#and the bracelet :( and his hand and the way he holds the glass and just- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lethalchiralium · 4 months ago

Note

hii your bio says that requests are open, so, if you don't mind, can i request a simon x reader where reader is also part of the 141 and got severely hurt, and turns out she's pregnant with simon's baby (they are together) but because of her injuries she lost the child? maybe they didn't know that she's pregnant. thank you love💞

hi!! i LOVE this prompt, so sorry it took so long lol

bring heaven down just for you | simon riley x wife!reader

cw: mentions of injury, blood, miscarriages

The car accident was extreme, even for the 141. They weren’t expecting to get T-boned in a city street, trying to make their escape, but it was short lived. You didn’t remember much, being in the backseat with your seatbelt off, on “follower” duty - pistol in hand, watching if anyone was tailing the escape. Price in the driver’s seat, Gaz in passenger, and Soap and Ghost were already at the safe house.

You remembered the car rolling, throwing you around like a ragdoll. Your head slammed against the roof of the car and then darkness took over, at least until you remembered hearing Price’s yelling. The way the straps on your vest were tugged and the blood curdling scream that left you, the explosion of pain in your leg, your shoulder, your abdomen - it woke you up instantly, and adrenaline seemed to kick in ten fold. Barely a glance down and you could see why pulling you wouldn’t be a good idea - so many glass shards in your body, deep red blood bubbled up and trickled out, you felt your body internally gag. You looked to the sound of gunshots, seeing Gaz firing off round after round, and soon silence followed. A slow blink, you found yourself crying out in pain in the street, Price knelt beside you, administering aid as you heard faint sirens. Soon, your eyes closed then opened again, finding yourself being loaded into an ambulance - Gaz and Price covered in blood. Panic surged through you, but so did the pain. A low rumble of pain escaped your chest, Gaz reached forwards and took your right hand - where did you gun go? - and held it gently, saying something you couldn’t quite hear.

A hand settled on your good shoulder, the one opposite to Gaz, you looked to your captain, now able to hear the siren wailing as he spoke, “Who do we need to call for you?”

A breath filled your lungs, only for you to cough and squeal out in pain. A moment more and you were able to grit out, “My husband.”

“What’s his name-“

The ambulance screeched to a halt, the back doors flung open, and your gurney was taken out. The IV in your elbow that was placed while you had passed out now seemed to prickle with pain, one nurse who walked beside your moving gurney drew a vile of blood before taking off, the rest of the medical crew pushed you into what you assumed was a trauma bay. You wouldn’t know, you’re not a medic. You’re just a sergeant, an infiltration specialist.

A doctor came in, placing a plastic bracelet on your wrist as you looked around with a heavy head. Price was with you, Gaz wasn’t… Where’s Soap and Ghost? Will they be here soon?

It felt like only two second passed when the nurse came back to your gurney, she was the one who took your blood. The other nurses still fluttered about, getting you ready for surgery as your captain stayed by your side. She had a somber look in her eye. There was a gentle hand on your shoulder, the good one, you paid no mind to Price - moving it to get his touch off of you. You didn’t want him there, you wanted-

��I have your test results, Miss.” You heard Price take a step back, the pain in your body began to feel fuzzy as the sedatives kicked in from your IV. The nurse stood beside you, holding onto the bed rail and you felt unease bubble into your lungs. In your adrenaline delirious state, you could still make out the look of the nurse’s face - the bearer of bad news. “Are you aware that you are pregnant?”

“I’m not pregnant.” It escaped like a whine, grabbing the nurse’s wrist with what little strength you had, your stomach twitched. “My husband and I have been- been trying for years. I- I can’t be.”

“You are, test confirms it. But we have to take you into surgery now, and I’m unsure if it will be viable after this.”

A growl emitted from your throat, “Save it. Save it. Save my baby. Please.”

There was a grim look on her face, and the doctor beside her. She stepped in, a calm look in her own eye as she spoke, “We’ll do the best we can, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

A hiccup escaped you, pain leaving you and your consciousness slipping away too, “Please. Save my baby.”

The doctor only nodded before she left, and the nurse gave you a somber look before leaving too. You couldn’t even look at your captain, the man you would have always looked to your guidance. But this… This was something you had to navigate alone and with your husband.

You were only awake for a few more moments, the anesthesiologist saying something about needing Price to leave, that you would be out soon. Your eyes grew heavy, you refused to fight it. Giving in meant not having to worry about losing the chance you’ve wanted.

When you woke up, pain encompassed you. A groan escaped you, your eyes opened and scanned the left side of the room, the light above your bed not being able to flood your room with light. It was dark outside, the stars still perched in the sky, your eyes moved right and you could see the dark mass of someone just entering through the door.

“Simon,” You whined his name, tears escaping your eyes in fat globs, your one good hand reaching for him. He was instantly by your side, hand gently moving from strands from your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever for?” He murmured as he pressed his lips to your temple. “You survived. Why would you be-“

Your jaw set, the words spoken like kerosene, meant to burn yourself alive. “I was pregnant.” The raw sob that escaped you made you push your head back, looking your husband in the eye as you sobbed from your injuries and the loss of what could’ve been. “I didn’t- I didn’t know and- and it’s gone.”

Your husband froze, you watched every muscle inside of him contract as he gazed at you. You watched, in such agony, as you husband’s forehead fell to your bandaged one, his warm hands holding your face and his own tears sprung from his face to mix with yours. And all you could hear was what sounded like howling - loud and heavy sobs, ones that would make your body tremble. It was just hard to realize that they were coming from you, you only realized it when Simon’s hand went around to your lower back, trying to move you towards him, trying to hold you in a way that could truly comfort you. It was useless. Useless.

“It’s gonna be okay.” A meaningless saying now. It hasn’t meant a fucking thing since your third miscarriage in your second year of marriage. It hasn’t meant anything since you had to stop counting your losses and began to pretend that your husband wasn’t fucking destroyed that you couldn’t give him the one thing you want to. A family.

How could it be okay when you couldn’t do this one fucking thing that your body was made to do?

“We’ll be okay.” He murmured against your skin, your good hand holding onto his jacket sleeve, your head pounded as the sobs grew louder, turning into wails. As much as it hurt your throat, it hurt more now that after three years since your last one, you had a chance. And it was ripped from you, ripped from your hands before you even had a chance to understand why it had been given to you. A chance to show your husband that you could be good too, that you weren’t like your past either.

“It- It hurt- hurts-“ Was all you could manage, and you felt Simon’s sob shake you, burn you, crucify you. God, this must be Hell for him, because it’s more than Hell for you to think about the pain he’s in.

“I know, my girl, I know it must hurt.”

A zap of pain in your belly and you were crying more, the wails quieting to you begging him for medicine. Tears watered your vision of your Simon as he pressed the call button, brushing your hair back before looking you in the eye again. Even if you couldn’t see too well from the tears and the pain, you could imagine his velvet brown eyes - you could feel his tears as he brushed your hair back over and over, his words rumbled through you like a prayer.

“Our time’ll come soon, baby. And I’m so sorry that it wasn’t now, n’I know that’s gotta hurt so bad.” A kiss and then his cheek was pressed to your hair, you could hear the nurse come in, and more voices enter your room. There was no reason to fight your urge to close your eyes, let the tears fall, and listen to him. “But I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, jus’ like every time before, and any time after. I’ll be here, even if I have to kill a thousand men to get here. I will be here.”

#lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #might make more of this idk #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader

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chewnotchoke · 23 days ago

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yearnings, in every glance.

pairings: bnd taesan x fem!reader x riize sungchan warnings: love triangle, making out, red flags, reader is in their hoe phase, alcohol intake, vaping, jealousy, suggestive jokes note: this is very self-indulgent. sungchan had been running on my mind and i might as well just write smth abt him along w/ taesan. i did not proofread btw..i recommend listening to the playlist while reading! wc: 3.6k playlist: the weeknd - after hours, die for you, reminder, is there someone else, one of the girls, the party & the after party, come through (unreleased)

“wait... you invited taesan?” sungho’s eyes flicked to your phone screen, disbelief widening his expression as he spotted the chat with taesan. his mouth hung open for a moment, processing the bold move you’d just made.

you’d been in the talking stage with taesan for two weeks now, a slow, careful move of interest and flirtation. and tonight, you’d taken the plunge, inviting him to join you at the club for a friday night out.

digging into the depths of your bag, your fingers searched for your hand mirror. finding it, you touched up your lip gloss, the final flourish to your look before stepping into the neon-lit night. the thought of going with sungho brought a sense of ease. though your closest girlfriends would be there too, it was reassuring to have sungho along. he was not just reliable, but also a mutual friend of taesan’s, aware of the subtle, magnetic pull you seemed to have on him. even sungho, who knew your charm well, was amazed. taesan was a tough one to catch.

the moment you crossed the threshold into the club, the pounding bass reverberated through your chest, mingling with the flashing lights to create a heady cocktail of excitement. the atmosphere was electric, heightening your anticipation for what the night might hold. your friends drifted toward the reserved table, their laughter weaving through the thrumming beats. you weren’t one to be overtly extroverted, often finding comfort in the familiar comfort of your friends.

but tonight felt different. there was a spark of curiosity, a desire to explore a version of yourself that even you rarely glimpsed.

a few shots in, the alcohol’s warmth coursed through your veins, loosening the edges of your usual restraint. some of your friends had already taken to the dance floor, swaying and spinning under the strobe lights. sungho, meanwhile, had found his way to another table, chatting up a girl who fit his type perfectly. you stayed back with a couple of your girlfriends, enjoying the rhythm of the night but feeling a tinge of nerves as you waited for taesan. the mere thought of him, imagining how he might look tonight, dressed with that effortless charm sent a thrill skimming over your skin.

while your eyes wandered around the place, you laid on your eyes to the entrance door where you saw taesan enter with a nonchalant confidence.

his hair, sleek and dark. his denim jacket, worn loose. underneath, a graphic tee peeked out and his jeans matched the jacket, creating a cohesive look that spoke of effortless style. a few silver rings adorned his fingers, and a slim bracelet rested on his wrist, and the pair of glasses just below his intense eyes perfected the look. (pic here)

your heart raced, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, as his eyes met yours. taesan’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile that sent a jolt through your chest. his friends veered off toward their own table but taesan leaned in to whisper something to them before making his way toward you.

as he stopped in front of you, the world seemed to narrow, the pounding music and flashing lights dimming for just a moment. the subtle, intoxicating scent of his cologne wafted toward you. and that scent, so effortlessly alluring, stirring something deep and indescribable within you.

“hi, y/n.”

"hey," you greeted softly as he slid into the seat beside you. the air between you was tinged with a quiet awkwardness. it was not uncomfortable, but the kind that hinted at the flirting you had for the past days.

taesan glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes, and asked if you'd been sitting and drinking for a while. you shrugged, explaining that you didn’t want to burn through your energy too quickly, though your girlfriends and sungho had been making frequent trips back to the table for more shots.

leaning your head against your palm, you watched as taesan’s gaze wandered around the room, taking in the vibrant chaos of the club. your eyes, however, never wavered, staying fixed on him.

when his gaze finally met yours, he caught the lingering stare. a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. he lowered his head slightly, as if to hide it, but the amusement in his expression was undeniable.

"why?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

you shook your head, a playful smile curving your lips as you reached for the bottle on the table. pouring alcohol into an empty shot glass, you slid it toward him. "want one?" you offered.

without hesitation, he took the glass from your hand, his fingers grazing yours ever so slightly. his gaze locked with yours, unwavering, as he brought the glass to his lips, downing the drink in one smooth, effortless motion. a smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he shook the empty glass, raising his eyebrows in playful acknowledgment.

just then, one of his friends appeared, clapping him on the shoulder and urging him back to their table. "hold on, i’ll be back," taesan promised, flashing you a quick smile before turning to follow his friend.

moments later, sungho returned, and soon after, your girlfriends came to pull you onto the dance floor. you took another shot, feeling the warmth spread through you, finally ready to release the energy you’d been holding back. the dj spun a hypnotic mix of the weeknd’s songs. the lights shimmered and swayed in rhythm with the crowd, creating an electric atmosphere that pulled you in.

as the night wore on, heat blossomed on your cheeks, the music and movement carrying you away. but amidst the pulsating crowd, your eyes caught sight of taesan at the edge of the dance floor, chatting with an unfamiliar girl. curiosity stirred within you, not jealousy, but a quiet intrigue. while sungho was too absorbed in dancing with your friends to notice, you continued to move with the music, sneaking glances in taesan’s direction.

then, out of nowhere, you felt a subtle touch on your waist, a gentle hand on your shoulder. the touch was firm, guiding, as you turned around to face someone. it wasn’t sungho.

“what are you so busy looking at?” a familiar voice murmured.

your eyes lifted to meet sungchan’s, his hands steady on your shoulders. for a moment, you stood there, caught off guard, trying to process. the way the lights illuminated his face made it almost impossible to look away.

“sungchan?” you breathed, the word barely audible over the pounding music, your pulse quickening as you met his steady gaze.

sungchan wore a plain black t-shirt paired with dark coated pants. his hair is styled in a slightly tousled cut, which was complemented by a pair of black-rimmed glasses which you noticed was almost similar to taesan’s. (pic here)

a few weeks ago, something undefined had unfolded between you and sungchan, something that wasn’t quite a relationship but felt too tangled to be dismissed as mere casual flirting. he had a way of making you question if you were being ghosted—he'd slip away, just when you thought he had lost all interest. yet, like clockwork, he’d pull you back in, knowing exactly what to say or do to reignite the spark. it was a moment of unpredictability, with no real stability, but somehow the tension between you lingered. and now, as you stood there, staring at him, you felt it again.

sungchan had always shown flashes of interest and glimpses of something deeper. but neither of you seemed ready for anything defined, for anything that could be called commitment. gradually, the texts slowed, the messages less frequent, as if you were both drifting without really trying. still, even as the silence grew, his presence never fully vanished. his occasional heart reaction to your instagram stories, small but telling, kept a thread of connection between you.

and that’s when taesan entered the picture. you hadn’t exactly been searching for anything serious, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if it was even possible for you to stay intrigued by someone for long.

now that you were facing sungchan, blocked off any view you might get from taesan and the girl he was talking to, sungchan, catching the direction of your gaze, glanced over at him.

as taesan’s eyes flickered to the two of you, sungchan couldn’t resist a playful pinch to your cheek, a subtle challenge to keep taesan wondering about whatever was unfolding between you.

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone on the dance floor, hm?” he teased, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the pulsing music.

“i’m with sungho and the girls,” you replied with a casual shrug, as though it had been no time at all since you last spoke. “how long have you been here?” you asked. "just after you arrived. i saw you in line earlier," sungchan replied, his tone casual yet deliberate. you simply nodded, acknowledging his presence with a soft smile.

before you knew it, he was dancing beside you on the crowded floor. sungchan’s sudden appearance felt almost surreal, yet his energy seamlessly blended with the atmosphere, almost similar to sungho's steady and grounding presence.

a few minutes into dancing, sungchan leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs an invitation to step outside. you already have a hint of what’s coming, a subtle tension lingering in the air, so when he takes your wrist gently, you follow without hesitation. the pulse of the music fades behind you, replaced by the quiet hum of the night.

unbeknownst to you, taesan’s gaze has been fixed on you ever since sungchan entered the scene. his eyes reflected a quiet intensity. sungchan and taesan—two sides of a coin, each with their own allure.

sungchan is a master of the game, effortlessly weaving between moments of closeness and distance, keeping you teetering on the edge of curiosity and desire. he knows how to ignite a spark and let it smolder, leaving you wanting more.

taesan, on the other hand, plays no games. his interest is steady and unwavering, his flirtation consistent and straightforward. though it seems like he can give the same attention to other people.

yet despite their differences, one thing remains clear: neither of them, including you, seem ready to venture into the depths of something serious.

outside a closed store beside the club, sungchan leaned against the glass wall, his silhouette framed by the dim streetlights. he pulled a small device from his pocket, inhaling deeply before exhaling a plume of smoke that curled into the night air. you watched him, a smirk tugging at your lips as a chuckle escaped.

"you still vape?" he asked, offering the device in his hand.

you shrugged nonchalantly. "i'm trying to quit. but since you're being generous..."

just as you reached for the vape, his firm hands gently cupped your face instead, pulling you closer. his breath mingled with yours as he exhaled the smoke directly into your mouth. the boldness of his move left you momentarily stunned. you shook your head in disbelief. sungchan was as unpredictable as ever. you blew the smoke out from your mouth.

"you dating anyone?" he suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

"huh?" you replied, caught off guard. "the guy from earlier," he clarified, his tone casual but his eyes searching. he was referring to taesan.

"nope," you answered directly. "why?" he asked. you shrugged again, trying to find the right words. "just doesn't feel like the right time yet."

he nodded slowly, though his furrowed brow betrayed his thoughts. "so, you will soon?"

"don't know," you said, your voice soft.

sungchan looked away, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. a faint laugh escaped him, puzzling you further. but as his gaze returned, it drifted from your eyes to your lips and back again.

"wanna leave and go somewhere?" he asked, his hand gently caressing yours as he waited for your response.

before you could answer, a voice called out. "y/n!"

both of you turned to see taesan approaching. sungchan sighed, a hint of annoyance in his breath. "seriously..." he muttered under his breath, his brow arching in disinterest. his posture remained relaxed, but there was a subtle tension in the way his eyes briefly narrowed.

taesan drew nearer, his gaze inevitably falling on sungchan’s hand clasping yours. his expression remained stoic, but the spark of something unspoken danced across his eyes. “hey, taesan. what’s up?” you asked, trying to break the sudden tension in the air.

taesan’s eyes flicked to yours, then shifted briefly to sungchan. his lack of amusement was palpable. “sungho’s looking for you,” he said, his voice steady but edged with something that felt like urgency. it was only then you noticed sungchan’s hand still entwined with yours. gently, you slipped free from his grasp, feeling a momentary pang of awkwardness.

“sungho?” you echoed, tilting your head slightly.

taesan gave a curt nod. “mhm. let’s go inside.”

you glanced at sungchan, “i’ll be back in a bit,” you said softly. he nodded, offering a smile. “sure, i’ll wait here,” he murmured, but as his gaze shifted to taesan, the warmth drained from his expression, leaving a cold, unreadable mask in its place.

taesan trailed behind you as you wove through the crowd, your destination clear—the table where your friends gathered earlier. the thrum of the music reverberated through the floor, and your gaze swept over the scene: your girlfriends perched on the seats, laughing, while others swayed freely on the dance floor. yet, sungho was out of sight.

“where’s sungho?” you asked taesan, your tone light, almost curious.

taesan ran a hand through his tousled hair, the gesture casual but charged with something unspoken. without a word, he guided you upstairs, his grip firm yet gentle, leading you to the secluded vip area. the corridor dimmed as you followed him into an empty room, the door clicking softly shut behind you. you thought, or perhaps hoped, sungho would be waiting.

but deep down, you knew better. you had known from the start, ever since taesan had stepped outside while you were with sungchan, his gaze never wavering from a distance.

a chuckle escaped your lips, the situation unfolding in a way you found both amusing and intriguing. “you could’ve just told me you wanted me all to yourself, taesan.” you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

taesan’s eyes shifted, his playful demeanor shifting into something far more intense, a fire burning beneath the surface. “can i do that?” his voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of his desire.

you tilted your head, a nonchalant nod giving him all the permission he needed. he studied you for a heartbeat longer, his breath hitching, the air between you charged with anticipation.

“then,” he murmured, stepping closer, his words barely audible but filled with unmistakable intent, “can i have you for myself right now, y/n?”

instead of giving him an answer, you leaned into his face, parting your lips on his with deliberate intent. his hands cupped your face, thumbs grazing your jawline, while yours tangled in taesan’s hair, tugging him closer, deeper, pulling him into you like a lifeline.

his mouth was soft but demanding, lips parting slightly, brushing over yours with a desire that made your pulse quicken. you responded in kind, lips moving with an eager, almost frantic rhythm, tracing his mouth with your own.

taesan’s hands roamed lower, sliding over your neck, down your spine, pulling you flush against him. the heat between you was unbearable, each shift of his body was a sign of how much he needed you. one hand slid to your waist, fingers digging into your side, tugging you even closer, while the other found its way to your thigh, fingers curling around it possessively.

your lips moved faster, more urgently now, each kiss building on the last, deepening with need. his breath came in shallow gasps against your mouth, his body trembling slightly as if he too was losing control. you moaned softly, the sound muffled against his lips, and taesan responded with a groan, pressing harder against you, the intensity between you both thickening, overwhelming.

and then you stopped. you gave him a reassuring smile telling him, “that’s enough for now.” his chest fell in and out heavily and his eyes became softer, like a puppy asking for more. but he didn’t beg and push you for more. right before you open the door to get out, taesan’s hand settled on your wrist.

“what is it?” you asked.

“just in case you’re wondering…i only came because you’re here.” he says, a tone of reassurance hinted in his voice. and all it did was make you smile as you cup his cheek with your hand, your thumb gently grazing over his skin.

both of you emerged from the vip room and returned to the table, where sungho was waiting. his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he directed a short, sharp nagging your way.

"you keep disappearing. why are you with taesan?" his gaze flicked between the two of you, probing for answers. you offered none, brushing off his concern with a casual deflection. "i’m going outside for a bit," you said, already turning to leave.

but taesan wasn’t having it. before you could take a single step, he blocked your path, his expression soft but firm. "you’re really going?" his head tilted slightly, and there was a quiet plea in his sparkling eyes, as if asking you to stay.

"i’ll be quick," you murmured, offering him a faint smile before slipping away. sungho was left behind, puzzled, while taesan’s disappointment lingered in the air like an unspoken wish.

outside, just as promised, sungchan stood waiting. he was surrounded by a small crowd of friends, but the moment he spotted you, he maneuvered to a quieter corner. as he exhaled, the thin mist whirled in the air, curling off his lips, with a faint hint of smoke lending a strange appeal. his glasses sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose, highlighting his features with a certain charm.

leaning casually against the wall, he radiated an irresistible confidence.

in that moment, your thoughts betrayed you, consumed by a wish and an impossible longing—for both sungchan and taesan to be yours.

“fuck my life.” you hissed under your breath.

his confident smile faltered slightly when his eyes landed on your slightly smudged lip gloss, though he tried to mask his reaction. "you're back," he said, his voice warm but tinged with a hint of concern, as if he had noticed more than he was letting on. sungchan gently wiped the smudged gloss from your lips.

"you know," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your skin, "you look even more beautiful when you're a little undone."

the way he said it, with a hint of vulnerability and desire, sent a shiver down your spine, making your heart falter in a way you hadn't expected. you took a step back, trying not to falter much more. “sungchan…” you started.

“i’m going to date taesan.”

you expected a flicker of surprise, maybe even a hint of hesitation, but sungchan was calmer than you anticipated. instead, a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “how can you date him if you still can’t stop thinking about me.” he teased. your heart skipped a beat because, deep down, you knew he was right. thoughts of sungchan still crept into your mind, wondering what could have been if things hadn’t ended the way they did.

“that’s not true,” you protested, furrowing your brows, annoyed by the smugness in his tone.

“don’t lie to yourself, y/n. i’m the only person you think about when you touch yourself at night. am i wrong?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and laugh, brushing off the tension with a casual wave of your hand. “thinking about you doesn’t make me as wet as when i think about taesan,” you shot back.

sungchan raised his hands in mock surrender, shrugging. “whatever you say.”

gathering your resolve, you met his gaze with a steady one of your own. “i’m serious about taesan. don’t reach out to me anymore.” you offered him a final, insincere smile before turning on your heel and walking away.

back inside, your eyes scanned the room until they landed on taesan, seated with sungho at your table. taesan’s face lit up with a small grin as he watched you approach, his gaze sweeping over you with quiet adoration. “taesan,” you said softly, stopping in front of them. “will you take me home tonight?”

sungho’s eyes widened in surprise. “what?!” taesan’s smile grew, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. he glanced at sungho, a knowing look passing between them. “sungho, may i take your friend home tonight?”

“i—yeah! of course!” sungho stammered, still looking a bit bewildered.

a silent sense of anticipation filled your heart as you and taesan went hand in hand. the two of you still had a lot to work out, layers of each other that had not yet been revealed. there were many unknowns on the way ahead, but for some reason, you weren't frightened. rather, it made you excited.

you secretly hoped that taesan would be the one to firmly ground you, the one who would push you to give your all without hesitation. you had the reassuring hope that choosing him was the start of something genuinely valuable, even though the future still seemed uncertain.

please let me know your thoughts through reblogs, comments, or asks! thank you so much for reading <3

#boynextdoor #riize #boynextdoor taesan #riize sungchan #taesan x reader #sungchan x reader #boynextdoor fluff #riize fluff #taesan fluff #sungchan fluff #han taesan #jung sungchan #boynextdoor imagines #riize imagines

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nlvrr · 1 month ago

Text

ALL FOR HER | jude bellingham

summary: jude surprises his girlfriend with flowers, gifts, and a getaway to show his love and appreciation for her.

warnings: none

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

the gentle morning sun cast its golden rays through the cracks in the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. jude’s alarm buzzed faintly on his phone, but he was already awake. for once, it wasn’t his intense training schedule or match preparations occupying his mind—it was her. the love of his life. today wasn’t an anniversary or a holiday. it was a regular saturday, but jude had decided that sometimes, love deserved to be celebrated just because.

he carefully slipped out of bed, his gaze lingering on her for a moment. she was bundled under the blankets, her face partially hidden but unmistakably serene. her soft, even breaths tugged at his heart. a sleepy strand of hair fell across her cheek, and he gently brushed it aside before quietly pulling the door closed behind him.

downstairs, jude began his preparations with meticulous care. the florist in town, one he frequented to surprise her now and then, had put together the most beautiful bouquet—a mix of her favorite flowers: blush roses, soft white lilies, pink peonies, and delicate sprigs of baby’s breath. he’d remembered her saying how lilies reminded her of calm summer days, and peonies always made her smile. today, they stood proudly on their dining table in a tall, crystal vase.

next came the gifts. jude carefully unwrapped each item he’d selected: a dainty gold bracelet engraved with the date they first met, a book she’d once casually mentioned in passing, and two tickets to a luxury beachside villa he’d booked as a surprise getaway. each was nestled into its own box, wrapped in soft pastel paper with silky ribbons tied into perfect bows.

but that wasn’t enough. he wanted her to feel cherished in every way. with the help of her favorite playlist humming through the speakers, he set the mood—flickering candles lining the room, scattering soft rose petals across the table, and placing a handwritten note just beside the flowers. his handwriting was a little crooked, but the words came straight from his heart:

“to the woman who makes every day better just by being in it. this is for all the love you give me—today and always, i want to show you how deeply i treasure you.”

satisfied with the atmosphere, jude moved to the kitchen. the smell of buttery pastries wafted through the air as the croissants warmed in the oven. he arranged fresh fruit—berries, kiwi, and ripe mango—onto a small plate, added her favorite granola-topped yogurt to a dainty glass, and brewed her favorite coffee to perfection. when everything was set, he balanced the breakfast tray carefully and made his way back to the bedroom.

she stirred just as he walked in, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of jude standing by the bedside, holding a tray and grinning like he’d won a lottery. “good morning, beautiful,” he greeted, his voice warm and teasing.

her lips curved into a sleepy smile. “what’s all this?” she murmured, sitting up as he placed the tray on her lap.

“breakfast for my queen,” he replied, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “but… this is only the beginning.”

she raised an eyebrow in sleepy confusion, but jude had already stepped out of the room, beckoning her to follow when she was ready. she emerged minutes later, her hair tied up messily, still wearing his oversized hoodie. what she walked into, though, left her speechless.

the living room glowed in the soft light of candles. the table was adorned with the breathtaking bouquet of flowers, the note tucked neatly beside it. she noticed the gifts sitting atop a bed of rose petals, the playlist humming softly in the background. her hand flew to her mouth, her chest rising and falling as emotion threatened to overwhelm her.

“jude…” her voice cracked. “what… why?”

he stepped toward her, taking her trembling hands into his. “because,” he began softly, his dark eyes locking onto hers, “you’ve given me everything—your love, your patience, your support. you’ve made every single day better just by being you. i don’t tell you often enough how much that means to me. so, today, i wanted to make sure you feel how much i love and appreciate you.” his voice was gentle yet resolute, filled with unfiltered emotion.

tears shimmered in her eyes, threatening to spill as she gazed up at him. “jude, this… this is too much,” she whispered, shaking her head slightly, her voice trembling.

“it’s never too much when it comes to you,” jude said, his hands cradling her face now, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that began to fall. “you deserve every bit of it and more.”

she stood there for a moment, absorbing his words, letting them wash over her. then, without a word, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face against his chest. jude chuckled softly, resting his chin on the top of her head, letting her cling to him.

“i don’t even know what to say,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“don’t say anything,” he murmured, tilting her chin up to press a soft kiss to her lips. “just let me spoil you today.”

he led her to the table, pulling out her chair like a true gentleman. as she sat, she couldn’t stop glancing between the beautiful flowers, the perfectly chosen gifts, and the heartfelt note that still had her heart fluttering.

“open them,” jude encouraged with a playful grin, watching her every reaction.

she reached for the first box and carefully untied the ribbon. inside was the gold bracelet, its delicate engraving catching the soft glow of the candles. her fingers traced over the date as tears welled in her eyes again. “our first meeting…” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“it changed everything for me,” jude said simply, taking the bracelet and clasping it gently around her wrist. he pressed a lingering kiss to her hand afterward, his eyes filled with nothing but love.

next, she unwrapped the book, a small gasp escaping her lips. “how did you even remember this?” she asked, turning the hardcover over in her hands.

“you said you wanted it months ago,” jude shrugged casually. “i’ve had it in mind ever since.”

her heart swelled, and she shook her head in disbelief. “you don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“not when it comes to you,” he replied with a grin.

finally, her hands hovered over the last box, almost trembling as she untied the ribbon and opened the lid. inside were the plane tickets, neatly tucked into a small envelope. her eyes widened in shock as she pulled them out, reading over the details.

“jude… are these real?”

he laughed softly, taking her hands as her excitement bubbled over. “as real as us,” he teased. “i thought we could use a getaway—just the two of us. some sun, some sand, and nothing to distract us from each other.”

without hesitation, she threw her arms around him again, holding him so tightly that he stumbled slightly. her laughter was full of joy, her tears returning but now spilling for all the right reasons. “you’re too good to me,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

“you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered back, his voice firm yet tender. “i’m just trying to keep up.”

the rest of the day was spent wrapped in a haze of love and happiness. they ate breakfast together slowly, savoring not just the food but the quiet intimacy. they talked, reminisced, and shared soft kisses that seemed to stretch time itself.

later, they danced in the living room to the soft music still playing from the speakers. she laughed as jude spun her around, pulling her close at just the right moment to steal another kiss.

as the evening wore on, they curled up on the couch together, her head resting against his chest as his fingers absentmindedly played with her hair. “i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” she murmured, her voice full of emotion. “but i love you more than i can ever put into words.”

jude tilted her chin up gently, his dark eyes meeting hers. “you don’t have to put it into words,” he said softly. “i feel it in everything you do.”

he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that spoke of all the love and devotion he couldn’t express in words.

and that night, as they lay in bed with her nestled in his arms, jude held her close, listening to the soft rhythm of her breathing, a steady melody that lulled his own heartbeat into perfect sync with hers. the room was quiet now, the candles burnt low, their soft glow dancing across the walls like whispers of all the moments they had shared that day.

as she shifted slightly in her sleep, her hand naturally found its way to rest over his chest, right where his heart beat for her. jude smiled to himself, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

he thought about the journey they had taken together—their first meeting, the little milestones, the quiet nights, and the grand gestures like today. each memory was a thread woven into the tapestry of their love, vibrant and unbreakable.

in the stillness of the night, he made another silent promise to himself: no matter how far his career might take him, no matter how demanding life could become, he would always make time for moments like this.

because she was his constant. the steady presence in the whirlwind of his world.

as the night deepened and sleep began to claim him, he held her just a little tighter, whispering softly, “i love you.”

and though she was fast asleep, her lips curled into a tiny, peaceful smile, as if she knew, even in her dreams, that her heart was safe with him.

#football #football fanfic #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #real madrid #judebellingham #fanfic #jb5 x reader #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x you #jude x reader #jude bellingham fluff #footballer x you #footballer x reader #football imagine #football fic

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miley1442111 · 7 months ago

Text

reams and reactions (part 1)- r.cameron

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a/n: HELLO! welcome to my new obx series, don't worry, if you follow me for cm or anything else I'll still be posting that, but i've just been on a obx binge recently so i cooked this story up in my head.

tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader (use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))

summary: how you and rafe fell apart, then finally meet again.

warnings: drugs, drug use, drinking, parental and sibling death, kissing, crying, violence, fighting, cursing, guys being creepy, misogyny, asshole dude. (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

2k+ words

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When Rafe was 5 years old, he ran with you in the garden of Tannyhill, chasing you in a game of tag. When he finally caught up to you, you both fell to the ground, limbs tangled in the way only friends did, giggling the way only friends do, and he pressed the sweetest kiss to your cheek.

When Rafe was 8, he came sobbing at your doorstep, on the verge of throwing up. He’d run all the way there. His mom was dead. He didn’t know what else to do. Besides his mother, you were the only person you’d ever been there for him like that, showing him that emotions were ok, and normal. When he felt you hugging him, and crying with him, he knew he would be with you forever. That he would stick with you through anything.

When Rafe was 10, he came back to your house after a particularly long day (aka you had no classes together) and you two sat on your couch with your family surrounding you, Romeo and Juliet on the screen. He felt himself blush when your sister made the joke that he was like your Romeo, since your dads didn’t get on. Though you both adamantly denied it, a few minutes later he felt your hand holding his under the blanket, your matching friendship bracelet brushing off each other's skin. He was smitten. A smile landed swiftly on both of your faces.

When Rafe was 13, he watched as you walked down the aisle of his father’s second marriage, a bunch of flowers in hand. He thought you looked beautiful, you were so beautiful. The pale blue dress Rose had picked and, of course, white roses in your hand. You shot him a small smile, one he responded to by blowing you a kiss. You laughed it off and went to stand where you were meant to. Rafe’s eyes were glued to you through the entire ceremony, almost forgetting to give his dad the rings. After the ceremony, you two ran off, away from Tannyhill. You went to your ‘little cove’ as you’d call it. It was a tiny beach just beside your house, but it led into the most magnificent field full of wildflowers, insects, and tall grass. It was beautiful. You and Rafe spent the whole night there, joking and talking. Then he finally mustered up the courage to kiss you. You kissed him back, but you’d both never speak about it again, too scared to mess up your incredible decade of friendship.

When Rafe was 15, he saw you for the last time. Three months earlier you had come to him, sobbing about the fact that you were moving to California of all places. More than a day's drive away. 42 hour drive. He promised you, no, swore to you that you’d keep in touch, that you’d be there for each other even with the distance.

He was wrong. After a few months, he’d stopped texting back, stopped calling back, stopped being there for you. And he never saw you again.

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Rafe woke up with a banging headache and an uncontrollable urge to vomit but swallowed it back and took the glass of water that remained on his bedside table for days at a time. Today was going to be shit. It was the 28th of July, the day you left him, and the day his world got turned upside down. This day was always hard. He was reminded of everything he’d messed up in life. What was he now? A drug addicted, drunk, piece of shit. He was barely getting by in college and he’d already had to repeat a year twice. Often, he’d go to your little cove and sit, thinking about what you were doing now. Were you a teacher, like you’d wanted to be as a kid? Were you an artist? He remembered how good you were at sketching. Were you even alive and he’d missed the funeral? What did you look like? What colour was your hair? Did you think about him?

Everything was too loud in his mind. He grabbed a beer, and set on his way. The cove was in full bloom, a sea of colours under the boiling sun. He sat in his usual spot, the spot where you two had kissed. You two had these small chairs that Rafe barely fit in then, and definitely didn’t fit in now, so he sat beside them. What time was it? Was the sun going down? He searched in his pocket for his phone, only to find it dead.

“Excuse me?” He turned to see a girl shouting from across the field.

“Yeah?” he called back, feeling rather inconvenienced by the whole ordeal.

“Do the Cameron’s still live in Tannyhill?” She asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just an old friend, thanks!”

And she walked off. He tried to remember her physical features as best he could, but ultimately forgot them in his pursuit of washing his troubles away with the beer in his hand.

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“Y/n? Is that you?!” Sarah squealed as she leant out the window of the Twinkie.

“Sarah?” You practically ran into the road to meet her. The car was stopped at a stop-light, and she pulled you in to properly greet you.

“Oh my god! It is so good to see you!” She smiled. Despite you and Rafe’s falling out, you’d stayed in touch with Sarah, even though you were a little older than her. You even followed Wheezie on instagram and texted back and forth sometimes. But Rafe… static. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m here to teach, I just finished my 2nd year of college and I’m doing my work experience here!” You explained, as she pulled away from the hug.

“So you’re going to be here, like for the whole year?”

“Not just the whole year, I’m moving back once I'm done with my exams,” you explained. “I’m doing this programme that means I can work from here and do college from here, I’m so fucking sick of California.”

Both Sarah and Kiara squealed with excitement, and the three boys cheered. You’d been friends with the pogues, being a sort of pogue-kook hybrid.

Kiara pulled you in for a hug, then Pope, then Jj, then John B gave your hand a squeeze instead, since he was busy driving.

“So you’re back for good?” Kie asked.

“I’m back for as long as you’ll have me,” you smiled.

“We have to celebrate tonight!” Jj cheered.

“There’s a party down at Figure 8, I’m sure Y/n’s kook heritage will get us in,” Pope shrugged and you all agreed.

You spent the rest of the afternoon hanging around the pogues and Sarah and got ready at Kiara’s place for the party. Her parents welcomed you back with open arms, and then asked the dreaded question of ‘how are your parents?’

Your parents had been dead for 3 years. They’d died in an accident, and you’d been alone since then.

“They’re good,” you lied. “Working hard back in California.”

That satisfied them, and they stopped asking.

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The Figure 8 party was just how you remembered them to be. Loud, drunk, and almost too much. Even though you had been 14 at the time, Rafe had convinced you to come to one, since he was friends with some older kooks who wanted him there. Halfway through you told him you were going home, and instead of just waving you off, he brought you to your little cove, and sat with you for a couple hours. After that he brought you back to his house, and you had a sleepover.

When you’d asked him why he did that, he’d just shrugged and said ‘I prefer being around you.’

God, you could’ve married that man. You were supposed to, if your diary ‘ideal life’ had gone to plan.

Step One: Start dating Rafe

Step Two: Become highschool sweethearts and make it through college (even if it's long distance) and become a teacher!

Step Three: Work as a teacher and live on the mainland for a few years, have Rafe propose in the little cove, say yes, obviously and start wedding planning.

Step Four: Have the wedding at Tannyhill, move into a house on Figure 8 and start having kids, we’ll have 4 or 5 (Rafe wants 7 kids????? 4 or 5 is pushing it buddy), and live a long happy life as a teacher with Rafe and our family.

Step Five: Die happy.

Ok, it wasn’t exactly inspired, but come on, you were 13.

You noticed what looked like a grown version of Topper in the crowd and when he turned and saw you, a smile grew on his face. He ran over and scooped you up in a hug.

“Bun! You’re back!”

Bun was the nickname you were given as a kid because well, you liked bunnies. You had two as a kid, and for a year, you wouldn’t respond to someone unless they called you bun. It was ridiculous, but people obliged all the same. You'd never regretted anything more in your life in that moment.

“Hey Topper,” you smiled.

“Have you seen Rafe yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” you smiled slightly faltered, but you kept the smile up for good appearances. When you’d gone to Tannyhill yesterday, only Ward, Rose, and Wheezie were in, so your anxiety around seeing Rafe had grown. One day, he’d just stopped replying. Not one reason, not one apology. Nothing. One part of you wanted to say he didn’t even deserve to see you, and another missed her best friend/ supposed love of her life. “Is he around?”

“He is, but he’s high as shit,” Topper laughed. Rafe Cameron? Rafe Cameron was getting high?

“Rafe is high?”

“Oh yeah, he’s totally into all that shit now,” he laughed and you noticed the dilated pupils, the white residue on his nose, the red, irritated skin of his nose. He was high too. “It’s good shit too, you want some?”

“I’m good, just point me in Rafe’s direction,” you nodded, deeply uncomfortable with the drugs around. You’d grown up with a brother who did drugs, who’d died from drugs at the young age of 17. You didn’t want anything to do with drugs, but here you were, being led into one of the Figure 8 mansions to be led to Rafe Cameron, selling, and doing drugs.

“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” he cheered as all eyes turned to you. The group of boys cheered, getting up to give you a group hug. Rafe stayed seated.

“How’s life on the mainland Bun?How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle, trying to ignore the cocaine on the table.

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now,” you smiled as another round of cheers rippled through the group.

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan, a sleeze you remembered from school. He was always the creepy guy, trying to look up girls' skirts and play kiss-tag at the ripe old age of 12. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

You felt bile rise in your stomach as a handful of the boys laughed at the joke.

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

You froze and looked to Rafe who was looking at you through hooded eyes.

The silence was awkward, and you knew it was time to take your leave, even though you hadn’t said a word to Rafe, so you said your goodbyes and left in search of the pogues.

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“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” Topper announced as all eyes turned to you.

Holy fucking shit. You were gorgeous, and it was you. Rafe’s Y/n. Rafe’s Bun. He was shocked to see you in the Outer Banks again, let alone in person again. You were here. In front of him. Then he realised, you were here. Here, where there was cocaine on the table, and he was the one selling it. Here, where there were about three guys looking at you like you were a piece of meat. Here, where he sat at the top of the table, stoned out of his mind.

“How’s life on the mainland Bun? How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle. Rafe could see you trying to ignore the table, staring directly at Kelce, all your attention on him. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. You were his best friend before you were anyone else’s friend. He’d known you better than anyone. And here he was, silent as he watched you talk to everyone else.

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now.”

His heart almost stopped. Back in the Outer Banks, for good.

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but Rafe could tell it was playful. God, his life was so fun when you had been in it. Impromptu boat rides and trips to the mainland, spending hours just talking and laughing about nothing and everything all at the same time. He missed it. He missed you.“I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan. Rafe often wondered why he even kept him around. He could feel the awful comment coming, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

Rafe felt the anger boil in his blood the second he said it. Ryan should’ve known better than to talk about you like that.

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended, beating Rafe to it. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

Rafe stared back at you as you truly looked at him for the first time that night. He couldn’t tell how you felt, something he didn’t like. Ever since you two were kids, he could always tell how you were feeling, what you were thinking. He could always anticipate what you needed. He didn’t know now and it scared him. He just looked back into your beautiful eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the fact that you were here in front of him.

The silence was awkward and he knew it, so he didn’t protest when you took your leave, even if he wanted to. He spoke when he knew you were out of ear and eyeshot, he didn't need you know what he was about to do.

“Ryan?” he scoffed. “You have ten seconds.”

“Until what?” Ryan chuckled.

Rafe counted down the seconds in his head, Topper and Kelce became more and more uneasy as the seconds went by.

Rafe didn’t even give warning, he just got up, grabbed a nearby beer bottle, and smashed it over his head. Nobody dared to stop him, not even when he started punching Ryan, promising to kill him if he ever spoke about you like that again.

People knew not to fuck with Rafe and, even after all these years, you were an extension of Rafe. Too bad Ryan forgot that.

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron one shot #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader fluff #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader

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bryan-writes · 3 months ago

Text

Keepsakes of a hidden heart mammon x reader

Summary: you find a keepsake box hidden under Mammons bed, you find out it’s filled with things that remind him of you <3

Super fluffy, soft mammon, established relationship

Credit to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers :)

Under the gentle flicker of the low-lit room, you found yourself rifling through a small, unassuming box you’d discovered half-hidden under Mammon’s bed. It looked like it had been haphazardly shoved there, but with enough care to keep it safe from the curious eyes of any of his brothers. Immediately interested, you’d pulled it out— completely forgetting about finding your favorite hoodie (of his).

In a house filled with demons and secrets, finding something so personal felt… special. You knew mammon wasn’t one for big gestures, at least not the planned kind. But the box was a testament to something raw and real, with its unpolished appearance and lovingly held keepsakes.

The first item you pulled from the contents was a wrinkled movie ticket. You remembered that night so vividly, the way Mammon had tried to play it cool as he offered to take you out to a movie “just cause he was bored.” But you knew the truth; he’d been fidgeting, sneaking glances, trying to hide the spark in his eyes. It was an action movie— explosions and over-the-top stunts. But halfway through, Mammon’s hand had found yours, fingers fumbling a bit as if he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. He hadn’t let go until the credits rolled, and was even reluctant to let you go then. Now, as you gently held the ticket in your hands, you realized he had kept it as proof of that little victory, a reminder of the night he dared to hold your hand in the dim light of the theater.

Then there was a small, doodled note with a ridiculous caricature of Lucifer wearing glasses that Mammon had drawn in one of your many free moments in class. It was simple, silly even, but it had been you who had egged him on, whispering ideas as you both laughed quietly in the back of the lecture hall. You hadn’t noticed at the time, but Mammon must have held onto that scrap of notebook paper, like a private joke meant only for the two of you— a memory, immortalized by a poorly sketched Lucifer with eyebrows furrowed and glasses crooked.

”Hey, Y/N!” Mammon’s voice snapped you back to reality, a hint of panic coloring his tone.

Your gaze shot up to see him standing at the door, eyes wide, his cheeks flushed with a shade too bright for his usual demeanor. “What’re ya doin’ with that?” His usual bluster was there, but it sounded thin, like it was more for show than anything else.

You bit your lip, smiling softly. “I… I found this. It’s really cute, Mammon.”

Mammon fumbled, trying to snatch the box back, but you held onto it gently, pulling out a small bracelet made of cheap, colorful beads. It was slightly frayed, as if it had been through a few too many close calls. You remembered it well— Mammon had won it for you at a fair, some human world event he’d dragged you to, insisting he’d win the biggest prize. Instead, he’s managed a small, kitschy beaded bracelet, but the moment he clasped it around your wrist, he’d looked so proud.

“Why… Why do you keep these things?” You asked softly, curiosity and affection mingling in your gaze as you looked at him.

Mammon’s gaze flickered, unsure, like he was debating how much of himself he could afford to let you see. He scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but you. “I dunno,” he muttered, voice a bit rougher than usual. “S’just… they mean somethin’, ya know?”

When he finally met your gaze, there was a softness there, a vulnerability you had only ever seen in fleeting moments. He took the bracelet from your hand, rolling the beads gently between his fingers as if recalling the way your eyes had shone under the lights of the fair.

He swallowed, fingers brushing against a crumpled piece of a napkin. “This… this one from the night ya made me laugh so hard, soda came outta my nose.” A small laugh escaped his lips. “I thought I was gonna die from embarrassment, but… ya made it feel like a good memory. I… guess I wanted ta keep that.”

With every object he touched, another story unfolded. The wrinkled petal of a flower you had tucked into his hair during a spontaneous picnic. A tiny, faded polaroid picture of you two at an arcade, Mammon’s arm slung over your shoulder and you half hidden in the crook of his neck, his grin stretched wide and utterly carefree.

It was like listening to the chapter of a love story that Mammon had never found the courage to tell. In the quiet of his room, among all the bits and pieces of your shared memories, it was as though he was giving you a glimpse into his heart, wholly unguarded.

When he reached into the bottom of the box, he pulled out a little golden trinket— a small, old-fashioned key, polished and well-worn. He looked at it for a moment, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

“This… this one’s kinda stupid,” he murmured, holding it up to the dim light. “Got it ages ago. When I was a kid, I used to think it opened a door to somethin’ special. Kept it with me, hopin’ it’d mean somethin’ someday.” He hesitated, his voice lowering. “But I guess… I didn’t really find out what it opened ‘til I met ya.”

Mammon’s words hung in the air, weighty and soft. You felt your heart swell, warmth pooling in your chest as you met his eyes. He looked almost nervous, waiting for some kind of reaction, as if he were baring a piece of himself he’d never meant to show.

You smiled, reaching out to clasp his hand around the small key. “Maybe it opens the door to memories, too,” you whispered. “To all these little treasures you’ve collected along the way.”

Mammon blinked, his blush deepening as he realized how closely you held that moment between the two of you. “Ya… you’re weird, ya know that?” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. But his voice was softer now, and his hand stayed in yours a bit longer than necessary.

You sat in comfortable silence, Mammon’s hand warm against your own, fingers entwined with a gentlest that only he could muster, a soft and unexpected contrast to his usual bravado.

In that quiet moment, you understood. Love was something Mammon held onto in quiet ways— through secret boxes of treasure, hidden smiles, and worn-out trinkets that only mattered because they were tied to a memory of you.

And as he settled beside you, both pouring over every silly, precious item in his “treasure chest,” you knew that you would never really see those little memories the same again. They meant so much more to you now.

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meadowfics · 17 days ago

Text

under my care

kang sae byeok x adoptivemother!f!reader x adoptedson!kang cheol

sae byeok made you promise her one thing

warnings: angst, death, violence, the use of y/n, comforting somewhat?

part one to this fic here

before the last game you'll play during the squid games, the glass bridge, your girlfriend made you promise her one thing.

when you first joined the games, you did not expect to see that your girlfriend had the same idea as you.

both of you realized that it might be a rare chance that the both of you will make it out alive...

"please promise me one thing if I do not make it home.."

sae hesitated.

"don't say that, you will make it out of here... we will make it out of here."

"don't be unrealistic."

"sae.."

you sighed.

"jus-- just promise me.."

sae sighed. there is tiredness in her eyes, sadness even.

you frowned, knowing that your girlfriend genuinely believes that she might not make it out of here.

"just promise me that if you make it out of here with the money, and not me.. that you will take care of cheol."

you grab sae byeok's hands, squeezing them softly as she leans her head onto your shoulder.

"I can't.. since you will be the one who will get out of here."

you believed.

"y/n, please. just get cheol out of the orphanage and take care of him for me. I know that might be a lot to ask, but I'd trust him with you than with anyone else."

"I promise I will take care of him, if you can't, sae."

sae was right...

it was the four of you. sang woo, sae byeok, gi hun, and you left.

you woke up to the loud mechanical noise, still in your sweaty fancy suit with your number on it.. number 299.

gi hun had sang woo tackled and pinned down not too far away from your bunk.

you jumped up at the sight, with sang woo with a knife as he looked at you with a homicidal look.

your eyes looked ahead at the guards with a casket.. a casket that was heading towards sae.

you screamed as you ran across the warehouse, your body near falling as you saw sae byeok.. lifeless, and cut down from sang woo's knife.

the guards picked up sae byeok, and your lungs nearly collapsed from the amount of screaming coming from you.

not sae, not the love of your life!

she was NOT supposed to be right about not leaving here.

"you FUCKER!" you screamed towards sang woo..

it was clear that sang woo was not going to go after you.. when gi hun ran over to stop you from approaching sang woo.

"you should've killed me and not her you fucking bastard! she was supposed to take care of cheol, not me!"

you cried, trembling as you watched sae leave inside of that casket.

gi hun and you got out of the games alive.

he spared your life.. choosing the split the 45.6 billion between the both of you instead of killing you.

you had 22.8 billion won (15million usd) in your accounts.. way more than enough to pay off your debts and live comfortably.

after you paid off your debt, your legs took you straight to the orphanage.

the orphanage that had cheol.

first meeting cheol, you looked at him as he flipped through the reading journal that he owned.

the boy was kind, and quiet, just like his sister.

your heart ached, and you fought with your entire strength to not cry about sae byeok in front of him.

he does not know of his sister's fate, and you do not know if you will tell him right now.

one thing sae gave you a few years ago was a pink beaded bracelet that she got back home in north korea..

"I had a friend smuggle this from china, I want you to have it, you will look beautiful with it."

sae byeok wore that bracelet everyday before she gave it to you.

so, when cheol looked down at your wrist and saw that same bracelet.. a light flickered inside of his eyes.

"you knew my sister?"

you swallowed, holding back your tears.

"yes, I did. she was one of my... good friends."

you somewhat lied, not knowing if sae ever told him about her sexuality.

"where is she?"

a tear left your eye, but you quickly wiped it with your jacket sleeve before cheol noticed.

"she went away for a little while. sae asked me to take care of you."

so you did.

moving out of your old apartment, you got a nice penthouse in the nice area of seoul.

you paid to send cheol to a nice school as well, wanting the best for him... like you wished sae had.

you got the boy the nicest items, and made sure that he was cared for.

little did cheol know, you cried every single night looking at a portrait of you and his older sister, together at a park just eight months before the games.

sae smiled in the picture, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as your head was buried into her neck.

the both of you had many problems then, but you'd take sae back over any financial stability.

over two years passed.

for just two days, you left and came back after visiting family outside of the city.

you trusted cheol to be alone for those two days, since the boy is trustworthy.

however, you dropped your bags at the sight of a sobbing cheol in the living room.

you ran over to him, crouching down to his level as you held him close.

"whats wrong, cheol?"

you didn't tell cheol, but you've been working hard to get the rest of his and sae's family out of north korea.

the brokers are trying their hardest to locate them..

sae did not ask you to do this if she passed, but you know that this is what she would have done if she survived instead of you.

"when were you going to tell me that sae byeok is dead?"

your heart nearly stopped..

"what do you mean?"

"I heard you on the phone with somebody before you left, you said that sae was no longer here.. where is she?"

cheol yelped.

you were on the phone with gi hun.. who asked if you were okay since sae left the earth a few years ago.. you still are not.

"cheol, I- I am not allowed to say anything.. I'm so sorry."

you could only say.. how were you supposed to tell sae's thirteen year old brother about her homicide due to winning games for money?

cheol resented you for a while, but once he turned sixteen.. it seemed like he accepted his sister's fate.

he figured out how close you and his sister were too, that you were in fact his sister's girlfriend (and not just her bestfriend) before her passing.

he always asked you how she treated you.

"she was the perfect person, cheol."

"I agree."

cheol was always grateful that you decided to take care of him.

the teenager always had high grades in school, and might enroll at a university once he graduates.

cheol's struggles with kids at school due to being north korean, however, he cherishes due to his family.

at this point, you were his family too.

"does sae know that you took me in?"

cheol asks.

"she does."

"do you regret it?"

cheol laughs, jokingly.

"never, I'm glad to have you in my life cheol. you're like the son or little brother that I never had."

you smiled lightly.

"do I remind you of sae?"

"you do, you have her humor and soft spoke voice."

you frown, missing sae byeok.

its 2029.. and you and gi hun were present at cheol's graduation.

well, it was you. until, gi hun surprised you with his presence.

"gi hun, you're alive?"

the last time you talked to him.. he ended up in the games again.

you were scared shitless. in fact, you almost left cheol to go find gi hun.

however, gi hun's friend.. hwang jun ho.. said that gi hun did not want you involved in this.

so, you stayed back knowing that cheol could not lose another person in his life. not again.

"I am. I just got back from america after watching my daughter's high school graduation."

"so what brought you here? you should be with your daughter.."

"well.. you aren't the only person that promised sae byeok something.."

your eyebrows flared at the older man.

"what do you mean?"

gi hun smiled lightly, looking ahead at the students wearing their graduation uniforms.

he can spot cheol, with a smile on his face as he talks to a friend sitting beside him.

"sae made me promise to make sure that you and cheol were always protected.. it was shortly after she made you promise to take care of the boy."

your mouth is hung slightly, you are not surprised as you should be.

of course sae would be looking out for you, even in her death.

"I miss her everyday, gi hun."

a tear escapes your eyes.

"its been eight years.. I don't know if I will ever get over her."

"she loved you so much, y/n."

gi hun comforted you.

"you are doing the biggest act of love possible, by raising her younger brother when she couldn't be here to do it. I am not someone who believes in religion or spiritual shit, but I bet she's here right now, watching him walk the stage with you."

a/n: I hope you loved this. I cried like a baby while writing most of this.. man bring back sae byeok :(

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starmatzz · 18 days ago

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𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐚𝐧🎱

Choi San x fem!reader | smut

tags

ceo!san, non idol!san, teasing, backshots, vaginal sex, humiliating, pet names, creampie, cum, fem!reader, imagines, y/n

The evening was quiet, intimate, just the way San liked it. Being the CEO of one of Seoul’s most successful companies meant his life was a constant whirlwind of meetings, deals, and public appearances. Tonight, though, he reserved his time solely for you.

San had planned everything to perfection, as he always did. He knew how much you enjoyed spending time together doing simple things, and he wanted this night to feel special. That’s why he’d reserved a private billiard playroom in one of the city’s most exclusive lounges, far from prying eyes. It was the kind of luxury only someone like San could effortlessly afford. The polished mahogany table gleamed under the soft, golden lighting, and a chilled bottle of the finest champagne sat on the table, two elegant glasses beside it

You felt the cool champagne glass in your hand as you leaned against the edge of the billiard table, your legs crossed just enough to highlight the curve of your figure. The black dress you wore clung to your body, ending daringly right beneath your thighs, the hem brushing against your skin whenever you shifted. It was bold, sultry, and perfectly complemented by the matching black heels that made your legs seem endless.

The jewelry you wore sparkled in the low light—an exquisite diamond necklace and bracelet set that San had gifted you just last month. He always insisted on spoiling you, saying that someone as beautiful as you deserved nothing less. Tonight, they added a layer of elegance to your outfit, the delicate stones glinting whenever you moved.

San’s eyes flicked over to you as he lined up his next shot, and his lips curved into a slight smirk. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you’re making it very hard to focus on this game.”

You arched a brow, setting your glass down on the table. “Are you saying I’m distracting you?”

“I’m saying you look incredible,” he replied smoothly, straightening up and leaning his cue stick against the table. His gaze traveled from your legs, over your hips and chest to your face. “Your turn, darling.”

With the cue stick in hand, you stepped up to the table, determined to at least give San a run for his money. You positioned yourself carefully, bending over the billiard table to line up your shot. The fabric of your black dress shifted slightly as you leaned forward, and you couldn’t ignore the way San’s gaze lingered on you. You could feel it, warm and intense, tracing over every curve like a silent compliment.

The weight of his eyes, paired with the subtle smirk you knew he was wearing, had your mind spinning. You took the shot, the cue ball gliding across the table with a satisfying click—only to narrowly miss the pocket.

A soft laugh escaped San’s lips, the rich sound breaking the silence. “Distracted?” he teased, pushing off from where he’d been leaning.

You straightened, biting your lip as you glanced at him. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and he was already pouring himself another glass of champagne, looking every bit as confident as you’d expected. “I wasn’t distracted,” you lied, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you.

San stepped closer, holding the glass out to you as he studied you with a knowing expression. “Oh, really? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you miss by that much.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, walking past him to have another sip of the champagne.

San chuckled, stepping back and picking up his cue stick. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said with a grin, lining up his own shot. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

And as he effortlessly sank the ball into the pocket, he turned around with a satisfied grin on his face.

It was your turn again, and you refused to let yourself get distracted this time. Gripping the cue stick, you leaned over the table, carefully lining up your shot. The soft hum of jazz in the background couldn’t drown out the sound of San’s footsteps as he approached.

“Let me help you,” he said smoothly, his voice low and teasing as he stopped behind you.

Before you could respond, you felt his hands gently rest on your waist, steadying you. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, all thoughts of the game disappeared. You felt his crotch press against your ass, and couldn't notice how hard was he getting.

“San,” you murmured, your voice wavering slightly.

“Shh,” he said, his lips curving into a grin you couldn’t see but could feel in the way he leaned closer. His breath tickled the back of your neck as he adjusted your posture, his hands sliding down to guide your arms. “You’re too stiff. Relax for me.”

Easier said than done when he was standing so close, pressing against you, his presence intoxicating. You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the table, but his scent—fresh, clean, with a hint of something dark and expensive—was utterly distracting.

He shifted slightly, pressing just close enough for you to feel the heat of him against your back. “Now,” he murmured, guiding your hands on the cue stick, “pull back slowly, like this…” His deep voice was almost a whisper, his tone dripping with confidence as he positioned you perfectly.

You could barely concentrate, your pulse racing as his hands lingered just a second longer than necessary. “Okay,” you managed to say, your voice quieter than you intended.

With San’s help, you took the shot, the cue ball gliding across the table and sinking perfectly into the pocket.

“See? You’ve got it,” he said, his voice tinged with pride. But he didn’t move away, staying close as his hands rested lightly on your hips.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze over your shoulder. His dark eyes were filled with that familiar mix of mischief and desire, and your breath caught in your throat. “I think you’re more distracting than helpful,” you said, trying to sound playful despite the fluttering in your chest.

San chuckled softly, his lips curving into a smirk. “Maybe. But you didn’t miss this time, did you?”

You shook your head, wanting to walk away to create some space for your boyfriend's turn. But as soon as you tried to move, the grip on your waist tightened.

“Stay.” he ordered deeply, dragging his lips against your neck.

You didn't understand, breathing heavily while being squished between the edge of the billiard table and San.

“B-But..it's your turn to play now.”

“I know, love,” he chuckled, his hands sneaking under your dress, “but I wanna play with something else now, or should I say with someone else?”

His hands roamed over your curves, distracting you so much you couldn't think straight.

Suddenly, he grabbed the cue stick from your hands. Few seconds later, you felt the thicker end of the stick between your legs, rubbing back and forth.

You let out a small whine, grinding against the wood. It might've looked weird, but you didn't care at the moment.

Neither of you did.

“Bend over for me, darling,” He whispered.

“Here..?” You looked around the lounge, your heart picking up pace.

But San didn't give you any answer, which meant that you had no choice. You simply had to obey.

With a shaky exhale, you leaned over the edge of the table, your dress riding up even more.

“So beautiful..” San murmured, pulling your panties to the side, “don't make any noise, okay? Don't wanna distract the players in the next room, do we?” he whispered, lining his already hard cock with your dripping hole.

“Or do,” he chuckled, grabbing your hips as he pushed himself inside in one swift motion, “let everyone know how much you love this dick.”

You gasped, digging your nails into the green lining of the billiard table.

San took his time, moving inside you with slow, lazy thrusts. He felt incredible, and you knew he was aware of it too.

You arched your back, pushing against him as it allowed him to fuck into you even deeper.

One of his hands abandoned your waist, covering your mouth instead. Your moans turned muffled, eyes rolling back as San repeatedly hit the sweet spot.

“You're so fucking wet,” he groaned, gripping your waist tightly. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room, mixing with the soft tones of jazz coming from the speakers.

You whined into his hand as his pace got quicker. Your body jerked forward with every thrust, gasping when San's hand slapped your ass.

“My pretty slut,” he moaned, throwing his head back. You knew he was getting close, as his thrust became uncoordinated and jerky. “Gonna fill you up.”

It didn't take long and he thrusted in for the last time, staying buried deep inside you. Your eyes rolled back, biting your lip as your body trembled.

San leaned forward over your body, still moving inside you slowly through his orgasm.

“Such a good girl for me.”

And with that he pulled out, politely fixing your panties like nothing happened.

He kissed the back of your head before standing up straight and slapping your ass.

“Your turn to play, darling.”

The rest of the game, you and San kept exchanging looks full of love, while you were trying to ignore the cum slowly leaking out of you.

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elysiumsasylum · 2 months ago

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What’s it like to date Sebastian Solace? - before and After the Blacksite incident! My headcanons SFW

Before the Incident -

He has definitely drafted some ideas for matching tattoos for both of you. Like there are pages in a sketchbook dedicated to the idea. Is he a little obsessed with the idea? Yes.

He draws you in that same sketchbook, mainly when you aren’t paying attention. He really enjoys drawing your jawline. There are a few pictures that are colored in watercolor or colored pencils.

There are songs written in his notebooks dedicated to you, however, most of them are scrapped and have never seen the light of day again. If you find them, he will burn them. Then deny and say you were making it up.

He probably wears the promise ring to the both of you around his neck with a chain and a lock.

He paints his nails with you if you request it.

He often brings extras of his mother’s cooking to bring to you. (Paying his older sister for those extras at her own expense)

You are his Backpack (on a bike I think he would have, motorbike or not)

He lends you his rings, necklaces, and bracelets too. Even if you don’t follow his grunge aesthetics, he still shares with you. (If his rings don’t fit you that’s fine, he has extras in smaller/bigger sizes just for you)

He has an album on his phone dedicated to photos of you. And of him too of course. There are selfies of you on dates, he covered in your lipstick (if you wear it) photos of you smiling, videos reacting to the gifts he got you, your face bright red from food that was way too spicy for you.

After the incident -

There would be a massive personality shift. If you are an expendable, his sarcasm wouldn’t be to be laughed at, but to shield himself from you.

As an expendable, he would hide his file from your prying eyes. To him, he wouldn't want you seeing the stuff UrbanShade had done to him. You being trapped there was more than enough. To him, at least.

DISCOUNTS!!!! /j (/hj)

After you find out everything, he is immediately colder to you, for a time. But after a while, he really just missed your touch. You cup his face? He is bawling in your hands. Like a fountain of tears has just been released. Years of pain and anguish are allowed to finally be unbottled.

He tells p.AI.nter to leave you alone and even protects you from wall dwellers. You were his everything before the incident and are still his everything now.

He will fight Pande for you. I am not kidding. It is possible, and he will.

He tries his best to keep you well-fed, going days without the usual nourishment so you can keep going.

You are treated like you are made of glass.

He may lay his head on you, but that's really it. Most of the time he is holding you to his chest. It's the best way that he can really ensure that you are safe while he sleeps.

A/N: I love this man. So much. Oh my god. This was very very very self-indulgent. No, I'm not sorry. Yes, the sparkles are necessary. I just love this stupid fuck. Also! I wasn't expecting my first official post to blow up! So thank you for the support!!

#elysium’s writing #elysiumsasylum #sebastian solace #monster boyfriend #sebastian pressure #pressure #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace pressure #sebastian solace roblox

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ririblogsss · 10 months ago

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Danny in central City pt2

part 1

Danny is chilling in the dorms rooftop again, when he feels a very powerful gust off wind. Looking to the side he finds impulse the local teen hero of Central City. Danny only nods his way and mutters that the stars look very pretty tonight. Impulse manages to hear him and looks up, but the night sky isn't visible because of all the light pollution. Super-eyesight he notes it down In his brain. Impulse asks for his name while he sits down besides him Danny responds meekly.

The silence is so loud even though there's cars and overall noise of the city. Their science is tense. Danny thinks that one wrong move and he'll get handed to the GIW for experimentation and extermination. Impulse is thinking of the best way to approach Danny without spooking him away.

In the end Danny decides to break the silence, as he's always hated awkward silences and feels the need to constantly talk in order to make it feel less tense."Did you know hot ice exists? yeah like about 33 light-years away is an exoplanet called Gliese 436 b. The planet is composed of different water elements, which form burning ice, so in essence there is a thing that is hot ice" Danny just continues to ramble all the facts he learn past midnight during high school. Hoping that impulse would just get tiered of him or get called back by whoever is behind the coms. But it doesn't happen Impulse lays next to him looking up at the sky listening to him ramble making humming noises and nods to show he is listening.

Danny doesn't know what to do he's running out of topics and facts fast and its not like he can just leave. So Danny does what anyone that's in the same type of situation does, he starts trauma dumping on accident. Well Dannys not sure its trauma dumping it has nothing to do with his half death or ghost or really anything after his 13 th birthday.

"You know my parents have a lab in our basement" Impulse chokes on air but Danny continues on "yeah its pretty cool when I was 4 I was allowed to go in and experiment with all the substances along as my older sister was there" Impulse face, or what Danny can see of it looks contorted in a grimace/sad look, so Danny immediately tries to back track."Wait wait that sounds like I was in danger, I wasn't I only made mustard gas twice before I learned all the components that made It and made sure to never mix them, and I only burned my hand 6 times with the surface mix lamp, and I got pretty good at using it. look see this" Danny holds out his wrist with an intricate bracelet made out of glass, it has green, blue and black accents on it swirling. "WAIT you made that, brUHHH that's amazing likeomgyoucouldsellthisiwouldbuythisitssocool......." Danny had to strain his ears in order to fully understand what impulse was saying as he went on a tangent about how cool the bracelet was.

"Here" Danny says holding out the bracelet, Impulse blanches and tries to refuse saying that he doesn't need it or whatever but Danny is stubborn he keeps holding out the bracelet unrelenting until impulse takes it and puts it on. "Consider it a gist from a fan and a thank you for sitting with me and listening to me ramble about space" Then Danny stands up stretching himself and starts heading towards the stair case. Leaving a dumbfounded impulse behind.

Danny hears a whisper of 'What the fuck' before he hears the distinct break of air that only comes from speedsters running off.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover

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chlix · 6 months ago

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hello christ? i'm 'bout to sin again

vampire! chan x fem! reader: you're a blood donor for wealthy vampires in need of willing victims. it's possible you like your job a little too much

genre: fluff, smut (MDNI)

word count: 6.4k

warnings/tags: oral sex (fem receiving), blood drinking, unsafe sex, seriously like don't do this it's so unsanitary

a/n: i've literally never written smut so i was hesitant to post this, but i liked the idea and i had fun writing it so here it is anyway. i used the name "hyunji" bc this fic only made sense in my brain in third person, but feel free to substitute that name for your own!

Hyunji steels herself as the car she’s in pulls up to the restaurant. It’s an upscale place, with tall glass windows and expertly pruned landscaping on the circle drive. Small light fixtures are placed along edges and curves that make the already tall building exterior look even taller in the evening light. Hyunji has been to some upscale places, but nothing like this. Then again, she’s never had a client exactly like this either. She needs to be on her best behavior.

"He's a bit particular," the woman at the agency told her earlier on the phone. "He's been through a handful of our donors this month alone. I’ve received no complaints from any of them, any everyone was paid well above our rates, but none were asked for a second appointment. I can't give you any pointers for what they did wrong."

If the only consequence of the night going wrong is that Hyunji goes home with a fat paycheck and continues her job search, she’ll consider the evening a success. Sometimes donors are stiffed of their pay entirely or treated like walking bags of meat rather than people offering a service. Sometimes girls don’t come back at all.

That’s the way it goes when you’re dealing with vampires.

But Hyunji loves a challenge, and she'd already signed a liability waiver when she was put on the registry, so she'd accepted the details of the meeting and started getting ready. She’s wearing a black long-sleeved dress with a slit high enough to reveal a good amount of thigh even when she stands. The neckline is low, and the collar frames her collarbone enticingly. No necklaces, no earrings, but a single silver bracelet. She wants to look inviting; not so much done up as...put together. Polished. She doesn’t want to look like an easy meal. Hyunji knows from experience that vampires also like challenge more often than not.

She exits the car and tips the driver in cash and walks up to the restuarant with her coat wrapped around herself and her purse in hand. She approaches the maître d’ with a practiced smile on her face, and he greets her with a polite bow.

"Hello," she greets. "Reservation for Bang?"

The maître d’ calls over another attendant, who leads her to a small room off from the main dining room. A private area. Inside are a few tables spaced far enough apart that they fade away in the low lighting. In the far corner, a man sits staring at the wall, tapping idly at his plate. He has dark hair that’s gelled away from his face, and pink, plush lips. He’s wearing a suit, but Hyunji can tell that there’s muscles under it just from the way he holds his body. His eyes are a bright, unnatural blue. Even at first glance, in this dim room, Hyunji can see that he’s breathtakingly handsome. Of course, that's nothing new. Most vampires are. It’s kind of the whole point.

"Mr. Bang," the attendant says quietly. "Your guest has arrived."

The man turns to look at them, sitting up properly as he does. He gave the attendant a staged smile of his own. "Thank you very much, Sohyeon. We'll call when we're ready."

The attendant- Seohyeon- bows and leaves.

"Please, take a seat” he says, and Hyunji removes her coat and sets it on the chair, then sits down herself.

"I hope you aren't too nervous," he says. "But I thought it might be better for us to discuss these things in relative privacy."

"I'm not nervous. I appreciate the consideration."

He nods. "I'm Bang Chan. Though I suppose you already know that."

Hyunji had suspected, but it's not as if vampires are keen on photography. He could be Chan's assistant, or his errand boy. It isn’t uncommon for initial meetings like this, especially with vampires of such high stature.

"I'm Son Hyunji," she says. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise."

"Can I say, I'm a bit surprised you came in person?"

Chan's smile turns a bit wry. "Well, I prefer to make my own decisions about these sorts of things. It's not that I don't trust the other members of my coven. It's just that matters like this are a bit...personal. You understand."

"I do."

"I'm sure they gave you the rundown of my history with your agency. I hope being a frequent user isn’t a mark against me."

Chan doesn’t seem to be overly invested in the theatrics of all this, so Hyunji decides to be frank.

"They didn't give me many details. I was only told that all the girls were sent home unharmed. In this business, that's a victory."

"That's a generous outlook."

"Of course I'm generous. I'm offering my blood."

Chan cracks a smile, and some of the severity in the places of his face eked away. "That you are. I assume you came prepared today ready to be bitten?"

"If the negotiations go well, then yes, I'm prepared."

"Well, then I'll be on my best behavior," Chan said. "And I should probably get you something to eat."

He must press some button under his table, because Seohyeon reappears, ready to assist.

"Do you mind if I order for you?" he asks.

"Not at all." It isn’t uncommon. Diet has an impact on the taste of the blood, and every client has a preference. For her last position, Hyunji had found herself eating much more meat than she normally did and had to pick up running as a hobby to help with indigestion. At another job, she'd been overfed sugar, as if being fattened by a witch. Both of those had been a pain; it had been difficult to maintain her figure when she was practically being force-fed.

Chan, however, orders her a simple vegetable dish and a glass of water, along with a platter of cut exotic fruits.

"You'll need carbohydrates," he says simply. Hyunji simply nods. She can handle being grass-fed. It might even help her cholesterol levels.

Seohyeon leaves to submit their orders and returns later with a single crystalline glass. She doesn’t even attempt to set a glass or plate in front of Chan.

"You have meetings like this here often, then?" she asks.

"I do. I have high regard for their discretion."

"And here I thought I was special," Hyunji jokes, hoping to see that small smile again and being gratified when she receives it.

"Somehow I can tell that you are, regardless of my behavior."

Hyunji sips her drink for a moment, and they sit in amicable silence. Her weakness when it comes to meetings like this is her urge to fill space. She tends to talk when she's nervous, trying too hard to sell herself. She knows better than most that vampires are not a monolith, but generally speaking, they have a much higher tolerance for discomfort that most humans. They value solitude and caution. Hyunji tries to mirror this as best she can, to appear thoughtful, controlled. This too is also a test of her resolve. She can't seem like she would be easy to take advantage of. It’s a matter of life and death.

"Do you have any questions for me?" she finally asks. "You must have some harsh requirements, if no other girls have lasted more than a day."

Chan shrugs. "Sometimes people are incompatible."

"So cryptic. Is decoding your words part of the test?"

"I don't try to be cryptic. It might be hard to believe, but I'm not naturally inclined towards this sort of thing. I find these meetings awkward and artificial."

That's interesting. Hyunji sets her glass of water down. "Artificial, huh? I don't seem genuine to you?"

"It's not you, it's... all of this. The agency, the meeting, the negotiations. It just...gives me a bit of a headache."

"Would you rather chase me as I run screaming down the street?" she asks. "It wouldn't be the strangest thing asked of me."

Chan's eyes widen, caught off guard. "Someone's asked you for that?"

"Yes. I said no, of course."

Chan shakes himself out of his disbelief. "Good. I mean, not good that someone asked you that, but good that you refused. That's horrible."

Hyunji hums. "Part of the job."

"I've heard a bit about it..." he murmurs, then looks directly at Hyunji, voice resolved, focused. "I should have said this when you came in, but you're under no obligation to stay here. At any point in the night you can leave. You won't be harmed, and you'll be compensated for your time. I never want you to feel like you're trapped here with me, whether that be literally, socially, or financially." He seems to want to stop speaking, but continues, "This is what I mean by artificial. If you're in my employ, I feel as if I rob you of safety. It's not a position I enjoy being in."

This is such an unexpected turn of events. Hyunji had always assumed having power over their donors, even if it was just for show, was part of the fun. Yes, her official job is "blood donor," but in practice, she supposes most of her jobs boil down to "consensual victim." She shows up at a designated location after eating and drinking what she’s told, wearing what she’s told to wear, and is bitten. She tells nobody what she’s doing, and her clients often leave as soon as they are finished with her. But Chan says that all those things make him uncomfortable. He only wants her blood.

It’s fascinating. And too good of an opportunity to pass up.

"Is that why you switch donors so frequently?" she asks. "You feel as if you're taking advantage of them?"

Chan's lips twitch. "A futile attempt at damage control, I'll admit."

"It's noble," she says, and she truly means it. "It means a lot to me to hear you say that." She’s silent for another moment, debating. "I doubt this will ease your worries, but I don't do this job as a primary source of income. I'm actually quite well-off. And I didn't get roped into this young and have some traumatic past tied to it. I'd never even met one of your kind until I took my first client, after I graduated college. If you think I'm bluffing, I can show you my bank statements. So being your regular donor wouldn't be you taking advantage of me. I could quit any time I wanted without a second thought."

"I did think you'd done this a few times. Back in your home country?”

"And a few here and there before you. Nothing permanent. I didn't like how they talked to me, so I quit. I would give their names, but y'know. Donor-client privilege."

"Then why do you do this job, if not for the money?"

She smiles. "Because I love it. Didn't I say I was generous?"

"Venom junkie," Chan says in a resigned tone.

"I'm semi-immune, actually," Hyunji corrects. "And I'm not sugarcoating it. I love helping people. I make new blood all the time, so it's not really a loss for me. And even when my clients aren't as wealthy as you seem to be, I still get to have new experiences and try new things. I'm a foreigner, y'know. It's hard to make friends in South Korea." She grins as she leans forward on the table, looking Chan very pointedly up and down. "Also, not to be crass, but getting my blood sucked is so fucking hot. It gets me going every single time."

Chan looks at her, face drawn in surprise but in a different way than before. He’s so hard to read, too practiced and trained at impassivity, but he isn’t leaning away from her, so it's possible she hasn’t made any errors so large she couldn't correct them later in the night. He'd wanted her to be genuine? Well, this is as genuine as she can get.

Seohyeon returns then, carrying Hyunji's meal and a pitcher of water to refill her glass.

"Leave the pitcher, Seohyeon," Chan says, eyes still fixed on Hyunji. "I don't want to bother you too much. We'll be a while."

Hyunji allows a cheshire grin to overtake her features. She picks up her fork and pops a kumquat into her mouth with obvious glee, relishing the way Chan watches the slide of it all the way down her dark, exposed throat.

They continue their conversation as Hyunji finishes eating. He's not as closed off as he was initially, and Hyunji finds that he's a fairly good conversationalist. His voice is calm and rich, and when he's not trying to fit into the role of "mysterious vampire" he's fairly straightforward about his account of events and memories. As a plus, he seems genuinely interested in her life, or at least the limited parts she tells him. He keeps eye contact with her and asks clarifying questions. When she politely declines to elaborate, he doesn't pry. It's a pleasant change of pace from her usual first meetings, and she has a feeling it is for him too, if his body language is anything to judge by.

The topics stray away from the topic of their meeting, talking more about the facts of their lives and relations, but the charged environment from Hyunji's declaration doesn't dissipate. If anything, it only gets stronger as the night wears on, and Hyunji notices Chan become a bit twitchier, glancing more often at the door behind Hyunji, or at the watch on his wrist. As soon as she’s finished the last bite of her food, Seohyeon reappears, summoned by that elusive button once again. She's already holding the check in hand, and Chan signs it without even looking at it and hands it back to her.

"Shall we go?" he asks. Hyunji nods.

"Thank you very much, Seohyeon. You were great tonight as always."

Seohyun bows politely, but when her eyes meet Hyunji's, she winks. It catches Hyunji off-guard, but quickly enough she's able to return with a genuine smile and a bow of her own. Seohyeon must be the attendant who always serves Chan at meetings like this. It's nice to know that she doesn't think less of Hyunji for being here, or perhaps that she's even rooting for Hyunji to catch him for good. From her high spirits, Chan must also be a good tipper, which is a point in his favor. She finds that she really is starting to like the guy. She already suspected he was decent enough for paying his donors well, but she's pleasantly surprised to find he seems to be an all-around stand-up guy, which is good. Hyunji doesn't like to overstate her importance to her clients, but she does sometimes have qualms about aiding in the continued existence of assholes.

Hyunji gets up, puts her coat back on, and grabs her purse. Chan extends his elbow to her, and she wraps her hand around his arm, jolting a bit when she feels the breadth of muscle hidden under his suit jacket. He leads her out of the room and out to the front, where he calls the valet to bring his car around.

"No driver?" she asks, half-joking, but all Chan says is, "He has the night off."

Money money. It's even more impressive than the private seating.

The drive is short but quiet. Hyunji lets the water settle in her stomach and lets Chan focus on driving. She isn't trying too hard to memorize the route. She doubts he's going to take her to some wizened alley and drink her dry. And if he does, well, at least she’s had a good night before she goes.

They arrive at an upscale hotel after only a few minutes. The car is valeted again, and she once again holds on to his elbow as they walk to the front desk and Chan asks for a room. The fact that he didn't set this room up beforehand is even more gratifying to her. It feels like winning. She's going to get dinner and a show. It's her ideal evening.

Chan hands her one the key cards and they go to the elevator. His hand resting on hers is heavy, and not particularly cold. Up close, she can see the pink of his lips and cheeks is not makeup, which means he's nowhere close to starving. He just wanted to have her that bad.

This is what she loves about it, truly. The power over the vamps who dine on her. The juxaposition almost has her feeling heady.

When they get to the room, Hyunji excuses herself immediately to the bathroom, as the water she drank has finally caught up with her. When she's finished, she looks at herself in the mirror as she washes and dries her hands, making sure everything about her is still in place. It's not that she thinks Chan would care, persay. But she's sure he'll get more satisfaction from ruining her himself.

She exits the bathroom and closes the door behind herself, so she's standing before Chan, shoes and coat gone. He's sitting on the bed, and his suit jacket is discarded, giving her a clear view of his broad shoulders and large chest. He eyes her hungrily, looking her up and down with no apology, and Hyunji doesn't even care if he's thirsty for her blood or for her flesh. She'd be happy with either.

Vampires being hot is a part of the gag, true, but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy it while she's here.

"So," she asks, still standing a respectful distance away from him. "Feeling thirsty?"

Chan lets out a little laugh. "Honestly? You have no idea."

A little thrill goes through her at the rasp in his voice.

Still, honorable as he is, he offers her one last out. "If you don't want to do this, I can leave right now. I'll give you your pay and you can stay in the room. I don't expect anything out of you."

"I know," Hyunji says. "And again, I appreciate the out. But I want this. I consent to donating to you tonight."

Chan lets out a long breath and beckons her closer. She follows, walking slowly, and when she meets the bed, she crawls onto it so that she's on her knees in front of him.

"Where would you like me to take from?" he asks.

"Wherever you want," she says. "If you're uncomfortable, you can take from my wrist. But I wore this dress for easy access. Both to my neck and my thigh."

"You really weren't kidding about thinking this is sexy," he says, breathless, like he can't believe it.

"Do you live on planet earth? Everyone thinks vampires are sexy. A lot of people are just also cowards. But I'm not. And I don't think you're going to bleed my dry and leave my husk in this hotel room, are you?"

Chan shakes his head no.

"Then what's to be scared of? Is it a crime to enjoy my job?"

Chan lets out a low breath, almost like a laugh. "You're something else, aren't you?"

"I guess I am." She leans back a little, pulling herself back into her composure. "But as I said, this is meant to be enjoyable for us both. If you'd like to just drink from my wrist and leave, that's completely fine. It's not like I go around fucking all my clients. I'm capable of being professional."

"I feel like we crossed the line from professional a while ago," Chan says. "Which is my fault as much as it's yours."

Good. She was worried she'd been coming on far too strong.

"So what's the plan?" she asks again. "How do you want me?"

Chan's fingers twitched again as he scanned her up and down. "Can I touch you?" he asks.

"Yes."

In an instant, Hyunji is flat on her back, and Chan is above her, boring down on her. Her heart rate goes crazy, seeing those eyes in the shadows, the eyes of a predator. They look electric blue, hypnotic.

"I'm going to hold you right here, and you're not going to look at anyone except me," he says, his voice lower than before. "I'm going to suck your blood. And then I'm going to eat you out." His hands tighten around her wrists, and she sees the veins in his neck pop and oh god, oh god-

He's waiting for an answer, ever the gentleman. She swallows harshly and says. "Be my guest, Mr. Bang."

Chan leans down and connects their lips.

Just like she'd gathered from his hands, he's warm. Over the years, she'd gotten used to the colder body temperature of vampires, about the uncanniness of how they feel against her. She associates it now with being part of the experience, and can look past it, especially when her client is this good-looking. But here it's barely an issue. Their lips press together, and it's almost like kissing a human. As long as she doesn't think about the fact that she can't feel a heartbeat even though he's less than an inch away from her.

He licks into her mouth, and she lets him, opening her mouth wide and swallowing her gasps. Heat is spreading through her, arousal swelling all her blood vessels, and she knows the moment he smells it from how his grip tightens even further, from the growl deep in his throat. His lips trail down from her mouth to her neck, and she leans her head back to expose it more fully. She's sure he can see her heartbeat in her carotid from the way her blood rushes in her ears.

"You smell...so fucking good," he says in between heavy breaths. "Even in the restuarant...you were driving me crazy."

He sucks at Hyunji's neck, and she moans, hands straining as she tries to arch up. One of his hands releases hers and comes to grip her jaw, pushing her head to the side as he zeroes in on her neck. She can hear a deep rumbling in his chest, like a cat gearing up to pounce. She can't see his eyes, but she knows they must be dilated to black pools.

"Last chance to back out," he murmurs, lips millimeters from Hyunji's skin.

"Bite me," she says.

She sucks in a breath as his lips graze her skin. Then he bites down.

Hyunji knows that she's semi-immune to venom. She has the doctor's notes to prove it, and the experience with vampires to believe them. But there might be some truth to Chan saying she's a venom junkie anyway, because the initial bite alone is orgasmic. Her mouth drops open, her body stiffening and arching under him as she sucks in a quick breath. The smell of her own blood fills her senses, the familiar ochre and iron wafting around them hypnotically, and her thoughts zero in on the feeling of Chan pressed to her neck, of his large mouthfuls, the iron grip he has on her, as if she would even dare struggle.

She knows she tastes better when she's aroused, but it also feels better when she's willing. And oh, god is she willing. For a moment it feels like she's never wanted anything more.

Chan drinks greedily, completely at odds with the composure he's been maintaining the whole evening. It's so satisfying she thinks she might just cum again from the way he's pulling at her, the way he obviously wants her so badly it's taking all his self-control not to rip her apart. And what a way to go, really. The epitome of dying happy.

The lightheadedness is only barely setting in when he pulls off her, releasing both her hands and her head. His lips are stained red, and his cheeks are flushed. She can see, even with his blown pupils, how hazy his eyes eyes are. His grip on her wrists hasn't faltered for a second.

"Fuck," he says, but even that is far away. "Are you okay?"

"Never better," she says. "Come here."

She grips his jaw and pulls him down, and he goes easily, connecting their lips in a messy swirl of blood and drool and venom. She can feel the tang of it still as his fangs are still prominent in his mouth. They're large, and she feels the tip of one cut her own lip, blood pooling between her teeth. Chan pulls away with a moan.

"You taste so good," he murmurs, licking his lips, absolutely blood-drunk. "Fuck. Want you so bad."

"And you're fucking gorgeous," she says. "So in-control. You gonna take care of me, Chan? You gonna make me feel good?"

That rumbling starts in his chest again, and Chan is on her again, his full weight pressing down on her, stealing the breath from her lungs. Vampires always weigh more than you think they would, and Chan is heavy with her blood. His skin is burning, almost feverish. It's so monstrous. It's so fucking sexy.

"Gonna eat you out so good," he murmurs against her lips. "Gonna make you scream."

"God, please," she whines. "Please. Want your mouth. Wanna cum so bad."

Chan abandons her lips and shuffles down the bed to the curve of her hips. He doesn't have to push her dress up that far to have access, and he doesn't even bother to actually remove her panties, instead pushing them aside and diving in. His fangs are still extended, and the slick feeling of bone against her labia sends a thrill of fear down her spine. What if he cuts her down there? Will he start drinking from that too? Her juices and blood mixing together for him? The fear only makes it more attractive, and she pushes down into his mouth, wanting more, wanting him deeper. His tongue is so wet, so rough, his fingers on her thighs are gouging holes into her skin, they must be, but she doesn't make him stop, she just heaves in haggard breaths, begs him to keep going.

His tongue swirls around the head of her clit and then takes it into his mouth and sucks. The twine in Hyunji's stomach snaps, eyes rolling back, and her breath pushed harshly out of her lungs in what is, admittedly, closer to a scream than she thought she'd get. Her vision is hazy for a moment, head full of roaring and fog as she recovers from both the blood loss and the intensity of the orgasm. Chan pulls away from her as her body goes lax, and she can hear him breathing in deep lungfuls of air. It doesn't occur to her for another few seconds that he doesn't even need to breathe. It's cute. She loves it when they still have vestigial impulses.

Time is murky for a while. Hyunji doesn't feel Chan get off the bed and step away and is only dimly aware of hands on her neck, something cooling brushed under her skin. Her head is a mess, she doesn't know which way is up. She's no stranger to this feeling, though, even though it's rarely so strong. She just breathes through it, and lets her body do what it must, and slowly, everything begins to settle back into focus.

When she opens her eyes, she's still lying on the bed. There's no one with her, but she can feel eyes on her. After another minute, she feels alright to sit up, and is proud that the dizziness doesn't seem too bad. Apparently, he hadn't taken as much blood as she'd thought.

Chan is sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. He'd been looking out the window before, but his eyes snap over to her when she moves, and in a second he's by her side, arm around her back so he can help her into a sitting position against the headboard.

"How are you feeling?" he asks. His hair has gone astray from it's perfect placement, and his cheeks are still flushed, but his eyes are back to normal now, present and assessing and nearly human in its clear concern.

"I'm fine," she says. It feels like a gross understatement considering what’s just transpired.

"I didn't mean to take so much," he says apologetically. "I didn't think I'd lose control so quickly."

If this is what Chan calls losing control, then Hyunji pales at the thought of what he'd say if she explained some of the encounters she's endured.

"You stopped yourself even before I would've," she assures him. "I'm barely dizzy at all. And my shakiness is just as much from the orgasm as the donation."

"You're sure?" he asks. The 180-degree shift from his earlier persona is as surprising as it is pleasant. His concern is adorable, and it seems so genuine. She finds herself smiling genuinely herself.

"I'm sure. I'm completely alright. I should, ah, probably eat something though."

"Yes. Of course."

Chan jumps up to grab the hotel phone and call for someone, and Hyunji takes stock of her body. There's a bandage over her neck and some form of antiseptic has been put on her lip. She can taste the medicinal tang. The area between her legs also feels wiped down where it's now covered with the drapings of her skirt.

Probably to clean up the blood, she thinks, remembering the frenzied state Chan had been in when he went down on her. God, she really was crazy. She hated being treated like fresh meat, but she loved it when they pretended like she was.

As her strength returns, she sits up properly, with her legs curled beside her. Chan goes to the door to get the food when it's delivered, and Hyunji accepts the small platter gratefully.

"I'm surprised the kitchen is still open," she comments.

"This is Josun Palace. The kitchen is always open."

Hyunji shrugs and eats her offered food. Chan still seems anxious about her state, but as she converses with him nonchalantly, he seems to believe in her good health, and the nervous energy fades.

Finally, after Hyunji has again finished her food and water, Chan says, "I should be off."

The disappointment hits Hyunji like a freight train. Maybe she'd been imagining it, but she thought that this had been going well. She had good blood and a good body, and he'd seemed to think her pleasant enough. She's old enough now that she shouldn't still be surprised when she reads vampires incorrectly, but this one stings, not just for the loss of a job, but for the loss of Chan, who she'd started to genuinely like at some point during the evening.

"If you must," she said, trying not to sound too put out. "I know you must be busy."

Chan looks a little torn. "Would you prefer I stayed?"

"I don't expect you to do things you're not comfortable with," Hyunji parroted. "If you've finished with me, you have every right to go."

"Hyunji, I didn't mean..." Chan sighs, takes a breath. "I just don't want you to feel as though you're trapped here with me. You've done your job as well. You can ask me to leave at any time."

"I'm not trapped with you. Like I said, I do this because I like it. And I know you're not going to hurt me, unless you're playing a really long game." Hyunji looks him right in the eyes when she says. "You're really nice, Chan. Don't tell my regulars back home, but this has been my best night, maybe ever. I won't hold you here, because you don't owe me anything, but I'm not uncomfortable with you at all."

Chan examines her closely, perhaps to divine if she's lying or not, but Hyunji means what she said. It might be one of the easiest jobs of her entire life, and one of her best hook-ups. No part of her feels like a cornered animal.

"I'll stay until you sleep," Chan offers. "So I can make sure you're okay."

"And then I'll never see you again?"

On this topic, Chan doesn't budge. "We'll see."

Well, if it's the best she's going to get, she'll take it. She sets the tray aside and gets up to use the bathroom, pleased to find her feet aren't the least bit wobbly. She doesn't wash her makeup off, but she does take her contacts out and change out of her dress into one of the hanging gowns by the shower. She'd actually wash herself clean if it wasn't so much effort.

Chan is sitting on the bed when she comes back out, and she's pleased to see he doesn't move as she approaches, just scoots away so she can climb back in under the covers and curl up. Gentle hands come to pull at her chin, exposing the bite in her flesh.

"It doesn't hurt," she murmurs. "And I don't scar easy."

"Junkie," he says, but this time it's affectionate instead of accusatory.

"I’m a professional," she rebuffs, eyes drifting closed. She falls asleep with his thumb still caressing her cheek.

Hyunji wakes up the next morning to find sunlight coming from the bottom of the blinds and Chan nowhere to be found. She groans as she wakes up and identifies the throb in her neck as the minimal venom effect finally wears off, leaving only the pain of the puncture.

She stumbles to the bathroom to remove her makeup and shower and drags back on the same dress and shoes she had the day before. There's a good chance the workers downstairs won't recognize her, and anyway, she's long past feeling shame for reappearing in the same clothes she'd left in. Everyone's done it, and she's not embarrassed of her slutty tendencies when they're so much of a part of her by now.

On the table next to her purse is a wad of cash. She can't begin to estimate how much. It was one of the things they hadn't discussed beforehand, was exactly how much she'd be paid. She assumed something approaching the going rate for her agency, but this appears to be much more. Tucked under the rubber band at the top of the stack is a note from Chan that says, Drink water when you wake up. You were shivering in your sleep.

Cute. Cullen-level creepy, but still cute. Hyunji puts the cash in her purse, checks the room over again, and leaves.

It isn't until the uber drops her off at her home and she's changed into comfortable clothes that she gets a call from Kimiya at the agency again. She runs through a similar debrief as the other girls before had given, that Chan was cordial and polite, that he took her blood and paid her well, and she has nothing more to say on the matter. Kimiya seems frustrated again, but promises to e-mail over the paperwork for their records and tells her to look after her heath. When Hyunji hangs up the phone, she sets it down and folds herself into her living room couch.

Chan hadn't given her his phone number, or any other means of contacting him. She supposes she could easily look him up, but that's against the rules of her contract, and at any rate, it's best not to go looking for vampires when they don't want to be found. Hyunji knows that at least well enough.

"Another notch on his belt," she says to herself. "It's what I expected going in."

She tells herself the lingering disappointment she's feeling is just the venom still in her system and goes to the kitchen to make herself breakfast.

Hyunji gets caught up in her life in the following days. She has "kind of" a job that she "kind of" has to go to, and "kind of" meetings that she "kind of" has to attend. It's nothing serious, and mostly for appearances, but she has nothing better to do with her time, so she goes anyway. By the middle of the week, her night with Chan is at the back of her mind, filed away with all her other patrons.

It doesn't exactly leave her, though. She wishes it would, because it's getting kind of embarrassing, but for some reason the feelings are hard to shake. Maybe it was because she liked Chan, not just as a respectful client, but as a person. Under different circumstances, she thought they would have gotten along well. That's where the loss might be coming from, in truth, not of him as a client, but him as a potential friend.

But vampires don't keep humans around like that. At least, not outside cheesy romance novels and dramas. They stick to their own, and humans stick to their own. Hyunji knows that. Which means she's got to get a grip.

'Getting a grip' lasts two weeks, when Kimiya gives her another call late Thursday morning. This is in line with the usual timeframe. Hyunji doesn't take any medications she needs to detox from, so she's a prime candidate for people who need last-minute donations. The minimum time between two donations is two weeks, so this is the earliest that Hyunji could potentially take any requests.

"Hello, Kimiya," she says, answering the phone cheerfully. "What do you need?"

"I have news," Kimiya says, deviating from the script. Hyunji stops short.

"Oh?"

"Bang Chan wants to request you again."

Hyunji's heart leaps into her throat. "He does?"

"Yes. He wouldn't give much more information than that, but he did specify that this would be in a more casual setting, and that he did not anticipate feeding from you at this time. Of course, this means you also wouldn't be paid for attending the meeting."

Hyunji has a feeling that whether she gave blood had nothing to do with her potential financial gain.

"I'll do it," Hyunji says. "When's the meeting?"

"Tomorrow, Friday, at eight pm. I'll send you the address."

"Perfect." She’s sure she can’t keep the excitement out of her voice. "Thank you, Kimiya."

"Of course," Kimiya says. Then, "What did you do with him? He and his coven have been running through our girls like water."

Hyunji presses a finger against her neck, relishing the feel of the blood rushing under her skin. "Oh, you know. The best strategy is just to have fun and be yourself.”

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