yonakaruz

[yonakaruz]

♡. BLUE LOCK OMEGAVERSE

𐐪 alpha! blue lock x omega! reader (isagi, nagi, reo, kunigami, bachira)

— synopsis : what are they like with their omegas ♡

cw/key tags : note : i've started watching blue lock, i'm already at the end of the 1st season!! this is my current obsession and i plan on watching it all.. so here i am writing about them instead of tokyorev :p

MY MASTERLIST : 💌

♡. ALPHA! ISAGI

isagi doesn’t look like the typical intimidating alpha, and that works in his favor. he’s approachable, easy to be around, and his friendly energy puts omegas at ease right away. but under that boy-next-door softness, he’s got all the classic instincts of an alpha : sharp, reactive, protective, and loyal to a fault.

he overthinks everything on the field, analyzing and dissecting plays, but when it comes to his omega, his instincts take the lead. if you’re walking together and someone brushes too close, he’ll automatically shift so his body is between you and the other person. if your scent dips even slightly in sadness or unease, his chest tightens before he even realizes why. he’s always attuned to you — like his alpha instincts are made to pick up the smallest change.

isagi is not a flashy alpha. he doesn’t need to show off or growl to make his point. instead, he’s steady — reliable in a way that makes you feel safe without him even trying. his dominance shows in subtle things : the way his hand finds the small of your back in crowded places, the way his eyes scan rooms before you sit down, the way his scent gets heavier when he feels protective.

his rut is where his alpha nature really crashes through. while he's usually easygoing, suddenly he’s more intense, more assertive, less willing to compromise. even he gets surprised by it, because on a daily basis he’s all soft smiles and puppy-like devotion. during his rut though, his need to claim and prove himself to you is almost overwhelming.

isagi really is all about protecting your space and guards your nest like a watchdog. he’s the type of alpha who can’t relax if you’re not settled and safe. he’ll hover until your blankets are pulled just right, until your snacks are close, until your nest feels right — and then he’ll settle in, curling around you with a heavy, grounding presence.

isagi isn’t possessive in an aggressive way, but his loyalty is so all-consuming that there’s no space for doubt. when he tells you you’re his, he means it completely. there’s nothing else he wants, no one else he even sees. he’s the kind of alpha who looks at his omega like you hung the stars.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! NAGI

nagi is a different case. he doesn’t act like most alphas. he doesn’t have that loud dominance or sharp control. at first glance, he even seems too lazy to have those instincts at all. but his alpha nature is just effortless. he doesn’t posture, doesn’t fight for attention. he’s strong and secure without actually needing to prove it.

nagi is protective, but subtle. he isn’t the type to fight or bare his teeth when another alpha looks at you. he just wraps himself over your shoulders, buries his nose into your hair, or casually puts his arm around your waist like it’s a second nature. he's not trying to show off or scare others away, it’s just instinct. but it still sends a clear message that keeps other far anyway.

scenting with nagi is constant. he doesn’t even realize how much he does it. sprawling on the couch, he pulls you against his chest and tucks his nose under your jaw, sighing like he’s finally able to relax. when you come back from being out, his hand goes straight to your nape before he even says hello, scent marking you like he can’t help it.

also, nesting makes him clingy. nagi doesn’t bother building anything elaborate on his own, but once he discovers your nest, he’s obsessed with it. he carelessly lies down inside, complains when you kick him out and sneaks his hoodies or blankets into it so his scent stays there. if you let him, he’ll basically live in your nest, stretched out, purring quietly like a satisfied cat.

nagi’s very lazy on the surface, but he notices things more than people can guess. when you’re insecure, he doesn’t go into long and deep speeches or pep talks. instead, he pulls you close, tucks your face into his neck, and mumbles sweet things : “don’t think so hard, ‘kay? i like you just like this.” it’s soft, brief and spontaneous, but sincere enough to really stick with you.

his possessiveness in public shows up in different ways. definitely not with dramatic fights or sharp glares, but with a clinginess that is very casual : he's always touching you somehow, leaning into you, putting himself between you and the crowd. his presence is big enough that people don’t test it, even though he doesn’t make a show of dominance.

there are things that really matters to him : food, comfort, warmth. if you cook for him, he melts, scent going soft and satisfied. if you brush his hair out of his face and give him soft scratches or fuss over him after a long day, he sinks into it like he was made for that kind of nurturing. he’s an alpha who really thrives in that omega softness, needing it like air, even if he doesn’t admit it.

nagi doesn’t really dream big about status or power like some alphas do. his world is small : just you, your scent, your presence beside him. if he has that, he doesn’t need anything else. and maybe that’s why his devotion feels so real and present, even when he’s lazy about everything else.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! REO

reo’s the kind of alpha who knows exactly what he wants and never hesitates to reach for it. he’s charming, confident, magnetic — the type of presence that draws people in without him even trying. but when it comes to his omega, that confidence sharpens into something more intense, almost overwhelming in how single-minded it is.

reo is protective, but it doesnt stop there — he orchestrates almost everything as well. making sure you’re safe isn’t enough. instead, he wants every detail of your surroundings under control so you never have to worry about a thing. and it's not in a perverted and obsessive way, reo just thrives in knowing his omega lives in a healthy environment, especially one he has control over.

if someone crosses a line, kinda like nagi, he doesn’t raise his voice or get into a fight, he just shuts it down smoothly, almost mean, like he's cutting the world down so nothing ugly ever gets close enough to touch you.

but there’s a softer side in him, too. he loves giving, loves proving how much he treasures you through gifts, gestures, and effort. a necklace with his scent infused into it, a whole corner of the house turned into a nest just for you, the best food, the softest blankets... and it’s not about spoiling you for the sake of it : it’s about making you feel cherished, showing you in every possible way that you’re at the center of his world.

and he loves being seen with you. his hand is always resting at your waist, his hands always reaching out for you, lips brushing your temple when others are watching, or the way he scents you softly before you go out. reo doesn’t just want you safe, he wants everyone to know you’re his — claimed and adored.

but behind closed doors, reo is sweeter and more vulnerable, a side of him he reserves only for you. in private, he's almost needy, sometimes insecure and looking for your comfort and nurturing presence. he's nuzzling into your scent until he's breathing easy again. he likes when you fuss over him, kiss his face, when you let him curl into your lap and when you let him take care of you, reminding him that you're all his.

there’s also a possessiveness in him that runs deep. a bit selfish at times, he doesn’t just want you happy, he wants to be the reason for it. it isn’t enough to know you’re smiling : he needs to know you’re smiling because of him. for reo, love and devotion are a necessity that he has to constantly shower you with, because his omega is the one thing in the world he’ll never let slip through his hands.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! KUNIGAMI

kunigami is the kind of alpha people imagine when they think of the word. broad-shouldered, steady, protective without ever needing to raise his voice. there’s just something grounding about him, like just having him in the room makes things feel safer and calmer.

with you, his instincts are strong, but they show in quiet ways. he’ll automatically step to the side so you’re shielded from a crowd, carry the heavier bags without a second thought, check that you’ve eaten before worrying about himself. it’s never about showing off : it’s just how he is. caring for you, providing and loving you feels as natural as breathing.

he’s also careful with his strength. even when his hands are big enough to wrap easily around your waist, his touch is gentle, steady. he holds you like he’s always aware of the difference between you and him, of how much more fragile you are compared to him. and it makes you feel oh so safe, allowing yourself to trust him completely.

kunigami isn't really one to express freely and fully his own emotions, but he shows them in ways you can’t miss. when your scent dips, he doesn’t ask questions you might not want to answer : he just pulls you in against his chest, his warmth and comfort wrapping around you until you let go of whatever’s weighing you down. it's also in the way his own scent shifts in those moments : it gets heavy, warm, anchoring and reassuring you when you desperately need the grounding of an alpha — and it says everything for him.

your nest is also his favorite place to be. he always contributes with something small : a hoodie, his pillow, a blanket that smells like him... and once he’s inside, stretched out with you curled against him, he feels complete knowing he's the one you let in. he gets a sense of being trusted in a way no one else is. knowing you’d bare that softness to him and only him, leaves him with a fierce kind of pride.

it’s like the world outside doesn’t exist. he’s not really flashy in public with his affection for you, but in your nest, he lets himself soften completely, cuddling with you with a hand securing your waist.

still, for all his calm, there’s no denying that he'll never hesitate to do anything and everything if it means protecting you. if anyone ever dared to push too far with you, his steady and easygoing exterior would drop in a second. the message that you're off-limits will be sent loud and clear.

overall, kunigami is the picture of what people expect an alpha to be, the perfect textbook alpha, but with none of the arrogance. he's strong, unshakeable, reliable — but with you, he’s also tender. for everyone else, he’s the wall no one can get past, but for you, he’s your gentle guardian you can always come to for comfort and protection.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! BACHIRA

bachira’s alpha instincts show in ways that really catch people off guard. he’s not the stiff, serious type that is often expected of alphas. instead, he’s bright, playful, always orbiting around you with an energy that feels almost boyish. finding his happiness almost only by being near you. however, despite his personality, his possessiveness is heavy, even if it doesn't automatically shows.

he has this habit of scenting you constantly : slipping his hoodie over your shoulders, burying his nose against your neck randomly, leaving his touch on you like it's a mark... it’s not conscious most of the time : it’s just instinct, the way his alpha side can’t stand the idea of you smelling like anything but him.

bachira is a really instinct-driven alpha despite appearances, and it shows in how he is with you. he follows urges without overthinking : scenting you the moment he feels the pull, tucking his things into your nest before asking, reaching for you whenever he needs grounding, pulling you away from that one alpha he doesn't like for no reason... and it’s raw instinct, the kind that makes it obvious his alpha side is always tuned and reacting to you first.

and your nest is like a playground to him. he dives right in, rearranges blankets until they’re just right, tangles himself around you like he’s always belonged there. he doesn’t just contribute pieces of himself, giving you small bits of his clothes or whatever — he actually takes over in little ways : making sure his scent is laced into every corner, his things scattered where only you can touch them.

but behind that playfulness of his, there is a real sharpness and roughness people forget he has. if someone crosses a line, the switch is immediate. no teasing, no smile : his eyes go cold, his tone turns flat and the threat is there without him having to spell it out. it’s shocking, because it comes from someone usually so easygoing, but that’s what makes it effective. it’s that side of him that makes it very clear : your safety and your comfort will always come first.

with you, though, it’s all softness and giggles. he thrives on your affection, melts under your touch in ways he never lets anyone else see. he loves how delicate you are with him, how your omega instincts seem to soothe his restless edges. he clings to that, almost greedy for it, because in you he’s found the balance between everything that's unsteady in his life, and finds peace in the way you look at him.

— thank you for reading (❀´ ˘ `❀) ♡

[yonakaruz]

Is this anything?

Cus this is what I’ve come up with,

[yonakaruz]

unbelievable

[yonakaruz]

[yonakaruz]

Rumi's sibling!reader x Baby Saja again-

Romance: Baby?~

Baby: Okay! I'll tell you the truth...

Mystery: Finally...

Baby: I'm "pretending" to have a crush on them! To lure them into a false sense of confidence!

Abby: ... Have you been eating the baloney again?

Baby: Infact! I'm going to take them down right now - they're at the coffee shop as we speak.

Jinu: And HOW do you know that?

Baby: *shrug* I know everything about them.

Baby: *in a dreamy voice* Their favorite color, the type of music they listen to. Everything~

Saja boys: ...

Baby: *still in his world but quickly realized what he said* BECAUSE THEY'RE MY ENEMY!

[yonakaruz]

Kissing sounds and some moans filled your room but-

Rumi: *knocking on the door* Star, are you there? Is everything okay?

Y/n: Yeah! I am alright, sis, don't worry!

Inside your room, after making sure Rumi was gone

Y/n: *shirtless, only having your bra* That was close... What's she gonna think if she finds one of the Saja boys like this with me?

Baby: *in his demon form, also shirtless and his neck and face completely covered in lipstick* Uh- Lucky demon?

[yonakaruz]

We will be sat

[yonakaruz]

REALLY...HIM?

☆彡 in which professor crewel judges your relationship with the NRC boys

nrc boys x reader (minus ortho)

word counter: 4.8K (200+ per character)

tags: reader is prefect, crewel is your father figure, established relationship, possible ooc

a/n: oh this was by far my most requested work. people wanted father crewel!! i held off on writing this for a while because i felt like i had such a weak grasp on his character. i did my research for this but sorry if my interpretation is off. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy :>

ace trappola

Very against this. It's just one bad influence after another with you, isn't it? First Grim, now this guy. You attract the absolute worst pups, don’t you? You’re lucky you’re his favorite. That’s not stopping Crewel from being crazy strict with both of you though. Expect to get seated across the classroom from your boyfriend. There are plenty of well-behaved puppies in the litter, why are you settling for one who barely knows how to sit? Ace and Crewel are NOT getting along. It’ll take Ace trying to improve himself (i.e. not getting in as much trouble) for Crewel to start being more accepting of him as your boyfriend. If he sees Ace attempting to be a better student, he's more than happy to start extending some grace. He isn’t that cruel… And then Crewel finds out that Ace cheated on a few tests and he’ll get detention for weeks. In detention Crewel is going to make him write a 12 page essay about his bad behavior; standing over his shoulder the whole time as Ace writes this. He'll crack his whip against the boy’s desk if he slows down while writing… Yeah. So much for not being cruel. These two are going to be bickering CONSTANTLY. With time, they’ll mellow out and their arguments will get more playful. (i’m imagining it like Meemaw and George from Young Sheldon) But don't expect him to stop punishing him. It's what bad pups get after all.

deuce spade

Believes you two are adorable together! You two puppies can bounce off and learn from each other. He’ll push Deuce to follow your example, especially if your grades are better than his. He is an educator above all else and takes his position very seriously. Though, as your self-proclaimed father figure, he will be watching Deuce closely. Yes, the pup is good intentioned. But he also has a tendency to get in trouble and still has a long road ahead of him. Crewel will be getting more strict with Deuce, but it isn't as strict as he is with Ace. He's more willing to let some of Deuce's mistakes slide because he sees that he genuinely wants to be better. But those mistakes are in terms of academics. If he makes mistakes in your relationship? Oh that pup is getting whooped. No questions asked. Crewel will not tolerate him hurting you and he has made that very, very clear to Deuce who accidentally got a closer look at the professor's whip. It's not that he thinks that Deuce will hurt you. He's just making sure. He sees it akin to putting a leash on a puppy as they play to make sure they don't get rowdy with the other dogs. Deuce is simply being kept in check by him. Perhaps under Crewel's watchful eye, he will shape up to be the perfect pup for you! He believes Deuce has the potential. It's just a matter of unlocking it.

cater diamond

He's fond of the boy. Makes sure Cater doesn't get away with using his phone in class. He'd hate for any bad influences to start coming your way, so he'll ensure that Cater is following the rules to the tee. He isn't afraid to take away or even break Cater's phone if the time calls for it. Crewel's actually been wanting to get to know Cater more since he's heard about his Magicam. The professor is acutely aware of the latest trends and what not but firmly believes that vintage looks just hit different. So, with Cater now being your boyfriend, he'll be more likely to come up to Cater and recommend him fashion brands that most young people probably wouldn't know about. He's going to start buying you two matching couple outfits, enjoying seeing both of you represent older luxury brands. In exchange, Cater will usually talk to Crewel about celebrity gossip or whatever's trending. This will all be heavily scrutinized by Crewel, but the professor just can't stop listening to what new gossip Cater has. He's open to hearing about student gossip too. Crewel is always open to learning more about his adorable pups and makes sure they aren't misbehaving. Cater becomes his news outlet of sorts. Honestly, Crewel is probably talking to your boyfriend more than you. You're still his favorite of course, he's as loyal as a German Shepherd. Cater is his just new gossip buddy.

trey clover

A fine choice, albeit boring in his opinion. Crewel enjoys a little flare, obviously. His curiosity will grow as to how your relationship happened and why you'd want to be with Trey. His attention will be on Trey more often. And being the astute teacher he is, he'll start to notice more and more... interesting comments that Trey lets slip. Crewel will definitely find out about that side of Trey which... he doesn't know how to feel about it. On one hand; flare! Yay! Now he understands his favorite little pup's relationship better. On the other... Trey is a rather bizarre man is he not? He thinks to himself; how did he ever think that Trey was a normal student? NRC has none of those, much to the teacher's dismay. He appreciates Trey's efforts to win him over though; leaving him little treats. It's like watching a dog bring back a bone, waiting for validation. He'll give it to the boy with due time. Though, Crewel would rather see him treat you nicely as opposed to Trey giving him gifts. He's obviously a well-trained pup, especially given his position as the vice-housewarden of Heartsbyul. Though, Crewel is hesitant to say any boy is worth your attention, he doesn't mind Trey and his tendency of spoiling you. It's what you deserve. Crewel really doesn't have any reservations about your relationship. He just has his suspicions on Trey as a person. Especially if you tell him about the teeth thing. Please don't tell him about the teeth thing.

riddle rosehearts

He appreciates you going for an obedient pup. Crewel hopes Riddle will push you to be more responsible, officially assigning him as your partner in all the classes you have together. The professor also asks him to be your tutor after seeing how well you work together. Academically speaking, Crewel believes Riddle is a good pup. However, he wants to make sure you're being treated like royalty in your relationship and isn't afraid to make vague threats to scare the boy a little. He'll say things around Riddle like, "Hm. It's been quite a while since you and the Prefect have gone on a date, hasn't it?" While not so subtly cracking his whip. Fear is one of the best motivators and best believe Riddle instantly took you on a date after that incident. They have mutual respect for one another as they're both sticklers for the rules. Riddle is just a bit... intimidated at times by his professor. But it's all smooth sailing. Crewel just reminds Riddle of the consequences of treating you poorly. A lot. The housewarden is unnerved but uses it as an opportunity to better himself, earning some brownie points in Crewels book. He's always had a soft spot for obedient puppies.

jack howl

Crewel's intensity really gets to him sometimes. He knows it's bad but whenever Crewel's around Jack starts to overthink. "Why is he looking at me like that... What if I did something wrong? What punishment will I have to face?" In reality, Crewel likes Jack. He thinks you picked the cutest little pup ever. Partly because Jack is a wolf beastman with dog-like features. But Crewel also recognizes Jack's grit. He's actually quite charitable when it comes to complimenting him. During class, Crewel will correct and check up on Jack quite a lot. The beastman takes this as his Crewel not thinking he's good enough for you. But in reality it's quite the opposite. Crewel just genuinely enjoys teaching things to Jack. He approves of the relationship, believing you've chosen a well-rounded dog. Strong, reliable, a rule-follower— it appears you've finally gained a good companion. However, as time goes by, Jack can't stand the thought of Crewel not thinking he's well suited for you. Soon enough, he goes to the teacher and spills his guts, saying that he knows he's not perfect but he's trying really hard to be the man you need. Crewel laughs, patting him on the head. "Oh, you silly little pup. You already have my approval." Jack is shocked to hear this, but it does make him happy to hear. All the more reason to be devoted to you in Jack's mind.

ruggie bucchi

He's not fond of troublemakers— a well known fact. So, Ruggie tries to be more subtle with his mischief once he finds out that Crewel's protective over you. As much as he'd like to stick it to the man, Ruggie quite enjoys his life and would rather not play with fire. But Crewel catches on. He always does. And oh boy, he finds Ruggie's under the table misbehavior to be anything but tasteful. His whip is going to be put to good use. Ruggie gets mortified and starts skipping class, making the whole situation worse. You're probably going to have to be the middleman for these two and make sure nothing goes overboard. Needless to say, Crewel is not fond of Ruggie. However, the teacher respects his work ethic. That boy is always on the job, looking to get extra cash. There's potential in Ruggie and Crewel is going to find it. Meaning that he's going to bug you for more information about your boyfriend before pulling him aside and having a genuine talk with the pup. After the talk, they seem on good terms, with Crewel even complimenting Ruggie from time to time! Yay! Little do you know that he's constantly threatening your boyfriend with the whip.

leona kingscholar

He hardly sees the appeal of a lazy cat who sleeps his days away. Leona is hardly in class so Crewel can't even punish him. He'll have a stern talking with you, telling you not to settle for anything you don't deserve. Once you explain that, "Oh no, Leona treats me very well." and maybe throwing in a, "He lets me use his credit card." for good measure, Crewel will be more open to the idea of you two dating. He could always sense that Leona had that side to him, but he absolutely despises his laziness. He'll try to get you to convince the beastman to come to class more often. Crewel starts threatening to punish you if your boyfriend continues to skip. After all, your boyfriend is an extension of you. And if you're boyfriends being a bad pup, then you are too. So basically you're begging Leona to start to come to class again because Crewel does not play when it comes to punishments. Crewel is not holding back any punishments once Leona starts attending classes more. It's extremely frustrating for Crewel— seeing untapped potential in Leona. He doesn't tolerate this pups behavior, but he genuinely wants to see him be better and decides to talk to him after class. Leona is surprised when Crewel isn't being too preachy and instead talks about how he wants to make sure you're being treated right. It kinda pisses the beastman off that his professor thinks he'd ever treat you wrong in the first place, but it does give him some newfound motivation. The two eventually grow to have a mutual respect relationship on the basis that they both want you to be happy. Though, Crewel still thinks dogs are better than cats. And frankly, this extends to your boyfriend. Sorry not sorry.

floyd leech

What spell does this leech have you under!? In what world would he EVER let you date this monster of a man!? This love is forbidden! Crewel will go full Romeo and Juliet style when restricting you two because he is NOT letting you date Floyd! Nope! Not if he has a say in it! Going on a date tonight? Too bad, he's assigning both of you extra homework that must be completed ON YOUR OWN. Floyd dislikes him right back, always complaining to you how Crewel's no fun. Floyd is one of the biggest troublemakers on campus, right next to Grim. Arguably worst. Floyd is going to get really upset about Crewel's attitude about it and, to your horror, he confronts the professor about it shamelessly. RIP your boyfriend. That poor guy is NOT making it out alive. If you make the mistake of asking Crewel why he doesn't like Floyd, oh that man will go on a tangent. He will be talking for HOURS. I don't see this relationship improving either. Floyd has no intention of changing ever; very content with how he is. If anything, he's making it worse by talking back and throwing tantrums. And it's probably going to be your job to calm him down because Azul and Jade do not wanna deal with allat. Have fun!

jade leech

Unsettled to say the least. He swears up and down that the pup is plotting something. Unfortunately Sam tells him he's overthinking it. He will be sitting you two away from each other... A part of Crewel genuinely wants to get to know him and how this relationship flourished. A louder part of Crewel wants to get you the hell away from this pup because he's scheming SOMETHING he can sense it. All their interactions are going to be the most tense thing ever. Like, both of them are going to be staring at one another with the most strained smiles in the universe. As Jade passes by Crewel's desk with his up-to-no-good smile, I can picture him saying, "Is something the matter, professor?" And then Crewel hitting him back with an equally as devious grin. "Nothing that concerns you, my pup." And then they'll proceed to have a staring contest until you inevitably drag your boyfriend away. Hey, at least Crewel is outright disapproving or hostile to your boyfriend? But he does give you several warnings to watch Jade closely. Because no one should like mushrooms that much. It's suspicious. Crewel is definitely paranoid and probably has a bunch of conspiracy theories on Jade but he never really disapproves of the relationship. A win is a win?

azul ashengrotto

As mean as this sounds, Crewel can sense his insecurity. He's just learned how to pick up on those kind of things after being a teacher. And Azul reeks of hidden insecurity to the professor. He doesn't go any easier on him— he'd be damned if he let any of his puppies step out of line. But he's much more open to be complimentary, especially since you're dating Azul. He'll encourage Azul to spend more time with him after class for studies in order to give him pep talks. If Azul was good enough to catch your eye, then Crewel assures him that he doesn't need to put on this whole 'business' facade to win anyones favor. Azul is definitely stunned to receive this kind of talk from his teacher, but decides to take his advice to heart because he really does love you. Crewel doesn't tell you any of this. Whenever you talk about your boyfriend he kinda just nods along and goes, "That's nice, honey." But in actuality, he smiles to himself after hearing that Azul's been coming out of his shell more. Or— in his case pot. He's no love expert, but he goes soft when he hears that his students are genuinely improving.

kalim al asim

Okay. Get that money. Crewel respects the grind; going for the richest kid on campus. But he isn't a fan of how reliant Kalim is on Jamil in terms of academics. And now that he knows that Kalim is your partner, he'll be harsher on the boy. Crewel doesn't want you hanging out with non-scholars! You deserve a very intelligent boyfriend who can at least get a B average. So he pushes to see Kalim more after class without his attendant, claiming that he needs to learn how to be independent. Kalim obviously struggles with this a bit due to his upbringing, but is willing to take the challenge! Especially if it's to win the respect of your father-like figure! He's really sweet and does try hard... but it doesn't garner much results much to Crewel's dismay. Nonetheless, Kalim does in fact show the grit that was needed in order for Crewel to approve of your relationship. Though, he does insists that Kalim continues to come after class on his own. Maybe you could tag along and help him. Because somethings that boy just doesn't get, no matter how hard Crewel tries. The professor can't help but smile when he sees how lovesick Kalim is over you. He'll watch from afar as you two puppies hug each other in the halls. If you accidentally make eye contact with him, Crewel will give you a small, approving nod.

jamil viper

Crewel has had his eye on Jamil before the two of you started dating. He could tell that the pup held himself back. For what reason, Crewel couldn't say but once he heard the news about you two, he definitely used it as an excuse to get to know Jamil more. He'll watch how Jamil acts around you, the way he relaxes and becomes more snarky. Crewel finds himself liking this version of Jamil more than the quiet, blend in the crowd guy that he presents himself as to the professor. So, Crewel decides to force him out of it. He'll push him, purposely grading his papers harder so that he'll have to put in more effort. Crewel knows that Jamil is capable of 'A' papers despite only turning in 'C' level work. His solution? He makes it so that, in order to get a 'C', Jamil has to turn in 'A' level work. Call it unfair, but it works. Jamil does get frustrated and rants about it to you. As hard as he tries to bite his tongue, he'll eventually let something slip on accident to Crewel. Now, Crewel hates disrespect. But he knows he purposely pushed the pup to see this side— the true side. He'll tell Jamil that being fake doesn't suit him. So, Jamil drops the act. He isn't stupid, Crewel is basically your father and he isn't trying to get on any of your family's (blood related or not) bad side. And it turns out to be for the better as they actually develop a nice bond with Jamil being more himself. Some puppies just need to be pushed out of their crate.

epel felmier

Crewel is happy to hear you're dating a Pomfiore student! He'd like his son-in-law to be fashionable. Then he hears that it's Epel and he's mildly disappointed. Listen, he genuinely cares for his students so he pays attention. And he's heard Epel slip out his native tongue underneath his breath. He's seen the boy rough play with Ace and Deuce. He knows that this pup is different from the other Pomfiore students. That's why he also gets frustrated when Epel tries to maintain this fake act with Crewel. "Good pups don't play pretend when it isn't asked of them. Drop this act. That's an order." This, naturally, freaks Epel out a bit. The country boy is a bit ashamed to be himself around Crewel since he really wanted to appease him due to your father-like bond with him. But he isn't going to disobey— Epel has seen Crewel's punishments, he's not taking his chances. Although Crewel isn't the biggest fan of Epel's southern charm, he appreciates the pup being his real self around him. Is he good enough to date you? Not in Crewel's book, no. But he'll allow it. Epel knows what the punishments are if he breaks your heart anyways.

rook hunt

What compelled you to want to date this man? Crewel doesn't understand your taste. Rook starts leaving clothing and jewelry from luxury brands that Crewel loves on his desk. The professor has very mixed feelings about this. 1. How did Rook find out what brands he's partial to? Should he be concerned about this? Because he's getting concerned. 2. Crewel doesn't like the idea of being bought over. No matter how much he enjoys the gifts. Because he wants your love to be genuine. Crewel wants to see proof that Rook is treating you right, not another luxurious coat that he'll definitely be wearing later down the line. He takes the fact that Rook thinks he can be bought over as an insult and pulls him aside after class, giving the pup a stern talking to. "Non non! I simply gifted it because it reminded me of you, professor! These have nothing to do with my devotion toward the Prefect." Crewel smells bs and does NOT tolerate that. He'll punish Rook by having him clean the alchemy tools after the freshman class since that class was notorious for leaving behind a mess. Rook knew what he was doing. His hand holds yours tighter and he smiles as you two pass by Crewel, with Rook catching a glimpse of the professor wearing one of the necklaces Rook gifted him. You just sigh because there's no way of controlling this man. His audacity knows no bounds.

vil schoenheit

Oh, Crewel is living for this. Vil might just be the one student he fully approves of, 100%. You dating one of the top alchemy students who is also an actor and model with the best sense of fashion in the entire school? Now that's a good puppy! Crewel almost wants to buy both of you treats with how over the moon he is. Vil, ever so charming, easily woos Crewel over by showing him how caring and compassionate he is towards you while also maintaining good grades and fixing your clothes. The professor smiles wide as he asks you, "How's your boyfriend doing?" And he listens happily as you tell him about the super romantic date that Vil took you on. Vil also seeks Crewel out for opinions on different outfits he plans on wearing to his modeling shoots. Crewel is more than happy to give his two cents. All the alchemy students have Vil to thank for the professor being in such a good, less snappy mood. He's not any less strict on them, but he compliments their work much more as he thrills over the fact that his little puppy is dating the perfect student. There's nothing more pure than puppy love, and he sees it written on Vil's face whenever he's around you.

idia shroud

You're dating the recluse? Now how did that happen? Crewel rarely sees Idia so he hasn't exactly seen how the two of you interact. He urges and bugs you to get your boyfriend to show up to his class. Cause Crewel only has a faint idea of what he's like. And once he does get familiar with Idia... Oh... Oh, puppy, why? Why him? Not exactly the type Crewel would've gone for at all. He'll definitely have to punish Idia a few times. Partly because of his horrendous attendance. Partly because he's heard him say a few sly comments under his breath. But mainly so he'll know the consequences of hurting you. Idia is beyond TERRIFIED of this man. Why does he keep calling him a 'pup'?! WHY DOES HE HAVE A WHIP?! And his fears are justified when Crewel punishes him. Idia will let out a loud sigh as he snuggles against you. "Out of all the staff members to be your fatherly figure... Did it have to be him?" Which is pretty funny because you're pretty sure you've heard Crewel complain, "Out of all the students... you chose him?" Looks like they've got some similarities. Just don't expect Idia to be striking up conversation with Crewel ever. Same goes with Crewel. They just pretend that the other doesn't exist and move on with their days.

sebek zigvolt

Oh, Crewel knows who Sebek is. That pup has a lot to learn. Especially when it comes to controlling his volume. Crewel uses the fact that you're dating him to teach him a lesson. "If you yell a single time in my class again this week, I will have your relationship with the Prefect ended. That is a guarantee." It's not a guarantee since Crewel knows he can't really control you, but he says it to keep Sebek in check. And it works. Nobody knew he could stay that silent for that long. Crewel was pleased with the progress, giving him a pat on the head with a small, "Good pup!" Oh, and Crewel is especially satisfied when Trein comes to complain to him that Sebek's been extremely loud in his class as of late. Crewel shrugs, claiming that he's been nothing but the most obedient dog in his class. "Maybe it's a teaching problem regarding you?" Trein wanted to strangle him when he said that. Crewel found it extremely amusing. The professor honestly thanks you for dating Sebek because this is the most fun he's had in a while. You're just glad that Sebek got Crewel's mark of approval. Because you know he would've been crushed if he didn't.

silver

He isn't a fan of the boy who's always sleeping. Crewel becomes even harsher when he hears the two of you are dating. It's hard for Silver so eventually the student comes to him explaining his condition. The professor is much more understanding after that. He actually tries really hard to help Silver, probably dragging you along as well. He'll have you stay after class for some parent-kid (blood related or not, you are literally his child) bonding while making a potion. Crewel will make dozens of potions, giving each one to you so you can pass it along to your boyfriend. None of them really make his condition go away fully of course, but it definitely helps as he's able to stay awake in class. Silver is extremely thankful for the help from Crewel, making it a point to express his gratitude nearly every time he sees him. With Silver awake more often, Crewel's able to witness the knightly way in which he treats you. Spoiler alert; he loves it. Yes! Live out your fairytale dreams, puppy! Crewel's convinced that Silver was a medieval knight in a previous life. He also offhandedly mentions that Silver should start modeling because that pup is GORGEOUS. (I'm biased because have you seen his eyes!?)

lilia vanrouge

Sure. He's cute.... Wait he's how old? Crewel is NOT approving when he finds out that Lilia is probably older than him. It's funny because Crewel starts to talk to Lilia more like he's a staff member than a student. And Lilia happily goes along with it. It's such a switch when he talks to you and then your boyfriend. "Hello, pup. I'm glad to hear you had a good day. How's your alchemy project coming along?... Oh, Lilia. How's the mortgage." "Quite well, professor. How's the wife? Wait, sorry, I forgot— you don't have one." Yeah, he hates your boyfriend actually. May or may not attempt to set you up with someone else. Only for the person that Crewel sets you up with to be Lilia catfishing as someone else. "Khee hee~ The internet these days is crazy, isn't it?" If you look closely you could probably see steam coming out from Crewel's head. The professor will make it a point to constantly tell you that your boyfriend is the worst. He doesn't even consider him a pup in the litter. He's a rodent who somehow snuck into the box. A rodent that you adopted much to Crewel's dismay.

malleus draconia

Since it was well known that Crewel was your father like figure, Malleus actually made it a point to go to him and declare his love for you. It kinda catches the professor off guard. One minute he's just grading papers. The next some fae pup busts through the door and starts spouting Shakespeare style how much he loves Crewel's unofficial adopted child. Crewel is left speechless by the time Malleus done, barely even registering all that he just spouted. "... You have my approval?" Heavy on the question mark. Crewel might've had no idea what Malleus said, but if he willingly went on a 30 or so minute tangent about how much he loved you— he probably loves you a lot. And Crewel doesn't regret it as he watches the two of you bond like you're in your own little world. He'll start being more open about approaching Malleus, suggesting small tweaks to Diasomnia's dorm uniforms. Your boyfriend agrees with the biggest smile and implants the suggestion right away, loving the fact that he has the favor of your father figure. Crewel likes to watch the two of you from a far and muses how the most unlikely creatures from completely different worlds can still fall deep into puppy love. The universe works in funny ways, doesn't it?

[yonakaruz]

Silence Isn't Golden

Saja boys x reader

Warnings: Omegaverse, poly relationships, female reader, eventual smut, MDNI 18+

*Italicized is for the reader's thoughts.

A/N: I did not really proofread so I hope there isn't too many errors! I hope everyone enjoys!

Next

Chapter 1.

“Aunt Celine… why can’t I hear?” You look up at Celine, curiosity in your eyes. Your fingers fumble the letter of the signed language, but you get the point across. Celine sighs and bends down to look you in the eyes, she looks tired of explaining this. She signs quickly and barely gives you time to see. “Because you’re cursed, ___.” She reaches out and tugs the sleeve of your shirt down. “And you must hide those marks of yours. I’ve told you before, those are your shame.” Your marks… you have five of them. A lion, a rose, a rock, what looks like a lollipop, and an eye with a star for the pupil. They run down your left arm like a tattoo.

You turn and look down, absently tugging on the sleep and nodding sheepishly. You know Celine dislikes when you ask. “Will you explain everything to me someday? What these marks are?” It was only one more question, your little fingers catching again as you try to rush the question out. Celine barely spares you a glance. “When you’re older.” She doesn’t sign it though and leaves you confused. True to her words, when you were a few years older she sat you down to explain everything. With a sigh, Celine started signing slowly.  “To explain your marks… I must explain the secondary identity everyone has. There are three. Alpha, beta, and omega. Alphas are primarily demons; it is very rare to have a human alpha. They also have the strongest aura, or scent. Betas are what most humans are. They’re average and have no special scent. And omegas… are the rarest and with the most exquisite smell. I’ve only ever known about three in our history.”

 Celine pauses almost like she’s disgusted about having to say what’s next. “You are an omega, ___. Every omega has a…” She grimaces this time. “A mate. A fated one. An alpha. Those marks represent the demon who is bound to you.”

Everything went still for a long while before you signed back. “Does… does Rumi know?” Celine’s gaze hardened and if you could hear, you’re sure Celine’s tone would be sharp and unkind. “Yes, Rumi knows. But you’re not allowed to be near her. Do I make myself clear? Your scent… you attract demons, and I will not have Rumi endangered by that. Do you understand?” You nod quickly and shrink back, not wanting to anger Celine anymore. “We’re done here then.” Celine stands and leaves, not allowing you to ask any more questions.

You sit alone for a while, your mind racing with thought after thought. ‘An omega… a demon’s mate…’  A sudden shadow on the ground makes you look up, seeing Rumi smiling at you softly. “Hey there… I saw Celine leaving.” Rumi plops down on the bench next to you, bumping her shoulder gently yours as if to tell you you’re not alone. Celine was very good at keeping you girls separated and refused to let up. Rumi, Mira, and Zoey, beg and beg but Celine refuses to hear any of it. It was only once Rumi, Mira, and Zoey were ready to make their debut as pop stars that Rumi put her foot down. They argued for hours and while you couldn’t hear anything they said, the looks on Zoey and Mira’s faces said it all. Eventually Celine approached you, signing quickly. “You’ll go with the girls, but you must take your suppressants every day.”

You don’t know how Rumi did it, or what she said to convince Celine, but you were happy. These girls are your family, and you didn’t want to be parted from them. You became HUNTR/X motivation, as they called you. Someone they could be themselves around. A friend. Zoey insisted the songs she wrote wouldn’t be as good as they are if you weren’t there. Mira said that without you, their choreography wouldn’t be the same. And Rumi. Rumi told you that without you there to help her, her voice wouldn’t be what it is. You were a perfect little family. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You gasp and snap out of your thoughts when someone taps your shoulder. Bobby stands next to you with a smile and points up. You look where he points and your jaw drops. There are the girls, literally free diving onto the stage while chasing demons. You wince at the rumble in the ground, but don’t move. You know they have this.

 The silence was suffocating. Loud music and flashing lights, but you sigh unable to hear a thing. You sit in your chair backstage while watching them shine on stage. You mouth along to their words, softly singing to yourself and fingers tapping on your leg. It was always like this and as of late, Rumi wouldn’t let you out of her sight. She claims it’s about your curse, telling you she refuses to let any demon touch a hair on your head. The lights dim and you stand, moving to meet the girls as they come off stage.

“___!” Zoey yells your name and brings you into a squeezing hug. You let out a silent wheeze and pat her shoulder, tilting your head to indicate you want to be let go. Mira groans and grabs the back of Zoey’s jacket. “Are you trying to squeeze the life out of her?” A small smirk appears on her face before disappearing as fast as it appears. She was happy to see you waiting for them just as much as the other two. You turn to Rumi and open your arms for a hug, breathing in the smell of her perfume. Lilacs with the smell of sweat. Being an omega gives you a better sense of smell.  ‘I guess that’s a good thing because I can’t hear.’  You think quietly to yourself, wondering if your demon mate could smell you. You shake out of your thoughts when Zoey pats your shoulder. They gave a good performance.

Rumi squeezes you in return before pulling back and starting to sign for you. “Did you see it ___? The Honmoon rippled gold! We’re so close!”  You nod and smile at her, but you’re not as happy as you should be. Thoughts flash through your mind. ‘If the Honmoon is sealed… will I ever be able to hear? I know Celine said this is my curse but…’  You absently rub your shoulder, right over the lion mark. Rumi waving in front of your face shakes you from your thoughts and snaps you out of it, there is no place for such thoughts in future, it’s not going to happen. You brighten and smile at her, immediately jogging to catch up with Mira and Zoey who ramble animatedly. ‘It’d be nice to hear them…’  You reach and take Zoey’s hand so as not to fall behind in the post-concert crowd. When you all finally make it to the tower, Mira and Zoey book it to change into their robes and collapse on the couch while Rumi darts off into the closet. You shrug, yawning as you move to the kitchen and start heating some butter in a pan. Some scrambled eggs with kimchi are quick and delicious after a concert.

You crack open some eggs and scramble them, pouring them into the pan and setting the heat on low. You let them stay on the heat and step out onto the balcony. The city is beautiful at night. You lean on the railing and take a deep breath, the slightly cool is a nice contrast to the warmth of indoors. This is how you’ve always known the world. Scent and sight. They are beautiful without the noise as Celine put it.

As you look over the city, you don’t see the demon hanging off the edge of the building. Nor do you notice when it tries to grab your ankle. You move, just avoiding the demon’s claws as you walk back in to finish your eggs. The demon watches you with glowing eyes for a moment before disappearing. You rush to the stove and turn the heat off just as your eggs are about to burn and safely put them in a bowl, which you generously dump kimchi on.

After cleaning your mess up, you walk into the living room only to pause. All three girls stand in the outfits for the new single. Golden. You tilt your head in confusion and Rumi sighs a quick explanation to you. “I moved up the release of Golden, we have the promo tonight. Like right now.” You blink slowly at her before shaking your head, gesturing between your food and her. A sheepish grin spreads on her face. “And I want you to come too…” You let out a silent groan but go get yourself changed into a better outfit for a promo. You return to the living room just as Bobby arrives, announcing the single is fire and everyone is loving it.

You huff, reluctantly putting your food down. ‘Damnit Rumi. I was looking forward to eating and relaxing tonight.’  The next hour flies by and soon you’re all at the venue for the promo, only Rumi’s voice is cracking. You see it on her face when she tries to hit the high notes in Golden. You jump up and run after her, knocking softly on the dressing room door. You start absently running the marks on your arm as you wait for her to answer the door. When she doesn’t, you don’t push and instead pull out a pen to scribble a note for her.

“Rumi… I know your patterns are getting worse,

I know that’s why your voice is breaking. I can’t pretend to know what it’s like. My marks and your patterns… they’re so different, yet so similar. If you ever want to rant it out… or sign it out in this case… I’m here for you.”

You slip the note under her door and head back up to the main stage. Mira and Zoey are talking, worried looks on their faces as they whisper to each other. You pause, a displeased look passing over your face. ‘I hate this… this inability to hear. It’s not even natural! Screw whatever demon bound my fate to theirs! I don’t want to be your omega!’ 

You grunt and sit down on your chair, hiding behind the backdrop. ‘I want to help Rumi… I want to help her feel comfortable in her skin, with her patterns. But I can’t. My voice has never been used and even if I wanted to… I’m in no position to do so. As Celine said, I’m just a danger.’  Your fingers rub the marks under your sleeve. They’ve been itching more lately and have even felt like they were burning a bit the other day. You startle from your thoughts when Zoey and Mira bend down and wave to get your attention as they both start signing. “We need to get back to the tower. Rumi’s gone and we think she went home.” You nod, standing to help them gather their things before going back. It was dark, but the city never slept. Lights danced and the smells on the air were nearly overwhelming, but it was almost comforting… Like home. When the elevator dings, you all pile out of the elevator and see the apartment empty and with no sign of Rumi.

You set your things down and move to the kitchen, deciding to get a quick bite as you didn’t get to eat earlier. You heat up your food and walk onto the balcony, sitting down to eat, letting the cool breeze blow over you. You close your eyes and when you open them, you’re staring into the face of a demon. Your mouth opens to scream, but you freeze. You throw your bowl of food at it and dart back inside, but not before the demon manages to catch and scratch your arm. You pant quietly and hold a hand to your injury. Telling the girls is not something you really want to do, as they’ll just get all worried and overprotective.

You take a deep breath and sneak to the bathroom, cleaning and bandaging the wound. It’s not that bad. You slip out and into your room, quickly disposing of the trashed robe. You rub your face with a silent groan and flop on the bed. ‘Tonight, has been a night and…’ You glance at the wound on your arm. ‘Dangerous. How bold must the demons be getting to show up on our tower? I should probably tell the others but… I don’t want to be treated like I’m a liability…’

Truthfully, they were important questions, but your mind is tired and you just shrug, resigning to deal with it tomorrow. You roll over, turn your nightlight off and snuggle with your pillows. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Somewhere far below the Honmoon a demon trembles. It crawls slowly to the base of a large fire. “And? What did you find?” A voice from the fire booms and the demon trembles more. “Lord Gwi-Ma, I found… her.”

[yonakaruz]

Full backgrounds - Birthday lounge (night) and washroom

Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

[yonakaruz]

twst dump

[yonakaruz]

A season I've never met: a season that stole my heart ❤️🌹

[yonakaruz]

Bound to Them

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 7.2 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬

𝐒𝐚𝐣𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Masterlist

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: 𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒓𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔.𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒔.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑶𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍/𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒅, 𝑬𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 (𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒔), 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒅𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒔, 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒖����𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 (18+)

—𝑬𝒎𝒓𝒚𝒔 🩷

w/c: 7.1k

comments and reblogs would be appreciated!

You would’ve blushed if you weren’t already flushed head to toe. Baby knelt between your spread thighs—completely bare, visibly trembling with need. For you. Because of you.

Your gaze drifted, drinking in every inch of him. His skin looked almost ethereal under the low light, a little translucent where the sweat clung to him, catching on the sharp cut of his abs and the curve of his ribs. Strands of his blue hair were damp and curling, plastered to his forehead. Droplets slid down his chest, trailing lower, lower…

His cock stood heavy between his legs, long and veiny, flushed a dark, desperate pink. The skin looked painfully tight around the base, his tip glistening with thick, pearlescent precum that gathered and spilled slowly. It twitched under your gaze. You swallowed, breath catching at the sight of it.

He noticed. Of course he always did.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he curled his hand around the base of his cock, pumping himself with lazy, deliberate strokes—like he knew exactly what it was doing to you. “You’ve already seen it, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice warm and laced with teasing. “Tasted it too, remember? No use acting shy now.”

Your face burned as you instinctively glanced away, caught like a thief with your hand in the cookie jar.

But his palm found your cheek, warm and gentle as he turned your head back to him. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he whispered, thumb brushing your skin. “I like when you look.”

You giggled through the haze of heat, your body still soft and buzzing from the orgasms they’d already pulled from you tonight. The air was thick with their scent, their warmth, their presence. And you—spread open, loved, cherished—felt nothing but safe. Held. Worshipped.

The emotion bubbled up too fast to stop. You reached for Baby, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as you pulled him into a hug, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your chest tightened, tears pricking at your eyes. The rush of oxytocin, the weight of the moment—it cracked you open.

“Hey,” he whispered, surprised. But he didn’t hesitate—his arms wrapped around you tight, grounding you with the weight of him. His cock pressed against your stomach, leaving hot, wet streaks across your skin.

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, voice small and trembling from the storm of hormones still crashing through your bloodstream.

“I love you,” you whispered against his skin, the words quiet and unguarded, but undeniable.

His breath caught. Then a low chuckle rumbled through his chest—a sound full of affection and something darker underneath. He hugged you tighter, almost possessive now, like you were something fragile and precious that he’d never let go of again.

“I love you too,” he murmured, voice rough with something ancient and reverent. Then it dropped lower, edged with heat. “So remember that, sweetheart…”

He leaned back just enough to meet your eyes, and you saw the shift happen.

His usual stormy irises bled into glowing gold, his pupils narrowing into slits. Demon marks bloomed across his cheeks and shoulders, glowing faintly like constellations against his sweat-slicked skin. Power shimmered beneath the surface of his body like it was waiting to be unleashed.

“Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Then Baby kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.

His mouth moved over yours with slow-burning hunger, devouring you sweetly, endlessly, like he had all the time in the world—and every second of it belonged to you. His thumb stroked under your jaw, coaxing your lips wider, deeper, and when his tongue slipped inside, it was a tease first... then a promise. He tasted you like a man who knew you were his.

Your body melted into the bed, still trembling with aftershocks. But Baby—he was steady. Anchoring. Addictive.

When he finally pulled away, it was with a soft, slick sound and a breathless, almost drunk chuckle against your lips.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice thick, honeyed with heat. 

Before you could answer, he was already moving—hands sliding down your sides with a kind of reverence that made your breath hitch. Then, effortlessly, he flipped you onto your stomach.

The gasp that left you was muffled by the pillow, your pulse skipping wildly as the cool air kissed your newly exposed skin. Your thighs instinctively pressed together, but his hands were already there—palming your hips, spreading you open.

“Fuck, look at you…” Baby breathed, the reverence in his voice laced with something rougher now. Need. Claim. Hunger.

You felt his gaze like a touch, dragging down the curve of your spine. His fingers followed, painting a trail of heat over your skin as he straddled your thighs, settling his weight lightly against you. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades. Another just above the dip of your lower back. And another—lower still.

He exhaled like he was worshipping.

Then his hands found your ass, and his palms molded to the flesh like they were made to. He squeezed softly at first, groaning low in his throat.

“So pretty,” he murmured. “So fucking soft.”

You whimpered into the sheets, the muscles in your thighs twitching under his touch. You were already wet again, breath coming in shallow bursts. You could feel his cock against the back of your thigh—hard, heavy, leaking. But he didn’t rush. Baby never rushed when it came to you.

He massaged one cheek, then the other, slow and steady. His thumbs circled into the muscle like he was mapping you, relearning you, worshipping every inch. And when he spread you open just enough to look… a low groan vibrated from his chest.

“You’re dripping,” he rasped, the hunger in his voice sharpened now. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Needed to feel me right here…”

He kissed the back of your thigh, then trailed his lips up until they reached the base of your spine.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he whispered, resting his forehead against your skin for a moment, like he was collecting himself. “I don’t ever wanna let another soul see you like this. Not even in their dreams.”

Smack.

His hand came down, hard and sharp, the sound cracking through the thick air like lightning.

You gasped—hips jolting, thighs flexing. But the sting bloomed into heat almost instantly, warm and aching, and your body betrayed you.

You clenched around nothing.

Baby’s breath hitched audibly. His fingers stilled for a beat. Then he laughed—low, breathless, aroused. Dark amusement curling in his throat.

“…Oh?” he murmured, trailing his palm across the reddened skin, fingertips grazing the dip beneath. “What was that, sweetheart...?” His fingers slid lower, between your thighs, brushing over your slick heat with practiced ease. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

You tried to muffle the sound building in your throat, burying your face in the sheets. But it was no use. He could feel everything.

He leaned closer, mouth near your ear, voice a velvet rasp. “Don’t hide it. I want it all. All your sounds, all your reactions.” Another spank—firmer this time. “Every. Single. One.”

You moaned again, thighs trembling. The rhythm of it was maddening. Punishing. Addictive. Not too hard—but sharp enough to make your toes curl. Sharp enough that the edge of pain bled perfectly into pleasure, and your body welcomed it.

Smack. Smack.

The others were silent behind you, the room heavy with heat and breath. You could feel their eyes. Hear the restrained exhales. Someone cursed softly. Someone else shifted like they were holding back the urge to move.

Baby’s smile stretched wider, that dark satisfaction glittering in his eyes as he dragged his palm down again—massaging, teasing the sore flesh like he owned every inch of you. Each slap was a promise, and each pause in between was worse—because that’s when he stroked you. Slow. Intentional. His thumb brushed through your folds, fingers gliding through the slick mess he’d pulled from you, spreading it deliberately like he wanted you to feel just how soaked you were.

Then he turned his head, slow and lazy, looking back at his hyungs over his shoulder with his slitted golden eyes. His lips curled, fangs peeking past them in a smirk that was pure sin.

“Go on,” he purred, voice like silk soaked in heat. “Enjoy the view.”

His hand dipped again between your thighs, fingers moving with reverence and filth. He gathered your wetness without shame, collecting it until it coated him entirely. Then he lifted his hand, slowly, letting your slick shine under the low light—each droplet catching like crystal. He tilted his wrist just enough to make it drip, to let it glisten for them.

His fingers shimmered like temptation as he held them there—unapologetic, triumphant.

“God, you're such a menace.” one of his hyungs muttered, voice rough, laced with something darker.

“Tease,” another growled under his breath, eyes locked to Baby’s hand like it was a threat and a dare all at once.

Baby just smirked, wicked and slow, basking in their frustration like it fed him.

“You say that like I’m not doing you a favor,” he drawled, tongue brushing across his lips before he slid those fingers into his mouth. He sucked them in deep, moaning softly like you were the only thing he ever wanted to taste. His eyes stayed locked on the others, daring them to speak again as his tongue curled around each digit, lips sealing tight before he let them slip free with a soft, obscene pop.

His breath came heavier now, his restraint cracking at the edges.

Then his hand trailed back down, this time wrapping around the thick length of him. He groaned just under his breath as he stroked himself in long, deliberate pulls. Your slick made every movement obscene, wet sounds barely muffled by the tension in the room. He coated himself in you, from base to tip, slow and purposeful like he was painting your name onto his cock.

His head tilted back slightly, breath catching in his throat, throat bobbing as he exhaled.

“God,” he muttered, voice rougher now. “Even my cock knows who it belongs to.”

You buried your face into the pillows, a soft, broken sound escaping your lips. Your whole body trembled, heat coiling low and tight in your belly. The weight of their eyes pressed down on you—hot, dark, hungry—and the attention only made you ache more, want more.

You whimpered.

He didn’t hesitate.

One strong hand curved around your waist and dragged you back against him—possessive, greedy. Like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between your body and his. You felt the thick head of his cock press between your folds—hot, heavy, and unforgiving. He rubbed it along your entrance, back and forth, with maddening slowness.

“You want me to put it in, sweetheart?” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “Want me to stretch you open while they watch how good you take it?”

Your head bobbed in a frantic nod, hips pressing back against him on instinct, but that wasn’t enough for him. Not even close.

“No,” he growled, the sound curling against your ear. “Use your words, babygirl. I want to hear you beg for it.”

The command wrapped around your spine and squeezed. You shuddered, your voice trembling as you forced the words out between broken breaths.

“Please… I want your cock. I want you inside me. I need it…need you inside.”

He groaned, the sound raw and ruined.

“Good girl”

Then—finally—he pressed in.

The thick head of him slid against your entrance, not just blunt and hot but devastatingly slow, like he needed you to feel it all. To know exactly what you’d begged for. Your back arched as he began to sink in, inch by torturous inch, stretching you open, filling you with a groan that vibrated through both your bodies.

“That’s it,” he breathed, almost to himself, eyes fluttering shut. “You take me so well...”

When his hips finally met yours, his cock buried to the hilt, there was a beat of silence. Just feeling. Just stretch. Your body clenching instinctively around him as if it already knew it was his.

One hand smoothed slowly along your spine, almost tender—then tangled in your hair and tugged. Not rough, but firm enough to drag a gasp from your throat, your mouth parting with a shivery cry. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“You take me too well,” he murmured, teeth grazing your skin. “Like you were made to be fucked like this.”

His grip shifted, one hand sliding down to press into your lower back, guiding you into the perfect arch. The other trailed to your throat—not choking, just grounding you, a silent claim. You barely had time to brace yourself before he pulled back, leaving only the thick tip inside you.

And then he slammed back in.

The sharp smack of skin meeting skin echoed in the air, loud and filthy and perfect. You cried out, the sound mixing with his broken moan, a harmony of ruin.

“Fuck—there she is,” he growled, voice dark and thrilled. “Knew you could take it. Knew this pussy would open up for me.”

Then came the rhythm. Relentless. Brutal. His hips snapped forward again and again, each thrust punishing, precise. Your body rocked under him, shoved toward the edge of the bed only for his grip to drag you back down the length of him, keeping you right where he wanted.

Every movement was slick, wet, loud—the sound of need made flesh.

He was panting now, jaw clenched, eyes burning into your back as if he could see through your skin to where he lived inside you.

“Ohh… o-oh fuck, Baby!” you mewl, voice muffled by the sheets as your face was shoved down, your spine in a deep arch, ass up and trembling. The silver bell around your neck jingled with every breathless gasp, soft and helpless, the sound driving him wild.

“Please—please, harder—ah!” you cried, reaching back toward him without thinking, fingers flexing, desperate for more. The soft chime followed your movements, that teasing little bell giving you away, betraying every tremble, every needy shift.

He snatched your wrists without hesitation, pinning them in one hand like it was nothing, using them for leverage as he slammed back into you.

“Harder?” he echoed with a mocking pout, voice dark with amusement. “Poor little thing. You’re already drooling all over the sheets, and this still isn’t enough?” He leaned over your back, hips pistoning forward as the sound of your skin clapping against his grew louder, filthier. 

You choked on a sob, the shame and pleasure tangling beautifully.

He growled low as he let go of your arms, pushing you even deeper into the mattress with one heavy palm between your shoulder blades. The other gripped your hip, fingers bruising as he adjusted your angle with brutal precision.

“Oh—right there—, more! More, please—just like that—” you cried, completely undone, lips parted, eyes fluttering back in your skull. The jingle of your bell matched the rhythm of his thrusts, sharp and merciless.

“Yeah?” he taunted. “You gonna come from just this? Bent over like a bitch in heat, drooling all over my cock?”

“Fuck yourself, babygirl,” he growled, low and dark, the words dragging over your skin like smoke. Smack. His palm landed hot and sharp across your ass, making you jerk forward before he tugged you right back into place. “Since you’re such a greedy little slut.”

You whimpered, already aching, and obeyed, shifting forward just enough to sink your hips down onto him, the head of his cock splitting you open with ease. One hand gripped your ass cheek, spreading yourself shamelessly as you turned to look over your shoulder at him, eyes wide and glazed with need. 

A moan ripped from your throat as his heavy length filled you, stretching you wide. You could feel the weight of his balls slap against your clit each time you rocked your hips back, the pressure sending sharp pulses of heat straight through your core.

He groaned, head falling back for a second before his hands gripped your ankles hard, yanking them wider with a growl. You were helpless like this, knees dug into the bed, back arched and pussy swallowing him whole while your bell gave a soft, desperate jingle.

“G-give it to me, baby…” you panted, pouting through the moans. “Wan’ it so bad, please…”

That earned a dark laugh, low and dangerous.

“Now you’ve done it.”

That little pout undid him. His hand fisted in your hair, shoving your face back into the sheets. The other curled around the back of your neck, thumb pressed just under your jaw as his hips slammed up into you with a punishing rhythm.

You let out a cry as he ground himself into you, the thick head of his cock pressing right up against your cervix—hot, heavy, and unrelenting.

“Such a filthy little thing,” he hissed, hips snapping fast and deep. “My desperate, cock-drunk slut... fuck, I’m close. Where do you want it, sweetheart? Beg for it.”

The bed jolted beneath you, headboard rocking as he chased his release. Your bell jingled with every thrust, a soft chime under the sound of skin slapping and breathless moans.

You could barely form words, your body burning, breath caught in your throat.

“I-inside! Don’t miss—nngh! Please, please, can I—c-can I cum? Please—m’cumming!”

Your voice broke into a sob as your body clenched around him, hips jerking uncontrollably. That question—your begging—made his cock throb inside you.

The second you said it, he lost it.

A growl ripped out of him, low and feral, as his hips stuttered hard. His cock twitched deep inside you, slamming into your cervix, and suddenly he leaned down fast, teeth sinking into your shoulder—right where your shirt wouldn’t ever cover.

You screamed his name, eyes rolling back as your pussy locked down around him, gushing hard, soaking the sheets. The room spun. Every nerve in your body snapped tight with your orgasm.

He moaned into your skin, voice trembling. “F-fuck—I love you.”

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft.

It was possessive, broken, real—something dark and violent underneath it, like he’d rather die than let anyone else touch you.

“I love you,” he repeated again, panting against your neck as his hips jerked through your orgasm, rutting into your soaked cunt with a desperation that bordered on obsession. “You’re mine. You’re mine forever. You hear me? No one else gets you. No one. I’ll fucking kill them.”

Your fingers clawed at the sheets, overwhelmed, overstimulated, but the sound of his voice—the way he meant every word—pushed you over the edge again. Your cunt milked his cock greedily, begging for more even as his hips slammed into you, burying himself to the hilt.

You could barely speak, body spasming as wave after wave tore through you, but you choked out, “Y-yours—Baby, I’m yours—!”

That was all it took.

He came with a guttural moan, thick white heat spilling into your womb in long, punishing spurts, cock still grinding into the mark he made, into the mess he created. You sobbed against the sheets as it leaked out around him, your body spent, but he wouldn’t pull out—not yet.

One hand stayed firm around your neck, and the other slid up to cup your breast possessively. His hips finally stilled, but he didn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear, breath warm and unsteady.

“I love you,” he whispered again, calmer now, voice dark and dreamy as he nuzzled your hair.  “Even if you run, even if you fight it.”

He kissed the spot where his teeth had bitten, tongue dragging lazily over the angry mark.

“I’ll find you.”

You could feel him smile against your skin. Not soft. Not sweet. But something darker—proud.

“I’ll always find you. You’re mine until the end.”

You could still feel the bite stinging as his thumb brushed over it lazily, proud.

Baby pulled out slowly, dragging a groan from deep in his chest, like even his body hated leaving yours. You whimpered as he slipped free, your hips twitching at the sudden emptiness, the wet slide of him retreating leaving you raw, aching, and flooded with heat.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing his fingers over your spine as he leaned down and kissed the bite he’d left. “You took me so well. So perfect for us.”

You couldn’t speak. Could barely move. Your legs trembled beneath you, slick and heat dripping down your thighs, your breath caught somewhere between a moan and a sob. But the mark—his mark—burned gently at your shoulder, and the glow pulsing under your skin matched the shimmer now emanating from Baby’s body.

The same supernatural light that had bathed Mystery now pulsed beneath Baby’s demon form, illuminating his toned chest, the curve of his horns, the ridges of his claws. His golden eyes glowed brighter than before, as if the bond had deepened his very nature. Another thread of fate now tied to your soul.

He gave you one last lingering glance, the kind that scorched, before walking away from the bed. His steps were slow, smug, and soaked in pride as he joined the others.

Jinu was the first to speak, laughing low and sharp as he clapped Baby on the back. “You really had to go full demon, huh?”

“You and Mystery did,” Abby added, arms crossed over his chest, glowing marks crawling over his skin like chains of flame. “Was that necessary?”

“Completely,” Baby said with zero shame, licking his bottom lip like he could still taste you. “She was begging for it.”

“She’s not just marked,” Abby said, voice tighter, jaw clenched. “She’s bonded. I can feel it pulling—like it’s wrapping around us too.”

“It is,” Mystery confirmed quietly. “It’s not just growing. It’s tightening. She’s sinking into us now. Thread by thread.”

Baby grinned wickedly. “Then I guess we should keep going before it snaps.”

Romance stepped forward with a soft tsk, rolling his shoulders as he loosened his neck. The gold in his eyes flickered like firelight, and his smile was slow, fond, dangerous.

“You two came in like monsters,” He stepped closer, eyeing Mystery’s fangs and the lingering glow beneath Baby’s skin. Romance himself was still in his human form, but the jagged black markings crawling up his chest and neck shimmered like they were alive, and his golden eyes burned. “Horns out, claws bared, glowing like the underworld itself.”

Romance let out a quiet breath, half a laugh, and then turned his glowing gaze back to the others. “I guess it’s my job now… to take care of her properly. Gently. Sweetly. Like she deserves.”

Jinu scoffed. “You? Gentle?”

“I can be,” Romance said, voice silken. “Sometimes.”

Abby leaned against the wall, arms still crossed, but the strain in his shoulders betrayed him. “I give you five minutes before you’re growling into her neck and marking her so hard we see the bite from space.”

Romance grinned wider. “Jealous?”

“I’ll be next,” Abby said darkly. “So you better not break her.”

Romance turned back to the bed slowly, his eyes drinking you in. The teasing glint was gone, replaced by something deeper, darker. Hunger laced with reverence. Like the sight of you—wrecked, panting, shimmering with the marks of the others—had snapped something inside him.

He moved with that signature grace, slow and deliberate, like every step was meant to wind you tighter. His voice dropped, low and smooth like silk sliding over heat. “Poor little kitten… they were so rough with you, weren’t they?”

You nodded weakly, instinctive, wordless. Your body leaned into his touch the second his hand cupped your cheek, your mouth brushing against his palm like you couldn’t help it. You kissed it, soft and slow, then dragged your tongue along the warm, slightly calloused skin, desperate to taste more.

Just like a kitten.

Romance’s lips curled at the edges, equal parts amused and enthralled by how pliant you were for him. You, still trembling from the others, still chose to reach for him.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “So good for me already.” His hand slid lower, long fingers gliding over your slick folds. “Need me to make it better?”

“Mm-hmm,” you whimpered, nodding again. “Please… hurts, need you…”

Your words tangled and broke apart as the pad of his finger circled your clit, slow and cruel, dragging it out. Your hips jolted, lips parting in a shaky moan.

“Such a good girl,” Romance said with a soft laugh, but his eyes burned gold. “That mouth, and that body. You were meant to be worshipped, you know that?”

Before you could answer, he shifted, leaning back against the headboard and tugging you with him. His grip was firm, commanding, and somehow still gentle as he spun you around with one fluid motion. Your back now faced him, your thighs still trembling. Then he lifted you, his hands strong under your hips as if you weighed nothing at all.

A soft gasp escaped you as he guided you down, settling you onto his lap, straddling his waist. Your knees sank into the mattress on either side of him, thighs spread, your core pressed hot and aching against the thick line of him beneath you.

He groaned low, head falling back briefly at the contact, before his hands roamed, palming your hips, your waist, your thighs, slow and worshipful. 

“Look at you, baby,” he murmured, voice curling against your neck. “Sitting so pretty like this. You know what that does to me?”

You arched slightly, grinding down on him with a needy whine, the motion sending a sharp ripple of pleasure through both of you.

Romance’s answering chuckle was dark and low, curling through your spine like smoke. “Greedy little thing,” he murmured, his voice dipping into that rich, velvet tone he knew made you melt. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you everything.”

One hand slid up your spine, his touch soothing and possessive all at once, while the other held you firmly in place. His lips brushed your shoulder, warm and lingering, fangs just grazing the skin like a warning wrapped in affection.

A breathy, broken sound slipped from your lips as you shifted, thighs trembling from how full you were. His cock sat impossibly deep inside you, thick and heavy, nudging at a spot that had your breath hitching and your skin prickling with heat. The stretch was intense—almost too much—and yet you couldn’t stop. You’d taken him slow, careful, inch by inch, like your body knew it needed to feel every second of it.

And Romance… he just watched.

Watched while your back arched, while your hips stuttered, while the blush on your cheeks bloomed like a secret only he was allowed to see. His thighs twitched beneath you, betraying just how badly he wanted to move. But he didn’t. He stayed still, breath coming in slow, uneven waves, as if anchoring himself to the moment.

“Romance…” your voice broke, barely audible, like a breath of wind. “It’s… it’s too deep.”

He moved then, slow and deliberate. His hands came to rest on your hips—big, warm palms anchoring you, but not demanding. He didn’t grip or force; he just held you there, thumbs stroking gently over your skin like he was calming something wild and precious.

“Yeah?” he murmured, voice sweet and low against your ear. “Feelin’ full, baby?”

You shuddered when he leaned forward, chest brushing against your back, his lips ghosting along your shoulder. He kissed the skin there—once, twice—then pulled back just enough to admire the curve of your spine, the way your body sat so perfectly on top of him.

You whimpered, head tipping forward.

“I know, baby,” he whispered, his voice smooth as silk but steeped in hunger. “But you’re takin’ me so good. Look at you—already stretched open so pretty, just for me.”

The words made your whole body tense with heat, your nails biting into his thighs beneath you. You could feel how deep he was, how your walls fluttered just trying to adjust.

“Just roll your hips,” he whispered, that gentleness threading into something heavier, deeper. “Nice and slow. Like you do when you’re sittin’ on Mystery’s face… all needy and spoiled.”

Your stomach clenched. “Romance—!” you gasped, mortified and turned on all at once.

“Mm-mm,” he hummed behind you, one hand smoothing up your spine, the other tightening just slightly on your hip. “Don’t get shy now, kitten. You were so good for him. So greedy with those slow, little rolls of your hips. Rubbin’ yourself all over his mouth, moanin’ like you wanted the whole world to hear.”

You whimpered, face burning as your walls fluttered around him.

“Yeah… made the prettiest sounds too,” he continued, breath warm on your neck. “I want that. Want you. Show me how much you need me.”

Your breath hitched as you did exactly what he asked—rolled your hips, slow and unsure. His cock dragged deep inside you, the thick length brushing against spots that made your vision blur, made your toes curl. A soft moan spilled from your lips as your hands flew back, fingers splayed across the hard ridges of his abs for balance.

“There you go,” Romance said, praise heavy in every word. “That’s it, kitten...just like that. So perfect like this.”

He tilted his hips slightly beneath you, adjusting the angle just enough that when you moved again, you choked on a gasp. Your eyes fluttered, body arching instinctively, chasing that same drag, that same high.

“Fuck,” he groaned behind you, hands sliding up your waist, holding you like he never wanted to let go. “You feel that, baby? How deep I am? You’re so good for me. Look at you—riding my cock like you were meant to.”

You whimpered, the rhythm of your hips stuttering as heat built low in your stomach. He was letting you ride him, but you weren’t in control—not really. Not when every movement pulled you deeper into him, not when his hands made you feel owned and worshipped in the same breath.

“I’ll guide you, baby,” Romance murmured, nuzzling your shoulder, his breath hot and tender against your skin. “I’ll help you take it. Just like this. Let me give you everything…”

You rolled your hips like he said, letting out a shaky breath as you took him to a new, aching depth, stretching open around the thick weight of him. The silver bell tied around your throat gave a soft jingle with every shift, its delicate chime lost beneath the wet sounds of your bodies meeting.

You kept moving, rocking your hips with slow, messy rhythm, his cock dragging against every swollen nerve inside you. A pretty string of moans escaped your lips, soft, breathy sighs of his name like prayer.

Your eyes fluttered shut, head tipping back as you gave yourself over to the moment. You were on top now, your pace, your rhythm, your control, and Romance watched you with something dark and proud in his eyes, chest rising heavy beneath you like he was trying not to lose it.

“There you go, kitten…” he groaned, voice warm and velvet-sweet. “Atta girl. You got it.”

His praise only spurred you on. You braced your hands on his thighs and began to bounce, harder, deeper, each movement punching out a whimper as his cock rammed into your cervix again and again. The sharp slap of skin echoed through the room, punctuated by the shaky sound of your bell.

But your strength was slipping. Just a few bounces and your thighs trembled, your rhythm faltering as the burn set in. You whimpered and dropped back into that needy grind, rolling your hips over him instead, desperate to keep the friction.

Romance snickered behind you, smug and lazy-sounding. “Already tired, baby?” His voice was teasing, but laced with hunger.  “Can’t even ride it properly?”

“So big,” you gasped out, voice cracking with the effort. “I can’t…”

He leaned up behind you slowly, like a predator rising to devour. One hand reached around to brush the hair clinging to your damp cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. The other ran up your trembling thighs and settled firmly on your hips.

“Does it burn?” His voice dropped low, almost tender, and it made your eyes snap open, breath hitching. “Want me to help, kitten?”

You nodded weakly, panting. “Yeah…”

“That’s okay, baby,” he whispered, mouth trailing up your shoulder as he pressed close to your back. “I got you.”

He kissed along your spine, then your neck, nuzzling just beneath the ribbon. The bell chimed again as he caught the knot between his teeth, tugging playfully before kissing the side of your throat. You moaned helplessly, your body clenching around him.

Then his arm curled tight around your waist and he sat up fully, pulling you flush against his chest as he began to thrust from below, slow at first, then harder, deeper, until your breath shattered in your lungs.

His other hand slid up to cup your breasts, kneading gently as you cried out. Every movement sent the bell around your neck ringing in time with the filthy rhythm he set.

“Just stay right here,” he rasped against your ear, thrusts snapping up into your soaked heat. “Let me fuck you properly, kitten…”

“Sooo tight,” Romance groaned, dragging the word out like he was tasting it, like the sound alone might make him come. His voice was low and rough with restraint, every syllable thick with need. “Squeezin’ me like you were made for it.”

You gasped, breath catching in your throat as his hips rolled up into you—slow, precise, like he knew the angles that made your body crumble. You leaned back against his chest, dizzy with fullness, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to your skin. The bell at your throat gave the faintest jingle as your head lolled to the side, exposing your throat.

Romance’s mouth found your jaw, breath hot as he murmured, “You gonna come like this? Sittin’ so pretty on my cock?”

You nodded, helplessly, barely able to speak. You were so close—your body drawn tight like a bow, every muscle trembling. Your clit pulsed with every slow thrust, and each time he helped you drop down again, the thick head of his cock hit so deep your vision blurred.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

Then he moved. Swift and sure, like instinct, he spun you around in his lap, hands never leaving your skin. Now chest to chest, breath tangled with his, you watched his eyes flicker—dark and wild. And then he kissed you.

God, did he kiss you.

It wasn’t gentle—it was desperate. Hungry. Tongue pushing past your lips like he owned your mouth, like he was claiming it. The kiss was open-mouthed and breathless, hips grinding up into yours at the same time, forcing you to feel every inch of him, again and again.

Your hands curled into his hair as he dropped his mouth lower. His tongue flattened and dragged slow over your nipple, then flicked fast, then sucked deep, cheeks hollowing like he was trying to drink something out of you. It wasn’t gentle—it was needy, possessive, downright filthy.

“Could suck these for hours,” he muttered between licks, the words hot against your soaked skin. “Sweet little tits all bared for me…”

His other hand didn’t rest—it squeezed your other breast like a stress toy, rolling your nipple between his fingers absently, as though he couldn’t stop touching, couldn’t get enough of you. Every graze sent heat pooling low in your belly, dragging you closer to the edge.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his back as he thrust up into you again, and your moan shattered in his mouth when he latched back on.

“You feel that?” he rasped, pulling back to press his forehead to yours. “That’s me, baby. Deep in your belly. You own this, yeah?”

You nodded, sobbed, kissed him—and he kissed you back.

Not soft. Not sweet.

Starved.

Mouths crashing together like you both couldn’t breathe without the other. His hand curled behind your neck, tilting your face as he devoured every sound you made. The kiss was hot, messy, so full of tongue and teeth that your head spun, your hips grinding down on instinct.

And all the while, that little bell on your ribbon chimed with every movement—proof that you were theirs. That you wanted to be caught.

“Come for me,” he growled against your lips, fucking up hard enough to bounce you. “Wanna feel you milk me.”

You shattered with a cry that was more sob than moan, clinging to Romance like you might fall apart without him. Your orgasm wracked through you in hot, helpless waves, muscles locking, body squeezing him so tight he hissed through clenched teeth.

And that’s when he bit you.

Right above your breast, right where your heart pounded the hardest.

The sting was sharp—then searing, as his fangs sank in deep and purposeful. You could feel it burn into you, not just skin, but soul. His name. His claim. The third mark. A flash of heat rippled out from the bite, curling deep between your legs.

Romance groaned against you, his demon form unfurling in one slow, possessive wave. Glowing marks shimmered across his chest and down his arms like. His horns curled higher, molten at the tips, and his irises burned amber-bright with hunger and devotion.

A long, thick tail slid out from behind him, dark and sleek, glistening faintly in the low light. It moved like it had a mind of its own, sinuous and sure as it curled around your thigh first, then your waist, until it looped around your hips in a slow, claiming spiral. The tip brushed your inner thigh, a soft, heart-shaped end that pulsed with heat, teasing where you were still trembling.

It didn’t stop moving. With every aftershock that rolled through you, the tail squeezed tighter in gentle pulses, like it could feel your release, like it was syncing with your rhythm. Possessing every part of you it could reach.

You collapsed into his chest, utterly boneless, breath hitching as your body throbbed around him.

He spilled inside you with a choked moan, then collapsed forward, bracing his weight just enough not to crush you. But he didn’t pull away. He wrapped himself around you tighter, possessive even in his exhaustion.

Kisses followed, desperate and fluttering down your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest. His voice was low and trembling, full of something broken and dangerously sweet.

“I love you,” he whispered against the bite. “I love you. I love you. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

His arms curled around you like he thought someone might try to take you away. You couldn’t breathe under the weight of it—of him—and you didn’t want to.

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me,” he breathed, voice shaking. “You ruined me the second you looked at me. You think I’ll ever stop? That I’ll ever let you go?”

You shivered as his tongue brushed the mark again, his breath burning against your skin.

“I’ll kill for you.”

“Gentle, huh?” Baby drawled, his tone full of smug amusement. “That was your idea of being soft?”

Romance didn’t even glance their way. He tucked your face against his throat, shielding you from their teasing like you were something fragile.

“She came so hard she forgot her own name,” Mystery added lazily, his voice velvety and teasing. “You trying to wife her up or melt her from the inside out?”

Romance didn’t look away from you. His hand brushed tenderly along your cheekbone, thumb grazing your lips. His eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, soft in a way that made your stomach twist.

Behind him, his tail slid forward, uncoiling with a slow, serpentine grace. It curled around your leg, then wrapped around your waist like a second embrace, warm and steady. The heart-shaped tip traced small, soothing circles on your lower back, like it was trying to calm the flutter still trembling in your limbs. It wasn’t teasing. It was gentle. Protective. His.

“Whatever she needs,” he murmured, voice rough with heat. “I’ll give it to her.”

Jinu let out a low chuckle from the couch, the sound teasing but warm. “Don’t forget, lover boy—she’s still got two more marks to go.”

That finally pulled Romance’s gaze. He looked up, slow and unbothered, and smiled. Not a cocky grin. Not a smirk. It was quieter. Darker. The kind of smile that didn’t need to prove a thing—because they knew.

Knew you were already theirs.

Knew you weren’t going anywhere.

Already half-marked. Already ruined. Already his.

“I didn’t forget,” Romance murmured, finally answering his brothers without looking away from you.

Abby’s voice rumbled next, deeper than the rest, like thunder under skin. “Good. 'Cause it’s my turn now.”

But Romance wasn’t finished.

He looked back down at you, his expression softening, like the storm had quieted just for you alone. His palm cupped your cheek as if you were something precious, untouchable, and his. His tail coiled tighter around your waist for just a moment, almost like it didn’t want to let go.

He leaned in, brushing your hair gently away from your face. Then his lips found yours, slow, deep, claiming. The kind of kiss that didn’t just say mine, it carved it into you. Then another kiss, warm against your cheekbone. Then lower... his mouth lingering over the sensitive swell of your breast, where his mark still shimmered faintly against your skin like it glowed just for him.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he whispered, breath ghosting over your skin. His voice was rough, tender, full of heat and pride all at once. “Just two more. And then you’ll be ours. Completely.”

His tail gave one last teasing brush between your legs before slipping away entirely, like a secret.

“Good luck...”

And with that, he eased you forward into Abby’s arms.

It felt like falling into a furnace.

Abby caught you effortlessly, one arm locking around your waist while the other gripped your thigh and pulled you flush against him. His skin was hot to the touch, glowing faintly with the marks pulsing down his arms and across his chest like they were alive. His breath hit your ear, ragged and hungry.

“I’ve waited long enough, sweetheart.”

His hand slid over your hip, squeezing like he already owned it.

“Let’s see how much of that pretty strength you’ve got left.”

And then he moved.

Effortless. Commanding. He laid you down beneath him with a hunger just barely restrained, his eyes raking over you like you were something sacred—something he’d been denied for far too long.

And right before his mouth met yours, he smiled against your skin and growled

“Bet you’ll break just right for me.”

To be continued...

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @libdarkheart @amery-benson-cvii @nubyeol @type-ink @tiredlittlevirgo @wtfgiyuu23 @i-am-here3 @mxn14 @buttermilktea11 @the-bookish-artist @ironsaladwitch @zuoran03 @aurorarose2112 @permanenceimp @otakuudere666 @attackonjacksons @ikykwkleeknowwww @what-just-happened-to-me @yharnam-prophet @yuurisfavblog @cici4954 @boo-shalala @wonwoossglasses @b-bianka-13 @wthamidoingwithmylife @ashleygryffindor @littlewhitefairy7777 @herondale-lightworm @pl4netx1a @rivainimermaid @lionheart178 @irethepotato @gl00muraaii @blurghbleep @ateezswonderland @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @amery-benson-cvii @katzline @the-fanss @sylum @call-me-nyxx @craftygamerscrafts @keikeikeikeie @existingtoreadfanfics @suika-ira @cherrybb-ily  @3vrenie @determinednature @2emotionallyunstable @fxckinbreathe @starfishfaerie @aurorab-0-realis @baby-bread-in @sra7riddle-malfoy @frostbitetrap-blog @athena-portgas @piancqwrites @soleilscb @cottonheadedninnymugggins @scara-simp69

[yonakaruz]

Leona said he doesn't really care about ○○ (¬⤙¬ )

Here comes the youngest! Read the remaining 2 pages on my ko-fi here! Don't miss it~

[yonakaruz]

Got another idea! I kinda imagine that Yuu is the biological daughter of Bruce Wayne aka Batman that got sent by accident into Twisted Wonderland so the story goes like this....

Yuu, the magicless human. They look like some normal humans with very big disadvantages, right? Wrong

NRC is in for a surprise because HOW THE HECK IS SHE THAT PERFECT?!

Her grade even for the magic class is perfect for theory

Her PE class? She learns martial arts and even knows fencing?! (They know this after the duel using swords between Yuu and Sebek)

Her art? She is so good at drawing that she can par up to the professional at that. (She said something about usually bonding with her little brother by drawing together)

Her knowledge about technology? She know how to code or create some technology (Idia needs to reset his security when Yuu just walks inside his room without his permission, how do they do it? By decoding)

Horse Riding? Check that please (Riddle are extremely surprised at that)

Dancing? What type? You just ask her and she knows most of the dance (Saying about how her family usually gets invited for some big event)

Her beauty? (It up to your standart)

With so many more talent, NRC students raise a question about who is she in her world. But she managed to take herself as some normal student with a normal family in her world. Sensible with money too and sometimes act a little stinky but the plus point is she is actually very good at entrepreneurial type of things. (Yuu said that it was a gene from her father)

Yeah, with all of that no one complained when she was called the princess of NRC. She is perfect that even her magicam also gains a very significant amount of fans.

So, imagine their surprise when the portal between their two worlds is managed to be connected and they can travel up between two worlds.

When Yuu invited them (The Overblot students and her friends) to come and meet her family, they were in shock (most of them) because WHY THE HECK YOUR HOUSE IS A MANSION?!

I want to make it into a series... But I didn't know what this should be called? Any ideas?

[yonakaruz]

I called this series....

Gotham Wonderland Series

Gotham Yuu x Twisted Wonderland

Is she rich?

Note: When everyone doesn't know about Yuu's wealth in her real world, but habit can't lie

A little background: Yuu is a biological daughter of Bruce Wayne. She is older than Damien but younger than the rest.

Heartslabyul Edition!

Riddle Roseheart

Riddle had been observing Yuu ever since she joined their world. Polite, a little too calm in chaos, surprisingly articulate, and absurdly poised for someone who got isekai’d without warning. But he start to observe more closely and notice something about her...

The way she reached for a teacup and tilted it precisely 45 degrees before setting it down. Her manners when eating dessert with not a single crumbs or mess in the plate. She moved like someone who attended etiquette classes at five and never forgot a single lesson.

Riddle blinked.

Then Yuu adjusted the cutlery with muscle memory spacing each fork and knife exactly 1 inch apart. She even angled the dessert spoon toward the center of the table setting like it was a black-tie dinner and corrected Trey’s plating without looking.

“...Yuu.”

“Yes?” she turned, casually tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an elegant gesture that seemed choreographed.

“Why... do you know which direction the dessert fork is supposed to face?”

She paused. “Oh. Habit.”

Riddle squinted. “What kind of habit?”

She smiled enigmatically. “My... father was a stickler for presentation especially for the dinner parties. You either learn fast or get stabbed by a salad fork.”

Riddle opened his mouth. Closed it. “...What kind of dinner parties did you attend?”

“The usual kind, of course. You make it sound like you never attend one before.” she said offhandedly, reaching over to adjust the teapot so the handle faced the correct side. “This teapot is lovely, by the way. Is it Wedgwood?”

Riddle didn’t even know what Wedgwood was, and suddenly he felt like the peasant in a royal court. Yuu, meanwhile, cheerfully folded the napkins into swans without instructions like she just playing around.

Trey Clover

Yuu decide to offer some help for Trey in the kitchen to bake some of the cakes since the next party is soon. Trey happily agree.

“Can you hand me the vanilla?” Trey asked, not looking up as he whisked the batter.

Yuu passed him the bottle without looking at the label.

Trey paused mid-stir. “Wow, that was fast. How’d you know which one?”

Yuu tilted her head. “The scent. That one’s Madagascar vanilla. You use Tahitian when you want floral notes.”

“…You can tell that just from smell?”

“Of course,” she replied simply, as if everyone could.

Trey blinked, then went back to stirring. A minute later, he handed her a tray of strawberries. “Could you slice these?”

Yuu rolled up her sleeve and picked up the paring knife with the ease of someone who had practiced under a chef’s gaze and sliced each strawberry at a 30-degree angle, creating uniform little fans. Not a single jagged edge.

Trey leaned over with amazement. “You’ve done this before?”

She didn’t look up. “I used to help with some dinner night especially when we hosted charity balls. Dessert was expected to be both delicious and photogenic.”

“…Charity balls?”

Yuu blinked innocently. “Doesn’t everyone attend a few growing up?”

Trey narrowed his eyes. “Not unless you’re secretly nobility.”

“Oh, I’m not,” she said with a small smile. “Technically.”

Technically??

They moved on to assembling mini tart shells. Trey glanced over again — Yuu was plating the tarts in a perfect crescent shape, spacing them like she’d studied food symmetry under some high class pattisiere. And she was doing it absentmindedly, like she was used to catering it.

Trey coughed. “You sure you’re not from some high society family back home?”

Yuu, still focused on placing mint leaves, shrugged. “Depends on your definition of ‘high society.’”

And then she tossed a dish towel over her shoulder in one smooth, practiced motion. The way celebrity chefs do it.

Trey stared.

“…Yuu, be honest. Were you raised in a mansion?”

She looked at him. “....What with that question?”

Cater Diamond

Cater is bored and decide to dragged Yuu along to help him take selfies and set up a cute outdoor tea aesthetic for Magicam. Oh, he is on surprise.

“Okay, Yuu~! Just hold the teacup and smile like you're on a yacht in Sage’s Island. Real soft-girl vibes, y’know?” Cater said, grinning as he arranged the camera angle.

Yuu nodded and adjusted the cup in her hand but instead of a casual pose, she tilted her wrist delicately, raised her chin just slightly, and looked away from the camera with a natural, far-off expression.

Click.

Cater checked the photo — and froze.

“…Okay hold up. Why does this look like a luxury magazine ad??”

Yuu blinked. “I thought you wanted soft-girl vibes.”

“Girl, that is old money vibes. That’s heiress being silently judged by a duchess energy.”

“Oh,” Yuu replied, gently plucking a rose petal off the tablecloth without wrinkling the fabric. “Force of habit.”

Cater watched as she adjusted her posture, this time back straight, ankles crossed, wrist relaxed like she’d done this her whole life. When she poured tea for him, she twisted the pot just slightly at the end to avoid a drip. Not a splash. Not a tremble.

She even stirred counterclockwise. With silent wrist control.

“…Yuu, have you… modeled before?”

Yuu thinking about it for a moment before answering “Not officially., I think?"

“But you pose like you’ve been trained.”

“Maybe because I grew up attending press events and charity galas. You know how the media can be wild sometimes...” She said it casually, like someone would say “So, I had to make sure no bad picture is taken, y'know.”

Cater sat back with a plop. “Wait wait wait—what kind of galas?”

“Depending on the host? It can be a masked gala, it can be some beach theme gala, or-”

Cater stared at her flabbergasted hearing Yuu answer and glanced at his phone. The photos they took looked like editorial spreads. Yuu hadn’t smiled big once, just refined, natural grace like she’d been groomed to run a Fortune of 500 company like that.

“…Are you, like, secretly a princess or something?”

She chuckled softly. “Maybe”

Ace Trappola

At Heartslabyul lounge, late evening. Ace, Yuu, and Deuce are hanging out after chores. Ace brought snacks and Yuu brought tea. Everything seems normal at the first glance until he notice Yuu mannerism when drinking tea.

“Yo, Yuu,” Ace says with a grin, tossing a cookie in his mouth, “you always drink your tea like that? All slow and fancy?”

Yuu glances at her teacup that held daintily between her fingers, pinky slightly curled, saucer balanced on her other hand. “Like what?”

“Like you’re judging the peasants for breathing too loud.”

Yuu blinks and shrug. “I’m not judging anyone. That’s just… how I hold a cup.”

Ace snorts. “Man, even your shrugs look expensive.”

Yuu just smiles and takes another sip (no slurping and no clinking). Then she calmly reaches into her bag and pulls out a folded handkerchief, dabbing the corner of her mouth with the precision of someone trained to be photographed by tabloids mid-meal.

Ace leans toward Deuce. “Bro, who carries a real handkerchief at this age? Like… on purpose?”

Deuce whispers, “Maybe she’s part of a noble family?”

Yuu, still listening but pretending not to, crosses one leg over the other — knees angled perfectly, posture straight. And then she says, calmly, “The table here’s a little uneven and that candle would look better if you shift it 3 centimeters left. It’ll balance the symmetry.”

Ace stares.

“Wait. What?”

Yuu then continue looking around Heartslabyul interior. “I used to work with interior designers. So, this kind of things came naturally”

Ace tries not to choke on his cookie. “What are you, an architect??”

She turns to him with a casual smile. “I had lessons in visual arts, floral arrangement, and spatial etiquette. I also helped plan formal galas for ambassadors. So yes… maybe I can also be called architect?”

Ace makes a noise like a dying fish.

“…Okay but words of advice, Yuu-chan. Since you are new to this world, you shouldn't just go around acting like you own the school.”

Yuu raises an eyebrow, a graceful, unimpressed arch.

“I don’t need to act like I own it,” she says simply. “People behave better when you make them think you do.”

Deuce: chokes

Ace: “HUH?? WHO EVEN TALKS LIKE THAT?!”

Yeah, that night. Ace begun to had his own doubt now regarding Yuu identity...

Deuce Spade

Riddle assigned Deuce and Yuu (she volunteer to help) to host a tea session for a the next party. Deuce is determined to do it perfectly. Yuu, meanwhile, is just… being herself.

Deuce carefully carries the tray of teacups with a level of focus that could shatter steel. Yuu is already seated, setting the napkins, folding it into swans and put it neatly inside the clean plate.

He watches her for a moment. The way she sits with her back straight but relaxed. The effortless way she aligns the teaspoons and the plate. Deuce stay silent until they decide to had a little break in the middle of their planning.

Yuu had drinking some tea. She even gently taps the rim of the teacup with the lid like a signal from some tea ritual passed down through royal bloodlines.

Deuce whispers under his breath, “So Elegant…”

Yuu looks up. “Hm?”

“N-Nothing! Just saying you’re really good at this.” He clears his throat. “Like, you move like… someone who’s been to a lot of important… things.”

Yuu smiles softly. “Afternoon teas, mostly. I had to attend them every other week growing up. It was… expected.”

“Expected by who? Your family?”

She tilts her head. “Something like that.”

Deuce nods, suddenly tense. If she’s this composed, I’ve gotta match that energy or I’ll embarrass myself. He sits down beside her and forces his back straight like a broomstick, folding his hands awkwardly in his lap.

Yuu gently picks up a scone with silver tongs.

Deuce tries to copy her. But he grabs the scone with his bare hand, then freezes halfway. “OH—wait, sorry, was I supposed to use… um, those?”

Yuu politely hands him the tongs. “Here.”

He takes them… upside down.

She doesn’t comment.

They sip tea. Or rather, Yuu sips. Deuce tries to imitate her exact grip on the teacup and ends up sticking his pinky out way too far. It looks like he’s trying to cast a spell with it.

Yuu notices and chuckle. “You don’t have to force the pinky. Just keep your fingers relaxed.”

“Oh. Right! Haha. Totally knew that.”

(He didn’t.)

Then comes the cake.

Yuu picks up her fork and cuts a neat bite-size piece, pressing gently so the cake holds its shape.

Deuce slams the fork down, and the cake explodes into crumbs. “...Darn it.”

Yuu raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say a word.

“I swear I didn’t mean to murder it,” he mutters, trying to regroup the cake into something vaguely edible.

She hands him a second plate. “Here. Try again. This time… less muscle, more finesse.”

Deuce accepts it like it’s a sacred test.

“Were you trained by nobility or something?” he blurts in the middle of picking up the cake

Yuu laughs softly. “No. But let’s just say… my family was very particular. You either adapt or get banned from the table.”

Deuce gapes. “Banned??”

She nods with a teasing smile. “For a week.”

“…That’s terrifying.”

[yonakaruz]

HAUNTED | MDNI 18+

chapter 1: yandere! gwi-ma x therapist! fem! reader

summary: you’re a therapist, and thats as simple as it gets. though, it does make it difficult for a certain someone to get your soul. luckily for you, he accepts the challenge.

warnings: MDNI/18+, language, sensitive psychological topics mentioned (ex: trauma, parents, suicide), subtle hints of daddy kink

You always found the good in everyone.

You can’t say you’re never pessimistic, but you do avoid it like the plague. In every patient you get, there’s a part of you that wants them to get better and see how beautiful they are.

To not feel shame, but to simply heal. And it’s what you love about your life, pledging yourself to never stray from that path.

Until they came.

You weren’t dumb, and nor were you gullible. The sky is a misty grey, the cold kissing your shaky lips as you stare at the knocked down billboard. Another missing person photo wiggles from its pin, practically waving you forward to look deeply.

And you knew them.

It was little Sarah. 16, brown hair, green eyes, had issues with her left eye due to trauma. She was struggling through her parents divorce and her only safe haven was talking about the new band in town— the Saja Boys. And she wasn’t the only one.

For the past year, every single patient who gushed about their newest obsession went missing days letter. Business got slow as people found music to be their emotional outlet, and you didn’t mind at first.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said listening to Huntrix made you cry. You absolutely adored them, from a fan and psychological standpoint. Three strong women who make songs about them, their life, and pursue their goals through confidence. The Saja Boys? They’re nothing but men who use their bodies, and young ones? They’re not really your type.

The city is bustling with people; cars zoom and people stroll around dressed cozily for the winter. You let out a breath, a sigh actually, and watch longingly as it turned to a puff of white. Maybe, things will get better soon.

“Miss!”

You turn around, hearing a childish voice. There, a small toothy grin smiles at you as they hold up a golden keychain. “You dwopped this!” he grins, staring up at you with sparkling eyes as they held their mother’s hand, “Is it fum Huntrix?”

Your heart heals instantly as you squat to their level, “Yes, yes it is.” It glistens, reminding you of the concert you attended to buy it.

You reach out to grab it, but you immediately draw back, “Why don’t you keep it? It’s a replica of Rumi’s chain, y’know.”

The kid stares at you in awe, looking up at the mother who’s as surprised as him, “Thank you miss!”

“Oh, are you sure?” the mother asks, her gloved hand clasping her mouth, “I know those aren’t cheap—“

“Please,” you insist as you stand, smiling softly at the giggling child, “Take care of it for me, will you?”

The mother looks at you with sorrow, and you asses her easily. Stressed, trying her best, and…grateful. Afterall, who are you to steal candy from a child?

You watch them chatter softly to each other, the kid skipping on the snow as he waves the keychain around, blabbering about where he’s going to hang it on. Yeah…on his hat sounds nice.

You take one final glance at the missing poster, and then you walk away. There were some things that weren’t in your control, and you weren’t going to beat yourself up about it.

Three hours later, you were sitting on a chair. Your leather-backed notebook sat nicely on your lap, along with the pen you fidgeted. It was past 2 o’clock, and your patient was awfully late.

Your office reflected your inner child, but with a taste of modern solemnity. The walls were painted a dull rainbow, and she was definitely long overdue for a retouch. You had pictures of your clients hanging from the walls; pictures of them with awards from the successes, their family (which became yours as well due to how comfortable they are talking with you) and with your awards too.

Graduated from a local college, a bachelor in humanities and a doctoral in psychology. A photo of you smiling stared back at you.

The rest of your office was well furnished. You had your desk organized in the corner of the room; a wooden desk, metal cabinets, the “relax corner”, and the other chair in front of you. It was a deep red color, given by the previous owner of the establishment and held many memories.

Sobs, laughter, anger— it had it all. Your chair was a simple grey foldable, and although uncomfortable, it made you at least feel a bit of pain that would never be the same as your patients. You sighed, glancing at the time again and noticing a minute barely passed.

You looked at your client’s file again, reading;

Micheal Der’osher , 23 Depression, bipolar & facing suicidal thoughts Doctors Note: just don’t let him die

You frowned at the note. You never loved the way doctors easily disregarded the health of patients. You can’t always stop them, you’re only here to help them— whether it be to listen or to offer solutions. Moreover, lives can easily be dismissed by a single scribble. Just sign under the “stable” line, and you’d never have to see them again.

But you’d never do it. Not until you’re confident that they feel better and know themselves they are.

A knock is heard at your door, and you perk up, maybe it’s him right now? You set aside your papers, standing as you dust off your black skirt. Heels clack on the wooden floor when you open the door, and just as you’d expected, it was him.

“Oh, Micheal?” you began, eyeing him, “I thought you wouldn’t—“

He interrupted you, his face too joyful as he held tickets between his fingers. You notice his nails, bitten to the point where scabs have formed at his cuticles.

“I just wanted to stop by Miss!” Micheal shoved a crumpled ticket up to your face, “I won tickets to see the Saja Boys this weekend! A-and I thought you’d want to go too, so I want to give you my second ticket!”

You placed your hand over your heart, pouting at the heartfelt consideration, “Aw, thank you Micheal, but are you sure you don’t want to keep it? You won them fair and square, don’t you think?”

You didn’t even bother bringing up his appointment, or the fact that you didn’t even like the Saja Boys. It was moments like these where you really had to put yourself in your patients shoes, and match their mood.

He shook his head eagerly, “No! I want you to have them!”

Slowly, you take out your palm as he slaps the ticket right on it. The ticket was purple, but because it was crumpled, you couldn’t make out any of the words just yet.

“Well, I appreciate it a lot. Thank you,” you tilt your head, grinning, “Did you want to go together?”

“Nope!” He was already making his way down the steps of your office, dancing on the road as he shouted at you, “You’re amazing, Dr. l/n!”

You stood at the entrance, your head peeking out as you watched him safely get back on the sidewalk and dance some more. A light chuckle leaves your lips as you lean on the door frame. Your manicured fingers unfurl the small ticket, and you read it:

Saja Boys - Admission Ticket #671 Ticket valid for 1 entry

There was no other detail written on the ticket, no matter how much you turned it around. Even Huntrix show tickets were more detailed and pretty than this.

You walked back inside, staring at the ticket as you closed the door. You had no other appointment pending, so you began to pack up. Today was Friday, was it not? You frowned, glancing at your written calendar behind your desk.

You had no appointments this weekend either, an eerie coincidence. That is, not until next week on Wednesday at 10:00 am. An abrupt ring made you jump, snapping you out of a daze. Your red telephone rang, and you pick it up, saying;

“Hello? This is Dr. y/n l/n, how may I help you?”

“Oh! y/n!” says the familiar voice, his voice clearing as he talked, “You busy?”

“Yes.” you say, monotonously as your finger hovers over the end call button.

It was your annoying ex again. The very one who cheated on you during your 3rd anniversary, and you were very fortunate to not have fucked him before. He probably called to ask you for a date again.

“Um,” David hums, and you hear his fingers tapping a surface impatiently, “I just wanted to know if you want to go out Saturday night? Anywhere you want babe—“

“I’m not your babe.”

And you hung up, blocking his new number, again. You glance at the ticket, and you’re not a lair when you say to yourself,

“And I am busy Saturday night. I have a boring concert to attend.”

Next thing you know, you’re the most suspicious person. You wear a long black trench coat with your bare legs and heels peeking from under. Because who else wears trench coats to concerts?

Your hand is stuffed deep into your pockets, clutching the ticket as you stare ahead. People are bustling around, screaming excitedly and flaunting hand-made signs for the band. The stars in the sky twinkle with joy, dancing about as big colored lights cross each other in a mingle.

A part of yourself wants to leave immediately, and another wants to peek inside, to have a taste of what you despised.

And maybe to find your patients, who were probably in the crowd. With resignation, you puff up your chest and make your away down the uneven path.

But they could be dead, and it will be your fault.

You stop yourself from taking another step forward. The noises around you come to a drowning stop as you stare ahead, your skin growing into goosebumps as the voice talks to you. You do not deserve to have them. They hate you. They want you gone.

Your head feels heavy as you turn around, your movements sluggish. Was this you talking to yourself? Your tongue brushes against your top lip, hydrating it as you whisper to yourself;

“No, I love them,” you take another dreading step forward, “They’re my family.”

Shoulders bump into yours in a rush, and you glance up, seeing the screen meters ahead turn on. The show had already started and you weren’t even inside yet. It took every ounce of your being to walk.

Stay away. Don’t come. They do not want to see you, y/n.

You ignored the voice, your heels practically digging against the concrete when you show your ticket to the Ticketmaster. He glances at you with a raised brow as he hands you a bracelet, but doesn’t say a word.

Trickles of sweat slide down your face as you shakily walk ahead. The hallways are empty now and the voice talking to you has grown quiet. You lean against one of the walls, your body against the Saja Boys poster as you slowly sink down to the floor. The bracelet falls from your hands, but you paid no mind to it.

It feels like you just ran a marathon without water, so you couldn’t even force yourself to watch the concert. You only listened, your eyes closed as you took shallow breaths.

At a distance, a man lurked. His fingers twirled a silver coin between his knuckles, voice muttering as he catches it in his palm.

Never, and he means never, has this happened before. It intrigued him. Made him grin and his fangs flash with hunger.

You were nearly fainted in the hallway. His minions were creeping up to your figure, their mouths opening in a horrid manner, to engulf your soul.

But that was much too soon for him.

He waved his hand, a motion enough to let them scamper away. What was a woman like you doing, disobeying?

You felt like someone was watching you, so you opened an eye. At first, you swear you see purple flames licking the walls, but when you blink again, you see a man. If it is one that is, because your nausea seems to be playing tricks on you.

He seems to be wearing heels as well. His boots make heavy thumps against the concrete, and his coat makes a fluttering show of his figure. You swallow thickly, your heart beating fast as the man of your dreams stops right at your feet.

His purple hair is slicked back, the tips of his hair licked a deep pink. The man looks at you with violet glowing eyes, beautiful lashes blinking down on you as he leans. You felt like butter, and you pulled your knees closer to your body.

“Well,” he says, pushing back his black coat for you to see his velvet suit when he squats, “What do we have here?”

And he has a sexy voice. You felt embarrassed as you tried to stand, but your own feet give up on you as you land right back on your ass.

“I-I” you began, trying to look anywhere but him, “I think I-I fell.”

His chuckle rattles your bones, and you see a leather-gloved hand reach out to you as he grins. Aged dimples pull at his cheeks, making him look like a glorious angel.

“Here, my name is Gwi-ma,” he watches you take his hand, your figure trembling pleasurably, “What is yours?”

Every nerve in your body screams at you to stay quiet, but you reply with a sheepish smile.

“y/n. y/n l/n.”

work and rights belong to me, laurel.