#it's better if someone else gives it a go

[vampmira]

open up what you got in your mind to me. [pt.2 – saja boys.]

they've never met someone like you — a mortal who almost knew them .. better than they knew themselves. for the boys, it's annoyingly intriguing. for the girls, it's comforting.

paring(s): huntrix & saja boys x demon expert!gn!reader

warning(s:) EVERYTHING IN HERE IS A PART TWO TO THIS !! some movie changes, probably effected lore that makes no sense for the sake of the narrative, a little angst at the beginning

request | tags: @blueberrysquire @akariis4snowball @j0ykill

a/n: this is part 2 !! i had sooo many ideas for huntrix that i had to make another part for the saja boys so that it wasn't so long . this part isn't as good but i liked it so ☆☆☆

that night huntrix defeated gwima was a blur. all you remember was the zombie mob of fans, half of the fight, and the use of your aura vision to raise the saja boys above the honmoon before it glimmered in gold. jinu, who gave his newly found soul for rumi, was practically reincarnated through her sword – standing in front of her post-concert, arms open for her to fall into with tears from the both of them. everyone else? well, they felt lost.

the saja boys weren't sure what to do anymore. jinu was overjoyed, of course, but the boys knew nothing more beyond gwima and their mission. they didn't care much about music, nor their fans – which huntrix still couldn't wrap their minds around – and it's not like they had secret human hobbies. they never had time for that. until now.

post-gwima, they stayed in an apartment near the huntrix penthouse, trying to figure out their new lives. for the most part, they spent most of their time under your watch – to make sure they didn't go cause chaos – but also .. under your study.

you were weird to them

they weren't used to someone other than them.. knowing them

their capabilities, their knowledge, their origins.

actually jinu found your extensive understanding of what he is to be kind of comforting

he noticed how you never really drooled over them

you'd stare, sure, but in the same way an art critic would stare at a painted blue canvas with a smeared red dot in the middle

he felt like that red dot – unexplained but you somehow understood

when he told you about his past, it was a lot for him – talking about his cruel choice

but you.. didn't judge him.

in fact, you wrote it down in your notebook immediately, the one you never let the boys get too close to

he accepted you into his life when he entertained your interest in his history

unlike him, however, the other boys were uninterested

at first anyway

thank jinu for getting them to talk to you btw

it took a little bit of convincing – telling them that you wanted to give them something more than just gwima

even though they didn't want it ...

REGARDLESS they hang out around the penthouse

because they're no longer saja boys (uninterested and unsupported by any demon staff anymore)

they really had nothing to do but mildly annoy your personal space

including being the center of your attention when the girls are out

mira gave you one rule, "living room and bathroom. only." and you've succeeded so far. abby and romance were talking by the large scale windows, mystery was playing some game with baby (and obviously winning), and jinu sat in the middle of the couch, watching whatever movie rumi put on for him. you sat beside him, sketching in your one and only personal researcher book. your pencil drew out what you felt like was the final line in mystery's hair ... before you huffed, erasing it, and trying again.

that was... until the littlest demon startled you.

"mystery, they're drawing you." bored of his game, baby peered over your shoulder, only passively curious and really wanting to mess with you. heads turned at your exposure to the room, especially jinu, who looked over your other shoulder at the sketch you did of him earlier.

"you're.. sketching us?" the direct ask made you a bit nervous, especially being under so many eyes. (kind of. mystery was more just.. generally facing your direction.) "'weakness.. chest?' are you taking notes on us?" you stood up, nearly defensive, turning around to face the couch trio.

"if it weren't for your old friends, i wouldn't have to write it all down again." the boys went quiet, remembering the origin of your knowledge and powers. "i'm just.. tired of keeping it all inside. i need to get it out somewhere."

romance, true to his name, leaned over your shoulder, putting you both in a proximity much closer than you've ever had to experience before.

"then why don't we do something.. a little more fun .. to help you get it all out?"

normally sentences like that from him sound way more suggestive than he means them to be

but this time he came up with an actual solution to release your closed up, ready-to-pop-out-of-your-skin knowledge

they gave you a one way trip to infodump station ! an interview !

they wanted to learn more about you anyways

their fellow demons down below were the ones to wipe out your ancestors

not them

and they make sure you know it too

but they can't help but feel .. a little, tiny bit bad that you're now just a living library

a time capsule, holding onto so much information that you're about to burst 24/7

they had never met a researcher honestly

you intrigued them as much as they did for you

how much did you really know ?? did you know anything or is all this antsy behavior a ploy to make it look like you knew everything when you really knew nothing ??

their disguises were perfectly created to make every little fan fall for their attractiveness the second they looked at the boys

but you never drooled at them or had your eyes pop out of your head

you just always... stared. processing. tracing mindfully.

they didn't know what you were really abut. but they were about to find out. and really test your persona.

romance sat relaced in a chair as you circled him, pencil taking note of everything you noticed. how his markings were sharp, not rounded like rivers, how his skin was cooled, not burning hot. all things you already knew, but you found small comfort in knowing not much changed. you took a deep breath around his hair, nose scrunching up. he smiled, taking your cheek in his hand.

"new cologne." his voice was smooth, gentle. traditionally alluring. "just for you. do you like it?" he turned up his flirtatiousness, pulling you in closely, testing the waters of your focus.. before you turned away to start writing, completely uneffected.

"so many generations and you guys still smell like flames.." you mumbled to yourself.

"would you rather we smell like bubblegum?" baby tried to sass you, but you were too focused on the sharpness of his teeth to care. you stepped towards him, eyes widened.

"can demons still tear apart brick with the force of their canines?" you asked, rather close to his face. for a moment, he almost felt like the flustered one.

"yes..? no? i-i don't know." he crossed his arms, childishly. "i don't go around biting bricks." you jot it down still as you move towards abby. he's deeply relaxed, leaning back on the couch, comfortable shirt riding up to expose his famously toned abs. your eyes trail off of your notebook and they think.. they've got you.

"like what you see?" he teases. "you can touch them, you know." a bold move that brings you closer, nails tracing his skin. they're almost disappointed that abby is the one who stole your attention.. before they realize you're attention isn't stolen at all. you're drawing his markings with careful detail.

"where did yours come from? rumi's started forming on her arm when she was a kid, but they haven't reached her stomach yet. they grow with time, right? how old would that make you then..?" you dissolve into mutters they can barely decipher. "oh!! mystery!" he almost jumps behind the couch when you race over to him, making jinu laugh from the sidelines of their attempts to flirt with you. "i've never seen a demon sparkle! that's new.. is that just you? or is there a whole subspecies of sparkling demons? or is it your human disguise..?" your questions nearly overwhelm him, enough to make him forget how he's supposed to flirt with you, but romance pulls you away, whispering in your ear.

"it's not just him." he smiles, hand on your shoulder. "you're sparkling, too, sweetheart." if anyone could fluster anyone, it'd be him, even if it takes two rounds. his thumb runs against your chin. "you look so cute in this lighting, like a rose."

"speaking of which, what's the flora like down there? are there any? do they eat demons or are they like.. regular flowers? we knew more of demons than of gwima's realm. did they smell? i bet they might have.. would it be nostalgic or torturing?"

the boys share a look, and sigh. you went off into high speed muttering again.

you really were everything you said

uninterested in their flirts and more in knowledge

that almost made them like you more..

in the following times after the interview, they greeted you a bit more casually – sometimes cheerfully, asking if you had any new drawings or trivia you wanted to get off your chest

how did you . tame them !? does the whole hard to get thing actually work !?

it confused the girls wildly

but to see them adjusting to being here through someone who actually understood them instead of lying around, empty and lost, was a pick-me-up in the mornings

one morning, after being delivered a coffee, handsigned by the boys, you felt something click in your head, a sensation you had never felt before, and reached to put it in your notebook immediately

"demons, when properly befriended, like to be understood. they brought me coffee. do demons like coffee??"

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Mark Grayson x chubby male reader. I know that man loves them plump and chunky (confirmed in the comics 🙏) 100% a soft dom and yeah.

Again, got lost in the sauce. Think this is the last one. Crazy how I went from obsessing over Jason Duval to Mark, wonder who's next, find out in a couple of weeks

I'll see y'all in a month. Enjoy!

Mark loves everything about you: your wonderful personality and your chubby body. So, when your mind starts blabbering about him not loving you, telling you that, why would a man like him be with someone like you, or he's just with you out of pity, Mark shuts that down. He always reassures you that he's in love with you and that nothing is gonna change his mind about it.

Cuddles, sex, and words of affirmation usually work. He'll eliminate those negative thoughts and replace them with positive ones.

You were optimistic in the morning, much better than you were a couple of days ago. It made Mark's body fill with joy as he watched you being you. So, he decided to take you out, let you choose wherever you wanted to go.

...

"This is where you wanted to go?" Mark asked, standing in front of the entrance to the high-end lingerie boutique. It made him wonder what you'll look like wearing sexy pieces of lingerie, or even a thong. The thoughts made his core warm with arousal.

"I'm just curious. Just to browse," you replied, pulling Mark into the boutique.

The boutique itself was lavish; it smelled faintly of rosewater and vanilla, and soft jazz music was playing in the background, with golden lights spilling and shimmering across the satin display. Lacy bras, lingerie sets, and thongs hung delicately on hangers while mannequins were in the center of the store, posing with pieces that were popular to buy.

You began to regret your decision, but decided to push that down and just browse. Mark, on the other hand, was like a kid in a candy store, picking and looking at different pieces of lingerie, especially thongs. Mark thinks you would look stunning in these pieces.

"Come on, babe, you'll look amazing in this!" Mark said as he held out a thong, stretching the piece of fabric with his fingers.

"Mark, my ass will literally fall out, its not made for that," you mumbled, playing the hem of your hoodie as your face was red from the thought of wearing that.

"It is most definitely made for this," Mark said, pulling you closer to his body. His hand rests on your hips, rubbing circles into them as he plays with the thong, his eyes shamelessly roam your body as he already imagines you wearing it. Heat blooms in your body, shifting in Mark's touch as he gives that handsome grin.

"Fine..."

"Yes! We're getting this. And the mesh one. And the red and black set over there." Mark said, pressing a kiss on your forehead before going all over the boutique to find whatever would look good.

Back home, you started to try out the pieces Mark brought. You stood in front of the mirror, examining yourself. Instinctively, you crossed your arms over your stomach. The thong clung to your hips, showing every curve and crevice. Negative thoughts began flooding your head, telling you that this was meant for someone else. Someone better. Someone slimmer.

You couldn't look at yourself anymore. It felt disgusting. You squeezed your love handles, you looked at your pudgy stomach sticking out like a sore thumb, and your man boobs flopping on both sides. How could Mark like this? Wouldn't he want someone better? Maybe Eve? She is slim and beautiful, and they're always together.

"Are you done? I wanna see... hey, hey, why are you crying?" Mark said as he stepped into your room, you jumped as your gaze met his in the mirror. There was concern in Mark's voice as he stood beside, pulling you into his arms. You momentarily forgot about everything. It was nice being in Mark's arms... so warm and comforting, but it came back.

"I look... weird. Too much skin is showing, and this extra... meat," you mumbled, as a tear prickled your eyes, your lips quivering. You gestured towards your love handles, squeezing them.

"You think I don't love that? You don't get it, do you?" Mark mumbled as he leaned down and pressed his lips on your shoulder, his other hand moving down to your waist.

"Get what?"

"You don't get how absolutely obsessed I am with you. This body... Your hips, thighs, and ass... everything about you makes me love you more." Mark groans as he gropes and kneads your flesh. His kisses got more persistent as he intended to worship your body, wipe out any negative thoughts.

"Why would you think I was lying, babe? To me, you don't realize how hot you are, and that's only half of what makes me obsessed with you." Mark said wholeheartedly as he continued his ministrations, turning you around and lifting you, it was easy, you weighed nothing to him. He tossed you on the bed after giving some light kisses.

"And before you say it, there is no one else. There's only you." Mark said as he didn't want to hear you degrade yourself more. He cupped your face, pressing his lips against yours. He needed you to feel every ounce of love and affection.

taglist: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation @ghostking4m @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @your-cow-boy @mack-thedork @starboye @boypied @sleep-0-deprived @cronasluvr

Author's note: I got lost in the sauce. Why must all this quick writing come when I'm writing drabbles, but not when I'm writing my requests? Anyway, there might be a part two with smut.

[kurizz]

Pink Poly Club (miromabby)

Summary: It's what happens after Huntrix and Saja boys' joint fansign event. Mira is annoyed at the trending hashtags online, she sees their fans shipping her with SB Romance and Abby. Their manager, thinking it'd be a good idea, organized another joint fansign event the next day.

Word Count: 773

-----

Mira snatched Bobby's phone out of his hands, fuming at the edited pictures she saw. "What's this? Pink Poly Club? No way am I being lumped in with those boys!" She handed the phone back.

Zoey was internally squealing.

"Me and Mystery? Like—" She caught the scary look on Mira's face and quickly backtracked. "I mean, ew, why? He's so NOT my type."

With an exasperated sigh, Mira ran a finger through her hair.

"Should I just dye my hair a different color? Ugh, like hell I would. Why’d they have to have the same color as me?"

"You look better anyway!" Zoey encouraged, flailing her arms. "Don't let them get to you. I’m not letting Mystery get to me, too... although, he is kind of my type—I mean, who said that!"

Bobby tried to get a word in, but the girls were too busy complaining. He didn’t even know where Rumi had gone—she’d just suddenly left. It wasn’t rare for the girls to get chaotic, but that didn’t make it any easier.

"But isn’t this great? It’s what the fans want. Maybe it’d be a good idea to have another one tomorrow..." he trailed off, thinking it might not be such a bad idea.

Oh well. Why not?

And so, here they were: another Huntrix x Saja Boys fansign event, with the same seating arrangement as yesterday. The fans were coming in hot—it even looked like there were more of them this time. Some wore miromabby shirts and held up edited ship posters.

"Hey, it’s nice seeing you again." Romance wrapped his arms behind Mira’s chair, leaning slightly at her side. From the corner of her eye, she could see some fans going wild. She ignored him and looked the other way—only to find Abby already staring. He grinned in that boyish charm of his, also leaning in close. "Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but here we are."

Her heart skipped a beat but she snapped out of it, shaking her head. She faced forward and shoved both guys' faces away from her. The fans were in a ruckus, and she couldn’t understand why.

With furrowed brows, she greets the first fan that comes up. Great, he's wearing a miromabby shirt.

"Cool shirt you got there. I don't remember taking it though." Abby commented, giving the guy a thumbs up.

Of course, he doesn't remember. It was clearly fake. A photoshopped picture of them with the two guys wrapping their arm on Mira's shoulders and she just had to be in the middle.

She furiously signed another fans poster, but doesn't forget to smile and thank them after. Abby and Romance won't stop staring at her and taking up her space.

"Can you two not?" Mira muttered under her breath.

Abby straightened with a dramatic sigh. "I don't like the number two. Let's be three instead."

"Oh my god," Mira groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I’m going to lose it."

Romance leaned back in his chair. "Can’t blame us nor the fans for having good taste."

"You do make a good centerpiece for a love triangle," Abby added.

Heat crawled up to her face and she glared at them both.

"Go bother someone else," she snapped, grabbing a sharpie and aggressively signing the next fan’s poster. The poor girl looked simultaneously thrilled and terrified.

Abby pouted, "Why would we? Don't wanna."

A sudden squeal erupted from the line of fans. A group of them were holding up a massive printed banner: "MiRoMAbby FOREVER 💖"—complete with photoshopped wedding photos and glittery pink text.

Zoey peeked over. "Whoa. That’s, like, next-level editing. I almost believed it was real."

"Don’t say it out loud! They’ll think it’s encouragement!"

These people had Mira stressed out. She glanced at the other end of the table where Rumi and Jinu was in. It was impossible to spot Rumi from the way Jinu was blocking her view with his back. Why's that guy all over her?

"You really should be focusing," Romance took her hand that's holding the pen and guided it to sign the next poster. Their fingers interlocked.

His hand was warm, and it was creeping up to her body. Romance doesn't let go. He stared at her face, taking in the faint blush on her cheeks despite her frown.

"Hey..." He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, "You should come with us after this."

"Shut up." She whispered back harshly, hating how her heart was now beating wildly.

Abby twisted his finger on her hair, playing with it softly. "Pay me some attention too, Mira."

Oh, someone help her.

________

click for part 2

________

first time I posted here. i had the sudden urge and here we are. that's my short contribution to this ship. might write more.

also, idk but huntrix songs>>>saja boys songs for me. their vocals are insaneeee. gotta give my girls more love cus what. their songs on repeat 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

[julessuretries]

Seeing people call Ragatha an "abuser" post episode 5 is actually insane to me because for me, episode 5 singlehandedly sold me on her character, whereas before I was kind of apathetic.

She's not "toxically positive" - she's just got some sort of fawn response given her mommy issues and feels like she needs to be "well-behaved and proper" in order for people to like her.

One of my closest friends from college was exactly like this and it was hard to see them go through the recurring issue of being unable to break past surface-level acquaintanceships with people precisely because they were "too nice". Like, do you know how uncomfortable it is to have to explain to someone they'd probably have an easier time connecting with people if they, just, stopped being overly helpful? It's a really weird conversation to have: like, am I actually encouraging this person to be worse? I kid you not at one point I think I actually said "you'd be better of if you were meaner", but, like, no one else was willing to say it and he was desperate so I guess I had to.

But unfortunately the only person who'd ever be bold enough to do that in the show is Jax (because he's literally already done it) but it's hard for Ragatha, or anyone, for that matter, to take any advice he gives sincerely even if he's kind of right because he's already such a jerk (and might be projecting some of his own mommy issues if we're being honest).

Looking back at the pilot, Ragatha's behavior towards Pomni seems all the more depressing. She literally pounced on the opportunity to befriend Pomni from minute one because newcomers are rare and I imagine she's been lonely for a very long time. Which is why seeing Jax do a better job bonding with Pomni gets under her skin because from her perspective she's put in way more effort and therefore deserves her friendship more. That's obviously a very transactional and problematic way of viewing relationships, but isn't surprising given what we've learned about her upbringing. She's likely been taught that love is something that can be earned with enough effort and is now reaching her limit having to come to terms with that not being the case.

The best things in life come free. Genuine connections have to form naturally. While I'm not totally convinced that Jax is being fully honest in his attempts to befriend Pomni, I do think he understands something that Ragatha doesn't. People want to be friends with people they can relate to and trust. And even if Pomni isn't a jerk like Jax, she at the least can rest assured she's seen the worst of him, whereas Ragatha could reveal her "real self" at any time. It's about taking a calculated risk - even if Ragatha deep down is still a nice person (which I personally think she is), there's no way for anyone else to know that for sure. It's less risky to be friends with people who are more open about their flaws than with someone who feels like they could crack at any moment and you'd have no idea what would spill out.

Ragatha is a really tragic character but also so incredibly real. Unfortunately even if she did decide to be more "genuine" with who she was as a person she'd still have a long journey ahead of her, since I'm not very convinced she even knows who she is.

Wow this episode was good.

“We need more complex female characters”

YALL COULDNT HANDLE HER

It’s crazy that her character flaw is thinking that if she ever expresses a negative emotion everyone will dislike her and yall immediately proved her right. Goddamn.

[lunarcrown]

Odd request here...

Jimpulse art

Plz

Yknow what? Hell yeah!!! Summer cuddle nap time plus BONUS: impulse pulls his claws out to give some truly stellar wing scratches, knocks Jimmy clean out 💤💤💤

Plus bonus mini drabble by @opalwhisker under the cut bc she was inspired by the sprit of jimpulse HAHA

It was a gloriously perfect day outside. Sunny and warm, but not too hot thanks to a nice cool breeze in the air... the perfect day for a nap in the shade, which exactly what Impulse and Jimmy were doing.

Impulse, Tango and Skizz had all planned a fun day filled with activities for when Jimmy was going to visit the Hermitcraft server, but things rarely ever go to plan and Tango and Skizz had to dip away for a moment to take care of a few things, leaving just Impulse to entertain Jimmy.

Impulse obviously knew Jimmy fairly well after all the life series they'd played in together, but he'd still never had much one-on-one interaction with him before, so his initial attempts at conversation were a little stilted and awkward. He liked Jimmy and thought he was pretty cool and fun to be around... and if he was being honest, Impulse might admit he had a bit of a man crush on the handsome blonde man.

Fortunately, despite Impulse's awkward attempts at conversation, they found themselves slipping into comfortable conversation fairly quickly. Jimmy's smiles and giggles directed right at him had Impulse feeling a little funny, almost as if he were a schoolgirl talking to her crush. But how could he not feel like that when someone as handsome as Jimmy was paying attention to him and no one else in that moment? It felt like they were the only two players on the server when Jimmy spoke to him like that.

"Say, Impulse...?" Jimmy started hesitantly, "I know you 'n Skizz 'n Tango planned out this whole day for when I visited but, uh, since we have a moment, d'y'think we could maybe just... lay on a blanket in some shade and take a nap? That last round of Hungry Hermits really wore me out." Jimmy smiled apologetically and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking expectantly at Impulse with those beautiful brown eyes.

"Oh, sure! Yeah, of course, Jimmy! That sounds like a great idea! Here, lemme grab a blanket for us..." Impulse reflexively took Jimmy's hand and led him over to the shade of the nearest tree, rummaging through his ender chest before pulling out a large blanket and laying it on the grass. He put away the ender chest and knelt on the blanket, patting the ground next to him to invite Jimmy to lay down, which the avian happily did, flopping back onto the blanket with a relieved sigh.

"Ohhhh yeah, that's the stuff...." Jimmy heaved a big sigh and closed his eyes, leaving Impulse to fidget a bit by himself, unsure if he should lay down next to Jimmy or just stay as he was.

"...Well? Are you gonna lay down or what?" Jimmy cracked one eye open to look at Impulse, "You were gonna take a nap with me, right?"

"Oh!" Impulse felt his face flush at Jimmy's words, "I uh, wasn't sure if that's what you meant, or--"

"'Course its what I meant! Now get your butt over here, its absolutely perfect nap weather." Jimmy smiled so warmly at him, Impulse couldn't refuse his request, sliding down to lay next to Jimmy on the blanket, close but still a respectful distance between them. Jimmy seemed unhappy about this.

"Do I stink or something? I thought we were going to take a nap _together._" Jimmy pouted, "What's a nap without a bit of cuddling?"

"Well, I guess you're right... naps are better when youre cuddling!" Impulse giggled, trying to mask how flustered he felt that Jimmy expressed a desire to cuddle with _him._

"Of course they are, now get over 'ere!" Jimmy motioned Impulse closer, and the demon hybrid scooted closer until Jimmy could nestle into Impulse's side, resting his head on Impulse's shoulder while Impulse wrapped his arm around Jimmy's body, his hand resting in the bright yellow feathers of Jimmy's wings.

Impulse hoped Jimmy wouldn't be able to hear how hard his heart was beating in his chest at their proximity. Jimmy was so close Impulse could smell the scent of his shampoo in his hair and feel Jimmy's breath tickle his collarbone.

"Ohhh yes this is nice~" Jimmy sighed, practically melting in Impulse's arms, "I always wondered if cuddling with you felt as good as it looks and now I can say that it's even better~"

Impulse was too stunned at the compliment to respond, his cheeks flushing even hotter at the compliment. He was sure Jimmy had to be hearing his heart pounding against his ribcage at this point and must just be teasing him to hear it flutter some more.

"The only thing that could make this better is... y'know, if you wanted to, maybe run your fingers through my feathers? It always feels so nice and relaxing when someone does that...." Jimmy peeked up at Impulse with those cute brown eyes and there was no way Impulse could resist.

"If--" Impulse cleared his throat when the first word came out more high pitched with nerves than he'd wanted it to, "If you want, yeah I-- I can do that..."

The effect was almost instant as soon as Impulse began to card his fingers through Jimmy's soft, golden feathers. The avian hybrid shivered and sighed, melting against Impulse even more, closing his eyes and seeming lost in the calming sensation. His breathing slowed and for a moment Impulse thought he'd fallen asleep and stopped running his fingers through Jimmy's feathers, eliciting a breathless, pleading whine from Jimmy that gave Impulse pleasant goosebumps.

"Noooo please don't stop.... it felt so nice...." Jimmy pouted. "I haven't had someone run their fingers through my feathers like this since the last time Tango did it... oh his claws felt so nice running through them..." Jimmy sighed, lost in his reminiscing for a moment before remembering who he was cuddling with, "Oh! I mean. You're doing a great job too, Impulse! Tango's just got those claws that run through my feathers differently..."

"I mean... if you like it, I could use my claw for you, too." Impulse offered shyly, trying not to blush. What was he doing? He liked Jimmy, but he wasn't close enough with him to know how he might feel about Impulse relaxing more of his glamor around him. Normally Impulse wouldn't even consider something like that until he was more confident that whoever it was wouldn't get scared of him afterwards. There was just something about Jimmy... Impulse wanted to do everything he could to make him happy.

"You... have claws?" Jimmy glanced between Impulse's face and free hand with a bit of confusion, "I didnt know you had claws, Impulse."

"O-oh, um, yeah... usually i keep them hidden with magic, I've found that people are less scared when I hide them.... _Anyways-_" Impulse cut Jimmy off just as he was opening his mouth to respond to Impulse's comment, "I can undo the magic that keeps them hidden if you want..." Jimmy frowned for a moment, noticing Impulse's evasion of the topic, but choosing not to press further.

"If that's okay with you.... yes, please that sounds so nice!" Jimmy smiled so cutely at him Impulse felt his heart jump into his throat for a moment.

"Okay then, then, just close your eyes and I'll-"

"Actually... could I... see? Your claws I mean. If its okay with you!" Jimmy nibbled his lower lip a bit anxiously, "I promise I won't be scared or anything!" He hastily reassured Impulse.

"Well..." Impulse hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should let Jimmy see, but the avian puppy dog eyes won him over in the end. "Sure, if you want to see, that's fine."

Impulse smiled and Jimmy beamed back at him, his face alight with excitement as he cuddled even closer, resting his head against Impulse's chest and twining their legs together.

Impulse lifted his hand up for Jimmy to see as he slowly undid the glamor that hid his claws, the illusion melting away to reveal his claws and scaled hand, the tough, scaly skin running up his entire forearm.

_"Oh. My. Gosh!!"_ Jimmy squealed, "That is so cool!! Impulse, your claws are so pretty!"

Impulse could feel himself blushing ten times hotter at Jimmy's compliments, his heart racing again at the genuine expression of appreciation and Jimmy's proximity. Evn Impulse couldn't keep his tail from instinctively curling around their legs possessively, his tail tip flicking back and forth in a pleased motion as Jimmy grabbed Impulse's hand to examine his claws and scales up close.

With this perfect weather, cuddled up to someone who makes his heart flutter and is actually admiring a part of himself Impulse usually hid from the world... it was completely perfect. Impulse wished they could stay like that forever in the comfort of each other, but knowing that it wouldn't be forever only made that intimate moment something he savored even more in the moment.

[lighting-and-shadow]

Ikigai, Part 10

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 9

Your power’s been strange since that day you heard the melody. You haven't had the joyous occasion of it coming back into your life and your ears, but your heart still yearns for it, calls for it. You try not to dwell on it. That want, that need, takes backstage for the oddities that have been popping up since it first whispered in your ear.

Like now. You know Miss Hunter’s in danger even before the alarm attached to the earrings you gave her go off. You feel the dread in your heart, feel it fill your empty and lonely soul. The sheer volume of that feeling jolts you awake.

Sylus slumbers beside you. He insisted, worry lacing his voice and his hand gently brushing your cheek when he asked you to stay. The look in his eyes is what pushed you to do so. They were inquiring about your relationship, about where you stand after all that's happened.

You should’ve put your foot down. You should’ve kept your distance. Your mind told you so. Your heart didn’t listen, once again.

So you two share a bed again, entangled in each other’s embrace. Sylus’ fast heartbeat syncs to yours. His every breath is the most comforting soundtrack you’ve ever experienced.

Or, it used to be. Nothing could compare to the sound of your beloved being fast asleep until your heard that piece. That song of the stars, that hymn of the universe, is the best thing that’s ever had graced your ears. You hunger to hear it again.

And maybe that selfish wish is why you rush out of bed. You long to hear it again. Because that time, enveloped in that beat, is probably the only time in your life you’ve ever been at true peace. The only time you’ve ever truly belonged.

Miss Hunter is the key to that, and you haven’t seen her in some time, making room for her to bond with Sylus. You’ve pushed both of them into each other’s arms (ironic given that you still let yourself sleep in Sylus’).

That’s what you’ve assumed, anyway. Neither of them have told you anything of the sort. Sylus just spends more time in Linkon and Miss Hunter talks about him in a better light when you two text.

Feels like a husband trying to hide a mistress from his wife with the way they sneak around. And said mistress is her friend.

The mere thought makes you want to vomit. To expel that thought and all others that could follow from both your mind and stomach.

Stop it, you tell yourself as you unceremoniously wiggle your way out of a sleeping Sylus’ embrace. There’s nothing between you two, and everything is right between them.

Your rush, oddly enough, isn’t what wakes your boss. He eyes only shoot open the moment your warmth completely leaves his.

“Where…?” His voice cracks a bit, and he constantly blinks his eyes in the struggle to keep them open.

You wonder, in this moment, what you would do if two really were together. If he really was your husband like so many assume. If he really was yours and not someone else’s.

Would he coax you back into his arms, kissing the back of your neck and mumbling nonsense? Would you two play a game of back and forth, to see who will get up or who will go back to sleep? Or would he simply just wrap his arms around your waist like at the gala a few weeks ago, kissing you everywhere in order to wake himself?

Just the idea flusters you. So flustered that your first attempt on putting on a shirt is one that’s inside out and backwards. You quickly remedy this, glancing back at Sylus as you put the shirt back on right.

He doesn’t even flinch at the brief sight of your bare back. Understandable. You’ve seen him practically naked (except for a towel he haphazardly put on). He’s seen almost every inch of you, bandaging and stitching you back together in more ways than one.

What I wouldn’t give for him to take me apart in the best way possible?

Everything is so very, very hot again.

“Go back to sleep, Morana,” you whisper to him, not going back near the bed in fear you’d do something stupid like kiss him. “Something came up. I’ll handle it, and you call you after I do.”

“Alright,” he yawns. “Come back to me soon.”

You almost cry at his words.

“Be sure to tell the boys. You know how they worry about you.”

You nod, sending a quick text to your group chat with Luke and Kieran (the two menaces named it “When Mom Needs to Shit Talk Dad”) before you head out to your motorcycle.

You don’t check your phone for her location. Something tells you Skyhaven is the place. And another thing tells you that your world is about turn upside down.

As you drive, you soon don’t even need instinct for the former of your ideas. Because Miss Hunter’s thread appears, like the red guiding light in some video game. You know it’s hers because the stories it weaves are hers. The explosion. Her entry into the N109 zone. And some childhood memories she’s told you about.

But this isn’t Sylus’ connection to her that’s leading you. It’s someone else. A boy who’s been by her side for ages. A boy whose death drove her into your life and Sylus’.

You don’t quite see who this boy—man—is. Or maybe you and even Miss Hunter’s very soul are blocking him out. His blurry image conjures confusion, anxiety, betrayal, and layers upon layers pain.

You drive faster.

—

It’s surprisingly easy to find Miss Hunter. Pulling a few (sometimes literal) strings with members of The Fleet, a nice smile here, and a bit of manipulation there, and you find her. She appears to be in a nurse’s uniform, something that gives you pause. What makes you unpause is the aggressive man whose hands are on her.

His appearance flickers, much like Sylus’ did on that fateful day you first met him. Except his doesn’t bounce between dragon and human. No. For this man, you sometimes see a black bandage cover his eyes, and gold running down his body. Said body also becomes engulfed in black machine parts, and you hear them turn even when you’re some distance away.

He looks so much like Alex did that day years ago. Gold instead of silver runs across his metallic body and he lacks the powerful weapon they clutched in their hand. But the same emptiness is there. That same blank slate that hums with a power you want nothing to do with is there.

The difference between this man and Alex though is that he is still alone. He’s still someone’s pawn, and is willing to stay that way for the sake of the woman he loves.

Alex would never be in this position. Their family situation may be complicated, but Kai will never stand for it to escalate. She never allows her spouse’s family to have their way.

The man with cold violet eyes doesn’t have that. He stands a bastion between Miss Hunter and a horrific fate you don’t even want to think about. He stands between her and an evil that you can see in his thread.

Ever.

You hoped to never hear that name again. To never remember the scientists that poked and prodded at you when no sign of a soulmate came in at the expected age. You wonder if they told him about you. You wonder if you’re going to get dragged back into the strange rooms with the strange devices again.

You wonder if your rescue mission is about to become a failed one.

You call out Miss Hunter’s first name. She turns to you, and the military man finally acknowledges your presence. She runs to you, and you shuttle her behind you.

Calm yourself.

You take deep breaths, watching his thread like a hawk, dissecting each little notch and every little twist to find something to exploit. You don’t want to be near this man that represents everything that makes your skin crawl any longer than you have to.

“Apologizes, ummm?” You trail off, laughing at yourself. “I’m sorry, what’s your name? My friend here didn’t mention you in her report.”

“Report?” Is all that comes out of his mouth. His words are devoid of anything. No inflection. No feelings. Nothing.

Your blood runs cold. Miss Hunter hands begin to grip the back of your shirt. She trembles.

“Yes, yes. Her report. The Hunter Association did send her to investigate some things, correct?” The man makes a notion for you continue. “When she submitted it, it was decided by her boss that I’d come and pick her up.”

“The Fleet wasn’t informed about any such development.”

You figured as much.

“I didn’t think the retrieval of one hunter needed to be told to them. The Fleet is busy enough as it is. Adding more paper work and things to sign for us to get one of our own seems foolish, does it not?”

You hate staring at those dead eyes of his. But it’s the only way to get his attention. The only way for him to believe your words and let the two of you go.

But you can hardly focus on getting your words out. There’s something wrong with this man, something mechanical. Something that’s burrowed so deep within him that it messes with him on a fundamental level.

It’s not enough to change his soul, thankfully. You can still see his worry, even if it’s not on his face. You can still see his love for Miss Hunter, even if he doesn’t show it.

So you keep your eyes on his, and hope to the universe that your abilities and your voice are enough to get away.

“Than may I ask why the Association needs her, given the state she’s in and the fact that you didn’t inform us she was to be sent back to Linkon so early?”

“I’m afraid a stranger isn’t privy to such information.”

“Colonel Caleb Xia,” he sticks his hand out for you to shake it.

You take it, and give him your name.

“Now that we’re not strangers, answer my question.”

His attitude is grinding your gears. His attitude, the fear he's giving Miss Hunter, and just the wrongness about him makes you snap inside.

“Well, Colonel,” you’re more harsh with your tone now. “I don’t see why I should. You did not inform the Association of her injuries. You did not inform us that she would be taken on a private airship, forced against her will for treatment, and then hunted down like an animal when she made the reasonable assumption you wouldn’t let her leave and try to escape. I don’t owe a brute like you jack-shit, let alone answers.”

You stick out an arm to further shield Miss Hunter. This seems to rattle the Colonel a bit. So you push further.

“The way you speak to me gives me the impression that you’re suspicious of me. Which is ironic coming from a man that’s meant to be dead.”

Miss Hunter flinches at your words. You use your other hand to soothe her, and even your powers brush against her very soul to calm her. You hate to shake her so much. But using these words, using his own guilt against him, is probably the best chance you have of leaving here.

“Some things came up. Things that you don’t need to know.”

He steps closer to you.

“Ah. So we both have our secrets, don’t we?” You get in his face. “Only mine doesn’t cause my friends great distress.”

His emotionless mask finally cracks a little. Just a smidge. But his thread tells you of mountains and mountains of guilt. Of how it hurts to see the woman he loves so scared of him.

You don’t give a shit. Sure, you almost pity him a bit. But Miss Hunter’s shaky hands on your back, and the reminder of the love you know she deserves from Sylus kills that pity in seconds.

If anything, his cruelty is just another reason you’ll make sure he never has her. It’s just another reason for you to drive her into Sylus’ arms and break your heart again.

“It’s just a misunderstanding.”

The cliche words make you want to strangle him.

“I’d hate to know what kind of misunderstandings you’ve had in the past, Colonel, to think that any of what you’ve done is acceptable.”

“And what exactly is it that you think I’ve done? You just got here, Miss,” the way he says your name makes you all the angrier.

“I have eyes, Colonel. I know a terrified woman trying to escape from a domineering man when I see one.”

You hope flat-out calling him an abuser will get Caleb to back down. Because you know he’s doing all this with good intentions. He doesn’t want to hurt Miss Hunter. He doesn’t want to scare her.

Too bad the pathway to hell is paved with good intentions. Too bad he’s one of those people who refuse to see and acknowledge when they’re wrong.

“How did you find us?” He ignores your comments altogether.

Fine. I’ll play your game.

“By asking around. People are surprisingly agreeable to what you want when you’re not demanding or controlling. Right, Colonel?”

His face scrunches at your implications.

“I wouldn’t know. My job is to command or listen to orders. I do not ask for permission.”

“You know, every word out of your mouth makes me wish you stayed dead.”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your lips. You don’t really mean them. Not truly. Any family or goodness for Miss Hunter is something you’ll celebrate.

Even if Caleb is something that somehow falls into those categories. Even if the man you'll never allow her to truly be with is one of those people.

He’s caused so much pain. So much anguish in her threads and turmoil in her mind. The normally confident and headstrong hunter is silent behind you. Her soul begs for her to run.

You want to turn around and hug her. Give her a shoulder to cry on. To ease her mind while you plot with Sylus how to fuck up the lives of anyone who’s ever hurt her. You want to save her, protect her.

And the more these emotions boil, the more you wonder. Is this the influence of that song? Or is this just what it means to be so beloved by the universe? That even someone like you is drawn into her orbit, ready to give up the man you love for her in a heartbeat?

Once again, your selfish heart wonders if she and all the love the world wants to give her, is the reason you have no love at all.

“Harsh words from someone who just met me,” the Colonel’s quip drags you out from the depths of your self-hatred.

“You’ve just made that bad of a first impression on me.”

“What did I do to do that?”

“You do not want me to answer that.”

The Colonel and you say nothing to each for some time, just staring the other down.

“We really must get going. We have things to attend to, as I’m sure you do as well.”

You turn to try and leave, guiding Miss Hunter to walk in front of you, but Caleb grabs your wrist.

“Unhand me this second, or so help me, Colonel I will make you wish you stayed dead and buried.”

He lets go. You and Miss Hunter return to your old stance of her behind you while you face her childhood friend.

“She’s injured.”

“I’m aware.”

“She can’t work like this.”

“I’m also aware of that. I’ll treat her once we’re back in Linkon and she’s in a comfortable space.”

“She needs rest.”

“And she’ll get it. Away from you. Believe or not, there are others that care for her as well and can do so without violating her autonomy.”

“Why do you need her specifically?”

His change of topic doesn't go unnoticed by any of you. Once again, you play along.

“As I said before, it’s none of your business, so I won’t go into the details. All I will tell you is that her resonance Evol is needed for some investigative work.”

You pause, staring deeper into those cold eyes and his frantic thread.

“And, she has a capable partner that will look after her during this process. She won’t even have to lift a finger.”

“You?”

You almost snort. While you may have cynically thought of joining the Hunter's Association out of spite, you'd never truly consider it. Too... perfect for someone as broken as you. Too bright, too kind, too messy, too secretive, too—

It's just too much. Too much for you and your bloodstained hands and soon-to-be broken heart.

“Oh heavens, no. Not me. I’m not the fighting type,” you can hear Sylus and the twins cackle in your mind as you say this.

You may not like fighting, but everyone in Onychinus knows you can be deadly in one if need be. And some of your opposition actually fears you more than Sylus because of that. Because Sylus’ power is tangible, you can see his energy Evol as it snuffs a life out.

But no one can see it when you pull a thread out of someone’s heart. Or twist their very soul into oblivion. Or choke the life out of them with their own connection to their soulmate.

Your mystery is your greatest weapon. And it’s another reason you tell yourself not to divulge your secret ever again.

“Than how can I trust this mysterious partner if they don’t have the decency to show up themselves?”

Shit.

You gather yourself quickly. You need to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Your trust in my words are irrelevant. I don’t need your permission to take her anywhere, I’m just giving her childhood friend who’s worried about her well-being the curtesy of being told such information. I’m not leaving you in the dark.”

Caleb’s mask once again wavers, so you push more.

“I’m not leaving you frightened of the unknown and nor am I strong-arming you into doing what I want with my authority. I’m having a conversation with you in hopes you’ll see things from my point of view. And I’m not ignoring your clear discomfort nor your fears.”

“And what is it you think I’m afraid of?”

“That you’ll lose her again. Or they’ll get their hands on her.”

You know that’s the right thing to say when the Colonel’s hand begins to hover over his waist, where you assume his gun is. His eyes go dead again. Cold. Bottomless. All consuming.

Just where you want him.

“You think you two are the only ones they’re hunting? You think she’s the only one they’ve ever obsessed over?”

You hate yourself for this. For putting this information into his hands, their hands, again. Because you became a ghost once you entered the N109 zone. You disappeared from their grasp because the old man in charge of the Zion Hunt knows better than to blab about you.

It was your wish from him when you won his little competetion during your first year with Sylus. It was the wish and deal you made with him, his very soul the price should he ever break it. Whether it was you or Sylus that would come to collect, you hope to never know.

Because you were dead to Ever. And it was supposed to stay that way. But for her, and for Sylus, you’ll come back. You’ll put yourself back under their radar in hopes they’ll chase you and not her.

And while you’re at it, maybe you can save the Colonel as well. You may hate who he is right now, but you're curious about the boy he used to be. The boy Miss Hunter loves like family. The boy he was before Ever broke him like they broke you.

“You aren’t,” you continue. “In fact, I think the Professor loved me most of all before I left him.”

“Why?”

He’s still tense. Still ready to end your life and forcibly take Miss Hunter away. But you know where to strike. You know because his thread tells you he’s heard about you. About the strange little girl with no soulmate but with the power to see others, to touch others, to manipulate others.

Seems the Professor still remembers me.

You still remember him. You still remember how him and Josaphine and all the others treated you. You still remember the many tests, the files you read, and all the injections they gave you before your family sent you off to school that same day like nothing happened.

You still remember the adrenaline and joy that coursed through your veins the day you finally ran from it all. That same adrenaline pumps now at the thought of going back.

But you’d do it for her. For them. And hopefully, they’ll all forgive you for it.

“Because I turn everything we’ve ever known about humanity and love upside down.”

Bullseye.

Caleb lowers his hand to his side, no longer ready to shoot you. Because now he realizes you’re just like him, just like Miss Hunter. Another one of the Professor’s runaway “children”. Another one of his pawns that never wants to see him again.

“And do you know what my parents told me each time they took me to him?”

“What?” He asks the question breathily, shaken to his core despite how the chip in his head tries to stop him from feeling.

You pull at his literal heartstrings, at his soul, to bypass the machine. The power of universe itself is far more potent and compelling than some man-made computer.

“That it was for my own good,” that hits Caleb harder than any of your other words, and you scoff when you say it. “Selfish words by selfish people who refuse to admit when they’re wrong. When they refuse to see how they hurt the people they claim to love.”

Miss Hunter burrows deeper into your back. You twine your power into her threads to soothe her, since you can’t physically do it right now.

Her friend Caleb, on the other hand, seems to have been shattered. As if the weight of his actions has hit him. He doesn’t show it on his face or in his eyes, but in his thread. In the thread tied to the very woman who he scared so much.

“You love her, don’t you?”

No response.

“So why continue to hurt her as you do? Why continue to be like my parents and do something that she clearly doesn’t want and is only causing harm?”

“Because it’s a misunderstanding.”

“We already went over this, Colonel,” you’re gentle with your tone now, empathy bleeding into every fiber of your being.

I’ll get you out next, you tell yourself. I’ll get you and all the rest away from that man I should’ve killed years ago.

“But how about I put it another way? How do you expect me to believe you, who disappeared from her life once already and is now back and causing her pain, to be a better place for recovery than a place where everyone loves her and respects her ability to take care of herself?”

Once again, the Colonel doesn’t show how much of a gut punch your words are. You are a stranger, after all. And he’s been literally programmed to suppress how he feels.

So you tug at the string only you can. You tug on the connection on you can feel and twist and exploit. And he starts to feel it all. His guilt. His piles and piles of insecurity. And how maybe, just maybe, all you’ve been saying is right.

It’s a bit gross to you, to do this to a man who’s already been through so much. But he isn’t your priority. She is. The young woman who cowers behind you. The young woman who put her faith in you.

The young woman that will make the man you love feel whole again. She’s who you came for. She’s who you’ll help. Caleb will have to wait his turn.

“Think about what you’re asking me to do, Colonel, from my perspective. My friend, who I’ve seen be consumed by grief, finally has gets the green light to work again after losing the only parental figure she remembers and the only family she had as well as her home.”

You pause to look his in the eyes and play with his thread more before continuing.

“She goes on said mission, gets heavily injured, and I come to pick her up only to find her on the run from said family member who’s supposed to be dead, and she’s disguised as a nurse as she tries to free herself from him. Would you trust you in my shoes?”

He has no response again, so you deliver what you hope to be the killing blow, “She’s been through so much. Do you really want to make matters worse?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are, Colonel,” you don’t know what compels you to do so, but you lay a hand on his mechanical arm; it takes him by surprise, but since he doesn’t immediately retreat from your touch (and instead leans into it) you count that as a win. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I thought you were here to pick her up for a mission. How does my presence impact that?”

Got you.

While your words may sound like a slip up, you meant it. You meant for him to catch the underlying meanings of your words and press. You meant to reveal this “truth”.

“Alright, you caught me. There’s no mission. She called me directly because she was scared.”

You can feel the panic from Miss Hunter. You squeeze her hand, both to reassure her and as a promise to tell her everything later. Poor girl’s been lied to her entire life. And you understand that confusion and pain from being deceived by so many better than anyone.

The last thing you want is to become another person in that long list for her.

You take a deep, dramatic, breath. “You see, you never quite know how safe you are in this job. Whether it be Wanderers or rival organizations, danger’s around the corner for us Hunters. The explosion at your house made that all the more obvious.”

You pause, squeezing Miss Hunter’s hand again, making sure Caleb saw the turmoil and pain in your eyes. “So I came up with this system for me and her. A way to call each other discreetly and to be sure we’ll get back up from a trusted friend. Regardless of where we were of whether we had our Hunter’s watches. A way for us to protect one another while still respecting each other’s space.”

You don’t quite know what it is this time that gets Caleb to see the light. But something flashes across his eyes, and he finally backs down. You almost let out a sigh of relief. But your professionalism makes you choke it back down.

Don’t waver. You’re not in the clear yet. Not until she’s home and safe.

“I see…” his voice carries the most emotion you’ve heard from him.

You sneakily curl a finger around his thread, tapping into that heart of his that you know still sleeps in his chest. No machine, no stupid little chip, will keep you from reaching it.

So you rub the thread between your fingers. You rub it and make him see the pain he’s causing, the suffering on the woman he loves’ face. You force him to see that feeling and come face to face with the realization that he caused it.

Something shifts in the Colonel. You words coupled with you literally touching his soul get to him in ways he didn’t think possible.

“I see…” he says again, this time, with pain in it.

You finally relax.

“I’ll escort you out.”

Your stomach drops at the mere idea. “No need. I happen to have quite the memory, and can get us out safely on my own.”

“I insist.”

Please don’t.

“Haven’t you done enough damage with your “insisting” already?”

A low blow. But nothing is too low for you to get him to back off. To get away from this man that makes your friend tremble and you uncomfortable.

You don’t know if it’s the machine in his head, the emotionless landscape of his past life, or the way that history of his reminds you of your missing friend Alex. Any one of those could be what ultimately makes you not want to be in his presence.

The Colonel opens his mouth, probably to push his point again, but another voice interrupts him before he can.

“Colonel Xia. What the fuck are you doing?”

The voice comes from behind you and Miss Hunter. It’s female, and a bit scratchy. From disuse or just a natural undertone to it, you don’t know. But something about it compels you to keep your gaze forward. For whatever reason, you can’t bring yourself to turn around.

Miss Hunter can’t either, judging by how she buries her face into your back.

The steps of your savior are anything but comforting. A pit forms in your stomach. A pit that’s familiar.

Death approaches.

Every part of you wants to fight. To fight against what your lizard brain sees as a foe but what your logical one sees as an ally. It’s a confusing storm of emotions. One that gets worse once you see the woman.

She flickers. Just like Alex and Caleb. Just like Kai. Exactly like Sylus, given how her changes are that of horns and a tail.

She’s a fiend.

It’s the first time you’ve seen similar past lives. You’ve seen Lemurians. You’ve seen cyborgs. You’ve seen beings made of flowers and sand. But never two of the same.

Another fiend isn’t something you thought you’d ever see. Another fiend shouldn’t be possible, given that you know Sylus was the only of his kind (a dragon that's too human, and a human that's too much of a monster). Another fiend like him shakes everything you thought you knew.

Who is she?

Caleb, as if hearing your thoughts, answers for you, “Undertaker Rafia. What are you doing here, ma’am?”

The amount of respect he gives this woman shocks you somewhat. The same man who tried to force his own soulmate into compliance, who frightens even you, is on edge by the appearance of one woman.

A woman of tall stature. A bulky, muscular woman. A woman with pitch black hair and the palest skin you’ve ever seen. A woman who was once a fiend.

That same woman stands between you and Caleb, her back still turned to you.

“Why I’m here is irrelevant. You have a ceremony to get to, and if you don’t get your ass in gear, it’ll be your funeral I’m planning next.”

“Ma’am, I��“

“Get to it, Caleb. Before you piss me off more.”

Caleb seems to weigh his options for a second. Before he salutes her and walks off. The tension in your body finally releases. You can breathe now. You can exist now without the weight of the Colonel’s eyes and voice on your shoulder.

“I’ll escort the two of you out. You shouldn’t have any more problems.”

Despite the primal fear her appearance first gave you, you’re grateful. She turns to you, and you open your mouth to tell her thank you, but something makes all words catch in your throat. And you stare.

You stare at Undertaker Rafia, even as Miss Hunter’s hold on you becomes a death grip on you. Not because you’re grateful. Not because you’re in shock.

No. You stare for a reason you never thought possible. You stare because the sight before you shouldn’t be real.

She has no soulmate.

Undertaker Rafia has no soulmate thread. Just. Like. You.

—

You’re 7 and in love with your best friend, the son of mother’s own best friend.

You sit on the couch in the game room of his house, picking at the fraying knitted blanket. Your crush sits next to you, eyes more focused on the pause screen of his video game than you. You don’t mind though. His dedication to his games is one of the reasons you like him.

He’s so excited about them, rambling to you about them with wild gestures while you just sit and listen. He could fill up an entire conversation for you two. You don’t need to say a word. You don’t need to force yourself into the awkwardness of trying to find the right words.

You could just be there with him.

”Sam says you like me.”

You nod.

”So… you do?”

You nod again, still unable to utter a word. Maybe because speaking will make this all too real? Maybe because speaking will make him laugh at you?

You chase that stupid thought away. He’d never laugh at you. He’s always kind with you, offering you his blanket when he’s clearly cold, opening doors for you, listening to your opinions on the rare occasion you can your mouth to form actual sentences.

Your friend treats you so preciously. And it makes you hope and pray you’ll be lucky enough to discover that he’s your soulmate.

”But I’m not your soulmate.”

Your friend tilts his head at you. Your heart falls with the motion. And you force your mouth to move and for words to come out.

You can’t lose him.

”You don’t know that,” you barely manage to mumble.

He takes your hand, toothy grin on his face. A grin that you love and makes you flush and makes you smile the biggest smile in your little life.

”I guess we’ll find out.”

You could cheer.

That all goes away in a few days. Your love? Tossed aside. Your happiness? Dashed. The friendship and the new relationship with a boy you thought like-liked you? Gone.

One day, you’re happy and the sun is shining and the birds are chirping. The next, he’s dumping you.

”I like someone else now,” he says kindly, as if that’ll make the blow hurt any less.

Your mind races. What did you do wrong? What have you done to make him like this, to make him no longer like-like you? Tears gather in your eyes as your chest aches.

You clutch at it. The pain is unbearable. You think your heart is literally breaking, shattering. Thump, thump, thump, it goes steadily. But, the pain, oh the pain, makes you believe otherwise. How else could you explain the piercing stabs in your chest?

You can’t look at your friend. Can’t look at him with his apologetic eyes and sweet voice that tries to calm you down. Can’t look at him with his soft hands that rub your back and familiar clothes that you think look cute on him.

All there is for you is pain. Pain in your chest as you sob and sob and sob. The one person, your person, is leaving you. Abandoning you. When you thought he’d be the only person to ever stay with you.

He’s the only one who sees you in your silence. Where your family teases you and tells you to take a joke, he gives you comforting reassurance of your feelings. Where others tell you to speak up, he gives you space to find your voice. Where the world tell you your heart is too tender and too soft, he tells you it’s a gift to care so much.

He is your rock in the storm. Your everything. The one pillar in your life that makes the house of you stand strong. And now, he’s knocking it down without a care.

And with that, your sorrow turns to rage. At his betrayal. At his abandonment. At anything and everything about him and the embarrassment he’s causing you on this stupid couch you confessed on.

When you look at him, at his chest he’s trying to suffocate you in because the stupid boy thinks that’ll comfort you and mend your heart, you see it. You see this odd red string that shimmers. You push him away. You blink. All sounds are quiet.

The string is still there. Still shimmering, still floating, still making waves from his heart. You're as enchanted by it as you are lost by it. Why is it here? How is it here? What is it?

You just stare. Your friend’s hands still rub your back in vain. Your chest is still on fire. Your eyes still produce tears despite how much it hurts to, despite how much they make you choke and spit and cough.

You cling to the string instead of him. You cling to this mystery. Because every mystery has a solution according to your teachers. Every puzzle has an answer, one that makes sense.

What sense is there to be found in your friend? What sense is there to be found in your own heart?

As if knowing what’s going through your mind, the string calls out to you louder. It compels you stronger. To listen. To touch it. To experience it. So, in your confused and broken heart, you do.

And you see her. An unassuming girl. A girl who didn’t know your friend like you did. A girl who would never give a nerd like him the time of day because all that matters is popularity and talking and peopling and all these other things that just isn’t your friend.

”Is it her? Is she your soulmate?”

The other question slips out before you can stop it. Her name follows shortly after. 

You don’t even need to look at your friend to know the answer. The string tells you. It’s taken his place as your place of comfort. You grasp it in your hands.

Will this leave me too? you wonder.

”What are you doing?” Your friend asks; you barely hear him because no words out of his mouth matter more than this moment.

But his stupid words do tell you something. They tell you he can’t see them.

Am I the only one who can?

Maybe the string is secret you’ve been entrusted with? Maybe it’s your apology from the universe for your broken heart? Maybe it can be your new friend?

Excitement and glee unlike any you've ever felt flood your chest. The strings are yours. They're something no joke, no call to speak up, and no adult can take from you.

It doesn’t vanish when you touch it. It doesn’t leave once you have it in your grasp like your friend is doing now. It sits with you. It speaks with you. And you speak what it tells you.

”You two share dreams, right?” You don’t give your friend time to answer. “Started yesterday, you fell asleep beneath our special tree. She wasn’t at school that day. Fever.”

Your friend has nothing to say, so you continue, “You should give her the blue Jolly Ranchers the next time you two share. She knows they’re your favorite, so she lies and says she doesn’t like them. She also hates the watermelon, you know. But your smile is worth choking them down.”

The more you learn, the more the tears fall from your eyes. Guilt begins to replace your hurt. Your chest still sings with a blaze you can’t put out.

”She actually loves chess and checkers. Guess you have someone new to play with.”

One sob you can’t hold back interrupts you. Image after image that illustrates how perfect she is for him and how perfect you aren't enter your mind. Each one stabs a new hole in your heart.

”She’s perfect for you. So, so perfect.”

You break. You scream. You throw pillows around and toss the blanket that the two of were sharing at a window.

”Why? Why, why, why, why, why?!”

Footsteps rush up the stairs. Their family dog is barking. Your throat hurts. Your voice is scratchy. When was the last time you raised it? Ever?

As your family comes to your side, asking what’s wrong, and your friend looks at you with horrified eyes, you finally whisper, “Why couldn’t it been me?”

The ride home is a blur. Your family’s attempts at comfort are a blur. Everything but your final words to your friend is a blur.

Why? Why couldn’t it been me?

That’s the only thought is your head until you finally fall asleep. As well as when you get to school and spot your friend and his soulmate feeding each other those stupid blue Jolly Ranchers to each other, laughing.

He doesn’t spare you glance. He doesn’t reach out. He doesn’t talk to you. And you, with your new friend in the strings, let him.

Your teacher, however, doesn’t. She pulls you aside after class.

”Did you and,” she says your friend’s name, “get into a fight?”

You nod your head, not looking her in the eyes. Eyes are scary to you. They should say too much according to the books you’ve read. But to you, they say too little.

Now, you have your strings. You have these things no one else can see, but everyone seems to possess. Even your teacher.

Worry makes waves in her sting. Worry and exhaustion. So you cut straight to the point, even as your body begs you to just shut down and wait it out like usual.

”Yes. He broke my heart because he found his soulmate.”

Surprise colors your teacher’s string. After all, you’re a quiet child. One who keeps her eyes glued to the floor and voice barely above a whisper. One who—in some case, quite literally—runs from conflict and the rest of the world.

You don't talk to adults. They never listen anyway, so you stopped a long time ago. So you understand why hearing your voice so clearly and so directly is strange to your teacher.

You await her response, hoping and praying for something good. While you may still hurt from your friend’s abandonment, you got the strings out of it. Maybe an adult will listen and help you for once because of them?

”Oh honey,” anticipation builds within you. “You should be happy for him! He found his one true love… you two were never going to last long anyways.”

The world collapses again. Tears build in your eyes again. But you don’t let yourself cry. You don’t let yourself beg or scream or wail because that didn’t help you the first time. Why would it be different now?

Why did I even hope?

So you turn to her string. You turn to her love because yours is so meaningless and empty and a waste and nothing—

”You get glimpses of your soulmate when you paint, right?”

You just start talking before you can think. Again.

”The color purple comes in pretty often. That, and dolphins. It’s because it’s Mrs. Smith, the math teacher. Did you know she does opera on the weekends because singing gives her glimpses of you?”

Your teacher’s jaw is on the ground. You shuffle away as she tries to recover from what you just said. You wait for your family to pick you up, more hopeless than ever.

The next day, news spreads that your teacher and Mrs. Smith are together. It gets around that a pair of soulmates found each other miraculously after years of unknowingly working together for years. Your teacher tells her, your, story. And the world finally begins to listen to you.

You begin to speak. With so many eyes turning to you, wondering about where you got your information, you tell. You tell them about the threads and what they whisper to you. What they say about others, about their soulmates, about their pasts, and about their loves.

One of your classmates gives you a look. A look you know all too well. A look that resonants in their own thread, which tells you they don’t believe you.

You aren’t even surprised anymore.

But another classmate approaches you after class. Asks about their thread and their other half. And you tell them. To go to a cafe with their parents on a specific day at a specific time. There, they will bump into their other half and be able to share their thoughts with them.

They do so. And another success falls into your lap.

After that, more and more people approach you. Some kids. Some adults. Some old people. Some from school. Some from apparently the other side of the world. All hearing stories and rumors from those you’ve helped.

You tell every time. Despite their clear caution. Despite the glances you now get in the hallway. Despite how the loneliness piles and piles on top of the grave of your old love.

But the final nail in your coffin comes from your friend again. Or rather, from his family. Yours and his are trying to make you two talk again. To make everyone friends again and “keep the peace” as the adults are saying.

You don’t budge. His useless apologies and meaningless sorries bounce right off your ears. Because all you can see is his thread and his memories with her. All you can see is your broken love and his blossoming new one.

So you turn to another thread. Not your family’s because you know them far too well. But his mother’s, the only one who seems to understand you. And you’re floored again.

”Your husband is not your soulmate.”

For the third time, your mind can’t stop your mouth.

”Your bonds are both similar, so you just assumed as much. When you sleep at night, you get your other half’s memories, right? Well, you each got the wrong sibling.”

Chaos ensues. You’re being screamed at by all: your friend, his family, your family, and even yourself. You just retreat into your mind, and into the threads. It’s the one place that can never hurt you.

You family doesn’t hear from your friend and his family for some time. Your own family has been distant from you. You no longer care. All you need are the threads. They’re the only truly loyal thing in your life.

When you do hear from your friend and his family again, you’re greeted by warmth. By joy. By tears of absolute happiness.

”Thank you,” they all say. “Thank you for making us all whole.”

You wonder why. According to everyone, you broke up a family. And according to what you know, that should be bad. So why are you being praised? Why are you being thanked?

Your friend begins to hang out with you again. He becomes your voice again. He gives you snacks and blankets and pillows again. He looks at you with happiness again.

Than it all falls into place when you see him with her. When you see your teachers together. When you see the two new couples that form your friend's family.

Who cares who or what a soulmate’s love hurts? Everything is nothing compared to it.

You think this as you watch your friend play video games with his other half, smiling while you watch with your own wavering grin, heart stitched together by your own resilience and refusal to hurt again.

Author's Note: Also, please go to the original blurb to ask to be added to the taglist (it's impossible for me to keep checking every part every time I update).

2nd Author's Note: This has honestly been the most emotional and personal Ikigai chapter for me to write, since I based part of Reader's past emotional trauma on my own (it's the easiest for me to write and works as therapy, so win-win). I mentioned early on there would be flashbacks, and I wanted to showcase some of her young life and where her mindset came from. I have one more planned—which is coming next chapter—but let me know if you'd like more!

3rd Author's Note: If I wrote and published an acutal novel, would anyone here read it? Because I had a fiction workshop class and I'm so invested with the story I cooked up there!

4th Author's Note: What's your ideal date? I need ideas for a future scene in this series, and would love some more input.

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano, @toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia

[batsandbirdbrains]

To continue my Dick Grayson and Billy Batson bff agenda: what if it’s a young justice au where Bruce knows Dick was actually five instead of eight when he took Dick in. Or, Dick told him after maybe a month or two when he suddenly remembered he wasn’t actually eight. Bruce updates Dick’s documentation right away, but he keeps him home schooled for a few years because Dick is actually a little ahead of his age group.

But maybe Dick had already started going out as Robin before he told Bruce his actual age. He’d met the Justice League members already. Batman told everyone that Robin was eight. And now he doesn’t want to correct them when they continue to think that’s Robin’s age, because he doesn’t want Dick to feel bad, doesn’t want them to get upset with Dick for not correcting them all sooner. Because Dick really had forgotten, it had become so normal for him to change ages that he did sometimes forget what his actual age was. Bruce didn’t want Dick to feel like it was his fault, because he’s just a little boy, he didn’t have a choice.

So they keep up the misconception that Robin started out when he was eight. Bruce only takes him out on kiddie runs once he finds out - it’s just runs across rooftops so Dick has a chance to run and jump around. Get his energy out. Taunt some muggers while Batman does the actual heavy lifting.

Besides, having Robin and Dick Grayson have such different ages does wonders for their secret identities.

But then the young justice team forms, and Dick is ten years old. He’s in school now, a sixth grader at Gotham Academy Middle School. He started attending Gotham Academy the year prior and tested into fifth grade.

The team thinks he’s thirteen. No one knows Batman and Robin’s secret identities other than Superman and Wonder Woman.

But then Captain Marvel comes into the picture, and Batman clocks him immediately as a kid. He has a ten year old himself, he knows what they act like, even if they are a little mature for their age. Batman doesn’t say anything to anyone else, but he pulls Captain Marvel aside one day and asks him about it. Invites him to the Batcave to discuss it.

That’s when Bruce Wayne meets Billy Batson, followed closely by Dick Grayson then meeting Billy Batson. And they instantly click. They’re best friends immediately. Having someone else who has a secret ID about their age is something they bond over right away.

Whether Bruce ends up adopting Billy too or not, Billy is at the manor and the Batcave all the time after that. Dick and Billy play together, they do homework together, they have sleepovers together. Billy wants to be part of the young justice team, but Dick convinces him that he’s better off without the team anyway. He tells him how inexperienced the team is, how they don’t work all that well together.

Dick and Billy decide to go on their own missions as a mini team. Bruce gives them missions he thinks they’d do well on, and they actually work really well together since Billy has started training with them. They’re not going to work as well together as Dick and Bruce do, but that’s because Dick and Bruce have five years of practice working together. Billy is catching up quickly, though.

The team eventually finds out that Robin has been going on missions with Captain Marvel, but Robin shuts them all down when they start whining and complaining. He explains that he works well with Captain Marvel. That sometimes there are missions that require a smaller team.

When they start being mean about Captain Marvel? Robin is furious. He yells at all of them. Then he stomps away to go find Billy so they can go back to the Batcave together.

Then the dimension splitting thing happens with the adults and the kids being separated, and Dick and Billy work together like a well oiled machine. He’s the one who convinces Billy to transform to Captain Marvel, who comes up with most of the plan from the kids’ side of things.

Once things are all back to normal, Robin is standing next to Billy who has changed back into a kid from Captain Marvel, and they’re both a little exhausted. And Batman crushes both of them together as he hugs them, because he’d been so worried about them.

Idk I just them being buddies and Bruce being a doting dad

[glitterfingers]

Started as a silly crush from twelve? Thirteen? years ago. These feelings have existed for more than a decade. I live a quick jeep away from where i last saw you. I still recall your face between my legs in the blue room that December morning. I'm not sorry I didn't stay when you asked, but I regret being scared out of my mind when you requested tulog muna tayo, huwag ka munang umalis. My regrets are few and far between but I'll admit i regret not staying. For you I admit I remain a staunch defender of being absolutely selfish with my heart. I would not have survived you if you lied and pretended to want me when you didn't. But i can live through this pining. Thanks for rejecting the hypothetical but sincere request, for not being an asshole and using me for your ego (the bar is in the lowest circle of hell). After all those years of denying it to myself, you remain a constant ache in my chest. I still dream about you once a year and am hit with obscene longing every time. It would be comical if I weren't so disgusted at how much i want. And I'm so frustrated because it's been four years since I've last talked to you and it's you that i want specifically and only you. The blue room is long gone. That morning exists only in my memories. I've known no peace since. Thought time away would make the desire fade but it only gave the yearning depth. I've tried I've been trying i continue to try to let it go, let the wanting of you go. I endure raw desperation and this version is somehow the most amusing to my other friends, but the worst to you and you're not the cause, i just wish it were easier for me to have been your friend without simultaneously craving you.

But my long term longing is in your shape and the color of your skin and the tattoos you let me bite and how the morning sun hit your eyes and how we made each other laugh and i miss you all the time. How are your parents. What did you think about Senshi's story from Dungeon Meshi. What obscure movie are you going to recommend me now. Let's debate on why you said Junji Ito was for normies. I'll give you some of my tea and you'll thank me. Your friends probably still love you, even though your lives have all evolved, just talk to them. Will you let me kiss you properly just one last time? Don't let me kiss you, i'll probably never want to let go. I still haven't, but I swear I've tried everything I know though. Or do let me. I dont know. I've loved a couple people since the last time i thought i was in love with you. Apparently i cannot framework myself out of desire (who knew), but I've pried away the excess. I can love people without wanting them in my life anymore. Tell your parents you love them before it's too late.

I send a quick prayer for you every year on your birthday, i stopped greeting you because you never sounded like you enjoyed any of it, but it doesn't matter, the prayer is for my benefit, i never forget. I wish i could.

I wanted you before I knew how to be your friend. Maybe now I am paying that price. I like to believe I'm a better friend and lover now too, but we owe each other nothing. I love you anyway. I know you're not happy, but I hope you're content. I hope one day I'll see you out and about and my heart will stop feeling like it'll explode at the sight of your face. I'm a good liar but i know i can't help but look at you with reverence. Is that why you always looked like you knew something i didn't? I wonder what you saw on my face those last few times. I never did know how to covet without sacrificing and carving out a part of myself, but whatever spell you have me on means I've gotten better at loving myself too. I am no longer unhinged by longing and regret and aching. Time and space away from you (and everyone else really) has taught me that i dont need to bleed to prove my capacity to love. That sometimes the best way to love someone is to leave them the fuck alone because it'll be the best for everyone involved.

I'll see you. Probably next year in my dreams again.

Dedicated to the girl who continues to haunt my dreams even though it's been years since we spoke.

erin morgenstern/richard siken/stick season - noah kahan/not a muse: the inner lives of women: a world poetru anthology; "mountain nights" - rati saxena, edited by kate rogers and viki holmes/unknown/ @2j/unknown/do I wanna know - arctic monkeys/dear friend, - dayglow/ @etherealarte/we should be well prepared - mary oliver

[prettygirl-gabi]

Pretty Annoying

Pairing: Azzi Fudd x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: you and Azzi go live to review a PR package….

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav , @liloandstitchstan , @kaliblazin

I should’ve known going live with Azzi while trying on a PR package full of outfits was a dangerous idea. Not because she was chaotic—she was honestly the calm one between us. But because she had a one-track mind when it came to me, and it was always stuck in the gutter.

Still, I had promised the brand I’d do a little live try-on and review, and I figured it’d be cute to have Azzi on with me. Give her some fashion commentary duties. She agreed too quickly.

Our shared apartment had great lighting in the living room, so I propped up my phone on the tripod, arranged the box of clothes beside me, and set a few pieces aside I already knew I wanted to model. Azzi sat cross-legged on the couch in a cropped UConn hoodie and shorts, hair in braids, looking effortlessly fine. She had her iPad ready for chat-monitoring, but I could already tell from her smirk that her attention span would be short-lived.

“Alright,” I said into the camera as people poured into the live, “we’re doing a little PR unboxing slash try-on haul. I roped Azzi into being my personal commentator.”

Azzi raised two fingers in a lazy peace sign. “Hi guys. I’ll be rating her outfits. Totally professionally.”

“She’s lying,” I muttered, pulling out the first piece. It was a silky, champagne-colored mini dress with spaghetti straps. I held it up for the camera. “This looks fire already.”

I ducked into the hallway to change and came back out, adjusting the hem slightly. “Okay, what are we thinking?”

Azzi looked up and went quiet for a beat too long.

I turned to the side, then looked back at her. “Hello? Judge Judy?”

Her eyes flicked up to my face, but she was clearly trying not to laugh. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“The dress, Azzi.”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s…fine.” Her voice cracked mid-word.

“You suck at this,” I snorted, spinning once for the camera, showing how the back dipped low. “She’s drooling, y’all.”

“She is,” someone typed in the chat, and I could see the username: azzisgfclub.

Azzi rolled her eyes and tried to look serious, tapping on the iPad. “Y’all need to behave.”

I went back to change and heard Azzi say into the mic, “She knows what she’s doing,” like I wasn’t in the next room grinning.

The next fit was a two-piece set—a fitted ribbed crop top and matching midi skirt in dusty blue. I walked back out, adjusting the top a little, then posed with one hand on my hip. “Better?”

Azzi looked me up and down and licked her lips before she caught herself. “Mhm.”

“That’s all I get? Mhm?” I asked, smirking at the camera.

“She’s not even looking at the clothes,” someone else commented. “Azzi is analyzing the body.”

Azzi scoffed but said nothing. I watched her trying to keep a straight face and failing.

I walked past her toward the phone to read more comments—and that’s when it happened.

Unintentionally, as I turned to adjust the camera angle, I bent slightly to fix the tripod leg and ended up sticking my butt right in Azzi’s face.

I didn’t even realize what I’d done until I heard the loud smack that echoed on the mic.

“AZZI. JAZLYN. FUDD!” I turned, eyes wide, half laughing, half scandalized.

She just shrugged, eyes twinkling. “It was right there.”

The comments exploded.

“SHE JUST SMACKED HER ASS???!!!”

“Azzi said idc if we’re live 😭😭”

“Y/n: models Azzi: loses religion”

“Nah she’s focused on everything BUT the outfits”

“Azzi is TOUCH STARVEDEEE”

“Y/n gon’ need a new PR package AND new cheeks 💀💀💀”

I covered my face, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. “Y’all are doing TOO much.”

Azzi, smug as ever, leaned into the mic. “They’re not wrong.”

I pointed a warning finger at her. “You’re supposed to be professional.”

“I was trying,” she said, tossing a pillow onto her lap like she needed a distraction. “But then your whole ass came flying into my face, and I made a reflex decision.”

I gave the camera a fake-annoyed look and said, “This is what I deal with. Every day.”

More laughs in the comments. I retreated to change into the last outfit, a sleek black jumpsuit with a deep V and fitted waist. When I stepped back out, I saw Azzi’s eyes immediately drop to my waist.

I was mid-spin when I caught her hand reaching out to tug on the tie at the back of the jumpsuit. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing it. Totally innocent.”

The chat wasn’t buying it either.

“Azzi’s like lemme just—adjust 😏”

“She is FOCUSED. Not on the jumpsuit tho.”

“Azzi you’re embarrassing yourself. (Keep going.)”

I laughed and turned toward her. “You know, you could at least try to look at the fabric, not my ass.”

Azzi tilted her head and said, deadpan, “It’s a really nice ass, though.”

I gasped in mock offense. “That’s not the point of the haul!”

“You’re distracting me on purpose.”

“You agreed to be my judge!”

“I thought I was judging you, not the clothes.”

I stared at her, grinning, as I read more of the comments aloud. “Azzi is drooling. Azzi’s girl looks too good. Azzi is focused on everything but the fashion. Damn, I feel so supported.”

Azzi side-eyed me. “You’re pretty annoying.”

I blinked, playing it up. “Oh my God… you think I’m pretty?”

She groaned, scrubbing her hands over her face. “And that’s the annoying part.”

The chat exploded again.

“AZZI STOPPP THAT WAS SO CUTE”

“PRETTY ANNOYING 😭😭😭”

“Just propose already omg”

“That was the most sapphic hate-to-love moment ever”

I dramatically clutched my chest. “You know what? I’m gonna start doing these hauls solo. Next time, I’ll call Paige.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “She wouldn’t survive.”

I laughed and walked back into frame, grabbing the next piece. “Okay, we’ve got a few accessories left. Can you focus now?”

Azzi looked me up and down again, then shrugged. “I’ll try. No promises.”

Halfway through showing off a bag, she reached up and brushed her hand down my arm like it was nothing.

I looked down. “Ma’am?”

“Just admiring the…uh…texture. Of your skin.”

“The texture?” I deadpanned.

Azzi just grinned, knowing she was caught.

I wrapped up the haul with a final wave to the camera. “Thank y’all for tuning in. This PR haul has turned into thirst hour for Azzi, but we love that for her.”

“Love is a strong word,” Azzi muttered.

I reached down and kissed her forehead. “She loves it here.”

The comments cheered and flooded the screen with hearts and “SHIPPP” and “AZZI IS WHIPPEDDDD.”

Before I ended the live, Azzi leaned into the camera, gave it a mischievous look, and said, “Thanks for watching. She’s mine, by the way.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Possessive much?”

“Pretty annoying, remember?”

And she winked.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[checkeredflagggs]

+1s

Pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: When a member of Logan’s team gets married in Vegas, he invites the new wife and her bff to travel with him as his Williams guests. He didn’t know being a +1 would also see him in love

a/n:this took so much longer than I thought it would…oops 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: made up some names for Williams workers — sorry if you’re actually real

a/n3: this is set in 2023 and I switched Austin and Vegas in the racing calendar

a/n4: sorry this was later than I said — the heat was brutal

Masterlist

Private Messages, Logan and Jon

Private Messages, Logan and Jon (2 hours later)

Private Messages, Wendy and y/n

Private Messages, Wendy and y/n (4 hours later)

Private Messages, Logan and y/n

f1gossip

user1: Vegas just literally became my favorite track

↳user2: where else are we gonna get content like this??

↳user1: right???

user3: bets on who it is?

↳user4: level mode extreme because most of them were partying together…

↳user5: ok time to put on my crazy hat and deep dive — I need to know which driver was crazy enough to get Vegas married

↳user4: ok but no one said it was a driver? Like they specifically said f1 employee which makes me think it wasn’t a driver

↳user5: ohhhh good point good point

↳user3: ok but i need it to be a driver???

user6: I think it’s gonna be a redbull employee

↳user7: reasoning?

↳user6: they have nothing to worry about

↳user7: I can see it

↳user8: i think it’s gonna be a Ferrari employee

↳user9: plot twist it’s both

↳user10: that would be fucking hilarious

user11: other gossip pages are apparently reporting that Logan was spotted leaving the party early

↳user12: DID LOGAN GET MARRIED?!?

↳user13: I can’t believe wtf is a kilometer is married…

↳user14: tbh not the driver I would have bet on but I can see it

↳user13: same

Bluesky

user15: 😂😂😂😂

user16: the tweet format to live in infamy

oscarpiastri: really?

↳logansargeant: shouldn’t have been so funny if you didn’t want us to copy you

↳oscarpiastri: 😒😑

user17: oh my god we really thought that Logan got married

↳logansargeant: really appreciate the faith

↳user17: of course!

↳logansargeant: 😑😑

alex_albon: I had faith in you!

↳logansargeant: thank you Alex

↳lilymhe: he didn’t — he was texting me his theories and you were near the top of the list

↳logansargeant: 👎🏻👎🏻👎🏻

↳user18: oh my god this is the best ever

Private Messages, Logan/Jon/Wendy and y/n

wendy_travel

liked by travel_with_yn, jon_pr, logansargeant, and 827,193 others

tagged: jon_pr

wendy_travel: honeymoon in Mexico 

view all comments

user19: married?!? Girl what

↳user20: oh my god your the girl!

↳user21: what girl?? 

↳user20: the f1gossip page girl! There was a rumor someone in f1 got married in Vegas last week and this is the wife! 

↳user21: oh my god that’s so cute!

jon_pr: paradise with you

↳wendy_travel: always when I’m with you

↳travel_with_yn: cheesy

travel_with_yn

liked by logansargeant, user, user, and 3,824,293 others

tagged: channel, summer_fridays, google

travel_with_yn: traveling in style with my trusted companions! The best to travel with, the best to look good, and the best to find my way!

view all comments

user22: oh my god you always look so good!

↳travel_with_yn: thanks in large part to my summer fridays berry lip gloss!

logansargeant: glad you could come

↳travel_with_yn: thanks for asking!

↳logansargeant: now that you’ve met some of the grid — do we still have the same vibes?

↳travel_with_yn: You? No. The rest? Mostly

oscarpiastri: it was nice to meet you two

↳travel_with_yn: you too!

↳oscarpiastri: now if you could give me my hat back?

↳travel_with_yn: sorry I need it more

↳logansargeant: trash it — I’ll give you a better one liked by travel_with_yn, oscarpiastri

alex_albon: always nice to meet new fans!

↳travel_with_yn: I don’t know if I’d go that far yet…

↳alex_albon: but you were in my garage all weekend?

↳travel_with_yn: cause I was flirting with Lily?

↳lilymhe: loml 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

user23: best Williams guest!

↳user24: it was so fun seeing you on the big screen!

↳travel_with_yn: they definitely got my good side!

↳user25: impossible for you to have a bad one!

Private Messages, Logan and y/n

f1gossip

user26: they look so happy most of the time though…

user27: if you go on YouTube, there’s actual footage of that argument…it’s bad

↳user28: oh my god really?

↳user27: it really is. It goes on for like 20/30 minutes

↳user28: yikes…

user29: girl dump his ass

user30: this is why Vegas weddings never work out

↳user31: really?

↳user32: well spontaneous weddings

user33: i wanna know what rumors are swirling around to get to the gossip page

↳user34: right??? Cause like what’s happening that we can’t see?

Private Messages, Logan and Jon

Private Messages, Wendy and y/n

Private Messages, Logan and y/n

williamsracing

liked by travel_with_yn, logansargeant, and 1,829,293 others

tagged: travel_with_yn

williamsracing: Brazil here we come! And thanks for all the traveling tips y/n!

view all comments

user35: and looking good doing it!

user36: I love Brazil

travel_with_yn: you guys certainly know how to treat a girl right, of course I’ll offer some tips

↳williamsracing: anything for one of our favorite guests

↳user37: ok what do I need to do to get this treatment?

↳user38: idk but I’m laughing that it isn’t the wife of one of their pr people that’s getting the red carpet treatment

↳user37: omg I didn’t even notice. I wonder what Wendy is thinking about it…

↳user39: shes probably too busy fighting with her husband to notice

alex_albon: you guys never post me like this

↳travel_with_yn: skill issue

↳alex_albon: I didn’t sign up to be bullied!

↳logansargeant: it’s a service she offers for free

user50: you guys thought we wouldn’t notice! But we did!  

↳user51: ummmm notice what?

↳user50: that Jon and Wendy (the Vegas couple) spent a lot of the weekend arguing with each other

Private Messages, Wendy and y/n

Private Messages, Logan and y/n

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 682,384 others

f1gossip: Logan on a date? The American driver was seen at a local Austin Japanese restaurant — with an empty but occupied seat next to him

view all comments

user52: that was supposed to be me!

↳user53: or me…

user54: ok are we thinking date date or friend date?

↳user55: I desperately want it to be a date date because I need relationship Logan…

↳user56: on the other hand I need it to be a friend date so I still have a chance!

user57: ok but conspiracy theory time — I think its gonna be y/n!

↳user58: the travel influencer that’s been at the Williams garage lately?

↳user57: ok hear me out first — we know they’ve been spending a lot of time together recently because of Jon and Wendy (Vegas couple who’s their besties)

↳user57: and I’d imagine they’re getting the front row seat to the implosion of their marriage — and having been there, done that — you get close to people also going through it

↳user57: and if you go back through the pictures and videos of Austin and Brazil — they spend a lot of time together in the background

↳user58: …ok you got me

↳user57: just you wait and see

user59: wtf is a kilometer looks so good here!

↳user60: that’s what I was thinking!!

Private Messages, Wendy and y/n

williamsracing

liked by travel_with_yn, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1,213,274 others

tagged: logansargeant

williamsracing: Logan points here in Austin!! We repeat — Logan points!

view all comments

user61: this is everything I’ve ever wanted

↳user62: OUR AMERICAN DID IT!

oscarpiastri: congratulations man

↳logansargeant: thanks!

user63: LOGAN POINTS LOGAN POINTS!!

alex_albon: show ‘em how it’s done!

↳logansargeant: you know it!

user64: caw caw mofos!!! 🦅🦅

travel_with_yn: it was a genuine pleasure to watch you race today

↳logansargeant: you must be my lucky charm!

↳user57: interesting interesting 📝

user65: WOOHOO!!

Private Messages, Logan and y/n

Private Messages, Wendy and y/n

logansargeant

liked by travel_with_yn, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 772,923 others

tagged: williamsracing, alex_albon

logansargeant: as the season comes to a close, I just want to thank everyone at williamsracing for the amazing chance to drive for you. It was a rocky start but we’ll definitely come back stronger next year! With hopefully less excitement at Vegas 😂

view all comments

alex_albon: it was a great time having you as a teammate this year!

↳logansargeant: it was definitely great being teammates!

user66: I’ve only had this American for a season but if something happened to him etc etc

oscarpiastri: first year done, more to come!

↳logansargeant: can’t wait for them!

user67: ok are we all skipping over the last picture or???

↳user68: no no we are not! Logan Sargeant come explain yourself!

↳user57: if I may??

↳user69: you may not!

↳user57: it’s definitely y/n!

travel_with_yn: it was certainly a pleasure traveling with you these last few weeks!

↳logansargeant: excellent

Private Messages, Logan/Wendy/Jon and y/n

travel_with_yn

liked by wendy_travel, logansargeant, user, and 829,439 others

travel_with_yn: no traveling necessary when I’m with you

view all comments

user70: a soft launch?!?

↳user71: not on my bingo card for the year..

↳user70: but I love it!

user57: I’m telling you guys!

↳user72: alright there grandma…

logansargeant: 🩵

↳user73: oh my god!!

logansargeant has posted 3 stories

[back with benny][ Vegas here we come][forever with you yn_sargeant]

user74 replied BENNY!!

user75 replied Benny Benny Benny!!

user76 replied what are you and Benny doing together?!?

travel_with_yn replied oh you look so handsome…

↳logansargeant oh I’m blushing ☺️

oscarpiastri replied are you really going to do it?

↳logansargeant yes

↳oscarpiastri crazy man but good luck

alex_albon replied you’re getting married and you didn’t even invite me???

↳logansargeant 😂sorry but it is a bit of a spur of the moment decision — we’ll have an actual ceremony soon

↳alex_albon good! I’d like to see you and yn again

↳logansargeant …she says she’s excited to see Lily again

↳alex_albon 🙄🙄

user77 replied MARRIAGE?!?

jon_pr replied are you sure?

↳logansargeant I’ve never been more sure in my life

↳jon_pr well at least it’s not a drunk one

↳logansargeant 😂

user78 replied Alexa play that should be me

yn_sargeant replied oh my lovely husband — here’s to forever

↳logansargeant thankfully 😊😊

georgerussell63 replied congratulations 🎉

↳logansargeant thanks man! Be on the look out for an invitation — we’ll be having a real ceremony soonish

wendy_travel replied treat her well

↳logansargeant I will

user57 replied I KNEW IT!!

Taglist

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[sluttywonwoo]

bad influence(s): jeonghan | the bartender

pairing: bartender!fwb!jeonghan x f reader

summary: he's the only reason you ever come to this place

warnings: swearing, alcohol, toxic-ish relationship dynamic, sprinkle of jealousy, lil bit of angst oops?, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: semi-public sex, drunk sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, spitting in mouth, choking, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 3k

“Bunny, wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

You make a face. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“I didn’t think you were serious,” Jeonghan murmurs. “You seemed to like it when I was making you cu-”

If the club wasn’t so crowded you’d grab him by the collar and slam his head on the bar. But since that isn’t an option you settle for threatening to leave. 

“Wait, you just got here! You haven’t even let me make you a drink yet.” 

“Who says I’m here for a drink?”

He smirks. “Oh, I know what you’re here for.” 

“Not here for that either.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “Why, then? Don’t tell me it’s to break things off because the last time you tried to do that you ended up in my bed with your ankles on my shoulders. Besides, if you really wanted to end it you could’ve just texted me.” 

“What is there to end?” you mutter. 

“You wound me.”

“Want me to kiss it better?”

He rests his elbows on the countertop and leans across it, lowering his voice. “You know I do, but I’m closing tonight and last call isn’t for another forty minutes.”

You groan. “What am I doing here then?”

“If you had given me a heads-up I would’ve told you to come by later! Or tried to give my shift to someone else.”

You sigh and turn your back to him, surveying the rest of the crowd gathered on the dance floor. 

“Forty minutes isn’t even that long,” he whispers, “and you came all this way. I’ll take care of you as soon as I’m done. Can’t you be patient?”

“I’m not leaving,” you assure him. “I’m looking for a distraction.”

“A distraction?” You assume, based on the sound of dread that he makes, that he follows your gaze to the bachelor party doing shots at the other end of the bar. “What, you’re going to make me watch you grind on some other guy?”

“No one says you have to watch.”

“I’ll have a bouncer kick him out.”

“I haven’t even picked one yet.”

“I’ll get them all kicked out. Ruin their fucking night, I don’t care.”

You spin around to face him again. “It’s not like I’m going to fuck any of them!”

Jeonghan’s jaw tightens.  

“Unless you take too long….”

“Would it kill you to stay put for half an hour?”

“And be forced to listen to you flirt with the other customers?” 

The smirk returns. Confidence, or arrogance rather, weaves its way back through his posture now that he knows the real reason you’re looking elsewhere. “It’s only for tips. You’re the only one who gets a tip back.”

“Pure poetry,” you deadpan. 

“Just, let me make you a drink,” he pleads, still apprehensively eyeing the same group of men. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Fine,” you huff. 

“Great, what do you want?”

“Mmmm, I’ll do a lemon drop.”

“Do you want it as a shot or a cocktail?”

You take a moment to consider it. “Can I have the shot version in a cocktail glass? But for the price of the shot version.”

“Like I charge you for any of these anyway,” he scoffs. “Giant lemon drop shot coming up.”

You take a seat on one of the bar stools, finally settling in as he starts to prepare your drink. The bar is naturally sectioned off by support beams that run from the ceiling to the floor which gives each bartender their own section to tend to during a regular shift. But you know that since Jeonghan’s the one closing, his coworkers will be clocking out soon, leaving him in charge of the whole bar by himself. 

Luckily, the night has started to wind down by the time his colleagues leave. There are still plenty of people to serve but it isn’t anywhere near as crazy as it is at peak rush. 

He closes everyone’s tabs before circling back to you, bidding his coworkers good night as they clock out. 

“I’m glad you liked your drink,” he hums, collecting the empty glass from in front of you to wash and add back to the rack that hangs above the bar. 

He goes through the motions of his closing routine while the rest of the employees in the other sections of the club do the same. He purposely drags it out, taking his time so that you’re the last two left in the place. 

“Yoon, you good, man?” one of the bouncers calls as he makes for the door. 

“Yeah, I’m almost done. I’ll lock up, don’t worry.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See ya,” Jeonghan echos back, giving his friend a mock salute as he leaves. 

You’re a little surprised no one said anything about you staying behind but you assume they’ve seen you here so many times they know you’re waiting for Jeonghan, who they’re all a little too intimidated by to question. 

“Finally alone,” he sighs, leaning closer to you. “Come here, bunny.”

You let the nickname slide now that no one’s around to hear it. “Where, behind the bar?” 

“Mm, better yet, why don’t you hop up on the bar. Just crawl over to me.” 

You check your surroundings even though the place is empty and hoist yourself up onto the counter. It isn’t wide enough to necessarily crawl over so you just swing your legs over the other side, parting your knees so that Jeonghan can slot himself between them. 

He does exactly that, placing his hands on either of your thighs. 

“Thank you for being patient,” he murmurs, tilting his head upwards for a kiss. 

“I knew you’d make it worth my time,” you hum back, pressing your lips briefly to his. 

Apparently too brief for Jeonghan because he chases your lips when you pull away, pouting when you don’t give in. 

“Ah, is now when I start making it up to you?” he asks softly.

“Mhm.”

He keeps his hands on your thighs, using them to brace himself as he kneels before you. 

“What, here?” you hiss, suddenly rethinking the whole thing. “On the bar?”

“It’s clean,” he assures you. “You just saw me wipe it down.”

“It won’t be after this.”

“It’s a nightclub, babe. Sterility isn’t typically people’s number one concern here. Regardless, I’m obviously going to re-sanitize it when I’m done with you.”

“When you’re done with me?” you challenge. 

“Yeah. When I’m done with you. Got a problem with that?”

“Who says you’re the one that gets to decide that?”

“I do. Because you usually tap out after two rounds.”

“I-” 

“Are you going to let me eat you out or am I going to spend all night on my knees arguing with you?”

You shrug. “Both are hot.”

He sighs. “Lift up your skirt.”

You do as you’re told and wiggle out of your panties too. He reaches out for them and you’re confused but hand them over anyway, only for him to slip them into his pocket. Perv.

You’re used to Jeonghan taking his time with you, teasing you, making you wait for it. But you figure he knows he’s tortured you enough already tonight because he goes right for it. 

“Wait-” you say, yanking him by the hair when his mouth is only inches from your pussy to get his attention. 

“What, what’s wrong?”

You point at the ceiling. “The security cameras. Won’t they...” you trail off.

“We’re in a blind spot,” he mutters, grimacing at the grip you have on his hair. 

“Oh.”

“If you’re worried about it, I can get one of my bouncer friends to erase the tapes from tonight.”

“No, it should be okay, right?”

He nods. “They can’t see anything behind his beam.”

You relax a little, letting him spread your legs again. “Filing that away for when I come back to rob this place.”

Jeonghan gasps. “You would exploit the information I told you in confidence for monetary gain? Has this been your plan the whole time?”

“It’s called a ‘long con’ for a reason, baby.”

“You know what else is long?”

“Alright, enough talking.”

You use the hold you still have on his hair to guide him back in between your legs before he can get to the punchline. He doesn’t resist, obediently following your direction until he’s close enough to lick you. Before he does, though, he rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh and inhales deeply through his nose like he’s trying to breathe you in. You’d likely be mortified in any other circumstance but right now you’re too horny and too tipsy to care. 

“God, you’re wet,” he mumbles. “Alcohol really does go straight to your pussy, doesn’t it?”

You whine, embarrassed. You don’t have a snarky remark this time. 

“I guess we’re lucky I’m a bartender,” he adds.

Then, without wasting any more time, he finally puts his mouth to you. You knew it was coming but your breath still hitches when you feel his warm tongue against you. He finds your clit almost instantly, which shouldn’t annoy you but somehow does. You’ve slept with him too many times, allowed him to get too familiar with your body. You’re already in deeper than you probably should be. 

The irritation ebbs as the pleasure becomes impossible to ignore. Jeonghan leverages every advantage he has against you to get you to the edge. 

You try to hold out but he’s too goddamn good. And to make things even worse, he stops to ask, “Want my fingers or my tongue inside?”

You’re more than a little too gone to answer so he chooses for you, opting for two fingers while he continues to lave his tongue over your clit. 

“Taste so good, baby,” he moans. “Gonna cum?”

“Y-yes!”

“I don’t think so.” He pulls away at the last minute, leaving you jaw-dropped and panting. 

“What the fuck?!”

He shrugs, getting back to his feet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“What happened to making it up to me?” you demand. 

“That’s for not texting me back.”

You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. There’s no way you look even the least bit intimidating with your bare pussy out and your legs dangling off the counter but you’re too pissed to think about optics right now. 

“You think you can ignore my messages, decline my calls, and then just show up unannounced whenever you decide you want to get laid? And show up to my job of all places?”

Well, when he puts it that way...

 “I mean, you can,” he admits, half-laughing. “But I’m going to be a little mean about it. Don’t make that face at me, I’m still going to make you cum. It’s just going to be on my cock.” 

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He brushes off your question. “Do me a favor, reach over there and grab that bottle of vodka for me.” You make a different, more concerned face at him. “What? I just wanted to do a shot together.”

“Last time you said something like that my whole torso was sticky with tequila for the rest of the night.”

“Can you blame a guy for wanting to do a body shot from between your tits?”

“Yeah, I can.”

He clicks his tongue. “Just hand me the bottle.”

Against your better judgement, you grab the Tito’s and pass it to him, watching in mild surprise as he pours it directly into his mouth. He gestures for you to lean closer so you do, letting him gently wrap a hand around your throat so that he can hold you steady when he spits the vodka into your mouth. 

You choke a little as you swallow, making it burn even more on the way down. 

Your throat feels raw, your lips swollen, neither of which is helped by Jeonghan kissing you after taking a shot of his own. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, further exacerbating the sting of the vodka. 

The heat spreads from your lips outward, engulfing you whole.

“Lay on your back,” Jeonghan whispers into your mouth.

He releases you so that you can, hopping up onto the bar with you a moment later. You’re not sure when he took his pants off but everything’s starting to get pretty hazy at this point.

“Are you still ok with no condom?” Jeonghan asks, unzipping the side of your skirt so that he can pull it off. 

“Yeah, I haven’t been with anyone else since...”

“Me either.”

He encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist as he positions himself on top of you and teases you with the head of his cock. 

“Hannie,” you whine and arch your back to try and force him deeper inside you. He pulls back, though, intent on being the one in control.  

“What is it, baby?”

“Need more.”

“Need more of what?”

“Of you.”

He gives you another inch or so, grinning at the way you squirm in frustration underneath him. “Like that?”

“You know that isn’t what I meant!”

“No?” He draws back. 

“Jeonghan!” 

He laughs. “What happened to Hannie? I like Hannie better.”

“I’ll call you Hannie again if you fuck me.”

“Deal,” he agrees, going as far as to offer you his hand to shake on it before finally bottoming out. 

“It can never be easy with you,” you mutter under your breath. 

“I could say the same for you,” he shoots back. 

He lays there on top of you for a few moments, kissing your neck while allowing you to adjust to the size of him. You’re honestly surprised he’s as hard as he is. You know that eating pussy turns him on but you usually help warm him up too. The building anticipation must have been enough for him tonight. The throbbing of his cock inside you confirms that. 

“Can I move now?” he asks.

“Yes. Please. Please, Hannie...”

“Fuck.”

He looks so pretty on top of you. His hair is still all mussed from when you were tugging it and now his bangs are falling in his eyes, curling up at the ends from perspiration. His face is screwed up in pleasure, mouth slightly open as he pants and groans about how good you feel around him.

You wish the lighting wasn’t so dim in here so that you could see him better, take him in better. It’s a sight you’ve seen dozens of times but one that never gets old. You wish it would. 

It usually takes more than just penetration to get you to the edge but you’re still so sensitive from almost cumming on his tongue that you’re on the edge again before you’ve even really gotten started. 

“Je-Hannie, I’m close.”

“Already? Hold it a little longer for me, baby.”

“I can’t!”

You cum with a cry of his name, locking your ankles behind his back to hold him as close to you as you can while the waves of ecstasy roll over you. He tries his best to fuck you through it despite his now-limited range of motion, settling for winding a hand between your bodies so that he can play with your clit to get you to cum even harder.  

When you come down and your body finally relaxes again, Jeonghan takes it as a sign to keep going-- albeit gentler this time.

“You okay? It’s not too much, right?”

“Yeah, you can keep going,” you sigh, your arms and legs feel like jelly now but you still try to hold on to him. “Want you to cum too.”

“Aw, my bunny’s so sweet,” he hums.

“Don’t call me thaaat!”

“Shut up, you like it. I felt you tighten around me when I said it.”

“It was a clench of annoyance.” 

“Whatever you say...”

“Are you close yet?” you grumble.

“Why? Am I boring you?”

You fake a yawn. His jaw tenses. 

“You know what, I’m going to hold off as long as possible just to- fuck.”

You feel his hips stutter as you pulse around his cock on purpose this time, trying to coax him off the edge. He puts up a good fight but is only able to resist for so long.

“Shit, I’m gonna- where do you want me to-”

You lock your ankles again, effectively answering his unfinished question. A familiar sensation of warmth, not unlike that of the alcohol earlier, fills you as his cock twitches and spurts cum inside of you. It’s almost enough to make you cum again but you feel a lot more sober than you did thirty seconds ago and reality is catching up to you fast. 

Still, you stroke Jeonghan’s back as he catches his breath like he always does for you. He seems to appreciate it and kisses you on the cheek when he gathers enough strength to push himself off of you and hop down.

“I demand a rematch,” is the first thing he says. “But not here. I think we’ve made enough of a mess on this bar.”

“I can’t believe we did that,” you add as you slip back into your skirt. 

He buttons his jeans and then hands you your panties from his pocket. “I’m glad we did.”

“Me too.”

“The only problem is that now whenever I’m working this will be all I’m able to think about the whole shift.” 

“That’s a bad thing?” you ask.

“I mean, I’d rather not be hard for hours at a time.”

You laugh. “Well, if you ever need help with that you have my number.”

“But will you actually answer?”

“I- I will, I promise.” You cross your heart for good measure. 

You can’t tell if he believes you or not. He changes the subject before you’re able to read him. 

“Alight, I’ll clean up here and then get you home to clean you up. You’ll stay the night, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t drive after drinking. Thanks.”Jeonghan looks like he wants to say something, maybe ask if that really is the only reason you’re agreeing to stay over, but he doesn’t. It’s the only reason either of you needs.

i swear i picked a lemon drop before the ateez comeback dropped smh- but lmk what you think! i always appreciate feedback!!

[kenzielovesuyou]

𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠★

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 1

pairing: mafialeader!paige X beautypageantqueen!reader!

warnings!: kidnapping, , strict parents, abusive parents, crying, manipulation, passing out, throwing up!<333

no grammar checked!

note: I promise next chapter will be out either by Friday or on Friday, but the next chapter is gonna be really really intense!

it started when I was 5. everyone in my family noticed how pretty and cute I was so my parents signed me up for beauty pageants, and I loved the pretty dresses and accessories it was like my favorite thing, I won titles left and right just for wearing pretty dresses and lightish makeup and curling my long hair the only thing about this whole thing was my parents they always made sure I won and when I didn’t, it was absolute hell..

Driving back from previous competition

“You did great honey! I’m so proud of you!” My mom beams “thanks mom!” I say happily “but you only won by one half of a point… you know better than that” my dad says “I mean I still won..” I say quietly “yes we know but it should be by 5 points like usual..” my mom says “so we need to fix you before you go compete for Miss Dallas” my mom says, I groan because the stuff they put me through is quite literally torture like I’m not exaggerating, It’s actually torture…

a At home

“You know the drill” my dad says holding out his hand, I give him my phone and iPad and sit on the couch, waiting for it to start, then my mom comes “ i’m sorry, honey. This hurts me more than hurts. You” but that she cuts my hand with a blade, I hiss in pain but doesn’t say anything for the past five minutes, my mom has been cutting both of my hands and my ankles “ and you know I do this because I love you right? my mother used to always tell me beauty is pain…” after cutting my hand and ankles she slips in a paper trophy “my mother always said to have beauty and something that you love inside of you” my mom says to me after that, I went into the room of shame inside it had nothing but a bag and my dad’s waiting for me he greeted me with a slap, and after that, he just yelled at me for about an hour straight how I should always be number one and I should be like my mother always winning.. then after that, he shut the door and locked it with the two locks on the outside and honestly, I used to just stare at the wall but now I just bought my eyes out until I can’t cry tears anymore every day for two weeks (except the day of pageants) I was locked in that room and weighed every day and only ate once a week and sometimes my dad would come in the room and hit me for no reason but one particular day was very very bad for me

As I was crawled up in the bed, I really needed to throw, so I got up and started banging on the door, asking for someone to let me out and let me use the bathroom soon my mom heard me and opened the door and just moved out the way, I ran to the bathroom and threw up immediately after I just walked past my parents and suddenly I hit my head hard on the wind floor, and I blacked out..

I woke up back in the bed and there’s note on the floor with two keys (the key to get out the room and to get out the house and lock the door) “ we figured you need some fresh air so you can take walk tonight - mommy and daddy!” I immediately took the keys and unlock the door and then ran to my room I threw on a white spaghetti strap and black bell bottom leggings and simple uggs (but if you don’t wanna wear this, you can imagine yourself wearing something else!) and I walked through the front door and lock the door behind me and just started walking. I inhale the fresh air and started admiring the city. About 10 minutes into my walk I see a black tented van, I have to admit it was a very nice car, but I didn’t mind it and just kept walking until I realized it was following me I started to walk faster until the van suddenly stopped. I started to feel more relaxed, thinking I was just overthinking it until I feel a cloth wrapped over my mouth “ don’t fight it” then I blacked out

I woke up and tried to move but I was hand cuffed and my ankles were tied together then I tried to scream, and I realized my mouth was taped, honestly there wasn’t really anything that I could do so I just accepted my fate and sat there until I actually got bored and started to try to scream eventually, I just started crying because I didn’t know what to do and I got scared then I heard a voice from behind me “ oh you’re awake” it sounded like a female, but I didn’t know for sure until she came in front of me at me “aww look at you.. so sweet and vulnerable..” she says as she gently rips the tape off my mouth “ w-who are you a-and what do you want from m-me?” I gasp “I think your really beautiful and now your my little princess” she says as she’s untying my ankles and unlocking the handcuffs then carrying me to a room “ this is your room. I figured you liked pink because how girly you look” she looks at me up and down and licks her lips “and later we’re gonna go shopping then-“ I started to feel dizzy, and I couldn’t really process what he was saying then my eyes wandered around the room “hey look at me when I’m talking” she’s says as she grabs my chin, I nod slowly, then I felt my head fall forward then I blacked out.

note: I honestly wanted to write more of this, but you guys were waiting so yeah😭

[satoruslovey]

*ੈ✩˚Sukuna×wife!reader ₊˚⊹ᰔ

In which the king of curses answers all the questions about his appearance which his pretty little wife is curious about

Sunlight pours in through the tall windows in slanted lines, gilding the dark wood floors in gold. The scent of incense curls through the air,faintly floral, warm. It’s quiet. Still. No curses clawing at the gates. No sorcerers to dismember. No blood. No chaos. Just peace, rare and almost too fragile for a place like this.

And in the heart of that stillness lies him, Ryomen Sukuna. The King of Curses. Slayer of Thousands. Terror of the Heian Era.

No one really knows how someone like you ended up with him.Perhaps,no one would dare to question,not when they know he walks beside you like a living calamity, draped in silk and menace -- in all his glory.

But when he rests his head in your lap, eyes closed, breath steady,

you think the answer might be simple-

he lets you stay.

And more than that

he listens.

"Hmm...I was thinking about something Ryo", you say softly,as you comb your fingers through his hair.

One of his four eyes peek open as it looks up at you,

"What is it woman?" He says

"your hair...do you dye it?" You ask, gentle amused.

"it's natural" he says.

“Burn the ends sometimes,” he admits, begrudgingly. “Makes it darker.”

You hum. “So you do cursed hair rituals. You're adorable.”

"You’re insufferable.”

Still, he doesn’t move. His head remains pillowed on your thighs like it was made to be there.

You reach down to brush a finger along the edge of the hard plate which lays on his face , covering his cheek and eyes,

“And this? Demon jewelry? Ancient warlord fashion?”

"Cursed armor, it's bound to me".

"Very on brand for you, I must say" you tease,

"you're getting brave"

"am I? will you do something about it?"

His jaw flexes as he says, "you wanna find out?"

All he receives is another giggle,

"alright, now tell me, why have I never seen you with a beard? Don't you grow one?",

He doesn’t open his eyes. Just exhales through his nose like you’ve asked the most offensive question imaginable.

“Because I shave,” he mutters.

“You shave? Like… regularly?”

“Do you think my face stays smooth by divine will alone?”

You blink. Then grin.

“Honestly, yes.”

"shut up"

“Fine, fine,” you say, running a finger along the markings on his chest. “These? Tattoos. Are they real?”

“Those are my markings,some are carved. Some were born with me. Some are my power.”

You blink, "you carved them yourself?"

"mmm, no one else was worthy enough to touch me"he grumbles.

"so dramatic"

"Okay what about your hair cut? Who cuts it? Do you go to like a cursed salon,can I come next tim-"

His eyes snap open,all four of them. Sharp. Burning.

“That’s it.” His voice is low, dangerous, and entirely too calm. “Enough questions, woman.”

You grin like you’ve won something. “Aw, did I reach the limit?”

“You passed it. Three questions ago.”

“But you were answering.”

“I was tolerating. There’s a difference.”

He shifts,sudden, fluid, and predatory,until it’s you on your back, and he’s above you now, eyes narrowed like a storm about to break.

“And now,” he murmurs, voice a velvet threat, “you’re going to be quiet.”

You blink up at him, smiling sweetly.

“What if I’m not?”

He bares his teeth.

“Then I’ll give you something better to do with that mouth.”

Yeah that's enough questions for today. Not that you would mind-

A/n- These are questions I would personally ask him , it's 4 am I need to sleep, but tell me how this is?🧍🏻‍♀️also this isn't edited-

[dc-jxsontxdd]

Thinking about Dating Jason Todd as Robin. How he's absolutely in love like a teenage boy. Plans your wedding in his head, thinking of the gifts he wants to get you now he has disposable Wayne money. I mean boy is obsessed with you. being with him feels straight out of the romance novels he reads to you (he also underlines the parts that remind him of you).

He's attentive, understanding, perhaps a bit cocky but he is the boy wonder, so he can get away with it.

You're his favorite topic of conversation. Praising, adoring, and pride radiates out of him purely from hearing the sound of your name.

He gives you a promise ring maybe 6 months in because he's that sort of crazy. Any of your gifts are stored in a safe place or tucked in his pocket for good luck. He definitely has pictures of u in his wallet.

Jason wants nothing more than to be your prince in shining armor.

Thinking about Dating Jason Todd post resurrection. He's seen and did things he couldn't possibly speak out loud fully. He's been dead and resurrected, that's not something someone gets over easily. He's quieter now. He used to be someone who took up as much space as he could. Who would fill the room with chatter and laughter.

Now it's different. Not worse. Not better. Different.

On the nights you two can spend together are filled with whispers and soft touches. The comfortable silence is something he admires. A contrast to the noise that lives in his mind.

If Jason was ever insecure he is more now than ever. You can tell from the way he holds you in his arms that he's scared you'll disappear. He's been through loss, he's been through death, but on the other side has always been you.

He can think of no one else he'd go through life than with you. Jason is not a people person, he's not even really a relationship person, but despite that he can't ignore how his heart aches when he's been away from you for too long. He can feel himself get antsy when he doesn't have at least some form a physical touch with you. Jason, despite being large and muscular, runs cold. A side effect of being dead, something that the lazurus pit wasn't able to fully heal. It's triggering for him, the warmth of your bodies held together grounds him better.

He wonders what he ever did to deserve this. To deserve you in both of his life times

Jason wants nothing more to be your knight and protector

A/n : this was written sm better but the draft didn't save lmao

[waitingandwishing]

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Word Count: 3k "𝖫𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌" ━━ Ever since you were a kid, all you wanted was to be cared for.

He was already there when you arrived, sitting on the low stone ledge with his sleeves rolled and his bipa leaning against the wall beside him. A faint melody hung in the air, like the breeze had interrupted his playing.

“You’re late,” He said, without looking. You thought it was slightly unsettling that he could sense your presence, but you didn’t mind it. At least someone did. His face was blurred like always, familiar but definitely strange to you…

“I brought persimmons,” You replied, holding up the little cloth pouch tied at your waist.

He looked over, clearly unimpressed. “Are they the bitter ones?”

“They’re the only ones.” You shrugged.

He sighed dramatically. “I suppose I must suffer.”

“You’re a palace musician. Suffering is your art, isn’t it?”

He let out a short, startled laugh and shook his head. “That’s unfair. I suffer beautifully.”

“Mm… I doubt it.” You teased. You plopped down beside him, close enough to hear the quiet creak of the bipa’s strings when the wind touched them. The cloth of your uniform rustled, stiff from the day’s work and still smelling faintly of tea and cedar floors.

“Today,” You said, biting into a persimmon, “A minister sneezed during a prayer. Twice. I thought I was going to explode.”

The man leaned in, curiosity evident in his voice. “Did he try to cover it?”

“He looked like he was dying. Turned completely red.” You chuckled.

“I wish I’d seen it,” he muttered, grinning. “I would’ve written a funeral dirge just for him.”

You choked on the persimmon and laughed, hand to your mouth. “You’re wicked.”

“You’re the one who laughed first.”

You both dissolved into laughter then. It was soft and quiet, it had to be, but it was still real. It was warm, unrestrained in a way neither of you could be when the sun was up and the palace was watching.

He plucked a note, thoughtful. “Something I was working on during rehearsals. But it’s wrong. It keeps slipping out of my fingers.”

“Maybe it’s not wrong,” You started, leaning closer to get a better look, “Maybe you just have to… Play for someone else?”

He looked at you with surprise and you quickly backtracked, “But of course that would be rude to any honored guest! A-after all you’re playing for them, not for someone else! Forget I said anything, the bitterness from the persimmons might be getting to my head…”

You opened your eyes, gasping as you snapped back up from your bed. Why were you suddenly having these odd dreams of this guy? Ugh, that was sort of creepy of you. 

You scratched your head, standing up from your bed and getting ready for the day. You needed to help Rumi get her voice back, but you weren’t sure if Zoey’s method of doing that was… Ethical. Oh well, you wanted to handle it before calling Celine, after all, she would just put more and more pressure on Rumi.

“It’s just a sweet dream, only today. Wait for me, on the stage. We will meet once again…” You muttered under your breath as you changed out of your pajamas to some comfy clothes. You slid on your gloves, covering the markings that stained them.

You and Rumi had them since the day you were born, but you weren’t related to Rumi or even were remotely close to having any heritage with demon blood. It was obviously a mystery, but you hadn’t stolen any souls from people yet so obviously it wasn’t a problem. Yet.

- - -

“He’s got this special tonic.” Zoey explained as the four of you walked down the street wearing your disguises. “Apparently, it can heal anything from sore throats to relationship problems.”

“Shhh! Quiet Zoey…” Rumi mumbled, covering her face just in case they’d be seen.

“Why are there so many people today?” Mira muttered.

“Ooh! It’s down that alleyway!” Zoey said, skipping down a creepy looking passageway. You cringed but followed her. 

Usually, you tried to trust Zoey’s judgement and give her the benefit of the doubt, but obviously it was hard when this so-called doctor had a special tonic that could heal emotional bonds. Maybe they bonded because of their hatred for the scam?

As they arrived at the “Doctors” place, Mira placed one hand on her hip with an unimpressed look on her face. “Yep, about as legit as I expected…”

“I… Does it even taste good?” You asked. “It sounds like it tastes like one of those old lady houses with chipped wood furniture…”

“That’s… Oddly specific.” Mira commented, furrowing her brows. Although you were skeptical, you did hope that this guy was actually for real.

“Earthy and herby. Smells legit to me.” Rumi shrugged.

“Yay! That’s the spirit!” Zoey clapped her hands together and grabbed Rumi’s hand to guide her inside. “Kaja, kaja, kaja, kaja!”

“Hurry, before someone sees us.” Mira sighed, entering the establishment. You followed behind them with a smile.

You sat down next to Mira, picking at the loose strings in your leather gloves. Persimmons… Your hand traced your lips. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to buy some today after Rumi’s check-up.

“Rumi Nim?” The doctor walked through and you quickly stood up with the others to bow. He chuckled, “Sit, sit. You need no introduction.” He turned his attention to Rumi, “So, a problem with your voice?”

“Yes.” Zoey jumped in, “So we need one of your awesome tonics. Something that’ll work super fast.” You nodded alongside her.

“Okay, let me see.” The doctor leaned forward, pulling his glasses down. Rumi opened her mouth for him to check before he quickly shook his head, “Ah, ah, ah. In order to heal a part, we must understand the whole.” He breathed in deeply before staring into Rumi as if trying to see her soul. “I see… I see… No.”

You blinked, clearly confused. Was this guy crazy? You were starting to think that he was but at this point you weren’t sure.

“Actually, I don’t see. Very strange.” He adjusted his glasses, now looking a bit more closely, “You have lots of walls up.”

“Woah! He’s so good right?” Zoey rocked you back and forth with awe in her eyes. You nodded along, but that could be said about anyone.

“So many walls…”

“Walls?” Rumi scoffed, turning away from his uncomfortable gaze. You felt bad for her, being read like this in front of Mira and Zoey wasn’t exactly ideal especially with her secret… “I don’t have any walls.”

“Uh, yeah, you do.” Mira commented, looking up from her OUTER magazine before turning to Zoey and muttering, “He is kind of good.”

“I’m just trying to stay focused.” Rumi shrugged.

“Hm… Focus is good, but focusing on one part leads to ignoring other parts,” The doctor leaned in on Rumi’s left side, "Making you separated, isolated.”

“Ooh ooh!” Zoey raised her hand, “Emotionally closed off?”

“Yes! Yes!” The doctor nodded along in agreement.

“She’s also a workaholic, doesn’t know how to relax…” Mira listed off the reasons before Rumi interrupted her.

“I know how to relax!” Rumi said defensively.

“You… Really don’t.” You added with a grimace.

“I bet she refuses to go to the bathhouse with you.” The doctor grinned mischievously. Honestly you were wondering why he decided to sell tonics and not work as a therapist at this point.

“Oh my gosh, yes!” Zoey exclaimed.

“How did you even-”

“Dude, we’ve been trying to take her to the bathhouse forever!” Mira and Zoey both said at the same time. You sighed, shaking you head and giving Rumi a ‘I don’t know what else to do’ look.

“How is this helpful?” Rumi asked with an eyeroll.

“It’s helping me a lot.” Mira said with a raised eyebrow.

“Waahh, I can’t believe you got all that wisdom just from looking at her!” Zoey smiled. The doctor turned over to her, eyes suddenly wide as he started to look deep into her soul as well. “Wait, why’re you looking at me?”

“I see… Eagerness to plead. Maybe a little too eager.” The doctor spoke.

“What? I’m not like that…” Zoey said before panicking, “You guys would tell me if I was like that, right?”

“Um…” Before you could give an honest answer, the doctor turned to look at you.

“I see… silence. Your soul is quiet and seeks to be loud again.” He said before turning to Mira. You paused, pursing your lips before looking back down at the ground.

Mira and the doctor stared at each other, making groans and grunts of annoyance before Mira bit back and the doctor shied away. “Yeah, that’s right.” Mira smirked.

“Okay,” Rumi cut through the both of them, “How does this help me get my voice back?”

“As I said, in order to treat the part, we must understand the whoooole.” He created a circle with his hands.

Rumi groaned, rubbing her hands over her face, “That’s great and all, but I thought we were just here for your tonics.”

“Can we just pay for the tonics now?” You asked, holding up your credit card. He nodded and as soon as you paid for the box, the three of you exited outside and waited for Rumi to come back with the medicine to help her voice.

You yawned, stretching out and pulling off your hoodie to scratch the back of your neck. “Hey guys, do you think after this we could get some persimmons?” You asked.

“Hm? Why? Are you making jam?” Zoey asked. You shrugged and pulled your hoodie down over your face.

“Just woke up craving some, thought it’d be nice to have something other than what we’re eating now.” You explained, glancing at Mira. “We could probably pick up some Boba on the way?”

Mira gasped, “Yeeessss.” She nodded. You laughed at her happy expression before seeing Rumi exit the door.

“We got the tonics! We got the tonics!” You three all cheered and started walking alongside each other.

“Yay! Once your voice is fixed, we can get back to the important stuff, like the fans.” Zoey grinned, latching onto Rumi lovingly.

You suddenly paused, hearing muttering from around the corner before seeing a couple of shadows. You widened your eyes as Zoey exclaimed, “Fans?! We can’t let them see us here, hurry!” Mira, Zoey, and Rumi hid behind you to which you sighed at.

“Guys, we’re in disguises for a reason.” You said, pulling up your mask, “This is why you wear masks.” You walked forward only to pause again at the… Surprisingly good looking dudes walking down the alleyway?

Mira, Zoey, and Rumi peeked out from behind you, eyes wide at the sight of them. “Woah…” Zoey and Mira said, eyes wide and mouth agape.

You and Rumi exchanged glances before shrugging. “So hot…” Mira muttered. 

Rumi grimaced. “Ugh, you guys are so gross…”

You kept your expression neutral, but you had to agree that they were definitely handsome. You turned to look at Rumi, about to speak before the black haired man nudged into her and made her fall. You widened your eyes as the box slipped out of her hand and caused the tonics to scatter everywhere across the cobbled street. 

“Uh…” He brushed his shoulder, “Watch yourself.”

Your eye twitched and you placed a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, apologize to my friend.” You crossed your arms.

“Hm?” He turned to look at you before you could see his eyes widening slightly and the faint sign of his pupils dilating. 

You frowned, recognition lighting up in your eyes. That guy did look sort of familiar though… Did you know him? No… You’re usually good at faces, you definitely didn’t know him. “Apologize.” You gestured to Rumi, “You’re the one who bumped into her.”

He scoffed, turning away and giving a half-assed apology, “Sorry.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. What a child. There was plenty of space between Rumi and the rest of the street, he just happened to bump into her and make her fall because he was immature. You could never be with someone who had a horrible personality.

You knelt down next to the two other girls, helping them pick up the rest of the tonics. “What a jerk.” You shook your head.

“Yeah, they’re not even that cute.” Zoey frowned.

“They’re so bleh.” Rumi shook her head.

“They’re so…” Mira fake gagged as she threw another tonic in the box.

You all retched before hearing a funky beat come from around the corner. “Hm?” Your expression contorted from annoyance to curiosity.

You, Rumi, Mira, and Zoey all peaked from around the corner to see a puff of pink smoke fill the air. Zoey adjusted her hat while Mira pushed up her glasses. You pulled Rumi’s hoodie over her head and tightened yours with the strings.

The four of you walked towards the pink cloud of smoke, wondering what was happening before seeing a silhouette peak through. Then, all of a sudden the boys from before started to dance and sing.

“Don’t want you, need you. Yeah, I need you to fill me up.” The lead singer, the black haired one that bumped into Rumi, sang. You had to admit that his voice sounded pretty good.  “Masigo maysyeo bwa do seonge chaji ana.”

“It’s those stupid jerks again!” Rumi realized. You sighed, so much for those persimmons.

An old lady burst through your group, hands reaching to grab the lead singer. “Got a feeling that, oh, yeah. You could be everything that-” He pulled his chest forward, somehow pushing the grandma away with his… Charm? You wouldn’t exactly call it that, “That I need, tastes so sweet!”

“These guys are a boyband…” You muttered, eyes narrowed. Usually you wouldn’t be so hostile, it wasn’t like you to be this… Annoyed. But something about that black haired boy’s face made you want to… Violently bash a soda can into it.

“Looking like snacks!” The one with his eyes covered put his hands up as another with light pink hair moved to the front.

“‘Cause you got it like that.” The boyband moved to the side to allow one with a yellow beanie move forward with undeniable confidence.

“Take a big bite, want another bite, yeah. Neoui modeun geol nan wonhae, wonhae, wonhae Neo malgon modu pyeonhae, pyeonhae, pyeonhae!” He moved to the side, all of them going down a line to reveal the black haired one drinking… One of Rumi’s tonics?!

“Seriously?! I paid full price for those things!” You scoffed, crossing your arms and turning your head away.

“Can’t let go, no, no, not tonight.” They all shook their fingers in scary synchronization before posing so the black haired boy, which you assumed was the leader, could sing. 

“Jigeum dangjang nal bwa sigan eopjana.” He sang as he placed his hands on his chest. The others parted, now standing in a more horizontal zigzag.

“Neon naekkeoya imi algo itjana.” The boy with the light pink hair’s voice was soft, a surprising falsetto coming from his throat.

“‘Cause I need you to need me,” The leader sang, all of them gathering into a straight line as they harmonized. You raised your eyebrows, somehow their harmonization didn’t sound crunchy despite them being a new boyband? They probably had someone else write and produce their songs then. “I'm empty, you feed me so refreshing. My little soda pop.”

“You're all I can think of, every drop I drink up!” They moved their shoulders up and down, smug smirks on their faces. “You're my soda pop, my little soda pop.”

Zoey smiled, moving her shoulders along with them before noticing you staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She immediately stopped, but continued to move her shoulders slightly with Rumi as well.

“It is annoyingly catchy though.” Rumi muttered.

“It’s infectious.” Mira said.

“You can say that again.” You pursed your lips before widening your eyes. There were faint markings crawling up their exposed arms, purple markings. You looked back at the leader, who was… Oddly staring at you for some reason, and noticed a flash of yellow sparkling through.

You all gasped unanimously. “They’re demons!”

“Magicians!” You, Rumi, and Mira eyed Zoey for a moment before she quickly corrected herself, “Demons. Obviously demons.”

“Uh, make me wanna flip the top. Han mogeume, you hit the spot.” The one with a baby face stepped forward, everything about him seemed sort of nonchalant but you had a feeling it was definitely an act considering they were demons and surrounded by souls they could eat. “Every little drip and drop, fizz and pop, ah. Soreum doda it's gettin' hot.”

“Dang, they’re good.” Zoey admitted with a sigh.

“Incredible.” Rumi nodded, “But a demon boy band? Why?”

“I don’t care. A demon’s a demon. We kill them.” Mira said, eyes trained on them like a german shepherds as she stepped forward.

“No, it’s too public.” You said, catching the pink haired girl’s wrist.

“What if they try to kill these people?” Mira asked.

“It doesn’t look like they’re gonna hurt anyone.” Zoey said, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, “In fact, it almost seems like they’re nice demons?”

You, Mira, and Rumi once again turned to look at Zoey with confusion in your eyes. What was she talking about? Nice demon was technically a contradiction! “Demons are never nice!” Mira and Rumi said.

The Saja Boys, or whatever their names were, it didn't matter to you, soon finished their song. The crowd surrounding them erupted into cheers and praise.  You didn’t mind that they were doing this, but they were jerks. Maybe if they were nice you would’ve been like Zoey but they weren’t.

You stared up at them before ultimately deciding that this was worth your time. At least now, you had a new objective to do while Rumi healed her voice. Kill the demons.

You felt eyes on you, turning back to see the leader staring at you once again. You tilted your head before ultimately leaving with the other girls to go get ready to defeat them. Why was he staring at you?

He probably knew you guys were Hunters so that meant he was targeting you specifically. Fine. Then you supposed that meant going after him first.

[demie90s]

What about nonchalant fem reader who is only down bad for Kahleah Cooper (or another nonchalant vet), but Kahleah wants to keep it private. Up until she remembers reader used to be a player and is a little too good at being nonchalant in public (maybe even better than Kahleah). Especially if the reader is playing into “being single”. Kahleah makes sure to remind reader of their relationship status / why reader is so down bad for her, and tell everyone else. Younger but not necessarily rookie reader. Whatever this may or may not inspire <3

All Me

Kahleah Copper x fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: You’ve always been calm. Except when it comes to Kahleah. But when her desire to keep things private clashes with your old player habits, she decides to put some pressure back—just to remind you who you belong to.

Word Count~ 1.2k

Genre: Smutty slow burn, established relationship, public/private tension, light angst, lots of flirting

Warnings: sensuality, possessiveness, light dominance, sexual tension, public flirtation, marking

Kahleah’s halfway through brushing her edges when you come up behind her, still in your boxers and a white ribbed tank. Calm as hell. Mouthful of apple, eyes half-lidded like you just woke up—even though you’ve been up, bothering her, since nine.

She doesn’t say anything. Just tilts her head while you wrap your arms around her from behind.

She’s used to it now. You being soft in the mornings. You pressing into her back like you ain’t got plans. You stealing all the damn heat.

“You said eleven,” you mumble into her shoulder. “It’s ten-forty.”

She looks at you through the mirror. “So get dressed.”

“I am dressed.”

“You not even close.”

You shrug, biting into the rest of the apple. She gives you a look—flat and unimpressed—and then keeps it moving, lip gloss in one hand, bag in the other.

By the time you make it to the front door, she’s already got her sneakers on, keys in hand. And you—black tee, chain, loose jeans that hang just right on your hips—lean into the wall like you’re still debating if you wanna go.

She watches you for a second too long.

“What?” you ask, playing dumb.

Her voice is smooth. “You gon’ act like that all day?”

You grin. “Like what?”

She sucks her teeth, turning toward the door. “Like you not obsessed with me.”

You follow right behind her. “I am. Just in private.”

“Shut up,” she says. But she walks slower this time.

In the car, Your hand resting between her thighs like-usual. You don’t make a big deal out of it. Just calm contact. Fingertips slow and warm. She doesn’t move your hand. Doesn’t say anything either. She scrolls through her phone, checking texts, responding to someone from the team about seating.

“You drivin’ or just cruisin’ for no reason?”

“I’m cruisin’ with you. Ain’t that enough?”

She shakes her head, but there’s a soft little grin on her face now. You just keep drivin’.

“You still not hungry?” she asks, not looking up.

You shrug. “I could eat.”

“Then order something when we get there.”

“I will.” You won’t. She knows that.

The spot’s already halfway full when y’all pull up—mimosas on the tables, a few pitchers of water, three different servers trying to figure out who’s with who. It’s a casual team brunch-slash-whoever-was-in-town hangout. WNBA players, staff, college kids who got invited by somebody’s somebody. Chill, loud, relaxed.

You walk in next to Kahleah, one hand hovering low on her back. Not touching. Not claiming. Just there. She doesn’t move away. You’re not subtle—but you’re not messy either. And that’s the thing. People never know what y’all are. You like it that way.

You dap up a few folks. She does the same. Lexi throws a napkin at you for being late. Satou leans in for a hug, already half-drunk. Kahleah’s talking to someone near the hostess stand when you slide into a seat with Britney and Satou, nodding to whoever’s across the way without looking too long.

Satou notices your empty hands.

“You didn’t order?” she asks, brow raised.

You sit back in the chair, legs spread lazy, sunglasses still on. “I could go up.”

“But you won’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, cool as ever.

Brit laughs. “You gon’ eat off her plate like always.”

You don’t respond. Just stretch a little, glance around the patio like the sunlight don’t even hit you the same. You feel good. Chill. Nonchalant. And maybe that’s the problem.

Kahleah comes back five minutes later with a tray in hand. Chicken sandwich, sweet potato fries, something green for balance. She sets it down in front of the seat beside you, then eases into it—crossing one leg over the other, lip gloss still perfect.

You reach over before she even unwraps the sandwich. She don’t care. Not right away. You take a fry, slow. Bite into it like it’s yours.

“Damn,” she mutters, watching you. “Save me some.”

You chew, calm. “Damn What they use to season this?”She stares at you.

You go in for another. Dip it in the little sauce cup, lean back, kick one foot up under the table.

“You know you didn’t order,” she says, voice low.

“I know you did.”

“This mine.”

You shrug. “It’s ours now.”

Across the table, Satou’s giggling behind her glass. Britney deadass pretending she ain’t listening. Nobody says anything. But they all catch the energy.

Kahleah shakes her head like you draining her soul. She sips her drink and says nothing else. But her leg starts bouncing. You don’t miss it.

You know that bounce. You used to cause it. You should’ve known better.

It don’t start off messy. Just energy. Shift in the atmosphere.

People showing up. New faces. A few old ones. Someone from the training team. Somebody’s cousin. Couple of overseas girls who hoop in Spain but always fly through Chicago in the summer.

You still chill. Eating. Laughing. Playing with your straw.

Then a seat opens beside you, and somebody you might have messed with back in 2021 slides into it real casual. You don’t mind. Don’t lean. Don’t blink. You don’t even remember her name. But she’s smiling like y’all still know each other.

Kahleah doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t look up. Just sips (our) her drink slow, leans back in her chair, and speaks under her breath.

“Come here.”

You freeze. Head turning just enough to confirm what you already knew. She’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are still on her phone.

But her hand lifts—real calm—and points to the empty seat on her other side.

You’re up before anyone even processes it. Not a word. Not a moment. You slide across the patio and drop down next to her.

She doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t smirk. Just grabs her cup and sips again like nothing happened. Somebody down the table snickers. Coughs loud, fake as hell.

You ignore it. You’re still chewing her fries. Still leaning into her side. Still down bad in every way that counts. She knows it.

The ride home is quiet.

Windows down. Sun setting. Kahleah not saying much. You tap your fingers against your knee, other hand on the wheel, eyes flicking to her every few blocks.

“I wasn’t even flirting,” you say finally.

She glances out the window. “Didn’t say you were.”

“You told me to come over like I was misbehaving.”

“You was being single.”

You let that sit. You don’t argue.

She sighs, low. “I forgot you used to be fuckin’ around. Like actually good at this shit.”

“I’m not anymore.”

“That’s what scares me,” she says. “You got too good at playing calm. Like people don’t know they don’t stand a chance.”

You turn toward her. “They don’t.”

Kahleah finally looks at you. Eyes slow, full of heat.

“So act like it.” You grip the wheel tighter.

Because yeah. You’re calm. Cool. Collected. But she’s the reason you’re down bad. And if she wants people to know?

You’ll let her show them.

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