Hiii, I just wanted to say I love your writing so much, like omgg the MLSP series is so good! Writers block sucks so bad so please take your time writing and take care of yourself <33
-🍡
Thank you so much, I love you 😭💖
I genuinely love writing the series and I hope that everyone enjoys it too~
Summary: Your interaction with Abs at the bathhouse leaves you with mixed emotions running through your system. A particular girl group run-in has going to the mini-award show, but not for Saja Boys. So what does our favorite muscled demon think?
Content Warning: Language, Horniness But No Sex Yet, Anxious Thoughts, Yandere Vibes, Red Flag Energy
Check Out Part 1 and Part 2
This was more of a filler chapter, I won't lie. There was a lot I wanted to do but it didn't feel right trying to cram it into one chapter so I decided to break it up.
Writer's block is a bitch, so I am sorry if it's not as good as the other chapters, but I hope you all enjoy Part 3 of MLSP.
Enjoy!
-
“What the fuck?” You mumbled to yourself, staring at the now empty hallway.
You still felt rather dazed and horny, unsure where your head was at after that interaction – what was happening? How was this real life?
But regardless of your existential crisis, you still felt confused because how did the Abs Saja know your name? Did you accidentally give it to him at some point? You tried to sort through the memory of the entire conversation, but it felt so muddled and frankly unreal.
“I will see you again soon, Y/N…”
The way he said your name, his baritone voice low and lips twisted up in a smirk, it was enough that you needed that cold shower now. His voice echoed, as if he was still standing behind you, whispering it in your ear.
Your body felt hot as if you were sitting in the sauna once more, the flush settling deep in your skin. Your chest heaved as the breath you caught escaped just as quickly. You tried to fan yourself with your hand, but nothing seemed to help. It was like a spell was cast, your vision swimming as a dizzy heat crept along your soul. There was only one way to quench it…
“Miss, are you okay?” You jumped at the sudden sound of one of the staff approaching you. “Oh! I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you. We saw you standing here for a bit and wanted to ensure you were okay.” The attendant genuinely looked concerned at your state, unaware that the reason for it ran out the front door in a flash of pink.
You cleared your throat, mouth clammy from thirst. “No, no I am okay. I apologize, I was hot in the sauna and came to get some tea, but I dropped it.” You looked down behind you, seeing the puddle and your coin purse next to it and thankfully not drenched in it. You crouched down to pick up the little red purse only to have a revelation.
Oh my god, you’re a dumbass. Your name is stitched into the purse.
The bright yellow stitching of your name stark against the red fabric on the purse. It was a gift from your grandma when you were little. “Red brings wealth into the wallet and, with this, to you” she claimed when she gifted the little purse to you with fifty-thousand won. You have had the old fabric wallet for so long you honestly forget your name was on there.
Abby must have seen the little purse. That’s how he knew your name.
The attendant interrupted your thoughts once more, “Oh not to worry! We will clean that up. Please, go continue to enjoy the amenities when you feel well enough. Let us know if you need anything.”
After ensuring multiple times she did not want your assistance in cleaning the mess up, you shuffled back into the locker room to rinse off.
Your skin remained feverish, the surface pink and warm to the touch. You slipped on your shower shoes and threw yourself into a shower stall, barely removing your robe before turning on the shower to its iciest setting.
Abby. He was all you could think about. You could still hear his deep voice as he teased you. The way he smiled at you like he was a predator cornering his prey, plush lips flashing behind your closed eyes. You could still feel the warmth of his hands against your skin as he held you to his chest, his cologne sticking to your skin. The way his muscular arms flexed around your frame as he held you tightly.
You leaned back against the icy tile of the shower, trying to regulate your breathing and calm the raging want your system seemed to be experiencing. This was too much in one damn day and you REFUSED to masturbate in a public bathhouse. Hell no!
You stood under the freezing water for what felt like hours before your body began to cool and your mind finally calmed.
Only once the flush in your skin finally disappeared and your teeth started to chatter did you decide to step out. You quickly dried yourself off and dressed, throwing your wet hair up into a bun and hiding it under your hoodie. You grimaced when you glanced at the time at your phone. It was pretty late, and Missus was probably angrily awaiting food at this point.
By the time you returned your key and stepped outside, the sun had set and the moon filled the sky.
You didn’t mean to spend so much time in the bathhouse, but it felt amazing so no regrets. With a newfound sense of peace, you began to walk towards the bus stop on the other side of the bathhouse. There were only a few buses running this late so it would be a few minutes before it would arrive.
As you walked towards the bus stop, you found yourself humming Soda Pop once more. It was too damn catchy.
However, just as you started you stopped, the hair on the back of your neck standing up as an icy shadow climbed along your spine. Perhaps it was the chill of the night air, but your paranoia spoke otherwise.
You’re being watched.
You froze momentarily, listening to the eerie silence that seemed to ensnare the street. There was an unsettling heaviness on you, heart pounding at the sensation of eyes staring. No one appeared to be around as you glanced around, but the way your anxiety was suddenly rising convinced you that someone was indeed watching you.
You just couldn't see them.
You finally begin to move again, pace picking up as you felt someone or something trailing after you. You rounded the corner of the building, borderline jogging as you did, and stared down at the bus stop at the end of the street. It was empty, the orange streetlight casting a warm glow on the little covered station.
Only a few more yards and you’d be safe, right?
Before you could make it much further, the door of the men’s bath house swung open, a black mass rushed out and rammed straight into you.
You felt your poor heart stop for a second, a scream leaving your lips at the sudden flurry of action. You lost your balance as you skittered backwards, falling off the curb and landing on your side, your shoulder connecting with the ground harshly.
“Oh my gosh, I- we are so sorry!”
“Are you okay?!”
“Help her up!”
As you caught your breath for the hundredth time tonight, you felt gentle hands lightly touch your arm, a small voice asking, “Hey, are you okay?”
Despite your heart still racing, you felt a flash of anger. Of course you weren’t okay!
You snapped your head to look up at the offender, only to feel your retort dissolve as you were rendered speechless once more today.
Because why was Zoey from HUNTR/X here? In fact – why was all of HUNTR/X here?
What ultimate karma did you have that two idol groups would literally connect with you in one night? Were you living some type of fanfiction on Tumblr? This cannot be real.
You sat up, hissing as pain throbbed throughout your shoulder from the fall. “Oh gosh, careful! Take it slow,” Zoey warned, keeping a hand on your back.
“That was quite the fall, you okay?” Mira asked, long pink hair swaying with the breeze as she looked down at you with a concerned glare.
“Oh, um, yeah…” you trailed off, completely gobsmacked, and without much thought just blurted out, “You’re HUNTR/X.”
The concern was still written on the three girls’ faces as they stared at you, but they couldn’t help but smile at you. “Uh yes, yes we are. And we are so sorry!” Rumi, the leader, apologized once again, a blush of shame set on her tan skin. She was wearing much heavier makeup than you had seen her in before, but she sincerely rocked the heavy black eyeliner.
Holy shit, they’re even prettier in real life.
You scrambled to stand up from the rocky street, face beat red from embarrassment as you swiped rubble from your hoodie, bowing slightly as Zoey handed you your tote that scattered when you fell. “No, it’s totally fine. It was an accident; you were just leaving theeeeee men’s bathhouse?” You questioned, eyeing the opaque door they had come barreling through.
All three girls turned just as red as you, looking every which way but at your face.
“Oh, yeah, no-“
“Complete accident.”
“Men’s! Wrong one!”
The three girls fumbled over their words, each one attempting to cover their own ass as to why they were in the men’s bathhouse. Rumi finally took over, explaining, “We just finished the game show and came over here for a soak, but we got the wrong one it seems.”
“Oh,” you nodded your head in understanding. “Makes sense, the women’s is on the other side, but I guess that wasn’t labeled too well.” In the girl’s defense, nowhere on the large lit-up sign did it specify MEN’S bathhouse, that was only in small font on the door.
The four of you stood awkwardly for a second before your soul couldn’t take it any longer and you started to gush, “Okay, I am sorry, but I am a huge fan and I just- these outfits? Super badass! The leather and black makeup with the beat up look? So freaking cool!”
The girls instantly started cooing alongside you, thanking you for your kind words.
“I also love Golden, it really helped pull me out of a really dark time in my life and I just really love you guys,” you felt tears well up in your eyes as your heart swelled with emotion.
The girls also looked teary-eyed at your confession, Zoey and Rumi sniffling together as Mira covered her mouth. “We love you too!” They cried out. You always knew they loved their fans, but this was proving to you that they genuinely cared for their fans too.
“If it isn’t too much trouble, can I get a photo with you, please?”
“Oh my gosh- yes!” Zoey cheered, instantly snatching your phone to help take a selfie. “Alrighty, everyone squeeze in together and sayyyy Golden!”
You squished between Mira and Rumi, Zoey standing in front of you and raising the phone so you all could fit in on the screen. The girls put up a variety of finger hearts and peace signs, big smiles on their faces as they cheered their new single. Your cheeks hurt with how big you smiled, a sincere smile at that. You felt golden in that moment.
Of course, your bus would be arriving now to cut the moment short.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You gushed once more, smile ear to ear now as you stared at the selfie. “I should get going, my bus is here but thank you again. This means so much to me!”
“You’re so welcome!” They chorused.
Rumi spoke up, “And if you want, please come support us at some of the award shows!”
“Oh! And don’t forget about our signing event next weekend too!” Zoey shouted happily.
“Yeah,” Mira smiled, “We would love to have you there.”
You gave them two thumbs up, “I will be there! Thank you!”
With a wave you ran off, barely catching the bus much to the chagrin of the grumpy looking driver. You couldn’t be bothered though because holy shit you just meant the HUNTR/X! You got a selfie and a personal invitation to the award shows?! Freaking unbelievable!
As you sat on the small bus, riding home, you changed your lockscreen to the selfie you had taken together, once again beaming at the image.
Blissfully unaware, once more, of the rageful shadow watching you from the roof as the bus drove you away. Stormy golden eyes glared at the vehicle, hissing a hateful snarl as he felt a little bit of his control slip from your mind from your interaction with the hunters.
“Those fucking bitches.”
-
It was finally Friday, the work week was finished, and you could not wait for tonight.
After your meeting with HUNTR/X outside the bathhouse, you immediately went online to see if there were tickets available for the mini-award shows. You managed to snag a ticket to the show tonight and you were beyond excited.
Several other idol groups would perform tonight, such as TWICE, KARD, and rumors of STRAY KIDS. But you were there to support HUNTR/X, ready to cheer your girls on.
Although you felt guilty about admitting it, you were there for Saja Boys too. They had quickly become a nationwide sensation with Soda Pop. They trended on social media, fans making TikTok dance trends to them, creating merch and make-up looks. The fans were making edits of the boys, clips of Baby winning the hot sauce challenge on Play Games With Us being popular. His nonchalant win and “Goo-goo-ga-ga” sent everyone into a feral frenzy.
You also may have zoomed in on a certain someone’s abs one too many times during the show but who was watching?
“Heels, nails, blade, mascara,” you sang along to your playlist as you got yourself ready, voguing a bit to the chorus. “Fit check for my napalm area. Need to beat my face, make it cute and savage. Mirror mirror on my phone, who’s the baddest? Us, hello?”
And you felt badass.
You were wearing a black crop top with the HUNTR/X logo shining in purple and gold letters, little glittering stars surrounding the words. You decided to go with high-waisted black shorts paired with fishnet stockings underneath.
You went with a more golden look for your makeup, donning a smokey eyeshadow with glittery gold inside. Your eyeliner was sharp, eyelashes long and dark from mascara, highlighter shimmering on your blushed cheeks and nose. All you needed was some lip gloss and your look would be complete.
A sudden clatter came from the other side of the bathroom door. You paused your rummaging for the lip product, listening for any further disturbance. It was otherwise silent from the music coming from your mini-speaker on the counter.
“Missus?” You called out as you opened the door to look into your room. “Are you getting into something you’re not supposed to?”
The furry culprit was nowhere to be seen in the room, but the crime scene was evident.
There, lying in the middle of the floor, was your Saja Boys light stick, too far from the shelf it had been sitting on. Missus must have been climbing on the shelves again and knocked it over, fleeing the scene after her crime was committed.
You walked over and picked it up, inspecting it for any cracks or damage. Nothing appeared broken, but you felt the lion’s eye taunting you, almost asking:
Shouldn’t you support us, Saja Boys?
As if your playlist heard it, Soda Pop started blaring from your speaker – seemingly louder than before. Weird, because you don’t remember adding the song to this playlist.
You settled the light stick into its stand on the shelf before walking back into the bathroom to look at your phone. Sure enough, the playlist was closed out and the boy’s single was playing on its own. Strange.
You did not dwell on it long. The clock on your phone showed it was already half past six and you needed to get to the venue ASAP. You swiped on the gloss and rushed out of the bathroom, grabbing your purse and HUNTR/X light stick.
“Be good, Missus,” you warned the lazy cat as you struggled to put on your boots. “No more climbing on shelves. You could break something or even hurt yourself.” She simply flipped onto her back in the hammock, ignoring your scoldings.
Afterall, she didn’t do anything.
Boots on, door locked, you were running to the bus stop.
-
All the groups had finished performing, HUNTR/X second to last with How It’s Done as Rumi’s voice still was not fully healed, and they didn’t want her to harm it further. It was still an amazing performance, but you were a little saddened not to see Golden live still. However, you still cheered from your spot in the back, waving your lit-up wand and screaming for the girls.
Then came Saja Boys.
Truthfully, they stole the stage with Soda Pop. This was their second performance of it live and it was even more spectacular than the first. The flash of abs, body rolling, the kisses at the crowd – their stage presence was dominating and everyone swooned over them. Yourself included.
It was time for the awards now, the groups of idols on stage shifting nervously as this dictated who would go to the next round and ultimately to the Idol Award Show of the year.
It was neck and neck, the only unnamed victors being Saja Boys and HUNTR/X, but only one could place first.
Both groups stood on opposite sides of the stages, looking calm and waving at the crowd as they waited for the dramatic announcement.
“And this week’s winner is…” the announcer drawled, “Soda Pop by the Saja Boys!”
The crowd erupted into cheers, flowers thrown on stage at the boy band as they bowed and smiled. They waved and blew kisses as the host had them move center stage, a mic stand appearing so they could give a mini speech to their fans.
“Thank you to everyone who has streamed Soda Pop,” Jinu said, holding a large bouquet of roses and smiling at the crowd, “We love you all so much and could not be here if it wasn’t for you, our fans.”
Your eyes wandered from the leader and surveyed the other members, appreciating their appearances when you felt your blood freeze as you made eye contact with one member in particular.
There was no way he could see you, right? You were all the way in the back for heaven’s sake.
Maybe it was your delusional hope, but Abby’s eyes were seemingly locked on you. He waved to the crowd and smiled, but his eyes never once left yours and it made your heart race with anxious glee. A blush settled on your cheeks under his power gaze. Your weak knees nearly giving out as he darted his tongue out, wetting his lips…
“And please, join our fan club, join the Pride,” Jinu was finishing his speech and finally, your and Abby’s staring contes broke as he looked away towards the crowd. “We need you, our fans. And never forget, Saja Boys love you.”
Soda Pop began to play as confetti showered down on the crowd, the boys bowing while hoots and hollers filled the venue. The idols began to file off stage, bowing and waving at their fans as they went. After the stage emptied, the crowd quickly disbanded, and people began to shuffle out. You chose to sit there and wait, no point in fighting to walk out of the venue only to run to the bus stop and try to squeeze into an overly crowded bus. It was easier to just sit and wait here for a little bit and scroll on your phone.
The venue hall was empty now, five minutes had passed but you could still hear the crowds outside the room, the hallways echoing with various conversations and cheers, the vendors shouting to buy merch at a discounted price. Meanwhile, you were scrolling through Instagram, chortling to yourself at the memes that filled your page.
“I was hoping you’d be here.”
Your soul nearly left your body as a familiar deep voice whispered in your ear. You knew that voice all too well at this point. Snapping your head to look behind you, you gasped as his face was mere inches from yours, noses practically touching.
Abby.
“Holy shit,” you scrambled to stand up and create some distance from the idol, hand over your pounding heart. “You scared me!”
He chuckled, standing up straight from bending over to whisper in your ear. “Well, you were so deep into your doom scrolling it was easy to sneak up on you – I didn’t even have to try.”
A strong blush dusted your cheeks, embarrassment filling your face. “I wasn’t doom scrolling!” You defended yourself, “I’m just waiting for the crowds to die down so I can go home.”
“Hmmm, I see. A solid plan,” the fuchsia-haired smirked. “I suppose I should be thankful for it. Afterall, it allowed me to come see my traitorous lioness.”
Your brows scrunched together, a frown marring your face as you echoed, “Traitorous?”
He motioned at your outfit, “Well clearly you weren’t here to support me, were you?”
You struggled to make an excuse, how could you? You were wearing a HUNTR/X shirt and holding their light stick around your wrist.
“You look so beautiful, yet none of this was for me,” he gave you a mock pout, an angry mischief glinting in his dark eyes. “Gotta say, I am disappointed in you, Y/N.”
You looked down, tears welling up in your eyes as your emotions became a jumbled mess. Why were you crying over this?
“Because you’re pathetic.”
You had no time to register the whispering voice, Abby’s cologne invading your senses as he suddenly towered over you. “Babygirl,” he cooed, a finger hooking under your chin, bringing your watery gaze up to his. “Oh baby, don’t cry. I’m not mad.”
This was so fucking embarrassing.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled through wobbly lips, shame building in your system from this conversation, but also because you disappointed him. “I’ve been a fan for awhile and-“
He shushed you, stopping you from talking any further. “I forgive you,” he nodded, an insincere smile on his lips. “So, let’s not wear this next time, okay? I want you all to myself.”
His fingers fell from your chin, instead falling to the bottom of your crop top. The back of his knuckles grazed your stomach as he tugged at the offending fabric of your shirt. “I said it last time we talked, Y/N,” he looked down at you through his thick lashes. “I want you in my shirt, screaming my name…”
Your breath stuttered as a whole new warmth settled in your system, eyes widening and cheeks blushing at his statement.
You imagination tortured you, images conjuring in your mind - you underneath him, partially wearing his button-up, screaming his name as he fucked you...
He was talking about supporting them, Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter.
“I’ll wear the Saja Boy merch next time, I promise,” you mumbled, your mental state overstimulated by the roller coaster of emotions this man seemed to bring.
“Good girl,” his voice lowered as he praised you, your knees weakening at his statement.
Fuck, you wanted him.
You both stood silently for a moment, him simply studying you while you tried not to have a panic attack when your phone screen lit up with a notification from Snapchat. Abby’s eyes were drawn to your phone, a disapproving ‘tsk’ from him as he saw your lockscreen.
“Let’s change that picture, shall we?” It was less of a question, more of a command that you felt like you had no choice but follow. “Give me your phone, we can take a photo together.”
You shakily opened the camera and handed him the small device, the phone looking even tinier in his large hand. He lifted the phone up, getting you both in the frame for a second before he made a humming noise, “Not good enough.”
His hand was suddenly on your bare waist, dragging you to his side. Your chest lay flat against his side, the HUNTR/X logo hidden from the view of the photo.
“There we go, much better,” he smiled down at your blushing face. “Wrap your arms around me.”
Your head snapped up, shocked at the command. Did you mishear him? “What?”
“I said,” he drawled, lowering his voice more, “Wrap your arms around me, Y/N.”
Your arms snaked around his fit waist, feeling the sturdy muscles as you slid your hands around.
You were going to pass out at this rate.
He smiled at you and looked back at the phone. “Good, now smile for the camera and say ‘Abby’.”
Your cheeks were red, eyes crinkled as you smiled while saying his name. He smiled for the photo, sharp canines on display as he did. Once the photo clicked, you dislodged from him, giving the idol space and truthfully trying to regulate yourself. This was beyond overwhelming and you couldn't tell if you needed to run away, beg for death, or beg to be fucked.
“And there we go,” he sang you out of your internal turmoil. He was finishing setting the photo as your new lockscreen before handing the phone back to you. “Now you’ll always know who you belong to, Saja Boys.” He said with a wink.
You nodded your head dumbly, not a single thought forming there.
He smirked once more at you before turning his head to the doors. “Sounds like things have cleared out, you should start heading home before it gets much later.”
Right, heading home. It was getting late, and the buses would be a bit emptier now.
“Um, yeah, thank you,” you mumbled, unable to speak properly it seems. “I will head out now, thank you again for taking a photo with me.” You bowed before brushing past him, nerves on high alert.
“You’re welcome. Oh, and Y/N…” You stopped to look at him, his hands in his jean pockets and body language relaxed. His dark eyes met yours while he teased, “Get home safe. We don’t want any other demons to get you, right?”
Your head nodded on autopilot, “Will do, thank you, Abby.”
He smirked, “My pleasure, babygirl. See you soon!”
You scurried out the door, no longer looking back to see how his smile dropped and his eyes glow golden. A small snarl formed on his lips right before he vanished, only wisps of pink left behind.
You ran through the empty halls, boots squeaking loudly. You burst through the doors outside, the air crisp and chilling on your skin. You hurried down the stairs and around the corner and down to the bus station where a bus had just pulled up. Just in time.
Aftwe swiping your T-card, you walked to a seat at the back of the bus, flopping down onto the uncomfortable chair. You felt exhausted now.
There were only a few people on the bus with you, but you couldn’t pay them any attention. You just stared down at your phone lockscreen, admiring the new photo with utter disbelief and want.
i just have a very soft spot for writers feeding me abby fics (frothing at the mouth at the moment) i can't wait for the next chapters! your “My Little Sodapop” is written amazingly!
My first Ask 🤧💖💖 You will hold a special place in my heart
Summary: You were meant to be a fan, someone who supported from the sidelines and cheered them on. You were a nobody, nothing special. So why were you being targeted by a demon lord?
Content Warning: Lowkey Horror, Fluff, Bad Language Words, Smut
Happy Birthday to the Queen @kinsuim ! Here is a little gift to you and world, smut with a tinge of horror and fluff. All with our Saja King - Abs.
Enjoy!
The delicate silence of the night was broken by your confession. You and Abby, a demon you'd grown to care for sat upon Namsan tower - not inside, but rather on top of it with your backs against the metal. It was quite the fall down were you to somehow slip, but he would always catch you.
-
"I love you."
He always was there for you when you fell.
-
It was cliché, the way you popped into his life and you into his. You were a fan of Saja Boys (Baby was your bias much to Abs’ chagrin) and met them at a fan meet. He thought you were adorable, all red in the face and stuttering. You were a hot mess, trying so hard to keep it cool in front of such attractive male specimens. He had given you a shaded drawing of his abs, signed with a heart. You damn near fainted. It was all around the perfect meet up.
Until you got attacked in the hallway by a lower-class demon.
You were wandering around a strangely empty hall one of the awkward staff members pointed you down. Once the fan meet had ended, the crowd dispersing, you figured you'd go to the bathroom before taking the bus home. After asking the staff where the nearest restroom was, you marched down the hallway they pointed at but there was not a restroom in sight. In fact, there was no one in sight either. It was eerily quiet and strangely dim lighting.
You let out a scream as you felt something sharp cut into your calf and yank it out from underneath you, your front slamming into the tile flooring. Dazed but panicked, you quickly scrambled to look behind you and saw a scraggly blue hand, dark claws digging into your tender flesh which drew blood to the surface. Grabbing onto you was something out a horror movie – gnashing teeth bared into a smile, pale yellow eyes glaring at you, loose clothes you recognized to be from the very staff member you asked help from earlier. The skin of its body was sagging, splotches of blue and pale white skin clashing as its illusion wore off, raised circular patterns rising to the surface. Its limbs were bent at awkward angles, standing like a dog behind you, yet looking humanoid.
You could feel your heart and breathing stop as you stared back at it with insurmountable fear
“Hungryyyy,” it rasped, voice dry and cracked. “So hungry.”
A loud series of screams poured from your throat, locked muscles finally springing into action as you began to kick rapidly at its’ face. The jagged claws scraped your skin as it fell back, inhuman screeches erupting out of it as your foot connected with a sickening crunch to the sagging skin in the middle of its’ face.
You scrambled to get up – but your leg felt numb, making it impossible to stand whatsoever. You quickly resorted to dragging yourself backwards across the floor, movements feeling slow like when you’re in a dream. You could only watch in fear as the demon writhed in pain from your kick.
“Help! Please! Someone help me!” You cried out as loud as you could, but your tongue felt heavy and the words came out more garbled than anything.
The creature released another screech, black blood oozing like sludge from the center of its’ disheveled face. Uneven eyes locked onto you once more, eyes slitted with hatred, before it began scuttling after you on all fours.
Your arms went out from underneath you then, head slamming into the concrete once more as the breath left your body. The tears brimming your eyes began to freely fall, sobs wracking your body. You couldn’t move.
Laughing.
The creature was laughing as it crawled over you, slowly and with purpose. The joints in its’ neck cracked as it looked down at you, enjoying the way it could taste your fear and hear how your heart pounded in terror. Your tears meant nothing to it.
This was how you die.
It opened up its’ jaw, the maw unnaturally wide and overly full of teeth – both human and canine in nature. A long, sharp tongue fell from its’ throat, drool dripping from it and on to your shirt. There was an unnatural pull in your chest where the spittle landed, almost like your heart was burning through your ribcage in an attempt to escape your body.
You suddenly couldn’t breathe, your vision began to fade, something blue flashing through your eyes as it went towards the creature’s black throat…
Another flash – purple and pink. The pull in your chest suddenly gone, but it felt like you were drowning still. Everything felt muffled, slowed in molasses.
You felt the ground vibrate as crashes rang through the hall, dust and wall coating the air. Through ringing ears, you could hear the screeches of the creature paired with something tearing. A splash of something wet sizzled against your freezing skin, the taste of putrid rot filling your senses. Then there was silence…
Suffocation.
Warm golden eyes.
A clawed hand cradling the back of your head.
Jagged patterns, dark purple and sharp.
Smooth lavender skin, marred with black droplets.
Plump lips parted, sharp canines on display.
“Breathe.”
Air filled your lungs.
Darkness.
-
When you came back to life, you were in an unfamiliar space. The bed was small, sheets clean but somewhat scratchy. The pillow had no cover, not the most comfortable to your pounding head. The room itself looked almost untouched – as if someone had put basic furniture in and never came back.
The world beyond the curtain-less windows was pitch black, no light or moon in sight. How long have you been out?
Shit, the creature!
You quickly sat up, stomach churning and vision swimming at the speed of your movements. Your heart raced as you surveyed your area, looking for the humanoid creature as if it was waiting for you to wake up to finish you off.
Nothing.
You let out the breath you were holding before you descended into a coughing fit, chest painfully constructing as you couldn’t fill your lungs with air again. Tears sprang to your eyes as you clutched the unfamiliar shirt in your hands – everything hurt.
As your watery eyes adjusted to the sudden optical intrusion, you felt your breath catch for a whole new reason.
Your head snapped in the direction of the bedroom door, the only light coming from the gap at the bottom disturbed as something approached.
A series of hushed voices were heard from the other side momentarily before it swung open, the light blinding you momentarily.
Why the fuck were the Saja Boys crowding the doorway?
Were you dead?
Jinu, the leader of the band, stepped inside the room first with a bottle of water in hand. He was cautious, like when someone approaches a wild animal caught in a trap. He was trying to appear placating but all you felt was fear and confusion as he slowly held the water bottle out to you.
“Here,” he said gently. “It’s water.”
You limply took the bottle, letting it fall to your lap without so much as touching it. You didn’t say anything, eyes darting between him and the doorway crowded with the remaining members. There was a certain pink-haired, muscle member who kept catching eye as you surveyed the members.
“I am sure you have questions,” Jinu said kindly, catching your attention again. “And that is perfectly understandable. We will answer them all in time, we just want you to rest up first, so you don’t get any worse.”
Your throat stung as you rasped out, “What happened? Where am I?”
Before the raven-haired vocalist could speak, your bias of the group interjected. “You died.”
“What?!” You yelped, coughs once again wracking your body as your heart raced harder.
“Baby!” Jinu snapped, eyes flaring in anger before softening at your flinching body. “I’m sorry – that’s not – it’s not exactly right, but…” he trailed off, your coughs becoming harsher as your breathing failed.
You were struggling to turn the bottle cap, clammy hands unable to grip the textured top to open it. You nearly threw it out of frustration when tan hands suddenly took it from, easily snapping the cap off before gently putting the bottle to your lips. Your parched lips opened, letting the lukewarm water run down your sore throat and easing the burn in your chest.
“There you go,” a deep voice spoke, “Breathe.”
“Breathe.”
You pulled away from the bottle suddenly, water slightly spilling down your chin and chest as you looked up at the member hand-feeding you. Dark pink hair covered stormy brown eyes, a troubled frown twisting at his chiseled features at your sudden action.
Abby.
“You were there,” you croaked. “You were there when that thing attacked me. Why? What was that thing? What happened?”
The muscled-man looked even more troubled at your question, clenched jaw ticking as you interrogated him. Abby looked at Jinu who gave him a slight nod, letting him know he would take over again.
“You were attacked by a Mimic, a type of demon that wears the skin of others to isolate prey with tricks and trust,” Jinu explained, sitting on a chair next to the bed. “It directed you down that hall because no one was supposed to be there – it was meant to be out of order you could say. It tried to take your soul- “
You cut him off with incredulous laughter. “I am sorry – what? You expect me to believe this shit?”
“How else do you explain it then?” Romance, one of the flirtiest members of the group interjected, suddenly holding a cup of hot tea out to you. His tone wasn’t kind, but not necessarily rude either. “You asked for answers, we are giving them to you whether you truly believe it or not.”
You silently took the steeping cup of tea – the brew looking rather inviting.
“Thank you, Rom,” Jinu turned back to you. “Unfortunately, Y/N, this is the truth I can give you because it what it is – the truth.”
“So,” you whispered, staring at the steam of hot tea, “It tried to steal my soul? What happened? What do you mean I died?” You looked up, looking between Abs and then at Baby. “Did I actually die?”
“Technically yes, but also no,” Jinu looked troubled, choosing his words carefully. “You were paralyzed by the venom, creating a disconnect between your soul and your heart. Your soul was taken from you almost entirely; your very life was being devoured by the Mimic. Your heart stopped. You would have truly been lost if…”
You felt your eyes tearing up once again, your throat closing up with panic at Jinu’s words.
“If Abby hadn’t heard you screaming, the Mimic would have devoured you entirely.”
You looked up at the idol standing still at the end of the bed, arms crossed over his broad chest and brows pinched in a frown.
“How did you stop it without getting hurt too?” You managed to choke out.
Suddenly the room got uncomfortable, moreso than it already was. An icy unease took over the group, each one silently communicating with the other. Before anyone could say anything, Abby broke the awkward tension.
“I am a demon too.”
A flash of pink hair passed your dying vision, warm golden eyes frantically searching your muddled ones. There was panic written on his pattern-marred skin, the dark hues contrasting against his pale undertone. Clawed hands gently held the back of your head and cheek, parting your icy lips and lowering his lips to yours…
Breathing your very soul back into your heart.
“Breathe.”
-
It took weeks for you to become semi-functioning. You stayed at their shared dorm, the small room apparently for décor as none of them slept really. They were more than happy to accommodate you, feeling guilty for your state.
You were plagued with nightmares, frail body always feeling icy until Romance brought you a cup of hot tea. He had grown on you, keeping his flirting to a minimum although it would slip out occasionally. You once had burnt your tongue on the tea and exclaimed it was hot, his immediate response being, “Not as hot as you.”
He was apparently a skilled tea sommelier – his past hidden otherwise. Regardless, you were thankful to the demon.
Demon…
The entire band was composed of demons, but they refused to steal souls anymore. It was a hard transition, but they admitted they feed off the energy of the fans during concerts. That was when you left their concert, you felt euphorically exhausted. This was the only way they could escape the clutches of Hell’s King, Gwi Ma.
If they relied on souls, they would be tethered to him forever. Energy was hard to fill on for demons, the only ones to succeed being Incubus and Succubus. However, a gorgeous boy band with millions of fans gathering together? That energy kept them more than fed.
However, because of their betrayal Gwi Ma sent scouts to kill fans off. Usually, the boys could spot them before any harm occurred, but this time…
It took you a week before you began to ease up around them. It wasn’t because you blamed them, but because you feared their very nature. You were originally convinced they would lull you into a false sense of security before snatching your soul.
Yet they were nothing but chivalrous.
Jinu would answer any questions you had regarding demons. He was the eldest in the group with a library of wisdom but held a youthful nature that made you question his demon hood. Who actually says “tee hee” unironically?
Baby and Mystery would occasionally check in on, Baby doing the talking while Mystery listened. When you asked, Baby just bluntly stated, “He traded his voice for a siren’s song and beauty. His song and features are beyond any of ours, but he can’t really talk.” Heartbreaking, but he seemed content in his position as a vocalist.
All of them visited you throughout the days, all except the one you truly wanted to see.
Abby had kept you at arm’s length for weeks after the initial conversation. Anytime you asked, no one answered why, stating he would come around but promising you had not offended him in any way.
But nonetheless, you hated his avoidance.
After a particularly disturbing nightmare you decided to step out of the room for a bit of fresh air. The sharp visions of claws digging into your chest and your blue life force swallowed before your paralyzed state played in your mind. It was hard to overcome it still.
You padded through the dark living room, the guys all at a late-night rehearsal in the studio downstairs. They were demons but even they need to practice apparently.
You stopped when movement flashed on the balcony, your heart stopped at the startling movement, petrified that something was coming to finish the job while you were alone unprotected. Only it was not some malicious demon standing on the balcony, drooling to capture your soul.
Your heart soothed at the sight of Abby standing on the balcony outside of the living room, shifting on his feet as he looked at the city lights.
Now was your chance.
You quietly walked to the glass door, sliding it open with gentle touch to not startle the demon too much. He didn’t even flinch, clearly knowing you were there.
“You should be resting,” his voiced, trying to avoid a conversation.
You weren’t letting that slide.
“All I do is rest, I am fine,” you fired back quickly before getting to the point. “Why do you keep avoiding me?”
His chocolate eyes met yours, nearly black under the moonlight on the balcony. Before he could say a word, you continued, “I am sorry if I offended you or upset you in any way. I would like to talk to you, or at the very least thank you for saving me.”
He was silent once more, looking out at the city once again. An agonizing moment slid past before you let out a sigh, turning to go back inside. No point in staying out here if he didn’t want to ta-
“Your soul, I tasted it.”
You froze, back turned to him.
“When I killed the Mimic, tore it apart, I had to take your soul so it wouldn’t burn out. If I grabbed it, I would have smothered it, so I did the only thing I could think of…” Your heart raced as you felt him behind you, his breath suddenly ghosting your ear. “It tasted sinful.”
You whipped around to face him, his eyes golden like the night he saved you.
“I haven’t tasted a mortal soul in years,” He explained, voice rugged with hunger. “It took everything in me to not devour it.”
You instinctively touched your lips, remembering the way he gently inhaled your life back into your body.
A frown fell to your brow – Gwi Ma. Jinu explained how he would feed into their shame, causing them to fall deeper into despair and seek refuge in their demon forms. Gwi Ma pretended to give them solace from that shame he brought, as long as they did his bidding.
He looked away, a slight snarl on his lips. “It is hard to taste an old addiction and not want another taste. It is a shame I cannot get out of my head, and I hear him whispering again.”
Your hand hovered over his back, unsure if you should touch. “So don’t listen to him,” you whispered gently.
He scoffed, “It isn’t eas- “
He paused as your hand came in contact with his toned back.
“Don’t listen to him,” you spoke softly once more. “Because you should listen to me.”
He turned to look at you once again, gold eyes fizzling between gold and brown as they met your unwavering ones. He remained silent, giving you the cue to keep talking.
“You tasted my soul, but you gave it back. You overcame that want, your nature, him – and saved my life, saved my soul,” you stated firmly but still gentle. “You aren’t what he says you are, you are strong in so many regards beyond your physical strength. He cannot tell you otherwise, not when I am proof of it.”
By the end of your mini rant, his eyes we brown again, and he suddenly looked exhausted, like a truly broken man.
You were taken aback when tears welled in his eyes as he stared at you, and without hesitation you hugged him. It took a moment, but he wrapped his strong arms around you, muscles squeezing you tightly but in a protective manner.
“Thank you, Abby,” you whispered. “My soul is safe because of you.”
-
You lost your job.
After weeks of no contact, multiple wellness checkups, and notices – they let you go due to failure to comply. It was to be expected; you weren’t necessarily surprised at the termination letter you received in the mail when you returned back to your small apartment, more bitter because how fucked the world was.
Nearly died and then get further punished for it? Kind of fucked up.
Thankfully, the demon boy band was more than happy to provide you with employment. Although Baby would not admit, the entire group enjoyed having you around. It was refreshing to be themselves around someone who knew what they were and did not find it abhorrent. You always spend time with them, explaining humans’ quirks and they explained demon culture to you. You traveled on tour with them, becoming their favorite little human.
And you get paid to be their ‘assistant’?
Win-win.
All the while you and Abby became inseparable.
When the nightmares plagued you, you sought him out. He would appear in a flash of purple, his warmth heating the ice that would cover your soul. He would cuddle you, gently tickling your skin and soothing you with gentle nothings.
When Gwi Ma whispered, you were there to drown out the demon lord’s words. You would hold his hand and draw your own patterns on him with a purple marker. “Your patterns are not a sign of shame; they tell me about how you overcame hell.”
You shared parts of your childhood, him snickering at the embarrassing antics you would perform and then cooing at the photos you showed of your kid self. “You were so cute… what happened?”
He told you about before he became a demon – a farmer’s son with a talented voice. He would sing while he tended to the crops and livestock. At the markets, his strong stature and seductive voice attracted many people to his family’s stall. His family did well with his help for years, until the plague and famine destroyed his village and subsequently the farm.
A drought destroyed the village farms, nothing grew and the livestock perished. A plague followed quickly, destroying the already weakened village. His mother fell ill, hunger and sickness taking her life before they could do anything to save her.
He fell to shame, Gwi Ma promising him a way out if Abby followed him.
And so, he did.
You sobbed when he told you that, wrapping yourself around him to comfort him as well as mourning him. He held you tightly, tears falling alongside yours. It felt relieving to finally tell someone and not feel ashamed.
It felt healing.
-
Tonight was no different from many you shared before. You had awoken suddenly due the nightmares. They happened infrequently now, but when they did happen you still felt shaken to the core.
You would always need Abby.
He came when you called his name, appearing in your room with that signature flash of purple. He held you for a moment, stroking your hair as you cuddled into his strong chest. It was your safe space. You never wanted to leave his arms.
You had fallen in love with him.
You suggested that you two could go look at Seoul from the top of the Namsan tower. It was a spot where you could see the city lights but also the stars in the sky. The glow of the twinkling sets brought an ease into your soul, warming the chill that plagued it.
He warped you up to the top of the tower, the spot precariously dangerous but you trusted him with your life.
You trusted him with your soul.
And here you were, bearing it to him once more.
The delicate silence shattered as your confession rang between you two.
“I love you.”
There was no hesitation, only pure emotion in your voice. Truthfully, you did not mean to blurt it out like that, but it just spilled out suddenly.
His head snapped in your direction, fuchsia hair flowing the breeze to expose his wide eyes. “You what?”
You locked eyes with his, heart stuttering in your chest at the fear of rejection but repeated yourself no less confident.
“I love you, Abby. Every part of you and your soul.”
He stared at you with an unreadable expression, not a hint of an emotion on his face.
You felt your cheeks warm with rejected embarrassment. Perhaps you should have kept your mouth shut, because now you have ruined everything. Before you could try to save the situation – or jump off the tower – he cupped your face with his hand, gentle as always.
His lips descended upon yours.
The kiss was warm, heat exploding inside your soul. It was not the steamiest kiss, but it sparked every neuron in your body, and you feel like you could combust.
When you parted, you were both breathless and the silence was heavy. His lidded eyes were golden, not with hunger but with the very emotion you hoped he would feel too.
“I love you, Y/N.”
You felt tears of relief and love well up in your eyes, laughing as they spilled over and he momentarily panicked thinking he messed up.
You kissed him again, the motion more intense but the emotions conveyed, nonetheless. He held you tightly, fingers tangling into the hair at the base of your neck while the other hand lay on your waist, keeping you steady on the tower edge.
He would always catch you if you fell.
Because he would fall right beside you.
When you parted again, you breathlessly commanded, “Take us home.”
-
You barely warped into your bedroom before the demon descended upon you once again. His lips found yours once more, hand cupping your jaw as he tilted your head up to meet him. He had waited centuries for you, and he refused to wait a second longer.
Gentle kisses began to morph deeper, mouths parting to allow one another further access to exploring the other. Tongues entwined as passion rose further to the surface of your souls, the need to love each other in an expressive manner following closely behind.
You part momentarily to help him practically rip the sweatshirt he wore off, tossing it in the corner somewhere before his lips met yours once more. Your hands wandering his body, lightly scratching his chest and abs, secretly mapping every groove and dipping of the muscles. He growled, literally, at the sensation you brought him. He felt more feral the more he kissed you, drunk on your touch and love.
You loved him.
He broke the kiss once more, this time gently lifting the bottom of your shirt to silently ask if this was okay.
You responded by lifting your arms, prompting him to fully remove the long-sleeve shirt. Gods above and below, you were stunning.
You both quickly met lips once more, the desperation for one another growing by the second. It was apparent you both wanted – no – needed this. You needed this love, and you needed the other to know how deep this love was.
You trailed your hands once more down his front, reaching the hem of his sweatpants. You played with the edge of the band before dipping your hand inside, forcing a gasp from him as you grasped his cock firmly.
Fuck, he was huge.
“Y/N,” he moaned at your mere touch. “Babygirl, please, please let me love you. I need to make love to you, please.”
His begging was not submissive in any means, but a proclamation of his desire and need to show it – who were you to deny him?
You were quickly splayed out on the bed, both of now pants-less – however while you still wore undergarments, he stood before you naked ang glorious. His cock was erect, brushing against his lower abdomen and twitching at your wanton gaze.
How was he going to fit?
Before you could dwell on his girth and length, he was suddenly kneeling on the ground in front of you and your bare lower half. You leaned up on your forearms, giving him an inquisitive look only to be knocked breathless at the way he stared back at you.
His eyes were molten gold.
He held eye contact as he began, raising one of your legs over his muscular shoulder, kissing along the calf and up to your inner thigh. Your chest heaved as he teased his lips along your skin, so close to where you needed him but not quite touching. A teasing touch at most as his tongue poked out to run along the inner skin of your thigh.
He pressed one more kiss against your thigh before suddenly pressing his tongue against your underwear-clad core. The unexpected emotion had a whimpering moan fall free from your lips, eyes partially closing at the motion.
A growl rumbled in his chest at your noises, desperate to have you make more.
He pulled back, your moan of protest short-lived as he pulled your underwear down your legs, clawed fingers leaving light scratches as they went.
Your core was now bare for him, glistening and beckoning him to taste.
Without hesitation he dove in, tongue pressing against your opening to spread you across his palette – an animalistic moan tearing out his throat. Fuck tasting sinful, you tasted divine.
Your hips rose off the bed, bucking into his mouth as he began to eat you out with ferocious starvation. You felt his clawed fingertips dig into the skin of your thighs, not enough to draw blood but enough that the possessive pain registered as pleasure in your muddled mind.
After tasting your flowing juices, his tongue made quick work against your clit, a moan screaming from your throat as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He was quickly driving you to the edge, hurtling toward the precipice of ultimate pleasure as your climax approached.
Your fingers carded through the colorful locks on his head, pressing deeper into his tongue in desperate need. He squeezed tighter, digging the clawed tips deeper into your hips as he sucked on your clit and lapped at you like you were his last meal before dying.
A meal worthy of death.
Your eyes squeezed shut and legs snapped against his head, hot white flooding your vision as you reached that peak of pleasure, gasps and moans tearing from your throat as he worked you through it. He continued to lick only departing when your grip loosened on his hair and legs started to shake from overstimulation.
Your vision returned right as he stood, his long tongue licking you off his lips and chin with adamant desire. He would eat you daily if you let him – or even if you didn’t, he would.
“Please,” you moaned, needing him once more. “Please love me.”
He crawled over your body, sliding you up further on the bed as he did. He brought you into a passionate kiss, tongues battling once more. He released your lips, canines lightly pulling on your bottom lip before fully pulling away.
“I already love you, Y/N. Let me show you.”
He lifted your thigh over his hip as he positioned himself against your entrance, tip teasing the opening. You made eye contact once more, golden eyes reading yours for any hesitation – there was none, only love and reassurance for him, letting him know you wanted this with absolute certainty.
You gently grabbed his face, ensuring he held eye contact with you, as you spoke softly, “Since the day you saved me, my soul has been yours and I give it you willingly.”
His eyes widened once more, the love shining within the golden pools at such a proclamation.
You truly loved him, and he loved you just as truly.
He slid in with gentle motions, your walls stretching as his wide girth began to spear you open. It took several motions of him pushing in before he was fully seated within you – the breath fully knocked out of you both.
He rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed as you simmered in the heat that formed between your bodies. You enjoyed it for what it was in the moment, hands gently exploring one another’s body and lips gently connecting.
After a moment, he pulled away to look at you.
No words were spoken, yet you understood each other perfectly. Your souls were bared to one another, nothing but undying, unconditional love and acceptance.
The tempo was not hurried, neither one of you hurrying to finish. His strokes were strong, yet the pace slow – each thrust jolting a light a moan from you and against his lips. His hands found yours, entwining fingers with yours as he pinned them above your heads, the strength of his movements never ceasing.
This was not just about finding pleasure, it was about the peace and solace you found in one another. This was not just carnal passion but loving each other for the faults and shames each one held. This was love in its rawest form.
“I love you,” whispered countless times. Kisses and light bites exchanged, sweat building, hearts and souls syncing.
With a final kiss, he finished inside you, guttural moans blessing your ears as he did.
It was enough to trigger your second orgasm of the night; your body fully pressed into his as you shook and walls rapidly tightened around him.
You settled into each other’s arms, no urgency to move away and rather basked in the moment. No words were needed as the notion was felt.
summary: you’re heartbroken and angry, but with a little comfort and bad bitch energy— you’re healed. your stalker? well…not him of course, he’s practically fuming.
warnings: MDNI/18+, language, flirting, heartbreak (? then revenge), sexual references, (used @floredaqueen’s art as a description reference) LONG CHAPTER
In fairy tales, there’s always a Prince Charming.
They’re always the ones carrying the beloved princess who’s in woe after the villain hurt her horribly. They’re strong, and so visibly handsome as they give slutty winks to the princess, promising her a safe escape. And probably something else that is way too explicit to be told in fairy tales.
So here you are, with your own Prince Charming who hugs you from behind.
“Oh! That must be so horrible,” he sighs, holding you tight as you try to wiggle free, “We should leave before he founds out, don’t you think?”
You seriously thought Abs was behind you, but it turned out to be the flirty Romance. You mentally thanked yourself for listening to Regina’s drunk rambles about each singer. Yet, it still felt like nothing helped at all. Maybe because you were literally being woman-napped.
The pink-haired somehow made it to carry you away from the horrid scene, and you had two options.
Scream again and possibly alert the more scary man.
Let this man carry you away from danger although it seems awfully wrong.
And weighing your options out, the second one was clearly more favorable. There was a bitter taste in your tongue. Hate and regret fueled your anger as you watched the door be closed with soft creak.
But you still couldn’t believe yourself. It felt like a feverish dream desiring Abs, and a part of you really thought he’d be better. Yet, seeing the door of that room turn smaller and smaller as you were carried away, only proved you wrong. It was almost taunting you for falling in love.
You felt a hand sneakily try to go up your thigh, and you snap;
“Watch it buster!”
Romance only laughs, patting your ass as you try kicking his chest, “Relax Princess, you don’t want the lion knowing that you entered his den, do you?”
You groaned, your hands clinging to his yellow shirt as you were draped over his shoulder. You should probably feel thankful, but you know that right after this, you’re going to file a police report against him. It didn’t matter if Abs was an idol, it didn’t change the fact that he violated your privacy— among other things too that you were too angry to even think about.
“I don’t care anymore…” you mumble, hearing a door click open, “Love is just an illusion.”
“Oh c’mon gorgeous, I’m looking at love right now,” he flirts, setting you down on what you assumed to be his loveseat couch. The new room was a fancily furnished pink and red, with hints of blue littering the walls.
Posters of their tours and his narcissistic self decorated some of the corners, looming over you about their success. Besides the loveseat couch you were on, there was also a makeup desk and a dressing corner that was filled to the brim with colorful clothes. On the chair ahead of you was black clothing, and sitting nicely on the bottom lay a pair of black Nike’s with a studded sole.
What a way to flaunt wealth.
“You can shut the fuck up,” you hiss, crossing your arms and legs, “I want out of here now, and preferably without seeing him.”
Romance made a thinking face, his manicured fingers tapping his plush lips. You took the moment to observe him too. His eyes were narrow and slanted, but he had a hint of pink eyeshadow caressing around them. His figure was lean, but sort of muscular with a clean shave all throughout.
You had to hold back all the heart tingling feelings as your eyes traveled down, seeing his trousers barely cling to his slim waist. His v-line was horribly visible, and probably clean as no happy trail was seen going south. It also seemed that he caught your eyes because he had to bend at the waist to meet your gaze.
“But, I thought you had a ticket for a private visit with one of us?”
You blush, but your brows still furrow angrily, “I don’t want that anymore— but how did you know? Are you stalking me too?”
Your hands itched to reach your purse, the pepper spray begging you to be used. You didn’t have the time to be messing around with boys anymore. You were done with that.
But the man before you pouted, “Oh I wish, the last time I saw you was…weeks ago I believe? I saw you just now, though you looked like you’ve seen a ghost.”
It took everything Romance had not to laugh. Oh, but not at you. At him. He’s seen his obsession with you, and whenever he’d bring up your name, Abs would instantly start cussing him out. And now? He has you in his room way before the other could.
A sneer almost pulled at his face, but he held his composure, “And I just thought, she must be in trouble! And look—“
He motions at you, making you jerk back repulsively. You were so adorable up close, it made him want to squeeze your puffed up cheeks and found out what sound you’d make if he did.
But he wasn’t like that, no, not at all. He was a demon, and he loved to see pain in humans and demons alike. And seeing Abby wanting to tear him apart simply because you were with him, was more than enough for his sadistic heart.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
You bury yourself deeper in the couch, hands already tight on the pepper spray. There was something so awful about how kind he was, especially being someone who’s friends with a fucking stalker. And before he could reply to you, an announcement was heard;
“Idols, 10 minutes before showdown— please make your way backstage before 5, thank you.”
You watched the man snap his fingers, but he still smiled softly at you, “I have to change, so I hope you don’t mind if—“
But you were already standing, your hands in your bag defensively.
“I’m out.” You say, leaning on the door as you point a finger at him threateningly, “Don’t follow me or talk to me.”
“Oh,” he mumbles, frowning sadly, “I mean, if you insist.”
“I do very much fucking insist.”
And you run out. You don’t even look back, because you can’t. Not when the tears slip from your eyes.
I hate me.
You lurked in the crowd, behind Regina. She was drunk and dancing her heart out eagerly with the beating music, and you didn’t want to say anything that’ll ruin her mood. The entire time you were sulking, staring at the floor that was illuminated by the flashing colors. The music just felt like waves of water pushing your ears tighter, making you too lightheaded to even think properly.
You don’t even notice the screams around you getting louder. You felt numb. Disappointed. But who were you to believe in love if all you did was one night stands?
A bunch of hands snap you out of your depressed daze, making you look up to see Romance once more. His hand was stretched out to you as he sang, his eyes staring at you with adoration when your expression quickly turned furious.
“Oh, my love,” he sang, the chorus getting louder, “Take my hand and say you love me.”
Thousands of pairs of eyes look at you, waiting for you to take the hand that stretched out. Your glance shifts away from the pink-haired, and you see the snarl that forms on another’s face.
You watch the muscular man come up to the front of the stage, giving you an innocent smile as he stretches his hand out for you as well. You stare at it with disgust; and you make sure he sees it when you take Romance’s hand. Swiftly lifted up, you kept staring at Abs. Your hands drape around the man’s neck before you, your eyes giving a slutry and vengeful gaze.
You were going to use this man as revenge and relief, you tell yourself, your eyes still watching the way the other pulled his mic away from his lips in utter disbelief. The cheers of the crowd drown your ears as you let Prince Charming dip your body, his lips grazing your neck as he sings the final verse. It felt like it was only you two on the lit stage.
“Give it up for the Saja Boys!”
It made you smile when you lifted your leg to be held by Romance. And it almost made the other stare right at you, his eyes leaving burning marks on your gleaming skin.
“What the fuck did you do.”
He was angry. But that alone was an understatement. Abs was swearing and dripping with loathe as he watched Romance nonchalantly toss his hair to the side.
“What?” He says innocently, giving him a toothy grin, “You look like you just came out of a storm.”
A storm of anger, probably. The curtains had since closed and now every demon was packing and cleaning up. But not Abs, he was fuming.
How dare anyone touch you like that? When he made it obvious that you were his and his alone? Jinu glanced at their direction, his brows furrowed;
“Hey, calm down you two,” he wiped his sweat with the back of his hand, “We don’t have time to argue, we have to go to the signing posts now.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck,” the demon growled, his skin flashing a mauve color as his claws stretched out, “I’m going to—“
“Woah there buddy,” Prince Charming dodges a blow, “I don’t know why you’re angry, but it kind of suits you.”
“You touched her, so what did you do—“
In an instant, Abs is shoved away. His shoulders meet the pillars of the stage with a rough thud, making him grunt by the sudden action. His chest pulses with pain, but not strong enough to make him completely knock out. There, Romance dusts off his purple knuckles, blowing lightly on them. If he wanted to play rough, then he can too.
The other demons knew not to intervene, especially Jinu as he frowns. He couldn’t do much with two angry demons, and he remembers the conversation he had with the violet one the other day. It made him swallow back a retort, one that would also cost him if others knew.
It was simply one of those inevitable things that happens when you come to the surface. Theirs clearly being on the topic of love, but with the demon who picked himself up…it was clearly something more stronger and eerie than love.
“What did I do?” He laughs, his golden eyes looking pitifully, “How about, what did you do.”
He savored the expression on the demons face, grinning ear to ear, “Your little bitch saw your room, idiot. Wide and open to see your fucking obsession with her, and you know what I did?” Romance covers his mouth, blush settling on his cheeks, “I saved her, took her from you, and you know what it seems like?”
The violet walks to the other, towering over him as he whispers, holding back every urge to tear his jaw out, “What?”
“I think she loves me!”
Jinu only watched, his eyes lazily tracing the demons that grab at each other. Sadistic laughs came from one, and animalistic growls came from another. He was only grateful that the other two weren’t meddled in business like this, or else their plan would’ve fallen to shreds.
Romance was tossed at the feet of the leader, his tongue tasting onyx as he pounced up again, igniting more anger from the other. The raven glanced at the leaving crowd from the corner of the curtain, and he spots you.
You were deep in thought, and it made him worry about what would unravel soon.
Home didn’t feel like home anymore. In the darkness, you corner yourself; your knees were pulled up to your chest as you stared at the crushed cameras below your feet.
Your home was a mess. Furniture and pottery was knocked over, and you didn’t care if your neighbors began to complain. You never answered your phone, and didn’t have the energy to eat. So when the door was nearly knocked off its hinges, you didn’t reply.
“Babe, like what the fuck is wrong with your door…”
Your friend’s voice trailed off as she stared at the scene before her. She shuts the door with an unsatisfying click and you hear her heels clamoring down to you.
“Mama?” she lifts your chin, seeing your puffy eyes and dry lips, “Mama, are you okay?”
“I’m dandy,” you say with a rasp, “Quite dandy.”
There’s a brief moment of silence between you two before she breaks the ice, “How long were you like this?”
You lick your lips, humming softly as you pull out your fingers.
“A week.”
She gasps loudly, scoffing, “You sat like this for a week? Not moving at all?”
You didn’t reply, and you continued to stare at the horrid cameras. All you heard was the jingling of her jewelry as she kneeled before you, taking your hands;
“Babe, how are you not dead? Aren’t you hungry? Need to use the restroom? What happened? A-and what’s all this…?”
She motions at the broken cameras, and it makes you sob. Sob, as you couldn’t figure out exactly what you felt. Sob, as you felt too weak to talk. Sob, as you told the entire scene that unfolded a week ago.
And Regina? Not once did she curse, interrupt you, or let you go. Her embrace was stronger than words and it fueled you to continue.
You yelled, shouted, and threw things uncontrollably. How dare love treat you like this? Like some doll? Is a fairy tale romance too much to ask for? Your breathing was heavy and delicate at the same time, your nails digging into your legs with fury.
“And I want to make him fucking regret it, because I’m not gonna be a sad bitch the entire time, alright? I want him to see that if he had bothered to actually reach out to me and not fucking stalk me, that maybe all this shit wouldn’t even have happened, and—and,” your voice cracks again, “And maybe I could be happy and so fucking happy that I wouldn’t have to be so sad all the time!”
Regina wipes the tears from your eyes, her smile soft as she held your face;
“I’m glad you’re not beating yourself up about—“
“I am!”
She clicks her tongue, booping your nose as she corrects you, “No, because I can see that you’re already thinking of revenge. And you know what babe? You deserve that. You deserve genuine love with someone just as genuine with that.”
You swallow down bitter tears. Sure, you could’ve been in a way worse condition sobbing your eyes out from this heartbreak. But you’re y/n l/n. And the y/n you know would not be as weak as that.
He’s just another man.
Just.
Another.
Stupid.
Man.
Who.
Would’ve.
Taken.
Advantage.
Of.
You.
And a muscular man with a highly good fucking face that you would definitely take a ride on? Fuck him. Because there is sure to be a whole ton of men just like him— but without the crude personality.
Your stomach rumbles with hunger, and you groan. You tried to deny your own hunger, feigning that you’d rather starve yourself to death. But truthfully? Why bother showing him how sensitive you are?
“I literally just came out of a heartbreak,” you murmur, sinking deeper into your corner, “And I don’t want to be fake like him either and use people.”
“Well, what about Romance?”
You scoff, brows furrowed, “Hoe, do you see how I am? I’m a mess, a fucking mess.”
“I know mama, but,” she scoots closer, “What you’re forgetting is that Abs doesn’t know that you found out. Or that you even love him— that’s the advantage you have.”
“What?” you were confused, hearing her as she grinned.
“Look, you found out that he’s obsessed with you, correct?”
“Yeah…?”
“But does he know that you love—well loved— him?”
You think back to the recordings he had of you, and when you observed the cameras, there was no mic in them. That detail definitely made things more easier, because how else would explain that you screamed his name wantingly at night?
“No…?”
“See? That’s perfect, just play him out and use Romance—“
“But that’s mean.”
“Babe,” she says, her jaw dropped as she motions at you, “Look at yourself, are you saying that what they did to you wasn’t mean either?”
You bit your tongue, shaking your head, “But Romance has nothing—“
“BABE.” Regina has nearly had it with you as she shakes your shoulders with vigour, “He just wants a quick fuck and then he’s out— or maybe a subtle kiss— I don’t know! But he’s friends with a stalker, and I’m sure they’re brothers on that.”
“I don’t even look good right now, or have his number if I really wanted too.”
Your friend gives you the ‘I know something you don’t know’ look, and it makes you raise a brow fearfully.
“Regina…”
“Let’s just say…” she grins, biting her lip, “I have my ways.”
Next thing you know, you’re both hushed as you listen to the buzzing ringtone. The name “Romance Saja” passes through the screen like a flag, making you anxious.
Regina had begun to bathe you silently, being very careful with the buckets of water being poured onto your head. The phone sits on the edge of the tub, still ringing.
“I don’t think he’s going to—“
But you’re quickly interrupted when a familiar voice answers:
“Hello? Romance right at your service!”
“O-Oh hello!” you nearly drown in the water as you grab the phone, putting it on speaker, “It’s um, the woman from last week at the—“
“Oh! Princess?”
His voice seems to be laced with sugar now, his laugh coming out more carefree. From the other end, he’s sitting in his room, watching porn from his T.V. A smirk pulls at his painted lips, oh, how he missed you.
You were bound to call him, and he knew. He watches the girl on screen gag on the cock being shoved at her face, her lips being stretched out to fill every crevice of thick flesh. Romance cocks his head to the side, hearing the sounds of water swishing around.
Aw, were you calling him in the middle of your bath?
“Y-yes!” your voice is nervous through the speaker, “And I had a question—“
“You wanna go on a date?” and he seems to be right with the way you immediately grow hushed. His lashes flutter, imagining how precious you must look after hearing his guess.
And it made him more excited too.
His rib burned, and the ice pack he held on it was no use. Looks like the man of muscles can really throw a punch. He hears you clear your throat;
“Yeah, I think I do, but on some conditions.”
“Well, before you say those conditions, can I ask a question too?”
He’s standing from his couch, stretching as he hears you reply yes. It’s been itching on his tongue when he asks;
“What’s your name? I don’t think I ever caught it, princess.”
“y/n.”
Romance pulls the phone away from his lips, whispering your name. The video on the screen has since ended, pausing at the flustered and cum-dripped face of the woman. Your name leaves his grinning lips, tasting phenomenal. Maybe that’s why Abs loves you so much.
“Say,” he brings the phone back up again to his ear, “What will I get out of this?”
“A date with me, duh?” you reply, and he hears the scoff in your voice, “What else did you want?”
He’s already hard when he begins to unbutton his pants, “I don’t know, maybe a treat?”
You laugh, but reply slyly, “Treats are earned, loverboy.”
“Ah,” the demon palms himself as he heads to the bathroom, “Well then, I’m happy to hear those conditions.”
You’re looking at Regina who gapes at you. There was no way it was that easy. So, you sit straight, the water rippling beneath you;
“Well first of all, you must always bring me flowers…”
If you were going to pursue this devious plan of yours, you made sure to get your share. It almost felt…wicked of you as you grinned. Maybe you weren’t too different from the man you hated.
Two days later, you’re waiting outside your apartment building. It was nightfall and crickets were chirping in the background. You clutched your long coat to your nearly bare figure, cursing at yourself for not putting “be punctual” as one of your conditions.
Your toes curled in your small black heels, and the thong you purposefully wore was already giving you friction. The dress was fine of course; it was a simple black tube dress that started below your shoulders and curved down to your round hips.
And it was simply part of the temptation you were trying to evoke.
Soon, you see a fancy white car pulling up, its windows tinted black and reflecting your shivering figure. You frowned, seeing the window roll down slowly.
“Ah! You look so gorgeous!”
Romance was dressed to match, his suit all too classic except for his exaggerated open collar. Inside the car, it was lit pink; making a beautiful impression on the car’s exclusive features. The door opens as you talk;
“But you’re late.”
“You mean we.”
Your head snaps up the moment you sit down, and you see the all too familiar violet hair. Abs is leaned against the very end of the car, his long muscular legs taking up the majority of the space. He grins,
Summary: You decide it is time to get your life back on track, starting with taking care of yourself first. What better way than going back to your favorite bathhouse? What could stress you out there?
Content Warning: Memories of Masturbation, Gwi Ma Being a Dick, Wanting Dick, Perpetual Horniness
Check Out Part 1 Here And Part 3 Here
May I also say, before we get into it - thank you all for the overwhelmingly positive feedback and support. It has been years since I wrote I was genuinely so anxious to post but I am thankful for everyone. Sincerely.
Now please, enjoy Part 2 of our Ab Adventures
-
The bathhouse was steamy, humid mist making it impossible for ladies to see one another - a blessing considering a lot of the older ahjummas were in tonight.
You let out a sigh as you sank further into the hot water. The heat immediately to loosen the knots in your muscles, the herbs in the water soothe and soften your skin. It had been quite awhile since you had visited a bathhouse and tonight just felt right – especially after your little masturbation and panic episode.
“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself, dropping the shirt to the ground and looking around the room sporadically. You even poked your head into the closet and bathroom to check no hunk of a man was just casually hiding in there.
There was no one in the apartment other than you and Missus, you’re middle-aged maine coon who slept unbothered on her window hammock in the living room. There was no idol hiding under your bed or rushing out the door half-dressed. It was just your naked and frazzled self.
So how did you know his name?
Immediately you laughed at the thought and the situation.
“Obviously he isn’t here, like – come on Y/N,” You laughed at yourself. You must have seen the name somewhere at the plaza show on the merch or hell, you could have even used context clues to subconsciously to piece his name together. He wasn’t in your room whispering to you, it was just your little fantasy going wild and helping fill in gaps.
Yeah, that made sense.
You walked back into the bedroom and swiped the shirt off the floor once more, deciding to actually wear it this time. As you assumed, it was a bit baggy but you kind of liked it like that. It was soft material and landed just a little bit under your butt. You admired that it was signed by Abby for a moment, before getting embarrassed again at the situation.
You walked over and collected the light stick off your bed, cringing again at the semi-dry handle. “Shit, better go wipe it off. I can at least keep it as a collectible.”
As you walked to the bathroom, you popped open the battery compartment to remove them only to literally be empty-handed. You quickly flipped it upside--down to see there was indeed no batteries included with it. So how the hell did it glow red during…?
Damn. Your little imaginative illusion was strong.
Strong enough you must have bruised your own neck grabbing at it during your orgasm. You could see in the mirror what looked like two small bruises, barely indents really. You remember thinking he bit your neck, his long canines pressing into your skin, but obviously that didn’t happen so you must have done it with your nails.
That checks out. 100%.
After wiping the light stick handle with a damp rag, you couldn’t help studying yourself deeper in the mirror. It wasn’t wrong or rude to say you let yourself go; you did look a little rough. Past your post-orgasm frazzled hair, it was lifeless from lack of care. Your skin was dull, a few whiteheads popping up and dark spots more apparent from lack of consistent care. The delicate skin under your eyes was dark, telling the world you didn’t sleep. You weren’t eating very well, definitely not nutritious food either. You truly had let yourself fall apart, even before the relationship ended.
It was time to change that.
You made up your mind in a split second – it was not fair to yourself, to your mind and body, to keep treating it this way. It was time to take care of yourself and your environment. The apartment, despite lacking items now, was a jumbled mess. It was disgusting and it needed to change.
In just a shirt and a rather catchy song stuck in your head, you begin quickly tidying the apartment up. Old trash sitting in the can? The bag is tied and waiting by the door to be taken out. Old food sitting in the fridge? Tossed into a new trash bag, tied up, and left at the door. You stripped the bed of its sheets and threw them into the wash before grabbing a new set to redress the bed. You then grabbed an empty hamper and started collecting your clothes from the floor of the apartment, not realizing a particular cloth you used to clan yourself up earlier was missing…
“You’re my soda pop, my little soda pop!”
You finished organizing your alarming amount of dirty laundry into their respective darks, colors, and lights. Now all that was left was to clean yourself up.
You looked at Missus who was now lying on your made bed, looking like a little loaf. “You know what, I think it’s time I go to a bathhouse. I used to love them, and I deserve to go back, don’t I? Yes, yes, I do, Missus, yes I do,” you began cooing at her.
She looked unimpressed.
After a quick rinse off in the shower and throwing some comfy clothes on, you grabbed your purse and you were out the door to the bathhouse!
And then you went back to your apartment because you forgot the stupid trash.
And now you were here, relaxing deep into the herbal waters with their earthy scent. You closed your eyes and let your mind run blank. The sloshing sounds of water filled your ears, the sounds of ahjummas scrubbing someone in the distance, whispered chatters, and light humming accompanying it. It felt familiar and comfortable, but also just genuinely nice.
You needed this.
“But do you deserve it?”
Your eyes snapped open again and water sloshed around as you sat up. It was quick to see no one was around you, so no one was whispering in your ears.
You waited with bated breath to see if it would say something again, but after a few moments of silence you settled back into the water again, a little more tense. The voice was a mere whisper, nowhere near as loud as it usually was. Perhaps as you were bettering yourself it would disappear entirely.
Slowly you let yourself loosen under the water’s heat once more, still a little on edge. You wanted to enjoy the water’s warmth a little longer before having to go be scrubbed down so you did your best to ignore the haunted feeling that washed over you.
Twenty peaceful minutes flew by, your fingers showing shines of pruning and letting you know it was time.
Time for pain.
The scrubbing genuinely hurts, it is not pleasant, but it is extremely gratifying and enjoyable. The first few times are awkward too. It is uncomfortable to be splayed out in-front of an attendant nude as the day you were born, waiting for the exfoliating mitt to descend upon your body and rip off your upper layer of skin. Not to mention – They. Get. Everywhere.
But afterwards, you feel smooth and fresh. Off goes the old, tired skin, out comes the glowing, healthy layer.
This time was no different for you. Despite having many scrubs done in the past, it always felt embarrassing to be scrubbed and touched by the older lady. The worst spots are between the toes, between the legs near your bits, and the armpits with boob combination. Then she flips you like a pancake to get between your cheeks. Despicable.
Yet, like always, you walk away feeling the sting of refreshment and lost skin cells. You feel rejuvenated. Is this what snakes feel like when they shed?
You wear a loose towel as you sit in the sauna room, the final step of your bathhouse routine. The sweat pours down your face and chest, and your thighs are also uncomfortably slick with sweat against the wood panels. In here you sweat like crazy, but this is the final detox. The hot steam opens your pores, allowing the nasty shit in your system to pour out with the sweat.
And as always, you last about fifteen minutes before you physically cannot handle the scorching warmth.
“Phew, I feel great,” you moaned to yourself as you swapped your moist towel for a thin, dry robe. “Time for tea.”
You grabbed your little coin purse and walked out of the women’s private area to a secluded vending machine a little aways from the lobby main area. It was near the door that separated the women’s area from the men’s. No one ever uses the door but staff, guests remaining respectful to their counterparts.
You inserted the coins into the machine, humming Soda Pop once again as you choose a bottle of iced tea as a refresher for your parched soul. The sauna always makes you a thirsty bitch.
You retrieved your bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking an unattractive swig. “Deeeelicious,” you hummed satisfactorily as you turned to walk back to the locker room.
The next second was a chaotic blur.
The wooden door separating the bathhouses suddenly swung open as a group of pink blobs rushed through it. Your uncapped tea fell from your hands as you narrowly avoided the door, the cold beverage splashing on the floor and creating a puddle. As you threw yourself out of the door’s path your slippers betrayed you, your feet slipping one way and your body hurtling towards the wall.
You let out a wheezy “Oof!” as your midsection slammed into – wait that’s not the wall? What the fuck?
Looking away from the wall and down, you realized there was a rather strong arm wrapped around your waist, fingers digging into your lower hip and muscular chest against your back. Whoever slammed the door open was oh-so courteous to at least catch you.
You quickly righted your footing so you could stand on your own. You attempted to pull away, but the grip of this person was abnormally strong, to the point you barely budged. Sudden anger built within you. Wearing a stoney glare, you snap your head to the side to confront them.
“Could you fucking no-“ Your tongue immediately shriveled in your mouth.
Was this another illusion? Are you dreaming? Did you die in the sauna room?
Why was Abby, a member of the Saja Boys, standing in the women’s bathhouse?
Why was he still holding on to you?
Why was he running?
HOLY SHIT HE IS TOUCHING YOU!
“Careful now, wouldn’t want you getting hurt,” he chuckled, face still inches from yours.
You swallowed hard, your face flushed for a whole new reason. “I- you- women’s bathhouse why?”
You could die.
He laughed a little, his grip loosening and pulling away to your truthful displeasure, but it allowed you to whip around and full face him in his glory.
Abs was wearing a light pink button-up shirt that was borderline about to pop open. It was tight, displaying the upper portion of his pecs and short enough to see the bottom of his muscled stomach peeking. Ripped skinny jeans adorned his muscular legs and finished off with a pink pair of sneakers. Even better, he wasn’t wearing the beanie from earlier, so his fuchsia locks were styled yet fluffy, so pullable…
“Like what you see, babe?”
Fuck – he caught you ogling him.
You felt your face burn brighter as you attempted to scramble for dignity, missing his razor-sharp smirk at your reaction. “Sor- no! No, no, no, I was getting the drink and the door and suddenly I am going down and even more suddenly you’re here and- I’m not stalking you!”
He blinked as you finished your ramble before releasing a full, deep-belly laugh. This man was genuinely cackling at your flailing about whilst attempting to get a coherent statement out.
“Oh baby,” The pet name causing your heart to spike, “You make me laugh. I was just pulling your leg, I know I am easy to stare at, no shame there.”
There was not an ounce of teasing when he said that too, he genuinely meant it. Abby knew he was attractive and believed the world knew it – he wasn’t wrong.
“What are you even doing here?”
The words tumbled out of your mouth, the filter between your tongue and brain disintegrated apparently. The question came out a bit harsher than you intended but it was valid. Why was he in the women’s bathhouse?
He was quick to fire back, “I could ask you the same thing.”
“No, you can’t,” you spoke a little slower this time, pointing a finger at the wall where the name of the bathhouse was plastered. “This is the women’s bathhouse, for women. I am a woman. The men’s is that way, the way you came barreling from.” All of this was bluntly stated because, genuinely, you were losing your mind but desperately trying to keep your cool.
You were talking to Abby, a fucking idol. A sexy, hot, muscular, attractive, sinful idol.
“Right.” He had a hint, the lightest hint, of sheepishness on his face, almost indiscernible. “Right, we were in there trying to enjoy ourselves after the show when a few of our crazy fans appeared and started making a fuss. It was getting messy so we had to leave for our safety.”
It sounded logical enough.
“Oh right, the game show was tonight, huh?” You tried to ease the awkward energy you were mainly exuding.
That smirk was immediately back on his face. “What? You’re telling me you didn’t watch me play games tonight? You’re breaking my heart over here.”
You felt embarrassed, borderline scolded despite such playful words and tone. “Sorry, I was here-“
Abby interrupted, “But you couldn’t have stopped by first to come see us, see me?” He stepped closer, your face bursting into flames with his proximity, unable to fully hold eye contact. “I know I would have loved seeing you there, to see you standing out in the crowd. I can practically see using your little light stick, wearing my shirt, screaming my name…”
The sauna felt cold with how hot this air felt now.
Flashes of this afternoon played in your mind. The way the handle of the light stick filled you, the way you moaned and squirmed from pleasure. You can still feel his touch ghosting your stomach, his finger massaging your clit, his deep voice growling in your ear.
“Abby, babygirl, scream it while I make you cum.”
“You promise you’ll come to the next one though, won’t you? You will be there,” his voice dropping, letting you know it wasn’t a question but rather a command, one you could only nod your head to agree too. “Atta girl.”
“Atta girl, take it all in for me.”
You whimpered at his words and the memory of his illusion.
It was still playing in your mind, projecting in front of you. Abby’s eyes turned golden, lips pulling back into that seductive snarl that displayed his canines. You knew your mind was conjuring it, but it looked so real.
The moment was shattered when the wooden door swung open again, nearly colliding with your shoulder had Abby not yanked you forward. The door was attempting to bruise you at least once it seems.
As it closed, there stood the leader of the group, the one with black fluffy hair. He was also wearing pink and appeared to be breathing a bit heavy.
He looked straight as Abby, troubled face morphed with confusion. “Why are you still here? Why aren’t you with the others?”
Abby gave a lazy smile. “Fan service, Jinu, gotta stop to see my favorite lioness. She is part of the Pride after all.”
You gave a little wave.
The leader, Jinu, snapped his attention to you, his stern eyes smoothly transitioning to seductive appreciation and beautiful smile adorned his face. “Welcome to the Pride, we love such supportive fans such as yourself. We need you.”
“Um, hi, yeah,” you stuttered, not necessarily comfortable talking to attractive men at this point.
“Are our fans still in there?” Abby asked, emphasizing the wording slightly.
“They are being dealt with, they are quite the handful those three,” Jinu laughed before his smile dropped slightly. “Abby Saja, when you’re done, hurry back so we can… rehearse, got those Idol Awards and I hope you can be there to support us,” Jinu looked back at you. “And remember, the Saja Boys love you!”
Jinu gave you a beaming smile, eyes closed as he gave you finger hearts and waves. With one last nod at Abby and a smile sent your way, he turned tail to continue towards the lobby, and you assumed to the exit doors. The women at the front desk must be having a feel day with such handsome idols passing through.
And again, you were alone with the pink-haired wet dream.
“Crazy fans in there, huh?” You chuckled dryly with a point of thumb at the men’s area, trying to fill the silence once more.
“You could say that,” he chuckled. “You could even say they’d kill to get to us.”
Yikes. What crazy ass sasaeng fans do these guys already have? They literally debuted today.
You literally masturbated to him today.
You cleared your throat. “Right, wow. You guys got to have great security then, right? Strong team?” Your words sounded weak even to yourself. It was clear you were trying to keep the conversation going despite having no idea what to say. It was making your anxiety skyrocket.
“You’re just desperate for attention, attention you don’t deserve, Y/N.”
Not now, please not right now. You tried to compose your face, try not to react, but it is hard when the voice whispers. A cold breeze blew along your spine, goosebumps raising as you felt a shadow descend upon your consciousness.
“Do you really think he’d be interested in you? He isn’t, he won’t be. You don’t deserve his att-“
The whispers were cut off, utterly muted by Abby wrapping his arms around you and smothering your face into his muscular chest.
Was he actually hugging you? Why? Could he see the distress clouding your eyes? Was he comforting you?
A deep, almost guttural hum came from his chest. It sounded akin to a growl you could argue. His pecs vibrated with the sounds, making you hyperaware of how your body was pressed against his. Your arms were frozen at your side, your brain unable to comprehend how he was holding you let alone tell your limbs how to react.
First, your face was buried into his chest, his cologne invading your senses entirely, intoxicating. It was somewhere between a musky and oriental cologne. The smell is not too overpowering but enough to cause you to go animalistic, a scent you would remember at night when you sought self-pleasure. It was sinful to smell so good.
And second, you were painfully aware of how thin the bathhouse robe was by how every inch of you molded into every inch of him. Your breasts were squeezed to his upper abs, nipples peaked against his muscles. Your stomach held a similar fate, but also rested against his groin and it made you wonder if his jeans were rolled a little wonky-
Or was he just that well-endowed?
And don’t even start on his hand placement! He had a firm yet gentle grip on the back of your neck fingers gently entwined with the hair at the nape of your neck. His other arm was slung across your waist, but his hand firmly dug into the meat of your hip – akin to his hold earlier – but the way his fingers dug in made your pelvic floor squeeze a little.
Images of him holding your neck while he made you ride him flashed through your mind. The way he would gently squeeze your neck as he pushed himself back into you, making you take him fully. The way he his grip would bruise your hips as he pounded into you from behind, his fingerprints embedded into the tender flesh. It would bruise so perfectly.
Whilst you frothed over being molded against him, you remained blissfully unaware of what was truly happening.
Oblivious from the soaking water demon that arose from the spilled tea puddle behind you, ready to feast on your soul Gwi Ma had effortlessly wormed into. The demon’s eyes werfe soul focused on you, wet hair sticking to sickly blue skin. It extended its’ hand towards your energy, ready to open its’ jaws and consume your life in the name of the demon lord.
Only to halt at the sight of the lion-like demon who held you in its vice grip.
Eyes molten gold, slitted so sharply, full of rage and possessiveness. Deep purple patterns formed across his tanned skin, crawling down his face and into his neck. His lips curled back, exposing sharp canines as he released a low growl. A black energy oozed off his frame, chilling the lesser demon to the core.
No words were spoken, but the threat was clear.
“She is mine.”
The water demon quickly began to dissipate back into the tea puddle. As it sank it kept its head bowed, refusing to look at either one of you now. This was clearly a special circumstance if one of Gwi Ma’s personal stars was here for her.
You felt is grip suddenly loosen, and despite wishing to remain against him, you pulled yourself away. However, his gaze was trained behind you, looking rather stoic. His brown eyes held a tinge of annoyance, and anger?
You peeked behind yourself, seeing only the wall and the rippling puddle of tea from your spilled bottle. Shit, you would have to get something to clean that up.
When you turned back around, Abby’s eyes were soft and seductive again, no trace of the previous emotions you had thought you saw a second ago. He gave you a lopsided smirk. “That robe is a little thin, don’t you think?”
Flames crept up your neck and face as you realized while you felt every inch of him, he felt every inch of you too. You quickly crossed your arms over your hardened nipples, wishing the floor would open and eat you alive. “Well, it gets hot in the sauna, and you walk out sweaty, an-and it feels nicer to not wear something thick. Plus! Who goes around huggi- why did you hug me?” You rambled once again, trying to hurtle over the embarrassment.
“I like you like this,” Abby cut-off.
You shifted on your feet, mumbling, “Like what?”
He leaned down, invading your space once more.
“I like when you get all bothered for me,” he looked down at your heaving chest, the robe gradually loosening to expose more of it. “You get so flustered, it’s addicting to watch.”
Your breath was rapid, yet it felt like no oxygen was getting to your brain.
Standing upright again, he gave you another crooked smile. “I should get going, I have to go rehearse after all.” He began to back away, eyes never straying from yours. “Go enjoy a cold shower, I hear it feels great after a steamy session in the sauna.”
Your throat was locked, vocal cords frozen and mouth completely dry.
“I will see you again soon, Y/N, and keep pampering yourself,” he ordered as he finally turned around, ready to walk out towards the lobby exit.
However, he didn’t leave before locking eyes again with you.
“You deserve it.”
With that, he was gone, leaving you confused and breathless in the corridor. So many feelings ran through your body – the top three being horny, anxious, and bewildered.
Summary: After a depressive spell after a heart shattering break up, you find yourself distracting yourself from the voice in your head. Perhaps you can fixate on a member of a new boy band that debuted literally in front of you, but is it what it seems?
Content Warning: Cheating, Depressive Thoughts, Feeling Horny Af, Misuse of a Lightstick, Masturbation, Low-grade Stalking
Check Out Part 2: Here
Be gentle with me - I know I like it rough but it has been a long time since I've written something and I am a little vulnerable, okay 🥺
I am very rusty and didn't really proofread but here we go! I was inspired to clack away once again my some really talented people but also because there isn't enough Abs, so please enjoy.
Also, I was inspired to clack back onto the keyboard by @kinsuim who has been posting non-stop masterpieces and if you haven't already, please go check out their work. Phenomenal, chef's kiss.
-
Three years, you had given him, three full years of your fucking life and it would end this way. You had given him your heart and he shattered your soul.
Daniel, your now ex-boyfriend, pleaded at first for you to understand. "It's not what it looks like" and "Please, it didn't mean anything" poured from his mouth, clichés that fell on deaf ears. However, when you couldn't stop crying, when you just couldn't understand his side of the story, those words quickly became truly toxic.
"It's your fault, you're never here" because you work to support him and yourself so you can live somewhat comfortably.
"You say you're always tired, you never have time to satisfy me" because you are always working and struggle to maintain a social life.
"You've let yourself go, it's hard to be attracted to you sometimes" because you would come home exhausted, but still have to clean and cook as well as take care of chores he couldn't seem to find time to do - how could you have time to pamper and relax?
"Maybe if you weren't a fucking prude and put out more, I wouldn't have to go elsewhere..." Truthbetold, you couldn't find a suitable response to this one. Yes, you were chronically exhausted all the time from constantly working overtime. Yes, your stress levels felt through the roof 24/7. But generally - you just weren't in the mood to be intimate with him.
Sex with him was average at best - minimal foreplay, switching between two to three positions, and just waiting for it (for him) to finish so you could shower and sleep. You loved him with your entire, but sex with him wasn't the highlight of the relationship. His love for you, his adventurous soul, his caring heart was what made you love him beyond the realm.
But that seemed all for not now.
Not when you caught him fucking his coworker on your bed, in your room, in your apartment.
And in front of your fucking cat.
-
The good news was your name was on the entirety of the apartment so Daniel had no say when you kicked his ass out. Of course he fought back, stated he had paid a minor part of the rent, but the landlord (bless her soul) was quick to state he wasn't even on the lease and therefore had no right to stay. After half-an-hour of fighting and a threat to call authorities, Daniel proceeded to walk off the property with several boxes of haphazardly packed shit.
And you were left cold, in an apartment you once considered warm with love. Now it just felt empty, dull, lifeless - or perhaps that was just a reflection of yourself.
You refused to slump on the floor and sob, like the women in dramas do. Instead, you took a different approach that they do which is walk to the nearest convenience store and purchase several bottles of soju, get drunk off your ass, dismantle the entirety of the apartment to rid anything that reminded you of Daniel, then pass out on the couch because the bed was "tainted with disgusting betrayal" you muttered.
You refused to cry at first, trying to feign strong and stay angry while you poured another shot of soju. But the more you drank, the more the unwanted emotions crawled to the surface. You began hearing a rather grim track play in your mind, repeating, like a broken record over and over.
Sobs racked your body for several moments before you passed out from mental and emotional exhaustion.
"You're the problem, Y/N, you'll never be good enough."
-
You felt like a zombie for weeks after the break up, that same voice just scratching at the back of your mind constantly with the same grim message. At first you tried to ignore it, but it felt like that made it louder. You saw a therapist and while it helped to discuss your emotions and trauma, it didn't stop the voice from preying upon you in the night. You tried so many methods - went for walks, took supplements, tried working out, hell you redecorated the apartment and even bought a new bed!
Nothing was working. The pain and misery only grew, burning like a roaring fire. You began slowly accepting the voice, when...
Golden.
HUNTR/X released Golden and it was beautiful. It was the first time you cried in an accepting manner, almost relieving in a way. Something about the way the lyrics soothed your soul, made you feel warm, made that voice quiet for awhile. It was a breathe of fresh air.
It quickly became your most replayed song.
The voice that played in your head was muted, but the volume would crank up again when you would see loving couples walking around the city. It would become loud when you watched a romantic drama and felt your heart twinge with heartache again. It was hard to not be reminded that you weren't enough for Daniel...
It was this very thought you were pushing out of your head right now as you walked through the busy plaza, seeing cute couples holding hands and wearing matching outfits.
Golden played through your earbuds but lately, as you replayed it more and more, it lost its potency. The song was still beautiful and you had really wanted to see it live, but the night of it was canceled because the lead singer Rumi had laryngitis and was unable to perform. It still helped, but the voice in the back of your head was persistent and reminded you of your shame.
"You know we're gonna be, gonna be golden..." you muttered to yourself, trying to mask the voice once again. Today it was being especially persistent, loud enough that you decided going for a walk downtown was a better option than staying at home sulking. You thought that the sun and fresh air could do you some good, but that was before you saw the cutest couples just marching around together.
"You don't deserve that love, it's not meant for someone like you," that voice whispered once more, clearly cutting through the song that blasted into your ears.
"Fuck you," you couldn't help but mutter back. Frustration clawed at your soul, making you rip out your earbuds and stop in the middle of the sidewalk - inconveniencing the couple behind you and clearly upsetting the girlfriend.
"Good," that voice drawled, "Why should you be the only one to feel inconvenienced?"
Ignoring it once again, you quickly apologized with a slight bow before scampering to the side. Now out of the way, you surveyed the bustling area around you. It was abnormally busy for a random Thursday. Adults and teenagers alike were running about, peeking into stores, gossiping while sipping on coffees, buying snacks from the street vendors.
Which is where one vendor caught your eye - a bright pink pop-up with a lion head on top. It seemed rather busy, customers coming and going with hands full of what looked like canned drinks and flyers.
Perhaps it was the curiosity of it's popularity that drew you over, but you found yourself drawn to the little pop-up and waited in line. Under the lion head the title SAJA BOYS was scrawled.
"Who are the Saja Boys?" A gentleman behind you muttered, mirroring your thoughts as well.
You finally got to the front where you met a rather exhausted looking individual, their eyes glazed with a lifeless hue.
"Thank you for joining us here at the plaza to see the debut of the newest boy band, Saja Boys. Please take this free soda and cloth, here is a flyer as well. Enjoy the performance starting here soon."
This person had clearly said it hundreds of times with how monotonous it sounded.
You looked down at the goodies you were handed. There a bright pink can of soda with the lion logo on it, a black cloth with a pink lions head, and a flyer on with their name and logo on it as well. According to the information, it was starting shortly in the plaza center and it was a free performance.
"Why not, might as well," you mumbled to yourself as you began to walk over. Stuffing the flyer and cloth into your little side bag, you looked closer at the can of soda you were given. "What the actual fuck is Abs flavored soda?"
You turned the can to see what the ingredients list was because Abs wasn't a flavor but instead of seeing the usual table of additives and flavorings, it just said 1000% YOU on the back. Cute but useless for deciphering anything about the drink.
Regardless, you cracked it open and took a cautionary sip. It was pleasant, refreshing even. It had a fruity yet florla taste, something with berries and perhaps hibiscus. It was surgary and sweet, and honestly addicting. You almost hoped there would be more available after the free concert because this was delicious.
Your attention to the deliciously cold beverage was torn away when a cloud of purple smoke suddenly started to form in the plaza center, quite close to where you were actually. And just as sudden as the smoke, a background track started to play, the smoke clearing, and there stood...
Holy shit, these men were dangerously attractive.
Boy bands were objectively good looking, but these men were sinfully attractive. They wore bright colors and had even brighter hair, except who you assumed was the dashing lead who had very fluffy black hair. Their voices were like hot honey, smooth but set fire to your insides and soul. And clearly the crow agreed because everyone was going feral, even the older ahjummas were running up to them.
"Lookin' like snacks- 'cause you got it like that!
Take a big bite, want another bite, yeah!"
Fuck you in every position, you think you just found the one the soda was named after and fuck all if you didn't want a taste of him. Man was ripped, to say the least. His abs flashed from underneath the shorter green shirt, pecs ready to rip through the buttons, biceps pushing the seams to their limits. He held a dangerously seductive smile, hazel eyes sharp to match, the darker pink locks under his beanie bouncing softly as he danced.
For the first time in weeks, you felt genuine attraction towards someone and felt the familiar need to masturbate.
Because of him.
And as if he heard your thoughts, he turned to face you. Whether it was part of the dance or not, his eyes found yours and even gave you a wicked smirk, tongue coming to wet his lips for a moment and you felt the fire inside roar hotter. With one last wink, he flipped around to join his band mates in dancing for the main chorus.
"You're all I can think of, every drop I drink up.
You're my soda pop,
My little soda pop!"
His head snapped to you again as he sang and danced. And perhaps it was the delulu talking, but it felt so intentional as he sang the line "My little soda pop."
Regardless of your impending delusion and horniness, the song was ridiculously catchy. You found yourself dancing along without realizing, laughing and singing along as your shoulders popped side to side. These men were ridiculously talented and must be sponsored by a great talent agency because somehow, there was a giant soda can rising from the ground as they came to the end of the song.
As they delivered the last lyric and posed, the crowd and yourself went wild. Screams and cheers erupted from everyone, the energy was high and chaotic.
The leader began talking to the crowd as other members began to throw assorted merch at the crowd. It looked like light sticks, shirts, more cans of soda - you watched it all fly by in the air.
You turned back to the devilishly handsome men just in time to see the most chiseled, pink-haired specimen staring directly at you. There was no mistaking it this time, no delusion, because he crouched down slightly to throw merch at you. His eyes connected with yours, shirt tightening as he stretched, and down came a black shirt and bright pink can of soda.
It was suddenly hard to breathe because even after catching the merch, he stood up but continued to stare at you, dark eyes never breaking eye contact with you. You could hear the leader telling you to tune into the show tonight to watch them and that Saja Boys loved everyone.
"My Little Sodapop."
The baritone voice of the god standing above you rang straight into your core, a whimper coming involuntarily from your lips as he sang the words looking at you.
Another wink, a flash of purple, and they were all gone.
You were touching yourself tonight.
-
After buying a Saja Boys light stick from a stand nearby, you rushed home.
The need for release was suddenly consuming you, burning you up alive. Images of the pink-haired demon, his smirk, his tongue, those abs, it all played in your mind. You felt hot all over, mind plagued with him.
Crashing into your apartment, you threw everything down haphazardly and began to strip down. You felt warm, warm from your run and warm from the need that built inside you.
You threw your bare body down on your bed, fingers immediately between your wet folds. How you got this wet from that brief performance, from what you could barely call an interaction, was borderline ridiculous, perhaps he even embarrassing. Were you so starved you were getting off to a man who you looked at once, a man who's name you didn't know?
Yes, yes you were and you weren't ashamed.
"Fuck," you whispered breathlessly, fingers ghosting your sensitive clit. It had been awhile since you had touched yourself, or let alone been touched, and every nerve was on fire, sensitivity through the room.
A load, lustful moan filled the room as you put your fingers inside yourself, feeling your own tight walls clamp against two of your fingers. You didn't feel full enough, but you still slid your fingers in and out of your wet center and massaged your palm into your clit.
The pleasure felt amazing, the stimulation causing your body to stiffen and relax repeatedly, but...
"Not enough," you cried out, your climax seemingly out of of sight despite the stimulation.
A red glow filtered behind your eyelids, making them snap open as you look to the side. Mysteriously the light stick you bought had turned on, glowing bright red, beckoning you to it.
You removed your fingers from yourself, latching onto the handle of the light, smearing your own essence along it. You brought it to your face, the lion's eyes boaring into yours, like it was commanding you to do its bidding.
It seemed to glow brighter as you neared the handle closer to your pussy, urging you to use it for your own pleasure. Shifting your hands, you brought the handle down and began to rub it through your folds, pressing it into your clit.
Immediately, pleasure began to burst through your veins, stars dancing across your closed eyelids. You hadn't even inserted it into yourself yet, but it felt euphoric already.
After gliding it against yourself multiple times, coating the handle generously, you began to ease it into yourself gently. Your eyebrows scrunched at the foreign intrusion, walls tight and unsure if it was welcome.
The stars behind your eyelids were replaced suddenly with images of him again - pink hair tusseled, chiseled body on bare, his abs and chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat.
He was above you, panting through an open mouthed smirk, sharp canines on display, deep voice practically growling, "Atta girl, take it all in for me."
His golden eyes were locked with yours as you let a loud moan once again, the handle not fully fitting within you but filling you deliciously. Without breaking eye contact, you began to move it in and out of yourself, the motion filled with urgency as you climbed the ladder of euphoria.
Whimpers, pants, moans, began to fill the air, squelches sounding from your pussy as you used the light stick to pleasure yourself. All the while, those sinful golden stayed on you, watching your expressions, trailing down your naked body, locking in on to the light stick.
"How does it feel? Hmm?" He asked, his voice alone causing your eyes to roll, "Feel good fucking yourself with it?"
His words had you bucking up into the stick as it pushed in. "Feels good, 's so good," you mumbled incoherently.
He understood nonetheless, letting out a deep breathy laugh, "And yet you still wish it was me." It wasn't a question, it was a fact, one you could only whimper to answer.
After a few more strokes you suddenly felt the lightest touch along your stomach, a whisper of fingers as they trailed down towards your center.
Gold eyes met yours once more before deft and firm fingers pressed into your clit, a scream erupting from you lips at the stinging pleasure it brought. There was no mercy in his touch, his goal was to make you finish for him.
"What a good little slut you are for me," he taunted. "You don't even know my fucking name but you're sitting, fucking yourself to me."
Your arms were starting to get sore from the repetitive motion but you were teetering so close to the end, his ministrations and edge words hurtling you towards the finish. You needed this, you craved this.
"Be a good girl and scream my name when you come, Y/N, scream it for me."
Your blown out eyes met his again, trying hard to peace the sentence together, "What name, what-" cutting yourself off with a sharp moan, his fingers never letting up as you began to crest to the peak.
He leaned down, plump lips brushing your ear, biting his name out for you to scream.
You cried his name, chanted it like a fucking mantra, as you fell over the edge and into the darkest, deepest pit of euphoria. Your vision went black and you swore you felt something bit your neck as you fell.
When you opened your eyes again, the illusion of the sexy man was gone, his fingers never touched you, words never whispered, nothing. But you enjoyed the hallucination while it lasted because it felt amazing.
You removed the wand of the lightstick from yourself, grimacing how it was covered in your juices along with the sheets under yourself. Perhaps you broke it because it no longer shone red, which sucks because it wasn't cheap but you have no one to blame but your vagina.
Standing up with shaky and sore legs, you swiped the cloth from your bag and wiped yourself off with it. You were dripping from your orgasm and covered in sweat, feeling droplets roll down your face, neck, chest. Dropping the cloth to the side, you unfolded the shirt the chiseled vixen gifted you as well. From first glance it just seemed like an extra large shirt with Saja Boys written in fuchsia letter, but the lettering on the bottom made your heart drop and the sweat on body feel ice cold.
Abby.
The name Abby was scrawled at the bottom corner of the shirt in gold writing.
The same name your illusion of him told you to scream when you came.
And in the corner, gold eyes watched you from the shadows, lips smirking at how your heart and mind raced with momentary panic. You had no idea he was there, lurking over you.
He brought his fingers to his plump lips, a flash of a tongue parting them, and the sinful flesh tracing, licking your juices off of him. A silent groan built in his chest, a rumble at how exquisite you taste.
summary: after the incident in your apartment, you can’t help but feel watched. and no matter what you do, the awful feeling chains you…never wanting to let you go.
warnings: MDNI/18+, language, trauma (then comfort), mentions of death, mentions of blood, stalking
You stare ahead at the flashing red and blue lights illuminating the street.
Another medic comes again, their concerned voice being traveled from one ear to the ear. It utterly traumatized you, highlighting the reason you never liked watching gore. Your lip trembles as you speak in a hushed whisper, calling the name out as if they were your only savior.
“Regina.”
The cops were talking amongst each other, stern faces looking at one another with discontent as they began leaving. You watched another carry the severed head in a medical box, pointing out orders as everyone packed up. You couldn’t blame them.
For the past hour, you were silent as everyone interviewed you. They asked you when it happened, what you were doing, if you had a relationship with the person, and moreover, who do you think did it.
You should’ve never opened that door. Never.
Because seeing the severed head of her made your stomach churn.
The warm blanket enclosing your body was removed, exposing you to the cold air of the night. You wrapped your garment tighter, your legs crossing together to find some warmth. The medics said you’d be fine, and just to sleep well and call 911 on speed dial should anything else happen.
“Sorry for the loss, miss,” the nurse said, helping you off the edge of the ambulance, “We have some trauma therapists in…”
Her voice drowns out as you walk solemnly to your apartment, ignoring the sweet Mrs. Meryl’s worried voice. A frown dug at you as you stared at your disheveled expression in the reflecting metal of the elevator.
Your hair was messy, and your eyes were red and puffy with tears. The staring ended when the ping of the elevator notified you that you have arrived at your floor.
Only the shuffling of your feet was heard, and then stopped as you sulked at your welcome carpet that was taken as evidence.
“Motherfuckers,” you murmur, pushing open your door and locking it tight behind you. As you lean your forehead onto the smooth wood, you close your eyes, and take a long, shaky breath of relief.
How did your evil stepmother get…here?
She was supposed to be in China, where she had prayed to stay there until she died. She did complete the latter, but it didn’t answer the sick feeling. Who killed her, brought her here, and moreover, knew?
It was barely 10:53 pm. You went to call Regina.
“That was very stupid of you.”
Abs mansplained on the leather coach, between his middle and ring finger a cup of expensive wine. It was one of the ridiculous luxuries for being popular. But he didn’t care, not when he could have a better luxury.
He glared at the “leader”. The holy proclaimer of being able to save the demon race by forming a shit band that would beat the Huntrix and terminate the honmoon. But he wouldn’t lie to himself; there was success in the concerts and the rising collection of souls.
And he was really petty of that.
“It was just a quick trip, Jinu, ya?” he chugged the drink, tasting bitter and silvery, “Just got a hag and left, and—“
“But—“
Abs interrupted him, his head tilting to the side as he dandily dances the cup, “And I made sure to send her horrible soul down to Gwi-nam, so don’t worry.”
“You’re messing around too much in human affairs, Abs. I would strongly recommend you stop before I take serious action.”
The violet-haired crushed the glass in his hands, ignoring the onyx-colored blood that dripped down his palm. He sneered, laughing,
“Oh? So then let’s talk about you.”
Jinu’s face flinches, but he stands still. The demons amongst each other knew their feelings, and it was shared awfully similar.
“I see that way you stare at the fucking brat of a singer. Rumi?” he stands, his fangs shining ear to ear, “You’re not so slick loverboy, especially when you call her name out at the dead of night and sneak around so obviously.”
“So,” the demon runs his fingers through his locks, his pretty hair settling down in a part, “You’re the last person I want to hear talking about messing with human affairs.”
The room is tense with golden eyes staring deeply at each other. They couldn’t fight, not when they were being watched by the demon king and close to winning. But the urge was there, to jump at each other’s throats and fight for what they deemed correct in each others morals.
The raven relaxed, his marks fading away as he turned discontently, “Don’t let this obsession of yours be a distraction in our goal.”
Triumph tasted well as Abs grinned back, “To each their own, boss.”
He dragged out the name, sounding unserious as the door shut with a click. He looked at his bleeding palm, frowning as he picked the dainty glass out of them.
He knew he won for today, but it wasn’t a victory he wanted just yet. Afterall, the pink panties that were wedged in his pant pocket was but a step of his goal.
And how he ached to see your face again.
Your eyes had widened and you screamed, falling on your own feet backwards. Fresh tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and gasped, saying the same thing over and over again; No! No! No!
Finding all he needed to know about you was easy. You hated your parents, and more your stepmother who hurt you emotionally as you were growing up. No one was allowed to do that to you, in the past and not the present. You loved your friend, Regina, was it?
He found her quite annoying. So vulgar and way too close to you.
The man stared at the posters in the wall. His face was grinning right back at him, almost tauntingly.
“I can’t wait till I have you, y/n.”
He pulls out his phone, watching you frantically talk to the small device in your hands.
“I really can’t wait.”
“Baby! You look so dead mamas!”
Hands pampered your face and body, inspecting and cooing at you. You threw whatever clothes you had from your laundry right on your body, and the stench clung. But it’s not like you cared, you only went to visit Regina.
“I’m fine, I just couldn’t sleep well—“
“Nuh uh!” she pulls your ear, dragging you to her bathroom, “You need a baddie makeover and therapy!”
And that’s how you pretty much spent the past hour. Face masks, clay masks, hair masks, bubbly baths, waxing, and skin care. Your reflection was much better now; you looked rejuvenated and the eye bags you had earlier were practically invisible.
“Lift your leg mamas.”
Below you, Regina worked on lathering your legs with aftershave serum. She talked to you the entire time, making sure you weren’t drowning in your own thoughts.
“And that’s all that happened, huh?”
“Yeah,” you said, brushing your hair, “And I don’t feel guilty, I mean I should but like—“
“A bitch is a bitch y/n, dead or alive shouldn’t matter,” she looks up at you sadly, “In fact, the creep kind of did you a favor.”
She slaps your thigh, giggling, “You’re so thick baby! Kinda sucks you don’t have anyone to tell you that heart to heart.”
“But still,” she continues as she stands, tucking your hair behind your ear, “You have the right to grief or the right to ignore. Either one is up to you because it’s what’s gonna decide your life. That’s how it is, and you can’t just stand in the middle of the road and expect the wind to push you forward.”
The words sink in. Should you really feel bad for her? After all she’s done to you? Or as a righteous stepdaughter, should you miss her? Regina lifts her trimmed brow, waiting.
Breathing shallowly in, you exhale through your painted lips.
“Fuck that bitch then.”
She smiles, kissing your cheek as she hugs you.
“I support you babe, so,” she gropes your tits, making you gasp, “Let’s get you into something sexy.”
Laughter erupted the entire afternoon. Mini fashion shows and runway walks, and even crazy cooking with only two ingredients. You were still dressed in flamingo colors, the bright pink complimenting your smiling complexion.
Holding up a banana and a cucumber you laughed, “Think I can make a smoothie out of this? And make it gourmet?”
The blond-haired drinked her kiwi and artichoke smoothie, choking on it before she hid her mouth, “Only thing you’ll make is a nasty ass smoothie.”
A heavy weight was lifted from your chest, and feeling emotional, your voice cracked;
“Regina, thank you so much for being there for me. And for listening to me, helping me, and just—hic— being my best friend.”
“Baby, of course,” she leaned on the granite countertop, pouting as she wiped the tears from your eyes, “I fucking hate whoever nerfed me into a girl ‘cause I would treat you like a beautiful gem.”
“We could be lesbians,” you joked, smacking her playfully. She stuck out her tongue, remembering;
“On second thought, you’re too tall for my taste. I like small bimbo girls with big tummies and pretty skirts.”
“Fuck you then.” you huff, jabbing your middle finger in her face.
She shrugged playfully, smirking, “Hey, do you wanna go out this weekend again? In like five days or so? The Saja Boys are going to have another concert, and the theme is going to be rock!”
Your memory floods with what went down weeks ago, and the burning sensation of seeing him. Regina already begins to sense your doubt and she presents an argument;
“I mean, you still have that ticket to see them, no? Might as well use it before it expires.”
“Maybe,” you grimace, “But this time don’t get drunk, I need you with me.”
“Lightwork!” she whooped, falling off her chair with a yelp, “Fuck!”
“Regina!”
A thumb shoots up from behind the counter, “I’m alright babes! Though,”
Her blond hair peeks out as she bites the granite, “Do you own anything with leather?”
“No…?”
“Shopping spree it is then! Get your purse sister, ‘cause we’re going to that concert looking hot as fuck.”
It was days after the incident and you’d say you’re pretty much over it. You had filed your final report on incident, but it closed too soon due to little evidence. You’d probably never find the creep who did this to you, and a little wicked part inside you thanked them.
You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing the leather shorts hug your curves tightly. Your black shirt was nicely fitted on you, and showed your belly a little. Adjusting the studded belt, you puckered your black-lined lips. Why didn’t Regina study for fashion, you wonder.
You picked up the cropped leather jacket from your couch, making sure your ticket was tucked inside the folded pocket. Sure, maybe you didn’t like the concerts because of the safety issues, but it didn’t mean you didn’t like the boys.
Maybe you could see Abs again. Just maybe. Just to talk to him. Yeah, to finish the argument.
You took one last glance at the mirror before heading out. Ms. Meryl called out to you just as you were leaving the building, waving an envelope at you;
“Miss l/n! You have a letter!”
You clicked your tongue, walking backwards as you took the letter, “Thank you!”
“Be safe out there!”
Giving her a peace sign, you skipped to your car, turning it on and warming the engine. In the meantime, you put your attention the letter. It was another blank one. Your brows furrowed, and you opened it.
You look pretty when you cry for me.
So not only do you have a creep on your hands, but clearly a stalker too. Or they could be the same person…a creeplker.
“Probably just teens fucking around,” you sigh. After the concert, it’d be about time you ask the landlord where exactly she has been receiving these.
The drive was short, considering that the concert was much nearer than the last one. You take the letter, and throw it in the bin at the entrance. You didn’t need it anyway.
Already, Regina was there waiting for you. She was dressed in black leggings with a leather skirt over her figure. Her tits were held up by a simple top, reading, Mystery’s Boobs.
“Baby girl! Over here!” she waved you over, jumping with excitement, “I was waiting here for hours! I got this shirt on sale! But I cut it to look cute!”
She squeezed her chest, making a kissy face, “Ya’ think he’ll notice me?”
You’re grinning, “He should, with a set up like that.”
She licks her lips, laughing, and grabs you by your arm as she drags you inside. The ambiance is much different this time. People are dressed to fit the theme, in black, purple, and silver. You gawked at the entrance, seeing huge black pillars sparkle with red lights.
Entranced, you were pushed in with the crowd , gazing above. The only thing that you would ever like about concerts is presentation. The way they brought you in and captivated you entirely always made that little artist in your heart beat with joy. It was rushing, fulfilling even.
It was about 30 minutes until the show started, the countdown on the screen allowing people to linger in the food court or hang out in the pews. You peer at Regina, who’s oogling at a vendor selling drinks.
“Babe…”
She turned immediately, giggling, “Don’t worry mama, I was just looking! Say, don’t you want to redeem your ticket now as we wait?”
“Then what will you do?”
Your friend hummed, eyeing the drinks, “Well, I’ll take—“
“Absolutely not.”
You felt like a mother scolding her child as she whined, her hand reaching for the stalls as you dragged her away. There was no way you were going to lose her again, you could never know what goes down in a place like this.
“Babe please! Just one! One and I’ll be sober!”
You turn to see her teary eyes, pouting. A pang hits your heart, making you guilty. Glancing at the timer again, there was 28 more minutes left. You would only take 10 minutes and be back soon enough.
“Fine,” you say, letting her go with a warning, “But go over than one and I’ll stop coming here with you.”
She squealed, hugging you tightly as she ran right ahead. Shaking your head, you pull out your ticket from your pocket, reading;
Redeemable for one visit with one idol of your choice. This voucher does not expire. Please see an associate for details.
You turned the back of the card, seeing nothing but the logo of the band. You contemplate. Even if you did go to see Abs, what could you even say? Oh yeah, I fuck myself to you ‘cause you’re so hot.
Looking up, you walk through the stalls, hearing the vendors sing and convince you to check out their licensed merch. You ignore them, not falling for clothes that’ll tear apart and turn to string the minute you throw them into the dryer.
You stop before a man, seeing the familiar red suit. Tapping his shoulder, you say;
“Excuse me, Ticketmaster? I have this voucher I want to redeem?”
As always, the staff looked odd. The man turns around, his lips awfully bigger than his eyes as he holds an upside down clipboard. He doesn’t say anything either as he takes the card, flipping it quizzically.
“Eh, for idols?”
“Y-yeah? I just don’t know where to go.”
The Ticketmaster points straight ahead, where the Stage Crew sign gleamed green. You thank him with a bow, and head nervously to the metal door. When you push it open, you get an instant breath of putrid air. Who the hell died in here?
The hall is long and dimly lit, making you gulp. This certainly wasn’t a nice way to hype yourself up.
“It’s going to be fine.” you whisper to yourself. You take small shuffling steps along the tiled floor, red LED lights align the sides of the ground, leading ominously ahead.
The doors don’t have plaques on them nor any recognizing symbol. They’re all the same silver color that reflect upon each other. Behind one of these doors should be Abs, but you didn’t want to knock on just any of them.
You remember the time crunch you’re in, so you walk ahead a bit more and stop at a random door. A strong feeling attracted you to it, why? Even you didn’t know.
You reach out, going for the silver knob. You’re shaking as you turn it, and it opens with a creak. The music and cheers outside turn mute the moment you enter. And you knew it was his room.
And luckily he wasn’t there to see your horrid face.
You gawked at the photos of yourself all over the room. Amongst his own posters, you lay there sleeping, eating, changing, and fucking yourself.
“What the actual fucking creep.”
Your gut wrenched as you looked around more. A pile of blank letters was stacked neatly on his desk, with a black pen set nicely on top of them.
All of a sudden, the strings connected.
You take a step back, trembling. How dare you actually want him. It only proved that no matter what a man could possibly have, they’re always the same, disgusting perverts with beautiful faces.
You walk right out, backwards, holding in your puke and heart that would come out any minute.
TO ENTER: must be a follower, new ones welcomed. simply reblog the post WITH a meme to qualify. that is it. three winners will be drawn by wheel.
RULES: must be a follower with age in bio. meme can be anything/reaction pictures also count. be nice. one entry per person. don’t be greedy.
PRIZES: will write any request with fem! reader. can be with all/any/pair Saja Boy OR for the sexy people, I will write for Bobby. can be nsfw/suggestive/fluff.
1st Place: Full One-Shot
2nd Place: Half One-Shot OR Headcanons
3rd Place: Headcanons
QUESTIONS?: send an ask for a clarification on anything.
Relationship: Yoonseok
SC: Yes
Tags: Epistolary - Wrong Number AU - Sexting - Daddy Kink - just a lil bit of angst - Anal Sex - Dirty Talk
19783 words - 10 Chapters.
Author: dboys
“Unknown
[Picture sent]
wait
wait a second
i f*cked up
wrong number
I F*CKED UP
HOW 2 UNSEND
SH*T
Yoongi
okay, one: why are you sending dick pics to someone you don’t already have in your contacts
two: why the fuck do you put an asterisk in your curse words
and three: you kind of have a nice dick so thanks for sharing??”
kianamaiart
snowghoul
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
gracieabrams
