?", then she turned to him, gaze softening. "i also thought it was you, and it was kind of amazing".

he paused, almost tripping over his own steps— not because of what she said, but the way she said it, "kind of?". ara shrugged, that teasing glint back in her eye, "you want more praise? you're going to have to work for it". hoshi let out a quiet laugh, not pushing further—just smiling, content.

they stepped out into the cool night air, the door clicking shut softly behind them. the loading area was quiet— just the hum of distant city life and the faint echo of loud chatter on the other side of the venue.

ara walked ahead a few steps, arms still crossed tightly over her chest. her expression wasn't exactly angry, but it wasn't all soft either. a teasing pout lingered on her lips, like she was still punishing him just a little— for the performance, for the smirk, for knowing exactly what he was doing.

hoshi followed behind, slower, his eyes scanning around the dimly lit alley. no one, no staff, no cameras— just them.

in one smooth motion, he closed the distance between them, slipping an arm around her waist from behind and pulling her gently to him. his touch was warm, easy— too easy. she stiffened, shoulders lifting, but didn't pull away. "stop" she said, not very convinced herself.

he didn't. instead, he leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek, then another— just below her ear this time. ara squirmed a little, half turning in his hold, her voice sharp with mock protest. "yah, what are you doing— here? are you crazy?"

"no one's here" he murmured, his lips grazing her skin again, "i checked". she tried to twist out of his hold, but he only chuckled, hand tightening slightly on her waist. "you're annoying" she muttered, though her voice wavered at the edges, betraying her.

"mm" he hummed, placing one more kiss on her jaw, "you said that already". ara turned around fully this time, still caught in his arm, glaring up at him— but it wasn't a real glare. her eyes were wide, her lips parted like she wanted to say something but changed her mind halfway through. the tension was right there— hot and charged, like a spark waiting for the match.

she lifted a hand to his chest, meaning to push him away, but didn't. "you're enjoying this way too much" she said, barely above a whisper. hoshi tilted his head, a small, smug grin playing at the corner of his mouth, "i earned it".

"oh?" she raised a brow, "because you dry-humped a dancer on stage?" his laugh escaped before he could stop it— low and breathy, and he leaned in again like he might kiss her, but stopped just short. "don't act like you don't like the attention"

ara blinked slowly, then smirked— her arms unfolding just enough to hook around his neck, pulling him an inch closer. "maybe i just didn't like sharing it", this time, it was hoshi who blinked.

and in that tiny flicker of surprise— just as he leaned in like he was about to kiss her again, ara slipped easily from his hold. he barely had time to register the loss of contact before she stepped to the side, like a predator who'd just flipped the game. her fingers brushed lightly along his shoulder, trailing toward his jaw.

then, just like the dancer on stage, she raised a single finger and dragged it down the line of his jaw—slow, deliberate, and maddeningly soft.

"didn't she do that too?" she asked, voice deceptively light— almost amused. her fingers had just traced the edge of his jaw. her gaze burned, even as her tone stayed playful, and hoshi swallowed visibly. his back straightened just slightly, his smirk faltering into something unreadable.

then— without a warning, she leaned in closer, so close he could feel her breath on his lips, the faintest ghost of a touch. so close that for a second, just a second, he thought she was going to kiss him— but she didn't.

instead, her mouth curved, mischievous, and she abruptly pulled back— laughing under her breath as if nothing had happened. "you're easy" hoshi blinked, lips slightly parted, still frozen in place. he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh, chase after her, or drag her back and end the teasing once and for all— maybe all three.

ara had stepped back— not far, just enough to make him feel the space she left behind. arms crossed, head tilted slightly, eyes burning into him with a glint that made his chest tight. "you're staring" she said, voice light, teasing, but the edge in her gaze was sharp. hoshi's jaw tightened, "you're doing it on purpose".

"that's obvious?" she smiled, uncrossing her arms as she stepped back in, slow and deliberate. hoshi's breath hitched, the space between them shrank, her presence magnetic, disarming— his eyes flicking down to her lips just once before quickly darting back up, as if caught.

ara tilted her head slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching. "you're really bad at hiding things, you know that?" he chuckled, low and nervous, and tried to recover with a smirk. "only around you".

that earned him a raised brow, but she didn't comment. instead, she reached up— fingers brushing lightly at the collar of his shirt, fixing nothing, just touching. her eyes never left his and hoshi's breath caught again— just barely, but enough for her to notice.

her touch was featherlight, almost absent, but deliberate. not quite playful this time, not quite teasing. just there, and somehow, that felt more dangerous than anything else. his hands hovered for a moment, unsure where to go— like he was waiting for a cue.

ara's eyes scanned his face— slow, certain— her thumb grazing the edge of his collarbone now, dipping just beneath the fabric like she might want to pull him closer. "you look nervous" she said softly, though there was no mockery in her voice this time. hoshi blinked, "i'm not".

"hmm," she tilted her head, fingers now resting at the base of his throat. "you sure?" he didn't answer, couldn't, maybe, because in that second, everything else faded— the background chatter, the hum of stagehands moving equipment, the muffled bass still thumping somewhere far beyond the wall. it was just the two of them now, close enough to breathe each other in.

ara leaned in just a fraction more, lips a whisper away from his jaw, and her voice dropped. "i think you are", her words hung between them, warm and certain— teasing, but not quite a joke.

his hand finally found her waist, gentle but grounding, as if to remind himself that this was real. ara's breath brushed against his skin as she stayed there, lingering— not to torture, not to stall, but to feel it. the quiet pull, the pulse between them.

and just when he thought she might leave him hanging again— she closed the gap.

her lips met his in a kiss that was soft at first, almost tentative, like they were testing something they already knew the answer to. then fuller—deeper, like they'd been waiting.

hoshi reacted before he could think, tilting into it, chasing her mouth with the kind of urgency he'd spent the whole night pretending not to have. his fingers pressed a little firmer against her side, pulling her just enough that her body molded into his without resistance.

lips pressed firmly against hers, warm and supple, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm that sent a shiver down her spine. she could feel the slight roughness of his stubble grazing her skin as his jaw tilted to deepen the kiss.

his hand slid from her side to the small of her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between their bodies. her fingers tangled in the soft strands at the nape of his neck, tracing the heat pulsing through his skin. every inhale they shared was shallow and urgent, breaths mingling as his tongue gently brushed against her lower lip, asking for entrance.

the kiss was electric— each press and pull a silent conversation, a dance of touch and taste, leaving her heart pounding and her body alight with a sweet ache they didn't want to end.

then she pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and something softer underneath. a slow smile curled on her lips as she whispered, "i've told you about the consequences". her fingers still lingered lightly on his chest, the warmth between them undeniable, while the playful challenge in her voice made his heart skip a beat.

⌇˚ taglist ︵ @jeongyukook @cheolsboo

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alleyangelss · 3 days ago

Text

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ ... ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ༝༝

𝓢ᴏʟ ᴅᴇ ᴍɪ ᴠɪᴅᴀ- ᴄɪʀᴏ's ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪᴘs

sunshine, sunshine of my life.

⋮ ⌗ ┆ works in progress, unset date time and length!!

⤷ fics will only be sped up by request. you can request for the content of wips to be slightly altered as long as they are in this post. any reqs will be added to this list.

⤷ideas and prompts can be taken from this list just message me! list will be consistently updated!

⤷ ongoing events: 372k of sophia laforteza

» next event: black cats [ningning, sophia, karina, yc]

» next event: AMERICA'S SWEETHEART [aespa]

» upcoming event: AMERICAN PSYCHO

♕- ciro's favs • 𝜗ৎ - heavy angst • 𓏵 - nsfw

ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ǫᴜᴇᴜᴇ:

dear cupid, next time hit us both! .... daddy's girl

⤷ boyfriend material

༝༝babydoll! [sophia laforteza] 𓏵

⤷ succubus camgirl! sophia x succubus murderer! reader

» ᴛᴀɢs. smut, nsfw, dub-con, part of upcoming series

» sᴜᴍ. sophia sends you a gift. you put to good use. if she looks like a doll, she might as well act like one. she goes into the positions you put the doll in.

༝༝see no evil, hear no evil [sophia laforteza] ♕𝜗ৎ

⤷ poker ace! sophia x deaf chess prodigy! reader

» ᴛᴀɢs. hurt/comfort, ptsd, mentions of self-harm

» sᴜᴍ. your brother gets a new girlfriend, and it turns out to be your sister Dani's crush. soon enough, she'll be yours too. the avanzini family has a type.

༝༝false romeo, true juliet [sophia laforteza] 𓏵 ♕𝜗ৎ

⤷ genius juvenile murderer! sophia x law prodigy! reader

» ᴛᴀɢs. unhealthy codependency, genius x genius

» ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs. detailed mentions of torture

» sᴜᴍ. you are a lawyer, right? then why are you falling in love with a criminal? you find loopholes for her, to save her, but you've been causing all her problems since the start.

༝༝dear cupid, next time shoot us both! [sophia laforteza]

⤷child of aphrodite! sophia x child of poseidon! reader

» ᴛᴀɢs. fluff, bickering, found family. sunshine x grumpy.

» sᴜᴍ. there are two people you and megan like to piss off. one is the other. one is sophia laforteza, the aphrodite cabin's captain. it turns out, she's into that.

» ᴏɴᴇ-ʟɪɴᴇ. can't shoot straight if you can't think straight-can't shoot straight if you aren't, either.

༝༝boyfriend material [sophia laforteza] 𓏵 𝜗ৎ ♕

⤷coming soon!

⤷radio host! sophia x sweetheart! reader

» ᴛᴀɢs. one-sided pining, internalised homophobia

» sᴜᴍ. you are in love with the host of the morning session of the radio, that voice constantly masked by crackles and static noises. your bestfriend sophia doesn't understand your obession with them. when you find out they live in the same town as you by accident, you realise you might have a chance to really love them.

» ᴏɴᴇ-ʟɪɴᴇ. everyone says sophia's such boyfriend material, if only she wasn't a girl.

༝༝daddy's girl [sophia laforteza] 𝜗ৎ 𓏵

⤷coming soon...

⤷ illegitimate princess! sophia x heir apparent! reader

» ᴛᴀɢs. nobility! au, dead dove. mindbreak, violence.

» ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs. this is fucked up shit. mentions non-con

» sᴜᴍ. when your father's second wife dies after failing to give him a son, it seems that you'll really be left to inherit the duke family house. you, a female heir.

but when he brings his new wife in, you recognise her face from the newspapers. you also happen to know that she's exactly a year younger than you.

she is even younger than you when she gets married to your own father.

༝༝pretty little liar [sophia laforteza] 𓏵

⤷best friend's girlfriend sophia x reader

» ᴛᴀɢs. cheating, exhibitionism kink, rough sex

» sᴜᴍ. your best friend is an idol, and so is her girlfriend. daniela avanzini and sophia laforteza have a perfect relationship on and off camera. so perfect in fact, that sophia laforteza has been known to be 'close friends' with you yourself.

༝༝frankestein. [sophia laforteza] 𝜗ৎ

⤷genuis! investigator! sophia x organ thief! cardiologist! reader

» ᴛᴀɢs. organ trafficking. murder. blood and violence.

» sᴜᴍ. by day, you're an accomplished cardiologist. by night, you're part of a robin-hood type group that goes after sinners and takes their organs for good. they simply don't deserve them, rotten politicians and corrupted police force.

then, an investigator comes. not the first, and definitely not the last. and you can tell, just from her walk, that they're suffering from a heart disease.

༝༝EVER AFTER SWEETHEART [sophia laforteza] 𝜗

⤷ ever after high x katseye [prompts/ideas, please dm]

༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝ ༝ ༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝ ༝ ༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝ ༝ ༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝༝ ༝

@alleyangelss™ masterlist.

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chlosallow · 2 days ago

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finish. ⋆˙ ⋆⭒˚.⋆ m.sturniolo

warnings: established relationship, smut, blowjob, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, teasing, sort switch!matt, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc..)

matt was sitting at his desk, fingers working on his laptop as he writes his essay for school. well, tries to write.

but with you between his legs, lips wrapped around him, he could barely focus.

fingers twitching - shaking. pants leaving his lips, hips bucking, head falling forward and eyes fluttering shut. but the worse part? you weren’t even taking him in fully. just letting your lips hover over his tip, your tongue tracing his slit. “gotta work matty. finish that essay for class.”

he shakes his head, one of his hands moving down to rub against his lower stomach, fighting the urge to grab the back of your head and make you stop teasing him.

your eyes fall to his hand, watching carefully to make sure he doesn’t try to release any pressure. you wanted him right where he was.

“i-i can’t.. shit can’t focus baby..” he whines out, hand slowly moving to his thigh, gripping it tightly but you quickly place his hand back on his desk. “nuh uh matt. if you don’t finish, i’ll pull away completely.”

and that got matt straight back to work. fingers quickly moving on the keyboard, trying to spell every word correctly, making sure his punctuation is correct all while begging you to take more of him.

“done- shit i’m done.” so you push yourself up, eyes darting over his work and seeing all the misspelled words. a smirk forms on your lips, shaking your head before going back down. “fix the misspells.”

you suck on his tip gently, fingernails barely brushing against his veins as your eyes stay on him. matt could barely find the words he misspelled with his focus completely on you, done being tortured and teased.

but soon after you hear the laptop close suddenly. a hand comes flying down to your jaw, not tight, not forcefully, just coaxing. your eyes meet his and you see them darken. the smirk on his face, the small droplets of sweat falling down his forehead, and his chest rising and falling with his pants.

“your turn sweetheart.” and before you know it, you were naked laying on his bed, squirming and crying out at your third orgasm, matt eating you out like it’s his last meal.

tag list °❀⋆ @mattspolitank @h3arts4harry @sophand4n4 @riversandwinds @sturnl0ve @marrykisskilled @mattswifeyy @courta13 @auttysturnz @allineedismatt @tezzzzzzzz @passionfruitchris

#⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ chlosallow #⋆⭒˚.⋆ chloe's blog #𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ chloe's works #⋆˚࿔ chloe’s matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

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distuff · 3 days ago

Note

Hi hi! May I request a saja boys x reader where they see them after one of their first performances and since they’re enamored, stroll up to them but reader flirts with them and how’d they react? Totally understand if you don’t want to write it!

Answer: There's a lot of they/ them where it can be taken as it's readers first performance - the boyz are enamored - and reader flirts OR it's SAJA's first performance - reader is enamored - and reader flirts w em. SINCE I don't know which one you meant, I decided to go w the one which best fits the ver of the SAJA in my head. I apologise if it's the wrong ver <(_ _)>

📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Demon Boys' And Soda Pop

Featuring: Mystery Saja, Jinu Saja, Romance Saja, Abs Saja, Baby Saja Reader: neutral

Mystery SAJA

🐶 If someone had told him he’d one day be forced to dress in eye-burning bright colours—exposing parts of his body deemed “attractive”—just to attract a horde of desperate, lonely humans, wasting his demonic energy on cheap parlour tricks… Mystery would have stared silently at the bold demon through his fringe, then promptly set them alight with Gwi-ma’s fire.

🐶It wouldn’t kill them—just hurt enough to make them run and think twice about speaking to him again. Mystery had no intention of sitting through another one of Gwi-ma’s drawn-out lectures about murdering his people without “justifiable cause.”

🐶 He exhaled, a quiet sigh slipping past his lips. The faintest wrinkle formed between his brows—thankfully concealed beneath his fringe. If Jinu spotted it, he'd be pulled aside for another talk about why he should never look stressed. Then, without fail, he’d be dragged into a ‘mandatory’ spa day by Romance—which, of course, was just an excuse for Romance to pamper himself.

🐶 Why had he even agreed to this nonsense in the first place? Ah... Right. He remembered now, He promised me time to explore the human world…

🐶Mystery’s gaze slid sideways toward Jinu, who stood at the front of the platform, addressing the crowd of awe-struck humans still reeling from their first performance. The stage beneath them slowly began to descend, the elaborate illusion fading around them—carefully unravelled under Mystery’s control.

🐶 He narrowed his eyes, mentally willing Jinu to feel the full weight of his glare through the layers of hair that veiled them. I should have asked him to elaborate on how much time I’d actually have for that.

🐶 A small cluster of humans had begun edging towards them for Gwi-ma knows what. Mystery watched them, unamused. Fools, he thought, unimpressed. It was like watching sheep coming closer to wolves they mistook for a livestock guardian dog.

🐶 Mystery’s attention slid over to Romance and Baby, who were—depending on how one looked at it—either worsening the situation or accelerating the mission. They were actively overusing the heart illusion Mystery had reluctantly taught them at Jinu’s request.

🐶 Technically, it was working. The illusions were doing their job. The humans were enthralled. Unfortunately, they weren’t allowed to harvest any souls just yet. Too many humans clustered in one area. Panic would ripple like wildfire. The herd would scatter. It wasn’t that serious—they had five high-ranking demons on site, after all. But what made the situation needlessly irritating… were the huntresses.

🐶 Mystery could sense them easily, even when they tried to mask their presence by using other human souls as cover. Where a normal human’s wave was scorching-cool, almost milky in structure, the huntresses gave off something far more volatile. Sharp. Electric. Like brushing against live wires at full charge. Even getting close to their wave would feel like being struck by a thousand volts.

🐶 Mystery tilted his head, analysing the new generation of the trio. Emotionally constipated, he concluded. The long pink-haired one and the purple-haired one both had the facial expressions of someone who hadn't felt joy since birth. The black-haired one, meanwhile, just looked cripplingly self-conscious—desperate for approval.

🐶 Haaah... How fun~ The thought curled in his mind with a faintly sadistic twist. The corner of his lips quirked upwards before he caught himself, smoothing it quickly back into the well-practised, faint smile that couldn't quite reach the hidden corners of his eyes, no matter how much Romance or Abby tried teaching him how to smile.

🐶 He was just about to warn Baby, who was closest and currently far too preoccupied not to make eye contact with the drooling humans… When a scorching-cool wave brushed close enough to sting his senses.

🐶 He froze. His head turned immediately toward the source.

Mystery wasn’t surprised when one of the ‘braver’ humans peeled away from the crowd and approached him too. What did surprise him, however, was the taste of your wave. It hit him like syrup—honey-sweet and cloyingly thick. His teeth ached from the overwhelming richness of it, and he had to draw a deep breath just to stop himself from instinctively reaching out to join your field and sink his teeth into your soul. He was used to all manner of emotional flavours: the body-shuddering fear, the heavy despair of those realising their life would be taken, the bittersweet blend of fascination and dread in those who fell for his illusions. Sometimes, a teasing hint of lust when he drew out the kill in solo hunts. He knew all those notes well. But this… this was different. A choking sweetness that clung to his throat and made his mouth water. Obsession. That was the taste. It curled around his senses like perfume—intoxicating and maddening. Saliva pooled at the corners of his tongue, and he was forced to swallow it down. He barely registered the words coming out of your mouth—soft attempts at flirtation, laced with ill-placed intrigue. Empty bait to lure his attention. You must have seen a potential mate. He, on the other hand, saw a potential feast. Maybe… He tilted his head in that calculated, “cute” way he had to perfect for show, watching you falter mid-sentence. Your pupils dilated. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and kept speaking—more words Mystery didn’t bother to absorb. He was too busy weighing the odds. Should he be the first to sample this rare sweetness?

:::

Jinu SAJA

🐦‍⬛ Jinu had known Gwi-ma would amplify their demonic powers once they reached the surface—but he hadn’t expected them to work this well. He’d always been aware he was unconventionally attractive, even in his full demon form, but this? This was bordering on absurd.

🐦‍⬛ Jinu had pictured a slow burn—maybe a quiet start, where he’d have to claw tooth and nail for the attention of HUNT/X’s fanbase. A gradual rise, needed to be earned. But no.

🐦‍⬛ All it had taken were the forms of enigmatic, unreachable “human” males with sculptured features and a predator’s gait to throw the whole fandom into a mess. The women were already swooning; the men, practically taking notes.

🐦‍⬛ It made Jinu wonder just how flimsy human attachment really was. All you had to do, apparently, was carry yourself like the world bent for you—a bit of ambition, a cool air of indifference, maybe a smirk that hinted you knew something no one else did. That alone was enough to draw the eyes of women and make men glance down at their own posture with sudden insecurity.

So, yes—it was safe to say Jinu was internally bouncing like a newly turned demon being praised by their lord and doomer, Gwi-ma, when you—a ordinary human with an energy that screamed "bad news"—decided to approach him just as he finished his speech.

The platform had lowered. His escape route was ready. He was about to poof himself away from the crowd of humans they'd gathered with the guys—until you stepped forward, cutting right into his space.

Safe to say, he froze.

Eyes wide, shoulders stiff, Jinu barely managed to mask his alarm as you stopped far too close. You leaned forward with what he could only describe as a flirty smile, voice dipping into a tone that made his fingers twitch uncomfortably.

You were praising their performance in a suggestive tone as you inched closer to him.

Jinu leaned back, spine arching slightly, trying not to look like he was retreating. He caught a blur of movement in the corner of his eye and snapped his gaze toward Romance—thank the lord, he was nearby.

His eyes pleaded, darting between you and Romance in sheer panic.

Romance blinked once. Then, with zero shame or sympathy, he grinned and gave Jinu a double thumbs-up before casually turning his attention to another bold human—this one flushed red as they walked up to him.

Jinu threw his brother-in-rank a betrayed look, but of course it went completely unnoticed.

He turned back to you—who, thankfully, seemed far too enamoured to catch the one-sided non-verbal scream for help.

He scrambled to recover. A half-baked “thanks” left his lips, with awkward smile which seemed to sprung you even more as you began talking faster and with more vigor cutting him off from giving some excuse about needing to leave.

He straightened, ready to cut you off again—

—but paused.

His gaze dropped to your honmoon. It was quivering.

He ignored the emotion it was giving off—he wasn’t ready to unpack that—and instead focused on the colour.

It wasn’t what he knew it to be. The barrier was supposed to glow a bright, pure blue. Standard human energy. But yours…

It was shifting. Deeper. Darker.

Purple.

What does that mean? he thought sharply, eyes scanning the rest of the group as you kept chatting, blissfully unaware, now rambling on about some place that sold amazing “boba” or whatever that was.

And then he saw it—more purpling honmoons scattered throughout the crowd. Some faint, others more vivid.

The shape of the colour sat on the edge of recognition. He knew what it meant—or at least, some part of him did.

Jinu swallowed hard, deciding not to dwell on it now. Not here. Not out in the open like this.

If he was right about those three females, they were the huntresses. And now that he was more aware of the barrier, he could feel it—faint traces of their energy just barely seeping through the protective waves of the honmoon.

He’d bring it up with the others once they were safely back at the flat. That was the plan. With that in mind, he tuned out your voice entirely, eyes distant as he calmly reached out, placed a hand on your shoulder, and flashed a dazzling smile that immediately made you freeze.

"The SAJA is honoured to have such a devoted fan," he said smoothly, voice warm and formal. "We’re glad you enjoyed our song. Let’s hope to see you again at the event."

And with that, he turned on his heel, fluid and unbothered, heading off to collect the rest of the group. Time to make a cool, coordinated exit—one that involved ducking into a random alley and vanishing in a puff of purple smoke, since someone (read: himself) had told their new manager they wouldn’t need a private van.

A mistake. One he would never admit to out loud.

Today also marked the first time Jinu couldn’t just sever a human’s head when they got on his nerves. Not great. And, to make matters worse, the first time he’d ever been scolded by one.

Yeah. This mission was already shaping up to be far more headache-inducing than he’d accounted for.

:::

Romance SAJA

🌹 Flirting? Please~ Romance didn’t flirt. He seduced. He knew how to read the humans, knew exactly how to use their desperation to belong, to be noticed, to feel wanted for his own benefits. Every time he was sent to the surface, it was the same predictable pattern. The only difference now was that he was allowed to enjoy it.

🌹 He stood with a relaxed posture, scanning the crowd. Each time he met a gaze, he held it for a second longer than necessary. His smiled and let his gaze linger just long enough to make them hope for more. He locked eyes, nodded slightly, and watched as they lit up, mistaking a moment of attention for something personal.

🌹He guessed he could afford to spare some attention to these desperate sheep more than he usually does. That was until his settled on you.

Romance knew from experience how little it took. A single glance—intentional or not—and most humans took it as an invitation to approach. The others came driven by that familiar thought rattling around their heads: What if? Only a few had the confidence to follow through. The rest were just caught up in their own fantasies.

He didn’t really care which one you were.

What caught his attention was your honmoon line. It pulsed with a shade of purple he had never seen before. It felt, enticing.

He returned your shy smile with a confident one, pretending you had his full attention as you began speaking. Something about the performance, maybe his looks, possibly the heart-shaped illusion—he didn’t bother to follow the details.

His focus remained on your wave that pulsed with entirely new emotion. It almost had a flavour to it—faintly sweet, like a candy he remembered from when he’d still been human. The phantom taste lingered, making his mouth water.

He had never felt a reaction like this before. His canines ached slightly as he resisted the urge to bite his bottom lip.

He didn’t realise he’d leaned in until his fingers brushed your skin. You flinched slightly, eyes wide, face flushed. The contact made your wave tremble again. The purple deepened, becoming less rigid, more vibrant. Unlike past encounters, this one wasn’t scorching cool. It felt close—almost touchable. How interesting~

His smile widened. He stood taller, easily casting you in shadow, watching you stare up at him with an emotion he recognised instantly.

Expectation.

He let out a short laugh, and you smiled, looking away shyly, no doubt assuming something you’d said had caused his reaction.

Naive sheep brain. Romance let his hand settle on your cheek, his mouth opening, ready to extend the invitation to come with them. This time, he didn’t even need to use his abilities. You were already halfway drawn in—

Then an arm hooked tightly around his shoulders.

The link between you snapped instantly as Romance stiffened and turned, eyes meeting Jinu’s. The older demon wore a strained smile.

Romance stared at him, unimpressed.

"My, what a dazzling fan we have here," Jinu said, pulling Romance closer to his side—and further away from you.

Romance gave him a flat look. You looked just as surprised, eyes wide, honmoon flickering with embarrassment now. Romance didn’t care about that. He cared that Jinu had just cut him off from what would’ve been his first proper meal of the day.

Jinu ignored him entirely, leaning toward you.

"It’s truly saddening to jump between you two," he said, voice full of false regret, "but unfortunately, the SAJA Boys have to leave now."

He began backing away, still gripping Romance’s shoulder hard enough to stop him from shaking free and forcing him to follow suit.

"Thank you for your support! Let's talk at the event !"

And just like that, Romance was dragged along, forced to throw you a quick wink and smirk before following the others. Baby appeared beside him seconds after, sliding into step and looking mildly disturbed.

Romance’s attention shifted immediately. The mischief in his expression returned as he leaned closer to the younger demon. Time to figure out what had put that look on Baby’s face seeing - or rather feeling - the sheep around them began having similar purple waves like you did.

Soon, it wouldn’t be difficult to find someone to taste. What was that saying? If everyone’s special, then no one is?

Looked like that applied to you now.

:::

Abby SAJA

💪 Abby never understood—or rather, never cared to understand—what someone’s fixation on another could drive them to do.

💪 He knew how he looked. Knew his body made it easier than he could count to hunt down a worthy soul, whether to devour or send off to Gwi-ma. What that did to humans—or even some demons—wasn’t his concern.

💪 Why should he care? Kahahaha! Abby enjoyed the attention when he had time for it. What it made others do wasn’t his problem.

That’s why, when you—a faceless human in a sea of fans—stepped forward with hesitant steps but determined eyes that couldn’t help roaming across the deep V of Abby’s button-up shirt before quickly darting away, it didn’t faze him one bit.

If anything, Abby’s grin only widened as you came to a stop in front of him. Uncertain, and nervous. But clearly set on doing something that involved him.

The moment your lips parted to speak, Abby casually crossed his arms, muscles bulging as he straightened his posture. Predictably, your words tumbled out as a string of muttered, incoherent syllables.

Whatever speech you’d prepared disintegrated the second your gaze dropped to the flexed lines of his chest. Your cheeks flushed, your mouth opened again—then promptly closed as you looked away, mortified.

Abby guessed you were mentally scolding yourself, if the furrow in your brows meant anything. But he didn’t dwell on that. Not when you looked back up at him, a flicker of renewed courage behind your eyes.

Amused, Abby tilted his head, smirked—and slowly puff up his chest to undid another button. More of his sun-kissed skin came into view, the "sweat" he’d learned how to project out catching the light in all the right places.

You froze. Mouth shut. Eyes wide. Silenced all over again.

Abby would have to thank Romance later for that trick with the sweat. It seemed to make everything pop just right.

Needless to say, he spent the next few moments subtly flexing, thoroughly enjoying the way your expression kept getting better and better. You didn’t even hesitate when he leaned down and asked, “Wanna touch?”—your hand was already reaching before he’d finished the sentence.

And of course, two of the guys had to stepped in. Seems like this time it had to be Baby and Jinu who had to drag him away before things could dragged out longer than necessary.

Jinu flashed you a polite, slightly awkward smile, muttering something about how he looked forward to seeing you again at the event. Meanwhile, Baby—his large doe eyes glancing you over with clear disinterest—grabbed Abby by the arm and yanked him along. Abby let himself be dragged, grinning all the while as he waved at you.

You waved back, still seemingly in a trance, before snapping out of it with a startled blink. The moment passed. The chance to speak your mind gone just like that.

You let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping as you kicked a stray pebble at your feet. There was only one thing left to do.

You were going to have to spend money to attend that event just to see the Saja Boys again.

Especially Abby— Your face flushed hot at the memory of your fingers brushing over his sturdy muscles.

:::

Baby SAJA

🍼 Baby lacked the proper words to describe what he felt once the performance ended.

🍼 The pedestal was lowered by Mystery, who expertly maintained the intricate illusions cast across the area—illusions so convincing they mimicked what humans in this era called “technology.” A strange, blinding magic that made Baby’s sharpened eyesight burn beneath the glare of artificial light. He wasn’t alone in that.

🍼 Coming out into the capital at night had been a mistake. They’d learned that quickly enough. But the discomfort wasn’t what made Baby freeze. No—this feeling stirring in his chest had nothing to do with aching eyes as it was daylight or exhausted limbs as he could barely feel anything.

🍼 It was something else entirely. Something his body struggled to put a name on. It tasted like joy, yet carried the sharp tang of anticipation. Beneath that, a bitter trace of fear. The entire wave was drenched in something sweet—syrupy, almost cloying—cut through by a burning sensation, like the kick of rum. It was... intoxicating.

🍼 He’d tasted plenty from the crowd, even mid-performance: admiration, envy, lust, and in some cases curiosity with confusion in three that was topped with three other emotions. All these feelings were familiar.

🍼 But this? This was new. He couldn’t pin it down—not with his instincts, not even when compared to the countless feelings from his older hunts.

🍼 Still rooted in place, Baby slowly turned his head. And then he saw you. A human. You stood just on the edge of the herd, clutching your hands close to your chest. Your eyes were set with determination, though fear clung just beneath the surface. Hesitant, yet anticipating something good. And then you took a step forward and began walking straight towards him.

Oh shit. Baby’s eyes widened as he watched you draw closer. That unfamiliar, clogging-yet-intoxicating sensation flooded his body more—thick and shimmering off your honmoon wave. And now that he looked more carefully... was it turning purple?

He stared at the stream that shyly peeled off the barrier, wavering mid-air as if unsure whether to stray along some unseen path. It hovered for a moment—then slinked back into the safety of the boundary it had come from, as though retreating into habit.

Baby's confusion showed plainly, his brows knitting as he studied it. But the moment the feeling became more noticeable, his expression blanked. The usual scorching-cold sensation—the one he was used to feeling from humans waves before he soothed them—wasn’t there.

Instead, it was cool. Soothing. A gentle, welcoming calm that whispered at him to touch, to linger.

His mouth watered. His body trembled with the urge to lean in, to taste this new, divine flavour. Something he’d never encountered and was curious to sample.

And then—he locked eyes with you.

Instantly, that pleasurable heat vanished. Replaced by the sudden, jarring urge to step back.

So he did.

You stopped. Visibly startled.

Good, Baby thought, even as his own face twitched with something that looked close to panic. He might’ve felt nothing emotionally, but his body—his instincts—knew not to get too close.

Why? His gaze scanned you, wide and uncertain. You stood tall now, less hesitant, more puzzled. His body tightened with something sour.

And then you smiled. Warm and inviting.

Something that should’ve meant comfort—but instead made Baby flinch. He looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with something so... gentle. Something he had the impulse to twist into a crooked grin or stretched unnaturally altogether to reveal the true face under the façade.

What the hell is that? the thought stabbed through his mind. His eyes darted back to you—only to find you stepping toward him again, still smiling.

That same smile. It made his skin crawl.

You looked unsure, but you didn’t stop. “Ah, I apologise for speaking like this, I just wanted to—”

But you didn’t get to finish. Baby turned sharply on his heel and walked away. Fast.

He didn’t stop until he reached the others, slipping soundlessly into place beside Mystery—letting the older demon’s steady presence and cloaking aura pull him out of your reach. Your strange honmoon wave vanished under Mystery’s natural demonic aura.

And only then did Baby’s shoulders sag, his entire body coiling tight with disgust.

He didn’t understand what that feeling had been. But he hated it. He hated how it made him feel.

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