#have a good day/afternoon/evening/night !! <333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[aannonn]

hug [ mini comic ]

⭑.ᐟ˚⭐彡 // bright colors , pastel colors , slight blur art , messy text (?) , can be taken as /p or /r

heheh hugs❤

[thatonefatgumsimp]

still very behind on mermay, but here's day 8's prompt, Dystopian...idk I tried my best to make her kinda like a rebel with cyberpunk-y glasses

Also I did part of a background for once instead of leaving a blank white page- 😅

[elikajinnie]

hii! hope ur doing good I have some ideas in mind hear me out demon sunghoon where he fell in love with reader and tries to protect and keep an eye on her and sunghoon tries to disguise himself as a human to get closer to her will do anything to protect her and love her, buttt what if reader discover’s his true identity. It could be incubus sunghoon BUT ITS UR CHOICE, Hope ur doing good :333

The Incubus's Touch - P.S

a/n: i hope you like it <33

P: Incubus!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader (Recommended age 18+)

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Obsession, Teasing, Possession, Seduction, Hurt/Comfort, Temptation, Stalking, Suggestive Content, Mature Content.

Wordcount: 10.2k

Synopsis: Working at the old campus library was fun—except for one rule: never enter the basement. Yet, one day, you found yourself there, holding an ancient book. You read a few words, and now strange things are happening, and a mysterious new student won’t leave you alone. Who—or what—did you awaken?

a/n: i got some inspiration from a new book im reading called The Devil Makes Three by Tori Bovalino - i would recommend it if you can handle slowburn.

now playing: woo by rihanna | sins (let me in) by kanii | temptation by ashley sienna | dont mess with my mind by emo

reblogs and commentary are welcomed <3

--

When you first decided to get a job close to campus, you weren’t expecting much. In fact, you didn’t have many choices at all. Most of the cafes and shops near the university had already filled their rosters for the semester, and every rejection you received only added to the growing knot of anxiety in your chest. As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing desperate, spending late nights scrolling through job postings that seemed to disappear before you could even send in an application.

It wasn’t until one quiet afternoon in the campus library that your salvation arrived.

The campus library had always been your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and filled with the smell of old books. It wasn’t unusual for you to spend hours tucked into one of the corners, surrounded by towering shelves of books and the gentle hum of the air conditioning. The librarian, Mrs. Choi, had gotten used to seeing you there almost every day, to the point where she’d started greeting you by name when you walked through the doors.

That day, she had approached your table while you were hunched over your laptop, your screen open to yet another fruitless job search.

“Still looking?” she’d asked, her voice soft but knowing.

You’d sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah. It’s been… rough.”

She’d nodded thoughtfully, her gaze drifting toward the stacks of books waiting to be shelved. Then, after a moment, she’d said, “How would you feel about working here? As my assistant?”

You’d blinked, thinking you must have misheard her. “Wait, really?”

“Really,” she’d said, smiling faintly. “It’s nothing glamorous, but we could use an extra set of hands. And you seem like the kind of person who’d do well here.”

You didn’t need to think twice. You’d eagerly accepted the offer on the spot.

The job, as it turned out, was exactly what you’d needed. Sorting out books, erasing stray pencil marks and doodles from pages, sitting behind the counter to check books in and out, cleaning shelves, making sure the computers were turned off at the end of the day—it was simple work.

You quickly fell into a routine. Most days, you worked quietly alongside Mrs. Choi, who was as patient and kind. Other times, you found yourself alone.

There were small challenges, of course— like figuring out the library catalog system, dealing with students who were less than gentle with the books, chasing down overdue returns—but they were minor in the grand scheme of things.

It wasn’t the job you’d imagined yourself doing, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed.

But there was one simple rule she had given you: never enter the basement alone.

At first, you thought it was strange. The basement was just a storage space, wasn’t it? A place to keep old supplies, forgotten books, and maybe some outdated equipment. Why would it matter if you were alone or not?

You got your answer the first time Mrs. Choi took you down there.

It had been a quiet afternoon, with only a few students milling around the library. Mrs. Choi had handed you a list of supplies needed to repair a torn book—a delicate process that required some old tools and adhesives she kept locked away downstairs. She led you to a small, unassuming door at the far corner of the library, almost hidden behind one of the towering shelves.

The moment the door creaked open, the atmosphere changed.

The air was heavier, colder. A faint smell of mold hit your nose immediately, mixed with something metallic that made you wrinkle your nose. The single light bulb at the top of the stairs flickered, casting shadows that danced along the narrow stairwell. You hesitated, but Mrs. Choi gave you a reassuring look and motioned for you to follow.

“I know it’s not exactly inviting,” she said with a small smile, descending the stairs, “but the supplies we need are down here. Just stick close to me.”

You nodded and followed her, but the deeper you went, the more uneasy you felt. The basement wasn’t just dark—it was suffocatingly so. The walls were lined with shelves cluttered with dust-covered boxes, forgotten stacks of books, and unidentifiable objects. The floor beneath your feet was uneven, cracked concrete, and your steps echoed in the silence.

And then there were the hallways.

You hadn’t expected the basement to be so sprawling. Hallways branched off in seemingly every direction, twisting and turning into darkness. Some of them were so narrow you’d have to walk sideways to squeeze through. Others disappeared entirely into shadows, the overhead lights either burned out or nonexistent.

“This library is older than the campus itself,” Mrs. Choi explained as she rummaged through a shelf near the end of one of the hallways. “The basement used to be part of an old archive building before the university bought the property. They’ve renovated the library a dozen times over the years, but the basement? Well…” She trailed off, gesturing to the decaying walls around you.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” you muttered, wrinkling your nose at the sight of a particularly large spiderweb on the wall.

Mrs. Choi chuckled softly. “Exactly. What the students can’t see won’t hurt them—or so the administration likes to think. Just be glad you don’t have to come down here often.”

You nodded, but your eyes kept drifting to the dark hallways. There was something… off about them.

“Mrs. Choi?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Hmm?” she replied without looking up.

“Why don’t you want me coming down here alone?”

She paused, her hands stilling on the box she’d been searching through. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, and you felt a chill crawl up your spine. When she finally spoke, her tone was casual—too casual.

“It’s easy to get lost,” she said, turning to you with a faint smile. “The layout down here doesn’t make much sense, and it’s not exactly safe to wander around in the dark. The last thing I want is for you to trip and hurt yourself.”

Her explanation made sense, but the way she avoided your gaze left you unconvinced. Still, you didn’t press the issue. You helped her carry the supplies back upstairs, relieved to step back into the library.

After that, you made a point to follow her rule. The basement was creepy enough with someone else—there was no way you were going down there alone.

At least, not until the night you had no choice.

It happened a few weeks later, after a long shift that had stretched past closing time. Mrs. Choi had gone home early, trusting you to lock up on your own. Most of the evening had just been returning books to their shelves, tidying up the counter, shutting down the computers—but just as you were about to leave, you noticed a small stack of books on the repair desk.

You froze, staring at them. Mrs. Choi had asked you to fix those earlier in the week, but you’d completely forgotten. The supplies you needed were downstairs—in the basement.

You hesitated, debating whether you could just leave it for tomorrow, but you knew Mrs. Choi was counting on you. Sighing, you grabbed a flashlight from the front desk and made your way to the basement door.

You hesitated at the door, keys in hand, as a quiet, uneasy thought crossed your mind: Just leave it for tomorrow. But Mrs. Choi... She was counting on you. The supplies were just downstairs. It’d take five minutes at most.

With a resigned sigh, you unlocked the door.

The heavy, creaking groan of the hinges sent a shiver down your spine as the door swung open. The familiar smell hit you immediately: damp, mold, and that faint metallic. You reached for the light switch, flipping it on without much thought.

Nothing happened.

You froze, your hand still on the switch. You flicked it again. And again. Still nothing.

You swallowed hard, telling yourself the bulb had probably just burned out—though you couldn’t remember a time the light had ever failed before.

“It’s fine,” you muttered under your breath, bringing the flashlight you’d brought along up. The bright beam cut through the darkness as you clicked it on, illuminating the narrow staircase in front of you. You took a shaky breath and began your descent.

The further down you went, the colder it became.

The air felt heavier here, pressing against your skin like a warning. You tried to focus on the flashlight’s beam, watching it bounce against the cracked walls and uneven steps. It helped, a little. But not enough to shake the growing knot of unease curling in your stomach.

When you finally reached the bottom of the staircase, you paused to look around. The beam of your flashlight swept across the basement, revealing the same maze of shelves, forgotten boxes, and darkened hallways you’d seen before. But tonight, it felt different—almost unfamiliar.

A shiver ran up your spine. You adjusted your grip on the flashlight, forcing yourself to move.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself. “Get the supplies and leave.”

You turned toward the shelf where Mrs. Choi always kept the repair tools. They were usually right there—neatly stored in a small wooden crate on the middle shelf. But as you shone the flashlight over it, you froze.

The shelf was empty.

Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly scanned the area. No crate. No tools. Nothing. You crouched down, checking the lower shelves, even though you knew they’d never been there before. Still nothing.

“Where…?” you muttered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own breathing.

Maybe Mrs. Choi had moved them? That was possible, right? She was always reorganizing things. You straightened up, your flashlight flicking from shelf to shelf, moving to step back, you were about tt turn to check the other shelves nearby. That’s when you heard it.

A faint sound, just on the edge of your hearing. A soft creak, like the sound of a door easing open—or maybe a floorboard shifting underfoot.

You froze, your flashlight trembling slightly in your hand.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice louder than you intended. It echoed through the basement, bouncing off the walls and disappearing into the dark hallways. No response.

You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe just the old pipes settling, or your own footsteps disturbing something. But as you turned back to the shelf, another sound reached you.

This time, it was softer—quieter. Like the faint rustle of fabric.

Your stomach dropped.

You swung the flashlight toward the nearest hallway, its beam cutting through the dark. Nothing. Just more shelves, more shadows. But your instincts were screaming at you now, telling you to leave. To get out of there.

"Okay, nope," you whispered to yourself, backing away from the hallway, your flashlight trembling slightly in your hands.

That’s when you heard it.

A hum.

Soft, almost melodic, like someone humming a lullaby just out of earshot. It floated through the air, carried on a breeze that shouldn’t have existed down here. The sound wrapped around you, tender and strangely inviting, tugging at something deep inside your chest.

You froze, the flashlight beam flickering as your grip loosened. The hum grew louder—not in an overwhelming way, but in a way that seemed to sink into your bones. It felt… warm.

Where were you again?

You frowned, the thought slipping through your mind like water through your fingers. You couldn’t remember. The dim basement around you blurred at the edges, the walls dissolving into a hazy glow. The tight knot of fear in your stomach melted away, replaced by a slow, pleasant warmth that spread through your body.

The hum wrapped around you like a blanket, comforting and wonderful, coaxing you to close your eyes and just… relax. The cold, damp smell of the basement faded, replaced by something sweeter. Flowers? No… vanilla, maybe. Something that reminded you of home.

You let out a soft sigh, your muscles relaxing, the tension in your shoulders fading. Your flashlight slipped from your fingers and clattered to the ground, but you barely noticed.

Everything felt so perfect.

You wanted to stay here forever.

But then, just as suddenly as it had started, the hum stopped.

And everything crashed back into focus.

The warmth in your chest was gone, replaced by a sharp chill that clawed at your skin. The sweetness in the air vanished, leaving behind the bitter stench of mold and metal. Your surroundings solidified, and you realized you were no longer standing where you’d been before.

You were in a different room.

The walls were smooth and gray, completely different from the crumbling concrete of the basement hallways. The shelves were gone, replaced by nothing but cold, empty space. The air felt heavier, colder, and every breath you took made your chest ache.

Your flashlight was nowhere to be seen, but a dim, pale light seemed to seep into the room from nowhere and everywhere at once.

The hum was gone, but the silence it left behind was worse.

You turned in slow circles, your heart hammering in your chest. The room was small, with smooth, gray walls that loomed over you, stretching upward into darkness.

“Hello?” you called, your voice trembling.

It echoed back to you, warped and distant, as if the room was far larger than it seemed.

The warped echoes of your voice faded into the suffocating silence of the room, leaving only the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

How did you even get here?

You couldn't remember. Your mind was still foggy, fragments of warmth and that eerie hum lingering in the back of your thoughts like an unfinished dream.

Did you walk here?

You felt like you were missing pieces of yourself, as if part of your memory had been swallowed whole.

You were about to take a tentative step forward when something deep inside you shifted—a strange, unnatural pull. It wasn't a sensation you could describe easily. It was as though a string deep within your chest was being tugged, pulling you toward something.

You froze, your breath catching as your eyes followed the invisible tether.

In the center of the room, sitting on a low, ornate stand, was a book.

Your heart stuttered. Had that been there before? You were sure it wasn’t. You would have noticed it immediately, wouldn’t you?

The book seemed to glow faintly, its crimson-red cover almost pulsating, like it was alive. There were no words or symbols on the front, just smooth, worn leather that seemed impossibly pristine for something that felt so… ancient.

You swallowed hard, your feet moving toward it as if on their own. Each step felt heavier, your instincts screaming at you to turn around, to run, but you couldn’t stop.

When you finally reached it, you hesitated.

It was smaller than you expected, almost delicate, as though it shouldn’t have belonged in a place like this. Despite its vivid crimson color, the book radiated a strange sense of calm—like it wanted to be touched.

Before you realized it, your fingers were brushing against the cover.

It felt smooth, almost unnaturally so, and surprisingly light when you picked it up. You turned it over in your hands, the edges soft and perfectly bound, as if the book had been untouched for centuries. But on the back, something caught your attention.

A pink heart.

It was imprinted into the leather, subtle, making it look almost playful.

You huffed, confused and almost annoyed by how strange it all felt. Turning the book back over, you slowly opened it.

The pages inside were blank.

Every single one, clean and untouched, as though the book had never been written in. But when you turned to the first page, something stopped you in your tracks.

There was writing.

It was delicate, inked in looping, elegant script that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. The letters were strange, unfamiliar, but they seemed alive, as though they were moving ever so slightly, shifting and breathing on the page.

Latin, your mind supplied, though you couldn’t remember ever studying the language.

You tilted your head, curiosity overriding your fear as your eyes traced the unfamiliar words. They beckoned to you, pulling you in deeper. Before you even realized what you were doing, your lips parted, and you read them aloud:

"Qui me legit, fiat noster ligamen aeternum."

Nothing happened.

You stared at the book, waiting for some dramatic effect—a rumble, a flash of light, maybe a ghostly apparition—but there was nothing. Just silence.

You let out an annoyed huff, rolling your eyes. “Great. Real spooky,” you muttered under your breath. Closing the book with a snap, you placed it back on the stand, wiping your hands on your jeans as if to rid yourself of its texture. “What a waste of time.”

Turning around, you glanced around the room again, your frustration growing. It wasn’t like you had time to deal with creepy books in creepy basements. You still needed to get out of here and figure out why the supplies weren’t where they were supposed to be.

Then, you saw it.

A door.

It was open, just wide enough for you to slip through. You frowned. Had it been there before? It must’ve been—how else would you have gotten in here? Still, something about it didn’t sit right with you.

Was that where you came from?

You shrugged. Probably.

With no other options, you headed toward it, slipping through the opening, the faint creak of the hinges echoing unnervingly.

And then you were swallowed by darkness.

“Of course,” you muttered, groaning. Without the flashlight from earlier, the darkness was thick and impenetrable. You could barely see an inch in front of your face, and the faint light from the room behind you did nothing to help.

Fishing your phone from your pocket, you switched on its flashlight. The beam wasn’t as strong as the flashlight you’d been carrying before, but it was enough to see the area around you.

The floor beneath your feet was uneven and cold, a mixture of dirt and cracked stone. You shone the light around, trying to get your bearings. The walls were damp and covered in spiderwebs, and the faint scent of mold and rust lingered in the air.

Where even am I?

You took a tentative step forward, the beam of light from your phone trembling as you moved.

The hallway kept stretching forward, narrow and seemingly endless. The farther you walked, the more the walls seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder with each step. Your phone’s light flickered once, then again, making your pulse spike.

“Don’t you dare die on me,” you whispered, gripping the device tighter.

The light steadied, and you exhaled a shaky breath, your footsteps faltering slightly.

Something felt off.

The air was too still, the silence too absolute. It was the kind of quiet that made you feel like you were being watched, like something was lurking just beyond the reach of your light.

You shook your head, trying to focus. “Get it together,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just find the exit.”

But as you took another step, something caught your attention.

A sound.

It was faint at first, almost imperceptible, but it grew louder the more you listened. A soft, rhythmic tapping, like footsteps… or fingers drumming against a surface.

You froze, the beam of your phone’s light shaking as your hands trembled. The sound echoed faintly through the corridor, coming from somewhere ahead of you.

“Hello?” you called, your voice cracking slightly.

No response.

The tapping stopped.

You waited, holding your breath, your ears straining for any hint of movement.

Then, suddenly, the tapping started again—this time behind you.

Your stomach dropped, and you whipped around, the flashlight from your phone sweeping over the hallway you’d just walked through. It was empty.

Completely, utterly empty.

You took a shaky step backward, your heart hammering in your chest. The tapping grew louder, faster, coming from all around you now, echoing off the walls in a maddening cacophony.

“Stop it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Just stop!”

And then it did.

The silence that followed was deafening, almost worse than the sound itself. You took another step back, your pulse racing, and suddenly the floor beneath you gave way.

With a startled cry, you fell, the phone slipping from your hand as you tumbled into darkness.

You hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. Dazed and disoriented, you lay there for a moment, your head spinning and your body aching.

When you finally managed to sit up, you realized you were no longer in the narrow hallway.

You were back in the room.

The light was gone, replaced by an suffocating darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly around you.

And in the center of the room, sitting on the stand where you’d left it, was the book.

But this time, it wasn`t red.

It was black.

And it was beating.

You screamed, the sound raw and terrified as it echoed around the room. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. Your body felt impossibly heavy, as though some unseen force was pressing down on you, rooting you in place.

Frantic, your eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out, for anything to explain what was happening. But the darkness seemed alive now, shifting and writhing just beyond your vision.

And then, you felt it.

Hot breath, impossibly close, brushing against your ear.

Your breath hitched as warmth spread through you, pooling low in your stomach, and you hated how your body betrayed you, reacting to something you couldn’t even see.

Then came the lips.

Soft, feather-light, trailing along the curve of your neck. The sensation was so vivid, so real, that a groan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Your body arched instinctively, leaning into the phantom touch, even as your mind screamed at you to fight it, to run, to do something.

“Shh,” a voice purred, its tone soothing. “There’s no need to be afraid, my sweet. You called me, remember?”

Your heart raced, and your hands clenched into fists as you tried to regain control of your body. “What… what are you?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

The presence behind you chuckled, the sound low and intimate, like a lover’s laugh shared in the dark.

“I’m yours,” it said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You read the words. You invited me in. And now… we’re bound.”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “No, no, this isn’t real. This can’t be real.”

“Oh, but it is,” the voice replied, amusement lacing its tone. “You wanted something, didn’t you? Why else would you open that book? Why else would you speak those words?”

The weight on your body eased slightly, enough for you to shift and try to crawl away, but the darkness coiled around you like a living thing, keeping you in place.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?” the voice murmured, almost pitying. “Poor thing. You were so eager, so curious. And now…”

A hand—cold yet burning—brushed against your cheek, tilting your head up toward the stand where the book still rested.

“…you’re mine.”

The room seemed to pulse with those final words, the darkness tightening around you like a vice. Your vision blurred as panic clawed at your throat, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the book—its pages flipping wildly on their own—glowing faintly with a sinister crimson light.

You woke up with a sharp gasp, your body jolting upright like you’d been shocked awake. But as you looked around, you realized you were lying in the middle of the hallway.

Your phone was on the floor beside you, its flashlight pointed up at the cracked ceiling.

It was a dream?

You laughed, breathless and shaky, running a hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself. “This is insane,” you muttered, your voice trembling. The laughter didn’t last long—it felt hollow, a desperate attempt to convince yourself that what you’d experienced wasn’t real.

You snatched up your phone, and scrambled to your feet. Without wasting another second, you sprinted down the hallway, the weak beam of your phone’s flashlight bouncing with every step. You didn’t care where you were going anymore; you just needed to get out.

The hallways twisted and turned, stretching endlessly, and every shadow seemed to claw at you as you ran. It felt like hours—like the labyrinth was mocking you, refusing to let you leave.

But finally, somehow, you found your way back.

The dim light of the main basement room greeted you, and your breath hitched as your eyes landed on something you hadn’t expected to see.

The box of supplies.

It was sitting on the shelf, exactly where it was supposed to be.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at it. The same box you’d been searching for, on the same shelf you’d checked before.

How had it gotten here?

You didn’t dare question it. Not now. Not after everything that had just happened.

Without hesitation, you grabbed the box, clutching it tightly in one hand while you snatched the flashlight off the ground with the other.

Then you bolted.

Your feet thundered up the stairs, your pulse roaring in your ears as you raced for the exit. When you reached the top, you slammed the basement door shut and locked it, your hands shaking so badly it took you a couple of tries to get the key to turn.

The moment it was locked, you pressed your back against the door, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

You glanced down at the supplies in your arms, the mundane, ordinary contents almost laughable now after everything you’d been through.

But as you stood there, something cold prickled at the back of your neck.

You turned slowly, your eyes drifting toward the library’s main floor.

Everything was still. Silent.

And yet, for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a figure standing in the shadows between the shelves.

Watching you.

You blinked, and it was gone.

This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, shaking your head as you clutched the box tighter. You were just tired, that was all. You hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in days, and the stress of balancing school and work was clearly catching up to you. Yeah, tired. That’s all this is, you thought, repeating it like a mantra.

Ignoring the lingering unease prickling at the back of your neck, you made your way to the counter. The two ripped books Mrs. Choi had left were still there, waiting for you. You dropped the box down with a thud, grabbed the tools you needed, and got to work.

Your hands trembled at first as you smoothed out the torn pages, applying the adhesive carefully. You focused on the process—cutting, pressing, and smoothing out the repair strips—letting the repetitive actions calm your frayed nerves.

This was normal. Fixing books. Doing your job. Nothing weird about that.

Minutes passed. Then longer. The books were almost done, and for a moment, you felt like you could breathe again.

But then, just as you reached for the last tool in the box, a soft tap echoed through the library.

Your hand froze mid-reach, your eyes darting toward the source of the sound.

Tap… tap… tap.

It came from the direction of the shelves, slow and deliberate, like someone tapping their nails against wood.

Your chest tightened as you stared into the rows of books, the library was dark now—darker than it should’ve been. The overhead lights seemed dimmer, casting distorted shadows across the shelves.

You swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was the building settling, or the heating system kicking on. Don’t be stupid. You’re just scaring yourself.

Still, you couldn’t help but call out, your voice wavering. “Hello?”

No response.

The tapping stopped.

You stared into the darkness for what felt like an eternity, your heart hammering in your chest.

Then, just as you were about to turn back to the books, a book fell from one of the shelves.

The sound was deafening, the thud reverberating through the library like a gunshot.

You jumped, your breath hitching, and spun toward the source. The book lay open on the floor, its pages splayed out like wings.

You didn’t want to go over there. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to stay behind the counter, to leave it alone.

But your feet moved on their own, taking slow, hesitant steps toward the fallen book.

When you finally reached the book, you crouched down, your hand trembling as you picked it up.

Your fingers brushed over the embossed title, and your stomach dropped.

It was the same book you’d seen in the basement.

You gasped, clutching the crimson book tightly as your eyes darted around the library. Maybe this was some sort of prank? Someone could have grabbed the book from the basement and planted it here to scare you.

“Hello?” you called out again, but the library was still empty, silent.

Your breathing quickened as you scanned the shelves, desperate to catch a glimpse of anyone—a student pulling some cruel joke, or maybe Mrs. Choi coming back to check on you. But there was no one.

You hurried back to the counter, your heart racing, and turned on the computer. Your fingers fumbled as you brought up the CCTV footage, the small screen flickering to life. You scrubbed through the past hour, watching yourself walking back and forth, grabbing the box, and fixing the books.

Nothing.

No one else had entered the library. The hallways and shelves were empty. It was just you, moving around, completely alone.

Well… almost.

You paused the footage, your heart sinking as your eyes locked onto a shadow. It was faint, barely distinguishable, but for one brief frame, something seemed to linger in the corner of the screen. Not a person, but… something.

It was gone in the next frame.

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope,” you muttered under your breath, slamming the monitor off.

You looked at the crimson book sitting on the counter, its cover gleaming faintly under the dim light. It felt wrong—its very presence seemed to thrum.

Without thinking, you grabbed it and tossed it into the nearest trash bin, making sure it landed deep under crumpled paper and leftover scraps.

“There,” you said to yourself, your voice shaky. “Done.”

Forcing yourself to focus, you went back to finishing the torn books, your hands working faster than ever. As soon as the repairs were complete, you shoved the box under the counter and hurried to turn off the lights.

The library plunged into darkness, the faint moonlight filtering through the windows barely enough to guide you as you locked the doors behind you.

You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside. The campus was quiet, the lampposts casting long shadows across the pathways.

You tightened your coat around you and began the walk home, your footsteps echoing loud. Every so often, you glanced over your shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that someone was following you.

But the path behind you was always empty.

Still, the unease stayed with you, like a cold weight settling deep in your chest.

When you finally reached your apartment, you locked the door behind you, double-checking it twice before collapsing onto the couch. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were just tired, your imagination running wild after a long day.

Before you knew it, sleep had overtaken you. The exhaustion from the long day weighed down on your body like a blanket, pulling you into unconsciousness almost instantly.

But the peace of sleep didn’t last long.

You found yourself in a dimly lit bedroom, one you didn’t recognize. The walls were draped with dark curtains, and the air was heavy with the faint scent of roses. You sat up slowly, blinking in confusion as you tried to make sense of where you were.

“How did I…?” you murmured, your voice trailing off.

Before you could process anything, a voice, smooth and rich like velvet, broke the silence.

“My, you’re even more beautiful up close.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, equal parts alluring and unsettling. You whipped your head around, searching for the source, but the shadows in the room seemed to shift and dance, obscuring whoever was speaking to you.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” the voice continued, closer now, almost right beside your ear. “To touch you… to feel you…”

You gasped as a pair of lips suddenly pressed against yours, soft but demanding.

Your initial instinct was to pull away, but the sensation was overwhelming. Your mind grew hazy, a strange warmth spreading through your chest as the kiss deepened. It felt so intoxicating, so magnetic, that you couldn’t help but melt into it.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever experienced—it was all-consuming, as though the very act of it was pulling you further into the dream.

You felt hands brush against your skin, feather-light but firm, holding you in place.

You tried to pull back, but the hands held you steady, the kiss turning more possessive. The warmth you’d felt earlier now burned, searing through your veins as if something was being poured into you.

Panic swelled in your chest, but just as you were about to scream, the room spun violently, and everything went dark.

When your eyes shot open, you were back on your couch, drenched in sweat. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, your fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

But the lingering warmth on your lips, the faint ache of the kiss, told you otherwise.

And as you glanced toward the door, you froze.

The crimson book was sitting there, completely untouched, resting on the floor as if it had never been buried at all.

Your blood ran cold.

You scrambled to your feet, your heart pounding as you stared at the book. How was it there again? You knew you’d buried it deep under the pile of scraps.

“Nope. Not dealing with this,” you muttered, your voice shaking but resolute.

You grabbed the book, your fingers brushing against its smooth, cold cover. A strange, pleasant warmth crawled up your arm at the contact, sending shivers through your body. For a fleeting moment, it felt good—too good. Your grip faltered as a soft sigh escaped your lips, unbidden.

No.

Shaking your head fiercely, you tightened your grip and turned toward the window. Without hesitating, you threw it open, the cool night air brushing against your flushed face.

With all the strength you could muster, you hurled the book out. It spiraled through the air before landing with a dull thud on the damp grass below.

You leaned against the windowsill, watching the book. It lay there, unmoving.

Relief coursed through you.

“That’s it,” you whispered. “Stay there. Stay gone.”

Slamming the window shut, you locked it, double-checking the latch before stepping back.

You needed to clear your head, to shake off the strange sensations still crawling under your skin. Heading to the bathroom, you stripped off your clothes.

The shower hissed to life, steam rising as the water warmed. You stepped under the stream, letting the heat cascade over you, washing away the sweat and fear clinging to your body.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to convince yourself it was all in your head. Just a bad day. Just a stressful, weird day.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the sound of the water beating against your skin filling your ears as you focused on your breathing. It’s fine. It’s just your imagination. Nothing weird is going on. You’re tired, just tired, you repeated in your mind.

The water seemed colder now, even though the temperature hadn't changed, and a shiver ran down your spine. You’re overthinking it. Just get out of the shower and relax, you told yourself, but your hands felt heavy as you reached for the soap.

Just as you were about to wash your face, a soft tap echoed from somewhere beyond the bathroom door.

You froze, the motion of your hands stalling in midair.

Tap... Tap...

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes darted to the bathroom door.

It was all too familiar. You couldn’t breathe, your chest tightening as the sound echoed louder in your mind.

No. No. It’s just the house settling. Maybe it’s the pipes. Just the pipes.

But the words felt hollow in your mind, the fear building with every passing second. The taps grew louder, clearer, almost closer.

You turned off the water quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. You stood there, motionless, listening, waiting for the sound to stop.

But it didn’t.

And then a creak. Just slightly, but enough for you to hear.

You gasped, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself as you backed away, your legs shaking. Your mind screamed at you to leave the bathroom, to get out of the apartment, but you couldn’t move.

Then, before you could react, the door opened, just a crack.

There was nothing on the other side.

Just the empty hallway beyond.

But you knew. You knew it wasn’t right.

You slammed the door shut and locked it immediately, your breath ragged. The air in the bathroom felt stifling now, the walls pressing in on you, the space shrinking.

Your hand trembled as you reached for your phone, desperate to call someone, anyone.

But the screen flickered as soon as you unlocked it. The text on the screen was warped, unreadable. You stared at it for a moment, your stomach dropping. Something wasn’t right with your phone either.

A sharp, guttural whisper curled through the air, a voice so low you barely caught it.

The voice was so faint at first, you thought it was just a figment of your imagination, a trick your mind had played in the silence. But then it came again, clear and sharp, wrapping around your senses like a heavy fog.

“Come closer...”

It was soft, smooth, but there was an undeniable edge to it—laced with something... something tempting.

You froze, the words swirling in your mind. It wasn’t your own voice. It was deeper, resonating through you, the very air around you thick with a strange pull. Your chest tightened, and you felt something shift within you, an involuntary tug deep inside your stomach, urging you forward.

“Just one touch... just one kiss...”

The voice slithered, curling into your ear like a lover’s whisper, and something about it stirred the air around you. Your body was heating up, your skin prickling with a strange energy you couldn't explain.

You swallowed hard, your breath quickening as you stared at the mirror, trying to make sense of what was happening.

That’s when you felt it—an undeniable heat at your back.

It burned, searing through you like something alive, something that wanted you. Your breath hitched, and you spun around in a panic, expecting to see someone behind you, but the bathroom was empty, the space cold and silent.

But the heat didn’t fade.

It lingered, crawling across your skin like a heavy presence, sending shivers up your spine. There was no one there, but the sensation of being watched was there. Your body tensed, the warmth spreading through your entire body now, suffocating you, as if someone was right there, pressed against you, whispering into your very soul.

“It’s just us now…”

You glanced into the mirror once more, and there it was again—the figure. This time, it was clearer, its shadowy outline just behind you, impossibly close. The reflection wasn’t yours—it was someone else, standing so close that the hairs on your neck stood on end.

You gasped, heart pounding, but the figure didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. It simply stood.

The heat intensified, and the whisper grew louder, more insistent, as if it had taken root in your mind.

“Come to me... you know you want to...”

Your pulse raced. The pull in your chest was growing stronger now, as if your body was no longer your own, as if it was being drawn to something that wasn’t just a dream anymore.

The room began to spin, and you had to grip the edge of the sink to steady yourself, feeling dizzy as the desire to obey, to give in, washed over you. But as you fought it, something else caught your eye in the mirror—something that made your blood run cold.

A pair of glowing eyes pierced through the shadows, locked on you. And they were hungry.

You staggered back, heart slamming against your ribcage, and in the corner of your vision, you saw a fleeting glimpse of something—something moving, shifting in the dark.

No… You wanted to scream, to run, but your body wouldn’t move. Your limbs felt like lead, and the heat had become unbearable, pressing into you, dragging you toward it.

With a strangled breath, you finally tore your gaze away from the mirror, blinking furiously to rid yourself of the image. But the voice didn’t stop. It echoed inside your mind, growing louder.

“We’re bound now... there’s no going back…”

You tried to pull away, tried to break free of the suffocating heat and the unbearable pressure, but you couldn’t move. It was as if invisible hands were holding you in place. Your body, already trembling from the overwhelming sensations, was paralyzed as the touch slowly traveled up your arms.

It was light, ghostly, like fingertips grazing over your skin—soft, but burning with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t. The sensation slid up to your shoulders, your neck, curling around you.

The moment it brushed your throat, the pressure seemed to increase, suffocating you. The touch lingered there, just under your jawline, fingers gentle yet firm. And then, before you could think, before you could react, you felt something else—lips.

A kiss.

But not from anyone you could see.

Your eyes snapped shut, your breath shallow as the kiss deepened, warm and intoxicating. It was urgent, burning, and wrong, but in a way that felt too good to resist. You tried to move, tried to pull back, but the invisible force held you in place, pushing you further into the kiss.

It was there, all around you—this overwhelming feeling of being wanted, of being pulled into something. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, fear and desire mingling into a sickening cocktail. The sensation of lips on yours, it felt alive, like the very essence of the kiss was drawing something from you.

A low, satisfied murmur vibrated against your lips, and something deep within you shivered.

No… stop, please… You tried to scream in your mind, but your body didn’t obey. You couldn’t pull away from it.

You were being pulled into it, held captive by something invisible, something that wasn't human. But what? What was kissing you, claiming you like this?

The answer felt just out of reach, like a whisper that barely brushed against your mind, too faint to grasp, too slippery to hold onto. The sensation of lips—too warm, too alive—pressed against yours again, and your strength began to wane. It was as if every breath you took was being drained, pulled out from you with each passing second. You felt weak, too weak to move, too weak to even think.

Your body, once full of fear, had gone completely limp, like a ragdoll strung up and held in place by an invisible force. The pressure around your throat tightened, suffocating, but you could do nothing to fight it. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t even blink—all your energy was consumed, sucked away by whatever was holding you captive, by the kiss that wasn't a kiss.

You could feel your mind slipping, like your thoughts were dissolving into the heat, into the darkness surrounding you. The invisible force—was it a presence? A shadow?—held you in place, guiding you, manipulating you, as if you were a puppet and it was pulling your strings.

But still, the sensation of being claimed lingered, you tried to focus, tried to break free, but it was no use. Every attempt only made you feel smaller, more powerless, like you were losing yourself bit by bit.

Was this what it wanted?

Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore. It felt... distant. Detached. Like you were a spectator in your own skin, watching as the thing—whatever it was—wove its tendrils around you.

Just as the world around you seemed to fade, a distant whisper echoed through the fog of your mind:

"Mine now."

The words wrapped around you like a heavy chain, pulling tighter and tighter until you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even feel the floor beneath you anymore.

You were slipping away, your body fading into nothingness, held together only by the force that had claimed you.

"Mine forever."

--

When you woke up, it wasn’t like any other morning. You felt... tired. Groggy, and exhausted. As you stretched, you looked around the room, everything exactly as you left it, nothing unusual. It felt normal.

When you arrived at school, you couldn’t focus. The lessons droned on, but your mind kept wandering. You couldn't shake the feeling from last night. There was a gnawing curiosity deep inside you, a need to know what had happened, to make sense of it. You couldn’t just ignore it—your body wasn’t the same.

You pulled out your laptop in the middle of class, and you typed furiously. Your fingers flew over the keys, searching for any explanation that made sense, some kind of rational answer.

You found nothing but chaos.

The results were all over the place: demons, rituals, ghosts, whispers about curses and creatures from myths, things you thought only existed in horror stories. At first, you dismissed it. This can’t be real, you told yourself. But the deeper you went, the more it all seemed... possible.

And then you found it.

Incubus demons.

Your stomach twisted as you read more. The descriptions, the encounters—everything fit too perfectly. A demon, often seductive, one that could manipulate dreams, feed off your energy, entwine itself with you in the most intimate of ways. It would drain you slowly, filling you with warmth, with need, until it had you completely. Some even said an incubus could bind you to them—forever.

You felt a shiver creep down your spine. Was this what had happened to you? Could it be real? Could the thing you felt, the presence that had been with you, be an incubus?

The deeper you read, the more it made sense. The powerlessness, the way you felt unable to stop it, to resist. The hunger, the overwhelming desire. You couldn’t imagine it. You couldn't dream it.

You were still lost in thought as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. You gathered your things mechanically, your mind still reeling from the unsettling information you had uncovered. The words about incubus demons echoed in your head, each sentence making you feel more and more trapped.

As you packed your bag, your hand brushed against something unfamiliar. A cold chill ran through you, and your stomach dropped. You froze for a second, staring at your bag with a creeping sense of dread. Slowly, you opened it, and your eyes widened.

The book.

The crimson-red book. The one you had thrown out the window, the one you’d left behind—it was here, in your bag.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your fingers trembling as you touched the book. It was impossible. How could it be here? You distinctly remembered tossing it out, watching it fall to the ground outside your window. You’d even seen it land on the grass—it couldn’t have just come back.

A deep sense of dread filled your chest as your fingers slowly curled around the cover. You could feel the pull of it again, that same suffocating desire that called to you, whispered to you.

You quickly closed the bag, as if hiding it would make it go away.

How... how was this possible?

Your mind raced, trying to piece it together, but there was no logical explanation. The book had been thrown out. It shouldn’t be here.

And yet, it was.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t in control anymore.

Something was toying with you.

You had just sat down in your next class, trying to focus, but your mind kept wandering. How was it possible? What was happening to you? You barely noticed when the seat beside you shifted, and someone sat down, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You turned your head instinctively, and your breath caught in your throat.

He was... stunning.

Tall, with sharp features and thick eyebrows that gave him an almost commanding presence. A few moles dotted his face, and his eyes were dark, almost mesmerizing, in a way which made your heart race in a way that felt unnatural.

But what really made your stomach flutter was the fact that you’d never seen him before.

Was he in this class?

You racked your brain, trying to recall if you had ever noticed him in the hallways or anywhere else on campus, but nothing came to mind.

He seemed to notice you staring at him, and a sly smile tugged at his lips. He leaned a bit closer, as if he didn’t mind the attention at all, his voice smooth and confident when he spoke.

"Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of his tone. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine."

He chuckled softly, and you felt a strange sensation wash over you, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It was unsettling, but you couldn't quite pinpoint why.

"I'm Sunghoon. Park Sunghoon," he said, his smile widening slightly.

You blinked again, now fully aware of how close he was. "Oh, uh, nice to meet you."

You forced a smile, but your heart was beating too fast. There was something about him, something that felt off—but also familiar.

Why did it feel like he already knew you?

The class went by as usual, the minutes dragging on in a haze. Sunghoon didn't speak much after you introducing yourself, but every now and then, you'd catch him glancing at you, his dark eyes glimmering with something you couldn't quite place. You tried to ignore the unease creeping up your spine and focused on the lesson.

By the time class ended, you were relieved to be able to leave. You needed some time to clear your head.

--

When you arrived at the library, you clocked in and slid behind the counter, but quickly growing bored, you leaned forward and opened the computer, deciding to look up something to distract you. You typed in "demon books," half expecting it to pull up some weird conspiracy theory, but to your surprise, a result popped up. There was a book, right there in the archives—on demons.

Your curiosity flared. This was what you needed.

You grabbed a pen and jotted down the shelf number before heading to the stacks. When you arrived, your eyes searched the shelves, scanning for the number you’d written down. There it was—just out of reach. The book you wanted sat high on the shelf, taunting you. You stretched on your toes, reaching as far as you could, but it was no use. You could feel the frustration rising as you considered your options.

As you were about to give up and turn away, a hand shot up from behind you, effortlessly reaching the book and pulling it down.

You turned around, heart skipping a beat. There, standing just behind you, was Sunghoon. He held the book you had been struggling to get, his expression unreadable.

“Need this?” he asked, his voice casual, almost too smooth.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. Something about the way he said that sent a strange shiver down your spine. It was as if he knew exactly what you were searching for, as if he had been waiting for you to look it up.

“Thanks,” you said, taking the book from him, but your hand brushed against his for a moment longer than necessary. A jolt of electricity shot through you, and you quickly pulled your hand away, your face flushing.

“No problem,” he replied smoothly, his eyes twinkling. “Figured you needed a little help.”

You watched him disappear into the rows of books, and the unease from earlier returned, settling deep into your bones.

--

You don’t even realize what you've walked into, do you? Your deliciousness is like a siren's song, luring me in, and I am a lost soul, destined to follow. I've got you now, and I won't let you go. I'll devour every last piece of you, leaving no part untouched, for you're a feast that I'll savor forever.

Your beauty, it's like a spell, casting a shadow over my heart, and I want to take and take, until you give me everything, for I crave the taste of your soul, the essence of your being.

I think of your skin, smooth as silk, and how it feels under my touch. I imagine the taste of your lips, sweet like nectar, and how they'd satisfy my every craving. I envision your body, and how it yields to my every caress.

I'll trace the map of your body with my hands, my lips, and my heart, marking every inch as my own.

I'll feast on your lips, kiss by kiss, until my soul is satiated. I'll drink from the well of your desire, quench my thirst, and be nourished by your passion. I'll explore the depths of your pleasure, discover the peaks of your ecstasy.

And when I've had my fill, my sweet, I'll still want more. For you're an endless ocean, a bottomless pit of pleasure, and I can never quench my thirst. I'll always want to dive deeper, explore further, and discover more.

--

You stared at the book in your hands as you made your way back to the counter. And once you sat behind the counter, you placed the book down in front of you, the sound of the pages flipping echoing softly in the quiet library.

You opened the book, the musty scent of old pages filling your nose as you began flipping through it, scanning the words and images. Each page was filled with descriptions of various demons, their powers, their origins, and their terrifying abilities. But you kept your focus, searching for the section you had come here for.

Incubus demons.

When you finally reached the right section, your heart pounded in your chest. The words jumped off the page, unsettlingly familiar. It was like the book was confirming everything you had felt and the more you read, the clearer it became that this was no coincidence.

Incubi, it said, were demons who thrived on energy—specifically life force. They were known to seduce their victims, using dreams, lust, and an overwhelming need for intimacy to drain them. They were powerful, manipulating their prey until they were completely drained, their energy absorbed by the demon.

But what caught your eye was the last part.

"Once an incubus claims someone, it forms a bond—one that cannot be easily broken. The victim becomes a vessel, their soul linked to the demon’s for eternity."

You froze, a cold shiver crawling down your spine. Eternity. Was that what had happened to you? Had you unknowingly made a pact with something otherworldly?

You could feel your pulse quicken as your mind raced. Had you been claimed by the demon? Was it already too late to turn back?

You closed the book abruptly, the sound of it thudding against the counter loudly. You couldn’t breathe. Your stomach twisted, and for a brief moment, you thought you might collapse right there.

Just then, you heard a voice, soft but clear, cutting through the storm of thoughts in your head.

"Are you okay?"

You looked up, startled, and saw Sunghoon standing there, a stack of books in his hands. His eyes were searching your face, brows furrowed in concern.

"Uh... yeah, I’m fine," you stammered, trying to act normal. But you could feel the flush creeping up your neck, the words of the book still fresh in your mind. You quickly gathered your composure and grabbed the books from him, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feelings swirling inside you.

You ran the books through the system, scanning the barcodes one by one, all the while acutely aware of how close Sunghoon was standing.

As you glanced down at the books, you couldn't help but notice the titles—all of them were romance novels. It felt... strange. You glanced back at Sunghoon, trying to read his expression.

"Romance, huh?" you said, attempting to make small talk as you finished scanning the last one. "Didn’t peg you for someone into these kinds of books."

He chuckled softly, a low, smooth sound that made your heart skip again. "I’m not really. But, you know, sometimes it's good to pretend."

You blinked, unsure if you were reading too much into the comment. His smile didn’t help—he always had that air of mystery, like he was saying something and nothing at the same time.

"Thanks for helping with the book earlier," you added, trying to steer the conversation back to something neutral. "I appreciate it."

He shrugged, grabbing the books from on the counter. "No problem. Just looking out for you."

The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. It felt like more than just a casual statement. Like he knew something you didn’t. Something you didn’t want to know.

You tried to push the feeling down. You had to stay focused. "Anything else you need?" you asked, attempting to keep things professional.

Sunghoon just smiled again, that strange glimmer in his eyes never fading. "For now, no," he said, his tone teasing. "But I’ll be around."

--

When your shift finally ended, the night had already settled in, the streets now cast in shadows. You clutched your bag tightly as you walked, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Eventually, you found yourself at the bridge, standing on the edge, the water below reflecting the lights.

You opened your bag, pulling out the crimson red book, the one you had tried so desperately to get rid of. As you held it, you could feel something radiating from it—a pull, tempting you to keep it, to keep following.

You shook, unable to tear your gaze away from the book, as if it were alive, trying to draw you into its dark power. What had happened to you? What had you gotten yourself into?

A cold sweat broke out along your spine, and for a moment, you thought you might lose control. With trembling hands, you lifted the book to toss it into the water, ready to rid yourself of it once and for all.

But just as you were about to throw it off the bridge, you heard a voice behind you, low and rough.

"Hey," the voice called out, sending a shiver down your spine.

You froze, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you turned around.

Standing there was a man—a stranger. His features were sharp, his eyes narrowed in a way that made your stomach turn. There was something off about him, something unsettling in the way he watched you. His gaze was degrading, as if he had already sized you up.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here alone?" he asked, his voice slithering through the air.

You instinctively took a step back, clutching the book tighter in your hands, there was no mistaking the way his eyes lingered on you, his stare lingering a little too long.

His lips twisted into a grin, and it made your blood run cold. "You don't look like you're in a hurry to leave."

His tone, that smile—everything about him screamed danger, your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you fought the urge to run, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

Your breath caught in your throat as the man took a step toward you, his hand reaching out with an unsettling determination. This was it. He was going to—

Suddenly, there was a sharp thud, and the man was thrown backward, crashing to the ground with a pained grunt.

You gasped, startled, and watched in disbelief as a familiar figure stepped besides you.

Sunghoon.

Without hesitation, he lunged at the man, throwing a fist that landed with a sickening crack against the stranger’s face. The man tried to scramble to his feet, but Sunghoon was relentless, his fists moving with precision, each punch landing harder than the last. You could hear the force of each strike, the sound of flesh hitting bone. The man barely had a chance to defend himself, crumpling beneath the force of Sunghoon’s blows.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, transfixed by the brutal scene before you. There was something terrifyingly powerful about Sunghoon right now, his movements were swift and calculated, as if he were punishing the man for something more than just the assault on you.

Your hands shook as you held the book tighter to your chest, you didn’t know why, but it felt like it was alive, pulsing in your grip.

The book was vibrating, faintly at first, but then stronger, almost as though it was purring, responding to the violence — to you.

You ignored it, trying to focus on what was happening in front of you. Sunghoon wasn’t stopping, his anger mounting with each punch.

The man on the ground groaned, clearly dazed, unable to defend himself. Finally, Sunghoon stopped, standing over the man, his breath coming in heavy, measured gasps.

"You shouldn’t have done that," Sunghoon said, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze unwavering. He turned to look at you, eyes locking with yours.

You were still frozen, your heart pounding in your chest, and you couldn’t make sense of it all. The way Sunghoon was acting, the way he looked at you—it was like he wasn’t the same person you’d met in the library. This was someone else.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice softer now, though there was still a sharpness to it.

You nodded, though your voice felt stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even find the words to thank him, or to ask why he’d come out of nowhere to help you. Why was he here?

Sunghoon glanced down at the man on the ground, his expression unreadable, before he turned to you again, taking a step closer.

"You’re safe now," he said, his voice more comforting this time, though the intensity never fully left his gaze.

Your hands trembled as you clutched the book tighter, trying to shake off the strange feeling it was giving you.

Sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning you before he helped you steady yourself.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, his tone lighter, he glanced at the book in your hands, and that smile of his grew, just slightly, as if pleased.

He led you away from the bridge, the cool night air now feeling heavy around you. His presence beside you was comforting, but at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the sense that he was guiding you in more ways than one.

You looked up at him, and he caught your gaze, his smile widening ever so slightly. "Seems like you’ve taken quite the interest in that," he said, his voice soft but with an edge you couldn’t quite place. "You’re holding it tightly."

Your fingers ached as you continued to clutch the book to your chest, your heart still hammering from the encounter. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, too overwhelmed by everything that had happened.

"You shouldn’t have to worry anymore," he said, his voice lowering. “You’re safe now.”

Then why did something not feel right? Sunghoon was far too calm, too understanding. As if he already knew everything—everything that had been happening to you.

The way he looked at you, like he was watching, waiting for something.

And for the first time, you realized something that made your stomach twist in unease.

He wasn’t just helping you.

He was guiding you.

--

The moment you stepped through the door of your apartment, you immediately noticed it. The book was still pressed against your chest, and for the first time, it felt almost suffocating. You hadn’t even realized how tightly you had been holding onto it the entire time—your knuckles white. It was like it had become a part of you, and that realization twisted something deep within your gut.

You couldn't stand it anymore.

Without even thinking, you hurled the book against the wall, your heart racing as the impact caused it to thud loudly, the book sliding to the floor. The sound echoed in the quiet apartment, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat, as if your body had finally caught up to the chaos inside your mind.

For a moment, there was silence. The book lay on the floor, the cover staring up at you, as if mocking your decision. But you were too exhausted to care anymore. Too worn out by everything that had happened.

You stumbled fowards, your legs giving way, and before you knew it, you were sinking onto the couch. Your mind was foggy, too tired to think. Your body ached, your head pounded, but the exhaustion was overpowering. The last thing you saw before your eyes fluttered shut was the book, sitting on the floor.

And the only thing you could think of as you drifted off was how you felt that it wasn’t done with you yet.

--

You felt so... relaxed? It was like your body was weightless, wrapped in warmth and comfort. The air was thick, almost too hot, and the bed beneath you felt too soft, like sinking into a cloud. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling above you. A grand queen-sized bed stretched out beneath you, luxurious sheets tangled around your legs.

Your head was still foggy, like you were waking from a deep, dreamless sleep. But the discomfort of the heat around you was immediate, and you instinctively pushed the covers away, trying to breathe through the thick air.

That’s when you felt it.

A weight on your body, pressing down, holding you where you lay. Your breath hitched as the sensation of someone’s lips—warm, urgent—pressed against yours. The shock of it made your chest tighten, and you gasped, eyes wide as you tried to push the figure off of you, only to find you couldn’t move.

A voice, soft but laced with something darker, echoed in your mind, almost like a whisper, “Give in.”

Your body stiffened, the words familiar yet chilling. The lips on yours were insistent, coaxing you into submission. You couldn't understand—how did you get here? Why was everything so warm? And why did you feel this strange pull?

The kiss deepened as your breath quickened, and the moment your hands tried to reach above you, they tightened their grip. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think.

You wanted to push away. You wanted to scream. But you couldn’t. You were trapped in this sensation, helpless.

You felt so good. So pleasant. Every part of you hummed with a warmth, an overwhelming comfort, like sinking into the softest dream. But with it came an exhaustion, a draining weariness you couldn't fight.

As the lips moved from your mouth down to your jaw, trailing soft, slow kisses, you felt your body go limp beneath them. You tried to stay alert, to keep your mind sharp, but the sensation was too much. The warmth, the pleasure, it was like it was melting you from the inside out. Your energy, your strength, seemed to vanish with every kiss, every press of lips against your sensitive skin. You couldn't fight it. It felt too good.

A small gasp escaped your lips as they moved lower, their touch leaving a trail of warmth on your neck, then your collarbone. The sensation was both soothing and dizzying, like you were drifting between wakefulness and sleep. You felt so tired, but the pleasure pulling you under kept you from fully giving in.

Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, quickening with each new kiss, each lingering touch. The sound of your breath was louder than the rest of the world, but even that was fading. You could barely hold onto your thoughts, the desire to move, to push, slipped further and further away.

And then you realized—there was nothing you could do. You didn’t want to.

You felt something deep inside you stir, a craving, a hunger that matched the pull of the lips against your skin. You were being drained, yes, but it also felt like it was what you needed.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to it. You let your body go, let the exhaustion wash over you, let yourself fall into the warmth of the kiss. You didn’t even care where it was leading anymore.

You felt your body give in completely as the lips on your neck paused, lingering there, and you could hear the soft hum of approval, a low sound of satisfaction. And just like that, it was too late to resist.

As you surrendered to the moment, the hands, ever so gently, pushed your shirt up, exposing more of your skin, as the heat in the room seemed to rise.

The lips, now free to explore, trailed kisses down your stomach, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin there. His hands slid down to your waist, he squeezed gently, pulling you closer, and you felt his body press against yours.

You didn’t want to fight it anymore. Your body was giving in, responding to him, reacting in ways you couldn't fully comprehend. It was as though you were caught in a web, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

His lips moved from your neck, tracing the sensitive line of your jaw before they found your lips again, kissing you. The kiss was hungry now, deeper. You felt his hands tighten around you, as though he couldn’t get close enough, as though you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

And somehow, it felt... right.

You felt so hazy, your mind clouded by a warm, soothing fog that made it impossible to think clearly. Everything was blurred, all thoughts slipping through your fingers like sand. The weight of your body felt distant, like you were floating. You couldn’t move your limbs, couldn’t even feel them anymore.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of the lips that pressed gently against yours, warm and insistent. Every time they left, it felt like you were waiting, craving the return of that contact. And when they did, you kissed them back instinctively, your lips parting slightly to welcome them.

"Let go," it murmured softly, the sound of it like silk against your mind. "Enjoy this. Let the pleasure take over. You deserve it."

You shivered, feeling the warmth of the words settle deep inside you, pushing aside any lingering doubts, any hesitation. The voice continued, coaxing you, convincing you that this feeling, this moment, was all that mattered. That you didn’t need to resist, that you could simply surrender and feel everything without fear.

There was no fight left in you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt completely at peace. You didn’t have to think, you didn’t have to worry— just the feeling of being taken care of, loved, and wanted.

You closed your eyes, lost in the comfort, the warmth, and the voice that guided you deeper into the haze.

--

You woke up suddenly, your mind heavy, still clouded in a haze, and found yourself lying on the couch. You blinked, trying to shake off the fog, and as you looked around, everything seemed perfectly normal.

One thing wasn't normal, though. It was the warmth, the sticky, almost suffocating heat clinging to your skin, like honey trapping you in its sweetness. The sensation was odd, and it was paired with an exhaustion that weighed you down, a tiredness so deep you could barely keep your eyes open.

You managed to sit up and push yourself to your feet, dragging yourself to the bathroom, needing to see your reflection, needing to understand what was happening. The mirror greeted you with an unexpected shock.

Your neck and collarbone were covered in marks—deep, almost bruised-looking impressions, some faint, others dark, like someone had pressed their lips into your skin too hard, leaving their mark. You barely recognized the face staring back at you. Your cheeks were flushed, the kind of flush you’d never get from just a long day, and your eyes looked distant.

You kept staring at your reflection, eyes wide in disbelief, and slowly pulled your shirt off, but what greeted you beneath your clothes made your breath catch in your throat.

Handprints. Dark, unmistakable imprints stretched across your waist, your hips, and even down to your thighs. It was like someone had gripped you there with force, leaving their mark on your skin, as if they couldn’t resist claiming every part of you.

You stood there, frozen, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. The more you looked, the more it seemed to confirm your theory.

An incubus had done this.

But the memories were murky, like a dream fading in the light of day. You couldn't remember the specifics, but the evidence was undeniable.

You were cursed.

The thought sent a shiver through your body. There was no other explanation. It was all pointing to something beyond your control, something that wanted you, that had claimed you.

But what did it want from you? Why you?

The mirror reflected your confusion, your unease, and your disbelief. Your hand instinctively reached up to touch the marks, your fingers brushing lightly over your skin. Each touch sent a wave of heat through you, a reminder that something was still there, still affecting you, even when you had no idea what was really going on.

--

Days passed in a strange blur after that. Each time you tried to focus, tried to pull yourself together, the exhaustion dragged you down further. You couldn’t remember when it had started, when your body began to feel like it was no longer your own, but it was now a part of your reality. Every night, you’d find yourself drifting off to sleep, only to wake up once again in that grand bed, under the same warmth, your body burning.

The familiar sensation of lips on yours, the heat of his hands—each kiss drained you, leaving you weak and confused. It felt as though the very life force was being sucked out of you, but you were too tired to resist. Too tired to care. The next morning, you would wake up again, just as exhausted, with the marks on your skin deepening, the imprint of his touch still there. You tried to push through the haze, but it felt like you were walking through quicksand.

And then there was Sunghoon.

He was there for you in ways you couldn’t explain. It started small—offering to walk you to class, making sure you ate something, checking in on you when you seemed too tired to function. You didn’t fight it. You were too exhausted to.

You would often find yourself slumped at the counter, fighting to keep your eyes open, and there he was, showing up with something to drink or a comforting word, offering you a brief respite from the overwhelming fatigue that seemed to cling to your every movement. You didn’t realize at first that you were relying on him, leaning on him without question.

But Sunghoon didn’t mind. In fact, he thrived in this new dynamic, in your dependence on him. He reveled in the way you’d look to him for comfort, for answers, for protection. You didn’t know how much it fed into his desires, how much he enjoyed being the one to offer you care, to have you rely on him completely.

And you? You were too tired to notice. Too lost in the fog of exhaustion, the haze of what was happening to you.

But.. the more time you spent with Sunghoon, the more you began to notice the oddities that you’d once brushed off. He was always there, always watching, always making sure you were okay. But something about him felt... off. It wasn’t just his constant attention—it was the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, before you even asked for it. It was the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long, his smile a little too knowing, like he was seeing something in you that no one else did.

Then, there was the issue with his past. Sunghoon never spoke about it. When you asked about his family or where he grew up, his answers were vague, brushing off the topic with a quick change of subject. No traces of a life outside of the moments he spent with you.

It didn’t make sense. You had seen him around campus, so you knew he wasn’t a complete ghost. But there were no photos, no friends tagging him on social media, no history to trace. He was just... there. As if he had stepped out of nowhere and appeared in your life, and now he was all you could focus on.

Something about him felt wrong, and the pieces were starting to fall into place. But you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning on him, allowing him to take care of you. You didn’t know what to think anymore, especially since you were so tired, so lost in the fog of exhaustion that you couldn’t tell if your thoughts were your own or if they were being influenced by something else.

So, you decided to test your theory—to see what would happen if you suddenly started ignoring him. It wasn’t easy. Sunghoon always seemed to find a way to be around you, whether it was sitting next to you in class or showing up at the library while you worked. But you were determined. You stopped texting him back, avoided his gaze, and made excuses to leave whenever he tried to engage you in conversation.

At first, he didn’t seem bothered by it. He would simply smile when you dodged him, as if he already knew why you were doing it. That unnerved you more than anything else. It was like he could see right through you, like he knew your thoughts before you did.

But as the days went on, his demeanor started to shift. His smiles became tighter, his gaze colder, and the once-comforting presence he exuded started to feel suffocating. He wasn’t following you outright, but every time you turned a corner, you’d catch him in your peripheral vision—leaning against a wall, walking just a few steps behind you, always near enough to remind you that he was there.

One night, after a particularly long shift at the library, you came home and collapsed onto your couch, exhaustion washing over you. The moment you closed your eyes, you found yourself back in that bed again.

But this time, there was a whisper. A deep, seductive voice you hadn’t heard before.

"You can’t ignore me forever."

Your eyes snapped open, your heart pounding. You were back on your couch, drenched in sweat, and your hands were trembling. You instinctively gripped the edge of the couch as you tried to ground yourself, but the tremor in your fingers betrayed how shaken you really were. The room was quiet—too quiet. It felt as though something was watching you, just out of sight.

Your gaze darted toward the windows, scanning for any sign of movement, but the curtains were still drawn shut. Slowly, you reached for your phone on the coffee table, wanting the comfort of a light, a distraction—anything. As the screen lit up, you noticed the time. 3:03 a.m.

And then you saw it.

A single notification. It wasn’t from anyone in your contacts, just an unknown number. You hesitated before opening it, dread settling in your stomach like a lead weight. The message read:

"Stop running."

You dropped the phone as though it had burned you, the clatter breaking the suffocating silence. Your breaths came shallow and quick as you stared at the device, afraid it would light up again.

No. This had to stop.

You pushed yourself off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom, your legs weak beneath you. Splashing cold water on your face, you tried to steady your breathing.

You gripped the edge of the sink, your knuckles turning white as you leaned forward, staring at your pale reflection in the mirror. Your breaths came shallow and uneven as you tried to process everything.

It didn’t make sense—none of it did. But your thoughts kept circling back to Sunghoon. His perfect timing, his uncanny presence, the way he seemed to know more than he let on.

Your throat felt dry as you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to say it.

“Sunghoon?”

The sound of his name echoed faintly in the small bathroom. You waited, holding your breath, your heart pounding louder and louder in your chest. Nothing happened.

For a moment, you felt ridiculous, like you were spiraling into paranoia. You let out a shaky exhale and closed your eyes, trying to collect yourself. But then, just as you started to relax, you felt it.

A heat began to radiate behind you, warm and heavy, pressing against your back like a presence. The air shifted, and before you could react, a soft whisper brushed against your ear.

“Did you miss me?”

Your eyes snapped open, wide with terror, as you froze in place. The mirror reflected nothing behind you, but the heat remained, and the voice lingered, teasingly low and intimate.

“Y-you’re not real,” you stammered, gripping the sink tighter, refusing to turn around.

The voice chuckled, soft and amused. “Oh, but I am. You called me, didn’t you? Thinking of me? Dreaming of me?”

A shiver ran down your spine as the warmth seemed to creep closer, pressing against you like an invisible embrace. You gasped, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of whatever was behind you.

“I-I wasn’t—”

“Liar,” the voice interrupted, a trace of playfulness in its tone. “You’ve been looking for answers, haven’t you?”

You felt something brush against your shoulder, light as a feather but enough to make your skin tingle. Your breathing quickened as the sensation spread, leaving you dizzy and disoriented.

“Stop,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

But the voice only hummed in response, low and pleased. “You can’t run from me. You’ve known that all along.”

“I never wanted this!” you shouted, your voice trembling but firm, defiance breaking through your fear. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

The air around you grew colder, and suddenly a hand—a firm, invisible grip—wrapped around your throat. You gasped, your hands flying up instinctively to claw at nothing.

“Oh, but you did,” the voice purred, smooth and dark, vibrating through the room. The grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your pulse race, but not enough to harm you. It was a warning.

“You put this on yourself the moment you read the words in that book,” the voice hissed, hot breath fanning over your ear. “Qui me legit, fiat noster ligamen aeternum. Do you even know what that means?”

You shook your head frantically, tears pricking at your eyes as you struggled against the phantom hand holding you in place. The voice chuckled, low and condescending.

“It means, ‘Who reads me, let our bond be eternal.’ You invited me in.”

Your breath hitched as the words hit you like a punch to the gut. The book. The book in the basement. The words you read aloud.

“That’s not possible,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “It’s just a stupid book. It—it can’t be real!”

The laughter that followed was sharp, almost mocking. “Oh, it’s very real. And now, so am I.”

In the mirror, the reflection began to change. The shadow behind you shifted, growing more defined, more solid. Your eyes widened in horror as the silhouette morphed, taking shape, and then—

There he was.

Sunghoon.

Your heart stopped. You couldn’t believe it, but there was no mistaking him. The sharp jawline, the intense gaze, the faint smirk curling his lips. It was him.

Sunghoon stood behind you, his hand still firmly around your throat, his touch searing and impossible to ignore. His other hand came to rest lightly on your waist, and you shivered under the weight.

“Surprise,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as his eyes locked with yours in the mirror.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, panic rising in your chest. “This— you’re not—”

“Not what?” Sunghoon interrupted, tilting his head as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Not human? Not the man who’s been taking care of you? Or not the one who’s been in your dreams, night after night?”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. The pieces were falling into place, but they painted a picture you didn’t want to see.

“You were so lonely,” Sunghoon continued, his voice softer now, almost tender. “So desperate for someone to understand you. And I came to you, didn’t I? Gave you exactly what you needed.”

His hand on your waist tightened slightly, his grip on your throat loosening just enough for you to take a shaky breath.

“But you’re scared now. Why?” he asked, his tone almost teasing, as if he already knew the answer. “You’ve enjoyed this, haven’t you? The attention, the way I’ve made you feel.”

“No,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. “You tricked me. This isn’t what I wanted.”

Sunghoon’s smirk widened, his reflection in the mirror impossibly calm, his eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous.

“You can lie to yourself all you want,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “But you can’t lie to me.”

“We’re bound now, you and I,” he whispered, his voice soft but laced with finality. “You can’t run from me. You can’t hide. And deep down, you don’t want to.”

You stared at him in the mirror, your chest heaving, your mind screaming for you to fight back, to do something, anything. But your body betrayed you, frozen in place as Sunghoon’s reflection smiled, dark and triumphant.

His grip tightened around your arms as he suddenly spun you around effortlessly, your back slamming against the cold countertop. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the impact sent a jolt through your body, and you found yourself face to face with him.

Only... it wasn’t entirely him.

Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you took in his appearance. Sunghoon was still the same—his sharp features, his impossibly handsome face—but now, his true form was on full display.

Two curved, jet-black horns protruded from his head, his ears were pointed, inhumanly sharp, twitching slightly as though attuned to every sound you made. A pair of massive, leathery wings stretched out behind him. His skin held a faint reddish tint now, and his eyes...

They weren’t what you’d grown accustomed to.

They were blood-red, burning with an intensity that made your knees weak.

As your gaze traveled lower, you caught sight of a sleek black tail swishing behind him, the pointed tip moving back and forth like a serpent poised to strike.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon asked, his voice low and smooth, laced with amusement.

You couldn’t answer. Your lips parted, but no sound came out as you stared up at him, utterly frozen. He leaned in closer, the heat radiating from him making it even harder to think, to breathe.

“You should’ve known,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You should’ve felt it. I’ve been hiding in plain sight this whole time, waiting for you to figure it out.”

“Sunghoon...” you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you tried to push him away, but your arms felt like they were moving through water—slow, weak, powerless.

He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent heat flooding through your chest. “Still clinging to the illusion, huh? Poor thing.”

His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with an almost tender touch.

“This is the real me,” he said softly, his voice dripping with dangerous charm. “And now that you’ve seen it, there’s no going back.” His wings shifted slightly behind him, the sound making your stomach twist in unease. His tail flicked once, curling against your leg in a way that made your skin crawl—and, to your shame, sent a strange warmth pooling in your chest.

“You’re lying,” you said weakly, your voice barely audible. “This isn’t happening...”

Sunghoon tilted his head, his expression softening just enough to make it even more unsettling. “Lying?” he repeated, his voice almost offended. “Sweet thing, everything I’ve done has been the truth. You just didn’t want to see it.”

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his red eyes locking onto yours with a hypnotic intensity. “But now you can’t ignore it, can you? You can’t ignore me.”

You gasped, your body trembling as his tail coiled tighter around your leg, holding you in place. “You belong to me now,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice final. “And nothing will change that.”

You clenched your eyes shut, your entire body trembling as you willed it all to disappear. You thought maybe—just maybe—if you denied it long enough, it would go away. That he would go away.

But it didn’t work.

Instead, you heard his low, amused chuckle. The sound was rich and dark, crawling into your ears and embedding itself into your mind.

“You can’t escape me,” he murmured. And before you could protest, his lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath and overwhelming your senses.

The kiss was searing, a fire that burned its way through your body and left you paralyzed. It wasn’t soft or careful—it was commanding, leaving no room for resistance.

Sunghoon...

Sunghoon was an incubus.

Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to fight, but your body wouldn’t listen. The warmth from his lips spread through you like molten lava, making you weak, making you feel... good. Too good.

You tried to turn your head, to break the connection, but his hand gripped your jaw firmly, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a skill that made your knees feel like jelly, and the heat radiating off him felt almost suffocating.

When he finally pulled back, your head spun, your breaths shallow and uneven. His glowing red eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the satisfaction etched across his face.

“See?” he purred, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’re not resisting me.”

You shook your head weakly, trying to deny it. “You’re not... I won’t...” you stammered, but even as the words left your lips, they sounded hollow.

Sunghoon leaned down again, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You already gave yourself to me the moment you opened that book.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you struggled to comprehend his words. You’d read the words without understanding what they meant, unknowingly binding yourself to him.

“You belong to me now,” he said, his voice soft but firm, his hand trailing down to rest on your waist. “No running. No escaping.”

His tail flicked lazily at his side, as if he were toying with you, enjoying your fear and confusion.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sunghoon continued, his tone shifting to something almost... tender. “You won’t need anyone else. You won’t want anyone else.”

You clenched your fists, trying to fight against the pull he had on you, the way his words seemed to seep into your mind like poison.

“What do you want from me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I already have what I want,” he said simply, his hand tilting your chin up so you couldn’t look away. “You.”

His hand slid up to your throat again, his grip firm but not enough to hurt—just enough to remind you who was in control. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, and before you could think or protest, his lips captured yours again.

This time, the kiss was more intense. It was intoxicating, a dizzying, heady sensation that left you feeling drunk and high at the same time, though there wasn’t a hint of nausea.

Instead, you felt consumed, like your body and mind were being submerged in a warm ocean. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that left you breathless.

Your hands gripped the edge of the bathroom counter behind you, trying to ground yourself, but the heat only grew. It curled in your stomach, spread up your spine, and flooded every corner of your being.

Sunghoon’s lips left yours only briefly, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed down your jaw, tracing a path to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You couldn’t respond, your head spinning, your body trembling. Every word he spoke seemed to sink into your skin, fusing with your very being.

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your ear. “No one else can make you feel like this. No one else can take care of you like I can.”

When he finally pulled back, his red eyes burned into yours, glowing with satisfaction.

“Say it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your pulse. “Say you’re mine.”

You hesitated, your lips parting, but no words came out. Your mind was a swirling mess of emotions, torn between the primal pull he had over you and the small flicker of defiance still burning in your chest.

Sunghoon leaned closer, his smirk returning as he tilted your chin up slightly. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’ll say it soon enough.”

With that, he released you, stepping back just enough to let you breathe, though the heat still clung to your skin like a second layer. Your knees felt weak, your body trembling, and you gripped the counter to keep from collapsing.

“Rest for now,” he said, his tone almost affectionate. “We’ll see each other again soon.”

And with a flick of his tail and a low hum of satisfaction, he vanished, leaving you alone in the dimly lit bathroom, your body still warm and your mind reeling from what had just happened.

--

It didn’t take long for you to realize that Sunghoon’s persistence wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation—it was something far deeper. When an incubus claimed a human, it seemed, their desire turned into a relentless obsession. Sunghoon took every opportunity to have you, to pull you into the haze of his presence, leaving you breathless and weak in his wake.

In the library, you were shelving books in the far corner, but then, you felt it—the familiar warmth crawling up your spine. Before you could turn, his hands were on your waist, spinning you around and pressing you against the shelf.

“Sunghoon—” you started, but your words were cut off as his lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry.

The books nearly toppled from the shelf as his body pinned you in place. His hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tightly before lifting you up effortlessly, your back pressed to the shelf. His kisses left you dizzy, your hands clinging to his shoulders for balance as his lips trailed down your jaw, his voice low murmurs.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your body trembling. He smiled, his red eyes glowing faintly. “Couldn’t help myself,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

In the kitchen, you thought you’d have a moment of peace as you cooked dinner, but of course, he appeared again.

You didn’t even hear him approach before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter.

“Sunghoon!” you protested, but your voice wavered as his lips found yours, silencing any resistance.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them slightly as he stood between them, his kisses consuming. The heat of the stove was nothing compared to the fire he ignited in you with every touch.

“You taste better than anything you’re cooking,” he teased against your lips, as you shivered under his touch.

Even in class, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. At first, it was subtle—a hand resting on your thigh under the desk. But his touch was anything but innocent. His fingers pressed into your skin, his grip firm enough to leave an imprint through the fabric of your jeans.

One day, you made the mistake of wearing a skirt to class. His reaction was immediate.

His eyes darkened the moment he saw you, his gaze lingering on your legs with a hunger. The skirt seemed to drive him wild, and he didn’t bother to hide the want in his eyes as he took the seat beside you.

During the lecture, his hand found its way to your thigh again, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on your bare skin. Every touch sent shivers up your spine, your pulse quickening as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

“You wore this for me, didn’t you?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

You didn’t answer, your face burning as you tried to focus on the professor’s voice. But Sunghoon wasn’t letting you off so easily. His hand slid higher, just enough to make you squirm in your seat.

By the end of class, you were a mess, your legs trembling as you tried to stand. Sunghoon, of course, looked perfectly composed.

But one event made you realize just how far Sunghoon's obsession had gone happened unexpectedly.

You had just finished getting ready, dressed to go out to the club, your outfit on point, and your makeup perfectly done. You were about to put on some music for the drive when suddenly, you heard a soft hum from behind you.

The sound was so familiar, so calming that you couldn’t help but pause. The familiar haze crept in, clouding your thoughts. Before you could even process what was happening, you felt a shift in your surroundings. The next thing you knew, you were no longer sitting in the front seat of your car but instead found yourself in the backseat, sitting on Sunghoon's lap.

“You going somewhere?” he asked, his voice smooth, leaning back, his eyes filled with contentment. He seemed to be enjoying the view of you on his lap, your body pressed against his, all dressed up.

You were about to move off, muttering to yourself about how utterly stupid this situation was.

However, before you could push him away, Sunghoon's hands went around your hips. He pulled you closer, his body pressing into yours, and then, with a sudden thrust, he lifted you off his lap.

The movement was unexpected, and it caught you off guard. You let out a surprised squeal as you found yourself being moved to lay down on the backseat. Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing down on yours, his eyes filled with a fiery passion.

You were on the brink of speaking, your mind filled with thoughts you wanted to express, when suddenly, Sunghoon's lips crashed down on yours, silencing your words in an instant.

His lips, soft yet demanding, devoured yours, a perfect blend of tenderness and dominance. Sunghoon groaned into the kiss, a deep, raw sound that reverberated through your core. His hands found their way to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. And as his kiss deepened, you felt him wrap your legs around his hips. You could feel the heat of his body, the solidness of his muscles, and the intensity.

You felt a sudden urge to pull away, to regain some sense of control and composure. With a gentle push, you tried to create some distance between you and Sunghoon. But Sunghoon, ever attuned to your every move, wasn’t about to let you escape so easily. As you tried to shift, reaching for the car door, his hands swiftly grabbed your waist, his strong arms pulling you closer. His chest pressed against your back, and you turned your head, your breath quickening as Sunghoon leaned over, his face now inches from yours.

His voice, soft and teasing, broke through your thoughts. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his tone low, almost playful.

You couldn’t find the words to answer, but you could feel the heat rising between you.

Sunghoon, sensing your hesitation, nuzzled his face against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. The soft touch of his lips traced a path along your neck, sending a jolt of warmth through you. You shivered at the sensation, unable to stop the flutter in your chest.

"Sunghoon..." you breathed, trying to push him away again, but his hands tightened around your waist. He didn’t let you move, holding you there.

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “You want me to slow down?” he teased, his voice amused.

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat between you both. The car, once cool, now felt stifling, the air thick. You glanced over at the windows, noticing that the glass had fogged up, the condensation creeping in.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you tried to focus, but it was hard with him so near, his breath warm against your neck. You could feel him pressed against your back, his hands still holding you close.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered again, your voice barely a breath, caught between uncertainty and desire. You shifted slightly, trying to pull away, but he gently tugged you back, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“Why resist?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it, a quiet demand. His lips brushed against your earlobe, sending another shiver down your spine. “We both know you don’t want to.”

The fog on the windows seemed to grow thicker, the air growing warmer with every passing second, as if the space between you was becoming smaller.

You didn’t answer him right away, just closing your eyes for a brief moment, trying to clear your mind.

But Sunghoon's voice broke the silence as he gazed at you. "You look perfect," he said, his eyes roving over your body, taking in every detail. "So delectable, it's as if you're offering yourself on a silver platter."

His hands, which had been resting on your waist, slowly slid downwards, tracing the curves of your hips with a gentle touch.

"I want to ruin your makeup," he said, his voice low. "I want to mark you as mine, to leave my touch on you."

His hands, which had been gently caressing your body, suddenly tightened around your hips. With a swift movement, he flipped you over, and you found yourself lying on your back, staring up at him with surprise.

"I want to look at you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I want to see your beautiful face, your eyes, your lips, as I kiss you."

His lips, soft yet demanding, pressed against yours, a perfect show of passion. His hands roamed freely, tracing the curves of your body. He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, a gentle caress that sent a rush of pleasure through your body.

Guess this is what happens when you get claimed by an incubus in love.

a/n: well.. i have no other words. this had been sitting in my drafts for awhile so, yeah :)

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Bold ones are untaggable | Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3

[love-quinn]

—PEACE OF MIND

summary — when carmen finds out that you're putting yourself in danger to come in to your waitressing job at the bear, he admittedly gets pissed. he's not super proud of his reaction, but the two of you manage to work something out to ease his worries.

warnings — swearing, mentions of customers being assholes, the implication that if reader isn't being fed at the restaurant she doesn't eat due to money reasons, very brief mentions/implications of the possibility of reader being attacked at night

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, not established relationship

pronouns — she/her, reader is HEAVILY implied to be female, also there's technically no pronouns in this one but i consider this to be the same waitress reader as my last one which does have pronouns

word count — 1.9k

note — this can 10000% be read as a standalone but i do have another carmy x waitress fic here that i think takes place kinda in the same universe if you wanna check that one out?? i hope u enjoy <333

If you were somebody who wasn’t a fan of the cold, then Chicago wasn’t the city for you. It’s one of your least favourite parts of living in Illinois, having to wear four layers to bed if you don't want to freeze in your sleep. Your apartment doesn’t have proper heating because proper heating is for rich people, apparently. You barely make enough to afford rent as it is. 

You’re doing fine. You make rent and utilities, you eat lunch and dinner at the restaurant most days. You’re not swimming in gold coins by no means, but you’re fine. That’s the reason you show up early to every single shift, if you’re being honest, you’re guaranteed at least a sandwich. 

The fact that it makes you look like a dedicated employee doesn’t hurt either.

Even when you have to trek from the train platform after getting off the L. You’re not the first person punching in the code to the service entrance that afternoon, but the kitchen is free of yelling. Sydney’s at the end of the line, it’s her shift for Family, and she flashes you a smile as you shove your duffel into your locker.

It’s not raining outside but the air is so cold and damp outside, and you dab your face with a towel. The kitchen is so much warmer than outside that for a moment it’s uncomfortable. Sydney watches you out of the corner of her eye as she sautes a collection of vegetables. “Are you alright? Is it wet out there?”

You shake your head, grabbing your apron and using the mirror you hung up on the back of your door to fix your appearance. “Just cold, sorry. I’ll be fine. You get in okay?”

Sydney nods, holding out a spoon for you, hand cupped to prevent anything from landing on the floor. You don’t question it, opening your mouth and accepting the sauce while trying to minimise the contact between your mouth and the spoon as much as possible. “Fuck, that’s good. Is there sesame oil in there?”

You didn’t know a whole lot about food if you were honest, there’s a reason that you’re not a member of the kitchen staff. But Sydney’s been teaching you slowly but surely how to recognise different flavours, which ones go best together, which ones don’t.

Her eyes light up. “Yes! You like it?”

You shut your locker, moving to stand right behind her. Your chin lands on her shoulder, watching the way she rotates her medley of ingredients. You and Sydney have started becoming actual friends rather than just work friends, the two of you went out to dinner last Sunday, miraculously neither of you had to work. “Love it, need any help?”

“No, you’re all good. Go find Richie, I’m sure he needs help with whatever shit he’s doing.”

You leave her alone with a squeeze on the elbow, heading out into the dining room to find Richie. Richie isn’t out there but you do find Carmen pulling the chairs off the tables. You don’t bother talking, you and Carmen both appreciate the quiet in a workplace as loud as the restaurant. The second you put the first chair down Carmen is flinching. “You’re early,” he says, trying not to show his irritation.

He’d left the kitchen to feel productive while being alone, but he doesn’t want to yell at you. You deal with that enough. Yelling in the kitchen is natural, it’s fucking loud in there. If he doesn’t yell, he doesn’t get heard. People aren’t moving fast enough, people aren’t using proper technique, they’re running out of ingredients, things are being moved. If Carmen didn’t yell in the kitchen it would probably burn down somehow.

You deal with all that and you have to keep a smile on your face. You get yelled at for mistakes that other people make, and you never yell back. You take it all and yeah, sometimes you need to step out into the kitchen with tears in your eyes, but you cop it all and you go back out there.

You don’t need Carmy yelling at you as well.

You shrug casually, smoothing the tablecloth. “I am a slave to the public transit system.” It’s less embarrassing than admitting you’re trying to save money by eating at work whenever you can. 

Carmen stops at that. He doesn’t know why that’s surprising to him. He’s always here before you and he’s always here after you leave. He assumed he’d never seen your car in the parking lot because of that, but apparently, it’s because you don’t have one. “You took the train here?”

It’s early afternoon and people are turning their headlights on already. The closest train station is a fair walk away and it’s freezing out there. 

You nod, not taking much notice of the change in tone. “Yeah, I usually do.”

Carmen’s abandoned the table he’s dressing to turn around and look at you. It’s almost completely dark outside, it’s the middle of winter. “You walk to work?”

You look up at him. “Yeah, Carm.” You’re really hoping he’ll drop it, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on the way you avoid looking at him. 

“That’s so fucking dumb,” he doesn’t mean to snap, but the mood in the room is frozen now. “It’s like two degrees out there, why the fuck would you do that?” You regret coming out to help him. Usually, this stuff is already done by the time you show up to work, early as usual. 

You put down the last chair at the table you’re working on and brush off your apron. “It’s not like I have any other choice, Carmen,” you’re trying to keep your voice even. The dining room is empty, it’s still, and it feels much more awkward than having the conversation anywhere else would’ve felt. “I don’t really have many other options.” 

You look around the dining room and decide that leaving Carmen to finish setup isn’t an awful fate. 

“Yes, you do!” He doesn’t drop it. His fists are clenched at his side to stop him from flinging his arms up in frustration. “You have so many other options! Why did you pick the fucking stupid one?” You can handle being yelled at. It’s a part of the job. It happens to you every single day without fail. You can handle it.

That doesn’t mean that you have to take it from Carmen, though.

“Stop it,” you don’t raise your voice at him, but you’re not quiet either.

“I just don’t fucking get it,” he huffs. Once he’s started he can’t make himself stop. 

You sigh, loudly. “Yeah, I’m not asking you to, Carmen. Okay, but don’t treat me like garbage because I can’t afford a car.”

That’s the final straw in the conversation with him, and you turn to go back into the kitchen. Maybe Richie will be playing Angry Birds on his phone in the office and he’ll let you watch. Carmen’s frown deepens. “What the fuck are you talking about? Who gives a shit that you can’t afford a car?” He dodges the table he was working on and rushes to follow you. He’s a lot less graceful than you always are with it and that’s without the tray of drinks. “Do you see that shit out there?” He stands in front of you now, pointing a heavy, tattooed arm out at the front window. “It’s fucking Chicago. You can’t be walking here in twenty fucking degrees, honey! Do you not get that? Look at you! If someone pulls a knife on you out there what the fuck are you gonna do?”

You’re frozen in front of him now. He’s throwing so much at you that you don’t know what to say. 

He’s going back to setting up now, but as he turns he blows out a breath. “Get that through your fucking head, yeah?”

That’s the part that frustrates you the most. He does this all the time, he presents you with ten different problems and no solutions. You don’t need Carmen to tell you how to live your life when you’re struggling as it is. “How else do you want me to get to work? It’s either that or you find a new fucking waitress, okay? So can we let it go? What the fuck do you want me to do about it, Carmen? ”

Carmen doesn’t want to let it go. You take the train in the fucking pouring rain and walk every night only to be yelled at by a bunch of assholes over steak. 

“I want you to not walk through Chicago in the middle of the night!” He’s exasperated. “Yesterday you left after eleven, do you know how fucking dangerous that is? Fucking… Fuck?” It comes out as a question. “Why the fuck have you been leaving me here at night to go walk home alone? What the fuck do you think I’m here for?”

You’re getting upset by the yelling, and now that he’s said everything he needs to say he can see that he’s making you visibly panicked. “I don’t know what you want from me!” You let out finally, words exhaling from your chest with force. “Just tell me what you want or stop fucking yelling at me!”

He says your name quietly, letting out a frustrated huff. “Fucking- Okay. Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair and has to bend at the waist, leaning on the table you just fixed up, head buried in his arms. He takes a quick three second breather, trying to force down the ugly bubble of anger that’s rising familiarly to the surface, ready to spill out of his mouth. “If we are at the restaurant together and it’s the middle of the night, and I have a car…” he pauses, trying to give you time to follow along after previously overwhelming you. “... and you don’t.” You blink over at him. “Why the fuck would you not ask me to drive you home?”

“Because you’re my boss?” The answer comes easily, and it almost startles him how quickly you respond. “What? Why are you asking me this?”

Carmen knows, deep down, that he wouldn’t offer the same courtesy to Marcus or Fak or god forbid Richie. Sydney or Tina? If they asked, sure. But he would never stand in front of them in the dining room to yell at them for not asking. He likes to think it’s because he knows you’re different. You don’t yell back, you don’t antagonise him, you don’t push like they do. You handle it, and you’re gentle and you’re soft and for some fucking reason the idea of anything happening to you makes him feel like he has just been mugged in the street. 

“Just,” he waves a hand in front of his face. He can hear Sydney calling out, probably something important knowing her. “Please, honey, promise me that you’ll let me at least drive you to the fucking train station? Okay? For my own peace of mind. How far away from the station do you live?”

You tell him and he’s immediately groaning. “No, alright. I’m driving you home.” He sounds frustrated, not mad at you, but less than pleased. You don’t take it to heart. “Now please, go back inside the kitchen and fucking eat something, you’re giving me an irregular heartbeat.”

[solxamber]

Hi sol!!! My first request!!! :333

Yayy I'm happy we're moots <33 be sure to always stay healthy, drink water and stuff and have a good day/night/afternoon/evening :)

Anywaysss here's my request! (This is Romantic btw 😝)

Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with a reader (I say reader, just as a gender neutral term lol, also can the reader be in Pomefiore? :3) who is like a perfect role model for people— They're smart, kind and always understanding, mature. But what made them like the reader even more is that: even while they are all the aspects of a perfect model student; at the same time, they aren't like that sometimes.

They are understanding to people and responsible with their academics, but they also have a mischievous side— they can be a bit snarky and reckless in certain situations, they can effortlessly balance out their responsibility in school with their mischievousness (which sort of made them fall for the reader even more, bc they sound so cool and shi)

If the reader was with Ace, Epel. They'll show a more responsible and mature approach, they aren't entirely strict (unlike both of their housewardens) but will always tell them if they're doing something that would get them in trouble. But they do have slight instances where they are a bit out of character.. Like how the reader climbed a whole ass tree in their Pomefiore uniform to grab an item that was stuck on the tree (even if they could just grab it with magic) and gave it back

But on the other hand, If they were with Riddle, Deuce— I guess you could say that they can be responsible and mature, but with a more visible hint of mischief. They annoy Riddle for fun, teasing Deuce if he didn't know something that was pretty obvious already (they apologize, of course). Like how they annoyed Riddle so bad that they got collared, but came back with a strawberry tart that was decorated with red and white roses or how they slightly chuckle when Deuce is confused...

LIKE.. DO YOU GET MY VISION PELAKSEEEL ☹️☹️☹️😭😭😭 PLEASE GET IT... I KNOW MY ASK IS A BIT LING BUT THIS IS EATING MY BRAIN ☹️☹️

Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with a Pomefiore! reader

omg hi 🫶🫶 I think I saw the vision but let me know if you wanted something different!

Deuce Spade

Deuce had always admired how perfect you seemed—a Pomefiore student, embodying grace, responsibility, and intelligence. It was hard not to look up to you. You were someone who aced all your tests, helped classmates without a second thought, and stayed out of trouble. Or so he thought.

It wasn’t until you found him trying to fix an overgrown potion plant that things started to shift. Deuce, sweating buckets, was yanking at the roots of the plant, clearly struggling. “I don’t get it! How did this thing grow so fast? It’s like a magic beanstalk on steroids!”

You watched him for a moment, amused. “Deuce, you’re pulling at the wrong part. You need to loosen the soil around the roots first. Want some help?”

Deuce looked up, grateful, only to realize you weren’t offering your help with magic. Instead, you were already on your hands and knees, digging into the soil. The sight of a Pomefiore student willingly getting dirt under their perfectly manicured nails had him wide-eyed. He was about to say something when you added, “Come on, get in here, or we’ll be stuck dealing with this all day.”

It wasn’t just your willingness to get dirty that caught him off guard. It was your mischievousness. When he finally asked you about it, you just smiled, saying, “Being perfect is boring, Deuce. Sometimes, you’ve got to do things the fun way. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

And just like that, you made him laugh, breaking through his seriousness. You’d joke with him when he messed up, but never in a mean way. “Wow, Deuce, did you really forget to add the salamander tail? That’s like the second step of the potion.” And when he’d look at you in frustration, you’d quickly add, “I’m just teasing. Here, let’s fix it.”

He even started looking forward to your teasing. It wasn’t mocking—it was gentle, almost affectionate, and when you laughed, he found himself laughing too. One day, after a particularly exhausting lecture, you came up to him with a sly grin. “So, Deuce, how does it feel to know the square root of 144? Life-changing, right?”

He groaned but couldn’t help smiling. “Shut up…”

But the real turning point was when you climbed a tree in your pristine Pomefiore uniform. You were helping Deuce and Ace find something stuck in a tree—some stupid ball or something—and instead of using magic, you hauled yourself up the trunk like it was nothing. Deuce gawked, his brain short-circuiting as he watched you hop from branch to branch.

“You know you could’ve just… used magic, right?” he asked when you finally hopped back down, tossing the ball to Ace.

You shrugged, “Where’s the fun in that?”

From that day on, Deuce couldn’t stop thinking about you. Sure, you were responsible, smart, and reliable—but you were also fun, mischievous, and surprisingly laid-back. It was a combination that made his heart race. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to impress you more or just keep watching as you effortlessly balanced it all with that mischievous smirk.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was never the type to be easily impressed—especially by someone who didn’t follow the rules to the letter. But you? You were an exception. Not only were you the perfect role model, responsible and composed, but you somehow managed to bend the rules without ever really breaking them. It was infuriating.

The first time you caught his attention was when you strolled into the Heartslabyul rose garden, completely ignoring the chaos around you. Students were scurrying left and right, trying to meet the latest rule Riddle had imposed. But you? You sat down calmly with a book, unbothered by the hustle and bustle.

“What are you doing here?” Riddle asked, standing over you with his arms crossed. “Shouldn’t you be studying for the upcoming alchemy test?”

You looked up, your smile the picture of innocence. “I already finished studying. Plus, fresh air helps with brain function, doesn’t it?”

Riddle blinked, thrown off by your response. Technically, you weren’t breaking any rules. But something about your calm demeanor did break his sense of order.

The second time you caught his attention was during a dorm meeting when you lightly teased him about his obsession with rules. “Riddle, you ever consider relaxing? Maybe just once?”

He stared at you, utterly scandalized. “Relax? During an official dorm meeting?”

You just grinned. “Just saying. You’re going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”

Later that day, you upped the ante when you “accidentally” bumped into him and knocked a basket of strawberries onto the ground. Of course, you smiled sweetly, apologizing as you bent to pick them up, but then you slipped in a strawberry tart, decorated with red and white roses.

Riddle stared at it, completely baffled. “Did you—Did you paint roses on a tart?”

“Only the best for the Queen,” you replied with a wink, referencing the infamous Alice in Wonderland scene.

Riddle turned beet red, not from anger but because—against his will—he found it funny. He hated it. You were making him laugh, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Then, came the day you pushed him too far. You were teasing him, playfully challenging one of his many rules, and before you knew it—bam. Collar. You were collared.

But instead of being embarrassed or angry, you sauntered off and returned ten minutes later, holding up a plate of beautifully decorated rose-themed sweets. “Am I forgiven yet?”

Riddle stared at the plate, his face a mix of emotions. “You… can’t just—fine. But only because you followed the correct procedure for apology.”

What really sealed the deal was when you noticed how exhausted Riddle was after a long day. You didn’t say anything, but the next time he sat down, there was a cup of tea waiting for him—perfectly brewed. You didn’t even mention it, just went about your day as if it was no big deal. But for Riddle, it was a very big deal. You weren’t just smart and responsible—you were kind, mischievous, and somehow always knew exactly what he needed. And that terrified and intrigued him all at once.

Ace Trappola

Ace was always drawn to people who could keep up with his chaotic energy, and from the outside, you seemed like the last person who would. You were responsible, always got top marks, and never seemed to get in trouble like he did. You were a Pomefiore student through and through, the perfect picture of elegance and order. Or at least, that’s what Ace thought—until you proved him wrong in the most unexpected ways.

One afternoon, Ace was busy concocting his latest scheme—rigging a classroom window so that it would slam shut the moment someone opened it. Classic prank, a little outdated, but effective. Deuce stood beside him, nervously watching while Ace fiddled with the mechanism.

Just when Ace was about to finish, you appeared out of nowhere, your usual calm expression fixed on your face. “A window prank, Ace? Really?” you teased, looking unimpressed. “You’ve got to come up with something more original.”

Ace, expecting you to lecture him, leaned back with a smug grin. “What’s wrong? You too perfect to appreciate a good prank?”

But instead of walking away or scolding him, you walked over, inspected the rigging, and—with a sly grin—yanked one of the cords so that it was perfectly calibrated to snap the window shut just as someone walked by. “There. Now it’ll make a better sound when it slams shut.”

Ace blinked. “Wait—you’re actually helping me?”

You shrugged, your grin widening. “Might as well. You were doing it wrong anyway.”

And that was the moment Ace realized you weren’t just some stuck-up, model student. You were fun, and a lot sneakier than you let on.

It didn’t stop there. One day, the two of you were walking across campus when Ace noticed something strange. A lone broom was sitting outside of the library, left behind after flying class. You glanced at it, then at Ace, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. “I bet I can stand on it.”

Ace was taken aback. “You mean ride it?”

“No,” you smirked. “I mean stand on it.”

Before Ace could stop you, you were hopping onto the broom in your immaculate Pomefiore uniform, balancing on it like a circus performer. The broom wobbled as you grinned at Ace, one foot on the handle, your arms outstretched. “See? Easy.”

Ace gaped at you, half expecting you to fall off. “You know you’re going to break your neck, right? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one!”

“I’m responsible,” you said, hopping off the broom with a graceful landing. “I just know how to have fun.”

Ace didn’t know what to make of you. You weren’t just cool—you were insane in the best possible way. Who else would try to balance on a broom like it was a tightrope, in broad daylight, in front of the library? And still look like they had everything under control?

From then on, Ace couldn’t help but admire how you could be both the perfect student and completely unpredictable. One moment you’d be helping him with his homework, making sure he didn’t fail his classes, and the next, you’d be standing on a broom or rigging a prank right alongside him. You made the impossible look easy, and Ace was falling hard.

There was one day that really sealed the deal for him. After a long lecture, Ace was goofing off with Deuce, trying to sneak a piece of fruit out of the cafeteria without getting caught. You, being the mature one, walked up and raised an eyebrow. “Stealing now, are we?”

Ace snorted. “Come on, it’s just a piece of fruit. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Without missing a beat, you took the apple out of his hand, then tossed it over your shoulder—straight into the trash. “The worst thing is you could get caught.”

Ace stared at you in disbelief, then burst out laughing. You were sharp, clever, and always a step ahead of him. And it wasn’t long before he realized that maybe, just maybe, you were the one pranking him the entire time—by being so ridiculously cool without even trying.

Epel Felmier

Epel admired you from the moment you stepped into Pomefiore. You were the perfect model student—always well-behaved, top of your class, and you embodied the elegance Vil demanded. But what made Epel really start paying attention was that you weren’t just some delicate, rule-following Pomefiore statue. You were responsible, sure, but there was a wild side to you that came out in the most unexpected ways.

Take that time during broom riding practice, for example. Epel had seen you fly gracefully like it was second nature, while he was busy trying to not look like a complete disaster on his broom. Then, out of nowhere, you decided to take things to a whole new level. The instructor wasn’t paying attention, so you zoomed ahead of everyone, grinning like a maniac.

Epel watched in awe as you performed a perfect loop-de-loop before swooping down so fast you nearly gave Vil a heart attack. And, of course, you landed as if nothing happened, straightening your uniform and looking as poised as ever.

“Y-You can do tricks like that?” Epel asked, mouth agape.

You shrugged, brushing off the dust from your shoes. “It’s just flying. Gotta make it fun somehow.”

Epel couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

That day, Epel realized you were someone who could balance responsibility with freedom. He had always struggled with the restrictions of Pomefiore’s rigid beauty standards, but you managed to be both elegant and daring. It was like watching someone walk a tightrope with ease, and he was more than a little impressed.

But the thing that really cemented his admiration for you happened after one particularly intense Pomefiore training session. Vil had them all practicing their etiquette, posture, and poise, and Epel was on the verge of snapping. He wasn’t built for all this fancy stuff—he just wanted to be himself, rough edges and all.

After the session ended, you found Epel sulking by the fountain, muttering curses under his breath about how “ridiculous” all this refinement was.

“Need a break from all the beauty drills?” you asked, sitting down beside him.

Epel sighed, frustrated. “I just don’t get it. Why do we have to be so… proper all the time? Ain’t no one back home cared about sittin’ all pretty.”

You nodded, understanding. “I get it. Sometimes all this elegance stuff can be stifling.”

Epel looked at you in surprise. “You? I thought you were like… the perfect student. You never seem bothered by it.”

You chuckled softly. “That’s ‘cause I’ve learned how to balance it out. You gotta know when to let loose. Speaking of which…”

Without another word, you stood up, pulled your shoes off, and started wading into the fountain like it was the most natural thing in the world. Epel stared at you in disbelief.

“What in tarnation are you doin’?” he asked, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Cooling off,” you replied with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, you’ll feel better.”

Epel hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and kicked off his shoes, joining you in the fountain. You both splashed around, laughing like kids, completely disregarding the stares from the other Pomefiore students passing by. It was the most fun he’d had in weeks, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“You’re crazy, y’know that?” Epel laughed, wiping water from his face.

“Maybe,” you replied with a wink. “But sometimes, a little crazy is exactly what we need.”

From that day on, Epel saw you as more than just a perfect role model. You were someone who understood the pressure of perfection but also knew how to break free from it when necessary. And the fact that you didn’t mind getting a little reckless now and then? Well, that just made him like you even more.

Later, as the two of you dried off by the fountain, Epel found himself smiling—really smiling—for the first time in a while. You weren’t just cool; you were fearless, and that was something he admired more than anything.

Masterlist

[sadiestarrs]

practise makes perfect

just a short fluff drabble (blurb?) about hanging out with ellie and she finds out you've never kissed anyone. this is NOT my best work but I wanted to write it (it's also proofread) so enjoy <333

wc: 1.1k

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

early evening rays from the end of the day pushed the afternoon out, leaving only cool breeze to blow through your window. ellie sat on your bed, too focused on the video game she was playing to notice your obvious annoyance and frustration at the words in your textbook jumbling up on the page.

another message lights up your phone: your ex just added a photo to their story. you angrily slam it down on the table, even more agitated by the image of her at a candlelit dinner with someone else.

"woah there, i'm sure your phone did nothing wrong."

ellie looks up for a few seconds at a time, drawn to the game but concerned with what you're going through. ultimately, she pauses and grabs your phone from the desk, opening it with ease as she remembers your password.

"oh shit."

you hear empathy in her voice as she continues scrolling through your ex's Instagram, laughing at every little post that she deems cringy. "I can't believe you actually dated her. i mean-what did you even like?"

"she was nice to me, okay? im just an idiot for not seeing that it was one-sided." you think back to all the times she cancelled on you or just forgot when you were meant to hang out. luckily, ellie was a saving grace and always ready to accompany you to the library or cafe.

"there must have been something good. was she a good kisser?"

you struggle with how to answer that. despite being together for five months, you never kissed her, not even once. hell, you couldn't even remember how or when you got "together".

"we never kissed," you answer, slightly embarrassed but okay with ellie knowing. "never??" she replies, more shocked than you had expected.

"it was a short relationship, i don't even think I liked her." you try to change the conversation but ellie remains stuck on what you had revealed.

"have you kissed anyone? like-ever?"

your cheeks flush, not wanting to answer the question or even be in the room at that moment. the silence that washes over the both of you answers ellie's question.

you were no stranger to the adventures she had been on. when ellie wasn't with you, she was with some other girl, solidifying your position as the friend with no love life. you didn't mind it though, at least she provided insight into what relationships were like. but late at night, you couldn't help but let your mind wonder what it would feel like to be with ellie, to be next to her in bed—romantically, to feel her hands on your body in ways other than a hug-

"you wanna try?"

that is when you look up at her, more confused and slightly scared. would she find a friend just for you to kiss them?

"what do you mean? do you have people on speed dial for kissing?" you try to mask your pounding heart and unravelling composure with humour, but it fails miserably.

"i wish," she jokes, "but no, seriously. do you wanna kiss me? for practice?"

right. practise.

ellie williams was asking if you wanted to kiss her for—practice? you try to recap and sort things out in your mind, but nothing makes any sense.

gingerly, you shrug, not sure how she would see you if you eagerly accepted. stay calm and composed. even chanting that thousands of times doesn't help, somehow making you more nervous.

"sure, i guess."

you're unsure of what to do from there, more silence entering the room. you settle for sitting next to her on your bed, surprised at how unfamiliar it felt at that moment. ellie laughs at your awkwardness, stopping once she senses that you're unsure.

"you don't have to, you know, it was just a suggestion."

"no— no, it's fine. i want to."

without another word, ellie raises her hand for the side of your face, gently cupping your cheek to move it closer. you barely notice when your lips connect, a soft touching of lips in the most gentle way you have ever felt. there's no real indication as to why she's being so gentle, but it feels nice in the moment, reminding you of when she'd hold your hand whilst walking you home at night.

"is this okay?" she asks, eyes slightly fluttering open to see you smiling. "more than okay," you mumble, focused on returning to kissing.

ellie chuckles at your eagerness, but obliges, moving closer so that all the surface area of your lips are touching. you can't help but wonder what it would feel like if she just added more pressure, enough to fully make your heart throb

her hand slowly trails down to your waist, a firm grip holding you tighter than she ever had before. "do you wanna, um, get on top?"

"w-what?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that if you were to kiss someone, it would be better to demonstrate from that position."

you listen to her ramble and try to justify herself and let out a laugh for the first time. the idea of straddling ellie sends shock waves through your system, but you still do it, scared to fully put your weight down.

ellie quickly shuts down that fear, holding both sides of you waist and letting her hands slide up your shirt, fiddling with the clasps of your bra. "is this okay?" she asks again. "yes, ellie, it's perfect. now stop hesitating and help me practise."

a new found confidence takes over your body, your arms gaining a mind of their own and wrapping around her neck. with confirmation that you were into it, ellie quickly returns to what she had been doing with the addition of your neck and collarbone.

she had been your bestfriend for years, constantly helping and carrying you through the hardest of times and failed crushes. and here she was, teaching you how to kiss someone else.

with how long she continues working at your neck, you had enough information to last a life time. you don't tell her to stop, however, enjoying the prickly feeling. "did you know that you smell really good, like vanilla or—"

she's too enthralled to focus on her words, finally unhooking your bra and tossing it to the floor.

"i think we might need more practice sessions, you know, something makes something perfect or whatever."

idk how to feel abt this one but its cute nonetheless!! reblogs always appreciated + thank you for reading<33

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

HI i’m the anon who sent the enchanted strap+cockwarmkng and overstimulating cunnilingus asks !! and also the one who sent the pussy slapping

right before bed i was having thoughts. about mean mommy wanda. teasing reader all day while they’re out on a date in public or smth, idk. walking around with an app-controlled vibrator that’s inside reader and wanda relentlessly teases her baby with it while being so condescendingly doting. and in turn reader gets too sensitive and starts to stumble with a tremble in her step

“aww, is my baby too dumb to do anything by herself ? it’s okay, mommy will take care of you princess.” <333

omg hi anon you gave such good ideas!! do you want a lil emoji so i know it's you?

---

Omg yes you've been so good for her and Wanda wants to test the limits of your obedience so she gets you all dressed up and pampers you before a lunch date and an afternoon of shopping. Right before you're about to leave, she has you bend over the couch for her, and you obey without question, just like the good girl you are.

You would ask why she slipped a small vibrator inside you, but the pleased look in her eye when you don't so much as squirm as she turns it on stops you. You really want this date to be perfect, so you don't question it. After all, mommy knows what's best for you, and she does all the thinking.

You make it through lunch with no issue, although Wanda catches you squirming every so often in your seat. You can't help it, she's constantly turning the vibrations higher, and with the edging session you'd had last night only makes you more desperate.

Still, you're a good girl, so you don't complain or beg. Wanda couldn't be prouder, especially when she sees the flush creeping onto your cheeks, and the way your eyes glaze over slightly once you stand up.

It's not until a while later when she turns the vibrations almost as high as they can go that you break your composure.

"Mommy, please." Your whined words are whispered in her ear, and Wanda purposely ignores you as she selects another dress from the rack. She turns toward you, holding the dress up against your body as you plead at her with those big eyes.

"We're not done shopping yet, sweetheart. If you want something, you have to use your words." She says, an air of finality in her voice, and you try to think about ways to ask her for her fingers, mouth, or strap as she guides you towards the dressing rooms.

Then, it happens. She turns the vibrations up even higher, and you stumble slightly as your muscles tremble from the pleasure coursing through you. You turn to look at her, but can only look at her with slightly parted lips as she pushes you into a dressing room.

"What, are you too dumb from mommy's toy to form a sentence?" She asks, and you just nod, hanging your head. She hangs the dress on a hook, before one hand on your hip presses you against the wall while the other grips your jaw and forces you to look at her.

"You've been such a good girl for me, honey. If you can make it home without coming, I'll fuck you nice and hard with my strap, sound good? Hold it, and I'll let you cum as many times as you want later."

---

GOD PLEASE WHEN IS IT MY TURN PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

[httpiastri]

I HAVE THOUGHTS !!!!!

imagine being paul's girlfriend and since it's winter break you two get to spend more time together. Snuggling with each other, lazy mornings together, no rush, no chaos, just enjoying the little things.

And one day you see Paul playing some video games and you're just looking at the screen, curious about how the game works so you walk towards him and ask him if you could play with him, something Paul is very enthusiastic about and quickly grabs your waist so you could sit on his lap, your hands on the controller and his right on top of yours so he can help you a little ((((imagine the size difference, omg)))), everything is giggles and fun, you can't help but smile when sometimes he slips out a few words in estonian and even if you don't quite understand it yet, you love hearing him so happy.

(that insta story he uploaded not long ago made me think of this, his hair looked so fluffy omg😭 and the beautiful, bright smile as well<333)

you have thoughts!! and i’m very thankful to have been let in on these amazing thoughts!!!!! 🤭 winter break with paul 🫶🫶🫶

spending some good quality time together as the season has been so busy… lazy mornings spent in bed just chatting, twirling his curls between your fingers as he laughs about a story you told, his big warm hands pulling you closer… cozy afternoons spent walking around the city in the snow, or sitting in cute little cafés, fingers intertwined and kisses being pressed to rosy, frozen cheeks… and long nights filled with cuddles, movie-watching, and hushed whispers about the future…

but of course, he also likes to spend some time playing games now that he's finally off. usually, you take the time to do something for yourself when he's playing, but sometimes you get curious and want to watch him play. he's got this new game that you've never seen before, and it looks very complex but also very intriguing, so you walk up to him.

when you ask him all these questions about how to play, what the goal is, what that character does and how to use that special command, he secretly finds it so cute. he's basically melting on the inside. he's just about to ask if you want to try it out, when you shyly ask him "can i play?", and he melts some more. he's so enthusiastic about it, head nodding quickly and hands find your waist instantly. he guides you onto his lap, placing the controller in your hands before letting his hands land on your thighs, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watches the screen.

then, when he sees you struggling, he chuckles and places his huge hands on top of yours. he moves your fingers to help you out, guiding you and letting you know what to do, and sharing giggles with you when everything still goes wrong. eventually, you start to get the hang of – but you pretend that you don't, because you want him to keep his hands on yours…

and then, after that day, gaming together becomes a common occurrence. you sit down together, preferably (for you both) in his laps, trying out new games and playing his old favorites. fighting games, teamwork games, farming simulators – anything just to spend time together and stay close. it's also an easy way for you to learn certain estonian terms, especially funny little swearwords that slip out in the middle of his laughter when you both fail a level of a game.

and he notices quite easily when you start getting tired. he placed sweet kisses to the back of your neck, whispering something about how you can go take a nap together, but you shake your head at him. then you hand him the controller, turning around in his lap and telling him to keep playing – before leaning forward, nuzzling your face into his neck and slowly dozing off.

and he has such a hard time focusing on the game when your chest is pressed up against his, with your sweet scent filling his senses and your touch clouding his thoughts. but he loves it, and wishes time could stop and he could just have you in his lap forever. the game isn't as important.

[pyrodolls]

Yandere Liu Kang? 👀👀👀

yandere liu kang x reader hcs

warnings: toxic relationship, controlling liu kang, yk regular yandere tendencies

summary: hcs of yandere liu kang x (gender neutral) reader

a/n: i just ate like 7 tacos anyways here’s a story about a god that is obsessed with you bc we all secretly want that!! (hi its me from the future this took so long for me to write anyways i just ate 12 chicken nuggets and i was holding in a shit while i was writing this anyways please enjoy guys love you all. havik is next :333)

when liu kang created the new timeline, he was bent on making sure everyone had the chance to live a life of peace. he wanted everyone to be in control of their lives.

but when it came to you, liu kang had a twisted desire to completely craft your life so you two can be together. however, he resisted the urge, and he decided to let you be in control of your own life.

but he didn't expect for you to naturally gravitate towards him. he felt so... familiar to you. as if you knew each other in another life.

liu kang was so grateful that you naturally found each other again. and now, he was determined to make sure nothing would happen to you.

now that you two are together, he treats you as if you're glass. he barely lets you leave your house without him helping you. but can you blame him? he's a demi-god and you are just a vulnerable mortal. he just doesn't want you getting hurt!

"liu kang, please, let me leave. i just want to walk around. i'm not going to get hurt!" you begged.

"i cannot risk you losing your life, my darling. you'll understand one day." liu kang told you.

liu kang may be extremely controlling, but it's because he holds you very dear to his heart. he doesn't want anything bad happening to you, so he safeguards you very carefully. he is afraid of losing you more than anything.

you are his darling. you are the love of his life. can you really blame him for wanting to keep you forever? hold you in his arms til' death do you part?

he doesn't mind when you talk to others, however. he doesn't trust you to protect yourself, but he trusts you to stay loyal to him. he isn't that possessive. but he does always have to know every single person you are acquainted with. he just wants to make sure they're good people, that's all! he just doesn't want you to accidentally be friends with bad people.

however, liu kang is extremely busy as earthrealm's protecter. he doesn't get to keep an eye on you all the time, unfortunately. so he keeps you locked up in your shared living space! fun, right?

but he knows how bored you can get in there, so he knows to get whatever furniture you want inside your home. anything you show even a little bit of interest in, ends up in your home a few minutes later. you're very spoiled in other aspects other than furniture, however.

for example, on the rare occasion that liu kang isn't too busy, he does whatever you ask him. make you tea? he's on it. cuddle and watch a movie? he's got the blankets and snacks ready. need a shoulder to cry on? he's there, and he'll give you advice on how to solve the problem.

liu kang is very thoughtful, and he knows exactly how to take care of you. but unfortunately, his fear of losing you someday is too strong, that he doesn't know how to love you without a voice in the back of his head always reminding him that your lifespan is much shorter than his. he knows you won't be with him someday. but he likes to pretend that fact isn't true.

for now, he'll stay hopeful that nothing will come between your unconditional love. your loss someday will leave him crestfallen, and you will stay within his heart forevermore. so for now, let him love you with his whole heart. let him kiss you every morning. let him enjoy your company every afternoon. let him embrace you every night. he'll go mad if anything were to happen to you, his sweet beloved.

[vortexbloom]

OMG U WRITE FOR MAVUIKA!??!?!? WHATTTTT??????

Bro I dont think I have seen a yandere fic of her which is down right torture since NATLAN LITTERLY CAME OUT MONTHS AGO???

Either way, would it be ok for me to place a request for her?

If yes, could I please ask for some yan! Mavuika hc with a darling who is on hunger strike?(bacically refuses to eat unless freed)

Also, how r u? How r u feeling? Let me tell you girl(sorry for the long ask/request/idk😭), you and anybody who is willing to write for yandere Mavuika, deserves nothing but painless periods with 0% cramps.

AHHHHH 😍😍😍 Thank you for the sweet words (same goes to you 🎀), I‘m doing good btw. I hope you’re doing good too <333.

And you’re so right, like why doesn’t anyone write any Mavuika stuff?!!! 😭

Like yesterday I searched for some Mavuika stories, but the search only showed me Masterlists for some reason 💀

So I decided to take matters into my own hands and feed myself and all the Pookies that also need Mavuika Stories/Headcanons etc. 😤✨

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕧𝕦𝕚𝕜𝕒 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕠𝕟 ℍ𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕜𝕖 (ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤)

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 - 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕀𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕥

𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕥 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

Pairing: Yandere Mavuika x Reader

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Warnings: Obsessiveness, Force Feeding, Threatening, (intended) Self - Harm, Manipulation

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings.

Also, I do Not own any Characters like Mavuika.

Anyway, have fun reading this :) (Especially the sweet anon that requested this 🫶🏻)

Obsession Fueled by Control

Mavuika sees your hunger strike as a challenge to her authority and love. It frustrates her deeply but also heightens her obsession. In her mind, your refusal to eat only cements her need to "save" you from yourself.

Manipulative Tactics

She plays the role of the caring lover, bringing you your favorite meals and pretending to be heartbroken over your stubbornness. She’ll whisper soft reassurances: "I only want what’s best for you, my darling. Why won’t you trust me?"

Breaking Your Resolve

Mavuika might employ psychological tactics to break your hunger strike. She would eat in front of you, savoring every bite while commenting on how delicious it is, knowing the scent and sight might tempt you.

Force Feeding

If desperation takes hold, she might resort to physically forcing you to eat. Holding you close, she might sweetly yet menacingly whisper: "I can’t let you hurt yourself, love. If you won’t eat willingly, I’ll make sure you do."

Threatening Self - Harm

When all else fails, Mavuika might turn to dramatic acts of self-harm to guilt you into compliance. "If you won’t take care of yourself, I’ll make sure we both waste away together!"

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[aannonn]

[ALAN BECKER LIVESTREAM SPOILERS]

.

.

.

don't mind me, i'm just collecting and timestamping too just in case anyone wants to find the clip every single interruption that happened in the livestream so far... :> (atleast, the ones i've noticed)

THE STICKING MERCENARIES NO STICKING WAY

1:44:45

the sillies

1:06:41

so... ABTV is canon in the beckerverse... interesting.....

26:44

lol (not a clip)

[velvetypoets]

Spoiled Rotten

James Potter always gets what he wants. That's just how it goes.

Warnings: James Potter x reader fanfic, James is down bad, I tagged marauders but no peter, Slytherin reader, Black family reader, reader is portrayed as she/her, reader centric, forbidden love trope, SFW, James perspective, Sirius loves his friends, James is a blurting mess but it leads to victory anyways

thank u sososomuch for the support on the first one!!! im very fond of this work and everyone's been super sweet to me. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE UPLOADED 1 MONTH AGO BEFORE I WENT ON A FIELD TRIP IM SO SORRY my dumbass uploaded it in private. the third might take a longer while since ill' be busier with uni so this one will be a tad longer. ty for the warm support and ily guys <333

[ part 1|part 2|part 3 ]

————————————————————————————————————————

The clock was striking 1:00 when it appears. Perched at the Marauders dorm windowsill stands the purest white owl with beads of orbs so clear James could almost see his own reflection. Its eyes focused on Sirius's drooling face and for every little twitch he makes, the bird's grip on the letter in his claw tightens.

He left a crack of the window open on purpose once Sirius and Remus had fallen still. Sirius had been bullying—Scratch that, James thought. Assaulting every owl that even comes close to the trio the whole day. Looking at it, the bird and Sirius seem well acquainted so what did that Tawny ever do to Pads? James wondered. That owl got a few of its feathers off this morning fighting his friend all for nothing.

 "Emerald," whispered James from his bed. The majestic being blinks slowly before diving in from the open window as she lands gracefully at his bedside table. The letter she was so carefully guarding sits neatly on his lap now. James was simply astonished, "A magnificent bird for a magnificent girl, huh? Thank you, Emerald." 

Emerald blinks to him as she receives James smile. She went straight back to her guard duty and she turned her head dutifully to watch Sirius. He reaches for his glasses and the letter opener next to Emeralds's feet, the bird doesn't flinch one bit. He takes a deep inhale from the velvet green coloured paper as he opens the letter. The parchment smells of the same one that he's been basking in all night. Yes, he slept with his stupid scarf with trails of your warm scent on his neck.

I heard there was an attack on an owl by a wild dog this afternoon. Can that brat of a cousin be any more duller?

James can't hold his smile any longer, he glanced at Emerald who seems interested in his expressions as she keeps looking his way while still keeping guard. "Oh, so you do have a personality," He whispered with a chuckle. 

I don't know how you and Lupin stand him this long. Well, you live and you learn. Now take good care of Emerald. She's fed and full so don't even dare try to buy her love with treats. I told her to keep her eyes on the dog for as long as you're reading this letter. 

Do send her back once you're done, simply say the words. Meet me at the farthest tower of the south near astronomy at dawn. You're a prankster, figure out how to sneak through Filch yourself.

Knock 4 times. Sincerely, 

A blot of ink ended the last word of the letter. James ran a finger softly to it as he let go of the breath he was holding for so long. He reads your letter over and over till he's sure he can recite every word. It was way too short. He reminds himself to ask his charm professor tomorrow of a protection charm to keep time from damaging. 

"Bloody hell, did you really have to risk us all getting the cold for a darn letter, Prongs??" Remus is awake, James expected it. He's a light sleeper and the ruffling paper sound James was making while inspecting the content of the letter to see for any hidden message was probably enough. That and the cold air of a one in the morning approaching winter breeze. 

Remus's drowsy eyes lands on the white snow owl perched on James's table. His brows furry, "Its a snow all along? What was his problem with that Tawny from earlier then??" James shrugs a shoulder still deep in thought, he has not a care in this world right now for anything other than the piece of paper in his hand. "She warned us it was a snow. He shooed all the other owls for precaution I guess,"

Remus lets out an annoyed sigh at James reply, "Those poor birds. We genuinely have enough feathers now to last the three of us a school year thanks to him." 

James hums at the comment. They did keep all the feathers since it'll be a huge waste. They were also avoiding Filch's fury for littering. Remus looks at the sight of his best friend fully immersed in a mere piece of paper, "You're really going through with this?"

The boy halted, looking up to find Remus's concerned face. He knows what he's doing. His best friends are protecting him from what only compares to a mountain of incoming trouble.

Sirius had made it truly sound that your family are absolutely no one to tamper with. With how dramatic he is, he made it explicitly sound like what James has done is an entire war crime. "I told you! Archivus and Nebula Black are not ones to tamper with! They will leash hell on you if you keep this up!"

"Well I can't stop now, Moony."

"You can't or you won't?"  

"Why do you always ask questions you've always known the answer to, my friend?" James lets a frustrated sighs as he rests his head back to his pillow. He cast it to float over his face. All of those words, all 120 of them– 121 since James is counting in the ink blot, they're all directed to him. You took the time to write and send it through your owl, for James. A letter from his new, his cherished, girlfriend.

A full day had abruptly passed by from that meeting with you in front of Charms. Every word and every tune you uttered rings about his head the entire day. Especially the last few bit, one on which you called him your boyfriend. He'd never thought for a million years that you would've called him that soon. James would've never had the guts to do it first. He was supposed to be the courageous one. He's Gryffindors poster boy for Merlin sake!

My idiot boyfriend. Idiot. Boyfriend. Her boyfriend. I'm an idiot boyfriend.

"I don't... know why I'm like this either. I just know I have so much love to give to her.

"Remus turns his head to the window to relieve himself of a smile. He bites his lips for an answer to not let it known, he promised himself he would stay neutral, "I won't stop you."

James closed his eyes. Remus knows the weight he sets free to his friend. He glances back at the owl now looking curiously at him, "Close the window after, yeah? Good night, Prongs."

"Good night, Moony."

——————————————————————————

The marauders had all made up and are back to being attached at the hip again the next day. Remus dragged Sirius the next afternoon to another puzzle night—of which Sirius has a lot to complained about all day— at the common room. Sirius isn't the type to sit around for too long and even for James, finishing a 10k puzzle seems a lot.

The type of person Sirius Black is though, is one that transforms the entire Gryffindor common room decorations and moves the furniture to lay out blankets and swarms of pillows. He even went as far as sneaking to the kitchen and begs the Hogwarts house elves for cookies and hot chocolate. Now there's a huge misunderstanding about the elves point of view in Pads since he is in fact, a Black. But Sirius isn't himself if he didn't have tricks up his sleeves and James has a hunch on that.

"I must say... You've really outdone yourself now, mate," James said, sincerely amused. Sirius put his last touch of fluffing the pillows before he approached James to join him in examining the room, "Oh what would our little Moony do without me, huh Prongsie? Now that I've learned my lesson on that painstaking first game night I'm making this activity worthwhile. He was only going to set up a plain grey blanket and tea! The general ones in bags too! Glad I rid of that one quick."

Sirius makes a condescending tsk, tsk, tsk from his mouth before his brow furrowed, "Say... Where are you off to, Mate? You know you're always welcome to join us. I mean, lily and the other girls said they're joining too."

He wouldn't be able to lie and look at Sirius's face. James averts his attention to kneel and inspect the steaming tray of cookies and fudge laying on top of the puffy carpet. Sirius had somehow got the grant from McGonagall to lay out the Christmas carpet early for the game. Moony's going to have such a headache keeping the carpet out of cookie crumbs.

"Believe me my cookies loving heart breaking here but I've got to talk to Slughorn, Mate. Thinks he's got an idea on improving one of dad's medicines."

Sirius eyes lit up in the last sentence, James wants to punch himself in the face, "That's terrific! That's such good news for Fleamont, Prongs! Why we should be the one joining you!!" Sirius didn't even question him one bit, he pulled him stead to a hug full on the thrill. James hugs him back as he tries to keep his voice from wavering, "Nah, don't ruin your good time with Moony. Go and get absolutely wrecked, man."

Sirius chuckled as he ruffled a hand to James curls, "Oh we'll be so out by the time you got here, don't you worry. I'm going to fill my belly with hard-earned fudge!"

James manages to release himself from Sirius's rough hug and tries to fix his hair up a bit, "I should be going now, but hey! Don't forget to leave me some of that fudge!" He said as he did a bit of run to the door while Sirius tends to Lily and Mary who came just in time to light the candles. Sirius looks back to James one last time, the fangs on him peaking through his grin, "Oh don't you worry, mate. We'll make sure to lick the plate right off tonight!"

James closed the door with a crackle of laughter. He replies to Sirius's grin with an even sassier one, slipping his hand onto his coat pocket that fits exactly four pieces of fudge. He's not James Potter if he doesn't double down.

He puts on the invisibility cloak and makes his way through Hogwarts with ease. Being a Marauder he had his fair share sneaking out a million times and yet, his heart beats so loud it feels like bursting out of him. He's at the southernmost tower bottom of stairs when he heard footsteps.

It was you. You're out of uniform, a Slytherin sweater that's way too big for you and a black coat with emerald buttons that James swears he's seen the same in Sirius's back closet and on Regulus every now and again. You're visibly cold, your cheeks pale as you hold yourself close to keep the warmth in your coat from escaping. Your brows furrowed, James can't think of a more sweeter creature.

Your head whipped right to where he's standing, your face a couple inches away from him. James got absolutely the fear of his life, he almost yelps and gave his presence away. You were looking at the window right behind him, "Dawn is settling... Oh if that man is late for even a minute I'm dumping his ass so hard," You complain to yourself. He held his chuckle and his lips are already giving into a dumb smile as he follows you from a distance. He's thinking of giving you a headstart to make yourself feel better for arriving sooner.

He notices the mystery boxes and blanket you're hiding in the inside of your coat jacket. James eyes widens, it's a thermos that smells familiarly of general store brewed tea, blankets, and a box of magic puzzles.

James freezes in his tracks right then and there, holding his heart to his chest as if its trying to escape. He waits until the door to the tower room at the top creaks open and shuts– to uncover the cloak and lets a laugh for himself. His body trembled the whole time. Tint of flushing red quickly took over his cheeks. James rests his back to the stone wall behind him and let his body slump. He covers his face with his hands before catching his breath and turning to check his faint reflection in the window.

"James Potter you're so incredibly fucked."

——————————————————————————

"There you are!! Do you know how long I've been waiting for you!"

Exactly 9 minutes and 24 seconds James believed. It took him that long to finally rid the tint of his face and regain just enough composure before he's ready to opens the door that leads to you. He counted so he wouldn't make you wait too long. James had decided to set on 10 minutes, max. He closed the door behind him and leaned his back against the door, his famously charming grin forms, "Apologies my darling, I wanted to give you the time to feel like Rapunzel."

Your brows raised, you're sitting in the middle of the room on a carpet with a blanket in your lap. The huge rustic style window behind you makes James view look like a framed painting. "Who's Rapunzel?"

James grin had never fallen that quick, he quickly caught himself, "What? Don't tell me you don't know Rapunzel, Love. Huge Muggle folklore? Long-haired blonde princess that's locked on a tower! She has both a barbie and a disney movie!" His eyes widened in disbelief as he claimed a seat next to you, his eyes met the burnt mark to the hem of your sweater. To rid of feuds from the lack of sharing culture between the Blacks, all family members are required to mark everything they own with a custom spell that burns their names perfectly on the items. (Y/N) Soleia Black He gives a relaxed sigh, he really thought for a second there you were wearing Regulus's sweater or even worse, Notts.

You were nice enough to let him ramble before knocking a soft one on his head, "Really Potter? Muggles? Should I remind you of which lineage I am from?" You shook your head at his clumsiness but you'd be lying if you didn't find that cute. You know what a movie and the gist of it is, Sirius took you to a muggle theatre a while back, "This Rapunzel girl seems like quite the actress to play in a movie with whoever this disney and barbie is though. She's a princess you say, did she ever find her prince?"

You don't seem to be quite aware of the absolute power James is using to not laugh at your innocence, that would be quite rude, "No, well– Yes, she did found her a man but not quite a prince. She fell in love with the thief who tried to rob her and got happily wedded at the end of the story."

You're wide-eyed and let your lips agape at his explanation, James hearts melts at sight of it, "I'm sorry, did you really just say she married the man who tried to bloody robbed her? Happily at that?"

"Oh Merlin, we should really watch tangled together sometimes. I have a telly and the cd at my house, uhh... It's the muggle technology that plays videos on a little screen we learned on Muggles Studies— Well I could just show it to you later, Pads mind was absolutely blown when I showed him," James chuckle as he's reminded of the time he brought his friends over to his house. Sirius keeps trying to look behind the tv to catch some form of little persons coming out.

You giggled at his story, "Is that an invitation for another date, Mister Potter? This one hasn't even started yet," You brought out the box of magic puzzles and the thermos of tea and said innocently, "Why unfortunately for us the wizarding worlds entertainment bizz is limited. Though I did pick up this game that had been trending quite recently. Are you familiar with it by any chance?"

James sighs at the sight of the 10k puzzle game, the same bright colored box with cheesy lines written on it that was sitting as the centerpiece of Sirius's golden plan. Reality is not so subtly mocking him at this point, "Did anybody give this to you or did you lied to the sorting hat and is you just a Ravenclaw in secret?"

You give him a playful punch on the arm, "Hey! Us Slytherins could be smart too! And is capable of doing a little solving here and there, I mean I love to read mystery novels myself. I got the puzzle at the shop but the lame blankets and tea were from this suspicious looking guy in robe that visited me earlier. Made me promised to burn it and never let a wizard know where to find it again. I don't quite get his disgust on the tea, generics are just fine," You pour James a cup of tea from the thermos cup and you look up to find him staring at you like you just said something weird. You raise a brow, "What? You a fancy tea leaves only guy too?"

He snaps back quickly and curses himself in his mind, "No, No! I.. I just never heard you talk that much before," The truth came out of him involuntarily, he's never done this before. Speaking his mind. That only ever leads to bad outcomes, he thinks. Outcomes he can't control. Every second you take to process his words makes him even more anxious, "Look... Fuck, I don't mean anything about it, I love hearing you rant. I'd give everything for it. It's just I've never really heard you talk... This much—"

You watch him stumble on his own words, processing what on earth have you done to this man. For some reason you felt like you've just broken James Potter. Like you went on a ride and it started malfunctioning, is he malfunctioning? Oh God Sirius wouldn't have your head for breaking his best mate right?

"James, it's just me. Breathe, I'm not going anywhere," You said, deciding to save him from more embarrassment that is surely coming if he doesn't stop. It's not just you though, you are not just someone! ,Was all he wanted to scream. You raise your hands to cups his cheeks as it warms your skin almost effectively. James ego can't suffer more than it already is. He is a crumbling, stuttering, mess, all from your presence.

James Fleamont Potter, on his last bit of sanity that hadn't left him yet decides to be truthful for once, "I think your ranting has done burnt my brain."

You stifle a laugh, "Wah-What?! That's your explanation for me? You big foolish mess of an idiot, you! Ohh I'm so going to hex you now! What was all that about, Potter??"

James feels there should exist a spell to make the ground open up and swallow him whole, "Next time you try something new to me, I think you might have to do a bit of precaution first, Lovie," He sighs, he lets a hand courses through the curls of the hair upon his forehead, "My heart nearly jumped out of its place. I'm being truthful to you, you should open your eyes to the crazy things you do to me, (Y/N)."

Hearing your name come out of him feels surreal, not a sweet nickname or your family name, just yours. You don't know how to feel about all of this. You don't know what to think of him. Fuck it. You shoot.

"You don't actually like me do you, James?"

Silence. Then another brain fart erupts.

"What if I said yes?"

That came out too soon for his liking. James lets out a groan as he stops himself from covering his face to hide away, "What about it, (Y/N)? What if I did all this to set myself up with you. What if my thing for our complicated arrangement was you all along?"

You seem to have fallen still again. He brings your hand gently to his face and lightly plants a kiss on the back, "I've completely fallen for you. (Y/N) you have no idea the mess you made out of me. You've not a clue of the lengths I do for you and.. And I feel like I'm always doing the wrong things when I'm with you."

The kiss feels hot on your skin. He continues with his hazel eyes piercing sincerely right through you and it feels like he's seeing you bare for what you are. The girl who was born from the wrong family. A Black with more feelings than the other. The weak one, as your father likes to remind you.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. Truthfully, I'm not used to love," You blurts, biting your lips in agony.

"I, If there's anything I can do to help you..." He sensed the weight anchoring in his stomach long before it falls. His tensed shoulders feel like it's crumbling down on him. You smile faintly and leaned closer.

Don't blame James for feeling so down cause not even Merlin himself would've predicted you to plant a kiss on his cheek, a near miss from his lips.

"I do feel intrigued enough that you somehow managed to trick me into all this. Bravo, Potter. I think I'd give you a chance."

He's stiff as the day he'll be when he's gone. The paleness leaving his tone as warmth fluttery butterflies color him in the reddest hue. You chuckled,

"Well, Potter. You've got your princess. Now what?"

[signanothername]

Hello!!! Good night (morning/evening/afternoon whatever)

How are you? Are you feeling okay those days? Taking care of yourself?

Sorry for the random personal ask (u don't need to respond if you don't wish to) but sometimes people, when like an artist very much, focus on asking things content related and forgot to focus at least some times on the artist itself. Not that is bad people asking because that's the objective of the blog but...

Idk if this is normal??? I guess it is. I'm not "famous" to understand it. Well, i really like your art! (I have said it a lot i guess???) and i would (as a person that really likes your content, way of writing and stuff) also like to see you well too.

Human basic empathy i guess??? Tho you seem like a person that stand by your foot and don't really let people put you down. On the internet this is great.

I see that you changed you fixed blog again and i supposed that is due the quantity of the same asks.

Anyways...

I really like your art and stuff, i see that both of ys have similar taste in some things and you actually got me a new point of view in some things. So, basically, i think you're really cool and stuff.

Hope I'm not being pushy or anything, if i did I'm sorry.

Have a great day/night. <3

Hello! Good morning <333

Aww thank you sm!

Ngl, been a lil stressed these days, life shenanigans never stop hshshshsh

Got a health license exam in less than two weeks, a driving test after, and a bunch of other stuff in between, so it’s been a bit daunting and frustrating (that’s why I’m waiting for 2025 with so much patience, by the new year I would be done with all these things)

But honestly that’s life, it ain’t gonna be all roses and rainbows all the time, will pull through tho so no worries

Otherwise I’m doing ok, nothing of note, been drawing on the side while I deal with all this, so that’s been fun :D

And you’re not being pushy dw <333

Good day/night!

[mssalo]

hiiii. i am FERAL over worship joel and reader why are they so fucking cute. When he told her “i love you” 🥺. also i love how she chewed TF out of her ex. AND punched him after joel did lol talk about a double whammy (a very well deserved one too). sarah and reader were also so cute, i liked seeing how comfortable they were with each other at the end of the chapter

is there any possibility we’ll bring seeing more of them 👀 i was just gonna say, reading access (also so good!!) made me think of worship joel x reader, i feel like they would also very much be into free use and the breeding kink would go even crazier now that they’re together. Not sure how it’d work since sarah is also in the house lol, but something tells me not only would joel have a breeding kink but also a lactation kink 👀

Thank you so much for reading!! I’m sooo happy you enjoyed it, and I agree—they’re incredibly cute together! 🥹 I love the idea of exploring their dynamic more, especially with those kinks.

I want to write about them more - they’re kind of my comfort characters right now. I love their story and the fact that they both can punch a bitch (bad husbands)

Breeding Kink Scenario… classical worship moment…

Imagine a night when they’re wrapped up in each other after a long day, the air thick with desire. Joel pulls you close, his hands roaming over your belly, a possessive smile on his face. “You know I want to fill you up again, right? Make you mine,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. He kisses down your neck, his lips trailing lower as he gets to your chest. “You’ve got to let me,” he murmurs, before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently but insistently, his eyes locked onto yours as if to say, This is what I want. “I need you to be full of me,” he growls, the heat of his words sending shivers down your spine.

Lactation Kink Scenario… don’t even get me started…

Picture this: Joel’s hands are gripping your hips as you both find a quiet moment together. He looks down at your breasts, a devilish grin on his face. “You know how much I love it when you’re like this,” he says, leaning down to kiss your chest. “Let me taste you.” As he latches on, sucking and teasing, he whispers against your skin, “You’re perfect like this—just a little more for me, alright? You’re my good girl, and I can’t get enough.”

Free Use Scenario….YES YES YES!!!!!

Now, imagine they’ve settled into a rhythm, and the idea of free use becomes part of their dynamic. It’s a lazy afternoon, and you’re trying to read on the couch when Joel strides in, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re not busy, are you?” he asks, an amused smirk playing on his lips. Without waiting for a response, he pulls you onto his lap, hands roaming. “I’ll take that as a no. You know you’re always mine to use, whenever I want, right?”

They’d definitely explore those kinks together—it would deepen their connection and intimacy even further! Can’t wait to write more about them!!

Thank you for reading!! <333

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

HIIIIII

Omd I love your work so much the analysation between Kaveh and Alhaitham is just so ??? (Beautiful wth I probably read like 99.9% of your work bc I just love reading the analysis between them) literally EVERYTIME you post I get so excited like it just makes me smile

Anyway if it’s not rude to ask, Ive read some of your fanfics about them and I just wanted to ask how you make them so.. accurate? Ive just recently started writing fanfics and do you have any tips?

Also knowing how much you analyse these two are there any like details about them you found out abt the pair? I would normally do it myself but im not even up to the Sumeru archon quest 😭

And another thing, do you have any head canons revolving the two or do you just stick by the canon? (If you do head canons i would LOVE TO HEAR THEM.)

Hope this isnt too much to ask!! (Also ignore my horrible punctuation it’s normally better than this i swear)

Anyway like i said your work is amazing and byebyeeee have a good night/day/afternoon

-🍀

hiya!! AHHHH i'm so glad you enjoy my brainrot analysis of these two <333 i'm way too invested so i'm happy that people are invested in them just as much!! HELPPP now i'm kicking my legs and giggling that's so sweet :'''')

firstly !?!?! thank you for checking out my fics!! and !!!!!! i'm glad you like the characterisation! :'''') when i first got into haikaveh, all i was doing was reading fics before i got to sumeru. i had ideas for writing, but i was way too scared of actually getting them up in full in case they were inaccurate, because i felt that i didn't have a great grasp on their in-game characters? (not that this fear should stop anyone - where would haikaveh nation be without the authors who wrote for haikaveh before kaveh was even released??)

personally i spent a lot of time going over their individual character stories and voice-lines, as well as constantly rewatching character trailer videos and clips where haikaveh are together onscreen, and also apart, so i could start the essay, and this definitely also helped me develop a voice for both of them in fic in terms of dialogue and inner monologues.

for me kaveh's inner monologue is going to be almost the complete opposite of alhaitham's, where kaveh's empathy comes out in overthinking, and is fuelled mainly by emotion as he tries to rationalise his perspective (in relation to interpreting alhaitham), whereas i write alhaitham's inner monologue to be more observation based, and where emotion is implied rather than stated - which i find is used in his character stories, particularly character story 5 where his past is given. although no emotions are mentioned, it's evident how essential his grandmother is to him, only there is no detail about how he felt when losing the last of his family, and having to arrange her funeral, and enrolling in the akademiya when he previously believed it to be boring, and the years spent after his graduation, up until the point where kaveh moves in - in contrast to kaveh's character stories which are extremely detail heavy in these regards.

there's a clear contrast between kaveh and alhaitham's experiencing of emotion in inner monologue, especially when it comes to alhaitham's grandmother's last wishes, as it's an impactful line about her wanting him to lead a peaceful life, and there's no further elaboration on this; the emotion is there to be interpreted, whereas kaveh will be explicit about his exact feelings at the time, and how these feelings change, or don't change.

for me, both are interesting to write, as kaveh's empathy ensures that he will be in constant motion, avidly aware of each shift of mood in any conversation, or aware of a thought that alhaitham might be chasing. if writing when alhaitham and kaveh are not in sync, then justifying kaveh's mindset and his interpretation of alhaitham can fuel the dialogue (whether it be typical banter or strained conversation). on the other hand, alhaitham's emotions are more subtextual, perhaps he'll notice kaveh beginning to frown when working, which shows that alhaitham has been staring at kaveh rather than reading, or something. i interpret his inner monologue as him being thoroughly aware of how he feels towards kaveh, and therefore he has no need to reiterate this when thinking - again, in contrast to kaveh, whose mood and feelings fluctuate depending on those around him.

those are just my personal approaches in case it's of any interest to you! if you're hesitant to write because you feel like things won't be 'in-character', i'd argue that fanfiction as a medium ensures that works can't be in-character as it won't be the game's canon; especially as characters can be reinterpreted for each person depending on the plot and the themes. in general, i'd say write whatever, and however you want, so long as you're writing something. you can come back and edit it later, and you may find that new ideas come to you as you start writing. so long as you're having fun!

as for things i like about them in terms of in-game canon(?), i would say that aside from the writing of their dialogue and their character stories, their arguments on the bulletin board posts around sumeru are so sacred and special! when you get to sumeru i highly recommend running around to find them! it feels very rewarding to click through each post to find alhaitham responding to each and every post that kaveh makes <3

additionally, there's the idea that as alhaitham accidentally created an aesthetically pleasing rug print design, with (supposedly) kaveh doing the same by creating a practical, affordable rug, mirroring each other's traits of artistry vs practicality (thanks to haikavehtimely). the devs being thorough in their haikaveh propaganda is so insane, but if i had made haikaveh i would be doing the exact same thing???

as for design inspiration, the idea of them resembling plato and aristotle in terms of their beliefs is rather interesting?? especially with kaveh talking about beauty having a whole form, in that it's a concept intrinsically understood! especially with their splash art poses in mind (which is written about in the haikaveh bible)

blessed be headcanons! i end up writing them into my fics, but i think the spaces in canon leave a lot to interpretation, so i think i end up working around that? a lot of them are domestic for me, for example, kaveh definitely has a skin/hair routine, and i think while alhaitham may not go to such lengths, he values cleanliness and has a lengthy bath time (alhaitham likes the smells of kaveh's skincare and kaveh likes the subtle smells of alhaitham's bath oils).

also!! that kitchen is TINYYY!! i think it's !?!?!? that alhaitham canonically had that research lab redesigned into a house, and approved a design that had TWO bedrooms, even after kaveh rejected the building?? i think he prioritised his dreams of a reunion over realistic living conventions and that kitchen is atrociously small, and kaveh complains about it all the time and clowns on alhaitham, so they have to scrunch up when cooking, or they establish a cooking schedule, which, a lot of the time, goes out the window, as they go to the tavern or get take away <3

thank you so much for your ask! it was really interesting to explore all these questions, i hope it's been useful to you in any way :''') and thank you for your support!

[wolfstardaughter-jj]

Waste of Time

Summary: The annual Holiday dinner was being hosted by the Lupin-Blacks like usual but this time, some new things about their daughter may come up in the dinner that may change everything or maybe nothing at all.

Pairing: Parents! Wolfstar & daughter!reader

Song: Girls by girl in red

Warnings: anxiety, coming out, comfort, alcohol, all characters are at legal drinking age so dw

Word count: 2.6k+ 

A/n: to the one who requested this, ik you asked for Wolfstar’s reaction to their daughter coming out but seeing as it's the holidays, I feel like coming out during a family/friend Holiday gathering is so fitting. So I hope you like it and anyone else who reads it. Happy holidays to you lovelies<333

~~~~~~

The holidays were always a love filled holiday. The endless lists of Christmas Movies rotating around romance were just one example of them. Seeing someone who hates christmas get paired with someone who loves christmas only for them to fall in love and save christmas in some small, close-knit town. It was an overplayed trope, but it still entertained the Lupin-Black household. 

Remus and Sirius were snuggled up on the couch, sharing their bowl of popcorn while Teddy was enjoying his own bowl of popcorn on the floor next to Loki napping next to him. You were off in the kitchen fixing up a few cups of hot cocoa to counter the cold chilly afternoons at the cottage.

A scene of The movie played through and all you could hear from the living room was Teddy’s bored narration of the events that followed through the screen. 

“The girl's ex boyfriend is gonna pop up on the very night of the event- Then! The other guy is gonna see them and think the wrong thing and blah blah blah-” his voice was cut off by a light thud and a subtle grunt. 

You leaned over to the side of the counter to peek through the kitchen arch to see your little brother on his back with his face covered by a throw pillow. Loki was rudely awakened by these events and left the scene and into the kitchen to find you.

Sirius was laughing heavily at his work while Remus shook his head with a chuckle at his husband's antics.

“What was that for, Papa?!” Teddy grumbled as he sat up from the floor.

Sirius looked over at his son and shrugged his shoulders, “Just cause.”

Teddy rolled his eyes jokingly and threw popcorn at Sirius.

Sirius let out a chuckle and before Teddy could even process it. His father had begun tossing the popcorn into his face at rapid speeds.Teddy giggled along as he too started throwing it back at him.

Remus raised his hands up in order to shield himself from the stray popcorns that would come his way. But it was all in vain as he was eventually caught in the crossfire.

You stood there at the kitchen archway, mouth agape at the sight. You had only looked away for a moment and all of a sudden it was an all out war in there. Popcorn was tossed all around the living room. Many of it ending up in Sirius’s and Teddy’s hair. Many of the cushions and throw blankets had found its way to the floor. It was like a tornado flew through the living room.

“You guys are ridiculous.” You laughed as you rested down the four cups of hot cocoa on the table.

Remus reached down to the coffee table to grab himself a cup as he agreed with his daughter, “You do recall that the others will be visiting us later, right?”

Your ears pricked up at the reminder of your friends coming over to visit for the holidays. “Oh Godric, I almost forgot.”

“Yes, and now these two have to clean up the mess they made.” Remus said cheekily as he laid back on the couch as he looked at his husband and son.

Sirius shook his head as he pulled out his wand and conjured up a cleaning spell, leaving the space just as clean as it was before they started their little food fight. “There, good as new.”

Remus shook his head with a chuckle at the little trick, “What would you do without magic?”

Sirius stood up as he grabbed the bowls of popcorn with a shrug, “Stay in bed all day in my pajamas.”

Teddy looked at him with an amused look, “You already do that.”

Both you and Remus let out a rather loud laugh at Teddy’s reply. Sirius however wasn’t too fond of his son’s retort and threw a small piece of popcorn to his face before leaving the living room.

~~~~~~~~

The cottage was just buzzing with life and music. There was just something about the Lupin-Black household that made them so open to hosting their annual Christmas gatherings with their friends.

The Potters had popped in with a notably large selection of gifts along with a mysteriously broom-shaped gift which no doubt is meant for the youngest Lupin-Black. The Weasleys had also come bearing gifts in forms of casseroles and baked goods with Molly’s signature meals all wrapped neatly for everyone (mostly Sirius) to enjoy. Hermione had also accompanied them seeing as she was spending the holidays with them too.

Marlene and Dorcas had just come straight from France bringing gifts and sweets, no doubt for their favorite goddaughter. You had grown to be a sort of daughter to them so they basically shower you with gifts every time the Holidays came around.

Regulus had accompanied both Marlene and Dorcas when the three of them bumped into each other in France during Regulus’s travels to the country. He had brought back piles of books to give to you and Remus, along with a few more books for Lily. Mary was last to arrive with a plethora of gifts as well, which only furthered Teddy’s excitement.

With everyone taking up nearly every inch of the fairly sized cottage, it was almost impossible to find a quiet space, other than your room up in the attic. You’d consider this place to be the most cozy room in the whole house. As much as you enjoyed everyone’s company you would much rather recharge up in your bedroom so you could continue the events later on.

Though, you were in great need for a recharge, there was another reason you were hiding up in your room. Truth was, you were planning on finally coming out to your family about being gay. 

You should have seen the signs back during your early years at Hogwarts when none of the boys in your year really caught your attention. One of the signs was when all the girls seemed to fawn over Cedric Diggory, a close friend of yours during your 4th year. You had only ever seen Cedric as a friend so when he had asked you to the ball, you turned him down. Not just because you weren’t interested in him but because you knew he was better suited for a certain Ravenclaw.

Another sign was when the Beauxbaton students were introduced, like the boys, you were completely enamored by the girls in their school. Being part veela played into that part but would it really have affected you that much if you didn’t have an interest in girls?

Not to mention that you shared your first kiss with a girl from Beauxbaton on the night of the Yule ball. You had gone with Harry but your memories of that night all faded to that moment spent with that girl in the gardens. That really sealed the deal for you. 

You had told one person and one person only about that night and what you felt and that was Harry. He was basically your brother and you knew about him and Draco so you knew he would understand. 

He seemed to have taken it quite well, though he did have a slight comment along the words of you being single and having no love life whatsoever. Which did lead to you spending the entire week making the twins pull pranks on him as revenge.

You did mention to him that you planned on telling your parents about it, including everyone else during this very dinner. Which only made your anxiety rise to the roof. You knew they would accept you but it's their reaction and how they would treat you after is what scared you.

As you hummed along to the record player that played across the room, you heard a faint knock on your door.

“Little Wolf? Dinner is about to start. Will you be joining us?” Remus’s voice carried through the door and across the room, just enough for you to hear him.

“Yeah, just give me a minute, dad.” You replied as you cleaned yourself up as you rose from the floor.

As you exited the house and onto the patio, you felt your anxiety begin to bubble violently in your stomach. It almost made you sick to the point that you didn’t want to join dinner. But you had promised yourself that you would do it. There’s no backing out of that promise. So you took a seat by Hermione which was across from Harry and Ron. You were also seated nearby the twins who managed to sneak in a flask and offered it up to you guys to put into your drinks. It was something a bit stronger than the butterbeer they were having at the table so you all happily accepted the offer.

In a way it helped with your nerves. You weren’t one to drink but for this moment, you sure as hell needed it.

While everyone engulfed themselves in their own conversations, you heard your name get called out from the further side of the table.

“Y/n? Have you found yourself a little boyfriend yet?” Lily’s voice carried across the table much louder than she expected which caused everyone’s eyes to land on you. 

You let out an awkward laugh at the question. The famous old question, “Do you have a boyfriend yet?”. Godric knows you didn’t and you didn’t plan on dating anyone any time soon but you couldn’t say that.

“It’s always going to be school before boys, Auntie Lils.” You had your mouth masked away from Sirius to hide the words you were about to say next, “Besides, you know how he is about boys.” using your free hand to point at your father.

Lily grinned at your reply. You reminded her a lot of herself back when she was younger. 

Sirius grinned proudly at your reply, not hearing your little comment on his opinion on boys. He was heavily protective over you so to know that you weren’t planning on dating any boys while at school calmed him.

The conversation resumed back to quidditch games and studies and plans for the holidays. Everyone had their own things to talk about but it seems the boyfriend conversation didn’t satisfy the boys’ curiosity.

“Really, School over boys?” Ron chuckled lightly as he repeated your words.

“Is it so hard for you to believe that I prioritize school over my love life, Ronald?” You asked in a defending tone, looking over at Hermione hoping she would back you up on this.

The boys let out a light chuckle from their side.

“Even Hermione and Ron are dating,” Fred commented as he pointed to the two of them.

“And you know how she is about her studies.” George continued as he grabbed another piece of chicken.

Hermione looked at the twins with an unimpressed stare. “There’s still nothing wrong with choosing school over relationships.” Hermione looked back towards you with a soft smile, “Pay no mind to them, you don’t need to explain yourself, they clearly don't deserve it.”

“and also because she doesn’t like boys.” Harry replied mindlessly as he took another sip of his drink.

You whipped your head towards his direction when you heard his words. A panicked look crossed both your faces when his words finally sunk in.

“What?!” Everyone seated around Harry had heard him, with the exemption of a few adults including your parents.

“Harry!” You scolded as you shrunk further into your seat at the confession with your hands covering your face in embarrassment. This wasn’t how you planned on doing it.

You knew Harry was a lightweight and a truth drunk but you didn’t even consider he would mention it during the dinner. You couldn’t blame him, you didn’t know that the topic of boys would be brought up so it didn’t even cross your mind that he would say it.

“Are you serious?” Fred asked you. He didn’t mean it in a mean way but he wanted to confirm that what he heard was right.

You looked at him between the spaces of your fingers.”Yes” Your voice was muffled by the palm of your hand, still too scared to show the rest of your face.

The rest of the adults seated on the other half of the table noticed the ruckus occurring on your side of the table and became curious.

“Serious about what?” Marlene asked on behalf of the group.

All that they saw was Harry’s panicked stare, your terrified and embarrassed state with the rest of them staring at you in a shocked look.

Ron looked up at them and was about to speak but you spoke up before him and even stood up from your seat to call their attention.

“That…I’m gay.” You spoke out with a shaky voice. But before anyone else could respond you continued on. You looked at both of your parents and even as the anxiety in your head was blaring out alarms, you still continued on knowing that this was it. This was the moment you’ve been waiting for.

“Dad, papa… I had something else in mind on how this would go down. But that didn’t exactly go as planned.” You spoke as you sent a look towards Harry who smiled an apologetic grin. “But yes, I like girls and not boys. I’ve known that since my 4th year and that’s the truth.”

They all sat there in silence for a while as they processed your words before Sirius let out a yell of joy as he jumped out of his chair. He rounded around the table and made his way to you to pull you in a hug. 

“MY DAUGHTER DOESN’T LIKE BOYS!” He exclaimed in relief even as he held you in a tight embrace. 

“Papa!” You laughed at your father’s reaction as he continued to hug you, even picking you up to spin you around like how he used to when you were little.

“Don’t mind him, little wolf. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to deal with you dating boys.” Remus said as he joined the hug, along with little Teddy who wanted to be included in the hug.

Everyone else that sat on the table cheered at the sight. Many of them remembered how it was to come out back then to their parents and in many instances, it was never a good experience. But this was different. This moment was filled with love and acceptance, something many of them longed for back when they were younger with their parents.

“She takes after me!” Marlene cheered out which caused a chorus of chuckles to flow through the table.

After a few moments, the family finally pulled away from each other’s embrace and to your relief nothing changed. You still had the kind and amazing parents who had always loved and accepted you for who you were and a little brother who still adores you completely.

You looked at Harry with a content smile. Though you planned on coming out with a completely different plan, at least you were finally out. To be completely honest, you thought that you wouldn’t have even done it during the dinner so maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Harry was a light weight and just so happened to be sitting by the twins.