#also like the way the eyes are colored here

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ we're doing better ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ your husband has finally been honest with you, but what now?┊3.0k words; prt one (here)

contains: his pov, lots of perspective and lore, love at first sight, happy ending where the reader forgives him, note that sociopathic/psychopathic behavior has no known cure & that this is unrealistic fiction, he can’t be fixed but he can be here <3

➤ author's note: the long-awaited & heavily-requested part two!! the ending is sucky because i didn’t plan to write a part two and because i personally wouldn’t have forgiven him, but lots of you guys seemed to want to. i wanted to write something exploring their relationship, so i hope this is received well & that you guys will enjoy!

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning” were the last words you said to him before rushing out the door and disappearing to your mother’s house. that was last night, but it was now early evening with the sun finishing its descent over the horizon and you were nowhere to be seen. he briefly wondered if you were also watching it from wherever you were like he was through the window, knowing that you adored the beautiful array of colors blending into each other and always pointed it out when you were with him. he never cared for it himself and took the sight for granted until you came along. now he’s aching for your presence asking him if he thought it was pretty when you were always the prettiest sight in his eyes with the orange light reflecting on you.

his hand was itching to call you or send a text, but he decided against it. you needed your space, especially after that fateful conversation which left him with regret weighing heavy on his chest. he wasn’t sure what the regret stemmed from, if it was regret from not trying harder to keep his secret, if it was from not being more careful to hide his tracks from seong gi-hun, if it was from attempting to build a normal life, or if it was leading the type of life had in the first place. it was a mix of everything, and he hated the feeling of it.

gong ji-cheol never regretted anything in his life. he didn’t regret spending his days getting a sadistic kick out of playing judge and jury to people he viewed as worthless trash when they lost against him, whether it was slapping people he was recruiting into games they would inevitably die in or spending his free time messing around with homeless people. he didn’t regret getting tangled up with the mysterious oh il-nam and the activities occurring on that island, starting as a guard and working his way up to a salesman. he didn’t regret firing a gun on his own father in cold blood when he unknowingly begged his own flesh and blood to spare him.

he’s a man who was steadfast and stubborn when it came to his fucked-up morals and ideals, always believing from a young age that it made him better than others. there was never a reason for him to change as he got older when he found himself working for a hidden organization that introduced him to the addicting taste of death, paid well, and protected him from the law if the unlikely situation of getting caught by authorities for his crimes ever happened. he never cared to do the right thing was doing wrong was just so much more suited to him, never minding the strict set of rules he had to adhere to as long as he was allowed to freely exercise his psychopathic tendencies without trouble following him. it made him feel like a god at times who was so high above normal people if he ignored that he was still an employee with a boss.

and now he’s sitting in the living room, disheveled and staring at the floor waiting for your return like a dog awaiting its master.

he couldn’t even be mad at you for storming out like that. he’s surprised about how mellow your reaction was to learning the truth of his occupation and how dirty the cash he used to spoil you was, how you didn’t scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and how you didn’t call the police— or maybe you had already called them at some point today and his friends in higher places were working to keep him safe. more than anything, he misses you, filled with a feeling of longing he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

at first, he was only trying to look normal. the people around him started to wonder why a man as tall and handsome as he with money that flowed in like water from an unknown source he kept secret was still single. when people wonder, they start to become nosy. he couldn’t have that if he wanted to keep up the lifestyle he had, so he started searching for someone suited to be his wife. 

to others, he seemed incredibly picky, never reaching out for a second date even once or even bothering to send a polite text saying he didn’t feel a connection. to him, he didn’t think he was picky enough. despite carefully combing through his options and sometimes even hiring private investigators to stalk them if needed, there was always something he missed which was a dealbreaker for him in a relationship: ignorance and stupidity, improper table manners when he reserved at a fine restaurant, running more than fifteen minutes late without traffic in the way, and most importantly for him, asking too many prying personal questions which weren’t relevant on the first date. yes, he understands that first dates are all about getting to know each other, no, he doesn’t find it necessary to talk about stupid things. although he would rather not say anything at all, he’s very particular about how quickly he shares information about himself with others and gets ticked off by anyone who tries too hard to learn more about it (he won’t admit it, but he also gets a bit threatened by it).

by the time the day his first date with you rolled around, he was ready for it to be his last before he lived out his life alone as originally planned. he lost his faith that he would find someone who lived up to his lofty expectations and received news that oh il-nam was dead. the next games were canceled to mourn the loss of the founder, and part of ji-cheol wondered if he should cancel the date as well to take the time to pay his respects. he didn’t think you would be the one and believed there wouldn’t be any difference whether or not he actually showed up.

yet there was something in him that refused to pick up the phone and make up an excuse. it was indescribable like a higher power making sure that he followed the path intended for him. he told himself it was nothing but not wanting to be rude when it was only half an hour before the arranged time and because he didn’t want to pay the cancellation fee, nothing more nothing less. he never cared before if he was thought of as rude to people he didn’t intend to keep in his life for long, and he had enough money to buy the entire place if he wanted to.

so what was his problem all of a sudden?

you showed up perfectly on time, a few seconds before the clock struck, looking beautiful. it’s not a word he uses often. pretty, maybe, but not beautiful, yet it was the first word that crossed his mind when you introduced yourself. he found himself enamored by your presence and everything about it from how you carried yourself to the subtle glitter eyeshadow that made your eyes sparkle to the dainty jewelry hanging around your neck, so enamored that he forgot to accept your outstretched hand and to get up to pull out your seat for you at first.

more than easy on the eyes, dressed appropriately, good table manners, well-educated, never pressing too hard on matters he clearly didn’t want to talk about, you were quickly checking off everything on his list as his partner— although what he was really looking for was to draw away suspicions and your likable personality made you perfect for the job, he could even see you as a companion. even if you were visibly nervous, he didn’t mind, your timidness was adorable actually, akin to a little bunny being fed by his hand.

when he finally got home, he realized he was still smiling when he’s usually constantly reminding himself to do so. he also realized that he lost track of time and came back a whopping two hours later than he expected.

it was history from there, gong ji-cheol, a man who saw other humans as unequal trash, had succumbed to love at first sight, which baffled him.

it made him remember a scene from his childhood, one where he asked his mother why she remained married to his deadbeat father after another night of him not showing up in favor of gambling and drinking instead of spending it with his own family. she embraced him with tears, once again reminding him of her own tale of love at first sight, and also telling him that when you’re so deep in love like she was, you’re willing to forgive them for anything.

he thought she was stupid for that. now he knows he’s truly just like his mother just like everyone said.

you were shy in the first steps of the relationship, quickly realizing that you had become a glorified sugar baby of sorts. he didn’t know how to express his affection through words nor did he have the extra time to spend with you during that time of the year, so he spoiled you with lavish gifts and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. any debts you might have were paid off, one of the nicest condos in korea was bought for you to move in together, your parent's retirement was paid off in full to allow them to stop working, and any other money-related issues were quickly covered by him. you could even quit your job if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to become too dependent on him and wouldn’t know what to do with all the extra time in your day.

it soon became clear there was a boundary not to be crossed, which was not to dig too much into his personal life. if he gave you a curt, general answer to your question, you were not to say anything more about the matter. no one you spoke to about this thought this was too strange, even when you were preparing to get married, because what was there to worry your pretty head about? you love him and he loves you, he was treating you better than a queen, and his wealth spread into your circle of people you cared about with friends getting luxury perfumes and parents getting first-class tickets to wherever they wanted. in a way, they didn’t want to ask any more questions if it meant angering him and possibly not having these things anymore.

you never liked it, but he never cared about it. they were just trivial things and he was perfectly fine with sharing what he had, or at least, that’s what he told you. it was mainly to ensure he was well-liked among them and no one would ever try to come between you.

the only people who ever did were a few snakes parading as your friends trying to steal him away from you, trying to seduce him, and getting too close for his comfort. you were too sweet to notice and always forgave it if you did, but he noticed their lingering eyes and was disgusted. it was the one time he allowed his mask to slip, calling them out for being human garbage with a polite smile on his face as they gasped in shock. if they tried to cry to you about how awful he was to them, he simply told you the truth and encouraged you to cut them off which you always did.

the garden he carefully cultivated of a normal domestic life was flourishing. you were so captivated by the colorful flowers he planted and the butterflies pollinating them that you didn’t notice how dirty his gloved hands were when ripping out anything that didn’t belong like weeds trying to sprout through the soil. he was always sure to take them off and discard them afterward, never daring to touch you with the sins of his life outside of you.

then you fell pregnant after months of trying, and while he was overjoyed at first with renovations in mind to turn one of the extra rooms into a nursery, there was an unease in him wondering if the child would turn out like him: a remorseless psychopath who would one day kill his own father as he did his. he would later by a few books about parenting, hoping that he could prevent that type of future.

time flew by and he hadn’t killed anyone in a while although he was still complicit in hundreds of deaths a year. his violent urges slowly calmed and his hand was only raised during ddakji matches, but even then, they were more gentle than before (which meant that they still stung and made their face swell up, but it was an improvement when in the past, he would sometimes hit them so hard that they could taste blood on their tongue). 

the effects of being a husband and soon-to-be father were changing who he was at his very core, but it didn’t change everything he’s already done.

he was stupid to think he could have such a picture-perfect life with the woman he loved after everything. for someone who meticulously plans out things down to each syllable of the words he spoke, he didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do once he was found out.

the law couldn’t touch him, but he didn’t care about the law, he cared about you and your unborn child. 

he ran his hand through his messy dark locks, sighing in frustration trying to think of a solution as he dug around the kitchen until he fished out an entire bottle of wine. he could manipulate himself out of this situation as he had done countless times before, he’s a snake with a forked silver tongue who could easily get his way just by flickering it, but the thought of lying to you again broke his once unfeeling heart. it would never be the same way again with your relationship tainted with distrust. the truth would have to come out eventually.

oh god, but what would he do without you? 

before he could begin to spiral for the fourth time that day about what would happen if you left him, the familiar sound of a keypad being pressed and the front door being unlocked. he froze in place, not expecting you to come back at that very moment— but he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. he wasn’t sure of anything, simply staring at you when you caught him hunched over the counter drinking straight from a bottle of wine and looking like a child whose mom just caught him sneaking a snack at two in the morning.

“oh god, i leave for a day and you’re already a wreck, what happened to the ji-cheol who’s always put together even when it’s raining?” you approached him casually, reaching up to mess around with his hair until he looked more like his usual self. there was an air of awkwardness you tried to hide and was successful for the most part, but he could read you easier than a book. you were nervous around him now, acting with slight fear and carefulness like you were inching around a predator, and even flinched when he hugged you to feel your presence and breathe in your scent. 

you hugged him back after a moment, looking up at him with your voice shaking, “if it’s really… that… then i understand it would be dangerous for you to tell me, so i won’t ask any more questions… i don’t… i don’t want to leave you and leave our child fatherless…”

if you were any other person in the world, he would have smirked at the fact that he didn’t need to bother trying to manipulate you into staying with him. he would have relished his control over you and how you came back in the end, free to continue killing and asking people to play a game with him to satisfy his sadistic desires. 

but you weren’t any other person in the world, you were his wife.

“you really forgive me? after knowing all that?”

“i guess love really does let you look past everything no matter how bad… at least you didn’t cheat on me as my friends suggested, that would be the real unforgivable offense…”

the topic of his occupation never came up again, but he made the choice to resign on account of it no longer fitting with his current lifestyle. the current frontman, who was an old friend of his, looked upon him fondly for his loyalty, thanked him for his service, and was even kind enough to use his connections to find him a new place to work. it was boring by his standards, but it paid well and wasn’t illegal, so he persevered. he now has plenty of things to tell you about his workplace, from the annoying co-worker who keeps showing him the most random unfunny things on the internet to how the coffee shop downstairs wasn’t half bad. mundane things that made you grin when he told you about his day, which was all that mattered to him.

you soon gave birth to a healthy baby girl with his eyes and your smile. the world became a lot brighter, even with all the sleepless nights of her crying and learning how to change diapers. she was a little joy born out of his love for you. 

finally, you’re both doing better, and he no longer has to hide himself away from you.

tag list!! @tric0rd / @solatiiium / @iloveragdollcats / @sugaremedy / @pear-1206 / @orangutanjazz / @boowiththegoo / @knoepfl / @miaasmf / @queenjang21 / @larissa-slays69 / @munch3025 / @qrstarz / @capital-koreasofia / @swiftieee4lifeee / @liliylikescats / @maryyyswift / @vaenys2 / @bane-y-zane / @dynaloy / @chunkzdeluluwife / @everyonelovestay / @tomhollandtoothbrush

there will not be a part three, thank you for reading!!

[m00ntunaart]

3rd Star Wars daemon AU post!

Here by popular demand: The Jedi Council and their daemons!

Depa Billaba - Hooked Billed Kite (Taryz)

Mace Windu - Bald Eagle (Maisha)

Yoda - Ostrich (Kieachkta)

Shaak Ti - Hyacinth Macaw (Thevren)

(Commander Colt - Anatolian Shepherd (Pistol))

Plo Koon - Osprey (Averyl)

Ki-Adi Mundi - Great Blue Heron (Czirda)

Kit Fisto - Blue Footed Booby (Krios)

Now onto my random AU lore and thoughts:

JEDI LORE TIME: So, as I’ve said in my last daemon AU post, the Jedi generally have bird daemons. This is by nurture, not nature. The way the Jedi teach young force-users to interact with the Force usually ends up directing their daemons to settle into a bird species of some kind. Which conveniently is around the time a Jedi Initiate is either chosen to be a Jedi Knight or be sent to the Jedi Corps. While it is not a rule that a Jedi Knight has to have a bird daemon, there are stigmas in the Jedi culture that lead to Jedi Knights and Masters not wanting to pick Padawans with not-bird daemons. This was one of the reasons the Council was hesitant to take in Anakin originally. He was already past the age of being nurtured to have his daemon settle as a bird, as he was raised outside the Temple.

(If you’re wondering why Obi-Wan doesn’t have a bird daemon, look at my last post. But to summarize his daemon settled while on Melida/Daan. So not ideal circumstances) (Also Qui-Gon Jinn cares not for cultural taboos, so he did not care much that Obi-Wan’s daemon ended up not being a bird lol)

The exceptions to this bird-daemon rule is generally Jedi in the Corps and Jedi Shadows (I will be making a Quinlan Vos post at some point that goes into that more).

DEPA BILLABA and her daemon, Taryz, who is a Hooked Billed Kite.

Okay for the life of me I cannot remember the reason I picked Depa’s daemon 😅, but it was probably just: ‘I like how Hooked Billed Kites look’. So a good reason obv.

I inserted some silly interactions between Obi-Wan and Depa, and Kee-Ayt and Taryz. I headcanon that since they are the two youngest council members, they will go out of their way to act like children in front of the older council members. Just to make the others role their eyes and say ‘kids 🙄’. Despite the fact that both of them are like in their mid 30s-40s. But besides them acting like two siblings alone in the back seat of a car, they are close with each other. Taryz is the daemon most comfortable being casually around Kee-Ayt, out of the other daemons in the Council. (I imagine that since most Jedi daemons are birds, sometimes other Jedi don’t know how to interact with Kee-Ayt)

MACE WINDU and his daemon, Maisha, who is a Bald Eagle. 

In the Temple there runs a rumor amongst the Padawans about which came first: Mace being bald? Or Mace’s daemon settling as a Bald Eagle? A real ‘chicken or the egg’ question lol.

But more seriously, I really did just end up picking a Bald Eagle daemon because I wanted to make bald jokes hahaha. That and Bald Eagles just naturally look pissed all the time, which matches well with Mace’s ‘resting bitch face’.

YODA and his daemon, Kieachkta, who is an Ostrich.

My whole concept for Yoda was just: ‘if Yoda is a small species, then he should get a big ass daemon to balance it out’. And yes, Yoda rides around on Kieachkta because of course he does. And when he can’t hit your ankles with his stick, he’ll get Kieachkta to peck the back of your head (which hurts ow).

(If you’re wondering, all of Yoda’s species have bigger daemons. Like Yaddle has an Emu daemon).

SHAAK TI and her daemon, Thevren, who is a Hyacinth Macaw.

My only thoughts for Shaak’s daemon was I wanted it to be big and colorful. 1. Because she’s just this tall figure with long montrals. She just needed a big bird species to go with her impressive figure. 2. She just has always had a fun color scheme, so I thought a colorful bird of some kind would be fun. SO A HYACINTH MACAW. They’re huge and a beautiful blue color (that matches her montral stripes). I also just wanted her to have a fun, friendly looking daemon. Since she’s on Kamino most of The Clone Wars, and interacting with Tubies and Cadets. I think her having a big, loving, approachable looking daemon was just right. (Which is why in this AU, she was chosen to be the one working with the younger clones). Hence why I have so many doodles of her daemon with young clones’ daemons. 

Plus I added an extra doodle of Commander Colts’ daemon, Pistol, who is a breed of Livestock Guardian Dog. Since Colt is also on Kamino, he often is ‘herding’, ‘protecting’ and ‘training’ the young clones. So a herding/guardian  dog daemon felt right for him. (Pistol is the bad cop to Thevren’s good cop lol)

PLO KOON and his daemon, Averyl, who is an Osprey.

Tbh I didn’t have any idea what bird I wanted Plo to have. So I ended up googling ‘bird species that are good parents’ lol. And Osprey were on that list! Idk how true that is, but IN STARWARS IT IS NOW TRUE.

 Plo is just The Jedi Dad Of All Time (*cough cough* Ahsoka *cough cough* Wolffe *cough cough* Wolf Pack), so he got a Parent Of All Time bird lol. 

And yes Averyl spends all her free time trying to preen EVERY member of The Wolf Pack. Is that physically possible? I don’t know, but don’t even try to tell Averyl she can’t do it. All her furry dog children WILL feel her affection.

KIT FISTO and his daemon, Krios, who is a Blue Footed Booby.

All I can say is I knew I wanted Kit to have a sea bird, because he’s The Swimming Jedi^TM. And I love Blue Footed Boobies. 

Also Kit is a silly guy who deserves a silly bird, with silly blue feet and a silly name.

KI-ADI MUNDI and his daemon, Czirda, who is a Great Blue Heron.

Ki-Adi is a long, lanky looking dude so he gets a long, lanky bird. 

I have spoken.

(Also I see a lot of Blue Herons around where I live, so they’re a favorite of mine).

[canine-witch]

What Mystery Will Be Revealed To You?

As a collective, we may have all had some strange things happen, last year and this year. I recieved word that many are feeling like something is hidden from them, waiting to be revealed. I hope to bring clarity to you all today. Drink some water, pick a pile, and feel free to reject what does not resonate.

☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚

☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚

Group One, The Woman

Someone has been very greedy to you, seeker. You may have suffered a loss in a friend group or a social opportunity, that you blame yourself for. The catalyst may have been a large fight, and cheese or spiders may be relevant. In reality, I see a large dragon, resting upon towering piles of pearls. Someone is hoarding either you, or a great opportunity. They have been jealous and attention seeking, and dislike you having the group's attention. I also see a large feast, which rats have started eating. But, the rats are already full, and they cannot eat enough of the feast, to have it matter. You need to turn back to creativity, spend some time alone, and ask your guides for support. Feel free to walk away, you are promised more than you ever asked for, and maybe even a public apology! Blessed be to you!

Group Two, The Cat

You have faced a major setback, and have felt stuck in many areas of your life. Symbols of the moon and skulls may be present. You think that this is the power of a hex, curse, or evil eye, but in reality you have hidden personal power, that you have accidentally turned against yourself. I see a horse, running in circles under the night sky. The horse is powerful and moving quickly, but with no true direction. You need to use your energy now. You have been planning something, the time is now to bring it to fruition. You have only been hindering yourself. Get up, and believe in yourself. Many blessings to you, you will go far in life.

Group Three, The Deer

You have been confused about why you are so tired, but cannot sleep at night. You feel restless and anxious, and you are here seeking the answers why. You haven't been expressing your emotions properly. I am feeling my throat becoming tight, you need to speak your truth. I see a large swamp with many frogs, but one frog refuses to sing with the rest. You may be feeling isolated, making you scared to express yourself. The color green and the images of the planet Saturn or it's energy may be present. Tobacco smells or cigarettes may also be relevant. While your people may not be accepting, your guides and the universe is. You don't have to tell anyone if you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, but in private live your truth. Things will get easier, you will leave the past and this toxic group behind. Express yourself fully, and your exhaustion will dissipate. Blessed be, saying prayers for you. Be safe.

Group Four, The Crows

You have experienced much pain, and you have escaped that situation. But, you find yourself beginning to return to that dark place and it scares you. You are either not hearing, or refusing to listen, to kindness. I see a vision of a fox caught in a trap. There are friendly humans around trying to help, but the fox is biting and snarling at them ferociously, because a human put them in that trap. The only way to escape, is to accept help and kindness. Roses with thorns, racing rivers, and foggy woods may be relevant symbols. You may have heard or seen owls everywhere. It is a symbol of your intelligence and wisdom. You are smarter, wiser, and stronger now. You are ferocious, and able to find double crossers easily. There is nothing to fear, you know if something or someone is good. Smile, accept help, and let go of your pride. Be happy blessed one, your pain is over.

☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡.:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚

Thank you for engaging and hearing me seeker. I pray for your success in all things, and that you remain on a beautiful path.

As Above So Below, As I Say, So Mote It Be. Go in Peace.

[creamecafe]

Fate by "Design" | Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader

Summary: While doing art in a subway, the Salesman offers you to play Ddakji, a chance to win money. But you wanted his number, when you win your acquaintance with the salesman becomes much more.

Pairing: Salesman x Artist!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, flirting, allusions to smut/sex, but not explicit

Word Count:

Author's Note: This was requested by Crazy4herluv on my Wattpad book Squid Game Imagines/One-Shots. This is also my first Salesman work, so I hope you enjoy!

*Icon used for this header above that I made in PicsArt is from Pinterest. Divider is from @cafekitsune in this post*

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

The sounds of the almost isolated subway and people walking is the highlight of your daily routine. You had moved to Korea to work for a art company and you do sketches by hand.

It paid very good money but in your free time you liked to be in the subway and do art for others like New York. People would walk and stop to see what you possibly could be doing.

A lot of the time, couples, parents with their kids or even old people would ask for a drawing each day and you get paid at least $130-200 at the end of the day.

Your art simply consisted of charcoal sketches of the person who requested for the art as semi-realistic as possible with a watercolor splash in the back if they ask.

Sometimes you notice while you're drawing or sketching away looking for people to draw, you would see a man in a black suit.

He had black hair and was always carrying a suitcase with him. He was also very handsome, you thought. When you took the time to actually analyze him or look at him, not in a creepy way you thought, you noticed that he would throw something on the ground and slap people.

This guy must be insane, you thought. Slapping people everyday, but it didn't stop you wondering who he really was. You thought of going up to him and asking if he would like his own portrai. But you were nervous of asking such a good looking guy and you are an artist in the subway, so he was way out of your league.

Today felt like any other day. Until one person, the guy in the black suit came up to you. You were going to pack up for the day when you accidentally dropped pencils and other supplies on the floor, then rolled around. As you were on the ground picking up the supplies, you saw polished black shoes stop and turn in front of you.

You look up and see him. The guy in the black suit looks down at you while you're trying to pick up your stuff.

"Good evening ma'am. I have a question for you."

You got up from the floor and brushed off the germs from yourself from the subway ground.

"Hello sir. I finished my hours for the day drawing so I can't accept any art requests right now I'm sorry. You could always come back tomorrow if you like."

"I'm not asking for a drawing. I'm asking if you would like to play a game."

A game? Is this guy Billy the puppet you thought?"

"What game?" You asked?

"It's called Ddakji. Have you heard of it before?"

Ddakji. It should sound familiar but you felt like you don't know it.

"I don't think so. What is it?"

"It's very simple. You fold two pieces of paper, usually of bright colors as it's a children's game like an envelope and the goal is to throw down the paper as hard as you can so the other person's paper flips over."

"What's the point of playing the game?"

"If you win, I'll give you money. A hundred thousand won."

Your eyes widened at what he said. A hundred thousand won? That amount of money to get while doing art in a subway could take a year or two. Yet here's this handsome well kept money offering to you.

"And if I lose?"

"Well usually I slap people until they win or just give up." That explains why you see this man in the subway grounds slapping people and throwing stuff down.

"But seeing how creative you are. How about a portrait of me? Use all your creativity and imagination you can and give me something."

"Ok. I'll play. But I can change something?"

"What is it?" He turns his head to express curiosity. It's rare that people would ask for a change of things while playing, conducting he's the one in charge.

"If I win, I get to have your number."

The salesman is surprised at your boldness to ask him out.

"My number? You could walk out with a hundred thousand won. What could my number offer to you?"

"Well I might see a better prize than money. I see a real piece of art right here." You raised your eyebrow smirking

He smirks at you. This was going to be interesting he thought.

"We have an agreement then?"

You nodded. "I lose, you get a portrait. But if I win..."

"You get my number." The salesman nods smiling. "Five in a row you have to win." He then pulls out two colored orgami tiles of red and blue from his suit jacket.

"What color would you like?"

"Red/blue" you said.

"Alright then. Ladies first."

You look at him and then the ground. 10 in a row you can do this. You took a deep breath and slammed the envelope on the ground. The guy then slams his envelope on the ground flipping yours around.

It created a loud slapping sound and echoed that it startled you. You look up scared he was lying to his word and might actually slap you. You close your eyes and prepare for it.

"What are you doing?" The salesman asks

"Aren't you going to slap me?"

"You don't have to worry. I wouldn't slap a pretty face like yours. I only want a drawing."

Opening your eyes you took a deep breath. At least you wouldn't be slapped.

"1-0" The guys says. You assumed that was his keeping score

You pick up your envelope and roll up your sleeve. You threw it down but it didn't flip the salesmans. He picked his up and slammed it down flipping yours again.

"2-0". Now the chances of getting this guys number seems low and you might look like a fool. You were weren't to give up just yet. You relied on your skills of carrying an easel and so many supplies per day to the game.

Taking a deep breath, you slam down the card and it flipped the guys. You were smiled wanting to jump for joy.

"2-1" You put up 2 fingers with one hand and 1 finger to the guys face.

He said nothing but smirked. Talking wasn't his thing, you noticed. Probably why you found him attractive.

The salesman picks up his card and slams it and your flips over. It was a continuous picking up and flipping cards. You were getting better as the points were getting higher.

Now the score was "7-8". You were becoming tired and kinda wish you were home right now, sleeping. But

The salesman threw down his card and flipped yours. Now it was 8-8. A tie. Just two more and you get his number. You threw yours down and it flipped over. 8-9. Another slam from the guy and it was 9-9.

This was it. You weren't sure you would have enough energy to draw that portrait of his that he wanted. But you needed enough energy to finish this game.

You slammed it down and saw it flipped over. I won, you thought to yourself. Did I actually win? You thought.

"Congratulations. You won ma'am." The salesman smiled.

Those words felt unreal. "Yes! Yes!" You jumped around happy.

"Now, you asked for my number. I suppose you wouldn't have a piece of paper to write down my number, would you?"

What kind of question was that? You were a artist. Blank papers is all you carry. You grab your sketchbook from your bag and a pen to give to him.

He took it from your hands and wrote down his number fast. He gave it back to you and you saw it.

"What do you plan to do with that number, Miss?"

"I was wondering maybe you want to go out?"

"We can do that. Can I pick the place?"

It was the least you could let him do as he offered you money and kept true to his word to give you his money.

"Sure. I'll text you when I'm available. I might see you here too. Who knows?"

He nodded your response smiling.

"You have a good day madam"

"You too" God how you loved how formal he was and calling you madam and ma'am, even though you weren't really that old.

When you went home, you were exhausted but still smiling and excited that you got the guy's number. You texted your name so he could have yours saved as well. You went to bed, wondering what it could lead to. Possibly just one date or even more.

The next day, was the same thing. Wake up, eat breakfast, pack your things and head to the subway. You kept fixing yourself up for the salesman, wondering if he would come by.

He always comes by, you thought. He just has to. You scanned around the subway to see where he is as you didn't want to move your spot. After an hour had passed, it looked like he hadn't been around.

Maybe asking for his number was a bad idea, that he was avoiding to talk to you, you thought. A man walked by and dropped something not that far from you. It looked like money. Seeing this you get up, pick up the bill and try to call out for the man. But it looked like he was already gone. It was

Written in a black permanent marker, it says “Look at your phone ma’am”. Without thinking you check your phone and see a message. Meet me at the park at 4:30 PM. No need to dress so fancy but wear something you feel pretty in.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you couldn’t believe what’s in front of you, more likely what’s on your phone. He’s actually texting you. The weird quiet but handsome black suit guy is texting you. You packed your things and went home and went to get ready to meet him in the park.

It was nothing special that you wore. Just a simple sundress/pantsuit but it was still one of the nicest outfits you had in your wardrobe. You kept wondering just what the man in plan for you. Walking around the park, you see the man still in his suit, hands in front looking around, possibly waiting for you, you thought.

Smiling, you walk up to him. When he sees you, he smiles with no teeth but still showing joy. He reaches out a hand. Looking at it hesitantly, you took his hand. The salesman then took your hand, bowed a little and kissed the back of your hand gently. You felt your heart skipped a beat when he did that.

“Hello ma’am. We meet again.”

“Hi. Were you the person that gave me the bill?”

“Maybe, a beautiful woman like you deserves more.”

Was this a dream? Were you dreaming or is this real. This man seemed to good to be true. You two walked to what would be your first date. The place he picked out for the first date was an art museum. It displayed the finest arts across the worlds and many different paintings. The salesman would ask about each piece and how did it make you feel. You responded to many of his questions but kept looking around. You guys kept talking and asking each other questions to get more acquainted with each other.

After the museum, he took you a some place to eat. Then you guys went to get ice cream. He paid for everything and asked if there’s anywhere else you would like to go. If you tried to pull out your card or even cash to pay for your own things, he would refuse so and said he got everything and that anything you wanted he’ll get for you. It had been late, so he dropped you off home and asked how was everything and if you enjoyed it.

You couldn’t thank him enough for the wonderful day you had comparison to just drawing in a subway for hours. Before you left his car, there was a slight tension between you guys that it could be cut with a knife. The man wanted to say something else but couldn’t stop looking at your lips. Looking at him, you see his hands reach towards your face and cup it as his lips softly touches yours.

His lips were so baby smooth and his cologne was so sharp from his neck, it felt like a gas hyptonixjg you. You cup his face, grazing it with your thumb. He pulls away, still looking at you with such yearning. Your thumb still on his face grazed his lips as you said goodbye and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Ever since that night, you two have been dating. He would take you on dates to other places. Mostly just walks in the park or art related stuff that you like. Your small kisses would turn into small makeouts into something more. He would sometimes, well mostly go over to your place and sleep over. In the mornings he would make breakfast in his underwear. You wish you could draw him right then and there.

He loves to pose for your art or whatever reference you need for your assignment in class. Once a month, he'll take you out to the art store to get whatever supplies you need. Your messy clothing consisted of paint or oil pastel stains is opposite of his clean, ironed and steamed suit. But he loves it either way.

The only time that he was out of the suit was when he was in bed with you. But other than that, you wanted him to be a bit more fun. You wanted to him have more color. Seeing those videos of online of couples doing painting of each others to see both of your art skills.

You begged the salesman to do wit you and he finally agrees. Squealing you get everything ready, canvas, paints, brushes, water and paper towels. You had 10 minutes to try to get each other’s features as accurate as possible

Time passes and both of you guys are done. You show your art of him and it’s him in his suit, pretty accurate and semi realistic but some details were missing. He nods and says it’s impressive of how much you can get done in less than hour.

You ask for his painting and he turns his Canva around and you see you in an almost renaissance like painting. Your mouth dropped and all felt like years of your art skills go away to just 10 minutes.

“What! How’s that even possible? Why didn’t you tell me you were good at art?”

“Well two people can’t be the artists in a relationship. One has to be a muse, to inspire the other.”

You scoffed at his bullshit. He just didn’t want to brag. An idea came in your mind. You grab a paintbrush and leave a stroke of red paint on his face.

“If you want to be a muse, why don’t you have some color on you?”

Smirking, the salesman takes this as a challenge and grabs his paint brush and paints across your face too.

Now you guys were having a paint battle. You tried to paint him more but he lightly grabs your arm and stops you. He leads you the floor, where he’s now on top of you. Seeing this as an opportunity, you grab a bottle of paint that’s open and smeared on his white shirt. He laughs at this and rolls you over where you’re now on top of him, straddling him.

Nothing was said between you both as you kept looking at each other. Like that night of your first date when you guys first kissed. Putting your head down you kiss him and he put his arms around on your back. The paint on your guys’ face mixed with each other. Breath was running out so you decided to stop. Your heart was beating so much just as he was trying to catch his breath too.

Now you’re forever grateful you asked for his number then taking the money. It’s a better reward than what the salesman had to offer you, as you got him, yourself. It felt like a dream come true. Even if it was, you didn’t want to wake up. Everything of being with him was like straight art. Maybe it was meant to be. That day you accidentally dropped your pencils and he came up to you. It could be called fate by others. Fate by design you like to call it.

He was right, one has to be the muse in a relationship and the other an artist. But to him, it was the thing he was missing the most. An new reason to be in the subway that fateful day.

Taglist:

@deffreal, @cocofia143, @sorry-meme, @elizabeth-hatake, @nini-0808, @hobinistaworld, @ineedsmootching, @alittlebitofeverything , @happyfrog7681 , @tiuhiatus, @goofiestgoober27, @jayyyourbabe, @ninahorikoshifr, @ikeithy , @vampiregirlxoxo, @ouwioworuuu, @cloudysxkura, @l4venderia, @anthea1239, @iidontwannadiealone,

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[planet-uranie]

cw: some blood, exposed bone, stitching

guess whos back on their bullshit? ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

at some point the goal is to draw a bit of each group (gotta redo my pomefire ones since they felt a bit rough ( ;꒳;) but for now we take baby steps towards it since i wanna draw fanart of like twst ocs too ive got my eyes on a grumpy pomefiore fish and an azul-hating rock and other aus too •ᴗ•

i figured with trey making him slightly off color would make sense since he could reasonably go out amongst the people (never mind his height and build lol) (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

but for cater trying to depict the "basics of a face but not seeing any details" made me think about how thatd look (○´―`)ゞso i figured caterd probs find a way to hide his face in a way that while you can see features from different angles, like the side and such, hed find a way to hide it as much as he could

monster au for twst by @lustlovehart (prologue chapter here and full monster list here) ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) (also meant to say something between now and then but holy shit that lil brain rot blurb was just so gooood ahhhhh and thank you for all the inspo and writing you dooooo ヾ(´⌣`)ノ)

[onlinedolly]

cw: gilf leon, pseudo-incest, p in v, large age gap, mentions of toys, creepy leon to be for real, mentions of cum

great uncle!leon wasn’t technically blood related. the thought made you feel better as you chewed slowly around a family dinner, watching your grandfathers ex partner (from the force) out of the corner of your eye. he laughed along with something your mother said, sipping the whisky in his glass before he made eye contact with you. all knowing, all encompassing, eye contact paired with a raised brow, that made you stop in your tracks. the tension, the awkwardness that you had no one else to blame for, felt murky in the air.

but it was hard not to think about it, especially when he looked at you like he knew exactly what you were reflecting on. see, before now, infact several weeks before now, leon had cornered you at a pool side family get together to welcome you back into town for the summer. leon had started a seemingly normal conversation about how you were, how grown up you’d gotten, how he’d gotten divorced a couple months ago. it all felt normal, like any other family member would talk to another that they hadn’t seen in a while.

but then leon had mentioned you bathing suit, how flattering the color looked wet against your skin. and maybe, though you’d never really agree to it, you’d notice that despite all the grey hair and crows feet that remained present at the corners of his eyes, it felt nice to get a compliment from someone who was as handsome as him. and you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t blood related. and granted you had quite a bit to drink tonight, so maybe it was easier to blame it on that then the way you felt when leon leaned in and placed a strong arm above your head on the wall behind you.

from there, it didn’t take a whole lot of convincing to work you into the guest bed that night. he thought that maybe you were just easy and honestly maybe you were, and a little desperate and a little drunk and maybe you’ve seen a photo or few from when he was younger and it would be easy to just imagine you were having sex with him 40 years ago. but when he manhandled you into the bed, talking about how your bathing suit didn’t leave much to the imagination, you didn’t really want to pretend it was him forty years ago. not when he took off his shirt and his chest was covered in grey hairs, or when he slipped a thick ring clad finger inside of you, or when he pressed his body so hard into yours, legs spread next to your head, as he pounded into yours ruthlessly. there was some sick perversion that liked being fucked by someone so much older then you. someone so close to the family it’d be like fucking your grandfather.

so of course it kept you crawling back, the night after that and the night after that and the nights that followed as you let him take you however best suited him. over the kitchen island in front of the window facing the street, against the wall next to his front door because he couldn’t wait that long, even in your grandfathers bed (and that time he made sure to cum deep inside you, mumbling about how if only your grandpa could see this). he was as insatiable as you, you taught him to facetime so you could spread your cunt wide for him on the days he couldn’t fuck you like you needed, sent him daily photos of yourself in your gifted lingerie sets(from leon) with your gifted(also from leon) toys vibrating inside of you.

which led you back to here, leon watching your every move as you shifted in your seat. he could tell you were more then likely soaked and that’s when he decides to press the little button in his pocket. the button that makes you jerk forward and apologize as you plates and silverware clatter around. the vibration hit you instantly and hard. leon wasn’t a gentle lover, he had a lot of experience and that was evident when he pushed the vibrator inside of you and told you to mind yourself at dinner. it was hard when he turned the vibration on full blast unexpectedly, enough to make your legs shake under the table as he keeps a steady conversation with you grandfather. he wasn’t paying you any mind now, the only acknowledgement of you being the remote he kept using to switch it back from high to low settings. he knew what he was doing, working you to your edge before pulling you away from it. it was going to be a long excruciating dinner.

[gotta-winwin]

⭐ starring: jeonghan

💌 genre: angst, fluff

💬 preview: jeonghan held your heart in the palm of his hands, his fingertips connected to the heartstrings that led to your chest.

tw/cw: fwb!jeonghan x reader, timeskips, abstract sex, messy love, mentions of grief and depression, growing old together

🪽fic rating: 18+

☁️ masterlist & a/n: based on the song black friday by tom odell, i've always loved the idea of finding the right person yet always having to wait for the right time. this is a part of my 500 followers celebration event -- our last instalment before february!

p.s thank you so much to @lovetaroandtaemin and @diamonddaze01 for beta reading ! my lovely wife tara also made the banner <33

Breathe in. 

It was the middle of the night but you were still awake, hovering by your phone as you waited, humming some nonsensical tune as you eyed your phone. 

Tonight was Black Friday, and Jeonghan might’ve been able to scrape by the afternoon, but you knew he wouldn’t survive the night. Not without you. 

The phone rang. Two sharp notes. Just like you expected it would. 

“Hello?” You raised the phone to your ear, listening carefully to the other end. Harsh pants and deep breaths reached you, as distant music echoed through the phone. 

“Y/N.” Jeonghan’s voice was scratchy and harmed, not at all like his usual angelic tone. “I-” 

“Send me your location.” You knew what he was here for. 

>

Breathe out. 

Jeonghan encroached on your territory like old companions would, chucking his shoes off in a lonely corner before enveloping you, arms closing around your waist as he buried himself close. And as much as you knew he did not belong to you, you couldn’t help but relax. It was neither your fault or his that the embrace always felt similarly shaped to home. 

“Y/N.” Your name fell from his lips in a breathless whisper. 

The skin around his eyes were colored the shade of red. 

“Hannie.” Pulling him into your living room, you gently pushed him down onto the couch, moving into the kitchen to make him a cup of tea. Green tea. A splash of sugar. No lemon. Just the way he preferred it to be. 

Silence was a precious commodity in your time with Jeonghan, as the two of you fed off each other's silences alone. Jeonghan would feel his mind slow, his tears fade, his lungs unruffle and breathe once again. You would feel waves of heartache and lingering pain. 

Jeonghan was that vice of yours, something unattainable and unjustified. Jeonghan came to you in moments of grief -- and you knew it wasn’t right to take advantage of that vulnerability. 

You told yourself again and again, maybe next time. Maybe next time you’d see each other in a better setting, one where you could approach him and tell him how you felt. 

The time never came. 

And so, you loved Jeonghan from afar, gentle hands tending to invisible wounds as your heart laid out on the table, bruised and fresh for the picking. 

>

Breathe in. 

Jeonghan worshiped you like he was trying to forget himself. Fervently, desperately, hips thrusting in time with your shared moans, his eyes trained on you like it was only the two of you in the world. Grief would be washed away with mind blowing pleasure and the first spark of love, if only momentarily. 

When all was finished, he’d collapse beside you, sweaty skin pressing against your back as he whispered his quiet thanks, the well meant praises he promised were only for your ears to hear. He’d run his slender fingers through your hair, basking in the light your happiness gave him.

But like many good things, you and Jeonghan were always momentary. 

>

Breathe out. 

Your breath hits the cold bitter air as you watch his back profile, overnight bag slung over his shoulder as he hailed down a cab. His smile is taunt and weak as he waves, the nostalgia of your face already sinking deep into his bones. 

He’ll miss you. Just never enough to call.

>

Breathe, again. 

By the time the next Black Friday rolls around, you’ve moved apartments. No longer being in the same city as Jeonghan irks you, the feeling is strange and unsettling. You worry about him more than you’d care to admit. How he’s doing, what life currently looks like for him. Jeonghan lives in your mind far more than someone who’s just a friend should. 

The phone rings. Once. Twice. While you’ve changed everything about your life ten times over since you’ve left highschool, your number is the only thing that stays constant. 

Your finger hovers over the green. You hesitate. You know who’s on the other end of the line. Your sleep paralysis demon. Your ghost. The boy who’s been haunting you all your life. 

“Jeonghan?” You speak into your phone. 

You pick up. You always do. 

“Y/N.” He breathes out. “I’m in your city.” A pause, and you hear the sound of partygoers behind him. “Can I come over?”

The cycle repeats. 

>

Breathe, for the last time. 

Jeonghan asks to fly you over. There’s a slight shift in the way he frames his words, a bit more bashful than you were used to him being. 

“Can you come over, baby? I’ll fly you to my city.” 

Jeonghan had never once crossed the line of calling you baby. 

But of course you had said yes. You always, fucking, did. 

“Of course.” You had replied, already looking at how many shifts you could cancel for the weekend. “I’d love to come see you.” 

>

Breathe, bitch. 

“I think I fell in love with you.” He admits, halfway through a bottle of red wine. “A little bit. Somewhere along the way of-” He gestures at the air between the two of you. “-this.” 

“What?” Your heart beats, so loud you swear he could hear it. 

“I’m in love with you.” A cheeky smile graces across his face and his eyes twinkle under the dim kitchen lights of his high rise apartment. The moon is full tonight. 

“You’re-” You choke on your words. “You’re in love with me? Since when?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just sort of, happened.” 

And although you’ve played out this moment in time a hundred times in your head, what you feel next surprises you. You don’t feel love, no. You feel red, hot, anger. 

“You’re in love with me?” The words come out loud, unrestrained and full of disbelief. “Oh, why? Because it’s now convenient for you?”

Jeonghan stares at you with his mouth parted. 

“I know you were grieving- but I don’t know- it didn’t hit you that maybe it was wrong to keep me on your every beck and call for these past ten years? Showing up whenever you need a woman’s comfort and touch to help you forget?” 

“You didn’t have to pick up.” 

A rippling laugh escapes you, along with a scoff. “I love you, Yoon Jeonghan. Of course I always picked up.” 

“You love me?” Because of course, that was the only thing he heard. 

You blink, taken aback by how soft his voice suddenly is. “I do.” It wasn’t hard to admit it anymore, not when it had been the one thing defining you for so long. 

Worlds collide when your lips touch, his chapped ones clinging onto every inch he could taste. It felt different -- entirely whole and innocent. Like playground lovers learning what intimacy felt like for the first time. 

“I wanted to wait before I could let myself love you.” Jeonghan tells you after, lying in bed as he once again, threads his slender fingers through your hair. “To pull myself into some semblance of a man, a man that deserved to love you. Who could.” 

You stared into his eyes, knowing he wasn’t finished talking. 

“Tell me.” You whispered. “Let me in your head.” 

But the grace period his grief had given him was gone. 

“I love you.” Is all he says, turning over to pull the sheets closer around him. “Remember that.” 

You would look back, and recall how it felt as if he was trying to remember it himself.

>

Breathe deep. 

It was only decades later did Jeonghan finish his thoughts, the same ones he had begun when the two of you were still bumbling adults, stumbling through life with your hands outstretched. 

“I was jealous.” He voices out one day, a seemingly unimportant wednesday evening. He sits on the rocking chair with his cup of tea, an old woolen blanket tucked over his lap. His reading glasses lie delicately on his nose as he looks at you. 

At first you don’t understand. “What?” Perhaps you hadn’t heard him correctly, your hearing had been worsening with age. 

“Back then,” Jeonghan continues. “When we were still in our twenties. I was jealous of how brightly you shined. You could walk into a room and light it up like a beacon.” He laughed, his body shaking with energy. “You woke me up better than any medicine could. I was this- dark ball of hatred and grief and uncertainty towards the world-”

Jeonghan had changed over the years since then. Marriage, kids, and growing old had changed him. Falling in love with you had changed him entirely. 

“You were my buoy.” He says definitively. “And I’m sorry that it took me nearly ten years to realize that I needed you. Loved you.” 

It felt like another lifetime. 

Reaching over from your own chair, you took his hand in yours -- his fingers no longer perfect but still just as slender. “That was eons ago, my love. And we have spent much more than ten years together.” 

Breathe.

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

You sat at the table, doing your best to appear interested as your date droned on about his latest work achievements. Something about managing accounts, sealing big deals, and being “essential” to the success of his company. You’d lost track of the details five minutes in, your polite smile starting to feel like a workout for your face.

“…but you wouldn’t get that,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, like you were a child. “Teaching kids and all. It’s like... coloring books and snack time, right?”

Your smile faltered, and you tightened your grip on the stem of your wine glass, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “Not quite. It’s actually pretty challenging—teaching is about shaping young minds, not just... crayons.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, nodding like he wasn’t really listening. “But you have to admit, it’s not exactly high stakes.” He leaned back in his chair, a smug grin stretching across his face. “I mean, no offense.”

“None taken,” you replied tightly, though the bile creeping up your neck said otherwise. You took a slow sip of your wine, hoping the glass might serve as a buffer between his words and your patience. Spoiler: it wasn’t working.

Inwardly, you cursed yourself for agreeing to this. What had Ava said when she pitched the idea? “Girl, you’re way too cute to be single and wasting away in that apartment of yours. You need to get out there. Shake things up. And this guy? Total catch—tall, successful, and probably rich. You’re welcome.”

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Ava’s relentless confidence had rubbed off on you, and the idea of putting yourself out there sounded... productive, if not promising. After all, your secret crush on your cute neighbor wasn’t going anywhere.

Carmy.

You couldn’t help but think about him as Ben prattled on about his “huge network.” Carmy was quiet, focused, and sweet in a way you didn’t think he realized. But he was also impossible to read. Sure, you’d had a few conversations here and there, shared a laugh or two, but he’d never made a move. You hadn’t either—paralyzed by the thought of misinterpreting things and embarrassing yourself.

Which is how you’d ended up here, with Ben. Wonderful, condescending Ben, who clearly thought your life’s work was a joke.

“And this place,” Ben said, gesturing around the restaurant with a smug grin. “Pretty great, right? Super exclusive. I know a guy who knows the chef here. Heard he’s like, a genius or something. Figured we’d go all out.”

You glanced around the dimly lit space, suddenly more aware of the upscale decor—the polished wood tables, the soft amber glow of the overhead lights, and the quiet hum of conversation that seemed to fill the air like music. It was... fancier than you’d expected.

The Bear.

You’d heard of it, of course—who hadn’t? It was one of those places people raved about, where getting a reservation was an accomplishment in itself. The kind of place where you know the food would be incredible, but the bill would make you question your life choices. Nice, but you were pretty sure you could only afford, like, a cup of water here.

Ben leaned in closer, grinning smugly. “This chef guy? Supposedly some kind of prodigy. I don’t know the details, but people say he’s a big deal. Good thing I’ve got connections, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, noncommittal, as you glanced toward the bustling kitchen. A wave of heat and light spilled out from behind the pass, where you could just make out the shadowed figures of chefs moving in synchronized chaos.

As you sipped from your wine glass, trying to find something redeemable about Ben’s endless self-promotion, you wondered if maybe Ava had oversold this whole “dating adventure” thing.

Carmy spotted you the second you walked in.

He’d been at the pass, focused on plating an intricate dish—a delicate arrangement of seared scallops and edible flowers—when his gaze drifted toward the dining room. His hands paused mid-motion, a faint crease forming between his brows as he recognized you.

You were hard to miss, sitting near the window in a corner booth, your posture poised but just slightly tense. Dressed in something a little sleeker than usual, you looked... different. Not in a bad way—never in a bad way— Not that you ever looked anything less than beautiful, but tonight, something about you seemed… striking, enough that he found himself staring longer than he should’ve.

His eyes flicked to the guy sitting across from you. The guy who was laughing too loud, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place, gesturing with wild hands as he talked. You, on the other hand, wore a polite smile that didn’t quite light up the room as it usually did.

Carmy’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure why the sight of you with someone else tugged at his chest the way it did, but it lingered, heavy and unwelcome.

It’s none of your business, he told himself, forcing his focus back to the dish in front of him. You weren’t his to worry about.

You weren’t his at all.

Still, his gaze flicked back toward your table, almost involuntarily, catching the way your date seemed oblivious to your discomfort. Carmy’s stomach twisted at the thought. He didn’t know what he expected—maybe for the guy to notice the way you played with your napkin or to tone down his boisterous tone—but it wasn’t this.

“Chef?” Sydney’s voice broke his focus, sharp but professional.

“Yeah,” he muttered, snapping back to reality. His eyes returned to the plate in front of him, the arrangement now slightly skewed from his distraction. He adjusted it quickly, his movements precise but tighter than usual. “Thanks, Chef.”

As Sydney moved on, Carmy risked one last glance at you. The corner booth, the dim lighting, the guy who couldn’t seem to shut up—it all felt wrong. But he pushed it down, buried it under the quiet rhythm of the kitchen, telling himself it wasn’t his place to care.

And yet, he did.

He cared enough to, like some kind of creep, step out of the kitchen and hover near the hallway that led to the restrooms. It wasn’t a plan—not really. He told himself he just needed a breather, a moment to clear his head and shake off the knot in his chest. But he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself.

The low hum of the restaurant buzzed in his ears as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn’t even know what he’d say if you saw him. Maybe he’d play it off, and act like he just happened to be there. But then, what were the odds you’d even notice him? You were here with someone else, after all.

It was ridiculous, he knew that—irrational even— he should go back, really what the fuck was he thinking--

But the sound of heels clicking softly against the floor pulled him from his spiralling thoughts. His breath hitched as you turned the corner, and your expression turned to one of shock when you spotted him.

“Carmy?” you said, stopping mid-step. Your voice carried a note of surprise, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe, or even relief at seeing a familiar face in such an unfamiliar situation.

“Hey,” he said, standing a little straighter, as if he hadn’t just been loitering near the hallway like a guilty teenager. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You blinked, your eyes flicking over his clothes—the crisp white uniform. The realization dawned on you, and your brows lifted in surprise.

“You work here?”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting his weight slightly. “I, uh... I own it.”

Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “You own it?”

“Yeah,” he said again, a bit softer this time. His lips twitched into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “I started it a while back. Kind of… a long story.”

You took a moment to process this revelation, glancing around the restaurant as if seeing it in a new light. The warm lighting, the carefully plated dishes you’d glimpsed on their way to other tables—it all made sense now. Of course, this was Carmy’s place. It was thoughtful, deliberate, but somehow unpretentious.

“Wow,” you said, meeting his gaze again. “That’s... impressive.”

Carmy shrugged, his hands slipping into his pockets. “It’s just work. Nothing fancy.”

“Nothing fancy?” you repeated, a small laugh escaping as you gestured toward the elegant decor. “Carmy, this place is gorgeous. You’re way too modest.”

"Thanks," His lips twitched into a faint smile, but his eyes lingered on you, searching before he added, “You didn’t look like you were having a great time out there.”

You blinked at the sudden change in topic, your surprise melting into something closer to embarrassment.

“Oh,” you said, glancing toward the dining room before meeting his gaze again. “Yeah, it’s... it’s a date.”

Carmy’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, though his expression didn’t waver.

“Figured,” he muttered, his voice steady but low.

“Not a great one,” you admitted, your lips quirking into a dry smile. “Blind date, courtesy of Ava. It’s... fine, I guess. He’s just... not my type.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What’s your type, then?”

The question caught you off guard, your breath hitching slightly as his words hung in the air. You laughed softly, deflecting. “I don’t know. Someone who doesn’t treat teaching like it’s a hobby or call it a job anyone can do.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk, and he shook his head in disbelief. “He did not say that.”

You groaned dramatically, closing your eyes as if the memory physically pained you. “Oh, but he did. Word for word, and I quote: ‘Teaching is important, I guess. But it’s gotta be, like… easy, right? Summers off, finger painting, all that?’ And then—then!—he laughed. Like he’d just unlocked the secret to stand-up comedy.”

Carmy blinked, his smirk fading into something closer to incredulity. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” you said, sighing dramatically. “You’d think he was trying out his Type Five for open mic night. And the pièce de résistance? He throws in the classic ‘no offense.’ Like that’s a verbal Ctrl+Z or something.”

That earned a real laugh from Carmy this time, his shoulders shaking slightly as he shook his head. “What the hell? So, this is what you’re dealing with?”

“Oh, but I’m thriving,” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm waving your hand dismissively. “Peak romantic energy. Nothing like being told my career is a glorified arts-and-crafts workshop to really get the sparks flying.”

Carmy leaned slightly against the wall, crossing his arms as he listened. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—irritation, maybe, or quiet disbelief. “And you’re still out there?”

“Excellent question, Chef Carmy,” you said, pointing at him with mock gravity. “I think it’s a mix of morbid curiosity, sheer stubbornness, and maybe a touch of guilt. I mean, he did spring for the wine. Even if he did refer to it as a ‘top-shelf pour.’”

That made Carmy snort, his head dropping slightly as he tried to compose himself. “Top-shelf pour, huh? Sounds like a real charmer.”

You laughed softly, though there was a bite of bitterness in it. “Oh, totally. It’s been a real dream date. Honestly, if he makes one more crack about teaching being ‘easy,’ I might just—” You mimed strangling someone, your hands curling dramatically as you added a mock growl for effect.

Carmy chuckled, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you shot back, your grin sharpening. “It might get me out of this date, but I’m pretty sure assault charges aren’t a great look for me.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point.”

Your playful energy dimmed slightly as you glanced toward the dining room. “Anyway, I should probably get back out there before he starts mansplaining the wine list to the waitress. Again.”

Carmy’s lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh, but instead, he straightened up quickly, the weight of his role as head chef settling back onto his shoulders. “Yeah, I should... head back to the kitchen too. Got a lot to wrap up tonight.”

You turned back to him, your expression softening. “Thanks, by the way,” you said, holding his gaze. “For... checking in, I guess. You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged a gesture that looked casual but felt like it carried more weight. His voice dropped slightly as he replied, “Yeah, I did.”

The words hung there for a beat, his meaning lingering just beneath the surface as the two of you locked eyes. The air between you felt heavy, almost tangible, like a thread being pulled taut. You wanted to say something—anything. Maybe a joke to break the tension, or maybe the truth: that you liked him, that you wished it was him sitting across from you tonight, making you laugh instead of testing your patience.

Unbeknownst to you, Carmy’s thoughts ran dangerously close to yours. He’d been replaying every interaction with you since the day you moved in next door, every laugh, every casual smile. The thought of you with someone else—someone who didn’t seem to notice the little things about you the way he did—made his chest tighten in ways he couldn’t explain.

But before either of you could give voice to the thoughts swirling in your heads, the faint sound of your date’s voice carried through the hallway, breaking the moment like a needle scratching across a record. You winced slightly, the weight of reality pulling you back.

“Ugh. That’s my cue,” you said, shooting Carmy an exaggerated grimace. “Duty calls.”

Carmy nodded, his expression carefully neutral, though the flicker in his eyes betrayed the emotions he was trying to keep in check. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks,” you said with a wry grin. “I’ll need it.”

Despite his words, his gaze lingered on yours, as if searching for something unspoken. For a moment, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d say something more, but instead, he stepped back, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“See you around,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, your heart squeezing as you turned to head back toward the dining room. “See you around.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were leaving something unfinished behind. And Carmy, watching you go, felt much the same, his hands flexing at his sides as he fought the urge to call after you.

When he finally turned back toward the kitchen, his jaw tightened, the moment still playing over in his mind. He rubbed the back of his neck, willing himself to focus as he pushed open the swinging door. The familiar clatter and hum of the kitchen greeted him, but it did little to drown out the thoughts circling his head.

He barely made it three steps before Richie appeared, leaning casually against the counter with his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Richie drawled, crossing his arms. “What’s the matter, Cousin? Lose track of time out there? Or were you too busy making googly eyes at the customer? Can't blame you thought, she's gorgeous.”

Carmy’s jaw ticked, his shoulders stiffening. “Shut up, Richie.”

--------

Your date’s voice droned on, a monotonous background noise to your growing sense of regret. Why had you agreed to this? Why hadn’t you just stayed home with a glass of wine and a good book?

Just as you were contemplating an excuse to leave—feigning a sudden headache, maybe, or an urgent call from a friend—a waiter approached your table. It wasn’t the same one who had been serving you throughout the evening, but an older guy with an easy smile and a glimmering of mischief in his eyes carrying a small plate in hand. The plate held an assortment of beautifully arranged pastries, each one delicate and intricate, like a tiny work of art.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you said, your brow furrowing as you looked up at him.

“It’s from the chef,” the waiter replied, his tone polite but with a glimmer of something knowing in his eyes.

Your eyes widened slightly, your breath catching as you glanced instinctively toward the kitchen pass. Sure enough, Carmy was there, leaning slightly against the counter, his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his gaze was fixed squarely on you.

Your heart gave a little jolt, heat creeping up your neck as you turned back to the table.

Your date, meanwhile, was entirely oblivious to the silent exchange. He grinned widely, puffing out his chest a little as he gestured to the plate. “See? Told you this place was top-notch. They must’ve recognized me. Perks of being a regular.”

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing. Instead, you bit back your amusement, your lips twitching into a barely restrained smile as you reached for one of the pastries.

“Right,” you said lightly, turning the pastry over in your hand. “Must be your VIP status.”

As you took a bite, the pastry practically melted in your mouth, a perfect blend of buttery richness and delicate sweetness. It was so good it almost made you forget the company you were keeping—almost.

“You know, this kind of attention doesn’t happen just anywhere. It’s all about knowing the right people.”

“Mmm,” you murmured, taking a bite of one of the delicate confections. It melted in your mouth, rich and buttery, with just the right amount of sweetness.

When you glanced back toward the pass, Carmy was already gone, disappearing back into the kitchen as seamlessly as he’d appeared. But his gesture lingered, wrapping around you like a quiet reassurance, a small thread of comfort in an otherwise unbearable evening.

And for the first time that night, your smile wasn’t forced.

A/N: Heyyy I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to all those people who comment, like and reblog. Like fr you all make my week. Always looking for some ideas so please feel free to ask.

Also, please tell me if you want to be tagged. Be safe out there, please the world is too crazy at the moment. <3

Tags:

@hiitsmebbygrl16 @urthem00n @svzwriting29 @tyferbebe

@akornsworld @khxna @ruthyalva96 @beingalive1

@darkestbeforethedawn16 @turtle-cant-communicate spideybv28 veryberryjelly @daisy-the-quake

[kaidasdesires]

“Your Eyes Only.” : Sunghoon

☾ grouping: Sunghoon x afab reader

☾ rating: 18+, explicit content

☾ wc: 8.9k

☾ content warnings: blood, light blood play, biting, hickies, oral fixation, explicit sex, oral sex giving and receiving, riding, y/n on top, lots of making out, fainting, yelling, jungwon gets angry, ni-ki subplot, jungwon subplot

☾ summary: Y/n feels bad that Sunghoon is at the dance studio by himself and brings him dinner. Sunghoon shows her the choreography he’s working on and can’t stop thinking about what she might taste like.

Or, Sunghoon is a vampire and shows y/n what it feels like to be bitten and how good his mouth is in more ways than one.

☾ author note: This story is fiction and does not reflect the personalities or desires of those it is written about. This story has some scenes that may be uncomfortable for some readers, read at your own discretion. This is chapter two in this series, please see my masterlist for other chapters!

☾ taglist: @who-tf-soddhi, @imnotyizhuo , @deobitifull , @ochaluver , @jakeswifez , @helenngxz , @enhalusional , @d-dilemma , @heerinnie , @qeeun-didi , @capri-cuntz , @strxwbloody , @jungwonloverr , @b3tt7boop , @zara2318 , @simbabyj , @gnvi-eve , @babygirlskz98 , @nshmrarki , @50-husbands , @peonywon , @moonpri , @binneulton , @leeheeso , @roslayy , @tunafishyfishylike , @fancypeacepersona , @irenic-max , @jiryunn , @sidecharacters , @somuchdard , @skzenhalove , @missychief1404 , @aespaqq , @strawbrrycuteblog , @ritahyelee , @reading-wh0re , @hjjssjnen7 , comment below to be added! <3

bzz bzz bzz. 

The insistent buzzing of your phone jolted you awake, its vibrations starkly contrasting to the peaceful slumber you'd been enjoying. Groaning, you blindly reached for the device, your hand fumbling across the cool surface of the bedside table until your fingers closed around its smooth edges. You brought the phone to your face, squinting at the bright screen through sleep-fogged eyes. An unfamiliar number glared back at you.

Fucking spam callers. You thought and with a sigh of resignation, you let your arm fall back onto the mattress, the phone landing beside you with a soft thud. You stared up at the ceiling, the darkness punctuated only by a thin sliver of light peeking through the black-out curtains.

Hold on. Oh my god. Heeseung’s room? It all came rushing back to you like a sudden splash of cold water. Everything that had happened the night before and how you had fallen asleep in the older boy's arms. Heeseung wasn’t with you now, though. You looked around the room. He wasn’t playing on his computer either. The keys of the keyboard slowly pulsating through the colors of the rainbow. 

You pulled the covers to your face, the soft fabric brushing against your nose. You wanted to remember the cedar smell of the night before, and sure enough, his blankets carried a similar scent. The smell sent a warm shiver through your body. However, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that he wasn’t here. You had no idea when he had left, and you had no memory of him slipping out of bed while you slept.

You lay there for a while, contemplating what to do next. You picked up your phone and scrolled through your notifications, none of which included a message from Heeseung. Truth be told you were just avoiding going out into the living room. You didn’t know if you were ready for the raised eyebrows and incessant questions from the other boys. They’d be able to tell why you had stayed the night, especially considering the clothes you were currently wearing didn’t belong to you. The thought brought another small pang of loneliness that Heeseung was gone. 

But it’s not like any time would be better than now, so you begrudgingly pulled your body out of the warm bed and took an extra minute to fold the sheets back and make sure it was made for Heeseung whenever he got home. You also grabbed the now empty water glasses to take to the dishwasher. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself once more, before pulling the door open. You stood there momentarily while you listened out into the apartment. It was quiet, the only thing you heard was the sound of the dehumidifier humming in the living room.

Then you slowly walked towards the living room before peeking around the corner and to your surprise, nobody was there. 

A wave of relief washed over you at the realization that the boys might have had a schedule today and that you didn’t have to try to explain yourself right now. You took the glasses to the sink, rolling your eyes when you saw how many dishes had been stacked up. Seriously, why can’t they clean up after themselves, you thought. Since it seemed as though nobody was here you decided to do what you had already done many times before and clean up around the dorm. 

You couldn’t help it as your mind wandered to last night as you rinsed the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. You couldn’t help the thought’s of Heeseung’s soothing voice and the way he took you on the couch. You couldn’t help it when your mind wandered to the other boys, one by one as dirty scenarios and “what ifs” came tumbling over and over through your thoughts. This became especially prominent as you wandered through the dorm, picking up discarded clothes and throwing them into the hamper to be washed. Each boy's individual colognes sends new pulses of warmth and curiosity through you. Your mind was so active with these thoughts that time flew as you did other chores for them like sweeping and vacuuming the rugs. Eventually needing a break, you flopped onto the couch, laying back and resting for a minute. 

Apparently, you were still a bit tired; you knew it had been longer than you anticipated when you were woken up by the sound of not-so-quiet whispering. If that’s what you would really call it at this point. 

“She stayed the night?” you heard Jake from nearby. 

“What’s it to you?” A defensive response from Heeseung. 

“Everyone shut up and leave her be! She cleaned up after your nasty asses so just let it go.” Jay spoke from above you, scolding the other guys for their bickering. 

You felt your face heating up, the sudden attention on you a bit flustering. You decided to continue to lay there for a minute with your eyes closed, hoping that they would go away. Maybe they would go into their rooms and you could sneak out the door without them seeing you.  Out of the blue, a hand grazes across your forehead, pushing your tousled hair out of your face. You opened your eyes slowly expecting to see Jay or Heeseung. But instead, you were met by your best friend's gentle eyes. Nevermind about sneaking out.

“Won?” You said quietly, admiring the boy's deep brown eyes as he looked back at you. 

“Hi.” He responded with a slight smile. “You fell asleep here?” 

You sat up, scratching your head in embarrassment. “Heh, yeah, I guess so. I didn’t mean to.” You chuckled, embarrassment flushing your skin. 

Jungwon just nodded. “It’s okay, nobody minds! Are you feeling okay though? Oh, and you really don’t have to clean up after us, you know.” 

“I know.” You smiled back at him, “I don’t mind it. It makes me feel better knowing that you all are taken care of.” You never wanted the boys to take on any more stress than they were already dealing with. And you knew a clean home would help even if they didn’t want to admit it. 

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes made it obvious that he was thinking about something. The slight furrow to his brow is an easy giveaway. 

“Well, you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and hang out if you want.” He said after a minute, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

“Oh? What are you guys having?” You asked, looking over to see if the head chef, Jay, was standing in the kitchen or not. He was, but he was just sitting at the table playing on his phone.

Jungwon chuckled uncomfortably as he rocked back on his heels, his hands still shoved into his pockets. “Uh, I don’t know yet.” 

You snorted and shook your head. They really wouldn’t make it without me huh? 

“Jay, do I need to go to the convenience store for anything?” You called out, turning at the waist and peeking over the back of the couch. 

Jay smiled and looked up from his phone to you. He thought for a moment before answering. “Yeah actually. I need some more vegetables. Coming with me?” 

You nodded, standing up from the couch. You definitely needed some fresh air after your mid-day nap. 

You quickly grabbed your cardigan and put on your shoes along with Jay before he followed you out the door. 

“Hey. Don’t forget.” He called out behind you, a mask in hand.

“Oh, thanks.” You responded, taking the black mask from him and looping the hoops over your ears. 

Jay put his mask on too, and pulled his hood over his head before leading the way to the store that you had stopped at last night to get snacks for Heeseung. 

The walk was quiet. Jay wasn’t much of a talker when it was just the two of you, but his presence was safe and comfortable. You could tell that he kept peeking behind his shoulder to make sure you were still caught up with him. You knew that if you needed something Jay would be there without question. You have always felt the safest with Jay, besides Jungwon of course. 

Once you got to the store, you helped him pick the vegetables, flipping them over in your hands to look for bruising and then you grabbed some soju for the boys to enjoy as well. You would always buy it for them because if they got caught buying soju on their own it could be a bit of a scandal. 

The walk back was quiet as well except for some idle chit-chat about the weather and the schedules they’d had today. Something about recording for their upcoming album and preparing for a world tour. You hated it when they went on tour, it definitely made things a lot lonelier, especially when Jungwon was in a different time zone and couldn’t text as much. 

When you got back to the dorm you helped Jay by prepping the vegetables as he cooked the meat for dinner. The smell of it cooking slowly brought the other boys out of their rooms. When Heeseung came out you couldn’t help but blush, he looked just as good as he had the night before. He smirked when he saw how red your face got but he left it at that. 

The boys gathered around the table and you popped open a bottle of soju for them. That quickly started the sound of laughing and bickering that you loved so much. 

Once you had finished up cooking and started to plate up the food you noticed that Sunghoon was missing. You turned to Jay who was washing the dishes he had just used and putting them away into the dishwasher. At least someone knows how to clean up after themselves, you thought. 

“Where is Sunghoon?” You asked him. 

“Oh, he’s at the dance studio. He had a solo schedule today so he missed out on dance practice after recording. So he’s there now.” He replied, drying his hands and then taking two plates from you over to the table. 

You frowned, looking down at the steaming bowl of japchae that you and Jay had just cooked. You didn’t love the idea of Sunghoon having to eat packaged snacks and ramen for dinner instead of a real meal. 

You started peeking around in the cabinets until you found what you were looking for - a bento box to put some of the japchae in. You spooned out a healthy portion and closed the box before putting it into a bag that you had gotten from the store. 

“I’m going to take dinner to Sunghoon, you guys can go ahead and eat!” You spoke up, grabbing the bag and quickly heading for the door before you met any resistance. 

Surprisingly, you were met with a chorus of nods and okay’s. The food must have been good enough for the guys to not try to come with you or give you a hard time about going by yourself. But that’s not shocking considering how good of a cook Jay is. 

After once again putting on your shoes and heading out the door you pulled out your phone to check the time. It was already getting kind of late but this meant that the company building should be relatively empty so you should be able to get in with ease. 

The walk to the company building was farther than to the convenience store or your apartment but it still wasn’t too bad. You could have taken the subway and gone one stop over but it probably would have taken you a similar amount of time and you enjoyed the cool evening air anyway. The hum of the city was peaceful for you. 

When you made it to the building you slipped in through the front door with ease. The security guard gave you a friendly smile having seen you enough that he knew that you weren’t a threat. Earlier in the day, the front desk workers or other staff would have been a lot more strict, likely shooing you off or giving you an unnecessarily hard time. But the night-time security guard was always willing to turn a blind eye to your presence and you appreciated him for that. 

When you got to the dance practice rooms, all of them had their lights turned off but one. You listened for a moment to the music as it leaked into the quiet hallway. You followed the sound and the light to the room and you slowly opened the door. Surely enough, Sunghoon was in here practicing by himself. You waited by the door as you watched Sunghoon dance, letting the door quietly click closed behind you. 

The song was slow and honestly a bit sensual. You couldn’t help but watch in awe as the former figure skater danced. His movements were smooth and clean, reminiscent of his time on the ice. 

When the music stopped, Sunghoon closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. While some people may think he was frustrated you could tell he was just a bit tired. You took another step into the room before calling out to Sunghoon. 

“Hoon?” You called quietly, not wanting to startle him. 

He looked up in the mirror, a surprised look on his face when his eyes met yours in the reflection. 

“Y/n?” He said as he turned around and walked towards you, “What are you doing here?” 

He was damp with sweat, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander down his figure. He was wearing sweatpants and a tank top which was not something you often saw him wearing. He tended to be a bit more prude whenever you were in the house. His slender waist and toned arms were enunciated by the way his clothes stuck to him slightly and the shimmer of moisture on his skin. He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t respond right away, accidentally distracted by his looks. 

“Oh! I brought you dinner. We made japchae and I didn’t want you to be eating prepackaged snacks or ramen when we had good food at the dorm.” You explained, lifting the bag in your hand. 

Sunghoon smiled, his eyes turning into tiny crescents. “You didn’t have to y/n. But thank you.” 

“Of course!” You responded, leading the way over to the other side of the room as Sunghoon trailed behind you. There was a couch but you sat on the floor so that way you wouldn’t have to hold the bento box and could both just sit comfortably and eat with the floor as your table. 

“Are you staying to eat with me?” He asked as you sat down on the floor. 

“Is that okay? I packed enough for the two of us but if you’re really hungry I can just eat back at the dorm.” You replied as he sat down beside you. 

“No, please stay. I’d love your company.” Sunghoon smiled, his pointy canines greeting you. 

You pulled out the bento box, and to your surprise, there was still a bottle of soju in the bag. You swore you didn’t put that in there. 

Sunghoon's eyebrows quirked up in curiosity at the soju bottle. “Hmm.. trying to relive that night?” He said suddenly, his voice teasing. 

You felt your ears heat up at his question. What is he trying to insinuate? 

“I— I just, I think one of the boys put this in here.” You said, turning the bottle over a few times in your hand and dodging his question. Sunghoon took the bottle from you and took a peek at the flavor. 

“Strawberry.” He stated, twisting the cap open. “Wonder what it tastes like.” 

Sunghoon mumbled the second part and this confused you. Obviously the drink would taste like strawberry. Why would he ask something like that? It’s not like he’s never had strawberry flavored stuff before. 

You shook your head, brushing the thoughts away and dumbing it down to maybe you just misheard him. 

He took a drink of the soju, not even grimacing at the alcoholic aftertaste before he passed it over to you. He motioned for you to drink some too, before moving to open up the bento box and start eating. You hesitated, knowing that this was somewhat of an indirect kiss with him. Obviously you know this isn’t a big deal and a little bit silly to get flustered about, but you couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to actually kiss Sunghoon because of it. 

You took a drink of the soju too, the alcohol sending a slight burn down the back of your throat. It was good, sweet, and very easy to get down. 

“It’s sweet!” You said out loud, setting the bottle down in between the two of you. Sunghoon nodded in between bites and handed you a pair of chopsticks from the bag. You took them from him and quickly dug into the food in front of you. All that cleaning and cooking had worked up quite an appetite. 

“I bet you’re sweet too.” He said quietly, the look in his eyes unreadable, before he took another bite. 

You almost choked on your food, unable to interpret the meaning of his statement. You didn’t want to assume anything. He probably just meant my personality right? 

You didn’t know what to say back, so instead you both sat in a comfortable silence while you ate. Well, comfortable except for not being able to concentrate on anything except what Sunghoon had said and how good he looks right now. 

After a little bit, the soju was working its magic and easily heating up your system. It wasn’t too much, you were still perfectly in your right mind, it just helped relieve any awkwardness you might be feeling with the two of you being alone. Sunghoon’s cheeks were ever so slightly pink, but you weren't sure if it was from the soju or just from him having been dancing and hot. 

When you were both done eating, Sunghoon cleaned up the mess and threw it away in the trash can by the door. 

“There’s still like two more shots in here.” He said, motioning to the soju bottle that still sat on the floor as he came back from the trash can. 

“Let’s share then!” You replied, giving him a cute grin. Sunghoon looked at the bottle for a second, then back at you and you watched as a smirk appeared on his face. 

“Okay.” He said as he took one more sip from the bottle and then handed it to you. 

He watched you intently as you drank the last of the alcohol from the bottle. The way his eyes seemed to drink in the sight of you instead caused a slow tingle up your spine. 

When you put the bottle back down, Sunghoon was still staring at you and for a moment you couldn’t help but stare back. Time seemed to slow down as you admired his features. The way a few strands of black hair had fallen down onto his forehead brushing against his long eyelashes. The small constellation of moles on his cheek and the side of his nose, and the way his thick, well-defined eyebrows and chiseled jawline made him look so intense, in a good way of course.

“Sunghoon?” You asked quietly, his stare intimidating you a bit. “Is everything—,” Your question was abruptly cut off, swallowed by a surprised whimper when, as quick as lightning, Sunghoon was level with you and his lips were on yours. 

After a second, his lips parted from yours, and he pulled back slightly to gaze at your flushed face. The playful smirk remained etched on his features as he leaned in for another kiss.

He crawled forward, pushing your back into the bottom of the couch, causing you to fall back on your palms. 

Heat crept up your neck, staining your cheeks a deep crimson. It was almost as if he had plucked the desire to kiss him directly from your thoughts, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

His hand reached up, tangled into the soft strands of your hair, and tugged causing you to gasp. Sunghoon took this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

His sudden boldness caught you so off guard you couldn’t help but whine again, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You kissed him back, desire quickly sparking across your skin. 

But just as quickly as things had started, Sunghoon pulled away, leaving you a tiny bit desperate for more. You watched, a pang of disappointment washing over you as he leaned back, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His smirk was now replaced by a look of smug satisfaction as if he knew the effect he had on you and reveled in it. 

“I told you, I wondered what it tastes like.” He replied nonchalantly before standing up. You looked up at him, your mouth slightly agape, still frozen in shock with your back up against the couch. 

“I’m going to do one more run-through of the song, you can watch and tell me what you think.” He said as he walked away from you and towards the speaker system across the room. 

What the fuck was that. You thought as you slowly picked yourself up off the ground and flopped onto the couch.

He meant, my lips? He wondered what my lips tasted like???? 

Your mind was racing, and your skin was hot. And a tiny part of you sulked, wondering why he had just stopped there and not kept going. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the countdown before the song began, and you leaned back into the couch willing yourself to pay attention and focus instead of getting caught up on what had just happened. 

You watched Sunghoon in awe as he performed the song for you. At first, he just seemed to be in his own world, not focusing on anything but the dance. 

Brighter than the sun

That's just me

Monster, even if you call me

I don't even care

You begin to notice the lyrics of the song, and how for a moment when Sunghoon’s eyes catch yours in the mirror he looks a bit sad. You wonder why this song makes him seem like he’s thinking so much. There’s a short pause in the song before suddenly Sunghoon turns around and he faces you as he continues to dance. 

Dance for me forever

Look at me in the broken mirror

And tune it with the feet

This beautiful moment I don't stop

Woah, again, chaconne now

You were sure this wasn’t part of the choreography, especially with the way he was now staring you down. His eyes traveled up and down your body as you were sitting on the couch. 

His eyes?! 

Your breath hitched as you noticed Sunghoon's eyes, their usual dark brown replaced by a chilling crimson. The vibrant red held you captive, a mesmerizing shade of burgundy that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly intensity. Despite the unsettling change in his eyes, the rest of Sunghoon's features remained unchanged. 

The melody of the song continued, weaving its way around you both. Each note resonated with the tension in the room, the rhythm mirroring the quickened pace of your own breathing. Fear mingled with curiosity, a potent cocktail of emotions that left you both frozen and fascinated.

Dance for mе, like you're drunk and fascinated by mе

I just wanna dance on, can't stop it

This is my world in the dark

Woah, again, chaconne now

The room suddenly spun around you as Sunghoon's strong arms lifted you effortlessly, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. In the blink of an eye, your back met the cool surface of the mirror. Sunghoon's body was a warm, solid presence against yours, caging you in gently but firmly. His breath ghosted across your ear, sending a tingle across the skin. 

The music thrummed through the air, a sensual backdrop to the moment's intimacy. The beat seemed to echo the rapid rhythm of your heart, pounding in your chest as Sunghoon's proximity ignited a fire within you. His closeness was intoxicating, the scent of his cologne mingling with the warmth of his skin, making you dizzy with desire. 

“Honestly Y/n… your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like.” He whispered. 

“I– Sunghoon..,” was all you could manage before he started to kiss along your jawbone and down your neck. His kisses were soft, followed by a quick press of his teeth to your skin before he let out a low groan of desperation. He pulled back to look at you once more. 

“Am I overstepping?” He asked, a bit of worry in his crimson eyes. His jaw clenched as if he was holding back from devouring you all at once. 

“N-no. You’re not. I'm just surprised. I mean, I guess I'm not that surprised since Jungwon told me you all liked me but still.” You responded, placing a reassuring hand on his chest. 

“I'm surprised too, but more so that you haven’t figured out what I am yet.” He said, planting another quick kiss on your neck before leaning back again to look at you. “And, I think it’s important that you know before we continue.” 

You were quiet for a moment, all you felt like you had to go on was that he was particularly fast and his eyes were red. 

“I’m not sure.” You replied, a little embarrassed as you tried to flip through your memories of him but nothing stood out. 

Sunghoon gripped your waist and flipped you around pressing you forward into the mirror. You braced your hands against it, letting out a noise of surprise as the cool surface touched your chest. 

His body was flush against you and your mind raced back and forth between his beautiful red eyes and the way they seemed to hold you captive and the way you could feel he was turned on against you. 

“Let’s think about it shall we?” He said, breath hot against your neck and ear. “I’m faster than the average person, and my eyes are red. When’s the last time you’ve seen me outside in a short-sleeved t-shirt?” 

You quickly dug through this information trying to piece it together before realization hit you like a truck. 

Vampire?!

You looked up only to see him smiling in the mirror, his sharp canines making another appearance. 

Of course. His cute little fangs! How did I not guess sooner? 

“You’re a vampire?” You whispered, a bit surprised, a chill washing over you. 

“Good job princess,” Sunghoon replied, placing another kiss against your neck, your pulse seeming to draw him in. 

The pet name sends a shock wave directly to your abdomen. 

“So, what do you say?” Sunghoon asks with a smirk, his voice laced with need. “Will you let me taste you?” 

Your mind is fogged by lust, making it hard to process exactly what he’s saying. You don’t know much about vampires besides what movies and books have written. How do you know what is true? If he bites you will you turn into a vampire? Will he be able to stop? But again, Jungwon promised none of them would ever hurt you and you really just wanted to feel his lips on yours again. Logic and desire raged war in your mind, but ultimately you decided to trust your best friend's word and let your body lead. 

“Y-yes.” you answer him, your voice quiet, “Please.” 

Sunghoon groans again, hearing you say please. “It will only hurt for a second.” He whispers before reaching around you, grabbing your chin, and tilting your neck to one side to give him better access. 

Your heart starts to pound against your chest, adrenaline soaring through your veins. Your brain is like an alarm system as it warns you of danger yet your feet are traderious against it and keep you firmly planted in place. Fight or flight begs you to run but yet curiosity wins out. 

Sunghoon places one last kiss against your neck and wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He looks into your eyes in the reflection and bares his teeth against your skin. The sight is incredibly arousing. Then he slowly bites down into the sensitive skin of your neck. You clench your fists and let out a pained whimper as his sharp canines tear through your skin. He squeezes you tight as if you reassure you as he pushes his teeth down. It does hurt, and for a moment you feel dizzy and lightheaded before the pain gives way to pleasure. You can feel Sunghoon sucking against your skin, his eyes closed as he indulges himself. You can’t help but moan as the feeling becomes hot and sends pulsing heat through your body straight to your core. You can feel Sunghoon smile as he continues to suck at your skin. He knows all too well what the effect of his bite is having on your body. You tremble in his tight grip as he drinks, a mix of the adrenaline and overwhelming desire setting your nerves alight. After another moment, he pulls away, you watch him in awe as blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. A thin line of blood seeps from the open wound on your neck. You only worry about that for a second before Sunghoon flips you back around. 

“Taste it.” He urges before abruptly kissing you again. His tongue finds its way into your mouth with ease. You tense up expecting to be grossed out by the coppery metal taste, but instead, you are surprised by a sweet aftertaste. Your blood tastes so good that you wonder briefly if drinking someone else's blood is even better. 

“I knew it would be sweet,” He purrs pressing his forehead against yours, seemingly overcome with ecstasy from drinking your blood. 

You lick your own lips, getting the last of the blood taste off of them. Then you reach your arms around the taller boy's neck, pulling him back down into a heated kiss. Sunghoon gives you control and allows you to lick into his mouth, your tongues clashing but not in a fight for dominance, but simply because neither of you can get enough of each other. 

You find yourself chasing after the sweet taste in his mouth, your mind hazing over with lust and desire. Sunghoon reaches behind your legs, lifting you before walking you over to the couch and setting you down, but your lips never leave one another. 

Sunghoon places a knee between your legs as he leans over you, your mouths still attached in a fury of kisses. You feel him shift to pull your cardigan from your shoulders, exposing your skin to the cool air of the dance studio. You unwrap your arms from his neck to let the cardigan fall off you and Sunghoon pulls it from behind you to place it to the side. 

“You know Princess,” Sunghoon says between kisses, “I could always get you off, right here, right now.” 

You can’t help but whine, the idea of him pleasuring you going straight to your core. You pull away from him and he can see the concern in your eyes. 

“But, the door. What if we get caught?” You reply, despite your overwhelming desire to have him, you don’t want to risk getting him in trouble. 

He just chuckles in response, disappearing only for a second to lock the door. 

Since when do these doors even have locks? 

Then in a matter of seconds, he’s by his phone and the speakers, putting the song on repeat before he’s right back in front of you. 

“There. Nobody can come in now, but they wouldn’t anyway with the music and lights on.” He gives you a reassuring smile. 

Sunghoon kisses your head before he moved down to kneel in front of you. 

“What are you–,” you start to say, trying to close your legs out of habit, but he places a firm hand on your thighs keeping them from closing. 

“I can't wait any longer,” He says before you can finish, “Let me taste more of you.” 

His fingers are sneaking their way up your thighs to the waistband of your leggings. You look down at Sunghoon and you can't help but blush at the way he’s looking at you with a feverish desperation to please. 

You lift your hips from the couch, allowing his slender fingers to pull your leggings down and he helps you out of them. Then he leans up and pulls your legs forward to the edge of the couch. You watch as he licks his lips and leans in to kiss along the inside of your thighs. You spread them apart for him, the alcohol in your system helping you push past the barrier of shyness. He moves up your legs slowly leaving hot kisses in his wake before he looks up at you through thick eyelashes and kisses against your panties. 

You moan, the image in front of you is erotic and only helps fuel your desire to let him please you. He licks against the fabric, causing a shock to race through your body. 

God, fuck. 

Your mind is racing with need, still high from being bitten by him. He kisses and licks a few times through the damp fabric before he slowly slips it to the side. He looks up at you once again giving you the chance to change your mind, before he leans in and licks a stripe from your heat all the way to your clit. 

You gasp, reaching to thread your fingers into his hair. He lets out a noise of contentment as your fingers tug gently against his scalp. Then he is circling his tongue around your clit, pulling whines and whimpers from your mouth with expertise. His hands come up to pull you closer by the back of your hips and you lift your legs to put them over his shoulders giving him better access to you. 

“Sunghoon, fuck,” you moan, as his tongue slides up and down your heat, and it seems like he's never had a meal in his life even though you just had dinner together. 

He continues to eat you out, tongue working like you’ve never felt before as he teases you closer and closer to coming undone. After a few minutes of this, one of his hands releases from behind you and you feel his fingers dragging up and down your slick as he sucks on your clit. He easily slides two fingers into you, and you drop your head back with a moan as his slender fingers pump slowly inside you. You can feel him smirk as he quickens the pace of his fingers before curling them against your walls. He quickly finds the spot he was searching for and his fingers work against it. 

“Oh– Hoon,” is all you can manage to get out as he begins to relentlessly hit that spot over and over again, his tongue still working slow circles on your clit. You can feel your abdomen tightening and you know you won't be able to last long like this. The feeling is overwhelming with the inclusion of his fingers. 

“I’m close…” you whisper out, a little bit embarrassed by how quickly he is going to get you to cum. Sunghoon only responds by speeding up his tongue. Your body begins to tremble as your release quickly approaches and you fist your fingers into his hair and push him deeper against you. He lets out a noise that sounds almost like a growl against your skin and the vibration sends you over the edge. 

You cum hard, your whole body shaking against Sunghoon’s mouth and fingers as he pushes you through your orgasm. You bite your lip to keep quiet despite the music being relatively loud.

After a minute, Sunghoon finally pulls away from you, his hair now messy. You watch him as he licks his lips and then wipes his mouth off on his arm.

“As I expected,” he muses, “you taste just as sweet here too.” 

“Stop it,” you whine, pushing his shoulder. His words make you shy. 

As you come down from your high, Sunghoon stands up and you can’t help but notice his length straining against his pants. This image sends another shock of lust and desire through your body. 

You slide off the couch onto your knees in front of him and you wrap your fingers around his waistband. 

“Let me help you with this.” You say, looking up at him with big eyes. 

“Whatever you want Princess.” He replies with a smile, reaching down to brush your hair back from your face. 

Honestly, you just want him to fuck you. But it's only fair to return the favor considering the way he just made you see stars the way no one else has before.

You pull the waistband of his pants and his boxers down in one swift movement and his cock springs free, slapping against the skin of his stomach. He grimaces at the sudden cold air against his skin. 

Sunghoon’s cock is slender but decent in length with a pretty pink tip. It’s truthfully as beautiful as he is. You can’t help but admire him. 

You grab his length gently before licking the tip and then quickly taking it into your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Sunghoon curses above you as he jolts unexpectedly into you causing you to almost gag. You don’t tease him knowing that he's already been waiting long enough for some attention and you slowly bob your mouth up and down his length. 

Sunghoon rests a hand in your hair as you take him in and out of your mouth. You use your hands to cover what you can’t reach with your mouth. 

“You’re so pretty like this.” Sunghoon praises you from above. His red eyes watch you closely as you sink down on his length. You whine around his cock at the praise and you sink further down. 

Sunghoon groans above you, his fingering tightening in your hair as he shallowly starts to thrust into your mouth. 

You look up at him as he does this, tears brimming your eyes as he thrusts further and further into your mouth. He continues like this for a minute, slowly fucking your mouth with his hand fisted in your hair before he pulls himself out of your mouth. 

“Come here.” He demands, turning around and pulls off his bottoms and his tank top before sitting on the couch. 

You can’t help but stare at Sunghoon now sitting naked in front of you, his hard length leaking precum as he pumps it a few times with one hand. 

This feels a bit unfair. You think, considering the fact that you still have your tank top and panties on. So you decide to slowly pull off your tank top, teasing Sunghoon with a little show. 

“Mmmm… princess.” Sunghoon coos, admiring your figure as you pull the tank top off of your breasts and over your head. You blush at the tone of his voice and the way his hungry eyes watch you carefully. Then you step out of your panties, letting him see you fully before approaching him. 

He reaches a hand out to you and when you take it he pulls you down into his lap, his other hand coming over to grasp the back of your neck and lead into another feverish make out session. 

His cock slides against your heat as you’re sitting in his lap, legs straddling him. 

Sunghoon breaks away from kissing your lips to kiss down your collarbones and towards your breasts. He starts to suck pretty bruises into your skin along that same path. 

“Hoon—,” you whine, the hickeys hurting and bringing small sparks of pleasure at the same time. “Want you.” 

“Take what you want then princess,” he purrs, “I’m all yours.”

His words overwhelm you, the implication of them too much to process when you’re consumed by lust. You wanted nothing more than for him to be inside you. 

You lean back a bit, reaching between your bodies to grasp his length. You lift yourself before slowly sinking down onto his cock. Your mouth falls open in a quiet moan as you let his cock fill you up. 

Sunghoon grasps your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin tightly as he feels your warmth surrounding his length. 

“Fuck—,” he curses, his eyes seemingly darker and hungry. 

His cock slides in and out of you easily, already wet from spit and your cum as you slowly lift up and down on his length. You brace yourself on his shoulders as you pick up your pace and Sunghoon supports you by holding tightly onto your hips. 

“Such a good girl,” He praises as you fuck yourself on his cock. “I didn’t know you wanted me this badly.” 

“Want.. all of you,” you reply, the second part a bit quieter. 

“Mmm, I know princess, and we all want you too.” He responds, leaning down to kiss your neck again, his tongue licking against where he had bitten you earlier. 

You moan, the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive spot causes a tightening in your stomach. You pick up your pace, riding his cock as quickly as your body would allow. 

This continues for a few minutes before Sunghoon suddenly tilts over and lays back on the couch like you would on a bed. The couch is cramped but big enough for you to have space for both knees on either side of him. You’re still straddling him but this position allows you to lean forward over him, so you do. You start to kiss his neck, leading Sunghoon to moan back into your ear. Who knew his neck was just as sensitive as yours? 

Sunghoon reaches back and grabs your ass, pushing you forward against him before he takes over and starts fucking into you. 

The feeling is incredible, the pace so much faster and harder since Sunghoon has taken control. Your legs shake at the pleasure, his cock perfectly hitting that sensitive spot again and again. 

“I’m going to make you cum so hard princess,” He pants out between breaths, his breath hot against your ear. 

“Please, please,” you whine, every thrust heating your body. The desire to come undone again taking over you. 

You feel Sunghoon’s teeth against your skin again, right where he had bitten you before. Hesitation only crosses your mind for a moment. You know how good it will feel after the pain is gone. Surely enough, Sunghoon’s teeth bare down into your skin once more. 

You cry out in pain, it hurts more this time since the place is already sensitive from the first time, but when Sunghoon starts to suck on the open wound the pain is quickly overridden by pure ecstasy. Sunghoon’s pace quickens and you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure that the world seems to spin around you. 

“Hoon, please–,” you gasp, his thrusts bringing moan after moan out of you. He doesn't respond, he’s too busy indulging himself, but you know he’s encouraging you by the way he maintains a quick and harsh pace. You’ve never cum without clitoral stimulation, but you’re about to from his bite and him hitting your gspot over and over again. 

You cry out when you tip over the edge, and Sunghoon sucks extra hard against his bite. Your body shakes and you’re cumming so hard that your vision starts to darken at the edges. Sunghoon fucks you through it, his thrusts becoming unsteady as you tighten around him. He groans, a string of praises coming from his mouth against your ear as he chases his orgasm. He pulls out when he cums, shooting white strings against your ass.

You nuzzle against his face, and he pets the back of your head. 

“Good girl princess,” he praises you, kissing you over and over again. You smile, a safe warmth taking over your body. Your eyes get heavy, and you feel lightheaded. 

“What do you mean she passed out Sunghoon?” you heard Jay’s voice. 

“I may have gotten a little carried away,” Sunghoon responded sheepishly. 

“You bit her?!” Jay asked, his voice raised. 

“Shh! Keep it down.” Sunghoon replied, his voice sharp. 

You started to wake up feeling a bit weak and disoriented. You felt your body being placed down on what you can only assume was the same couch you had fallen asleep on earlier. 

“She’ll be fine,” Sunghoon spoke up again. “I promise I took good care of her.” 

“If Jungwon finds out about this, you’re so dead Sunghoon,” Jay replied and you could hear him pacing around the room in front of you. 

You slowly open your eyes, and you can see Sunghoon standing above you, his arms crossed and Jay still pacing his fingers running through his hair. The latter seemed stressed about the circumstances. But you were fine, just tired. 

“Jay? Hoon?” you called out quietly. “I’m okay.” 

Jay turned around quickly and rushed over to you, kneeling beside the couch. 

“Thank god,” Jay replied, placing a hand on your forehead to see if you were too warm. “You should stay the night here y/n. You’re too weak to go home, it wouldn’t be safe.” 

You nodded in response, too tired to go home anyway. You looked at Sunghoon who was looking down at you smiling sweetly and you couldn’t help but smile back. He had made you feel so incredibly good. 

“What is going on?” you hear from across the room. It was Jungwon. You hear Jay curse above you, but it is so quiet that you’re confident that you were the only one who heard him. 

“Oh Jungwon,” Sunghoon replied, “Y/n wasn’t feeling well after eating so she’s going to stay the night here.” 

You didn’t understand why exactly Sunghoon was lying, but you didn’t have enough energy to speak up about it. 

Jay stood up as Jungwon came over, when he appeared in your view you smiled at him. He looked concerned, worried even. But as he looked over you, you watched as his eyes flicked to anger. 

“Get out.” He said suddenly, his eye contact never breaking from you. 

“Jungwon it’s fine, she’s—,” Jay spoke up, stepping forward, trying to reassure the younger boy. 

“I said GET OUT.” Jungwon interrupted him, voice tense and loud, and the lights in the room flickered. 

Jay cursed again and grabbed Sunghoon by the arm dragging him out of the room. 

The energy in the room was thick and you began to shiver a bit, suddenly a bit cold. 

Jungwon kneeled beside you, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked over you. His eyes caught on what you thought was your chest, but when you looked down you saw a stain of blood down your skin and onto your tank top. 

“Are you okay?” Jungwon spoke, his voice now tender as he continued to look over you. 

“I’m okay, Won, j-just tired and c-cold.” your voice shaking from shivering. 

Jungwon nods, his jaw clenching as he thinks. 

“I want you to sleep with me tonight,” he says suddenly. 

“Oh,” you stutter again, his request catching you off guard, “It’s okay, I’m j-just cold, I can sleep on the couch!” 

“No. I want you to sleep with me, it's… safer,” he replies, hesitating on the last part. 

“Jungwon? Y/n?” Another voice echos through the room and then suddenly Ni-ki comes into view. The younger boy looks over you and his eyebrows furrow the same way Jungwon’s did. 

Jungwon turns to the younger boy and whispers in his ear. Ni-ki nods and leans over to you. His arms easily slide up underneath you and pick you up. 

You’re shocked by the younger boy's strength but you don’t resist, still feeling disoriented and dizzy. Ni-ki takes you to the bathroom and sits you down on the countertop. 

“I’m just going to help clean you up.” He says quietly, walking over to the cabinet to get a washcloth and then running under warm water at the sink.

You can’t help but blush as the younger boy dabs the washcloth on your skin wiping away the dried blood. You’ve never been alone with Ni-ki and you’ve never been this close to him in a situation like this. He’s attractive as hell just like the rest of the boys and you find yourself admiring him up close. 

“Does it hurt?” Ni-ki interrupts your thoughts as he wipes closer to the actual bite. 

“Not really, just sore,” you respond, tilting your neck a bit to give him a better angle. 

Ni-ki stops wiping for a second and then he abruptly looks up, his dark eyes staring into yours. You feel your skin heat up at his intensity. 

“Y/n,” he starts, “Tell me if one of them ever gets too rough. Or if they hurt you…,” There’s a pause in his sentence as if he is thinking about whether or not he should be saying what he's saying before he continues, “I will protect you, y/n.” 

Ni-ki continues to wipe away the crusted blood, being incredibly gentle where Sunghoon bit you. You’re speechless at his comment, but you feel the passion behind his words so you nod. 

After a minute Jungwon comes in with some clothes of his. “Let’s get you into these okay? I’ll wash the clothes you’re wearing.” He says as he places his clothes next to you on the counter. 

“Do you need help?” Ni-ki asks, helping you down from the countertop. Your legs shake beneath you, but you hesitate, being way too shy to get undressed in front of the two younger boys. Ni-ki notices your hesitation and speaks again before you can respond.  “I’ll close my eyes, promise.” 

“I’ll wait for you in my room,” Jungwon replies, closing the door behind him and leaving you and Ni-ki alone. 

Ni-ki closes his eyes and holds out his hands for you to use him to balance. You slowly take off your dirty clothes, face warming up in shyness when you're exposed in front of the younger boy, but he keeps his eyes closed. 

You eye him carefully as you remove your panties, but he still keeps his eyes closed honoring his promise. That is until you get a little too distracted and stumble while trying to put on Jungwon’s sweatpants. 

Ni-ki moves quickly, his eyes shooting open as he catches you against his chest. You’re now face to face, his eyes staring deeply into yours as he keeps you standing upright. His hands are firmly on your waist as he keeps eye contact. Your faces are inches away, if anyone walked in they’d think you were about to kiss. 

He chuckles. “You’re cute when you’re blushing.” He releases his grip and closes his eyes again. 

You mumble out a shy thank you before pulling Jungwon’s sweatpants the rest of the way up. You give Ni-ki the okay to open his eyes and the younger boy helps you to Jungwon’s room. 

When you enter the room, Jungwon is in pajamas. He gets up and takes over for Ni-ki and helps you into his bed. 

Ni-ki smiles and says goodnight before closing the door behind him leaving you and Jungwon alone in his room. 

You sink into Jungwon’s bed, and the smell of your best friend on the sheets sends that warm comfortable feeling over you again. Jungwon lays beside you and he sighs. You look over at him and the tension is still in his jaw and eyebrows. You pull Jungwon’s arm up and roll over into his chest and you lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. 

“I’m okay, Won,” you whisper out, letting your free arm drape over his stomach. 

He relaxes underneath you, wraps his arms around you, and holds you tightly. You start to doze feeling warm and safe in your best friend's arms. 

“Don’t scare me like that again y/n,” He says quietly above you when he thinks you’ve drifted off to sleep, “I couldn’t handle it if I lost you.” 

You couldn’t understand why Jungwon was so worked up about this situation or why he was so angry at Sunghoon and Jay. Sure, you were a little sore and exhausted but otherwise you were fine. But right now you didn’t have the energy to worry about it and decided you’ll confront him about it later. 

You smile as sleep takes you captive. Today had been so good. You felt so loved and so taken care of. You couldn’t think about Sunghoon for too long otherwise you’d get worked up again so instead you let the love and compassion from your best friend fill your mind as you fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. You hoped tomorrow would be even better than today. 

☾ authors note: Thank you for reading and being so patient with me! This chapter turned out to be a bit more graphic than I originally anticipated but its still quite tame compared to the later monsters in this series! I look forward to sharing the rest with you!

Chapter One

Chapter Three (coming soon)

Chapter Directory

[sporadicallyanenthusiast]

First of all, let me just thank you for taking the time to explain all of these points! There were many contexts here I didn't know about and it helps make more sense of the story! So thank you so much ❤️

And the thing about Ancient Greek and color is really fascinating! Kudos to the people that first began translating the ancient texts, because oh boy! Hahaha @mari--lace also mentioned in the replies how it is not a consensus on Athena's eye color either. I've only ever heard about the "wine colored sea" point, but never had the thought to dig deeper and learn more. I am definitely going to change that hahaha There are so many interesting things to learn, no wonder so many scientists have been studying the topic for centuries.

I'll have to admit, our poor Menelaus really did suffer a lot, dear Gods. Since my first contact with him was through the Odyssey and some fandom posts, sometimes I forget Agamemnon was his brother. And yes, as much as he loved Odysseus, learning about your brother's death like that can't be easy to digest. And the timeline of how long he stayed shipwrecked was a little fuzzy to me, so it makes sense that after 7 years, his memory would be hazy! I see what you mean when you refer to it as a vision/dream now. I didn't know Aegisthus had them exiled either, so that definitely adds even another layer to the hell Menelaus' life was at that time! We talk so much about Odysseus' hardships, but oh my, poor Mene didn't catch a break either, I'm appalled 😰 I have yet to wrap my mind around the fact the the poems were supposed to be performed out loud as well. A lot of the narrative choices make way more sense when you remember that, it's not just a regular book. I suppose that is why some things sound jarring when you read it for the first time.

And yes! Oh my, I never thought the texts would be so expressive and so warm, you know? We tend to have this idea that people from different times were too cold and distant, but they were still human at the end of the day. Of course they'd be affectionate to the ones they loved! And to be honest, it reminds me of when I read Sherlock Holmes for the first time. It really caught me by surprise how Sherlock and Watson were described and how they talked about each other in such a loving way. I don't know when we stopped writing platonic relationships so beautifully like that, but it truly is a loss to modern literature, in my humble opinion.

And I had no idea about Odysseus' own prophecy! I did know he tried to avoid going to war, but I just assumed it was because he had a newborn son and wanted to be there for Penelope. In that scenario, it really is fair to point out Menelaus trying to warn them wouldn't change much. On that note, Athena herself also told Telemachus Odysseus was alive and he didn't believe her, the Wisdom Goddess hahaha I hadn't thought about that before, but it really does illustrate how hopeless all of them were. If Telemachus didn't believe Athena, you're right, he wouldn't really care about Menelaus' letter either.

I knew about the law of Xenia, so I assumed that was the only reason stopping them from sending the suitors away. I admit I was a tad bit confused why Telemachus didn't force the suitors to leave once he outright had Athena's and Zeus' blessing, so your explanation really helped me make sense of everything!

It's such a nice and sweet detail to have Telemachus and Odysseus going through their journeys at the same time (Telemachus' first journey and Odysseus' last journey, even!), only to meet again at home and taking back control of their palace together. Maybe I teared up a bit, can't deny nor confirm hahahahaha

You are still way more knowledgeable on the topic, and your academic background gives a perspective other people might not have. So I think it's fair to call you as such 🥰❤️

Oh, I see! Sorry, I'm a bit too anxious at times and end up worrying too much that I gave the wrong impression or was rude by accident hahaha

This has been a lovely discussion indeed! Once again, thank you so much for being so kind to explain everything, I'll definitely be reading the books with new perspectives and insights!

Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.

But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.

[matchalovertrait]

updated gen 2 posts!!

soooo I went back and edited so many of my Generation 2 posts. It took me a while, but I think I got them all! I did this for two reasons:

1. I wanted to further differentiate Generation 2 from Generation 1. Hopefully, the vibe shift matches the Pinterest boards a bit more: Noemí's board / Dulce's board.

*Dulce's new house was built by the awesome @authorspirit and she made her house so fun!!! I wanted my editing to be as lively as the new house. I can never thank her enough for building the house, I adore it.

2. I was inspired by @paracosmic-sims's editing style :> I believe it was this post specifically that caught my eye, super cute! Dulce's favorite color is purple and I'm unsure why it never occurred to me to use purple in my editing. So, thank you very much, Kinha <3

Here are some examples of the new style:

And thank you to my mutuals who gave feedback on the legibility of the text :)

Apologies to those who don't like colors clashing 😅 but I NEED the colors to be this way

I also updated the banner. The old one seemed too similar to Generation 1's banner:

I wanted it to have a similar-ish style of these:

I got the wording of "Dulce and Company" from @abbysimsfun cuz I thought it was sooo cute. It gave the same energy as "Polly and her pals!" :) so thank you to you too.

[thefandomsfervent]

JayVik x Reader Personal Pigments (Part 23) - Transparent Earth Yellow

Gala chapter coming soooon <3

Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom.

not that I'm losing steam with this fic, but it has inpsired so many other things that i want to write too. This fic may enter a hiatus after a few more chapters so I can start other projects. Stay tuned and Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

As Mel said, there was an invitation later that week. A rich blue envelope and a golden wax seal delivered on top of a series of letters and books when Jayce walked into the lab. Viktor was first to see it, peeling the wax open with a screwdriver. He huffed as he read it, tossing the paper to the side. 

“Ridiculous,” muttering under his breath. “We should not go Jayce, we have more important work to do than to flaunt our feathers.” Viktor speaks clearer there, his words sharp when he points to Jayce with the tool in his hand. Jayce doesn’t respond right away. Instead he goes to look at the invitation himself. 

“To Talis and Co.,” He winces at that, his lips curling to the side and his brow furrowing. 

“You have been invited to the Innovator’s Gala, an event centered around Piltover’s finest and brightest minds.” Jayce is reading it to you, as much disdain and sarcasm as that man could truly try to muster lacing his words. His finger pointed in the air like he is imitating some elderly man. 

“Yes Jayce, I read it.” Viktor’s back is to you both when he speaks. “Help me with this equation.” He doesn’t see the way Jayce’s finger droops down, shoulders dramatically slumping. You can’t hide your giggle at Jayce’s pout. Viktor turns around at the sound, just in time to see you covering your mouth. Shaking your head when Jayce starts mimicking his partner, opening and closing his hand. He turns around to see Viktor’s deadpan face, a raised brow, and a smirk that only grows when your laughter gets louder. 

“Mocking Jayce. How unbecoming. Truly, I am wounded.” He gestures for Jayce to give you the invitation with one hand, and tilts his head back to the board. Jayce hands you the paper, fingers grazing your own. He was so warm, and you can only hope that the burning of your cheeks could be chalked up to your laughing. He’s stifling his own when he joins Viktor, letting his partner jokingly shove the chalk into his chest. 

It’s a thick parchment, barely holding itself open at the creases where it had been folded to fit into the envelope. Golden filigree at the corners and the symbol of Piltover embossed directly in the center top. It was good paper, expensive like all things were here. Viktor’s chalky fingerprints glinting softly as raised swirls around the edges. Jayce’s own were left in some barely there soot from his time in the forge that day. And now yours, in colorful pressed oils. It clashed against the paper, was too loud, if you had intended to leave a mark you would have chosen something more subtle. Instead of focusing on that you look over the words scrawled over the letter. 

Your eyes quickly skim over text. It would be held in The Academy’s own event hall as a pre–cursor to the Young Innovator’s Competition that would be happening later on in the year for different inventors of Runterra to converge at. Despite what Mel had said, it seemed that it wouldn’t be where they would need to show off new inventions, but to mingle and talk and garner interest. The idea of them both in something nicer than mandated Academy outfits did sound promising. Imagining them in another environment than the lab, what would that be like? The closest you had been to seeing that was when Jayce had gotten drunk off the wine they chose to keep in a cabinet of the lab. You almost put down the letter to get back to your own work when something catches your eye. Thick golden letters in a different font, also embossed to make them stand out against the pale paper, gracing the bottom.

“This invitation is valid for three guests. Jayce Talis of House Talis, Assistant to the Dean of the Academy Viktor, and -” your name was there. The title they had given you was “Arts Institute Guest.” And something bubbles up in your chest. It was embarrassment and shock. It was anxiety and excitement. Mostly confusion. Their labels were so impressive, although you were sure they would both dislike the chosen words. Your own was so… plain. You were here as a guest after all, you knew that. But then why were you invited in the first place? Was this Mel’s doing? Would they want you to go? Did they even want to go? You brush a thumb over the words, silently questioning the characters as if they had any of the answers. All you get in reply is the printed date, the numbers defined in thin strokes. It was about three weeks out. The competition itself was several months away. The two men are talking amongst themselves. Drag of chalk along the board, the tapping on someone’s foot, gentle shuffling. Sounds that ground you. 

You turn to the painting, you had left it by an open window to speed up the drying process. Summer was chasing Spring. Telltale signs of the season showing in heat waves distorting the horizon line as you looked out over the city. You let yourself settle against the frame, back on the wall and legs stretched forward. You hold the paper in one hand up to the window, letting the sun shine through the fibers. Letting the rays backlight the golden embellishments, turning that brilliant yellow to a dull glowing brown. You can see where the paper is thicker in some spots. It was smooth and high quality, but you can tell. “This was hand-made.” Your voice is quiet, and you are too focused on the craftsmanship before you to notice how Viktor and Jayce stop working to watch you. Your fingers feel the edges of the paper, deckled and soft, barely there fraying. 

Viktor has talked with Jayce about it before, how it was not fair that there was no one to draw you. And in this particular moment it feels cruel. The moment felt intimate. Domestic. The edge of your face golden in the sunlight, eyes focused and calm, a rosy glow on your cheeks. Jayce has dabbled in sketching before. Shared his own small drawing of Viktor from their first encounters. It was crude, cute even. And Jayce would admit that he has tried to draw you too.  But he couldn’t show that to you or to Viktor. So he takes the moment in, watching your eyes dart over the paper in your hand. Your attention to detail was endearing to him. To both of them. His affection for Viktor was overwhelming in a lot of ways. Caused his heart to jump to his throat, to stutter over words. With you it was warm and soft, like a hug. What either of them would give to walk behind you wrap their arms around you, settling their heads in the crook of your neck. When you start moving it startles them both, Jayce jumping in his spot and Viktor choosing to look at the books on the table. 

Staring at the paper you hear Mel’s words, “Afraid of a challenge?” If she was the reason your name was on the invitation, you should go. Just to get out of this stuffy lab and do something new if nothing else. Certainly not to prove a point. That there was nothing you needed to be aware of. And that despite your nervousness, you do not back down from a challenge. Not as a Zaunite. Not as an artist. You set your shoulders, steel your breath, and turn to Jayce and Viktor. 

“I’d like to go.” 

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

--.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙-Part 22-.-Next Part will be linked here.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .--

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[vesanal]

‧⋆‧₊˚✧Perci✧˚₊‧⋆‧ 

   A Character Introduction

“…It sure seems like a huge world out there. I can’t wait for it to show me everything that it’s worth! Nothing is holding me back now.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

‧⋆‧₊˚✧Information✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Name: Perci D’raah Tarros

Nicknames: Perce

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Orientation: Demiromantic-Heterosexual

Age: 21

Birthdate: November 11th

Birthplace: Bostad, Pytharios of Khri

Species: Iceling-Elf

Occupation: Member of the Queen’s Army, rank Rooke

Education: Educated at the Queen’s Academy for Young Learners of Magic in Haukrosen, Pytharios of Khri

Current Residence: Haukrosen, Pytharios of Khri

‧⋆‧₊˚✧Personality✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Perci Tarros can be quite an outgoing and bright spirit. Staying calm during intense situations and having limitless courage to take anything he wants exemplifies this trait. He is also inquisitive, a bit too much for his own good. As well, he can be very overconfident about his abilities and put way too much trust in himself. He can always be seen getting into some kind of trouble, albeit unknowingly. But, due to his quick wit and endless creativity, he manages to squeeze out any trouble that comes his way. He is one to always question the why of things and how they happen, despite never really outgrowing the naive child who doesn’t question further. Because of that, he believes everything that is told to him by a trusted authority figure. Thankfully, he hasn't been led astray or down dangerous paths, but into becoming the best he can be. Though, maybe as he develops his worldview, he can stand strong on his own.

MBTI Type: ENFJ-A

Alignment: Lawful Good

Likes: His family, his friends, expanding his worldview, providing for people, his growth, doing things that he is good at only, excelling in new things, the stars in the night sky, sparring with others, and learning about the world around him

Dislikes: Bossy people, doing things he is bad at, burnout, liars & manipulators, and jerks

Goals: Prove himself to others and himself that he is just as capable as the rest of them and to improve to be the best he can be, learning everything he can about these strange new areas he is exploring on their journey

Hobbies: Practicing his spells (better known as Allurements & Virtues), venturing out in the woods beyond in search of new things, astronomy & stargazing, and cooking

‧⋆‧₊˚✧Appearance✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Height: 5’ 10” or 177cm

Weight: 135

Build: Long and lanky; with quite of bit of muscle mass, but not enough to not get underestimated on his immense skill in magic

Hair: Tousled, brilliant white hair with flowy bangs that obscure his forehead, the back of his hair is much longer than the front, capping off at his shoulders

Eyes: Strikingly blue in color and rather sharply set, thirsting for answers

Skin Complexion: A pale blue, one that blended in perfectly in the ice surrounding him, with small spots of youthful blush on his cheeks and nose

Scars: None

Piercings: 2 small spikes on each ear that jut out on the top of his ear, along the edge

Tattoos: No tattoos but he wears black ceremonial face and body paint that stains his skin, called Rekkala, located on his forehead, down his sloped nose, under his eyes, across his cheekbones, & covering his neck, and spiraling down his arms, ending on his lower back.

‧⋆‧₊˚✧Extra✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Want to see more Perci?

More here!!

Check out the story here!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Taglist: (interreact with this post here to be +, notify me if you want to be -)

@seastarblue @seafloor507 @stars-forever @viridis-icithus @estrellasxxminis @synthesistoagreatercreation @ink-stains-and-constellations @wyked-rebellion @satohqbanana @amatowriting @riverstixx @theodora47 @selfemployedmess @thebookishkiwi @17panicattacksinatrenchcoat @memento-morianon @the-ellia-west @write-with-will @jwritesalright @sunflowerrosy @myniceisniceblogbloglog @corinneglass

[ros-sauce]

Oughg my god Speaking of Mizuki Regularly Getting The Trans Flag Glued To Her Forehead. Today I am thinking about Solitus Utopia. Big yap session ahead

In terms of cards, it's probably The bluntest example of aforementioned trans flag forehead gluing; pink, blue, and white take center stage. And ouughhh. OUGHHGH. The placement of those colors is making me absolutely crazy

Her outfit has a similar deal to her first casual outfit. Lot of blue and white happening with the clothes, and then her hair and eyes are the pink needed to complete the set. To me, what that says is "This character is a walking trans flag, and she herself is the pink. The Girl Color. The girl!"

I've always felt that pink being the only one of those three colors to be Attached To Her was significant, but it's only now that I'm realizing that the clothing has significance too... I'm feeling two meanings from it:

It signifies the importance of cute clothing in Mizuki's transition. Being as cutesy as possible and altering her silhouette are some of her main tools in the way of passing as cis. (The former being a source of joy and the latter being a dysphoria alleviator also deserve mentioning!!). Her clothes complete the trans flag that her Girl Color Hair started; her clothes build up the road she took on the journey that her Girl Color Very Being started. ... And on a less positive note, I think there is also some significance to the fact that the trans flag color palette is only all there when something is Applied To Her. Without her outfit, she's just Girl Color. When the outfit is put on her, the Girl Color is made to be a part of something else, The Trans Colors. Your first thought is no longer "That's a girl and she happens to be Girl Color. Neat!", but "That's a trans girl and she happens to be Trans Colors. Neat!". I feel like there are parallels between that and how much she hates being labelled Different. This is crude, but it's how the words want to come out of my mouth. Sorry: Because Society Says So, you don't need to wear clothes at home, but you do in public. Because Society Says So, Mizuki can exist as Just A Girl when she's at home. She can be Just Pink. "Her home" means two things here. Firstly, Literally Her House, with Yuuki "Ally 9000" Akiyama & her supportive-enough-I-guess parents being the only people who she interacts with. To them, she's just a girl, and they're not weird about it. They know she's trans, but they don't act any particular way because of that. Her other home is Nightcord, at least before Niigo started meeting up in person. As Amia, she was assumed to be a cis girl, and there was no risk (in their pre-mainstory days) of Niigo ever finding out otherwise. While being presumed cis isn't quite as close to "Girl With No Modifiers" as living with an unfathomably based family, it still didn't carry the Othering that she's used to accompanying her status as a trans girl. If she wants to exit her home, she has to put on the clothes, has to put on the label that is made when the color palette is completed, and go from "Girl" to "Girl And By The Way Did You Know She's Trans?". And that makes everyone and their mother feel like it's fine to treat her weird. The pitying and resentment that she fears so much at best, and "HEY DID YOU KNOW SHE'S NOT NORMAL? ISN'T THAT WEIRD? AGREE WITH ME NOW OR YOU'RE WEIRD TOO" to anyone who'll listen at worst. With a million billion other forms of othering in between. (Hm. Suddenly I'm thinking about blue's absence from her 3rd anni casual outfit. She's no longer a walking trans flag, and is way pinker than before. Because it's a marketable game with marketable characters, we always had good reason to expect Niigo to be normal about her when the secret came out. But still, I feel like having Even More Girl Color glued to her forehead in Trans Palette's place could be considered some kind of foreshadowing for Niigo being normal... BUT ANYWAY this is not a post about the most incredible pants this world has ever seen, this is a post about Solitus Utopia, so I'll get back to that now.)

With the clothing out of the way, I'd like to move on to the rest of the card. This card is from late 2022, when Mizuki's transness was not quite as obvious ("a few inches away" levels of in-your-face as opposed to the more "you are a school principal at a fundraiser and her transness is a cream pie" level we are at now). This makes me extra ready to take this card as an unspoken "To be clear yes she is a trans girl".

The background walls and furniture are largely blue, and the decor is largely pink and white (and purple. Hi, Niigo!). The former is something that's hard to alter or move or acquire more of, whereas it's pretty easy with the latter. If you have walls or furniture that you hate, you can make it look more palatable by decorating it with things you like, with relative ease. Mizuki did that! The background is covered in all manner of fashion-related pink things, and the pink sewing machine and other supplies carry the implication that she made them herself. They do a great job carrying out their purpose, popping so much in comparison to the blue walls that said walls appear more grey than anything else. And also, you don't really feel like looking at the walls, because all that decor makes them Not Really A Point Of Interest.

To me, that sounds a whole lot like transitioning. There's an unfortunate status that's pretty hard to get rid of, both legally and socially, because Government and People just love to obsess over what you were assigned at birth. But changing the way you appear helps make things more bearable for you, both because you're happier looking a certain way, and because the public is slightly less awful to you when you look a certain way.

Cycling back to the "you focus on the pink things more than anything" point, I feel like the most significant pink thing is Mizuki herself. And I think that is also very nice!! Her pinkness is at the very center of the card. It is the heart of the card! Pink!! Girl color!! Heart!! Mizuki's heart is girl color!! Woah!!

(Obligatory "I do not speak Japanese and I do not live there, so I could be wrong", but I think "I was born with an [insert gender] body, but my heart is [insert other gender]" is a fairly popular way of describing being transgender in Japan? I feel like that phrasing has been losing popularity in English, but I still hear it fairly often in Japanese LGBT+ circles on social media and stuff. If I'm right, then that adds a few more significance points to the Pink Center Of Card thing)

Neat card. I love this pink girl a lot

[onebadassunicorn]

The Spy Who Loved Me

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: none so far...

word count: 2.9K

Taglist: @motheroffae

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please leave me a comment!

Image owned by Velocity Visual Media.

____________________________________________

Trying a new way of writing and dropping the POV before each chapter. The editing was driving me crazy and I can still get both points across without it, allowing the reader to read it as if it is happening to them but also seeing what the MMC thinks and feels.

********

Chapter 1

The Autumn Court was alive with decadence, the air heavy with the scent of falling leaves and spiced wine. Golden and amber lights glittered in the sprawling hall, illuminating masked faces and figures clad in luxurious silks and velvets. The masquerade was a swirling chaos of intrigue and beauty, and you moved through it with calculated grace.

Draped in a gown of shimmering deep red that hugged your figure like molten fire, you were a vision, drawing eyes wherever you went. Your mask, gilded in gold and adorned with delicate leaves, hid much of your face but couldn’t obscure your striking honey-colored eyes, which glimmered like liquid sunlight. Your long dark hair cascaded down your back in loose waves, catching the light as you moved, commanding attention even as you pretended not to notice.

You weren’t meant to draw attention, not truly, but it was impossible not to. The room seemed to part in your wake, the beauty of your long dark hair and enigmatic presence captivating everyone who dared to look too long.

Including him.

Azriel saw you the moment you entered the ballroom.

He had been standing in the shadows, as he always did, his Illyrian leathers hidden beneath a formal jacket of midnight blue. His cobalt mask—simple and unobtrusive—did little to conceal the sharp lines of his face or the cold calculation in his hazel eyes.

But that coldness wavered the moment he saw you.

You moved through the crowd like a phantom, an apparition of elegance and control. There was something in the way you carried yourself—graceful but purposeful, detached yet dangerously alluring. He watched as Eris’s gaze followed you too, the red-haired heir clearly already ensnared by your presence.

That alone was enough to put Azriel on edge.

But it wasn’t just Eris who noticed you.

It was him.

And that unnerved him far more.

Azriel wasn’t accustomed to distraction. Decades of service in the shadows, of mastering the art of secrecy, had honed his focus to a blade’s edge.

Yet here you were, blurring the lines of his thoughts with every step you took.

The way your gown clung to your figure, the way your hair shimmered under the golden light, the way your honey-colored eyes seemed to pierce the very fabric of the room—it all felt like a threat.

A beautiful, maddening threat.

You felt his gaze before you met it.

A searing weight, as though his hazel eyes could strip you of all your secrets if you lingered too long under their scrutiny. But you didn’t falter. You dipped your head in acknowledgment, just enough to be polite, and continued your path through the crowd, your heart pounding harder than you cared to admit.

Your mission was clear.

You were here to ensnare Eris, to weave yourself into his web and extract the secrets he guarded so closely about Beron’s plans. Tarquin had entrusted you with this task, knowing your skill in subterfuge, your ability to become whatever your target needed you to be.

You couldn’t afford distractions.

When you finally paused at the edge of the ballroom, Azriel didn’t hesitate. He moved toward you, his steps silent, his shadows curling faintly at the edges of his form. You turned just as he reached you, as if you had felt his approach, and when your eyes locked with his, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you.

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering over him, assessing.

He wondered what you saw.

A threat?

A distraction?

A man you could manipulate, perhaps?

Finally, you inclined your head, offering your hand. “If you wish.”

Azriel took your hand, his scarred fingers brushing your smooth skin, and led you to the dance floor. The music shifted into a slower, more intimate melody as he placed one hand on your waist and the other on your hand. You moved together, your steps perfectly in sync, as though you had rehearsed this dance in another life.

“Who are you?” he asked after a beat, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You tilted your head slightly, your expression unreadable beneath your mask. “No one of importance.”

The words should have dismissed him, but they only intrigued him more. He studied you as you moved, his sharp gaze lingering on the curve of your lips, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked. There was a strength in your bearing, a quiet fire that belied the cool detachment in your voice. He wanted to know everything—your name, your purpose, what secrets you held behind those golden eyes.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a thread of curiosity weaving through it.

Your lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Doubt what you like, Shadowsinger.”

His breath hitched at the way you said it—his title, not his name, as though you knew him already, as though you were peeling back the layers of who he was with every passing second.

But the truth was, you didn’t know him.

You only knew the legend of him: the spymaster of the Night Court, a male who wielded shadows and silence with a precision that had no equal.

And yet, the stories hadn’t prepared you for the way he looked at you, as if you were a secret he was determined to uncover.

Nor had they prepared you for the way his presence made you feel—unsteady, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t explain.

The dance continued, but Azriel’s mind was a storm.

His instincts screamed at him that you were dangerous, that you were hiding something.

But another part of him, the part that had been starved for something other than duty and shadows, couldn’t pull away. You were a puzzle, a mystery wrapped in beauty, and he couldn’t help but want to unravel you piece by piece.

“You’re not going to tell me your name, are you?” he asked, leaning just close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear.

“I don’t see why it matters,” you replied, your voice as steady as you could manage. Inside, your heart was racing, a storm of desire and fear.

“It matters to me,” he said simply, and for a moment, his vulnerability was disarming.

You met his gaze, your walls wavering for the briefest moment. “Some things are better left a mystery, Shadowsinger.”

When the music ended, you stepped back, slipping out of his grasp before he could hold on to you. breaking the spell. You curtsied slightly, your movements fluid and elegant. “Thank you for the dance.”

Azriel’s hand lingered on yours for a fraction too long, his eyes searching yours. “Will I see you again?”

You hesitated, something flickering in your gaze—

A look of longing?

Then you smiled, soft and enigmatic. “Perhaps.”

And just like that, you slipped away into the crowd, leaving Azriel standing alone, his thoughts a tangled web of frustration and fascination.

The music shifted again as you finished your dance with Azriel, your hand slipping from his grasp like a fleeting shadow. His hazel eyes burned into you as you disappeared back into the crowd. His shadows curled around his shoulders like restless sentinels, whispering something only he could hear.

But he didn’t need them to tell him what he already knew: you were dangerous.

And undeniably captivating.

Before you could retreat into the anonymity of the masquerade, another presence intercepted you.

Eris Vanserra.

The heir to the Autumn Court’s throne was as sharp and polished as ever, his crimson hair gleaming under the golden lights of the ballroom. He extended his hand, a sly smile curving his lips.

"Would you grant me the next dance, my lady?" he asked, his voice smooth and tinged with an air of entitlement.

You hesitated for the briefest moment, acutely aware of Azriel’s gaze still fixed on you from somewhere in the room.

Refusing Eris would draw suspicion, and you couldn’t risk that. Placing your hand in his, you allowed him to lead you back onto the dance floor.

Eris was confident, his steps practiced and elegant as he guided you into the rhythm of the music. His amber eyes roamed over your figure, admiration thinly veiled behind his mask of charm. "You move as if you were born to rule a ballroom," he remarked, his tone a mixture of flattery and calculation.

You responded with a small smile, careful to remain enigmatic. "A skill that comes in handy when navigating courts such as this one."

As the song transitioned into another, Eris pulled you closer, his hand slipping slightly lower on your back. You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, even as his touch lingered just a fraction too long. You had prepared for this—Tarquin had warned you what it might take to secure Eris’s attention.

Your mission depended on it.

From across the room, Azriel’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange. His shadows writhed, agitated by the sight of Eris’s hands on you, his proximity to you. Azriel told himself he was only observing because you were suspicious, because he needed to uncover what game you were playing here.

But the sharp flare of jealousy curling in his chest said otherwise.

Eris leaned in, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, "You’re far too intriguing to be from the Autumn Court. Tell me, where does such beauty hail from?"

You laughed softly, the sound light and practiced. "Does it matter? I am here now, and that should be enough."

Eris chuckled, clearly charmed. "Fair enough, my lady. But I suspect there’s more to you than you let on."

The dance continued through another song, and then another, with Eris becoming bolder with each passing moment. His hands strayed more freely, lingering on your waist, your back. You allowed it, playing your role, though your skin prickled under his touch. You were keenly aware of the weight of Azriel’s gaze, even if you couldn’t see him. You knew he was still watching.

When the final note of the song faded, Eris leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Shall we take a walk in the gardens? I find the company in here far less captivating than you."

You nodded, offering a demure smile. "Lead the way."

He guided you through the golden doors that opened onto the sprawling gardens, the cool night air brushing against your heated skin. Azriel followed silently, his shadows wrapping around him as he melded into the darkness, his jealousy simmering as he watched from a distance.

As you strolled through the maze of hedges and autumn blooms, Eris asked, "I must admit, I’ve never seen you at any court functions before tonight. Who are you?"

You had prepared for this. The persona you and Tarquin had carefully crafted slipped into place seamlessly as you replied, "My name is Kaela. I am from a lesser court, though our ties to the Summer Court have granted me certain... privileges. Tarquin himself encouraged me to attend."

Eris’s interest deepened, his amber eyes narrowing as he took in your words. "Tarquin, you say? I wasn’t aware the Summer Court was fond of sending such exquisite creatures into our midst."

You smiled coyly, your expression perfectly masking the calculations behind it. "Perhaps they saw it as a gesture of goodwill."

Eris chuckled, stopping beneath the boughs of a tree draped in glowing autumnal leaves. "Well, if their goal was to enchant me, they’ve succeeded." He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You are unlike anyone I’ve ever met."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips pressing softly to yours. For a moment, you let it happen, knowing it was necessary to cement the illusion, to draw him further into your trap.

But Azriel, hidden among the shadows of the garden, felt his jealousy flare into a near-unbearable heat. His hands clenched at his sides, his shadows lashing out in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to step forward, to rip Eris away from you, to claim the place that Eris had stolen for himself.

But he stayed rooted in the darkness, reminding himself of his duty, of the need to remain unseen.

When the kiss ended, you stepped back, offering Eris a faint smile that carried just the right touch of shyness. "You flatter me, my lord. But I believe I should return to the ballroom before my absence is noted."

Eris’s gaze lingered on you, but he nodded. "Very well. But I hope this won’t be the last time we meet."

You inclined your head, turning and walking back toward the ballroom, your heart pounding—not from Eris’s kiss, but from the knowledge that Azriel had seen everything. You could feel the weight of his gaze even as you reentered the hall, leaving Eris and the gardens behind.

In the darkness, Azriel remained, his shadows whispering their discontent.

He had come here to gather information about any potential threats from Autumn Court, but now he had more questions than answers—chief among them: who were you, and why the hell couldn’t he stay away?

********

Azriel stepped into the war room of the Night Court, the weight of his observations from the Autumn Court still heavy on his mind. The great windows of the House of Wind let in the cool starlight of Velaris, casting an ethereal glow over the dark table where Rhysand sat, reclining with effortless poise.

"You're back earlier than expected," Rhys noted, tilting his head as Azriel approached. His violet eyes gleamed with curiosity, though his tone carried the faintest edge of concern. "What did you uncover in Beron's court?"

Azriel’s shadows swirled around him, restless and faintly agitated, betraying the tension he kept buried. He recounted his observations—the intricate dances of politics, the subtle shifts in alliances, and, finally, the details of you. He kept his tone even, his words concise, but the moment he mentioned you, the shadowsinger’s usual composure wavered, just slightly.

“There was someone unusual there,” Azriel said, his voice low, his hazel eyes fixed on Rhys. “A female. She claimed to be from a lesser court with ties to Tarquin, though I’ve never seen or heard of her before.”

Rhys straightened, his brows lifting slightly. “A lesser court? Tarquin usually keeps his allies close to the Summer Court. Sending someone to the Autumn Court, especially now, is… odd.”

Azriel nodded, his jaw tightening. “She was… difficult to read. She spent much of the night with Eris, clearly capturing his attention. But her presence felt… calculated. Every move she made was deliberate. And yet, I could sense no immediate threat from her. No allegiance to Beron, at least not openly.”

“And you’re certain she’s tied to Tarquin?” Rhys asked, his tone sharper now.

“She claimed as much when Eris pressed her. Her name is Kaela—or so she says. She mentioned Tarquin encouraged her to attend, though why he’d send someone from a lesser court remains unclear. If she is working for him, she’s operating well outside the bounds of standard diplomacy.”

Rhys tapped his fingers against the table, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve heard no whispers of such a mission from Tarquin’s court. If this Kaela is who she claims to be, she’s done a remarkable job of keeping herself off my radar.”

Azriel hesitated for a moment, his shadows curling tighter around his shoulders. “There’s something else. She… seems to have captured Eris’s attention. He followed her around most all night, taking her to the garden and talking before kissing her.”

Rhys blinked, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And that’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

Azriel’s gaze darkened. “It’s not relevant.”

Rhys chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, it’s relevant, brother. Whether you realize it or not. But we’ll set that aside for now.”

“Do you trust her?” Azriel asked, cutting through Rhys’s teasing. His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it. “Tarquin has been a steady ally, but sending someone so… covert… doesn’t feel like something he’d do without a purpose.”

Rhys’s humor faded, replaced by a calculating seriousness. “I don’t know. Tarquin’s a clever male, but he’s not one for underhanded games. If this Kaela truly comes from him, there’s more at play here than we’re seeing. Until we know what, I want you to keep an eye on her.”

Azriel inclined his head. “There’s an Autumnal Equinox gathering in a week. She might attend.”

“Then you’ll attend, too,” Rhys said firmly. “If she’s there, get closer. Figure out what she’s after. And if she isn’t—” he paused, his gaze sharp, “—then find out why Eris is so smitten with her that he’s letting someone outside his court get this close. That alone is worth investigating.”

Azriel nodded, though his thoughts churned. The memory of you, of the way you’d moved through the Autumn Court’s masquerade like a phantom, lingered in his mind. He didn’t know if he trusted you—or if he wanted to trust you. But something about you had unsettled him, had made him feel… unbalanced. He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the mission ahead.

As he turned to leave, Rhys’s voice stopped him. “And Azriel?”

The Shadowsinger paused, glancing back.

“Don’t let her distract you. If she’s working against us, you can’t afford to let your fascination cloud your judgment.”

Azriel said nothing, his face an unreadable mask, but his shadows whispered otherwise as they trailed after him, restless and drawn to the memory of your honey-colored eyes.

Chapter 2

[duhshereadz]

Jinx and Ekko preparing for battle:

Jinx stares at the paintbrush in her hand, the bristles tapping softly against her palm. Her eyes flicker back to Ekko, who is carefully mixing his own colors in a cracked tin. A nervous energy hums between them, neither sure where to start, both on edge but oddly connected in this moment. She’s still wearing the remnants of her chaotic outfit—scorched leather, mismatched gloves, and the bright blue strands of her hair tangled like a wild storm. Her fingers twitch at the brush.

“Are you gonna sit there all serious, or are you gonna paint?” she asks, her voice a little too high-pitched, as if it might crack under the weight of the moment. She’s trying to hide it, trying to turn it into something playful, but the words feel like they hang heavy in the air. She stares down at her hands, the blue paint that’s already splattered across her palms, mixing with the residual powder of explosives.

Ekko looks up, his eyes softer than she’s used to. There’s something different about him today—something less certain but also more grounded. He tilts his head, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leans forward, setting the tin of paint down and picking up a second brush.

“I’ll paint,” he says, but his voice is quieter now. “But I’m not just painting, Jinx. I need you to listen.”

She raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t reply immediately, but her curiosity is piqued, despite herself. She twirls the brush in her fingers, her eyes narrowed in that characteristic mischievous way, but her heart’s racing, a nervous flutter in her chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m listening. You know I’m the best at everything, even listening,” she says with a wild grin, but it comes out almost fragile. She dips the tip of the brush into a bright purple color, the bristles splattering some paint onto her cheek in the process.

Ekko doesn’t smile this time. His gaze softens, the weight of what he’s about to say pulling him into a rare kind of seriousness that makes Jinx’s playful demeanor falter for just a second.

“You know how we both got here, right?” he starts, his voice low and steady. “How you got to be… well, this version of you?”

Her eyes flicker away, the mention of her past hitting like a punch in the gut. She clutches her brush tighter, her breath slightly sharper now.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I did a few things—exploded a few things—what’s your point?” she says quickly, looking back at the wall like she can hide behind the chaos of the artwork. Her fingers twitch with the urge to pull out one of her many grenades, but she stops herself.

Ekko sighs, his eyes distant for a moment, as if remembering something painful. He runs a hand behind his neck, avoiding her gaze for a second. Then, he looks at her, and there’s a quiet ache in his eyes. It’s hard to see him like this, vulnerable, but it makes his next words hit harder.

“I came from another place, Jinx. Another world. A world where things were… different. And you were different, too. Powder wasn’t broken. She wasn’t lost.” His voice cracks slightly as he says the name, the pain of remembering who she used to be slipping through his tough exterior. “You… you were good, Jinx. You didn’t have to be this. You could’ve been so much more. I was gonna save you. I thought I could—”

Jinx freezes, her fingers stilling on the brush as his words fall around her like rain. The name “Powder” sinks into her chest, a tightness clawing at her throat. She doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know if she wants to hear it, but part of her is already feeling that desperate pull, the old wound reopening. She looks at Ekko, his face so raw and open now, and something deep inside her cracks.

“Stop it,” she mutters, voice trembling just a little. She’s never been one for softness—never known how to handle it—but she knows something’s coming. Something's broken. And she hates how much she wants to believe him.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Ekko continues, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice soft but unwavering, “but I need you to hear it. You weren’t always Jinx. You were Powder, and you were good. You still can be. That part of you, the one that cares, the one that dreams—she’s still there. She’s not gone.”

Her heart pounds against her chest, and her grip on the brush loosens. She tries to laugh it off, but the sound is hollow, desperate. “That’s not who I am anymore. I’m Jinx.” Her voice cracks on the name.

Ekko reaches forward, taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing over the paint-streaked skin. His touch is warm, grounding, and for a moment, Jinx forgets to be afraid. He meets her eyes, and in his gaze, she sees a reflection of something she’s been running from for so long: the hope of what she used to be, and the possibility of being something more than the chaos she’s built around herself.

“You don’t have to be Jinx. You just have to be you. Whatever that means. It’s okay to let go of the bombs for a moment. You don’t always have to explode.”

For a moment, Jinx says nothing. Her heart hammers, her breath shallow. She stares at him, trying to read the sincerity in his words, trying to find some way to make them fit. But they don’t fit—not yet. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead, she suddenly stands up, her body tense, and, in a frantic movement, she grabs the nearest can of bright red paint.

“Fine!” she yells, her voice wild again, “But if I’m gonna be good—we’re gonna be good together, okay? You’re still gonna fight with me. You’re still gonna make things go boom!”

Ekko stands up too, a small laugh escaping him despite everything.

“I never said we couldn’t make things go boom,” he says, a little grin tugging at his lips. He steps forward, gently taking the can from her hands, setting it aside with a quiet chuckle. His fingers hover near hers, the air thick with tension. Then, without thinking too much about it, he leans in, just a little, closing the distance between them.

“Jinx,” he says softly, his voice low and steady. “I’m with you, whatever happens. You’re not alone.”

And just like that, the air around them shifts. Jinx’s breath catches in her throat. She’s never felt this way before—not with him, not with anyone. For a brief moment, everything inside her stills, and then her heart beats faster than she can understand. Her mind races—fighting to pull away, to push him back, but the pull between them is stronger than anything she’s ever known.

Without thinking, she moves forward, closing the space between them, pressing her lips to his. The kiss is wild, unsure, and a little broken, but it’s real. It’s not the explosion she’s used to—it’s a gentle, messy collision. When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathless.

Jinx grins, her fingers trembling against his chest. "Guess we’re really doing this, huh?" she whispers, her voice cracked but full of a strange, quiet hope.

Ekko looks down at her, his face soft, but with a spark in his eyes that tells her, for the first time in a long while, maybe they could be something good.

"Yeah," he says, his voice steady, "we are."