#pack leader wc

[mothmans-warriors-designs]

Based him on a Rottweiler

[clanslist]

[smileysuh]

daylighter

🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters. 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, threesome, foreplay, fingering, squirting, pussy eating, sadism, breast worship, Eiffel tower, blow job (m receiving), hand job, praise, dirty talk, degradation, power imbalances, dom!Wonwoo, Switch!Gyu, masturbation, sloppy Gyu, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.3k

🍭 aus.  Supernatural au, werewolf!Gyu, Vampire!Wonwoo, 

☀️ mlist + an. And with that, 2024 is complete :) I wanted to end it with a bang, and this pairing has been a staple on my blog for years now. Thank you to everyone who has supported me this year in any capacity, and happy holidays!

Prologue: 

“The ascension is in a year,” the crone sighs, looking out at the room of gathered witches and allies. “I think we all agree that the timing of Seungcheol’s departure is less than ideal, especially now that we’ve narrowed down an ancestral safehouse with adequate warding.”

You frown, and your vampire protector immediately reaches out to hold your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze. 

As the future head of your coven, you have a protection detail, and Seungcheol has been an anchor in your life since you were eighteen. It had been a daring attempt at protecting you, after all, alphas like Seungcheol can’t just leave their packs to take on a witch princess as their ward, but Seungcheol had given up a lot to ensure your safety. 

Now, he’s returning to his pack, to his own world, and you’re not quite sure where to go from here.

“There is, however, a replacement,” the crone continues. “A beta by the name of Kim Mingyu. He is, supposedly, a prodigy. He’s the size of an alpha, with domestic attributes that make him uniquely qualified for the assignment of protecting our future leader. Seungcheol offered Mingyu up personally when he found out we would be relocating y/n to a compound. The alpha believed, and I agree with him, that, by having Mingyu on location, it would reduce the need for extra staff to deal with cooking and maintenance. By all accounts, this beta, Mingyu, and our loyal vampire protector, Wonwoo, should be able to look after y/n completely independently, which would lower the risk of demonic attack through spies.”

Wonwoo shifts beside you, and you know the stoic man well enough to understand that small movements like this are a sign of irritation.

While Wonwoo and the wolves who’ve been a part of your protection detail in the past have all had blood ties to you, the vampire has made it clear he’s never been fond of working with ‘dogs.’

But as skilled as Wonwoo is, there’s one thing he simply can’t defeat, and that’s the sun. You’re the most protected witch in the world by night, but by day, you need a different line of defence, and that’s always been the job of wolves.

There was a vampire, once, who took care of a member of your family line during the day. An ancestor of yours had done the impossible, she’d created a ‘Daylighter Potion’ that could enable vampires to walk in the sun. That forbidden knowledge had incurred the wrath of demons. Your ancestor, as well as her daywalking companion, had been lost to a bloody history, and with them, the recipe for this transformation process.

There are still hopes of recreating the Daylighter Potion, but until then, this Kim Mingyu is necessary. You can only pray he’s cut from the same cloth as your exiting alpha.   

One: 

The wards are definitely strong, something Mingyu realizes as he approaches the large compound house he’ll be protecting you in from now on. The location is also super secluded, with the nearest town over an hour away.

If you’re looking to protect someone, this is definitely the place to do it, and when Wonwoo opens the door to the large home, Mingyu realizes immediately that the stoic vampire is as formidable as Seungcheol had made him out to be.

Power oozes off the immortal being, and Mingyu, despite his size, suddenly feels quite small.

“Hi,” Mingyu says, forcing a smile and an extended hand, “I’m Mingyu.”

“You’re late,” Wonwoo responds, pushing the door open and turning to walk away, clearly expecting Mingyu to follow.

“Yeah, I uh, got turned around on the roads. My GPS shit itself.”

Wonwoo remains quiet, and Mingyu hurries to keep up with him. 

“I’ll give you a tour, then you’ll go meet y/n,” Wonwoo sighs, and thus, the exploration of the house begins.

Mingyu does his best to be quiet, to take in the information. Wonwoo seems like the type to only say something once, and Mingyu doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him.

Seungcheol had also warned Mingyu about the vampire’s general hatred for werewolves, so Mingyu knows this isn’t a friendship or working relationship that will be earned overnight.

“Can I uh, ask a few questions?” Mingyu enquires as the tour comes close to an end.

“If they’re not stupid.”

Mingyu forces a laugh, but it’s clear from the vampire’s expression that he had been serious, so the chuckle dies down quickly. “Why only two guards?”

“The location is remote enough to be quite secure, as is the warding,” Wonwoo responds smoothly. “Think of this house like the Pentagon, no outside entity has ever breached it.”

“And the demons who are after y/n, it’s because she’s set to be the next crone?”

“In part,” Wonwoo sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “She’s very powerful, and there are certain potions that only she can produce, potions that were lost.”

“What kind of potions?” Witches are known for their tonics, sure, but Mingyu’s never assumed potions to be the most interesting aspect of being a spell caster.

“Old ones,” Wonwoo states, signaling the end of the line of questioning. He begins to walk again, and Mingyu follows, biting his tongue as his mind runs a million miles an hour.

Mingyu can smell the greenhouse solarium before he’s even entered it. The scent of fresh herbs, flowers and general greenery is delightful in comparison to the mustiness of everything else in the old mansion, and Mingyu takes a deep breath as he enters the space.

It’s dark out, but the room is illuminated with fairy lights, their reflections twinkling in all of the windows. It had begun to rain just as Mingyu had pulled up with his truck, and the soft pattering of water on glass is more soothing than the wolf had expected. 

“Y/N,” Wonwoo says, drawing your attention from where you’re seated on a couch, pouring over old books. “This is Mingyu.”

You look up, and Mingyu’s immediately struck by your beauty. The final thing Seungcheol had warned him about was your looks, but his description of you hadn’t done your features justice. There’s a power in your eyes, but a softness in everything else. You’re not some old crone, not by a long shot. 

Mingyu’s alpha had told Mingyu that the vampire guarding you has somewhat of an interest in you, an interest that goes beyond that of protector. Seungcheol had figured that if you, a powerful witch, were going to favour someone, it would be better if it was a wolf than a blood sucker- but even if he hadn’t told Mingyu to get close to you, one look at your lovely smile as you stand to greet him is enough to make Mingyu want to know you better.

“How was the drive?” you ask, pushing your book to the side and stretching.

Your cardigan falls slightly off your shoulder, and God, Mingyu’s eyes take in your newly exposed skin like a man dying of hydration takes in water. He swallows the lump in his throat-

“The dog got lost,” Wonwoo responds before Mingyu gets the chance to.

You laugh. “That happens around here,” you assure him, “you’re definitely not the first.”

“It’s uh, a nice house,” Mingyu offers.

“It belonged to an ancestor,” you say smoothly, “so did these books.”

The werewolf smiles. “Looking for family recipes?” 

“Something like that.” 

Oh, so you’re potentially as secretive as Wonwoo is. What could you possibly be looking for in all these dusty old books that you don’t want to tell him about?

“You must be tired from your drive,” Wonwoo states, turning to Mingyu. “You should go to your room and rest, I’ll take care of y/n now, and when the sun rises, I’ll come get you for your first shift.”

Two: 

You wake up slowly, yawning as you stretch. Your motion knocks a book off your bed and you groan. You’d fallen asleep late in the early morning hours, pouring over books with Wonwoo beside you. Your vampire guard is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a knock on your door and a moment later, Mingyu is poking his head inside.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, just dropped a book,” you respond, leaning over your bed to pick up the diary.

“What were you reading?”

“An ancestor’s journal,” you groan, still trying to shake away your morning grogginess. 

“Any hot gossip from the middle ages?” the werewolf jokes with a boyish grin.

“Nothing too interesting,” you grin. “Give me a sec to get dressed, then we’re going to go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“In the forest, I need some mushrooms that aren’t growing in the solarium.”

With a nod, the werewolf goes back to his post outside your door. You take your time getting ready, even going so far as to brush your teeth. Werewolves have sensitive noses, and the last thing you’d want is for some hot beta to smell your morning breath.

Half an hour later, you and Mingyu are walking through the woods.

You’d written a list of various mushrooms and plants you’d need from your readings last night, and Mingyu is holding your basket as the two of you scour the trees and forest floor for potion ingredients.

You notice that Mingyu is quite twitchy. Every sound, every bird flying overhead, draws his eyes.

“We’re quite safe here, you know,” you laugh, thinking his behaviour is adorable.

“Can’t let anything happen to you,” the werewolf muses.

“You sound like Wonwoo.”

“Has he been protecting you for long?”

“Since I was eighteen,” you nod, bending down to collect some moss. 

“You two must be close.”

“We are.” Your relationship with Wonwoo isn’t something you spend a lot of time dwelling on. He’s your guard, and you’re pretty sure that’s all you are to him, a precious witch he needs to protect due to vampire blood pacts.

You care about him, sure, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, so you’re okay with it being a one sided affection.

“Anyways,” Mingyu sighs, reading your cues and changing the subject, “what potion are you going to make?”

“There are a few I want to try, old things from the texts.”

“Anything interesting?”

“I found a perplexing potion for dog smells, not that I’m saying you smell, but I know Wonwoo always hated Seungcheol’s scent. I figured he might not look so sour whenever you’re around if you smelt better.”

To your surprise, the werewolf laughs. “So you’re making me cologne from moss and mushrooms?”

“Something like that,” you smile.

“Wonwoo was being secretive last night about the potions you make, I figured maybe there was some, I don’t know, super love spell or something crazy that you’d be creating.”

“No super love spells, I don’t believe in those,” you admit. “There are old potions in the texts on the property, things that were lost, for one reason or another. My brewing skills are a little rusty so I figured I’d start with the more mundane recipes before I try anything too extreme.”

“How extreme are we talking?” Mingyu asks. You cast him a sideways glance and he holds up a hand. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever met a witch before, I don’t know much about what you guys do with those big pots and stuff.”

“Cauldrons,” you correct him, your body relaxing again. You take a deep breath. “Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“I can trust you, right?”

“A hundred percent,” he nods, an ernest expression on his face.

You stand up from your moss patch, moving to set some in Mingyu’s basket. “There’s a specific potion I want to make, and I think the recipe might be somewhere in the old books here.” 

“What kind of potion?”

You take another deep breath, trying to decide how to word your response. “Basically, my line has a strong tie to vampires, and we have this tie, because one of my ancestors made a potion. We call it the Daylighter potion, it enables vampires to walk in the sun.”

Mingyu’s jaw drops as he stares at you.

“Yeah, I know, it feels like fairytale, part of me isn’t sure it’s even a real recipe- but the vampires who swear to protect my family think it was real.”

“Does Wonwoo think it’s real?”

“Yes, it’s one of the reasons he’s protecting me. Could you imagine, being a vampire who could walk in the sun? He would be the most powerful vampire in the world.”

Mingyu frowns. “Is it a good idea? To make him more powerful, I mean.”

You contemplate the question for a moment. “Wonwoo has never been anything but good to me. Sure, there are repercussions for knowledge like the Daylighter potion recipe, I mean, my ancestor who created it went missing and was found dead months later-”

“Did she use it? On a vampire?”

You nod. “By all accounts, she used it on her own protector.”

“And did he… you know, did he kill her?”

You shake your head. “No, he was found dead with her. Besides, when vampires make blood ties to witches, they have a curse set on them, they can’t harm us, directly, or indirectly.”

“Sounds like a powerful curse,” Mingyu frowns. “Do uh… the werewolves that work with you have the same curse?”

“Do you need to be muzzled, Mingyu?” you grin. 

He shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

“Good.”

You continue your foraging, and Mingyu is quiet for a while before he begins asking questions again.

“So uh… do you just want to use this Daylighter potion in Wonwoo because he’s your protector, or…”

“Why are you so curious about my relationship with Wonwoo?” you counter. 

He shrugs, but it’s way too nonchalant of a motion to be believable. “No reason.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but decide to let it go. Mingyu may be eluding to things, but it’s his first day here, if he wants to speculate about your connection to Wonwoo, he can guess all he wants. He’ll see how things work around here soon enough. 

Three: 

Wonwoo is exiting his blacked out bedroom the moment the sun has set sufficiently for him to stalk around the old mansion.

He has a one track mind, and the vampire follows his senses to the dining room, where you and Mingyu are sitting to eat dinner.

It takes a moment for Wonwoo to survey the surrounding area. The smell of garlic and ginger is quite potent, and it appears that the wolf has made you some sort of ramen. “Wonwoo!” you grin excitedly, “Mingyu’s an amazing cook, I wish you could try this!”

The wolf’s heart skips a beat, and it irks Wonwoo, who simply scoffs and heads to the kitchen to grab his blood bag. He’s irritated when he’s hungry, and Wonwoo can feel himself calming down as he rejoins you in the dining room.

Wonwoo takes his seat next to you, mindful of the books strewn about. He picks one up, beginning to flip through it. “How was your day?” he asks you.

“It was good,” you respond casually. “We went for a walk, gathered some moss and mushrooms, I’ve got a potion brewing right now that I think you’re going to like.”

Wonwoo casts you a sideways glance, had you found the Daylighter recipe? 

“It’s like werewolf cologne,” Mingyu pipes up from the other side of the table. “Gonna make me not smell so bad.”

Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to Mingyu, and he feels irritation bubbling inside of himself again. Logically, it’s clear that the new wolf is trying to be friendly, and he’s taking steps to mask odor- but Wonwoo just can’t find any friendship in his heart for Mingyu.

He gets the sense that you and Mingyu have bonded today, and the way you’re eating up the ramen Mingyu made isn’t doing anything to help settle the uneasy feeling in Wonwoo’s stomach.

Seungcheol’s an alpha, and Wonwoo had respected him. Cheol had come with one goal, and one goal alone, to protect you. As an alpha, he had a whole life to go back to- but this beta, well, Wonwoo’s not too sure about how this ‘protection detail’ might pan out.

It’s clear Mingyu’s attracted to you, Wonwoo had seen it in his eyes the moment he’d met you last night. This little wolf crush is irritating, and Wonwoo hates being irritated.

Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to you. It’s unclear to him how you feel about your new day guard. You seem happy to be eating, so any emotions you have toward the werewolf will be skewed due to the joy you’re getting from the ramen.

No, Wonwoo will have to watch the two of you together closely, but, at the moment, he’s more concerned about getting Mingyu out of here so he can enjoy you himself.

“It’s about time you go to bed, wolf,” Wonwoo says.

“It’s still early,” Mingyu argues.

“Sunrise is at six fourty-five,” the vampire counters. “I’m sure you’ve had a long first day. You should rest.”

This time, Wonwoo makes sure to leave no room in his tone for objection, and with a very doglike look of defeat, Mingyu sighs.

“Okay, yeah, I can go to bed.” 

Wonwoo watches as Mingyu lifts up his bowl of ramen, and in two massive, wolfish slurps, he devours the rest of his food.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Mingyu smiles before heading to the kitchen to put away his dishes.

The werewolf lingers for a few minutes, and Wonwoo relaxes when he finally leaves, lumbering up to his second floor bedroom.

“You could have been nicer to him, you know,” you muse, lifting up a book to scan the potion recipe there.

“I could have been,” Wonwoo agrees, leaving it at that.

The two of you rifle through books as you eat your dinner, and then you head to the living room. Your nightly ritual consists of watching movies together, giving you a bit of a break before you go to read before bed.

Wonwoo knows you’ve been wearing yourself thin with all the books you’ve been flipping through. You’d spent the first three days locked in the house and thoroughly examining the library with Wonwoo before Mingyu had shown up, and Wonwoo would be surprised if you’d slept even eight hours in that three day period.

No, you need rest, even if it’s only when sitting next to him on the couch with a movie going.

You fall asleep in no time, and Wonwoo lets you be. He picks up a potions book, flipping through it while the film continues in the background.

Wonwoo won’t let anything hurt you, and he’ll lighten your load in any way he can, even if it means scanning stupid witch recipes. 

Four: 

Mingyu’s been your guard for around a week now, and things are running smoothly, however, you can tell Wonwoo’s still not happy about the situation. It’s midnight and the two of you are in the solarium, you’re getting bored of going through books, so you sigh, setting yours down.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Annoyed,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, not looking up from his book. “I swear I’ve read over fifty different love potions this week, and they’re all just as useless as the last.”

“That’s because love potions don’t work,” you sigh, moving closer to Wonwoo. “Each potion has a different flaw, so each potion is adjusted to make up for that flaw, only to be ruined in some other way. But hey, you know that’s not what I was asking you.”

“You asked how I was feeling.”

“I mean… how are you feeling about this whole Mingyu thing?” 

“I feel,” Wonwoo sighs, “like we better find this Daylighter potion soon, because that werewolf cologne isn’t working as well as we thought it would.”

“Is it just his smell you don’t like?” you ask.

“I don’t like dogs,” Wonwoo states, still not looking at you.

“I know werewolves and vampires don’t get along, but I mean, he’s a nice guy, don’t you think?”

Wonwoo stays silent, an answer in and of itself.

You  groan. “Even if we do find the Daylighter potion, even if I’m able to brew it, you can’t protect me twenty four seven. I think Mingyu is going to be with us longer than anticipated.”

“I can protect you,” Wonwoo declares, finally raising his eyes to meet your own. “When you brew the potion, and I can walk in the sun, I can protect you always.”

“Even vampires need a little rest every now and again,” you sigh. “Besides, is that really what you want? To protect some young witch until she’s an old lady?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shift downward again. “You’re not just some young witch.”

You continue staring at Wonwoo, trying your best to read him. You wonder if maybe he does care for you, if Mingyu’s seeing something you’re not. Why would Wonwoo be so protective of you if he didn’t have some sort of feeling for you? He clearly doesn’t just want the Daylighter potion so he can leave you and go be a powerful vampire elsewhere.

God, he’s so confusing at times.

You let out a breath. “I told Mingyu about the potion.”

“What?”

“The Daylighter potion, I told Mingyu.”

Wonwoo closes his book, and you can tell from his expression that he’s irritated. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Who’s he going to tell?” you retort. “Seungcheol? Even if he did, what would Cheol even do about it?”

“If the wolves ever found out there was a potion to make vampires walk in the sunlight, they’d come destroy this whole house, and they’d kill you too, just for good measure.”

“Seungcheol just spent years protecting me,” you argue. “He would never do that, and besides, Mingyu won’t tell anyone.”

“What makes you so certain?”

“I just am, call it witch’s intuition.” 

To your surprise, Wonwoo actually cracks a smile. He shakes his head, releasing a sigh. “Fine.”

“Fine,” you echo, picking up your book again to continue reading.

The two of you sit silently as you work, but your mind begins to drift.

In a way, it’s almost as if Wonwoo feels threatened by Mingyu, as if- he’s jealous. There’d never been this aura when Seungcheol was around, but then again, Seungcheol had never been a real threat, even though he was an alpha… maybe, especially because he was an alpha.

You’re attracted to both Wonwoo and Mingyu, but you’ve always pushed that attraction aside with your vampire protector, always convinced yourself he didn’t view you in that light.

Mingyu’s arrival is stirring the cauldron, and you’re not quite sure what to make of it. 

Five: 

It’s been almost a month with no issue. Mingyu’s gotten used to everything, used to the constant reading, the constant witchy little foraging adventures. He’s just gotten used to you, and maybe, in someways, Wonwoo as well. 

The werewolf is currently sitting outside your bedroom as you shower in your ensuite. The two of you had been checking wards when it had started to rain, and you’d been shivering so much when you made it back to the house that Mingyu had insisted you heat yourself up.

He does his best not to listen when you’re in the shower, not to be overtly aware- but even with two doors between you, his senses are too strong not to be honed in on everything, especially with a full moon approaching in three days.

You have a bodywash you make, and although the strong pleasant scent of eucalyptus and rosemary is predominant in the air that wafts under the doors, there’s something beneath it too, a smell that Mingyu knows all too well.

He can’t hold it against you though, he’s pretty sure you’re all a little horny from being cooped up like this- well, maybe not Wonwoo, but Mingyu’s definitely been feeling it. The bathroom is the only place you have any real privacy, and lately, Mingyu’s noted that you’ve begun to use the seclusion to your advantage. 

The running water muffles your sounds, but even the world’s best witchy bodywash can’t cover your scent, and Mingyu sits there, doing his best not to gulp it down like a starving animal.

He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, and he does his best to turn his brain off, to calm down- after all, he can’t have you exiting the shower and seeing him hard in his pants.

God, Mingyu had never even considered that horniness would be a problem in a situation like this. 

At least he gets to go to his room every night and do what needs to be done- but you, you have a guard within 10 feet of you at all times.

He wonders if you do this at night, when Wonwoo’s outside your door. And for the first time, Mingyu wonders if Wonwoo’s as tormented by the sexual nature of seclusion as he is. 

It’s not something he’ll be able to ask the vampire, as much as Wonwoo tolerates Mingyu now, that’s a line he won’t cross. 

Six: 

When Mingyu had first come to the house, he’d just finished a full moon cycle. Wonwoo had spent a couple of hours with him while you were sleeping one night, preparing a game plan for the wolf’s ‘time of the month.’

As your night protector, Wonwoo had told Mingyu to go deep into the woods on the night of the full moon. If he was far enough away, the thought was that Mingyu would just stay in the forest, leaving you to your own devices for the night.

Even if Mingyu did make it to the house in his raged-out wolf form, Wonwoo would protect you, and Mingyu had given him permission to do so.

While Mingyu can transform at any time, full moons are the only transformations that are purely animalistic. All Mingyu is, his very soul, practically disappears. Full moons are when werewolves are at their most dangerous, but Wonwoo is confident in his strategies after spending years helping Seungcheol through his dark side.

Cheol had always spent the day after full moons passed out in the woods somewhere, his body recuperating from a mind/body disconnection of that caliber. Once a month, Wonwoo would do a double shift, and you’d spend the day resting with him in blacked-out rooms. 

The two of you get through many books, and when you’re hungry, Wonwoo lets you head down to the kitchen for no more than ten minutes just to grab leftovers. 

It’s a decent set up, and Wonwoo enjoys getting to be with you for a lengthy period. However, the night after the full moon, when you go to sleep, Wonwoo leaves you to head into the forest. Mingyu, like Seungcheol had been, is not hard to find. His scent is overwhelming, and Wonwoo discovers the large man asleep in a bed of moss.

Wonwoo’s no stranger to nudity, not after dealing with Seungcheol, so he simply bends down, lifting Mingyu onto his shoulders.

‘This is just a professional courtesy,’ the vampire tells himself as he takes Mingyu back to the house, gently lowering him into the tub. 

Mingyu’s covered in dirt, and blood too- if his entire being wasn’t tainted by the scent of dog, Wonwoo might actually be tempted to go in for a bite, but the thought of drinking from Mingyu makes Wonwoo’s nose scrunch as he turns on the water.

Wolves can handle heat, and Mingyu groans a little, shifting in the tub. The bathroom begins to fill with steam and Wonwoo finds a wash cloth. He coats the fabric in body wash, and then, with a sigh, Wonwoo begins to wash Mingyu.

The wolf’s arms are especially dirty, so Wonwoo starts with those, and little by little, Mingyu begins to regain consciousness.

Then, all at once, the werewolf is thrashing awake, pulling his arm away from Wonwoo. “What-”

“Relax, you had a particularly bad change last night,” Wonwoo sighs, putting the wash cloth down.

“Were you just…” Mingyu’s confused gaze dips down to the discarded cloth, “washing me?”  

“You smell terrible,” Wonwoo states bluntly. “Seungcheol had a habit of coming home from full moons and just getting into bed. We don’t have staff here, and I refuse to have ruined sheets, or change the laundry schedule.”

There are definitely factual, logical reasons for Wonwoo taking care of Mingyu, and without those reasons, Wonwoo would never dream of bathing a dog. But… Mingyu has been a good addition to your protection detail. He’s substantially more respectful than Seungcheol had been. He’s clean, and he cooks, and the kitchen is always spotless after he makes you meals. 

While Wonwoo respected Seungcheol, the vampire, as much as he hates to admit it to himself, somewhat enjoys the young prodigy wolf.

Wonwoo doesn’t respect the clumsy, gentle giant, not by any means, but perhaps, the vampire is starting to realize, there’s more to judging someone than just by their ability and enthusiasm for violence.

Seven: 

You’re sitting in a field of flowers, and the colors are wonderous. The sun is out, and the dress you’re wearing has the perfect amount of flow to it as you lounge on your picnic blanket. 

You lean back, releasing a deep sigh, and that’s when a hand drags up your arm.

You turn to see your vampire protector and your heart leaps in your chest. “Wonwoo! The sun!”

“The sun doesn’t matter anymore,” he shakes his head. “You cured me, remember?”

“I did?”

“The potion,” Wonwoo grins, leaning forward, his lips ghosting over your throat. “You cured me of my affliction to the sun.”

Confusion is bubbling inside of you, but as Wonwoo begins to kiss your neck, the confusion dies down. Your fingers thread in his hair. “I did cure you,” you muse, giving in to the feeling of him. 

“We found the recipe in the book, at the house.”

“The house,” you murmur. 

“Which house was it again? I can’t remember.”

He doesn’t remember the house? That’s odd. Wonwoo remembers everything-

A distant voice draws your attention. It’s calling your name, and it sounds so familiar-

“Tell me where you are,” Wonwoo urges.

“We’re in a field?”

“Tell me where you are,” the vampire repeats, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing painfully. When you look into his eyes, they’re completely black, and your heart leaps in your chest. Horns grow out of his head, and a moment later, it’s no longer Wonwoo in front of you, it’s a demon.

“Y/N, wake up!” a booming voice tears you away, and suddenly, you’re not in the field anymore. Your eyes snap open and you sit up abruptly, heart still racing in your chest. 

You feel arms wrap around you, and you realize it’s Wonwoo, the real Wonwoo. 

“I had the strangest dream,” you breathe, still trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“It was an incubus,” Wonwoo tells you. “I could sense that he’d entered your mind.”

“He was trying to find out where we are, to see if I’d made the Daylighter potion yet,” you whisper.

“Did you tell him anything?” Your vampire protector freezes next to you.

“No.” You shake your head. “I didn’t say anything.”

You hear someone release a breath, and you look up to find a frazzled Mingyu standing there. His hair is messy from sleep, and he’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxers. “What the fuck is an incubus?”

“Incubi are above your pay grade,” Wonwoo states simply, holding you closer. “Demons don’t generally get involved with lower levels like us, but the Daylighter potion would disrupt their system.”

“Right,” Mingyu nods, but you can tell he doesn’t fully understand. “Anyways, are we good? You’re good?” He approaches you, holding out a hand.

You grab his extended palm, squeezing gently. “I’m okay.”

As your heart stops racing, your body begins to focus on a different feeling.

It had been an incubus in your dream, and incubi feed off of one thing: sexual energy.

You suddenly feel very hot, in bed, between Mingyu and Wonwoo- God, you’d woken up from a nightmare only to find yourself in your best daydream.

Wonwoo stiffens beside you, and Mingyu’s grip on your hand tightens, his pupils visibly blowing in size. 

Can they… sense that you’re horny?

Fuck… can they smell it with their God damned super senses?

You suddenly feel like a bunny caught between two predators, but for some reason, you’re not actually scared. Both men have the capacity for violence, but you know, in your heart of hearts, that they would never, ever hurt you. 

“We should let her sleep,” Wonwoo says, voice low.

He begins to pull away but you cling tighter to him, your grip increasing on Mingyu’s hand too.

“No,” you breathe, swallowing thickly to get rid of the lump in your throat. “I uh… Don’t go.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo warns, “This could end badly.”

“At this point, I don’t care,” you admit. The vampire looks at you for a few seconds, and you can tell he’s trying to get a read on your emotions. You cup his cheek with your free hand. “This is long overdue.”

Wonwoo stares at you, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull away, but then, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time. He’s kissing you softly, showing a gentleness that you hadn’t quite expected.

You release a groan immediately, shifting closer-

Mingyu tugs in your hand. “I’ll just leave.”

You break your kiss with Wonwoo, turning to look at the wolf in the room. “Don’t go,” you whimper. “I want both of you.” 

You catch Mingyu’s gaze shifting to Wonwoo uncertainly, and you feel the vampire tense at your side.

“Both of us?” Wonwoo asks, voice shockingly level considering what you’d just suggested.

“Both,” you repeat, nodding. “I just- I don’t know, you’re both my protectors. I feel like, if I only slept with one of you, it would throw off the dynamic.”

“So you want us both… for the dynamic?” Wonwoo clarifies.

“That sounds horrible,” you groan. “I’m still sleepy- look, I’m attracted to both of you, I care about you both in different ways. Please don’t make me choose.”

You watch Mingyu and Wonwoo exchange a look again, but this time Wonwoo sighs and Mingyu shrugs.

“I won’t step on your toes,” Mingyu promises, addressing the vampire.

Wonwoo releases another exasperated breath. “If anyone knew I was agreeing to share a bed with a dog-”

“He’s a werewolf, don’t be rude,” you chastize, nudging Wonwoo in the ribs.

“Dude, you’ve already seen me naked,” Mingyu points out, and your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.

“What?”

“He carried me in the other night, after the full moon. I woke up in the bath and he was practically grooming me.”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo in shock and he downplays it with a shrug. “I told you, I don’t like dirt on the sheets.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure we’re about to make a mess of this bedding,” Mingyu says, voice lowering as he steps closer. 

“I don’t care,” you breathe. “Enough talk.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Mingyu grins, leaning down and grabbing your jaw. He brings his lips to yours and you immediately groan, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He’s so warm and big, there’s a muskiness to his scent, but it doesn’t remind you of dog. It reminds you of the forest, of sanctuary, and it makes you lean in even more as Mingyu kisses your breath away.

Wonwoo shifts beside you, his hands fanning up and down your arms, then, you feel a second set of lips on your shoulder.

Your sleeping shirt has shifted down a little, allowing Wonwoo to have full access to your skin. Each cold kiss is a contrast to Mingyu’s warmth, and it makes you shiver between your two large protectors.

It seems Wonwoo’s the one with less patience out of the two men, which is something you’re not expecting as he grabs the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it off your body.

You’d not been wearing a bra to bed, and your nipples pebble at the cool air of the room when they’re newly exposed. You groan when two hands grab your breasts, one hot, one cold. It seems both men have a thing for tits, and you can’t say you’re mad about it as they begin to massage you, drawing even more sounds of pleasure from your lips.

It’s Wonwoo who pinches your nipple first and you gasp against Mingyu’s mouth, breaking the kiss to turn and look at Wonwoo over your shoulder. He kisses you deeply, his free hand grabbing the back of your head to draw you close.

You get so lost in Wonwoo that you don’t realize Mingyu has adjusted until wet, hot lips wrap around one of your nipples.

You whimper loudly, pulling away from Wonwoo to look down at Mingyu. His eyes are closed and he groans as he begins to suck diligently on your sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at you in a way you’ve never quite experienced. 

“Shit,” you moan, threading your fingers through Mingyu’s hair.

“I’m getting tired of his smell,” Wonwoo sighs beside you. “I know a way to cover it up.”

Mingyu pulls off your nipple, confusion written on his face.

“You both trust me, right?” the vampire asks, looking between you and the wolf.

“Yes?” you offer, not sure what else to say.

“Y/N, lay on the edge of the bed, Mingyu you’re on the ground below,” Wonwoo instructs.

You exchange a glance with Mingyu, but he shrugs, following through. Wonwoo helps you to the edge of the bed, adjusting so he’s behind you, your smaller body between his legs, ensnared.

“Take her shorts off,” Wonwoo instructs, and Mingyu’s even quicker to follow through with that command than the first.

You release a shuddery breath as your silky shorts are dragged down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to the two men.

Wonwoo’s hand wraps around your body, his fingers seeking out your clit.

You groan as he begins to stroke the sensitive bud, his lips tracing kisses along your throat. “Be good for us,” Wonwoo warns, his digits easily pushing into your wet core.

You whimper, shifting in his embrace. Wonwoo’s free hand braces across your chest, grabbing your breast and pinching at your nipple.

A quiver shakes through your thighs, and when you look down at Mingyu, you find him watching each movement with extreme interest.

Two of Wonwoo’s fingers begin to work open your pussy, and he begins to crook them up toward your gspot, making your legs shake even more.

“Have you ever squirted before?” Wonwoo asks, breath hot along your ear.

It feels so odd to be hearing him speak to you in this context, but at the same time, it feels so right. 

“I’ve never-” you shake your head, swallowing thickly as your words get caught in your throat.

“Good, then we’ll be your first,” Wonwoo smirks against your neck. “You’ll feel pressure, don’t try to fight it, just let your body do what it’s going to do, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod. 

Wonwoo presses one more kiss to your shoulder before his hand begins to move again. He expertly thrusts his fingers up to that special spot, and within seconds you can hear the wetness of your pussy with each movement. 

Mingyu gets closer, and he’s on his knees now. He’s looking between your pussy, your breasts and your face, as if he can’t quite decide what to focus on.

“Gonna squirt on your wolf, make him smell like you, mark him the way wolves usually mark their mates,” Wonwoo tells you, his voice low in your ear.

You whimper at his words, skin beginning to tingle as pleasure unlike anything else builds in the pit of your stomach. 

“Rub your clit for me,” Wonwoo commands next. “I think you’re just about ready for it.”

Your hand is shaking as you bring it between your thighs, gently drawing circles on your sensitive bud as Wonwoo continues to work your pussy, his motions getting even faster, and harder-

You groan desperately, throwing your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder as a powerful release overtakes you. It’s like a pressure on your abdomen, but it’s so delightful at the same time, your body overwhelmed by it all.

You can’t open your eyes, can’t do anything but rub your clit as Wonwoo makes you feel something you’ve never felt.

You’re aware of a wetness between your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Wonwoo continues to work the pleasure out of you.

Finally, he’s tearing his fingers out of you, only to land a gentle smack to your pussy that has you yelping and shaking.

The moment his hand is gone, it’s replaced with a mouth, and your entire body jolts, eyes snapping open to see Mingyu between your thighs. He grabs at you, keeping you steady as his tongue pushes into your tight pussy, lapping at the walls that Wonwoo had just ravaged with his fingers.

The werewolf sucks your clit into his mouth and your body shakes, chest heaving-

Squirting hadn’t felt like an orgasm per se, it had been an entirely unique experience. It was pleasurable, and amazing, but the build up hadn’t been like that of a vibrator or the like- but what Mingyu’s doing to you is familiar. You can feel the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach as he ravages your pussy.

You love how messy he’s being, how sloppy- his tongue is everywhere, in the best possible way.

“Gyu-” you whimper, reaching one hand down to tangle in his hair. You don’t want him to move, don’t want him to go anywhere- your muscles are already tensing in anticipation of the orgasm he’s going to give you, and you’ll be damned if you miss out on it.

“He feels good?” Wonwoo asks in your ear. 

“So good.”

“I’ll give it to the wolf, he knows how to eat.”

There’s something about the deepness of Wonwoo’s voice, the sinful context of what he’s saying- it’s the last straw you need to fall over the edge. Your muscles tense incredibly tight before snapping, pleasure flowing through you like a river.

“Fuck!” you whimper, beginning to thrash- only for both men to hold you down. It’s clear they’re not going to let you run away from the feeling, and they keep you where they want you while Mingyu eats you through your high.

Your entire body is on fire with the pleasure, and you can feel it in every fiber of your being. It’s all consuming, in the best way.

You’re crying by the time Mingyu releases you, pulling away from your pussy. He stares up at you with dark eyes, and when he stands, you notice your squirt dripping down his chest. He’s covered in you, in your scent, and you realize why Wonwoo had wanted foreplay to be like this. Now, all either of them will smell is you, and you think they prefer it this way.

“How are we going to do this?” Mingyu asks, voice gruff, his cock straining against his boxers.

“We’ll take turns,” Wonwoo says factually, beginning to massage your breasts again. “As much as I think we’d all enjoy double penetration, I don’t want to break her. That’s something we’ll have to work up to.”

Mingyu nods. “Turns.”

“I’ll go first,” Wonwoo sighs, kissing your throat. “I’m not as into a mess as you are.”

Mingyu groans, but he doesn’t fight it.

“Because you’re both being good,” the vampire continues, “y/n, you can straddle Mingyu and I’ll fuck you from behind while you both toy with each other.”

“Please be fast,” Mingyu begs, “I don’t know how much I can hold off.”

“You’ll have to,” Wonwoo counters. “Only good dogs get treats.”

An expression blooms across the werewolf features, it’s a mix of lust, annoyance and confusion. You can tell he’s turned on by what Wonwoo just said, but there’s a lack of connection between the feeling, and the logistics that are probably running through Mingyu’s mind.

Unlocking new kinks is always confusing, but that’s not something you dwell on as you becon Mingyu to get onto the bed.

He lays down and you’re quick to grab his boxers, dragging them down in record speed.

Fuck, Mingyu’s huge- it makes you drool. “I want to suck him off,” you whimper.

Mingyu groans deeply. “Fuck.”

“You can do whatever you want,” Wonwoo coos as you get into position, on your knees, looking down at Mingyu’s massive cock. 

You grab the base, pumping it gently and looking up at Mingyu, who shifts desperately against the sheets.

He grabs the blanket, and you can tell he’s already close- you kind of love having this power over him. If the act of eating you out is enough to make him close to exploding- well, you wonder what sucking him off will do.

Two hands smooth across your ass, and then you feel Wonwoo’s cock swiping between your pussy lips. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Can you… can you put it in your mouth?”

“You better not cum down her throat without asking permission first,” Wonwoo warns.

“I won’t, fuck, I won’t,” Mingyu whimpers, guiding you gently to his cock.

You lick at the head of it first, getting a better gauge for his size.

Mingyu shakes beneath you, hips twitching. You can sense he’s at war with himself, part of him clearly wants to apply pressure to your head and force you to take him, but another part is trying to be respectful of you. You wonder if this clash between animalistic and human sides is a result of the recent full moon-

Wonwoo’s cock slips into your wet core and you groan deeply, sinking more of your mouth onto Mingyu, who echoes your sound of pleasure.

You begin to suck on the werewolf’s tip as Wonwoo starts to slowly thrust into you, giving you more and more of his cock until he’s flush to your ass.

“That’s it,” Wonwoo groans, grabbing your hips. “Taking us both so good.”

The praise makes your entire body vibrate with energy, and you moan around Mingyu’s cock, sucking him deeper into your mouth until he’s practically hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck-” Mingyu is straining now and you can feel it.

“Almost looks like boytoy is going to pop before he even gets a chance at your pussy,” Wonwoo chuckles.

“No!” Mingyu blurts, “I’ll be good, just, fuck, hurry up!”

Wonwoo might not be the nicest in bed, but you are, and you pull off Mingyu’s cock, stroking it. “Take some breaths,” you tell him, resting your cheek against his thigh.

Mingyu begins to take audible gasps as he focuses on slowing himself down. You stroke him languidly, taking your time as Wonwoo’s pace increases behind you.

“You’re too nice to him,” Wonwoo groans, gripping your hips harder as he rails into you.

“Fuck, one of us has to be,” you whimper, closing your eyes so you can focus on the pleasure that’s beginning to surge through you.

“This isn’t good cop bad cop,” Wonwoo points out.

“True, but I’m also not a sadistic dom like you are,” you fire back with a moan.

You hear Wonwoo chuckle. “I guess that’s true.”

He adjusts slightly, and now, each thrust has him hitting a spot deep inside of you. “Kind of want you to cum again,” Wonwoo admits. “Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t-”

“Three times isn’t that bad,” Wonwoo points out. “Besides, Mingyu’s going to pop the moment he’s inside of you, so it’s not like he’ll make you cum.”

That’s a very good point, you realize, and you slip your hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit.

Your pussy clenches tight around Wonwoo from the stimulus and you both groan. 

“That’s it,” Wonwoo breathes. “Squeezing me so well.”

Mingyu groans above you, Wonwoo’s dirty talk doing as much to turn him on as you.

“Rub harder,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told, whimpering from how good it feels. “Mingyu, tell her how good she is, the sooner she cums, the sooner you cum.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good!” Mingyu blurts out immediately. “Your mouth, your hand- fuck, I can’t imagine how your pussy is going to feel, oh my god-”

His hand flexes in the bed sheets and Wonwoo chuckles.

“Cum for us, please, I need to feel you,” Mingyu begs desperately. 

Your core is throbbing from his words, throbbing from how well Wonwoo is fucking you.

“She’s close,” the vampire muses. “Her perfect pussy is just sucking me right back in.”

Mingyu lets out a strangled sound, and the noise is enough to throw you over the edge.

Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters. 

Your core clamps down on Wonwoo’s cock, squeezing him desperately as your orgasm overcomes you.

Your hand motion on Mingyu’s cock stops, body too overcome by the feeling of cumming to pay attention to anything else.

Moans and whimpers escape you, your eyes clenched shut as waves of pleasure surge through your body. Wonwoo fucks you through it, and then he releases a small gasp, his thrusts coming to a stop. You can feel his cum filling you up as he gives three more shallow efforts of movement.

You’re both breathing hard, and before you can even fully recuperate, Mingyu’s tugging at you. “My turn,” he says desperately.

Wonwoo laughs, and you can only whimper as one cock pulls out of you. Mingyu is quick to drag you up his body, and then, his own length is entering your core, stretching out your pussy unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

You moan desperately, burying your face against Mingyu’s throat. 

“I’ve got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as he begins to fuck up into you. “Fuck, so good, shit-”

He’s definitely not going to last long, so you do your best to focus on how good he feels. You can’t even bring yourself to care that his chest is sticky and covered in your squirt, in fact, the sinful aspect kind of turns you on even more.

Your core is still throbbing from your orgasm with Wonwoo, and each time your pussy contracts around the new, large intrusion, Mingyu gasps. His breath is hot against your throat, arms strong around your body as he holds you, fucking up into you like a wild man.

“Shit, shit, shit-”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, nuzzling against his jaw. “You’ve been a good boy, let go.”

Mingyu releases a strangled sound, and then he’s squeezing you tight, filling your pussy completely as he cums deep inside of you.

It feels good in his embrace. You’re not being crushed, instead, it feels like a protective weighted blanket, and he’s so warm too- God, you could fall asleep right like this, right now, his massive cock still buried to the hilt in your wet, throbbing pussy.

Mingyu’s heart is racing in his chest, and you’re both breathing heavily, but slowly he releases you.

“Take her to the shower, I’ll clean this all up,” Wonwoo’s voice draws you out of your daze.

“Can’t we just sleep?” Mingyu groans.

“You werewolves and the most unclean people I’ve ever met,” Wonwoo snaps, and you feel Mingyu sink beneath you, dejected.

“Come on, Gyu, a shower would be nice,” you encourage him, pressing kisses against his throat.

“Okay,” Mingyu sighs.

He stands a moment later, cradling you in his arms as he takes you to the bathroom. The two of you begin to wash each other, careful of all the cum. He’s so soft with you, so gentle, and you’ve never been this relaxed.

When you’re both clean, you go back to your room, collapsing onto your bed. Wonwoo sits on one side of you, Mingyu on the other. The werewolf tugs you to his chest, being your big spoon while your hand is in Wonwoo’s lap.

“Sleep with us,” you urge him.

“I can’t, but you two should get some rest,” Wonwoo sighs.

You’re so exhausted you can’t even find it within yourself to argue, and moments later, you’re falling asleep, basking in the warmth of the man behind you, and the comfort of your vampire protector watching guard. 

Eight: 

Wonwoo’s thoughts are turbulent as you and Mingyu sleep next to him. The sex had been amazing, and shockingly enough, Wonwoo hadn’t quite minded having the werewolf there. It’s clear that Mingyu is good for you, and at the end of the day, your wellbeing trumps Wonwoo’s own possessive tendencies.

He’s not one to dwell on things, so Wonwoo reaches for the ancestral diary on your bedside table. It’s not a recipe or spell book, so you’ve not spent a lot of time going through it, but Wonwoo just need something to distract himself. 

It’s only hours later when Wonwoo comes across a specific passage that makes him stop. It’s the first mention of the Daylighter potion he’s seen anywhere, and he continues to read, eager for the recipe.

‘The potion was supposed to cure sun affliction, and it did, but the concoction did more than that. It cured the vampirism as a whole. My protector, my guardian, now but a man. Powerless as a babe, but as fierce as he’s ever been. No other vampire would want this, so I’ve torn out the page with the ingredients. This potion, perhaps, is best left in history. No one should have the power to cure vampirism, least of all the witches. This could shift the tides in a war that’s been lasting centuries. The witches should not have this power, nor should the wolves or the demons. No one should have this power. The Daylighter potion was a success, but it was also the worst thing I’ve ever created. May the Goddess forgive me for this abuse of power.’

Wonwoo rereads the passage five times before he puts the book aside, trying to steady himself.

This whole time- they’d assumed the potion would cure a vampire’s weakness to sun. No one ever considered that the Daylighter potion might cure vampirism all together.

Wonwoo had wanted the potion so he could protect you day or night, but how could he protect you if he was a mortal?

If he was a mortal… if he was like you and Mingyu, could he grow old with you?

But… what use would growing old with you be if he could never keep you safe?

Wonwoo’s overcome with emotion as he stares down at you and Mingyu.

This was never an outcome he’d expected, and he’s not sure how you’ll react. 

The vampire decides not to tell you about this information. He decides to simply be there for you as long as you want him. He decides to let you sleep, unburdened by the discovery he’s just made. And finally, Wonwoo decides that you are more important than him being a Daylighter. He’ll choose the eternal night with you over the sunshine, and it’s his own choice to make.

Wonwoo doesn’t know who he is if he’s not your protector, so he decides that’s exactly what he’ll continue to be.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love working on fics that center on these two, and It was so fun to write their dynamic :) Thanks again for supporting me this year, and I can't wait to see you guys in 2025!

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🔮 preview. You’ve learned new spells and potions, but your education in a more sexual nature has grown too. Being with two men has its own learning curve, and you’ve been a more than willing student.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, oral, pussy eating, spanking, praise, dirty talk, degradation, mentions of porn, threesome, pussy stretching, breast worship, overstim, multiple reader orgasms, etc…  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 120

🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been four months of living in a house full of books, but it’s been two months since Wonwoo revealed to you the truth about the Daylighter potion. 

It has been hard to accept at first, and many night had been spent discussing it with Wonwoo. Your vampire protector has stood firm on his opinions, and you’ve had to accept the fact that he wants to continue to be immortal, not only for you, but for himself.

Wonwoo isn’t the oldest vampire ever, but he’s by no means the youngest either. You can’t really imagine him going back to a human form, to lose his strength and speed- no, he’ll continue to be a vampire, and the Daylighter potion has been pushed aside, no longer a priority.

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[snail-day]

Everything is fine, really.

Sum: You’re moving. Starting a new life. Building a family. That’s what you keep telling everyone. What you keep telling yourself. Just sometimes, you hide the truth behind your words, don’t you? It's not like your relationship is a dumpster fire. Everything is fine, really.

Yandere! SatoSugu x Reader

WC: 3.7k

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Noncon/Dubcon, Power imbalance, Toxic Relationship Dynamics, Dehumanization (brief), Both are cult leaders, Heavy Angst, Dead Dove Do Not Eat. MDNI

There’s something surreal about leaving a place you once called your second home. You can’t help the soft smile tugging at your lips as you pack up your belongings from the sad little cubicle you once claimed as your own. Photos with coworkers, that are curling at the edges, a faint Polaroid here and there. A chipped dish from some forgotten potluck. A few dusty trinkets. Your stash of instant noodles tucked neatly into one of the dented metal drawers.

Change is good, at least that’s what you keep telling yourself. What Suguru keeps telling you. And he’s always right, isn’t he?

Though… why does it feel like dread is curling up in your lungs, breathing for you?

“We’re really going to miss you,” your friend murmurs, swirling her iced Americano, the clink of melting cubes loud in the silence that follows. “You know, people are worried about you. You just got into that relationship...”

Right.

A year ago, you started dating Suguru and Satoru. Time has felt slippery since then. 

“Well,” you laugh, light, dismissive, a little too forced. You can feel the weight of her eyes on your hands, watching the way your fingers pick at your sleeves. The same kind of look Shoko gave you the first time she met you — concern disguised as polite curiosity.

Is love really something to be concerned about?

“They just… love me,” you say, the words light, almost too soft. A breathy chuckle follows, barely convincing.

There’s a pause.

Just a flicker too long.

You feel the weight of her eyes narrowing, the silence pressing in.

“That’s all,” you add, quieter this time.

But who are you trying to convince — your friends or yourself?

Because even as you say it, something in your chest curls tight. And you wonder if love is supposed to feel like this. Suppose it’s supposed to hollow you out just to fit someone else's shape.

“You just finished your master’s,” she says, brows furrowed as she leans in, eyes sharp, slicing right through you. “You were going to research in the States. Publish. Become something.”

That one stings. Her words land like Satoru’s when he gets upset, cruel, even when they're coated in care. It's funny how the more you get to know people, the more they start to resemble each other. Maybe those personality tests were onto something after all.

You part your lips to respond, but your friend cuts you off.

Nothing new. It happens more at your main home than it ever did here.

“I mean, come on. None of your friends have even met them yet. You keep coming up with excuses — that they’re busy, that timing’s bad — ”

“They’re building a church,” you say with a shrug, careful to keep your tone light, dismissive. You don’t let the rest slip out.  

A church you’re not allowed to enter.

“They have their reasons. They’re just… homebodies, that’s all. Suguru can be a bit of a germophobe.”

Your friend huffs, something sharp, skeptical, half-muttered under her breath. Maybe it’s a complaint about religion. Maybe it’s the word cult. You don’t ask her to repeat it. It’s safer not to know some things.

So instead, you cling to the part that’s easiest to swallow: Suguru is a germophobe.

You’ve seen it, the way his serene face twists when he catches the scent of your job on your clothes. The way his voice drops, low and quiet, when he tells you you reek like them.

You still don’t know who them is.

Sometimes, when he thinks you’re not listening, he murmurs the word monkey.

You try to hug him. Like you used to after work. Before this shift in behavior.

He steps back.  His expression doesn’t change, not really. Just a small downturn of his mouth, a sigh through his nose. That look he gives when you disappoint him again.

Still, you tell yourself, at least his eyes are always kind. 

He loves you.

He just wants to keep the house clean. Safe. Protected from whatever it is he sees that you can’t.

He points. Wordless. The bathroom.

And you go. It’s easier to obey than to ask why.

The tub’s already filled by the time you get there, steam billowing into the air, curling against the mirror until your reflection vanishes.

You peel your clothes off slowly. Shirt first. Bra next. Then the skirt, tights, and frilly panties Satoru bought you last spring. Layer by layer until you’re bare and small beneath the bathroom light, spine curved, arms wrapped around your chest like that might keep something in.

The water smells like herbs. Bitter roots, crushed flowers, something sharp and metallic beneath it all. You wonder if this is what his sermons smell like. Or maybe its just medicinal.

You dip a foot in.

It burns.

And maybe that’s a blessing.

Because if your eyes water, if your lips tremble, if a quiet, broken sob tears out of your throat when you sink deeper into the tub — it’s just the heat. Just the scalding kiss of boiling water on fragile skin.

Not his words. Not the way Suguru wrinkled his nose when he said you reek like them. Not the muttered monkey you weren’t meant to hear. Or even the way he didn’t look at you as you stepped back into the house, just gestured vaguely like you were something to be fixed.

But once you’re clean — once you’re fixed — you get to be in his arms again. 

He’s kind again. 

He loves you again. 

You ease in, inch by inch, until the water laps at your collarbones. Until your knees curl toward your chest. Until your skin prickles and stings. Until your tears become indistinguishable from steam.

The water wraps around you tighter than he did.

The silence is softer than his praise ever sounds.

And you breathe in the incense like it might turn your lungs into something purer. Something less dirty. 

Something worthy enough for him. 

You stay in until your fingers prune, until your thighs burn red, until you can no longer tell if what’s rolling down your cheeks is bathwater or heartbreak.

The water’s gone lukewarm by the time the door opens with a quiet creak.

Suguru doesn’t say anything at first.

He just walks in, unhurried, dark sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms, a soft white towel folded over one arm before he kneels beside the tub, his long fingers testing the edge of the bath. 

Before a click of his tongue, “You stayed in too long again. You’ll get sick if you keep doing this.” 

You don’t say anything. You don’t look at him. You just let him drain the water with a pop of the plug, allowing the water swirl away with a hollow gurgle. Allow him help you up carefully.

The good thing is, now that you’re clean, you can lean against him, and he’s gracious enough to kiss your wet temple. 

He wraps the soft plush towel around you. Tucks it beneath your arms. Smooths his palm along your spine, which should be a soothing gesture. 

Another kiss. Softer. Warmer. Your throat tightens.

 A kiss like that used to make you smile, used to make you laugh, and lean more into him. 

“There,” he whispers, voice low and soothing, almost reverent. “All clean.”

You nod, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. Because if you speak, you might cry again, and this time it won’t be from the heat.

His arms slide around you tighter, chin resting on the top of your head. The scent of him — faint cologne, incense, something metallic — fills your nose.

“I love you,” he murmurs, soft as breath against your damp hair.

But it lands heavy.

Not like a declaration. Not like warmth.

It feels like a bandaid smoothed over a wound he didn’t bother cleaning first. A phrase meant to patch, to hush, to make you forget the sting.

You want to believe it. You always do.

But when he pulls away and takes your hand to lead you down the hallway — bare feet on cold tile, steam trailing in your wake — you wonder if he only says I love you when you’ve made yourself small enough to deserve it.

A light tap on your shoulder pulls you back. 

Right. You were living inside a memory again, and now you’re here, surrounded by friendly coworkers and the smell of the breakroom. 

You turn and meet the smile of a coworker, the kind of easy warmth you used to exchange freely. The kind that once made you laugh without checking who was watching.

The smile reminds you of him, of the early days with Satoru. When his jealousy was still quiet. When his touches were only tender. Before you were told that certain smiles belonged to him. That kindness was currency, and you were overspending.

So you lean back, subtly. Laugh too softly. Let the conversation flow around you without joining in.

You keep your eyes on your drink instead, how the cold foam slowly fades into the coffee, thick white threads curling into dark brown. Blending. Disappearing.

White like Satoru’s skin. 

Like his lashes when he blinks down at you. 

Like his knuckles when they dig into your hips, holding you in place as he pounds up into you with something closer to desperation than desire.

“Who was he?” Satoru snarled into your mouth, voice hot and fraying at the edges. Breath burning, words catching on the cusp between annoyance and desperation. “The guy you were smiling at.”

You watched his brows knit, his jaw tight. There was hurt swimming in those bright blue eyes, a sharp, wounded gleam behind the anger. His voice cracked, just barely, softening into something too fragile, too bitter. “That’s my smile.”

Your back arched on reflex, mouth falling open in a gasp that twisted before it could become protest. Before it could become no.

But he wasn’t listening.

Or maybe he was, just not in the way that mattered.

The head of his cock slammed deep — again and again — a brutal rhythm carved from obsession, not pleasure. Too cruel to confuse with intimacy. You could feel your cervix throb, the bruising pressure making your stomach turn. Bile clawed at the back of your throat as your fingers scrambled for purchase - on his shoulders, the sheets, anything that might save you.

“It hurts,” you tried to say.

But it came out as a moan. A strangled, trembling moan that sounded too much like a yes.

Because your body didn’t know how to protect you.

Because sometimes pain and pleasure braid themselves so tightly, you forget where one ends and the other begins.

You tried to shift your hips. Attempted to meet him halfway - to change the angle, to make the act bearable. But Satoru was stronger than you. He always was.

One of his hands clamped around your waist, holding you flush against him, unmoving. The other curled around your throat, thumb stroking slowly along your jaw. It should be a loving gesture, instead it caused you to crawl into yourself.

“Don’t,” he growled, voice shaking now, with something hungry and hurt. “Don’t you ever talk to him again.” His grip tightened. “You’re mine, okay?”

Then another thrust.  Deeper. Meaner.  His cock slammed into the softest part of you as punishment.  Your fingers dug into his bicep, nails raking down to the bone, but he didn’t flinch. Didn’t stop. He liked when you clung to him like that.  Blood bloomed in tiny crescents under your fingertips - small, red reminders of the shape your desperation takes.

Your vision blurred.

Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, slipping free one by one, rolling into your hairline. Your mouth was parted in a silent gasp, breath hitched, lungs straining under the weight of everything left unsaid.

A burst of white bloomed behind your eyes, pressure building until you shattered, climaxing with a silent, choking gasp. Humiliation curled in your chest like a second heartbeat.

You didn’t want it.

But your body gave in anyway.

That’s the worst part.

But Satoru — Satoru always crumbles after.

That’s the best part.

The moment his breathing evens out, he’s already tucking you into his chest, pressing trembling kisses to your tear-stricken cheeks, your hair, your shoulders. His hands shake as they glide over your back, tracing the fresh bruises he left behind.

You can feel it in his body — the regret.

You can see it in his eyes — bright blue and glassy, guilt already welling at the corners. Too much, too hard, too far — all unspoken, tucked beneath the desperate softness in his touch.

“I love you,” he breathes, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t mean it. I love you. I love you.”

And the tears in his voice feel like salvation. Like if he’s crying, then it must have been love.

He wraps you in the blanket, tucks you into the crook of his body, never allowing you to leave. 

Because it’s easier.

Because even when his hands are cruel, his embrace is always kind.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if that’s love or just the only kind you know how to hold onto.

A shift at the table. A nudge against your knee. The hiss of a soda can opening. 

“Really leaving us, huh?”

The voice cuts through your thoughts, pulling you back to the breakroom. One of your coworkers — grinning, oblivious — nudges your arm with a laugh. “Getting married, playing housewife? Man, never thought I’d see that coming from you,” he winks. “Sex must be that good, huh?”

Your friend slaps his arm before you can even blink, murmuring his name like a scolding. But even she leans in a little. 

And denial settles in like fog, like sugar on your tongue — sweet at first, then sickening. 

Don’t mention the cage.

Don’t mention the safe word being ignored.

Don’t cry.

Your throat tightens. Your vision wobbles at the edges. Smile. Smile.

“The sex is amazing,” you say, voice light, airy, like nothing is stuck behind your teeth. “I mean… two handsome men. What more could I ask for?”

They laugh. The table laughs. You look back down at your drink.

It is nice. Sometimes. When they’re gentle. When Satoru kisses every inch of you. Kissing beauty marks.  Kissing the love bites that Suguru loves to leave behind.  

When Suguru brushes your hair behind your ears and tells you you’re his good girl, gaze soft and adoring. When his touch his so soft as he cradles you in his arms and his thrusts are gentle. 

But.

Sometimes Suguru grips your jaw too hard, pries it open to stuff his thick cock so deep down your throat you feel it in your stomach. Until your jaw aches into the next day. Until the taste of him lingers on your tongue. No matter how much you scrub or swirl around the harshest mouthwash you could find. 

Nothing can erase the taste they leave behind. 

And when you inevitably gag — when you choke and the mess spills out of your mouth — he clicks his tongue and calls you ungrateful. And locks you in the dog crate.

The one under the desk, four doors down from their room. 

The one you thought was for a puppy.

“We already have you,” Suguru had cooed, stroking your cheek. You at the time thought he was teasing. 

Now. 

You don’t like the dog crate. Not when it’s cold. Not when it’s cramped. Not when you’re crying into your knees and they say it’s for your own good, cheek pressed against the metal bars slick with condensation. That obedience takes time. That love is earned.

Not when you’re tossed inside for something as simple as not moaning loud enough, not stretching wide enough to accommodate both of them. Not when your voice turns flat and numb and they whisper like it’s your fault they have to punish you.

It’s an awful feeling. Shrinking inside yourself. Folding in on something you once recognized.

Becoming smaller. 

Quieter. 

A voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts. 

Your friend speaks again, gently this time, almost hesitantly. “Are you sure you’re making the right decision?” Her voice is tentative, concerned. “We’re here to listen, you know. If things aren’t…”

Why does that question make your shoulders feel so heavy?

Why does the air feel thicker?

Why can’t you look up from your drink?

Why does it feel like something is wrapping around your chest — vines, maybe, or rope. Something sticky and invisible threading through your ribs, curling tight around your lungs.

You swallow. Hard.

Suguru would just say it’s anxiety.

Would ease you into his lap, let you rest your cheek on his thigh while his fingers play with your hair. He’d smile softly, whisper gentle reassurances, then press a little white pill past your lips with two fingers and praise you for swallowing so sweetly.

He’s kind. He is. You’re just focusing on the bad. You’re tired. It’s the stress. It's not —

“I’m doing what’s best for my family,” you say, your voice sticky-sweet, saccharine. “My future family, you know?”

You look up. Smile. That same old cheerful smile that used to be real. You used to be so positive. So bright.

So why do you keep caving in on yourself?

Why does every word feel like it’s screaming inside you? 

And you’re the only one pretending not to hear it?

You ignore the lingering eyes when you leave. Ignore the unbearable weight pressing into your shoulders, the subtle drag against your spine like something is slowly chaining itself to you. 

When you unlock the apartment door, the dim light spills over cardboard boxes — stacks of your life, half-packed and waiting for a future that doesn’t quite feel like yours.

The move is for Suguru. He’s always dreamed of countryside quiet, of temples and shrines and misty mornings. Satoru says he’ll miss the buzz of the city, but jokes that the mochi tastes better in the mountains — and besides, that’s where their true lives begin. You’re not sure what that means anymore.

You set down the box of office knick-knacks — photos, notes, a chipped coffee mug — hoping the weight leaves your body with it.

It doesn’t.

If anything, it feels tighter. A tension you can’t stretch out. Like something’s pulling at your ribs from the inside. Weaving itself into your breath.

You glance up at the security camera above the door.

No blinking red light.

They’re not watching right now. For once.

It feels like a small victory, one you don’t let yourself enjoy too much.

There’s a note on the dining table. “Be home tonight — takeout’s on the way for you <3” The heart is big and round. Satoru’s handwriting.  Underneath is a doodle — two smiling figures holding hands, a third one smaller between them. A family.

See? They can be sweet. They love you. They chose you.

You whisper that to yourself as you make your way to the bathroom.

Maybe you’re just tired. Maybe you’re coming down with something. You should really stop taking such long baths. Suguru is onto something with that. 

You barely manage to hold yourself up in the shower. The steam wraps around you like something alive, something watchful. It fills the room in thick waves, clinging to your skin until your limbs feel heavy. You brace yourself against the cool tile, hoping it’ll ground you.

It doesn’t.

It just makes it harder to breathe.

There’s a pull beneath your skin now — something deep, low, and slow. Not painful, not sharp. Just tightening. Like invisible cords wrapping themselves around your body, pressing inward. Like something ancient and hungry has started to bloom beneath your ribcage.

But it can’t be real. You’re just anxious.

Suguru says stress does this to people. That your nerves are delicate. That you need to rest more, stop overthinking. That you’re safer with them than anywhere else.

Maybe he’s right.

You dry off slowly, body trembling. Each step toward the bed feels heavier than the last, your heartbeat distant and muffled, like it’s echoing in a room far away.

You crawl under the blankets. They smell like them. Like Satoru’s cologne and Suguru’s temple incense. Like a home you’re trying so hard to love.

You nestle into the warmth, deeper, deeper, as if you bury yourself far enough, they’ll find you and say you did well. That you were good.

Your breath is slow now. Faint. Shallow. Your lungs are forgetting what to do.

You close your eyes and try to focus on the vision:

Satoru, stepping through the door with a grin, eyes bright, arms full of warmth. Kisses pressed to your face in quick succession — cheeks, nose, forehead — before gathering you into his arms. 

Suguru, following quietly. Murmuring praise as he peels back the covers, as he brushes the hair from your face, his fingers gentle, reverent. Humming that lullaby he always hums — the one you never quite learned the words to. Something from his childhood that he never talks about. 

They must be doing temple things.  Preparing the next step.  Building their new world - a world they haven’t let you see yet.  Suguru swears it will be better.  Purer.  Safe.

Maybe... If you close your eyes and surrender, you’ll be allowed inside. If you’re quiet. Still. Good.

You’ll wake up there. Worthy enough for them. 

But another part of you — the part that still aches in the silence, that tightens when they’re gone — knows the truth.

You’re not like them.

You’re not special.

 You don’t see what they see.

You were never meant to be more than a decoration. A docile thing. A trophy to polish and put back in the cage.

 Something pretty to keep.

And their heaven doesn’t open for people like you.

You curl tighter beneath the sheets.  Breathe shallow.  A broken sound catching in your throat — half a sob, half a pathetic laugh.

And then you go still. Drifting quietly into the dark,  as whatever has etched itself inside you finally begins to take hold. To consume you whole.

[moonchild9350]

Once Upon a Time My World Was Filled with You

summary: a boy and girl worlds collide and their lives are never the same.

pairing: hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: soulmates au, they are spies, fluff, suggestive-18+MDNI

wc: 4.8k

warnings: implied sex, pregnancy

notes: i love this photoshoot and that letter hyunjin wrote took my breath away and so this fic was born. i hope you enjoy it and if so let me know!

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2025)

general masterlist divider by @viviansturns

Your heart is full, the edges overflowing with love as your eyes roam the little ones scurrying around the room. Their laughter is shrill and loud and the sound of it makes you smile. You watch as the youngest drops her bunny and you hold your breath, waiting to see what she’ll do.

It’s suddenly quiet, so quiet you can hear ragged breathing, the little girl’s breath coming in short pants after running around. Your ears pick up the clang of glass from the kitchen, followed by the splash of water. Your eyes follow the youngest as she walks over to her bunny and bends down to pick it up, just to cradle it tightly to her chest.

You let out the breath you were holding and smile while clapping your hands.

“Alright darlings, time for bed!” Your demand is met with a chorus of whines and you chuckle as you watch the two girls slide into bed begrudgingly.

You tuck them in tight, sliding the blanket around their little bodies, making sure their stuffies are tucked in as well. Your daughters stare up at you with doe eyes and you chuckle knowing what’s next.

Your heart overflows with affection as you stare at your babies; well, they’re not quite babies anymore. Mila, the oldest at the age of seven, is full of energy and rambunctious. However, despite her firecracker ways, she has a soft heart just like your husband. Esme, the youngest is five going on fifteen, a complete opposite of her sister. She is sweet but sassy and is the leader of the pack despite her small frame.

Leaning over their little bodies, you press kisses to their foreheads as more giggles erupt from their mouths. “Goodnight darlings! Sleep tight...“ but your sentence is cut off by Mila.

“Mommy, can you tell us a story before bedtime? Please?” She juts out her bottom lip and flutters her eyelashes, a trick she’s definitely learned from her father.

“A story? Sure but just one tonight. What story would you like to hear?”

Mila and Esme share a look, one that confuses you but you’re sure they understand, their sibling brains in sync with each other.

“Tell us the story of how you met daddy,” Esme asks.

The story of when you met their dad? What a story that is. Images flicker through your brain at high speed and you smile at the memories, filled with two people in love. You gaze down at your daughters and push back their chocolate brown, curly hair. They are most definitely old enough to hear the story and it’s about time you tell them.

“Okay darlings, I’ll tell you the story of how daddy and I met. Get comfortable okay?”

They nod their heads and snuggle closer together, intent on listening to the story you’re about to tell.

“This is a story filled with secret spies and lots of action but also how a girl met a boy and how their worlds changed forever. This is the story of how I met your father, Hyunjin.”

You are exhausted and even that is an understatement. Your boss has been running you ragged and it’s made you irritated, so much so he doesn’t even look you in the eye anymore whenever he speaks to you. Smart man. Sighing, your fingers begin to fly across the keyboard, as you type up your report from your assignment today. You’re almost done and the thought of finally going home spurs you on.

You are a spy, one of gold rank at that. You’ve been in this profession for a little over five years now and at the age of twenty-five you’ve worked your way up the ranks quickly which is something you’re definitely proud of. Your job is a secret to your friends and family as you can’t really go around saying ‘hey guess what I’m a spy, isn’t that cool’ as you would most likely end up in an insane asylum.

After all, spies only exist in movies and books right? Wrong, just dead wrong. Spies do exist and they are your ordinary person on the street, someone you’d never expect. It’s thrilling blending in with society, yet trailing the most dangerous criminals, watching their every move to put together a timeline so you could take them out.

You love your job, but that thought leaves your mind as your boss walks into the office looking suspiciously chipper. You flinch as he claps loudly, attempting to get the attention of your colleagues.

“Everybody listen up! We have a new person added to the team.” He gestures behind him to the said person, beckoning them to make themselves known in this room full of people.

A man walks in, decked out in black jeans and a slim black shirt that hugs his frame perfectly. His arms are toned and you swear you can see his veins pop as he waves hello shyly. Well this is interesting you can’t help but think, a shy person in this field? Despite his demeanor you notice he’s drop dead gorgeous with large, chocolate brown eyes and soft, pink lips and a baby face outfitted with a dimple as he smiles to his audience.

Your boss nods in satisfaction and murmurs something to the new guy as the chatter resumes in the room as others get back to work. You let out a sigh and continue typing away, focused on getting home to your warm bed. You’re on your last section when a loud thud disturbs you causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Sorry, sorry!” The man next to you says with a panicked look.

“No worries,” you murmur as you realize it’s the new guy aka the handsome one. You take a whiff and all but moan at the smell rafting from the man. He smells of something woody but sweet and you want to smoother your face in his chest so you can sniff him to your heart's content. Flustered, you turn back to your laptop and continue typing.

“I’m uh, I’m Hyunjin. Looks like we’re on the same team.”

Pausing, you turn to look at Hyunjin. “Hi, I’m Y/n and yes it appears so.”

There’s an awkward silence as you both stare at each other, neither one of you wanting to look away first. Hyunjin seems to be checking you out as his eyes slowly drift down your body, taking in your appearance. He shoves his hands in his pockets for a moment and then decides against it, just to slide into his seat instead. Awkwardly, he scooches closer to you much to your chagrin and props his face on his hand.

“So, you’re absolutely gorgeous and I’d love to take you out one day, what do you say?”

You stare at Hyunjin incredulously. Where was the shy, awkward guy that said hello earlier? Smirking, you turned your body so you could see him better. “Oh wow, flirting already huh? On the first day of the job at that.”

Hyunjin chuckles and merely shrugs as he’s amused. “I usually get what I want and well…I want to take you out on a date. Just say yes.”

He stares you down with a look you can’t quite place, but it has your heart racing nonetheless. Hyunjin is bold and nonchalant, not even close to shy and reserved, and that thought makes your belly flutter. However, you are not easy and you definitely don’t go out with men you just met at work so you decide to have a little fun.

“No,” you reply simply, keeping his gaze as he narrows his eyes.

“No?”

“No.”

You all but smile as you stare at Hyunjin’s frustrated look. However, that feeling starts to fade as the man in front of you begins to pout, his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes downcast. You begin to feel nervous and you twiddle your thumbs as Hyunjin turns to face his empty desk.

Shit, you’ve hurt his feelings that much is obvious and you begin to feel bad. You are about to apologize when Jian from across the way beckons Hyunjin over, needing to speak with him about settling in with the company. Hyunjin nods and doesn’t give you another glance, but instead stands up and trudges over to your colleague.

You’ll have to apologize later, but until that time comes, you need to continue this report so you can get home. Focusing on your task, you type away and an hour later you press submit and shut your laptop with a satisfied sigh. Gathering your notebook and laptop, you shove it in your bag and get up to stretch. You let out a yawn before making your way out of the office. Your eyes are on your phone, set on ordering Thai food when you bump into something sturdy.

“Y/n! Are you okay?”

Large hands steady you as you look up into the eyes of none other than Hyunjin. He looks at you with concern and you can’t help but think how cute he looks, so much so your cheeks start to burn. You’re sure your face is red and the thought makes you feel embarrassed. Quickly, you readjust your bag and shake off Hyunjin’s hands.

“I’m okay…I should have been paying attention instead of making sure they don’t include peanuts in my dinner.”

Hyunjin laughs and the sound pleases your ears just right and you can’t help but join in. You clutch your phone tighter and shift your bag.

“Well, hopefully they won’t do so. I’d like to get to know you better after all.”

Oh he’s sly you think, smirking at his statement. “I’m gonna…” your words trail off as you motion towards the door.

“Yes, yes, sorry! Have a good night Y/n.” Hyunjin says as he steps out of your way.

You quickly hurry out of the office and make your way to the elevator. You feel eyes on you and you’re sure Hyunjin is watching you, however, you don’t look back to make sure. Instead you step into the receptacle and press the ground floor button, the thought of your couch and a warm bowl of food in the forefront of your mind.

“Hey Y/n, catch! Boss says we are needed on site today.”

Hyunjin’s deep voice rang in your ear and you closed your eyes at the disturbance. You let whatever he threw at you hit the floor, looking startled when a bunch of paper scattered across the floor.

“Shit!” Hyunjin shouted and raced over, quickly gathering the papers in his arms.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know they were papers.” You said, crouching down to help him. “But wait, paper doesn’t fly…so I’m actually not at fault.”

“Well I know that. But I remembered that after I threw them.”

You stared at the man in front of you, confused at his thought process. Nonetheless, you couldn’t stay confused for long and instead burst out laughing. “You’re crazy.”

Hyunjin merely shrugged and stood up, placing the unkempt pile of papers on your desk. “We have an assignment to go on…so um…let’s go.”

An assignment? You haven’t gone one with Hyunjin yet, even though he’s been at the agency for half a year now. He usually goes with one of your other colleagues on more simple assignments.

“Oh really? Well let me grab my bag,” you reply as you get ready to follow Hyunjin out the door. You scoop the papers up at the last second, thinking it had the details of the case listed.

Hyunjin led you to the parking garage and to a small sports car in which he slid into the drivers seat. He reached over to open your door and you slid in gratefully as your hands were full. Before you could even settle fully into the seat, the car took off and Hyunjin merged into traffic, somehow able to navigate the crowded streets with ease. You found yourself gripping the seat and pressing your foot down on an imaginary peddle as the car sped up. You were going to hurl so you decided to look at the documents Hyunjin gave you earlier and pray you get to the destination soon.

“The case is detailed in there, everything you need to know. We need to scope this guy out and then get out of there unseen.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, eyeing the profile of your target. It seems like you would be tailing a successful business man who specialized in money laundering and you shook your head in disgust. He didn’t seem very kind and instead seemed to be one that walks over those less fortunate than him, a trait you despised greatly. Oh he was not going to get away with his crimes, not if you had anything to say about it.

“This guy is a total pig,” you scoffed, slamming the papers down onto your thighs.

“He is, but we’re going to help put him away, rest assured.”

At that moment, Hyunjin pulled over and smoothly backed into a parking spot on the side of the road. He killed the engine and then turned to face you, “Let’s do this eh partner?”

He flashed you a smile, his eyes scrunching up and dimples showing, and you couldn’t help but smile back at his cuteness.

“Let’s do this.”

It was a scorcher of a day and you felt sweat bead your brow not even a minute into stepping onto the sidewalk. Wiping your forehead, you joined Hyunjin on the sidewalk, both of you exchanging silent glances before going your separate ways. Hyunjin was to stake out the man’s office building while you tailed his every movement. It didn’t take long until your target appeared, carrying an iced coffee in one hand and yelling away on his cellphone.

Bingo you thought and sprang into action, following behind him but at a safe distance. With sunglasses perched on your face, blocking the sun, you listened to the click clack of his shoes on the pavement as he made his way to his destination, which should have been to the Leon building for a meeting with the most notorious mobster of the city. More proof that this was a horrible man, someone who needs to be behind bars for all eternity.

Finally, he approached the building and you allowed him to go in and you take up station across the street in eyesight of the front door. Settling in, you pulled out your phone to see if you received any updates from Hyunjin. He sent you one message, stating everything was all clear on his end and you responded with a thumbs up. With a heavy sigh, you sat back, appreciating the bit of shade that blanketed your body, allowing the cool breeze to flow and cool you off.

Hours passed and your target still hadn’t surfaced from the building and you began to feel uneasy. What if he found out you were tailing him and he went out a different way? But that couldn’t be the case because Hyunjin is watching the entrances, ensuring that he doesn’t stray from his normal path. Just when you were about to shoot a message to Hyunjin, the man walked outside, pausing briefly as he considered where to go next.

You watched as he shifted a bag on his shoulder and then made a left. Wait, why is he going left? He’s supposed to go the other way in order to meet up with his wife for lunch. Something seemed amiss and you quickly pondered what to do. Deciding to follow him, you pushed away from the wall you were sitting on and followed your target.

With each step, you felt your stomach clench as a feeling of unease settled in. Your gut was telling you to stop, turn back and go to Hyunjin, but you couldn’t lose the target. The man continued to walk straight on at an odd pace, one that was not too fast but not too slow until he came to a dead end and stopped. You abruptly halted in place and quickly hid behind a pillar, you breath fanning across the wall nice and hot.

“Come out and everything will be alright,” the man said in an alarmingly calm voice, one that made your swallow and close your eyes, praying that he was talking to someone else and not you.

You stood in place, not daring to move or even breathe for that matter. Seconds passed and then minutes, neither you nor the man saying anything. You couldn’t even reach in your pocket for your phone and you hoped Hyunjin would notice something was amiss when you didn’t check in at the assigned time.

“I won’t ask again, come out and show yourself!”

Inhaling through your nose and out through your mouth, you steeled yourself before deciding to reveal your hiding spot, that is until you heard a voice coming from the other direction in which you came.

“Clara? Clara, where are you love?”

That sounded like Hyunjin, but why was he calling that name? That definitely wasn’t your name.

“Clara? Love?”

And then it clicked. You let a smile grace your face before letting it drop and stepping onto the sidewalk. “Darling? Oh! It is you! I got lost,” you said as you ran into Hyunjin’s arms, resting in his warm embrace and your cheek pressed against his chest.

“Oh my love, I’m so glad I found you. Let’s go home yeah?”

You nuzzled your head further into his chest and breathed in his scent as a rush of calm enveloped your body. You oddly felt safe in Hyunjin’s arms, protected against the man who stood behind you, staring and watching the scene unfold. Your fingers clutched his shirt tighter and your breath caught as he squeezed you tighter and then dropped his arms, opting to grab your hand instead.

Hyunjin dragged you away, back in the direction you came. “We will go home now, okay? You must be tired my love.”

You merely nodded and grasped his hand tighter, matching his long strides with ease. He didn’t say anything more until you arrived at the car and was safely inside, buckled, and on the road back to headquarters. The ride was silent and you found your hands shaking after your close encounter with your target.

Sensing your discomfort, Hyunjin gently placed a hand on your knee and rubbed soft circles on your skin all while continuing to focus on the road. He didn’t say anything but you didn’t mind, the feel of his hand on your skin grounding you after the scary ordeal.

You could feel the atmosphere change as an unspoken vow was made, that he would be there for you no matter what, no matter where, and that was a thought that made you smile. Hyunjin sealed the deal with a squeeze of your knee and the car sped up, taking you both back to the safety of headquarters.

“Y/n, look alive ten o’clock.”

You took a sip of your drink and eyed the area by the door, taking notice of a beautiful woman dressed in ballroom garb waltz into the room with a pompous air. Ah, the woman of the night.

“Don’t worry, you’re more beautiful than her. Did I tell you that dress looks stunning on you?”

It took everything in you not to react to Hyunjin’s words, his husky voice echoing in your ear as the music played. Instead, your eyes roam the ballroom and they land on your partner who’s leaning nonchalantly against the wall, a champagne flute in his hand. If you focus, you can just make out a smirk before he raises the glass to his lips to take a sip.

“Smooth Hyun,” you reply before moving towards your target. Your dress rustles as you maneuver around the guests and your eyes lock in on your target. You know Hyunjin is watching, taking in your every move and the thought makes you blush.

“So beautiful Y/n,” he murmurs into your earpiece, soft and sultry like he does it when you both have a moment alone at work or in passing. It’s been a few months since he rescued you and ever since he’s been by your side, leaving you sneaky presents and sweet words that go straight to your head and heart. The issue is your job, you both can’t be seen together especially as a couple as that would jeopardize your positions.

The thought makes you sad but you make sure not to focus on it, instead to excel at your job in every way. All that to say, you do welcome the added flirty comments or two, loving how Hyunjin’s eyes sparkle as he talks to you, brushes a finger against your cheek when no one is looking.

One, Two, Three, Four you count in your head until you are right on the lady, so close you can smell her perfume, a mixture of peonies and musk. Just like boss told me to do.

Your hand reaches out to the lady’s dress and you accidentally bump into her, brushing the palm of your hand against her waist in an attempt to steady yourself. She turns to look at you with fury and you’re quick to raise your hands in surrender.

“I’m so sorry, clumsy me,” you say with a chuckle and walk away through the wide French doors and into the crisp night air. Without a glance back, you walk with purpose towards the front drive, your heels click clacking against the concrete until you arrive next to a long stretch black limousine.

“Finite” you murmur, knowing Hyunjin would have heard you easily. You slide into the car and let out a breath as you relax into the seat.

“Where to miss?” The driver asks and you reply with a simple “Revealer Hotel please.”

Without another word, the car pulls out of its space and merges seamlessly into the road. It isn’t long until you arrive at the place you’ll be staying and you’re ushered out by the driver. Silently, you make your way into the building and down the hall until you arrive at an ornate elevator. It takes you to a few floors higher and you exit, the thought of your bed on the forefront of your mind.

Your room is there in front of you and you wave your keycard over the sensor, smiling at the little chime it gives off at being successfully unlocked. Stepping into your room, you gently close the door and slip off your heels, just to feel a set of warm hands drift down your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Good job my love,” the voice behind you cooes and you turn around the face Hyunjin who is still decked out in his party clothes.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” you murmur as you push him further into the room.

Hyunjin chuckles and allows his jacket to slip off his broad shoulders and it falls to the ground softly and is quickly forgotten as you slip out of your dress. You watch as his eyes lock in on your figure and he licks his lips in anticipation as to what’s to come.

You love these moments with Hyunjin, where it’s just the two of you. Two souls destined to explore each other, to pry into each other’s lives just to merge into one. Your heart beats for him just like his heart beats for you.

The sounds of nightlife tickle your ears the same time as soft gasps and sighs float through the room. Your fingers draw designs, carefully, delicately, marking Hyunjin as yours just as his lips brush against your skin creating patterns that only he can do. Your eyes close as you listen to the litany of ‘I love you’ from your partner, the man who’s entered your life and stood by your side unexpectedly for the last year.

Your soulmate.

It’s a beautiful symphony, the orchestra has come together both man and woman. The music rises to a crescendo until it ends with a triumphant bang and at that moment, tears fall down your face as your hands reach for Hyunjin, landing softly against his cheeks that are flushed a beautiful shade of pink.

You breathe slowly, deeply, as he kisses your tears away, his breath mingling with yours as you settle deeper into the pillows, letting all of your fears wash away within Hyunjin’s arms. The earth continues to spin and the world moves on uninterrupted, but in this little sanctuary the two of you have created, time has stood still.

”You are my heart, my love, my life.

A simple phrase that has stopped your beating heart and restarted it anew. It’s a vow of new beginnings, new experiences and that is something you welcome with open arms and mind as long as it’s by Hyunjin’s side.

“Aww we are so sad to see you go Y/n!”

You smile politely and embrace your coworker as she helps you pack your desk. You are leaving your job as life has changed drastically and your duties may be a little difficult to complete in your current state.

“I’m sad to go to Serena but life has other plans,” you chuckle as your hand gently rubs the small bump of your belly.

You are expecting, just entering your second trimester and you couldn’t be more happy. You place a picture frame of you and the team in the box just as Hyunjin stops by, a wide smile on his face. Serena looks at Hyunjin with a smirk and teases him by gently shoving him in the shoulder.

“It’s your fault you know.”

Both you and Hyunjin chuckle not denying the claim. Instead, Hyunjin wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to your side.

“Well, what can I say, we just go together like pork belly and rice!”

You and Serena just stare at Hyunjin with an incredulous look. “Really? You dork,” you tease with a shake of your head.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, but then laughs as he helps the two of you pack up your desk.

Shortly after, you place the lid over the box and sigh. That’s it you think and you take a moment to scan the office, the place you’ve called home for years. Hyunjin makes his way over and gently places a hand on your shoulder, “Ready?”

You take another moment to soak it all in and your hand absentmindedly drifts to your belly. You are definitely ready, ready to begin this life of motherhood but also with Hyunjin. You are thankful for this job, after all, it’s how you met him so you can’t really complain.

But as one door opens, another closes and a new adventure begins. You pick up your box and make your way to the front door, walking through it with purpose.

Here’s to the future, here’s to your new life with Hyunjin.

“And that’s it! That’s how I met your father girls.”

Mila and Esme are silent for a moment, pondering the story you just told them, their little faces scrunched up in deep thought.

“So the baby was in your belly was me?” Mila asks, staring at you with doe eyes, her gaze so much like Hyunjin’s.

“Mmhmm, that was you,” you reply with a smile.

“What about me mommy? Where was I?” Esme asks with a frown as she rubs the ear of her bunny.

“Well you weren’t born yet lovie. Remember? Mila was born first and then a few years later we welcomed you.”

Esme deems this a satisfactory response and snuggles deeper into the blankets.

You brush the hair off of their faces and press a kiss on their foreheads, both girls erupting in a fit of giggles.

“Goodnight my lovies, I love you.” You walk to the door and are met by Hyunjin who peeks his head into the room.

“I love you too girls!” He says as he grabs your hand in his.

“Love you mommy and daddy!”

You smile at their sweet voices and turn out the light before closing the door with a soft click.

“They wanted to hear our story?” Hyunjin inquires as he grasps your hand tighter in his and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

“Mmhmm, I figured it was time they knew.”

Hyunjin hums and pulls you toward your bedroom. “What a story it is.”

You chuckle and enter the spacious room, “That it is love, that it is.”

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @amarecerasus @ivydoesit23 @slut4hee @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek @skzdreamer13 @lezleeferguson-120 @hwangjoanna @hyunjincanraptoo

[supercutszns]

Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸

fighting chance; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader

synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.

warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3

notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!

You’re not much of a fighter.

That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Unless you’re a child of Ares.

People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.

Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.

There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.

The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.

He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.

He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.

The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.

“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.

“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”

“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.

You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.

He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”

“Confer?”

“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”

A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.

“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”

It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?

“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.

He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”

“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.

You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”

His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.

“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”

It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.

The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.

You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”

You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.

“All good?” He asks gently.

It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”

Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.

“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.

He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.

“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”

Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.

“And you’ve always got our flag.”

You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.

He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.

There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.

Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.

The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.

Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”

“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”

“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.

Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.

“Luke—”

“I’ll find her!”

He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.

He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.

It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.

“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”

The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.

“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.

You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”

“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”

The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.

Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.

You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.

The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.

“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”

Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.

Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.

Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.

The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.

Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.

And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.

“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.

The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.

“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”

“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”

“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.

“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”

“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.

“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”

It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.

The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”

Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”

He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.

Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.

“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”

Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.

The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”

“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”

He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”

You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.

You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”

You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”

“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”

“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”

You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.

Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”

“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”

You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.

“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”

The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.

“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.

“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”

“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”

“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.

You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”

It makes you smile. “So second-best?”

“Tied for first.”

He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.

“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”

“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”

You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.

Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.

“Don’t care,” Luke says.

You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”

You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.

You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.

[navydoves]

Blood Bag — Chapter 1

"Shh, drink." ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

✎ᝰ. summary. you’re a vampire, you need blood. sylus is the most powerful man on this side of the planet. he has what you need. ✎ᝰ. cw. you’re a vampire/sylus is a human, yearning sylus, depressed sylus, lonely sylus, luke and kieran are side characters, not unrequited but maybe a little, ANGSTY, erotica, lots of pining here bro, sylus will get more pathetic as the chapters go on TBH

✎ᝰ. wc. 9.7k ✎ᝰ. a/n. alright this is gonna be a several part series (nothing over like 3 or 4), because this baby is heavy packed with story. the story is told in sylus’s pov and this first chapter is a lot of character building for sylus. some things are written in-between the lines here and it’s something you’ll just have to figure out as you read more.

also apparently i have a tag list of one? woaahh, crazyyyy.

@phisen hey girl whats up

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ to be in power means to wear the crown of the wind - ruling unseen, yet felt everywhere. there is a jurisdiction through those in power; created by them, and mandated by their people. with great power comes great responsibility, but with great power comes great reward as well. some sovereignties relish in riches or authority because that was the reward of power. owning, succeeding. other sovereignties revered obedience and the autocratic nature of their title, because that too was the reward of power. authoritative, commanding. the only reason empires fall, and people scatter is because their sovereignties could not hold up the weight of their responsibilities. it is the well-established, deliberate ones that have continuous reign. but we live in a world filled of trade-offs; so, while reckless sovereignties get to be reckless because their trade-offs are rebellion and destruction, what do the sensible sovereignties get? loneliness. loneliness is their trade off. the most revered sovereignties are only that because they are the most sound and practical. they pay for longevity with isolation, and not by choice, no, but by necessity. trust is earned. happiness is earned. in order to stand today where he does today, the standing sovereignty of onychinus has lived by this philosophy for centuries. besides his two (rather immature) underlings that have pledged their loyalties to him, there is no other soul that has taken up space in his life. sylus was all too venerated as a leader to care about abundance anymore. every trade was always carefully scrutinized by him to ensure that he and his organization received complete satisfaction; but the only deal sylus has never acknowledged is the deal he made trading his heart for his position. since the first day of creating onychinus, he unknowingly sold off the heart once given to him for the reason of structure, for protection. protection was now evermore a necessity than before, though. while threats of danger always loomed in the empire that was the n109 zone, the recent outbreak within neighboring empires was causing tension. the n109 zone was strictly regulated and monitored as per onychinus's rule, so they barely even felt a scratch from the epidemic, but that was all the more reason to invade them. originating from a lost civilization called linkon, the outbreak was said to also have vanished to time. as their empire fell so too their people and the horrifying disease they carried with them. horrifying by today's standards, that is. what was formerly called their "disease" is now more modernly known as vampirism. vampires weren't creatures, no, as they stemmed from humans and could also carry human genetics - but they weren't human enough to be considered normal. back when their first began as a sub-gene (or "subspecies") of humans, they were accepted rather easily into normal civilization. differences were put aside for the sake of community building as "sovereignties" and "empires" didn't exist as we know them today. but as the saying goes, "one bad apple spoils the bunch." veering off the animal supply stashes the vampires kept stored within their solitary caves, a few rogue vampires decided that the next best thing to animal blood was human blood. it was a very practical thought - humans were much more well-nourished and they had more blood to take. surely, their blood was better than pig's blood. surely, the one or two humans that would be sacrificed would understand that this is for hunger. and surely, their communities would understand that they were doing justice to the greater good. and surely enough, it did not end well. the incident in which vampires betrayed the hospitality shared between them and humans for the sake of blood was dubbed "the first bite." at the time, no one had no way of knowing it - but the bite of a vampire wouldn't take a life; rather, it would alter whoever was bitten to turn into a vampire as well. when this revelation was made, things were more than "not well", they were catastrophic.

the details of it are spared now in history books, but the way of the word says that for the better part of the eon there was enough bloodshed to coat forests red.

in the end humans won was what essentially a war with their biggest ally being the sun. most vampires were innocent in any betrayal, but the frenzied attacks that came after the first bite were targeted at the entire sub-gene of vampires, causing panic and retaliation. an unfortunate set of circumstances, really, but since their supposed extinction their existence was only to the world through tales. a cornerstone story of betrayal and human triumph.

that was until now, though.

it was only a few decades ago that a new surge of vampiric traits emerged untraceably in humans. the sun was scalding to their skin, their complexions ghostly and gaunt, their bodies rejecting normal meals. this rise was declared a state of sovereign emergency and due to mistrust and anxiety welling within people, this was where tensions between empires began.

n109, being the biggest trader and distributor of modern weapons and protective gear, were in high demand. the issue was, sylus was not a man who was willing to bargain that easily with other empires even for the sake of an outbreak. what about him and the people he took care of? even if these people are criminals, mobsters, drug dealers, outcasts of society, they were still established in his area. to put into simple terms, sylus was and is a hardass. he could be called greedy and intransigent by as many news outlets as the world wanted, but he was stern and consistent in his ways. which is why he is the sensible sovereign others cannot be.

he gave up his heart for this position. he gave up half his soul to be where he is. and he'll be damned if he loses it all once again. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ "boss says no, sorry!" luke chirps from behind his mask. he gives the merchant a small shrug, completely resigned in his words.

"nothing we can do it about it!" kieran chirps in the same tone. the merchant in front of them furrows his brows together in clear disdain. the impatient expression that he wore on his face for the past two hours only evolved into a newfound emotion of anger that threatened to burst. the twins exchange a knowing glance at each other but then quickly refocus their attention onto the greying, tall old man in front of them. "why not?" the merchant asks with restrained tension in his voice. the binders of death reports and files he's lugged over city lines for the simple purpose of showing the head of onychinus were now useless. "do you understand what you're denying right now? it's aid! it's humanitarian assistance! what gives anyone the right to deny people life?" the twins exchange another glance. "we aren't denying anything, sir" kieran responds amusedly while flicking his finger back and forth between him and luke. "we are simply the boss's messengers. nothing we can do about it." "yeah, yeah," luke agrees while crossing his arms, "don't go being all bitch-y to us. take it up with the boss." the merchant clenches his fists until his knuckles turn visibly white. the anger was almost a little humorous to the twins, but they kept their faces in check - even with the crow masks on. "how the hell am i supposed to take it up with him if he won't even see me?! why doesn't he bless negotiators with his presence especially after we've gone through days of his intensive security procedures? is he mad?" kieran stifles a laugh so luke decides to answer for him. "don't take it so personally. boss doesn't er... 'bless' people with his presence if he doesn't believe the conversation is worth his time. you're the fourth outlander this month with a proposition about weapon trading for the outbreak. guess what boss said the other three times? i think you have a good idea." "and so how exactly are us smaller states supposed to acquire artillery to fend off these vicious vampires?! the n109 zone has more than enough weaponry to go around without becoming insufficient themselves." "how would you know that?" kieran asks suddenly, his giggles gone in an instant. luke tilts his head at the merchant and shakes it in displeasure. "you're very bold to assume the business of the n109 zone, especially when the case files you've brought us clearly skew the deaths in your area. the elderly dying of regular, human sicknesses is not an issue. yet many of the death files you've brought make it sound like the 'sickness' was vampirism. you can't half-truth your way into a conversation with boss." the merchant shakes his head rapidly and clutches onto the binder of cases. he flips it open and swipes through the papers with haste, determined to explain and prove himself to the twins for the sake of his dignity. "you don't understand, of course you don't! you haven't read the files fully! the elderly-" "nope," luke interjects, "we're not here for a debate. like we said, boss gave orders and we're relaying them. when boss says no, you take a leave." he pats kieran on the back once with a small laugh, an indication telling the brother he had to get the guards this time. kieran sighs softly and steps aside for a moment while luke continues his argument with the merchant. he clears his throat, steps into position, and flails his arms while making cawing sounds to the air.

the immediate embarrassment that flooded kieran was almost enough to make him stop but the incoming of mechanical birds hidden away in the corners of the estate told him he did enough. the birds swooped in and pinched the various corners of the merchant's clothes before dragging him away with disgusting strength. "w..what's happening? get these birds off of me!" he yells while scrambling to catch his flying papers. the twins simply watch the scene with a bit of awe in their gaze. the snail trail of reports falling from the binders, the panicking merchant that were glad was finally out of their hair, and the mechanical crows all flying and pulling in uniform fashion. they giggled. "see? i told you our training on the birds worked," luke cheesed while nudging kieran, "they know our calls now, we're like crow papas to them." kieran stares at his twin for a moment and just very subtly shakes his head in disbelief. "you're weird." "you too, crow head."

"look at what you're also wearing on your head right now." "hey... no bickering! boss wants us to report back to him soon. let's get the crows to pick up and throw away the papers." kieran sighs in surrender and nods. it didn't take long for the mechanical bird army to come flying back from around the corner and into the common room the merchant waited in. with a few more embarassming squawks from the twins, the birds begin picking up the left-over, tattered piece of papers that had clearly gone through a lot from the journey to the n109 zone. "hey luke," kieran mumbles while tidying up the papers on the long, matte-coloured table nearby. "maybe we shouldn't throw these out? boss didn't get to see most of what that guy brought. it might be good if we bring it to him." luke stands straight and tilts his head. "why's that?" "well if these are legitimate death files from states that are suffering from vampirism, then it'd be good private intel for boss to examine. maybe it'd help him gain more... yknow... intimate insight on what's happening beyond the n109. not just bullshit TV news and all that hargon-jargon." "i mean..." luke murmurs while scratching the side of his mask. it wasn't like sylus to give time of day to outsider intel. he preferred getting it his own way, impractical or not. but death reports were a new one. "if he doesn't want them then he can just throw them out. no harm no foul?" kieran nods in agreement and turns back to the papers in hand. time to go find boss.

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"come in," sylus murmurs while not sparing the door of his office a glance. his eyes were trained on the case of guns that was sat up on his desk. he takes a long sip of his herbal tea while tracing his fingers over the cool metal that shaped each ridge of his babies. but his attention was quickly stolen away though, as the noise of ruffling of papers emerged through the door.

"hey boss," kieran greets first while holding the door open for his brother. they both had a handful of messy, floppy papers in their hands that almost threatened to slip out of their order again. sylus quirks a brow as the twins set down the papers causally beside his gun case and step back. "what is this?" he asks with a neutral yet slightly annoyed tone. he slowly closes the gun case and looks up at the twins with a boring expression. he looked exhausted, almost. "death reports from the merchant that came in earlier," luke chuckles nervously, "he dropped a few pages as he left, and we thought you might like to see them." sylus furrows his brows slightly but not out of annoyance. this wasn't like the twins, to bring him something from the negotiators that popped in and out of his estate. "why? didn't i tell you two to dismiss him? why do i need his papers?" "well you don't need the papers," kieran adds on, "but we've never received death reports from any state or empire up until now. it's like an inside look on the effects of vampirism going on. we know you're old boss, but you're not old enough to remember the first vampires, right?"

sylus crosses his arms and looks to the side briefly. "no," he simply answers. "how do you know these aren't faked in some way? or completely illegitimate? what if they're from some other empire that isn't that merchant's place of origin?" the twins look at each other and shrug. kieran speaks up first. “well we don’t. we know some of them are but the rest looked real when we went through them.”

luke follows up. “look boss, you don’t have to give it a second thought if you don’t want to. you look pretty tired anyway, have you been getting any sleep?”

kieran stands on his tippy toes to peer over sylus’s desk. a wave of gratitude washes over him as his eyes catch a glimpse of the familiar green liquid in sylus’s cup. “hey, you’re drinking the herbals we gave you. they’re good aren’t they? you’ve been needing something to calm you down, boss.”

sylus glances over to the steaming mug on the edge of his desk. with slight hesitation he picks it up and brings it to his lips for a small sip. the twins watch him quietly, almost in awe that sylus was actually enjoying something they suggested. the cup finds its way back onto the desk as sylus picks up the reports right next to them. he heedlessly flips through them, eyes scanning every few words on every other page but not fully registering any of the contents. with a sigh, he throws them back onto his desk and waves his hand.

"this is an afterthought to all the weapon modifications and security checks we're running right now. these fucking… vampires - they're making my job harder than it needs to be. and now i have people coming in and out the n109 zone like it's a game of hopscotch, begging for my mercy like im some sort of fucking saint." sylus squints his eyes and bares his teeth in frustration. the empire, the organization he built up from the ground wasn't charity - even in times of crisis.

all these people were cruel. a life so distant to him now still prominently held the ache of rejection in his chest. why does he have to help them? who helps sylus now?

sensing the frustration and indignation welling up in sylus, the twins quickly step forward and snatch the reports off the desk to put on a side table, away from sylus's immediate gaze. "boss, hey, hey, take a deep breath," luke coos, "you're so tense today, is everything alright? when was the last time you slept?"

kieran glances between his brother and sylus and frowns behind his mask. "it's been more than today, you've been at your wits' end for a long while now, boss. we can't remember the last time you… you weren't…" kieran trails off, feeling as if he were over-stepping in his words. he steps back as a subtle sign of submission, but sylus notices the sudden tension between his underlings. he sighs and thuds back onto his desk chair. his head was buried in the large palms of his hands as an exasperated groan left his lips.

"look… it's not something the two of you could understand unless you were in my position," sylus murmurs into his palms. he pulls away from his hands and lays back in his chair, arms tense on their respective rests. "don't go worrying about me when you both have your own responsibilities to adhere to. the n109 zone, onychinus, me, i wouldn't have lived this far if i wasn't okay enough. you two are naive to these feelings. you have your youth, each other, and aren't constantly endangered by your line of work. i make sure of that."

"and you have none of that?" luke mumbles rather somberly, his head tilted down to the floor.

"of course not," sylus replies, "you two have known me long enough to know that. now -, " sylus stands to full height from his chair and briefly looks at the twins before focusing elsewhere. the obvious dejection in their postures made him feel bad, but knowing it was because of him made him feel worse. yet for some reason, an apology, explanation, or anything of the sort couldn't come out of his mouth to reassure them." - i'll need you two to leave. i need some time to myself. have the guards initiate lockdown and get ready for bed. the estate should be quiet."

the twins don't bother picking up their heads and simply nod at sylus's words. luke leads out and kieran follows him through the office door. the tense air they were just suffocated in stalked them even through the corridors of the estate, far from where sylus was. as they pressed for an elevator to descend, kieran turns to luke and lets out a small noise to get his attention. "what do you think?" he asks rather neturally.

luke returns kieran's gaze and takes a moment. "i think boss is depressed."

not long after the twins left his isolated office, sylus returns to work inspecting the weapons on his desk. they were placed so gently in their matte-case after their polishing and refinement, which scratched an itch in sylus's perfectionist brain. these were new prototypes that underwent intensive scrutiny before landing in sylus's hands.

the only difference about these prototypes was that they weren't regular technological maintenances on older weaponry; but rather, modifications made on the best artillery within onychinus. this case of guns were only scrap pieces of what was currently in network within his bases. and this was what other nations were at the door begging him for. weapons made specifically to fend off vampires. alloyed in the coldest type of steel, onychinus' series of vampiric artillery was nothing short of effective as they were nothing short of perfection.

sylus slowly grazes the edges of his guns with his fingertips, reveling in the sleek feel of them before picking up the smaller of the three. he holds it up, points the gun at the end of the room and stills in his stance. the gun was snug in his palm and surged power through sylus's veins. it felt good, it felt more than good. he produced perfection again and that accomplishment was especially honorable when knowing that the rest of the world was in trying times while he, he was succeeding. a brief but telling smirk tugs at sylus's lips. he relaxes and puts the gun back in its mold in the case. while closing the top of the case, his eyes flit to the side to the scattered reports on his side table. he should really get rid of those, he thinks. they're a ridiculous eyesore, he thinks. something as inevitable as death shouldn't be used as a guilty-trip, he thinks. but his hands betray his thoughts as they reach out to the discarded pile. in a similar fashion to earlier, sylus skims through the papers with mild interest and moderate annoyance. he wasn't sure why he felt a boiling upset in him whenever he was reminded of the outside world, but his cryptic mental problems were of no use to figure out when he had real-world problems. the pile almost reached its end when sylus's attention was piqued by something ... familiar? he wasn't sure what exactly was familiar about this report. it wasn't the name, nor the date and place of birth. it wasn't the occupation nor address; nor was it the reason and specifications of death. it actually wasn't any personal details of this person, he noted, but rather something more tangible. their face. her face. sylus bores his eyes at the rectangular photo of the woman on the top left of the report. he isn't sure if he's ever seen her before, but no other face in the reports had warranted a reaction from him like this. his eyes scan over the full document once more before narrowing at the place of birth. philos. if there was one nation sylus hated with vigor it was philos. hate was a strong word for him. even to his mortal enemies he wouldn't say he hated them - more like pitied them for their passion of hating him. philos was the only exception from this moral code of hate, though, as the birthplace of sylus's hate was from philos itself.

he quelled his anger quickly and focused back on the woman’s face. what was it about her that provoked his interest and why did the fact she was from philos leave him unsettled? the questions floating around in his head were suddenly frustrating, causing sylus to grit his teeth and throw the paper back onto the desk.

as if he didn’t have enough stress and paperwork in his life. as if philos hadn’t meddled in his life enough.

he groans softly and firmly picks up his weapons case off of his desk. he strides to the middle of the room and held the case up, eyes scanning his surroundings for a familiar bird.

“mephisto,” sylus calls with a scratchy voice, “take the case back to base.”

a dark crow flies out from the corner and caws as it’s claws grip onto the heavy case with concerning strength. the mechanical bird flaps its wings and glances down at sylus, its beady red eyes tracing his figure.

mephisto, in a way, was the only thing that could be above sylus.

the bird flaps in place for a moment before flying toward the office door with its package. sylus watches mephisto with a twitching lip, a few more words pending in his head.

“and mephisto… tell base those guns fucking suck.”

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the atmosphere was quite mellow. sunday was the best day to visit the bar; all the nerduwells and wannabe vigilantes in the n109 zone had exhausted their energy for the week, leaving the streets and establishments somewhat peaceful.

somewhat.

the recent epidemic of vampirism in neighboring sovereignties caused a spike of anxiety even here. even if the n109 was one of the most established empires in modern day, humans were prone to worry about what-ifs.

what-if n109 defenses weren’t enough to stop an army of blood-thirsty vampires?

what-if the security checks done on visitors overlooked someone?

what if the demand for the n109 zone's involvement in the ongoing epidemic increased, resulting in them making enemies with former allies? what if, what if, what if? but sylus didn't have the energy to worry about the what ifs. he only worried about what is. what is happening in onychinus's bases? well that would be massive weapon modification and revamping. what is sylus's role in the ongoing vampiric invasion? his only role is acting as the head of onychinus and as a protector of the n109 zone. what is currently happening in the main estate sylus worked in? well that would be a reinstation of a better, more thorough built-in security system.

which is why sylus was stuck here in a nearby bar that he frequented. well, frequented is a strong word - he more so popped in and out from time to time and only racked up a tab when he really needed it. the bartenders knew him, of course, and upon seeing the laundry list of a tab he was currently racking up, they felt a little concerned. but sylus was in no mood to talk, drinking was his conversation right now.

one shot empty meant give me another. two shots empty meant give me another. three shots empty meant give me another. four-maybe this language sylus was speaking was limited... but the bartenders understood it well. sylus puts down another shot glass and groans. "give me another. balkan this time, no chasers." "the balkan isn't meant for straight consumption," the bartender informs rather straightforwardly, "we can offer you finger foods with it, on the house." sylus flits his intense gaze from his glass up to the bartender. the frown on his lips and the twitch of his eyebrows communicates more than the empty glasses this time around. the bartender turns to his female co-worker. "balkan, no chasers." the 57th shot is when sylus called it quits. a man of his stature, strength, and age could not be toppled over easily. dragons drank for breakfast, lunch, and dinner on occasion. he was just reliving those days, it seemed. sylus stands and rubs his eyes in exhaustion. he wasn't sure how long he'd been sat at the bar for but the crowd that was here when he first stepped in was now entirely replaced. his gaze was only slightly distorted, but it was enough to make him stumble here and there. he reaches into his shirt pocket and slides out his black card with his fingertips, but is met with refusal from the bartenders. "we have your card on file," the female bartender smiled. "would you like us to call your drivers to take you back to your estate, sir? your renovations are most likely done by now." sylus raises an eyebrow at her. fuck, he must've mumbled on about his current pathetic life affairs to these poor workers and had somehow given them his driver's numbers. but the usual slight sense of embarrassment that would creep up on him was sputtered out by intoxication. he nodded slowly at the girl and sat back down as she left to the back for what he assumed would be a weird call to his chauffeurs. he waited for a period of time completely unknown to him. was the alcohol really screwing with his head this much? 57 was lightweight to him most days, but these days as of late weren't like most days. sure, the vampire epidemic had been going on for a few decades now, but the true climax of the crisis was just now beginning. meaning the true number of headaches sylus got was also increasing. there was a direct correlation to him. he looks down at his hands and frowns. in a drowsy, hazed state, a clear and lucid thought parts all other muddled words. what have i become? his mind goes back to the nonsensical fog that was there prior. it was only until he heard the familiar voice of the female bartender telling him that his ride was outside that he finally focused. he stood, strode assuredly through the doors of the bar, and exited the establishment with none of the emotions he amassed inside left behind. after a short, silent car ride, his destination was reached. the security system of the estate was fully renovated once sylus stepped inside. new DNA sensors, identification scans, ID processors, infrared lights, and an abundance of other authentication protection devices were established. all of which sylus knew by heart. he was the one who had ordered these to be built, after all. this type of security was what he wanted in the near future for all the vulnerable spots within the n109 zone. vampires aren't going to thrive in his empire if he has anything to say about it. sylus only makes it a few steps into the estate before he's beckoned. "boss, boss!" luke and kieran chirp from around the hall. they almost topple over each other trying to get to sylus first. "boss, look at these new ID cards base gave us!" luke giggles, "we had to take a whole shoot for these but they got our best angles!" the twins hold up two ID cards each, one with their masks on and one with them off. it was almost endearing to think that only sylus knew what they really looked like.

"yeah! and because of them, our faces can be sensed without taking our masks off! these new scanners were really worth the money!" kieran adds on with an obvious smile lilting his voice.

but the excitement in the twins' voice quickly die down as they noticed sylus's hazed, apathetic stare toward them. they slowly lower the ID cards and avert their gaze from such a dreadful sight.

"boss?" luke murmurs, "you alright?"

sylus keeps quiet. his eyes were half-lidded and pink and his stance was uneven. he looked a little annoyed but was mostly uncaring of what the twins had to say. the tension that always followed sylus was back now, and at his silence, the twins back away and apologize profusely before vanishing around the corner.

"boss is drunk," kieran simply remarks, childish joy gone from his voice.

sylus turns back to the corridor and walks himself to where an elevator was awaiting his arrival. he steps in, clicks a floor button, and was swiftly taken up directly into his bedroom. his button-up came off first and then his belt alongside his pants. he then slips out of his boxers, shoes, and then socks, all before stepping into his grandiose bathroom for a shower.

while sylus's mouth was quiet this entire time, his head was anything but. a looming sense of forlorn simmered in his chest as his thoughts journeyed him through regret. being in this position with his much power was what he wanted from day one as a baby dragon. and with that dream ripped away from his former self, why did it feel so terrible now to pursue it?

maybe this outbreak incident of vampires was what was needed to remind him of how vulnerable he is. his trade-off for stable, consistent power was this dread that he was feeling now. he once flew through skies free as a bird, now the closest thing he had to free flight was mephisto. maybe that's why he likes crows. they take the flight he can no longer chase. the shower turns off 45 million thoughts later and sylus steps out just as dazed as he stepped in. those shots were something persistent. even his tolerance was withering away, it seemed. he groans softly as he grabs a towel and dries his limbs. every movement felt ache-y and sloppy, but his body was soon dry enough to slip into his robe. before continuing his routine, he takes one good, hard look at himself in the mirror. that was him, surely, but why? why did that have to be him? sylus, leader of onychinus and protector of the n109 zone, a sovereignty of power and advancement. those titles felt isolating, for some reason. but that wasn't anything new. isolation was nothing new.

before he could vomit at the dizziness caused by focusing his eyes too hard, he steps back from the mirror and rubs his head. slowly, sylus's body moves out of the bathroom and into the main part of the bedroom. he slugs toward his bed and sits on the edge before fully twisting his body on the mattress. he doesn't bother lugging the blankets on top of his body, in fact, his skin was scalding. even the robe felt uncomfortable tied around his body like this, but he thought against removing it.

a familiar sense frustration grew within him again. the mere thought of being uncomfortable in his own body was unsettling, it only served his insecurities about becoming vulnerable. he slowly picks up his hand and rubs the side of his face.

"what the hell is this feeling…" he mumbles to himself.

with a resigned sigh, he lets his hand fall back to his side. he closes his eyes and tilts his head back on his pillow. a mixture of exhaustion and pain simmers within his body as he submits to fatigue and let's sleep sweep away his foggy mind.

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the n109 was special in the fact that there was no morning. everyone had their own sleep schedules, but the entire empire was nocturnal, in a sense. sylus himself didn't need much sleep. unlike most humans that needed seven to eight hours per night, he only needed about three or four to fully function, but he could also go days without it. that's why when sylus woke up eleven hours after his night of drinking, he felt a little confused. he squints at the clock on his bedside table to fully ensure that he wasn't imaging the time. no, it had actually been eleven hours. damn, his tolerance was really degrading. he pushes himself off the bed and steps into his slippers. he simultaneously felt better and worse from the night before. his headache was gone for the most part, but the heat under his skin was still there. actually, his skin was so hot that it was a bit itchy. sylus scratches at his face for a few moments before deciding it was somehow the consequence of drinking so much. the alcohol boiling in his body was probably making his body temperature rise, causing this weird sensation. he walks to the bathroom, hoping a cold shower might help mediate this problem. in the back of his head, the myriads of labor waiting for him today laid. he had to run inspections on his new security system to ensure its upkeep, and once he was satisfied, he would go to base to discuss a more widespread implementation of it.

but despite being awake for all of four minutes, it was seeming like nothing was going to plan today. sylus steps into his bathroom and disrobes himself with one tug at his belt. he moves to the shower and turns on the water before staring at himself in the mirror. as he waited for the temperature of the water to drop to the coldest setting, his eyes traced his bare form in the mirror, top to bottom, over and over again. it was almost like he was judging himself. but something catches his eye on his third round of scrutiny. he steps closer to the mirror and leans into his reflection, eyeing down his skin with suspicion. he narrows his gaze on his neck and almost flinches back in shock as he spots something inconceivable. four scarred over circles on the side of his neck, a bit darker than his normal skin tone. a vampire bite. his hands quickly come up to grasp at the patch of skin. he runs his fingertips over the blemishes, but he feels nothing but smoothness there like normal. the bites were healed, but they weren't there the night before, he would know.

vampire bites didn't heal that quickly, but sylus's body was strong enough to recover in record time. in fact, most his scars disappeared after a day or so - but that only further supported the idea that these bites happened recently. most definitely in the eleven hours he abnormally slept. this realization makes sylus stumble back until his back presses against the bathroom wall. "is this some sort of joke? are the twins doing this?" he mutters to himself in disbelief. "how... there's no possible way a vampire could've gotten into the n109 zone, there's no possible way one got into my... my fucking house." a wave of fear washed over sylus. fear was an emotion long forgotten by his brain but in this moment, with the possibility that the security of the entire n109 zone was jeopardized, he felt true fear. quickly, he swipes his robe off of the floor and turns off the shower. he leaves the bathroom and scours his room with intensity, throwing various furniture and items around like a man gone mad.

where was the little piece of shit? how was he supposed to know at what point a vampire got into his estate - bypassing all his new security - and then feasted on him like he was free meat. the mere idea of his privacy and defense being knocked down so easily after everything... everything he's done, it was insanity. there was no vampire in his room, obviously. he figured that as soon as he flipped the bed upside down only to find his bedframe. but there was the entirety of the estate left. in fact, there was the twins left. the thought of the two suffering from their transformation shot panic through sylus, causing him to fly toward the elevator in his room and bang its button to beckon it. at least his body was strong enough to repel the actual mutation of vampirism, and even then, he was suffering obvious side effects. but the twins? they were just boys to him; they weren't anything close to being capable of handling that type of pain. sylus rides the elevator down a few floors to where the twins' room were and then bolts out at soon as the doors open. please, please, please. luke. kieran. bang. bang. bang. "luke, kieran! are... are you guys in there?!" bang. bang. bang. "luke! kier-" "boss, what the hell?!" sylus turns his head toward the end of the hall where luke and kieran were standing. they wouldn't lie, sylus was scaring them a little. a wave of relief washes over sylus as he sees their normal, healthy forms. albeit, they were flinching a little but they were normal. "you two..." sylus whispers, "you two are okay, right?" the twins glance at each other and then turn back to sylus. they nod. "y...yeah?" kieran stutters unsurely. "why? did something happen?" sylus tenses but shakes his head profusely. he lowers his arms off their adjacent bedroom doors and steps slowly toward them. "no, no, nothing happened. i just... had a bad dream about you two. i... wanted to make sure you guys were safe." the twins make another glance to each other. "really boss?" luke remarks, "you had a nightmare? that's never happened to you before. are you sure you're okay?" sylus almost wants to smile at luke's naivety, but he remembers the situation he is in. "that's what you're focusing on?" kieran chimes in, sounding rather happy. "boss is back to caring about us! yay! we don't have to worry about being orphan crows anymore!" luke shoves kieran's side with his elbow, reprimanding him for so openly talking about their fear of abandonment to sylus like this. "ow!" sylus watches the two for a moment, thanking the skies that they weren't harmed. but this revelation opened up a new basket of questions. why did this vampire only target him? were they only trying to take him out? before he could ponder on these questions for any longer, he once again reminds himself that it was only him who knew about this - as far as he was aware. at the very least luke and kieran didn't know, and he intended to keep it that way. "guys," sylus murmurs with tension creeping up in his voice. he tries to quell it, but he couldn't exactly ignore the fact that he had been bitten. so fucking stealthily too. "guys, i'm going to need you two to stay in your rooms for today. i... have to run security checks on the estate and i just need... i just need to go through everything alone. no distractions." "hey we won't dis-" "please," sylus pleads, "please just listen to me. your chores at base today are cancelled, stay in your rooms." the twins seemed genuinely shocked at sylus's uncharacteristic begs. for the first time in a while, the despondent aura that sylus held was gone, now replaced with something they couldn't name. they felt an urge to listen. "okay boss, we'll stay in our rooms," kieran murmurs. luke doesn't verbally respond but nods. they passed by sylus and both headed into their respective rooms, leaving sylus alone in the hall. with a deep breath, sylus looks to the elevator and smiles in anger.

"i'm gonna find you... and then i'm gonna kill you with my bare hands." ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

desperate was the understatement of the century. sylus was in absolute shambles. he checked every fucking camera outside of his estate and nothing came about. he checked every security verification, every sensor, every authentication that was implemented in his estate and still nothing. but his estate wasn't his only concern. he called base to inquiry about the border security checks and for a list of every single person who entered or exited the n109 zone within the last two days. every single name on there was investigated on thoroughly, and still nothing. he was running on fumes at this point. despite his long, restful slumber, restful was the last thing sylus felt. the horror that ensued upon seeing his bites and then the fury that followed it were draining to his already exhausted body. but he could get no peace until he figured out what the actual hell was going on. the good news was, there didn't seem to be any reports of vampire bites within the n109 zone, as well as no reported cases of vampire sightings. that meant whoever was doing this wasn't attacking other people.

maybe not yet, but sylus would rip their limbs apart tortuously before they even got the chance.

this also meant this vampire was probably the only vampire within the n109 zone. statistically speaking, if there were a group of vampires that had infiltrated the empire, someone or some security check would've at least raised one warning flag and sent off a tip-off to base. but there were no such reports at base. in the same way the twins being safe drove sylus equally mad as he was relieved, these new findings did the same. "so you're telling me..." sylus chuckles incredulously under his breath while flitting his gaze between the various screens in front of him, "that little bitch snuck into my land, my territory, and into... ha... my bedroom... to bite me and only me. eager way to assert your dominance... going straight for the top dog." sylus was talking to himself as he had been the last several hours of investigating. he was equal parts fearful, frustrated, impressed, and an innumerable of other feelings. how was he supposed to catch what was seemingly a new breed of ghost vampire? and how was he supposed to feel secure in his position - in his home - knowing that a vampire had snuck into the n109 zone and infiltrated his estate, all while bypassing security. the disbelief of a smile on his face morphed into a grit of anger. sylus stands up from his chair, almost knocking it over with force, and clenches his fists. the security room in his estate was dark and was only illuminated by the white and blue lights that came off of the camera screens. this new room was a part of the mansion upgrade, and yet all of its capabilities served fruitless. "fuck, i can't do anything. i can't... do anything. how can't i do anything?!" sylus's voice was getting progressively louder and more frustrated with every realization. arguably the most powerful man on this side of the world couldn't do anything. he begins to pace. "i can't let anyone know," he murmurs to himself, "fuck, if anyone finds out then my entire empire comes down. if it was found out that a vampire infiltrated the n109 zone and my estate under my watch, it'll be absolute mayhem. i can't. fuck, what am i supposed to do?" the fumes must've been working overtime in sylus's brain, because an idea that makes him halt pops up. "base." he rushes to the intercom by the computerized table in the security room and makes an urgent call to the base of onychinus. he waits for a few seconds anxiously but soon hears a familiar voice. "yes, sir?" one of the heads officers of base answer, recognizing sylus's call. "all the vampiric prototypes you have, and i mean every single weapon, send them over to my main estate. i'm giving you all 2 hours maximum to send them or else i'm coming down there myself and ripping all your contracts in front of your faces. then i’m kicking you to the curb."

“but sir, i thought you said you weren’t satisfi—“

“send. them.”

the resolution in sylus’s voice was something not to be trifled with. the voice on the other end keeps quiet for a moment but then responds the next.

“they will be there in the hour, sir.”

the officer was wrong. they were delivered in the half hour.

the sheer amount of prototypes that were hauled down to sylus’s security room was impressive. sylus watched every single second of the process until every shipment that base brought with them was stashed in the room. they were organized by weapon and then by size, having all the small handguns in one corner and then all BMG sniper rifles in another corner. the room was an eyesore of metal cases, but each case housed a weapon that could potentially kill that vermin of a vampire with efficiency and ease. the sight brought premature retribution to sylus's soul. god forbid he comes face to face with the poor creature. he'll commend them for being so stealthily and intelligent but then kill them in the next breath he'd take. killing so intimately was not sylus's forte, but that's what he felt reduced to at this point.

after base made their final rounds of delivery, sylus was left alone in the security room with his new weapons of vengeance. he steps forward toward one of the cases in the silver section of the weaponry. silver was said to be a vampire's weakness, but also hard to source. carefully, he opens one of cases housing a silver assault rifle and admires the shine on the barrel. it came with silver high-caliber bullet tips and a silencer. in one go, he found his main weapon. sylus smiles to himself and stands with the case, leaving the rest of the cases in the security room for now. he would put those to use at some point, but overloading himself with weapons around the estate would only cause him more trouble. he needed one good gun. he now has one good gun. despite mumbling to himself for the past few hours and feeling like he was slowly going insane, sylus was now quiet in the ride up to his office. his vulnerability was now masked by his armory of weapons, and he would put all of them to use if needed. walking into the room, sylus places the case down on his desk and looks around suspiciously. being paranoid was new too, wasn't it? slowly, he strides around and pulls one of the cabinet drawers to take out a small handheld mirror. he's refused to look at himself since he first found the bite. he raises the mirror and angles it toward his neck, right over the area where the bite was. the scar was almost completely gone now but the discoloration was just faintly there. he could almost visualize the arch of the vampire's teeth sinking into his skin and making him bleed a dinner out for them. it makes him shudder and groan in frustration. quickly, he places the mirror down and swallows. as much as she wanted to get to the bottom of this now, he needed to wait. there was no finding an untraceable vampire. he sighs and slowly lowers himself onto his desk chair. the heat and dizziness that plagued him that morning was practically non-existent now. other than his frustration, sylus felt no different physically. it brought him some sense of reassurance to know he couldn't easily be transformed, but not everyone was like him. in fact, luke and kieran were still practically hidden away in their rooms because of that very fact. "mm, god im exhausted," sylus rumbled with a hand rub to his temples. when his eyes adjust open again they catch a glimpse of something on his desk. he furrows his brows and reaches out for the stray paper, bringing it up to his face. it's that woman again. the one from philos. the one dead. he frowns. "you're torturing me too, yknow?" he chuckles hollowly, "why can't i seem to... know you? you should know your people were horrible pieces of shit. were you a horrible piece of shit like them? you probably were, everyone there was. everyone but..." he trails off, a distant memory in his head failing to reach him. "i don't know actually. hopefully you weren't as miserable as the people of philos. you're too..." he trails off again and stares at the woman's picture. "too kind-looking."

sylus continues to stare at the report for a few more moments before realizing he was talking to himself again-or rather, to a piece of paper. a death certificate. he places the paper down and tilts his head back, softly laughing at himself. "i've gone fucking crazy."

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over a week had passed since the initial incident. every "morning" to "night", sylus spent his time obsessively watching the cameras in his home and scouring the area with his rifle. the twins were quarantined in their rooms for hours on end at a time, and neither of them got a straight answer as to why. right now, sleep was not an option. losing his empire was more important than losing sleep, and this one son-of-a-bitch was threatening the safety of his entire sovereignty. sylus's days dragged on endlessly with routine checks and guarding keeping his body awake at every hour. as much as he hated to admit it, the lack of sleep was genuinely getting to his already muddled brain, making it harder to think properly and function. his human body had limitations his former self didn't, it seemed. his movements were fussy and staggered. he thought it had been days but what if it had been weeks since the bite? was he really worried about something that happened so long ago? he could no longer be sure. but the safety of his empire, of luke and kieran, of his life was not a joke. sylus makes his 73rd round down the same hall that his office was in. the mess inside was cleaned sometime during his manic state, but he couldn't properly remember. his legs grew tired and ache-y from all of his patrolling. it felt like he was being tortured but all of this was his decision to do. slightly defeated, even more-so exhausted, sylus slid down the wall of the hallway and held his silver rifle tightly in his hands. he could still patrol with his eyes of course, just right here. his eyes moved back and forth from one end of the hall to the other, slowly, attentively, drowsily. he kept his sharp ears open for any noises but all he heard was the ambience of his estate. he had worn himself out to the bone. sylus was more susceptible than he thought. his eyes closed.

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"boss! boss! boss wake up! boss!"

sylus's eyes shoot open to see luke and kieran standing over him. their gloved hands were firm on his shoulders and arms as the two shook him with vigor. "boss! there's someone in the estate! boss!" a surge of panic and adrenaline pump into sylus's veins. he quickly stands to his feet and tightens his grip on the gun. "where?! where?! tell me, where are they?!" "we caught them!" kieran yells. "they were in the security room, but we brought them to your office and caught them!" luke adds on. sylus's eyes widen. he figured the twins brought whoever the hell this was to his office because it was the most heavily secured placed in the estate, so the idea of this perpetrator being just a few doors down made sylus triumph. he would thank the twins later. "stay right here. don't even think about moving an inch." this newfound sense of both relief and excitement empowered sylus and every footstep he took toward his office door. slowly, carefully, he unlocks the door with his facial and finger scans before ensuring the twins were still in their same position and then clicking it open. the gun was held up, ready to fire at any given moment once he saw the source of his torture behind his door. the door opens fully and then closes behind him. his eyes scour the area before landing on the anomaly in the room.

a person.

a girl. you. tied up and blinfolded in the corner of the room, unmoving but breathing. he grins and inches closer to you until a mere few feet away. "thought you could play around with me?" he gruffs. "you don't know what you've gotten yourself into. who are you?" you don't answer. he notices your breathing is slow and a bit labored, which was strange given your circumstances. what was stranger was the complexion on you wasn't gaunt or grey-out like a vampire at all, but you still weren’t supposed to be here. sylus narrows his eyes at you and grits his teeth. if you weren't going to answer he would get the answers himself. he leans down to you and pulls the blindfold around your head off with an aggressive yank. the moment it's gone you look up at him, eyes half lidded and drained of energy. soulless. empty. sylus knew that type of look in someone's eye. the look before death. "who are you and how did you manage to bypass my security?" sylus repeats, tone just slightly softer. "answer me or i'll torture it out of you." he watches you open your mouth only for no noise to come out. you were obviously struggling, but with what? sylus didn't know. sensing there was no immediate threat, sylus lowers his gun and knits his brows together in confusion and agitation. "what is it?" he asks.

no answer. "are you playing some type of game? you bypass my security, sneak into my estate, and what? now you're dying? fucking joke right?" you open your mouth again but no noise. this time around, sylus spots it. your teeth, sharp canines on both the top and bottom rows. vampire. a low chuckle escapes him. this was near unbelievable. "vampire. you're the goddamn vampire who bit me and somehow got away with it for all this time. i should thank you, though, you taught me im not as weak as i thought i was and that you're not as strong as i thought you were." you twitch slightly and cough. "b...blood... p...please..." you sputter out in an extremely hoarse voice.

sylus was almost taken aback by your words. you were asking for blood. from who? from him? he didn't believe you had the audacity, but it seems like you did. "blood? blood?" he laughs heartily and clutches his chest. "what makes you think i want to feed you and keep you alive? do you hear yourself?” the surprises just kept coming as tears fell from your face. your clenched expression and obvious pain were a sight to behold, a sight that sylus couldn't exactly bring himself to enjoy. he didn't like seeing torture, if he killed, he did so instantaneously to avoid torturing anyone. but you looked like you suffered just as much as sylus had. he frowns in disgust at his empathy but it was all quickly replaced by keen interest. he squints his eyes at you and feels an unsettling sense of familiarity crowd his chest. where... where did he know his feeling from? sylus quickly stands and rushes over to his desk to grab the rogue piece of paper that never left from there. he brings it back to your form and holds it up to compare the faces. it was uncanny, unreal, unbelievable.

you were the woman in the death reports? nothing made sense anymore. maybe this was the final stage of insanity. but before sylus could even register another thought he hears your voice again, this time more broken and desperate. "blood... p..please blood... please." he stilled. what was he supposed to do? at this point he knew he couldn't let you die, not with all this mystery around you, but what he supposed to do?

you cry out again, using all of your left energy to plead. "pl..please... blood... please! p..please!" he slowly puts down the paper and stares at you. despite knowing this was you in the death report, he still couldn't shake off the feeling he knew you from somewhere. he could almost feel you. deep inside his chest somewhere he felt your presence there.

you weren't some ordinary "person" that was for sure.

he almost thought against it, but his body moved before his brain could catch up. slowly, he crouches down and inches toward you up until your face was hovering over his shoulder. he cups your head from behind and pushes you further into his form. "shh, drink."

a/n: thanks if u made it this so far, lol. chapter 2 soon!

[jarofstyles]

Blossom

In which Harry is hard but Y/N is his soft place to land. People have doubts over her being able to handle the alpha, considering her cashmere and tea like demeanor, but something about it evens out. 

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WC- 6.3k

Warnings- supernatural themes, wolfrry, possessive behavior, threats, obsessed tbh, soul mates, smut, biting, knotting, breeding, praise kink, worship!

—-

“My Blossom.” The alpha spoke lowly, watching as his mate approached him. Something was wrong- something was bothering her. He could smell it- and he didn’t like it. “Why are you wilted, my love?” 

It was his way of asking her why she was upset. Usually, she was upbeat. Chirpy. Cooing and grinning, moving slowly with the air of comfort radiating around her. Warmth was her aura, and people tended to feel it. Even Harry’s closed off demeanor had felt it the first time he had seen her- but today, she seemed to have cooled down.

Her scent was always the first indicator that something was amiss, the sweet honey and jasmine tinged with the smoke of a candle blown out too soon. It was the most obvious alert, but he could see it very clearly. She was trying to act alright, but that precious smile didn’t reach her eyes- and it pissed him off. If it were just a documentary bothering her, having accidentally stepped on a bee, burning a batch of cookies or something he could soothe away with a few purrs, she would say so. Communication was usually never an issue with them.

She didn’t come out and say it, meaning something had pissed her off.

Something he was going to deal with. 

“I’m okay, my Moon.” Stepping into his vacinity she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, hands finding his chest with another weaker smile. Like he wouldn’t see that her eyes weren’t crinkled just the tiniest bit like normal. “It is nothing of importance. I’m fine.” 

Of course he didn’t buy it. Pawing at her waist, he backed her up into the counter before lifting her up on to it. His gaze was intense, searching her thoroughly as he tried to get it out of her. There were no marks or bruises on her, no sign of physical pain, so that was something- but an emotional bruise could hurt just as much, if not worse. 

His hands settled on her waist possessively, pulling her closer as he towered over her seated form on the countertop. "Look at me." He growled lowly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deceit. He could smell the lie on her, the faint scent of bitter herbs hiding beneath her usual sweet aroma. Nothing displeased him more than her pain. Emotional, physical, it irritated him more than most would consider rational- but he tried to be, for her benefit. Y/N hated making him upset at all. She did whatever she could to avoid tripping the delicate wire that was his temper. Not because he was ever aggressive with her, but he was quick to satiate his thirst for revenge. An eye for an eye. The preferred method for the mother of the pack was peace, calm, order. The complete opposite, balancing him out. This time, though, he didn’t seem too keen on letting it be brushed under the rug. 

 "Who upset you?" His tone left no room for argument, his alpha voice rumbling slightly as he demanded answers. The slightly sharp tone was paired with the sweet stroke over her cheek, trying to sooth any sting the tone may have. Harry didn’t want her to feel like he was upset with her, but not knowing what upset the love of his life was infuriating.

“I am alright, Alpha.” She whispered, cupping his face in her hands. “It is simply the wind bringing in the weeds. Soon it will blow over.” Her fingertips scratched slightly over his stubble, letting out a soft little sigh for him. Her sweet, stubborn man. The leader of the pack had to be, and he was born for it- but it was hard to calm the fires he was impulsive to start when it came to her. “I was made aware that some members of our pack simply do not understand our dynamic, my Moon. And that is alright.” It did upset her, though. He could smell that and she knew it, but she also knew his temper. Harry usually was a fair alpha to his pack despite his temper, especially since she had mated with him, and she didn’t want him losing his head over something so trivial.

"Blossom..." He caught her wrist gently but firmly, bringing her hand down from his face to press a kiss against her palm. Her sweet touches only partially distracted him from the rising storm inside. The wolf pressed against his mind, insisting they protect their mate from the unseen threats, pacing like he was locked in a cage. Always a fighter, it had still taken Harry by surprise how bloodthirsty he could become when it came to Y/N.

 "You think I won't gut every creature who looked at you wrong today?" The words were a dark whisper against her skin, the alpha tone heavier. Enough to make her let out an almost silent whine as she squirmed just a bit, giving him a look. “No, none of that.” Tapping against her chin, he searched her eyes. “You come in looking wilted and sad. Who has taken your time in the sun, sweet one?” Nudging her nose with his own, he knew it was a dirty play to make her fess up, but she responded to his sweetness. “Hm? Just let me know what was said.”

“Harry.” She sighed, letting her eyes close. “It truly is trivial. I promise. I had just…” Swallowing the lump that had materialized in her throat, she leaned into him and let their forehead press together. The closeness usually helped. “People have been talking… questioning me today, actually. About if I think I will be able to handle you at your worst.” She started off slow, running her hands down his shoulders. Trying to keep him calm, feeling his body tense up as she spoke. His hackles were raised. 

“Some of the warriors, they were speaking to me in the great hall. They were warning me of how you are during times of war. In battle. About how you almost went feral, and they said that I seem very… soft.” It didn’t offend her that they thought she was soft because she was. Y/N took pride in it. But softness didn’t equate to being weak. “They had said in passing they had expected you to mate with a fierce warrior. Someone with more bite, who could keep up with you. I suppose it upset me because I am not that. I’ve never wanted to be. I know my strengths, but.. Hearing that some of our pack think we are not well matched? It displeases the soul connection.” To her wolf. It had angered her, and Y/N hated feeling angry. The inky black feeling swirling through her body was not a common one she felt and it was one she wanted to rid herself of.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he processed her words, his grip tightening slightly on her hips. The audacity of any of the pack to question their bond, to doubt the strength of his gentle mate... Considering the kindess she showed every day? The meals she planned, the baskets she had started to put together for families expecting pups? Did they really not know how badly his nerves needed some calm, some sweetness? Y/N was his match in every sense of the word. The goddess wouldn’t have paired them together if that wasn’t the case. Hearing the surely censored version from her -because she was still being a pack mother and protecting them-, it set his blood aflame with barely contained fury. The disrespect. The disgusting lack of gratitude. It was unfathomable.

 "Listen to me very carefully, Blossom." His voice was velvet over steel, each word precisely enunciated while trying to keep it softer for her sake. "Our connection goes far beyond mere strength or fierceness of a warrior. Your fierceness lies in putting up with me.” He tried to soften his tone with a joke but it didn’t really work. The anger was festering and he wanted to know who exactly said it. Most of all, he wanted her to never let those words bother her because none of them knew what he needed. Only she would ever have the slightest clue of what he would need.

 “You are my anchor in every storm, my light in the darkest of nights. The only reason I have not set out to find who it is that is spreading this disgusting lie, this delusion that anyone but you would ever be remotely capable of knowing my needs, is because you soothe me. Like your teas do for you, your presence does for my entire being. Wolf and all.” Needing the skin contact, he slipped his hand under her top, feeling the warmth of her back. “Do you see? You understand how I just calmed, just by touching your bare skin?” His voice dropped to a rasp, shaking his head. “They will never know what I need. You, my mate from the stars, are the only thing I will ever need.”

Y/N let out a sigh in response, relaxing a little as he spoke his truth to her. Not once did she doubt that he thought these things, not once did she doubt her connection to him- but it had hurt to hear people think she wasn’t the correct woman for him. That they thought he could do better. Some of it was from obvious jealousy, considering some of the very wolves saying the things were warriors themselves, but it still did not feel good. The alpha female would be the first to admit she was sensitive, she always had been- but it also bothered her to know they doubted their alpha’s bond.

She could see why they’d be jealous. Harry was powerful in every sense of the word. He was handsome, intelligent, strong, able to lead effortlessly. There was nothing about him that would turn off a wolf looking for a mate to protect them and provide the best life- but he was hers. Y/N owned his heart.

His heart ached as he felt her relax against him, her warmth that he adored so much seeping into his hand. He hated that she had to hear such nonsense, hated that it hurt her- lies. Pure and utter shit lies that had him feeling the flames of anger flicking back to his stomach. "I swear to the moon and back, Blossom, no one knows me like you do. You see things in me that I don't even see myself.” His mate would never be able to truly know how much it had shocked him from their first meeting until now, how she could read him. How she knew what he needed at all times, even if he tried to deny it of himself.�� 

“And as for needing someone stronger, fiercer... that is complete shit. They have no idea what you do for me. How you uplift me, keep me strong on your own terms. They don't understand that your gentle strength is the very thing that keeps me grounded."

Harry's voice dropped to a whisper, his breath ghosting over her ear as he pulled her impossibly closer. "You are the shield that guards my feral nature from emerging and becoming everyone’s problem. You saved me from losing myself. You, my love, are the soft melody that soothes the savage beast within me." His instincts urged him to protect her, to hunt down those who dared speak ill of his mate- the mother of the pack, no less. Yet, he held back, knowing she needed gentleness, not brutality. It would be dealt with, no doubt, but she would be put above that. That’s the way it would always remain. "Anyone can battle, but only you can give me peace. Only you can quiet the storm inside me."

As he whispered those words into her ear, he felt her melt into him, her smaller frame pressing against his built one like a puzzle piece. Her scent seemed to wrap around him, sweet honey and jasmine filling his senses- calming the beast within him further. Her breathing hitched slightly, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she nuzzled into his neck, seeking out comfort and reassurance that only he could offer her.

The sound of her soft whimper was music to his ears, the gentle vibrations traveling through his chest as he held her close. He responded with a purr of his own,  stroking her back soothingly. His scarred hand rubbed the bare skin with comforting circles as he pressed kisses to her hair. "Hush, my love... my gentle soul. None of that matters. What matters is you and I, our bond, our love. Nothing and no one can ever change that." His voice was a warm blanket, wrapping around her and keeping the chill of doubt at bay.

Harry could feel her frame shaking slightly, not from cold but from the emotional turmoil she had endured today trying to release itself. It infuriated him that anyone had made his angel of a mate feel this way, but he focused on soothing her instead of hunting down the culprits immediately.  If this had been before she had worked her magic on him, any other true problem, he would have snapped. Attacked. But his priorities had shifted. "Blossom..." He murmured, his voice low and rumbling, "Look at me, please."

Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as they met his gaze. The sight of her grief pierced his heart like a dagger, his instincts yet again screaming at him to eliminate whatever had caused her distress. But he swallowed his fury, choosing instead to drink in the beauty of her vulnerable expression. "There she is," he whispered, thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that dared to trickle down her soft cheek. "My fierce, tender flower."

He pressed gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her jawline, and finally her lips- each one a silent promise of his unwavering love and protection. His touch was worship, as if he were praising every contour of her face with his lips. Perhaps he was. It’s what an angelic being like her deserved. Too fucking sweet for the likes of the beasts that tried to steal that sweetness from her. It belonged to him. She belonged to him as he belonged to her, and that was going to be made very clear.  Between each kiss, he murmured soothing words against her skin, peppering his own affection in the ways he knew how. How she’d taught him. "You're perfect. Made of the stars. Brave. Mine. Always mine." His hands cradled her face, his calloused thumbs caressing her smooth skin in a soothing rhythm.

He loved her with a power that had previously been unknown to him- and now that he was more than familiar with it? The people who had made her question it were going to find out. 

——

When Harry walked into the training ground, they knew immediately. It was a change in the air, like the birds stilling in the trees. Nature knew he was angry. With his broad shoulders back and his expression like stone, it was hard to miss. The harsh lines of his face were accentuated by his jaw ticking slightly. His eyes were dark, almost black, his entire body language screamed "danger". He was silent, deadly, and someone was in for it. No one spoke as he entered, the wolves freezing mid-training. They knew that look.

Each step echoed off of the trees deliberately, measured, as he approached the front of the training grounds. His presence was a storm front, cold and heavy enough that the other wolves began to shift nervously. He didn't need to bark orders, didn't need to raise his voice. The pure menace rolling off him in waves was more than enough. "Who was speaking about my mate?" His voice was quiet in volume, but it cut through the air like a blade.

The group exchanged uneasy looks. None wanted to be the one to answer. They had seen Harry lose his shit before, but never like this. Never so controlled. So dangerously still. It was silent for a while, looks nervously thrown to one another. They knew what he was talking about, but no one wanted to speak out. Not when he looked that angry. It took a few minutes of uncomfortable silence before one of the bravest, or perhaps dumbest, Grace, stepped forward slightly. "Alpha?" She tested the waters carefully. "We were- it was just chatting shit. Teasing. You know how it goes." She tried to laugh it off, but it fell flat. Nothing about this was a joking matter. Multiple people winced at her attempt to try and be casual with the Alpha, but there was nothing they could do. 

The forest seemed to echo the unnatural silence as Harry's eyes snapped to her. "So you think she's not good enough?" His voice was deadly soft, head tilting slightly. "You think you have the right to question her worth? To question our bond?" He took a step closer to Grace, towering over her. Not just in physical presence, but in power. His eyes flashed with a primal fury that made her take a step back. "She's the heart of this pack. The very air that we breathe. And you dare to speak ill of her?" His voice rose, reverbing through the trees. "I should rip out your throat for even thinking such things, let alone trying to speak them out loud. Cut out your tongue. I thought you would be able to put pathetic jealousy to the side and embrace having a pack mother, but I overestimated some of you." The other wolves shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very interested in the ground. They knew he was correct. His anger wasn’t misplaced. No alpha took well to their mates being threatened.

"I should line you up and demand the names of anyone whose goal was to make my mate upset. Make you suffer the same amount of days as the tears I’ve cleansed her face of. It’s what anyone deserved after disrespecting not only the pack mother, but the alpha himself. Any disrespect on her is a disrespect to me.” His snarl was deep as he watched them flinch. It pleased him, in a sick way. They should be scared to upset her. 

“I think you all have gotten a bit too comfortable with her kindness. I am not as kind as her. I have a penchant for revenge and you all know how I handle that in this pack. I should kill you all for trying to place doubt on my soul tie.” He said after a long moment, his snarling voice returning to that deadly calm. "But I won't. Because she asked me not to. My mate is kind, forgiving. Things I am not. She thinks you're misguided, not malicious." 

He looked out at the group, his gaze icy and unforgiving. "But let me make one thing clear. If I ever hear such talk again, if I ever sense even a hint of disrespect towards my mate, the matriarch of this god damn pack? There will be consequences." He paused, letting his words sink in. There was no denying that Harry would make good on his word. He always did.

Harry took one last glance around the circle of startled wolves, ensuring his message had sunk in thoroughly. His stance remained rigid, hands clenched at his sides as he battled the lingering urge to discipline physically, let out the anger. But for his mate's sake, he restrained himself. She was asleep in their bed with swollen eyes, and that simply wouldn’t do. Getting back to her was the priority. "Understood?" He growled, awaiting their confirmation with barely concealed impatience. The weight of his gaze pressed down on them, demanding verbal acknowledgment of the unspoken rules he'd just laid out.

The chorus of “Yes, Alpha.” Wasn’t good enough for his wolf- but it would do for now. 

—— 

As Harry slipped back into their shared room, he moved with a practiced quiet, not wanting to disturb his sleeping mate. The soft moonlight filtering through the closed sheer curtains illuminated her peaceful form, curled up beneath the blankets like a little lump. Her body was turned away from the door, one of his pillows between her arms as she snoozed- most likely to get his scent close. He shouldn’t have had to leave her at all so she had the scent from the source, but it had been a necessary sacrifice. 

Quickly shedding his clothes, the fabric rustled softly in the still room as he kicked it to the side. The laundry basket would have to wait for tomorrow. With no shame of his nudity he carefully climbed into bed beside her, slipping under the blankets to share his body heat with her. He inched closer, his larger frame spooning around her smaller one as he placed a few kisses to her bare shoulder.

Rubbing his nose into the crook of her neck, the man took a deep inhale of the purest source of her. The familiar sweet scent of honey and jasmine soothed his frayed nerves, undoing some of the tension that had his bones creaking. There was no cure like the feeling of the one person in the world that was hand plucked by the goddess herself. Nothing could compare. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest as his hand rested over her soft stomach. Even in sleep, she let out a content sigh and wiggled back against him, seeking out his warmth. His hardness pressed against her backside, but he ignored it for now. This moment was about comfort, not lust.

“Where were you?” Well… with her not as asleep as he thought, he let out a hum as he inhaled her scent again. Y/N was sleepy, sure, but her hands rested over his own rubbing over the backs of them, over his knuckles and fingers.

"Training grounds." He murmured lowly, exhaustion in his voice. He knew she was checking his hands for bruises, for cuts, his knuckles for any splits. She always did that when he was gone too long. He loved that she worried about him, that she checked his body for damage- but he had promised not to lose his temper and torture anyone in her name tonight. He had made good on that promise- even when it was extremely hard. "Why are y’up?" He called softly. "Are you alright?"

“I’m alright, my Moon.” She nodded, leaning back into him. “I just can not manage to sleep well when you aren’t in the bed with me. Especially when I don’t know wherever it is you’ve run off to. Sneaky”

"Mmhmm." He hummed skeptically, pulling her into him. He knew she wasn't sleeping well without him, but he had to handle it soon or he would go crazy letting he anger fester. "M’sorry, my petal. I had to make sure they knew you were to be respected. That is all." He asked, his voice low as he felt her fingers splaying over his knuckles again, searching for any signs of injury as she was given the other one. 

"Stop worrying about my hands, love." He murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple as he interlaced his fingers with hers deliberately, halting her inspection. "They're fine. I kept my word, didn't fight anyone." He reiterated softly, squeezing her hand gently to reassure her. His breath tickled her ear as he nestled closer, feeling himself settle a little bit. This was the meaning of life, he was pretty positive. To be laid up in bed with the love of his life. To protect her and keep her happy. All of those things felt like the best thing to do.

She let out a content sigh, her body melting into his as she squeezed their intertwined fingers. The relief was palpable, her shoulders sagging slightly as the tension drained from her muscles. "Thank you, Harry." She whispered, her voice thick with both the interrupted sleep and multitude of emotions. "I know it's hard for you to hold back, especially when it comes to protecting me. But... thank you for keeping your promise."

"For you? Anything." The Alpha mumbled into her hair. The way she trusted him, even when he was clearly wound up... it meant everything. "Go back to sleep, beautiful Blossom." He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "Need your sleep." But he didn't move away yet.

Unable to ignore the hardness pressing insistently against her ass cheeks, Y/N squirmed, grinding back against him. Sleep was not on her mind now that he had come back. The breathy little moan that escaped her lips betrayed her body's awakening desires, even if her mind was still fuzzy with sleep. Harry growled softly into her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he stiffened further against her. "Sleeping beauty," he murmured huskily, "don't wiggle your perfect little ass like that unless you want me to do something about it."

 She needed the sleep, sure, but if she tempted him… Harry would give her what she needed. What she deserved. His body was hers in whatever way she needed it. The erection was a natural reaction to being so close to her own naked body, but he knew that if she continued he would have little time before he lost restraint and pushed into her plush little cunt.

He waited for her response. Would she go back to sleep like an angel? Or would she grind against him again, seeking out friction? His body was tense, his length throbbing against her backside. If she gave one little hitch of her hips, he would spread those lush thighs apart and slip inside. He was an Alpha, he had a lot of repressed feelings from today and he hasn’t been able to completely release them yet. He was already hanging by a thread. The fact she was naked and his body was wrapped around her wasn't helping any bit of self control he had.

As she remained still for a few moments, he let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest. But then, without warning, she gave a subtle shift of her hips, rubbing her ass against his cock- and what was left of Harry's control snapped like a twig. He groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pushed her thighs apart and notched his head against her entrance. "Fuck, baby..." He hissed, feeling how sweet and sticky she was. Her cunt was always perfect but he especially appreciated it today. Slick, like she had been waiting for this exact thing. Always waiting for his cock. “S’good. Good little pussy…” The words were slurred against her throat, holding her still as he pushed the thick tip further into her.

Her lips parted in a silent gasp as he entered her, back arching slightly from the sudden- but welcomed- intrusion. Though they'd made love countless times, the sheer size of him never failed to take her breath away. One of her hands went for his wrist, nails digging in as she anchored herself. A whimper escaped her, muffled against the pillow as he buried himself deeper. The feeling of him inside of her was more satisfying than anything else she had experienced- Having her mate so close to her was a dream. She felt her inner walls flutter around him, welcoming him home.

Her reaction spurred him on, his hips starting to move in a slow, deep rhythm. Each thrust was measured, designed to make her feel as good as possible. It was all instinct at this point, knowing exactly how she liked it because they were designed in the stars to compliment each other. His forehead pressed against her shoulder, breath coming in short pants as he focused on the feeling of her wrapped around snugly him. "So fucking tight." He groaned, his fingers flexing on her soft skin. "Missed this. Missed you. Missed being inside my girl..." It didn’t matter if he had fucked her awake this morning, it was never enough. “So good.” His voice was ragged, filled with hints of that primal need that had been clawing at him all day long.

"Sweetest flower..." The Alpha breathed against her ear, thrusting slower but deeper. Each careful push hitting that spot inside her that made her mewl. His free hand slid down to toy with her clit, knowing exactly how sensitive she was there, feeling her tighten up around him as he found the swollen little thing. Her slick coated both his cock and fingers, the sound of their fucking filling the quiet room. "Feel how perfectly you take me? You were made just for me..." His teeth nipped at her neck, holding her in place while he continued to worship her body. “This pussy was made t’take this cock all the way in.”

"Harry..." She panted, her voice going up an octave. He knew that voice. Knew that she was getting there. Knew that she was loving how he filled her up. Her inner muscles tightened around his length, sucking him deeper. 

"Mmhmm?" He hummed, his fingers swirling around her clit faster. He knew her body better than she knew herself sometimes. Like how she liked to be touched. Like how she liked to be kissed. Like how she liked to be stretched around him. He could hear it in her voice every single time, the slight hitching, the way she was panting his name. He knew she was begging without actually begging. 

"You need something, petal?" He growled, his fingers pausing their swirling motion. "You need me deeper? Harder? More?" He flexed his hips experimentally, pushing a little deeper inside her. "You need me to mark you up again?" He licked over the side her neck, inhaling her scent deeply as it got thicker, sweeter with the arousal she leaked all over him.

The reaction was obvious to him as she clenched up around his cock, letting out a keening little whine. She wanted to be marked up, to be bitten again. Nothing would compare to the bond mark she had, but she loved the snap of pain. More marks and bruises on her to show how well loved and fucked she was. Just because she was sensitive and sweet didn’t mean she wasn’t just as  jealous and possessive as her mate.

Harry's response was immediate, his teeth sinking into the tender skin of her neck. He held her in place with his arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand gripping her hip as he fucked her harder, deeper. The bite was hard enough to leave a mark, his canines piercing her skin as he claimed her once more. "Mine. My perfect Blossom… All I ever need." The growl of his voice vibrated against her neck, hot breath panting against her. "Always mine." He sucked at the mark, his tongue soothing the bite before he bit her again, this time on the other side of her neck.

"F-Fuck..." She whimpered, the sharp stings of his bites making her clench around his cock with such intensity that he could barely hold himself back. She melted into him completely, one hand reaching up to grip his hair, nails digging into his scalp, pulling him closer. "Harry- I love you." The words were panted out as her hips moved with his rhythm, meeting each thrust desperately.

"Love you too, baby. So much." He kissed the marks, his hips snapping forward and back at a bruising pace. "Gonna fill you up, mark you inside and out." His fingers found her clit again, pinching and rolling the sensitive nub as he fucked her towards her building orgasm. "Cum f’me, Blossom. Squeeze my dick with that sweet little cunt. Show me who it belongs to." The order was low and commanding, his teeth nipping at her earlobe.

The sound of their flesh meeting filled the room along with her breathy moans and his gravelly growls. Every stroke of his cock felt like heaven, stretching and filling her completely. It was the way it was supposed to be, having him keep her full. His tongue grazed her new marks occasionally, sending jolts of pleasure and pain through her body.

His movements became more insistent, his cock swelling slightly. "Need your tight little pussy to milk me." His hand moved from her clit down to rub against the sensitive spot where they joined, feeling where his cock was stretching her open, where his knot had begun to slowly swell. "Need me to breed you deep and keep you filled?" His voice was raw with desire, knowing exactly what she craved. It’s precisely what she always wanted. His girl always wanted it, craved it just as much as he did.

"Mhm." She pushed back against him, taking him deeper. "Your knot, Harry..." She whined softly, spreading her thighs wider for him. "Want it inside me..." Her hips rolled back to meet his thrusts, her hole fluttering around him already. "Fill me up." She loved his knot. Loved how it stretched her out, how it locked them together, kept him as deep as he could get. It was possessive and dirty and she really, really loved it. “Harry-“ She moaned softly. “Want to be full of you. Please?”

"Fuck, my heart..." He groaned, his knot swelling larger as he fucked her with growing desperation. "Gonna lock you up with my knot. Give you what y’want." His voice was strained, words slipping off his tongue as he had no filter when he was inside of her. "Gonna make you cum on my dick, milk my knot. I'll keep you full of me all night. S’what you deserve." The thought of it was too much, his control snapping as he felt her slicked up pussy starting to convulse around him.

His knot swelled, thick and ready to take her as it pressed against her tight hole. Holding himself there for a moment, he savored the feeling of her, of her cunt trying to milk him for all he was worth- but he didn’t want to hold it from her any longer. With a grunt, he pushed forward, his knot seating itself inside her with a soft pop. He was trapped, locked inside her, unable to pull out even if he wanted to. And he never wanted to. He wanted to stay buried inside her, keeping her full and satisfied as he got to stay warm.

As his knot sealed them together, Y/N's orgasm crashed over her, her pussy clamping down around him like a vice as she let out a high pitched whine. "Fuck yes, cum on me. Give it all to me, my love." Harry groaned, grinding into her. He could feel her pulsing around him as he emptied himself deep inside her, marking her as thoroughly as possible. Each twitch of his cock sent another spurt of his seed flooding her, his hips making shallow grinding motions, ensuring every last drop stayed buried within her.

"Gods, you're the most beautiful thing to walk this plane of existence." He murmured, his lips finding her shoulder as his hips moved slowly, working them through it. "Look at you taking everything I give you...The most incredible woman alive. You are what I live for." Petting her hair back softly, his voice dropping lower as he felt her body relax around his knot. "Best I've ever had. You ruin me. I never want anything else."

She let out a soft little mewl, feeling the pulses of him emptying every drop in her. Intimacy like this was something she had never even fathomed, but it was everything needed. "Harry. My love." His name was like a purr, her body languid and happy. "You make me feel incredible. Always so sweet." Her voice was dreamy as she sunk into his embrace. "You know how to make me feel loved..." He made love to her body and her mind each and every time. I was impossible to not feel the adoration pouring off of him. "You always protect me. You are the best Alpha.” Turning her head, she met his eyes. “Kiss me, please.”

A soft, adoring smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he shifted slightly to catch her lips in a tender kiss. One hand remained possessively on her hip while the other caressed her face. "How could I not protect my perfect mate? My everything?" He murmured against her lips before deepening the kiss, showing her exactly how much she meant. If he could figure out a way to hang the stars in an order she found pleasing, he would do so. He would rearrange the hours in a day if he had the power. Never in his life had he found a motivator like she had become for him. He would change the entire world just to see the ghost of a smile on her perfect lips. He would move mountains, shift tectonic plates, and rewrite the laws of physics if it meant seeing her happy. "You are my reason, Blossom." He whispered against her lips, his voice filled with an overwhelming amount of love and devotion. "My reason for breathing, for living, for being. You own all of my love.”

[luvether]

۫ ꣑ৎ . HIS ULTRAVIOLENT PROSE. mydei

summary, even with half-bitten pomegranates between tongue, teeth and heart, the prince of Kremnos tries to make amends with you.

mydei x gn!reader. mildly lovers to enemies. tension and arguments. hurt with comfort. mentions of arranged marriage and eloping (love this trope with him) soft and gentle mydei, might be ooc. lore-inclined city-state ceremonies. [2.0k wc]

It’s merely an alliance ceremony.

And yet here you were, being dressed in foreign silks and heavy accessories. Compared to your usual attires the fabrics are lightweight, enough for a cold rush to scrape your skin despite the torch lit by the corner of your room.

Your face must’ve betrayed you, for the maidens that attended to you murmured about it being part of Kremnoan traditions and that you had to endure it, only with such a solid statement do you deflate, settling stiffly and defeatedly on the chair, allowing them to continue their decorations on you, to peel you bare of your sea-state city garments and pool Castrum Kremnos‘ silk clothes, sandals and cape over you.

At this very moment, you looked like a raw and beguiling warrior, a far cry of what you truly were, an ignorant coward.

“You look beautiful.” A more elderly woman speaks from behind, you stare at her through the vanity.

“…I look like a fighter.”

“Are you not?”

You hesitate to answer her, biting your lip to prevent yourself from speaking something you might regret.

Are you still labeled a fighter after losing your city to Castrum Kremnos?

You were anything but triumph, you lost your kingdom, your pride, your people—and only this alliance union can salvage whatever scraps of glory you have left, it's the only thing you could do for your folks since you disappointed them as their leader.

The elder woman’s hand lands softly on your shoulder, despite such a gentle manner you cannot help the flinch from echoing through your bones. Your nails bury into your palms.

“I assure you, young one, that shame is the last thing Castrum Kremnos would dare to offer you and your city-state.”

She pauses.

“Our prince would not dare such a thing from you.”

You wanted to laugh, to cry and scream and ruminate frustrations. But you swallow instead, “I see.”

You did not utter another word after that. The maidens have left long ago and you pondered with your own thoughts, recounting the gradual yesterdays you spent mourning over fallen friends and a broken city. You recounted tidbit memories of the remaining council that pushed you for this alliance—forcing you to succumb and kneel towards the very people that took your everything.

After all, as the last remaining royal blood, that’s the least you can do.

The Kremnos’ heavy bells finally billow, and you inhale sharply.

“It’s time for you to step into the ceremony hall, lord.”

And you stand, your heart heavy with pressure. When you followed a counselor towards your destination, the older man gave you a quick rundown of certain rules and traditions you needed to adhere to, you half-listened to the convoluted rules until the very last statement that catches your attention,

“At the end of the blessings, you are to share a cup of pomegranate juice with the one you are to join alliance with.” he starts,

“In this case, you are to drink from the same cup with the representative of our city, Kremnos’ prince Mydeimos.”

His name is an echo through the shell of your ears, leaving a bitter aftertaste between your teeth. You stopped listening after that, until you both faltered at the end of the corridor.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the large, looming doors split open, by now, the hall is packed and standing at the very front was the ceremony priest and Mydeimos himself, awaiting your arrival. When you step beside him on the podium, your gaze dare not shift towards the prince.

You let the withered voice of the priest wander you through the prayer, he lifts an iron chalice brimming with liquid as red as blood—you watch quietly as he lifts a smaller glass of honey, letting the golden liquid pool into the red cup before blessing the drink.

The priest turns to you, with a nod he beckons you to mirror the oath spoken. With parted lips, you follow along, pledging allegiance and alliance to Castrum Kremnos, “And with the glory of Strife and blood intertwined in allegiance with Castrum Kremnos, I, the succeeding lord of my city shall share the same devotion of valorous death before glorious return.”

You tilt your chin, lips pressed against the iron. The tangy yet thickly sweet taste of pomegranate rinses through your tastebuds. When the red liquid hits the middle line, you retract, turning towards the direction of the prince.

You look at him, only to find his heavy resin eyes already on you.

Mydeimos’ blank stare traces every bare action you do, and for a split moment you try to hold his weighty stare, trying to dissect his expression—trying to see what he thinks of the whole thing, and yet you find none.

You’ve dropped your gaze then, before extending the chalice in his direction. You slightly stir when you feel his fingertips brush your knuckles, you are quick to let go when he grabs ahold of the cup—too quickly.

How audacious, you cannot help but wonder when the priest speaks the same oath to him, Mydeimos recites it but his eyes never stray from you. Truly, he’s like a prowling lion assessing its prey.

There’s a prickling sensation of self-consciousness with such a look pinned on you.

“And with the glory of Strife and blood intertwined in allegiance with Castrum Kremnos, I, Mydeimos the succeeding prince of my city shall share the same devotion of valorous death before glorious return…” he rasps, then he downs the remainder within the chalice, his golden eyes still on you.

You cannot help yourself but settle your gaze on his exposed collarbones, laddering your way up the column of his neck where you watch the way his adam’s apple bobs at the swallow of the juice, a few clumsy droplets run down his jaw before he retreats and wipes it with the back of his hand.

The bells sound once, then twice at the successful union but your mind is a flurry of thoughts, though all of them stop at one concluding statement, you desperately need to get out of the banquet hall.

So when you’re finally released from your duties, instead of lingering and talking with the folks you spin around towards the exit. Nobody seemed to bat an eyelash at your hasty departure, nor was there anyone in the hallway outside which allowed you to break into a sprint—you don’t know where you’re going, quite frankly the layout of the city is still foreign to you, but you needed to get out of there.

At the fall of your impatient footsteps, you barely hear another set chasing after you.

Only until you feel larger hands gripping your waist do you stop.

“Where do you think you’re running off to?” You don’t need to turn to know who was speaking, the plates of his half-naked front are pressed hard against your back, it acted like a furnace almost.

“Unhand me.” You try to sound casual but it ends up in a bite. “This instant, Mydeimos—“

“And what?” He challenges back. “Let you run around like a headless goose until one of the counselors finds you? Do you wish for trouble that much?”

Instead of answering, you try to pry his hands around your waist. Your attempts are obviously futile however you are wracked with frustrations, fury and confusion. Your actions only fueled the prince’s impatience.

“Quit squirming—“

“Then let me go!” You try to glare at him. “I wish to be anywhere but in your arms right now—“

That must’ve struck a nerve.

Mydeimos’ grip on you only tightened, he pulls you towards an empty corner between the heavy flaps of curtains and presses you against the wall. His hand grips your jaw—but despite such a harsh action his hold on you remains feather-light, gentle.

His face draws close to your own, until you can feel his raspy voice on your cheek. At this distance, you can smell his scent of bonfire, tender smoke and something sweet, like pomegranates, he smelled awfully fruity.

“Says the one that wishes to marry me, isn’t that what you confessed to me months before?”

The jab brings heat to your cheeks, you lift your hand with the intent to slap him but Mydeimos captures your wrist before your palm could collide with his cheek. His thumb runs up from your wrist to your palm, intertwining your fingers together and laying it on the wall beside your head, his bangs brush your forehead, face so, so close that if you tilted your head your lips would be brushing his own,

“You wanted to elope with me.” Mydei tells you. “Have you forgotten? Or do you wish for me to tell you the exact words you told me that day.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this was before my city was attacked by your warriors!”

The tension hangs gauche, the silence between the two of you almost unbearable. The man before you sighs heavily, “There are a handful of things that are at my disposal, even with the title of prince—the issues of prophecies is something I cannot control.” Mydei soothes a thumb over the pulse in your wrists.

“You of all people are aware of this fact.” he pauses. “Or maybe you weren’t, after all the sea-side states are nonbelievers, you and your people don’t revere the Titans, only the arithmetics and logarithms of the world.”

“You're right, I wasn’t.” You snap. “I did not know Castrum Kremnos was prophesied to destroy my home, Mydeimos. If I had known, I wouldn’t have uttered such preposterous words to you, I was made out to be an ignorant fool because of it.”

Mydeimos’ whole demeanor takes a polar shift, you’re unsure why those eyes had melted like butter, was it your shaky voice, the pitiful wallow in your tone? Or did he truly feel an ounce of empathy for your situation?

“You're not an ignorant fool.” He lets go of your wrist but his body remains pressed up against your own, despite the position his body heat grounded you, especially with his follow up of, “to me, you’re the wisest person I know. A leader with a heart of gold, I apologize for causing you so much agony and for being unable to aid you when you need it most.”

He takes your hand, smearing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish to make amends with you but if you hold such vengeance in your heart—” he tugs your wrist, digging your fingers to his chest just above his heart. “You can scratch my heart out and kill me, stab me in the back for as long as you want if it means your desires would be satiated, then so be it.“

“…Mydeimos.” To say you were shocked was an understatement.

He softly bumps his forehead with your own. “Do you hate me, kardia mou?”

This was the very reason why you fell for him, the prince from the city of warriors. Despite the harshness of his textures and tones, when it came to you, he was honest and open. Those universal stone-cold expressions fissure as soon as he sees a glimpse of you in the distance. He spoke in uncharacteristic gentleness and his fleeting skinships sent butterflies within your chest. You cannot be angry with him, much less hate when he acts like this.

You feel him interlace your fingers, weaving his own with yours. Then he leans down once again, pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth, the intent of apology willing to spill from the nonexistent gaps between the two of you. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes turn glassy. Maybe it was due to Mydeimos’ comfort that every drowning pressure that you’ve bottled up comes cracking at the seams.

A sob spills between your lips.

“I don’t hate you, Mydei.” Your voice trembles when he tips your chin towards him, brushing his thumbs over the tear staining down your cheeks. “Truthfully, it is I that I loathe the most, not you—never you.”

“So please, never say that I find thrill in killing you.”

Mydei’s hand comes tangling through your tendrils, you weep on his collarbones, his woody scent engulfing you in comfort.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “I’ll never speak of such a thing to you, so cease your cryings, my love.”

[sorryimananti-romantic]

The Leaders | Chapter IV

"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, illegal businesses, mentions of violence, war/military and weapons, almost car accident, maknaes are finally introduced! wholesome interactions with the maknaes, hongjoong is the unintentional tease, yunho is the intentional tease, yeosang is the oblivious tease.

chapter wc: 12k

chapter synopsis: you accompany hongjoong to the station and meet inspector gong in regards to a drug case. you plant baits and grab lunch at the bar with hongjoong. hongjoong convinces you to become his secretary with words of affirmation. you finally go to meet the rest of the crescents at the warehouse but a sudden attack makes you wonder if you’re worth all the trouble you’ll bring the crescents, though yunho is there to make you feel better.

prev chapter recap: yunho verifies with kihyun that secretary park is not the man for their new deal. hongjoong notices how secretary park is not surprised to hear that they are aware of his dealings with foreigners– with strictland. he makes the connection and realises that you are the illegitimate daughter of secretary park. no longer having to hide your identity, you candidly discuss with yunho about the strictland nuclear base and who might be involved if it’s presumably inactive status is a lie. you start to handle the illegal side of the business as well and one night, save yunho from an attack which ends up shifting your relationship with him. he overwhelms and confuses you with his casual manner and you go find solace in yeosang’s office (and arms).

With Jihoon away on business at the Sector 1 port, accompanying Seonghwa to oversee the illegal departure of Black Shadow to Mist Island, the midday slot was packed with just you and Eunha to take care of the reports and to deal with the aftermath of the police’s initial investigation after receiving a false tip about drug dealing. You confirmed that the Crescents were not involved but the damage has been done. Apparently, some inspectors had always been on the Crescent’s tail, ready to catch them in the act, waiting for a chance to see the Crescent’s slip. While it was frustrating to hear that the police weren’t doing their job properly, your annoyance only magnified when you learned that they were demanding that one of the Crescents visit the station to clear things up. 

Since Yunho was occupied at the port with Seonghwa, making sure the illegal shipment left Eden waters safe and unnoticed, that left Hongjoong in the office and San and Yeosang at the bar. Hongjoong decided that he needed to set the record straight with the police and decided to use this opportunity to shift their attention elsewhere. With a clear plan in his head, he exited his room and spotted you working alongside Eunha. 

And when your gaze connected with his, you found him already pointing his finger in your direction.

“You. You’re coming with me.”

You frowned in confusion, pointing at yourself and he nodded in confirmation, ordering ‘downstairs in 2 minutes!’, before disappearing down the stairs, leaving you to process the command on your own.

“Just go– I’ll take care of this,” Eunha assured you and you took a deep breath, grabbed your net gloves and coat, and made your way downstairs. The boss was already at the door waiting with his umbrella– it was raining quite heavily outside. You picked your own from the stand by the doorway, hurriedly getting inside his car that was already at the front of the office– the latest Bentley model befitting the boss of the Crescent Company. Taeyong, Hongjoong’s bodyguard, was driving and he greeted the two of you. 

“We’re going to the station, by the way,” Hongjoong told you when you got comfortable and you appreciated that he gave you a heads-up. “There’s still someone on our case and I have to talk to a certain inspector anyway. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.”

“Right. Are you sure you have to go personally?” You asked. “I mean… if it’s not necessary someone else could go in your stead?”

“Inspector Gong only seems to listen to me,” Hongjoong scoffed, looking outside at the pattering rain. There seemed to be an old connection with the inspector, but then again, the Crescents probably knew every single person who lived at least in Sector 1. Your brows quirked at the familiar name. Where had you heard it? 

“I’m thinking I might point him towards General Wi,” Hongjoong continued, this time locking eyes with you. “If he starts investigating in that direction, it should eventually lead him to Secretary Park.”

“It’s quite easy to silence someone though– especially a cop. Their loyalty lies with money,” you reminded him. “I’ve seen officers give in to as little as 60 krodus.”

You had personally witnessed your brother Sunghoon bribe an officer who caught him smoking some drugs in a deserted alley. That was when you started to keep tabs on your brother, hoping to find his weakness. Instead, you found him handing that little amount with a  pat to the officer. You tried to justify it– perhaps, the officer needed to buy a good meal for his children, but your respect for officers significantly declined afterwards.

“Not all of them,” Hongjoong smirked. “Inspector Gong’s morals seem to be his downfall.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” you shifted your focus to Hongjoong. “For the leader of a criminal organisation, you’re quite a man of morals yourself.”

Hongjoong considered that, his brow arching as he hummed in response. “What exactly did an Edenary citizen think Ateez was?”

“Not so organised, for starters,” you admitted and he shook his head in amusement. “More like a street gang?”

“We were once a street gang,” Hongjoong confirmed. “Just like Kihyun’s gang. You’re very familiar with them– was it a surprise that we operate like them?”

“Well, I never got to hear much about their street gang period before they became a respectable organisation,” you replied. “I’ve always just known them to be owners of MX Pharmaceuticals. Crescent, however…”

“Let’s hear what’s on your mind,” Hongjoong urged you to continue when he noticed that you were restraining yourself from saying more. “Come on, I’ve been called worse than ‘a man with morals’.”

“Just never expected you to have some really strict ones, that’s all I’m saying,” you raised your hands in surrender. “It’s kind of admirable. And you’re also really misunderstood.”

“Or maybe you’ve only seen the good parts yet. Ever wonder about that?” 

Well, you thought. That was one way to put it. You dared a look at the boss who was fiddling with his pocket watch– a golden little thing with an hourglass etched on its cover. He caught you staring at it and smiled. 

“Do you want to know who gave me this watch?” Hongjoong asked and you blinked in surprise at the question– you both had rarely ever talked outside of work so this was new. You nodded in answer, genuinely wanting to hear the story behind this watch because it seemed to be a part of his personality.

“I was a part of Major General Wi’s squad during the war,” he said and a surprised ‘oh’ erupted from your mouth as your brain tried to connect the dots. “During the war, I had to let go of a lot of things to think like a true strategist. I had to consider every option and not let sentiments waver me. A lot of decisions that I made during that time cost us lives. I may have been honoured in the end because every decision I made was for the ‘greater good’, but if I was a man of morals, Luna, I would have done things a bit differently.”

For a few moments, you let the familiar pitter-patter of the rain fill the silence of the car following Hongjoong’s admission. You recalled what Kihyun had said about Ateez. Children of war. They had to let their innocence go when they got drafted due to the ‘over-17’ law that ensured all capable individuals over the age of 17 served in the war. They were only teenagers when they went to the war, to fight for their land, but when they returned…

“Is that why you keep your watch with you?” You finally asked. “To remind yourself that you’re not all that moral?”

“Kind of,” Hongjoong shrugged nonchalantly.

“I think it could also be a reminder that you are aware of the fact that you made those decisions. Do they keep you up at night?”

“Often,” he admitted with a slow but sure nod. There was no shame in admitting that the horrors of war kept you up at night when everyone had experienced the same. 

“That’s a good sign,” you told him. “Because some of the elites who controlled the tides of war at the backend, who are the real reason Eden lost so many lives… they sleep like babies at night. They carry no remorse or guilt. And my moral compass says that those kinds of humans are no different than animals.”

The boss nodded slowly. He knew that it was true but hearing those words from you somehow left a warm, tingling sensation through his chest. 

You noticed how he zoned out and let him be until you spotted the station. “We’re here,” you gently said, bringing him out of his trance. He nodded, dropping the watch back inside his pocket and Taeyong stopped the car, opening the door for Hongjoong. It wasn’t raining as hard now, just a light shower so you both didn’t bother to open the umbrella, though Hongjoong took his inside, hand covering the gold eagle hilt.

You stayed right by his side as you navigated through the musky smelling corridors of the station. It looked like everyone recognised Hongjoong. They either stepped aside and merged with the shadows, essentially clearing the path for him, or scrambled forward to greet him over-enthusiastically. You pursed your lips in amusement– it was clear what sort of relationship he had with each officer. 

One of the officers saluted military-style and Hongjoong saluted back. He led you to what you assumed was Inspector Gong’s office and you seated yourselves on the chairs in the small, haphazard room.

“The Inspector will be here shortly. Would you like a drink in the meanwhile, Colonel? Coffee or tea?”

“I’m good, thank you,” Hongjoong said and you shook your head in answer as well. He waited until the officer left before saying, “Their coffee has to be the most stale beverage I’ve ever had the misfortune of trying.”

You half-smiled. “Can’t expect much from a station that looks like this,” you pointed at the peeling paint on the walls and the rough furniture in the room, if you could look past the initial shock of all the disorganization of the reports, boxes and documents. “Was that someone you knew from the military?”

“No,” Hongjoong said. “But he probably recognises me.”

“And the people who recognised you but scurried away like rats?”

“They recognise me better,” Hongjoong smirked and you smiled in resignation. 

A few moments later, a middle-aged man with a pile of folders managed to get inside the room without help and set the pile on the desk with a thud, grunting in exhaustion. He ran a hand through his wavy dark hair and muttered something about how it had been awfully busy lately before brushing his simple, creased clothes and straightening.

“I see you made it here.” He cast a wary glance at Hongjoong.  

“Better than you coming at mine and poking at everything, trying to find a snark,” Hongjoong mocked and you would have found it amusing had you not been staring at the inspector, finding him oddly familiar. He scanned you slowly and his brows wrinkled.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“I don’t think so?” You weren’t sure.

“She’s my new secretary,” Hongjoong said, glancing at you for a second before turning his attention to the inspector. “Now… what’s this new mess your cops have involved us in?”

“Oh, the drug dealing,” Inspector Gong finally took a seat. “You don’t have to worry about it too much. I found another lead just now so you’re off the hook.”

Hongjoong grunted in annoyance. “Should’ve sent a message then.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you were so eager to clear your name for once,” Inspector Gong said curtly. “We don’t want it to affect your new deal, after all.”

“Whatever might you be talking about?” Hongjoong feigned ignorance but the way the two were smiling at each other, you were sure the communication didn’t need words.

“Who knows? Anyways, I heard you have something interesting for me, which is new. Let’s hear it.”

“Maybe I just came here so I could see you,” the boss teased and Inspector Gong’s smile fell– he was beginning to get tired now. You stifled a smile at your boss’ antics. “Alright, I’ll tell you. You might want to send your leads regarding the drug case to the Edenary Station. And while you’re at it, you might want to take a look at what Park Pharmaceuticals have been up to lately.”

“Park Pharmaceuticals? Park Byung Eun, isn’t that the President's secretary?”

“That’s right,” Hongjoong confirmed. “I heard the drug that you found recently is something new. It’s not uncommon to look into every pharmaceutical company, isn’t that so? Our company, MX, we’re only distributors for now, so you should be looking into companies that actually manufacture.”

“I’m sure someone acquainted with the president won’t have his people using drugs illegally,” Inspector Gong said. “Or he might not be aware that it’s happening. It’s a big company and he can’t have everything under control.”

“Maybe you just need to focus on the source of the drug rather than look for consumers or distributors,” you quipped. Inspector Gong looked at you with curiosity.

“And what’s your name, Miss?”

“Jeon y/n,” you said. “Also, while you investigate… maybe check if some of Assemblyman General Wi’s men have been consuming those drugs. I’m not saying he’s at fault, but like you said earlier, they are a big gang in Edenary and it’s not uncommon for gang members to deal drugs. Right?” You looked at Hongjoong who was stifling a smile. He nodded subtly in your direction.

Inspector Gong watched you two with interest. “Okay. If you insist. Though you might be trying to throw me off the scent.”

“I never said you didn’t have to keep looking into us,” Hongjoong raised his hands in surrender. “But maybe… broaden your horizons a bit.”

With that, Hongjoong got up and you followed. As soon as you both settled in the car, Hongjoong snickered at you. You raised a brow in question.

“Good job there. I can see why the boys have taken a liking to you.”

You couldn’t keep your cheeks from flushing at the remark. You shrugged in answer. “Has he always been stationed here?”

“He was demoted from the Edenary Station a few years ago, actually,” Hongjoong said. “Do you recognise him?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t recall,” you admitted and he nodded. “Do you think he will find something out of this wild goose chase?”

“Definitely. All he needs is a whiff– he’s a hound,” Hongjoong shook his head. “Once he gets a scent of something, he won’t let go until he’s satisfied.”

“Sounds like a person you should keep close,” you commented and Hongjoong agreed. 

“Your shift is over, right? Did you have lunch yet?” Hongjoong asked and you shook your head no. “I’m going to the bar– I have a few things to discuss with Yeosang and San. You can stay and have lunch with us, if you would like.”

Have lunch with the boss? 

“If you’re going to be our new secretary,” Hongjoong teased– a little joke Seonghwa had a habit of making that you should be Hongjoong’s personal secretary, “You should get used to travelling around with me.”

“You can’t seriously be considering that,” you gave him a wan smile. Hongjoong only grinned in answer, taking that as a yes.

The ride to the bar had you sorting out everything you had learned today. Hongjoong’s connection with Assemblyman General Wi was interesting, especially considering that Hongjoong served under him during the war. Inspector Gong’s familiar face and the fact that he was an Edenary citizen was also something you couldn’t simply dismiss.

Before you knew it, the short trip was over and you were outside the bar. Now that the sky was clearing, Hongjoong clicked a button on his umbrella to extract a cane from it before getting out of the car. You had seen the cane on him sometimes, a beautiful black thing with a golden eagle hilt. You were half sure it was also some sort of a weapon.

Upon entering, the employees greeted their boss and lit up at the sight of you, their old coworker. You greeted them back with equal enthusiasm, taking their jokes and teasing jabs because you with the boss!? Hongjoong went straight to Yeosang’s office and you followed behind him, shutting the door while the men shared a brief hug.

Yeosang was surprised to see you two together. “How come?” 

“Thought I’d take our little bookkeeper around and show her how things work around here,” Hongjoong said, taking off his coat and hanging it on the stand. You did the same, feeling a bit awkward due to Hongjoong’s presence– it had always been you and Yeosang, or San. 

And well… after your little moment with Yeosang that drunken night, it was your first time seeing him. Now in a deep brown sweater with the sleeves rolled to bare his muscular forearms, his expectant gaze as he looked at you, tendrils of brown hair falling over his face– it wasn’t helping you at all.

Yes. You definitely needed a break.

Yeosang nodded at you in acknowledgement, failing to contain his smile– he was bad at hiding his emotions and Hongjoong just knew that he was pleased to see you here. You took a seat next to Hongjoong in front of the desk.

“So, Luna,” Yeosang started. “How has it been so far? Want to come back to your previous post?”

“Sounds tempting because your boss thinks I can handle more workload,” you pointed at Hongjoong with your thumb and he shook his head.

“Ay, don’t be like that now. I’m keeping her, Yeosang. She knows what she’s doing and I like that.”

You accepted your fate with a dejected sigh and the two shared a laugh. The boys recollected the events since the last time they met while they waited for San to arrive. You noticed how they shared even the trivial things–

“I ate lunch at BB Trippin’ yesterday. You have to try their ramen– I swear I haven’t had such a ramen in ages.”

“Seonghwa and I lost a bet to Yunho and we now owe him 5 krodus. That lucky bastard always wins.”

With the waiter’s call indicating San’s arrival, you shifted to Room no. 1 where San was making sure there was enough food and drinks and at the sight of his boss, he lit up, coming forward to hug him briefly. 

And then he saw you and lit up even more, making you laugh a bit. You settled down on the very chair you had sat when Seonghwa had passed his judgement on you– only a few weeks had passed since then but a lot had changed. San’s presence, however, still comforted you just as much as it did before.

As did Yeosang’s, but… it held a weird note today.

While you ate lunch and caught up with each other, Yeosang, who was sitting next to you, nudged you with his elbow and you glared at him, the warning in it melting when you saw the apples of his cheek become more prominent as he tried to stifle a smile. “So… how have you been?”

“I’m right in front of you, Yeosang,” you said as casually as you could. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Missed me?”

“Hmm… not really, no,” you responded, putting a spoonful of rice in your mouth as he smirked. “I’ve been far too busy to think of you.”

“So you do think about me,” he teased.

“It would be unnatural to not think of you,” you feigned normalcy again but Yeosang wasn’t having any of it.

“Say, when do I get the tipsy Luna back? I don’t think I’m a fan of the sober Luna…”

“Tipsy Luna is on leave,” you said. “You can forget her.”

“You don’t mean that, do you?” Yeosang’s voice was low this time and you looked at him, finding caution and hurt– was it hurt? In his eyes.

“Of course not,” you frowned. “Did you miss me that much?”

He relaxed. “I thought I made a mistake.”

“Oh,” you paused, making sure Hongjoong and San weren’t listening. Oh. 

He thought he did something wrong and you were avoiding him.

“Yeosang, I–”

“Isn’t that right, Luna?” Hongjoong called your name, grabbing your attention and you passed Yeosang a look that you hoped conveyed ‘we’ll talk later’ before you turned your attention to the boss.

“I was just saying how it was a good idea to take you along at the station,” Hongjoong repeated, glancing between you and Yeosang. “Inspector Gong seems to have taken the bait.”

“Ah, yes,” you nodded, straightening. “I think we might have to make sure he catches some of General Wi’s men with the drugs that are under investigation. And we might have to somehow create a link between those drugs and the drugs registered under Park Pharmaceuticals. After that, the boat will float itself.”

“I’ll have Wooyoung take care of that,” San said. “He knows a lot of street druggies. They’re on his beck and call.”

The man in charge of the manufacturing side of the business along with the youngest of the Crescents– Mingi and Jongho. Yeosang and San often talked about Wooyoung. He was Yeosang’s friend from before they went to the war. While you hadn’t had a chance for personal interactions with the younger ones, they often came at the bar as a group. They knew who you were, called you Luna just like everyone else and would strike up some work-related conversation with you if they weren’t teasing or flirting with you, which seemed to be second-nature to them.

“Does Wooyoung’s street druggies network extend to Edenary?” You asked, an idea nagging at you– an old memory you couldn’t let go of. 

San hummed in thought. “Probably?”

“What are you thinking?” Yeosang narrowed his eyes and you looked at Hongjoong who was anticipating your answer.

“Park Sunghoon, my brother, was an addict. My father went through hell and back to get him to stop, but chances are he’s still addicted but just learned to look, well, normal.”

Hongjoong looked at Yeosang triumphantly. “There’s a reason I’m keeping her close.”

Yeosang looked a little proud to hear that and he asked you, “Do you know which drugs exactly was he consuming? Or some details?”

“It was a street dealer, that’s all I caught,” you told him. “Bad company, apparently. Last time I saw him, he appeared more polished than before, but I recognise the look in his eyes when he’s high.”

They didn’t miss your sombre tone, neither did they miss the sudden fiddling of your fingers. However, they decided not to comment on it– for now. It was Hongjoong who cleared his throat. “It’s ironic that the heir to Park Pharmaceuticals is a drug addict himself. I’ll get someone to look into it. Inspector Gong would have a field day once he learns about this.”

You passed a weak smile, willing yourself to not recall your brother’s bad behaviour whenever he was high. Sure, he was your half-brother, but he wanted nothing to do with you. Sometimes you wondered if he was the one who pegged your father to change your surname and wipe you off the family registers. It wouldn’t be a surprise if that was the case.

You all finished your lunch, planning a bit more on how to lead Inspector Gong to Sunghoon before you decided to leave first. You told Yeosang you would grab your coat from his office and leave but he decided to see you off– for obvious reasons.

Once inside his office, you found him watching you with folded arms. You wore your black coat over your clothes, huffing at him.

“Did I do or say something wrong that night?” Yeosang asked.

“No. Why would you think that?” 

“You look like you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not,” your gaze softened. “I’m just… I don’t know, Yeosang. I’m confused, if you can’t tell. I don’t know what I’m looking for, and the fact that you’re worried about what I think about you isn’t helping.”

Yeosang licked his lips, trying to come up with a response to that. He was perhaps as confused as you. Had you both inevitably blurred the lines of who you were? While you worked together, you would dismiss such interactions, but now that you stopped working here, who exactly were you to Yeosang? What was your relationship? You had been boss and employee all this time. Friends, perhaps, but never called it so. And now…

You stepped forward, placing your hand on his bare folded arms for assurance. You wished you had placed it on his heart instead. “You’re still who you are to me and more.”

“Who am I to you?” Yeosang asked, a faint smile on his lips.

“Hmm… favourite boss?” You grinned. “Friend?”

Yeosang nodded. “That’s it?”

“More?” You raised a brow. “I mean… what exactly did you do that would warrant more?”

“Is that a challenge, Luna?” He was smirking now and your heart did a little flip-flop at the way the timbre of his voice shifted.

“Maybe… pretty boy,” you flicked his chest, unable to resist and with a giggle, sneaked past him outside, saying a goodbye before you disappeared, because you were positive that you were worse when sober.

You did look back once, finding Yeosang laughing wholeheartedly at your passing figure and you ingrained the sight in the deepest crevice of your heart.

Kim Hongjoong may be a man of few words, but god, was he a man capable of making decisions on the spot and taking swift action. It was no wonder that he was the man who had built his empire of this scale in such a short period of time. All it took was one meeting about the discrepancies in the import cost of the metal in the Utopian trade, and Hongjoong immediately decided to cut down on the amount of metal, using his connections to cover the shortage of metal with local suppliers and saving a couple thousand krodus in the process. 

Apparently, there were other gangs that dealt with weapons production and supplied arms illegally around Eden. The Crescents were better off striking a deal with another gang who possessed the metal alloy they required, or something similar in nature to that metal. Hongjoong acknowledged your efforts for dealing with the matter smoothly.

That led to Seonghwa starting to include you in their meetings now, ‘preparing you’ for personal secretary work. You considered asking him if it was just an excuse to get information out of you (and who knows? maybe dispose of you later) but you figured it was a joke. They couldn’t be serious (right?) and you were doing a fine job as a bookkeeper anyway, providing your input since you were from Edenary and you knew a lot of people– and their weaknesses. They thought it was impressive that Secretary Park had rarely ever involved you in his business yet you had built your own connections and learnt so much about the way Eden operated.

Since there were rumours going around that Secretary Park had been ‘rejected by a mafia gang’, it caught the attention of some investors who were willing to collaborate on a drug launch. Though you still had little to no idea about the drug specifically, the Crescents heard your opinion on the willing parties and you expressed your lack of trust in most of the politicians. That left a few businessmen and you supposed they could do with one of them– someone who was willing to fund properly. The Crescents would just have to make a promising offer.

That left finding out more about Secretary Park’s foreign dealings. You had suggested sending an anonymous tip to General Wi about Secretary Park’s possible connection to Strictland and Yunho got the job done a few days ago. As intended, General Wi traced the tip back to the Crescents and sent a message that he would like to have a meeting with the boss.

“He’s going to be curious about the source,” Hongjoong had a faint smirk on his lips as if calculating all the possibilities of how the world could shift from here. You shifted uncomfortably on the chair in front of him. Hongjoong was watching you with interest. “Do you think we should bring you along to the meeting?”

“General Wi likes to play a diplomat. He would tell my father that I was here once he finds out my connection with him, and then–”

“And then what?” Hongjoong challenged, resting his chin on his hand, elbow propped on his desk. With his other hand, he turned the hourglass, watching the sand trickle down slowly. “It’s only a matter of time that your father finds out that you’ve been talking. Chances are, he is already aware of your new post and will be trying to silence you soon. You should be making your stance clear too, Luna.”

“That would be a declaration of war to him,” you said.

“Have you not been told that you are under the protection of the Crescents from now on?” Hongjoong raised a brow in question. You nodded. “Then I don’t see the problem. Being under our protection entails that we will make sure you remain safe and unharmed.”

“You may have been a gang in the past, Mr. Kim,” you said in a low voice. “But my father also has various gangs at his disposal. Mr. Jeong almost got killed that night.”

“Oh, you’re underestimating him if you think it’s that easy to kill him,” Hongjoong scoffed. “He’s avoided death far too many times to be simply called lucky now.”

You shrugged– that might be true but that did not help you feel any better.

“We are part of the underworld and always will be, y/n, no matter how posh we try to appear,” Hongjoong began. “We are the leaders of the underworld– the underworld that no one escapes from. Secretary Park has always operated from above and he does not know how we play. He may try to get to us with his little gangs or whatever, but he is a man of light.”

“And you are a man of the shadows,” you completed for him. He nodded. “If I join you at the meeting, Major General Wi will think that I am someone of importance– he might even recognise me.”

“Well, aren’t you?” He asked almost nonchalantly. You sighed– they sure had been taking you around everywhere and getting you more acquainted with the business, but was your role in the Crescents this important now? 

“I meant to remain in the shadows, Mr. Kim. It was never my intention to step in the light for the world to see.”

“You said you wanted a better life,” Hongjoong locked eyes with you. “A way to avenge the life that was stolen from you because you were too helpless and could do nothing except be pushed wherever your father wanted.”

“Not only that,” you admitted. “My conscience does not allow me to know that my father may be doing something immoral and detrimental to this nation and do nothing about it. I have wasted far too many opportunities because I feared the consequences.”

“And now?” 

“Now you’re telling me not to be afraid,” you rested your back on the chair in resignation. “Now you’re telling me to involve myself with you.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” Hongjoong’s smile revealed that he might be hiding something. You knew that– they were dangerous. It was better for you to be with them than to stand against them, but could you follow their journey without looking back? Could you swear loyalty to them?

“It was never your intention to step out in the light and fight for yourself, or for Eden, or for your conscience, but y/n… maybe you were meant to rule from the light and the shadows both.”

You looked at Hongjoong in surprise. He watched you with a certain fondness– his little bookkeeper, he still called you. You could understand why Jaemin and even some others referred to him as ‘the Captain’– he cared and accounted for each one of them. These men… they heard you. They did everything they had to to protect themselves and their family. And now…

Now Kim Hongjoong said that you were a part of their group, and he would have you rule from the light and back you from the shadows if you wished to. 

“I’m just a bookkeeper though, aren’t I?” you said but couldn’t stop your lips from curling into a smile.

“Maybe I’ll start calling you my little secretary from now on. How does that sound?” 

“Oh, no,” you shook your head. “The workload.”

Hongjoong burst out laughing and you looked down to hide your smile– he had such a carefree, almost childish laugh. You thought about his remark and figured that it must have been Seonghwa’s doing. You knew that Seonghwa was planning something and he had hinted this quite often but to actually be Mr. Kim’s secretary? Was he pulling your leg or was he serious?

“I’m serious,” he confirmed as if he saw right through you. “I need one especially now that I’m going to be stepping into the light too. I’ve operated from the shadows for long enough. Who better to have by my side than someone who knows how the underworld of the elites operate?”

“I’m not sure if I’m the right person,” you said. “I’m from Edenary, yes, and I do know how things work there, but I’ve never been much involved.”

“But so far… you’ve not betrayed our trust once, and that is something I value a lot, Luna. You prevented a disaster when you ran away with the content of Yeosang’s locker that night. You stopped a deal that would have ended very badly for us. And you put yourself in danger to save Yunho– I don’t know who else I would want by my side if not you.”

“That is a high compliment,” you took a deep breath, overwhelmed by his proposition. 

“You’re still willing to do so much more,” Hongjoong said, outstretching his hand on the table and you were confused for a moment before you realised that he was waiting for you. You frowned– while Seonghwa had always been casual with his affection, much like a boss with a pat to the shoulder that he often gave to everyone else too, and Yunho had been, well, purposely making you jumpy you were sure, the boss had never done much. Every action of his was motivated by something.

And this might be his attempt at persuasion.

Hongjoong raised a brow as if to ask if you were going to keep making him wait and you rolled your eyes before hesitantly placing your hand in his palm. Hongjoong noticed the pause and almost smirked. His hand was cold but comforting when it held yours. 

“You’re still willing to do so much more for Eden,” Hongjoong repeated. “I’m doing all I can for Eden too. We share the same goal, Luna. Don’t ever think that it is a shame that you couldn’t do anything about it earlier– you did everything in your power. You can leave it to me now. All you have to do is stay by our side.”

You must have looked half-convinced because he continued.

“I’m not saying you have to be the secretary yet– I would like you to fully know what it is that we do, and I would like the rest of the boys to meet you and hear their opinion too. I may be the boss but their word is equally as important as mine.”

“A captain, then?” You offered and he grinned. 

“Yeosang did well choosing you,” Hongjoong said and your heart fluttered at the mention of him– the actions of that drunken night were keeping you awake in your sober ones. “San speaks highly of you. Yunho, well… I think his intentions are clear. And Seonghwa is the one who convinced me to look at you.”

You raised your brow at his wording– sometimes, the way they spoke with so much implication behind their words made you wonder just what was going on inside their heads. Especially Hongjoong– he knew what he was talking about but he always concealed his intentions carefully. 

And you were going to make him more direct with his words. With a caress to his fingers, you locked eyes with him. 

“Well… you’re looking at me now, Captain. Do you like what you see?”

For once, he was caught in surprise, his brow raising involuntarily and you grinned inwardly.  There was nothing more satisfying than having the leader of this establishment speechless. The person you thought was a scary, stuck-up individual with his even scarier military rankings, turned out to be just a man with big dreams for his people and his land.

Hongjoong raised your joined hands in answer. You bowed your head mockingly. 

What a turn of events.

When Seonghwa said that he would like you to accompany him to the warehouse so you could meet the rest of the Crescents officially as a potential secretary to Kim Hongjoong and, well, a ‘crucial unit’ of the Crescents, you didn’t think he would actually let you take a peek at the illegal– or the underworld side of the business.

It was just another dusky day in Sector 1, a bit livelier inside the office than usual during the midday slot. Johnny dropped by and while he waited for Yunho, he struck up a conversation with the three of you– more like recount the events of the night you were attacked at the bar and tell Eunha and Jihoon all about how you had looked like a lost mouse while running away with the content of Yeosang’s locker. He went as far to tell them how you looked even worse when you came out of the meeting room. If it weren’t for Yunho interrupting him, Johnny might have done a reenactment.

You were about to sign off for the day after lunch with Eunha and Jihoon when Seonghwa called you in his office and told you about his plans for the day. You agreed to accompany him to the warehouse, having no other prior engagements until your night shift. With Seonghwa’s bodyguard and assistant Yuta, the three of you took his Ford to the outskirts of Sector 1 near the Sector 8 border. It was only a few miles from the Sector 1 Port so the ride took about forty minutes.

It was surprising how comfortable Seonghwa made that ride for you. He talked about his family and told you that he had two siblings and that his family had moved to Utopia before the war began. His father was already a war veteran and an influential person so he had little to no trouble leaving to protect his family– however, since Seonghwa was of age, he had no choice but to get drafted. You asked him if he missed his family and visited them often but he told you it had been quite a while since he saw them and would like to pay a visit soon, once things settle down here a bit.

Somehow, you found yourself telling him about the time you spent in Wonderland, something you hadn’t really talked about ever since you came back. While the woman you looked after– Madame Cha, wasn’t your aunt by blood, she was someone really wise and with a lot of knowledge to share. You often wondered if your father was aware that Madame Cha would make sure that you learnt everything needed to survive in this sick world as an independent woman. She taught you various practical skills, kept you busy and kept your mind away from home. Perhaps, that was the purpose all along, but even if it was, you were still grateful to her.

Seonghwa asked you more about Wonderland, mentioning that he always wanted to visit the country. Wonder City, the capital, was known for its ruins. It was a place rich with history and the people had done a lot to preserve it. The lavender fields which were symbolic of Wonder City only added to its beauty. It had truly been a healing sight for eyes and you told him that you missed the evening walks through those fields the most. 

The scenery shifted from cityscape to factories while you chatted, Yuta joining occasionally– apparently, he was one of the oldest employees and had served in Seonghwa’s unit so the two had almost always been together. You liked that most of the employees were more like ‘friends’ than acquaintances. Johnny was quite the example of just how casual they were with each other. While Yuta was a bit more reserved than Johnny, he was still a very charming man.

One of the factories towards the end of the expressway to Sector 8 was what the Crescents addressed as ‘the warehouse’. It belonged to Pledis Manufacturers where the Crescents were major shareholders and business partners. As the car came to a stop near the building, you heard the sounds of laughter reverberating from the inside accompanied by the harsh sound of machines and metal clanging. There were tables and chairs lining the margins and a few men could be seen eating what you presumed was their lunch. At the sight of your car, they got up and gathered around, making way to you and Seonghwa laughed to himself, shaking his head.

“Easy, boys. We’ve got a guest.”

“Oh, what a sight for sore eyes,” a man of medium stature wearing a casual denim outfit placed his hand over his chest as he bowed dramatically, making you a bit shocked though laughter erupted from your mouth. “I’m Boo Seungkwan, Manager of Pledis Manufacturers, at your service.”

“Pleasure,” you bowed back mockingly, noticing the others dressed just as casually. 

“That’s Seokmin,” he introduced the tall guy with a contagious smile, and then pointed to another handsome man. “That’s Jun. We’re all managers here.”

The three exchanged looks filled with caution but Seonghwa nodded to let them know it was alright. “They play a vital role in the production part of the business.”

“Lovely,” you said, following Seonghwa inside and waving back at the three men who were almost jumping up and down while they waved at you. You laughed again, falling in step with Seonghwa. “Do they not get to go home often?”

“Oh, them?” Seonghwa scoffed. “They go home every weekend, but that’s normal behaviour from them.”

You smiled but it changed into a wince when you got hit with a wave of heat and the smell of metal and sweat filled your nostrils upon entering the warehouse, the dim lights making it a bit hard to focus. When your eyes finally adjusted, you gasped at the setup– it was truly something. The centre was an open, double-heighted space with the heaviest machines and Seonghwa told you that the main factory was situated at the very back which was connected to this section by a gate. The upper story seemed to be rooms and offices that were lined along the perimeter. 

The workers greeted Seonghwa casually– there was no rushing, no scrambling and no awkwardness. Just comfortable acknowledgement of each other’s presence. You did get stares which wasn’t unexpected and you thought that it was because there weren’t any women here, but you spotted one in a causal fit working on operating one of the machines. Seonghwa told you that she was one of the best engineers they had– Umji. 

You greeted a few more people including the CEO of Pledis– Choi Seungcheol. He was in the office just about to leave, dropping by for a visit and was glad to have caught Seonghwa. While the two talked, you settled down and a familiar face entered the office room.

“Oh– Luna!” 

You smiled at the enthusiasm with which Jung Wooyoung greeted you.

“Mr. Jung,” you shook hands with him. “How have you been?”

“Ay, just call me Wooyoung,” he waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m not used to people calling me Mr. Jung.”

“That’s what I’ve always called you though…”

“And I always tell you to just call me Wooyoung,” he winked, adjusting his black tank top and slumping down on a chair. “So. How are you finding our workplace?”

“Pretty impressive,” you nodded. “What exactly do you do here?”

“Supervise and make sure we have enough stock,” he said. “Mingi is basically the guard dog and Jongho… he likes to play boss.”

“Oh,” you stifled a smile. “Interesting.”

Wooyoung smiled knowingly and Seungcheol said his farewell, leaving the three of you in the office. Seonghwa smiled at you. “We’ll wait for Mingi and Jongho and then you can get to know more about the business in detail.”

“You’ll have to do a lot,” you shrugged. “I’m not very well-versed in machines and the like.”

Wooyoung and Seonghwa shared a look and you caught that, the dots starting to connect. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be showing me something else entirely.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you might be well-versed in that,” Wooyoung grinned. “At least more than these boring old machine parts.”

You looked at Seonghwa who nodded in confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“I am, which is why I brought you here,” he straightened the navy blue coat of his suit. “After all… you should know these things as Hongjoong’s personal secretary.”

“Ooh, so it is happening,” Wooyoung was grinning shamelessly now. “I just knew they would like you when you made that deal that saved you your life. Not that Seonghwa was going to kill you anyway, right?”

“I don’t quite believe that,” you said. It was true, and Seonghwa only smiled in answer, giving away nothing. “But I think you might have liked me way back, Wooyoung. When you shouted at the bar for the whole world to know–”

“Oh, I’m still sorry for that,” Wooyoung laughed, making you share the sentiment. 

It was a funny story– Wooyoung had been drunk and yapping, if you were to put it simply, about losing to the boys in a game of cards two times in a row. While passing a message to Yeosang, you secretly gave Wooyoung a tip, having observed the game and finding their weak spots. Wooyoung won the next game and while pompously boasting about how he had turned the tide of the game, he craned his neck out of the window to shout ‘Luna, I could kiss you right now!’ making half the bar groan at the confession while the other laughed and moved on. You were surprised for a few moments but when Eunbi told you that this was typical Wooyoung, you shrugged the nervousness off. 

“But my offer still stands,” Wooyoung winked at you. If it had been anyone else, you would have become a mess. But since Wooyoung was… well, Wooyoung, you rolled your eyes in response and the conversation shifted to recent updates.

It wasn’t long after when the line rang and Wooyoung led you to the backside of the factory, playing the role of a tour guide, to everyone’s amusement. He explained how everything was a perfect cover for their weapons business– the material they used for both the machines and the weapons was more or less the same and in case of an inspection, they simply switched the display and transported the half-made weapons to trucks. The vehicles would sneak the weapons away into the thick forest that was not far from here. It was a perfect cover and since Pledis was an old, renowned manufacturing company, there were little to no inspections. 

Sure, the police suspected that the Crescents may be dealing weapons but they would never suspect that they actually made their own weapons now.

Song Mingi and Choi Jongho lit up at the sight of the underboss, sharing fistbumps and hugs. You greeted them and they asked how you were doing, offering you a drink and scolding Wooyoung when they found out he hadn’t offered you anything yet. You assured them that you were okay but the conversation took an amusing turn as they pointed fingers at each other. 

Mingi was surprised to learn that you knew your guns– Madame Cha, who was a collector of guns and the like, had shared her knowledge of guns with you a lot in passing and you had been able to retain some. The gun that you carried in your purse, a ruger revolver, had also been a gift from her. It was interesting to learn just what role the Crescents played in the making of these guns and an hour passed by with you simply talking about the mechanism with the boys.

Jongho noticed just how much fun you were having chatting with Yerin, one of the lead designers of the guns, and when you caught them waiting for you, you got flustered. You promised Yerin that you would visit again and have a more in-depth conversation with her and joined the Crescents afterwards. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, no, it’s all good,” Jongho said. “I’m happy to see that you’re having a good time.”

You smiled and checked the time– there was still about two hours until your shift would begin. Jongho cleared his throat, catching your attention and asked, “Would you like to test some weapons before you go back?”

Your eyes widened with excitement at the offer and soon, you were in a car with Jongho driving and Seonghwa in the front seat. Wooyoung, who was sitting next to you in the backseat, explained that they often went to test the guns in a specific part of the forest and since it was hunting grounds anyway, the sounds went unnoticed– and it wasn’t like there were a lot of residents here. 

If the police or someone else did notice, they could buy their silence. You shot him a dirty look but you both knew that it was far too easy to buy silence in Eden, especially after the war.

There was also something bothering you ever since you learned about the weapons project, and that was… who exactly were they delivering the weapons to? Were they really the right people to mingle with? What exactly was right and wrong anymore?

You reckoned you could simply ask at this point. Since they intended to involve you in the business, you could ask such things, right? You turned to Wooyoung, about to ask but you caught an incoming speedy truck through the window and a scream got stuck in your throat. You flailed your arm, trying to catch their attention but it looked like Jongho noticed at the same time that you finally managed to yell ‘watch out!’.

Jongho swerved the car to the side just enough to avoid getting yourselves into a horrible car crash but still couldn’t prevent a light bump and you braced yourself as your body rocked to the side violently. Before you could react, you heard the shatter of glass and you screamed this time, Wooyoung grabbing you by the back of your neck and making you crouch down as the fragments of the glass window rained over you.

You looked at Wooyoung in panic who also let his defence down just for a moment as he made sure that you were okay. You nodded and just like that, his gaze turned steel as he raised his head to inspect just who was trying to kill you guys.

“I’m driving– provide cover!” Jongho pressed the pedal with all his might, steering away from the minitruck that was hell bent on crushing you. Wooyoung loaded his gun and started shooting, Seonghwa doing the same from the front but mostly to protect Jongho. You put your hands over your ears for a moment as you tried to make sense of what was happening–

You were under attack. You had almost died.

You scrambled in your purse for the gun, taking it out and loading it. Wooyoung spared you a glance, tsk-ing in disapproval. “We’ve got it, Luna. Just stay down.”

“I’d rather take my chances,” you muttered, but also obeyed him. You stayed crouching down, focusing more on having Wooyoung’s back. Your shot wasn’t bad but Wooyoung was moving a lot so you couldn’t risk shooting in case you hurt him instead. However, when Wooyoung ran out of bullets, you passed him your gun which he gladly took. Meanwhile, you reloaded his gun with the bullets in the inside pocket of his jacket. You noticed the shards of glass buried in his skin but it was too chaotic to comment on that at the moment.

“Recognise them?” Jongho asked before he took a sharp turn to the right, the road getting bumpier now that you were further on the track in the forest.

“Nah,” Wooyoung sniffed, a sharp frown on his face as he took a breather having shot down the tyres of the minitruck and halting it. “Need help, hyung?”

“I’m good,” Seonghwa said, groaning when the car started to leave. He ordered Jongho to turn the car around so they could catch them and you silently prayed that no one gets hurt. Now that you were gathering your wits, you realised how much the air had changed.

They had become the men you used to watch from afar and were a bit afraid of. Ruthless, calculating and powerful.

Jongho stopped the car near the abandoned truck and you all watched the other car disappear into the forest– they had been at a disadvantage or perhaps, they had underestimated you. Whatever the case was, all that mattered to the Crescents was the reason they attacked you.

Jongho and Seonghwa looked back to make sure you were okay. While you were very surprised, you were okay for the most part if you could ignore the erratic heartbeat. While the younger two checked the perimeter, Seonghwa got out of the car and opened the door for you to help you out. 

“You must have been shocked,” he said, caressing your gloved hand and frowning at the cut on your cheek, unable to stop himself and tracing it gently.

“I– I’m fine,” you gulped at his actions. “Uh, we should check the car. Does this happen often?”

“Not really,” he ran his hand through his messy long hair in frustration. “Someone’s really got a grudge against us lately.”

You raised a brow as if to say that that wasn’t new and he chuckled a bit, letting go of your hand and going towards the truck. You followed him, making note of the number plate– it was a registered Sector 1 vehicle. The two of you got inside the front seats of the truck, rummaging through the stuff when a certain something caught your eye.

An emblem of a cube within a cube. It might have gone unnoticed by the rest but you could recognise the unofficial emblem of Park Pharmaceuticals anywhere– it was only used personally by your father and you had seen it on some of his old employees’ uniforms and stationery as well. 

Seonghwa noticed you staring at the emblem printed on a card and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Your father must have learned that you had joined hands with the Crescents– or at least that you were now someone important to them. He must be suspecting that you were sharing information that you shouldn’t have told a soul. Was this supposed to be a warning, or did he really intend to kill you this time?

And he almost hurt the Crescents too. Wooyoung could have been shot. Seonghwa or Jongho could have gotten seriously injured. Just how low was this man going to stoop?

“Luna,” Seonghwa’s voice sounded again. “Do you recognise this emblem? You need to tell us if you do so we do not point at the wrong people.”

“This was my father’s doing,” you sighed in defeat. “This emblem is something he uses privately within his inner circle and gangs. I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I should have known.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, taking the emblem from you and examining it. 

“But it is,” you got out of the truck, going towards the car, your chest tightening with every step because your father almost killed them just because you were acquainted with them. They almost died because of you. And he must have also been the one behind Yunho’s attack– Yunho almost got shot because of you too–

“Luna,” Seonghwa grabbed you by the wrist and shook his head. “Do not blame yourself for something your father did. He intended to kill you.”

“But he almost killed you guys because of me!” You said through gritted teeth, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to calm down. You looked at your side to see Wooyoung and Jongho watching. “I should not have involved myself like this.”

Wooyoung tsk-ed, searching inside his car and taking out a bottle of water. He motioned for you to sit by the tree and you did, thanking him and drinking a few gulps. Jongho sat down beside you, trying to pick a tiny shard of glass that was buried in his wrist.

“I’ve heard about your father,” Jongho said. “Secretary Park Byung Eun. He’s after you, isn’t he? Just because he’s afraid that you’ll spill all his dirty little secrets?”

“Well… yeah, that’s the gist of it,” you took a deep breath. “He must be mad that his own daughter is after him. What parent would kill their child just to silence them?”

You watched Seonghwa and Wooyoung clean the mess of a car, Wooyoung stealing glances at you occasionally. Seonghwa was mostly noting down the details of the truck, saying something about how he needed to find out just which gang your father had employed for this job. 

“Some parents don’t need a reason to want to get rid of their child,” Jongho said, looking at you. “They just do it because they’re selfish like that.”

You frowned. Was he talking from personal experience?

“I’m actually an illegitimate child too,” Jongho shared with a smile and your mouth curved like an o in surprise. “My mother is from Eden and my father from Halaland. She gave birth here, which is why I’m considered an Eden citizen, but I spent my early childhood in Halaland. Quite a combination, right?”

He was right. People from Halaland had always been treated with wariness and after the war, it just got worse. They faced discrimination. To be an illegitimate child who was half Hala…

“I guess we do have something in common then,” you shrugged, Jongho laughing at your joke.

“The reason I’m telling you this, Luna, is because the fact that I am both of these has never hindered my path,” he said and you turned your attention to him. “Hongjoong and the others, they never discriminated. We were all children of war and we bonded with each other because we have more in common-like values and morals. Not family background or useless things like that. And you… just because you’re unwanted does not mean you have to bend under your father’s will.”

“I have not,” you shook your head. “I am resisting. I’m just trying to be careful, because this is what happens when I slip.”

“This did not happen because you were careless,” he assured you. “This happened because he is scared of you, Luna. Don’t you realise? He’s scared he will be exposed because you know that he has joined hands with Strictland. He’s scared that you will uncover the truth and expose him. If he gets exposed, he will lose everything and so will the people he has associated with. Are you gonna let him stomp over you, or are you going to try to be one step ahead?”

You clasped your hands in thought– he wasn’t wrong. You had just been too cowardly to see it. 

“Jongho’s right,” Wooyoung joined you, Seonghwa watching with a smile. “Show them what you’re made of, Luna. Accept the secretary position with your whole heart and use us to take your revenge on him– after all, we share the same goals.”

“Where did that come from,” you laughed, finally feeling calmer when Wooyoung grinned back. “What is it to you if I become his secretary?”

“My precious Luna,” he teased, grinning cheekily. “You really think we’re asking you to be the secretary here? You’re already one right now.”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa warned but Wooyoung waved a hand.

“I mean,” he said, “Being Hongjoong’s personal secretary, or assistant, or whatever you call it… it will just be a term. What we’re really asking you is to become a part of our inner circle. We’re asking you to walk with us, plan with us, help us so we can help you. It’s more like being a partner, isn’t it?”

“That’s… a lot,” you laughed nervously, overwhelmed by his proposition. 

“But we need you,” he said matter-of-factly. “And so do you. Neither of us can do this without each other.”

He was right. They could get more information on whatever Secretary Park was doing, but you still had so much more that you were keeping from them. To be a part of their inner circle, be a part of Ateez was what they were asking from you. Being Hongjoong’s personal secretary would just be the job you would officially do but really–

You walked with them. Dined with them. Planned with them, even now. No one else did it like you were doing. You were already a part of them, whether you liked it or not.

Not that you were complaining. They had treated you with more respect and given you more authority than you’d ever gotten in your life. You were seen and you were heard here. It was overwhelming but if you looked past that…

It was kind of heartwarming. 

“We’re here to protect each other,” Seonghwa said, having noticed your features shift from nervousness to acceptance. “And that means that we will protect you, and you will protect us. It doesn't matter who you are or what your background is. Our goals are the same.”

“For Eden,” you said, looking at them. “Are we really doing this for Eden? Will it really benefit our homeland?”

“You must have some doubts about what we do. Rightfully so,” Seonghwa nodded, offering you his hand and you grabbed it, getting up. “You can ask me anything, Luna. On our way back– it’s getting dark, and we really must get going now.”

You went back to the warehouse first to switch cars. You were worried Mingi would be angry but he was surprisingly only glad that you all made it back in one piece. They offered to patch you up but you told them you really did not want to be late for your shift which made them laugh. It was only a scratch so you could take care of it in the office. The trio let you go with a can of beer for the way back ‘to calm your nerves’. You gladly accepted.

Seonghwa told you that it was okay to ask– apparently, Yuta was one of the insiders too. So candidly, you asked him why exactly did they need to manufacture their own weapons. 

You learned that Eden had actually suffered in the war more than you imagined with a lot of soldiers having gone missing, suspected of defecting or worse. A lot of the existing weapons channels had also either shut down or stopped business for unknown reasons. The underworld dealing came to a halt for some time after the war and while the treaty between Halaland and Eden ensured that there wouldn’t be a war in the foreseeable future, if Halaland learned that Eden was basically defenceless, they might start something again.

Seonghwa also told you that Eden’s military could not be trusted because their sole purpose seemed to be power and politics, referring to the clashes ex-President Son had with the military when they enforced the ‘over-17’ law. Hence, a few old gangs like MX and others resumed the weapons dealing and even collaborated with gangs from Wonderland and Utopia.

You told Seonghwa that you had qualms about their drug project too but he promised that they would tell you the details soon. You understood and a few minutes later, you reached the Crescent office. You still had some time to spare so you freshened up before going upstairs.

You were arranging your things at the desk and just taking a breather when the door to Yunho’s office opened. Seonghwa appeared to be leaving. Yunho followed behind and they exchanged a few words before Seonghwa disappeared downstairs and Yunho turned his attention to you.

You had to admit it, you missed him a little. He hadn’t been in the office a lot recently, probably busy with other things, but he appeared as sophisticated as ever in his black button down shirt and cream slacks. He smiled at you faintly, slowly walking towards you and shaking his head.

“You need to do something about that,” he pointed at your cheek. You had taken a look at it in the mirror earlier in the bathroom– the blood had crusted so you let it be. You didn’t have any band-aids in your purse and decided to start keeping some.

“Good evening to you too. It’s only a scratch,” you said and Yunho shook his head.

“Come to my room,” he said, not waiting to hear a response and you huffed, surrendering and following him. He was rummaging through his drawers and found the little first-aid box, bringing it towards the couch and beckoning you to sit.

“A simple bandage would do,” you started but he raised a finger in warning and that shut you up pretty quick. He settled down next to you and took out a bottle of disinfectant and a cotton pad, soaking it in and then turning towards you. You extended your hand so he could pass you the pad but he ignored that, leaning in to do the job himself. You reflexively shut your eyes as his hand neared your face and he didn’t miss that.

Your heart rate picked up and you willed your eyes to open, finding him watching you with curiosity. He cleaned the scratch, his brows furrowing in concentration and then he discarded the pad, taking out a box of salve. This time, he picked some on his index finger and you pursed your lips to keep a comment from popping out of your mouth. 

With the pad of his thumb, he turned your face sideways so he could properly see the scratch and then he started applying the salve. You took a deep breath, the air thick with tension. He decided to break the silence.

“Are you okay? You must have been shocked,” he said.

“Yeah, I was,” you admitted. “But I recovered pretty quick this time.”

“Ah, did you?” A smirk made its way on his lips as he finished applying the ointment, now opening the bandaid. You just knew he was thinking about that night when you freaked out when he was going to be attacked and kept him close so he wouldn’t risk his life trying to find answers.

“Yes. I owe that to Wooyoung and Jongho,” you huffed. “They are good with words.”

“Was I not?” He asked, referring to that night.  

“They also let me use my gun,” you half-lied but when he gave you the look, you rolled your eyes. “Okay, technically, I only loaded it for Wooyoung. He’s the one who used it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they wouldn’t let you get your hands dirty,” he chuckled, carefully applying the band-aid over the scar. 

“Maybe I’ll need to,” you shrugged and he looked at you. “I should learn how to use the gun properly if I’m keeping it. I mean, I do know how to use it but I lack practice.”

“But you shouldn’t actually use it,” he reprimanded but you shook your head.

“I need to learn to protect myself… and protect you.”

He looked at you in surprise and you continued. “All of you. If you claim to have my back, I should return the favour. I should be able to protect myself, not be a burden to you guys, and protect you all in return.”

“Luna… you really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Yunho assured you calmly. “And you’re not a burden to us. Don’t ever think that.”

“I can’t just sit back and watch you guys risk your life trying to protect me from someone who’s after me!” You started. “You can try to convince me that it’s not my fault that you almost got shot that night or the boys almost got hurt today, but I know it’s my fault.”

“Luna–”

“Yes, it’s not exactly my fault,” you rambled on. “It’s my father’s. But the fact is that he is after me and if to get to me he needs to wipe out all of you, he will, just so he can continue with his awful dealings that I’m sure will cost Eden something–”

“Y/n,” Yunho scooted forward, taking both your hands in his and intertwining them, making you stop mid-sentence. He took a deep breath, watching how your small hands fit in his and when you looked at your joined hands, your heart melted at the way his fingers gently caressed yours. “Are you done now?”

You didn’t respond and he tried not to comment on how you always shut up when you were in close proximity with him or, well, whenever he was touching you. He took a deep breath. 

“You’re ours now,” he locked eyes with you, his tone almost containing a hint of warning in them that made your heart sink a little. “You’re a Crescent now, a part of our team, and that means that you will protect us in any way that you can, and we will return the favour. The information that you provide us with… that is our protection, and that is enough. If you wish to learn defence or offence, sure. I won’t stop you. But it should only be to protect yourself, okay?”

You pursed your lips but he was being adamant, squeezing your hands a little. “We would have gotten in trouble with Secretary Park one day anyway. Eventually, our secret drug project was going to lead us to him and it could have taken an even more dangerous turn. But what happened today… that is enough. He’s crossing a line. I will send him a message, and I will make it clear that you are under our protection and we will not tolerate any more misbehaviour from him. Is that okay?”

“He will consider it a call for war,” you warned him. “He will not stop.”

“So be it,” Yunho smiled almost sadistically. “We are children of war, all of us, aren’t we? The personal battles too. We are survivors, you and I. He won’t know what’s coming for him.”

You nodded in answer, looking down. You weren’t sure you were ever going to get used to someone treating you not just as an equal but offering you their power and so much more. But Yunho… he always knew just what was going on in your head. He drew back one of his hands from your hold only to draw it towards your face, lifting your chin up so you would look at him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

It must have been an order because his gaze compelled you to spill. 

“It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that you’re all doing this… willingly. For me.”

Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “For you, and for us. Get used to this treatment, princess.”

With an affectionate tap to your cheek, he drew back and started packing the kit. You sat there, baffled at what he just said and also, taking the loss of his touch to your heart. When he looked at you, your hand seemed to be outstretched as if you aimed to rest it on his back. You drew it away but he caught that, raising a brow.

“Princess? Really?” you asked, making him laugh.

“I can do worse too,” he offered and you shook your head, about to leave but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, a surprised yelp escaping your mouth when you found his face way too close to yours, his eyes searching yours for answers that you didn’t possess yet. You felt the urge to draw his ruffled hair away from his forehead. His gaze flickered to your lips and god, he was going to be the death of you.

“No thanks,” you scoffed in answer but then he purposely raised your hand slowly, shifting his hold so he could kiss your knuckles softly, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. Your own lips parted in surprise at his actions– he was crossing the line, but–

What line? The question hung in the air as he waited for you to challenge him, to respond to him.

What line, really.

“Is this a challenge?” You dared to ask.

“If you make it to be,” he responded, eagerly waiting for you to make the next move.

And oh, he did not realise that you would never back down from a challenge. You licked your lips, leaning forward and smiling in satisfaction when he started tilting his face, expecting the obvious. You drew closer until you were inches away and when his eyes fluttered shut, you made your move.

You blew lightly at the tip of his nose, earning a shocked sound from him and with an almost childish giggle erupting from your mouth, you backed away and started to go towards the door, looking back to find him flustered but amused. You saluted mockingly, making him laugh before you shut the door.

Oh. You were done for.

next chapter

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[jellymochii]

Stray Kids - A/B/O Headcanons

𓃦 pairings: ot8 wolf hybrid!skz x wolf hybrid!reader

𓃦 genre: Werewolf AU, fluff, angst, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT

𓃦 cw: Smut, unprotected sex(pls no), mating/knots, cunnilingus, p in v, hybrid smut.

𓃦 wc: 2.7k

↪author's note: hello! sorry for the delay, just started nursing school and med math is kicking my ass. anyways next up is sub skz, then dom txt, and then aespa first date fluff! Hope you enjoy!

(Also all of the members are either an Alpha or Beta, you're the only omega.)

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

☾ Bang Chan - Leader/Alpha

Yeah ok this one was kinda obvious.

He's the leader of the pack and the protector of all of you. He'd stop at nothing to keep you and the pack safe.

Thus, you were mated to him first-his soulmate. He knew it the moment he saw you, that you were the omega he was told about all those years ago.

And dear God, he's extremely possessive over you–hence why he had the honor of being the first one to bite you and claim you.

Even though he so graciously shares you with the rest of his beloved pack, he would kill anyone, even a member of his pack, to protect you.

This also ties into his ruts. When he's rutting, no one is allowed within 5 feet of you. He's got you in the safe house, making the others bring food and water often, all while he swells you full of his knot more times than you can count.

While he's normally sweet alpha channie in bed, if he's rutting--lets hope you make it out without a sore and leaking cunt (you won't, sorry.)

You're in your heat at the same time as his rut, though? Oh, it's heaven. He can absolutely keep up with all your pent-up frustration from needing to be filled to the brim with his knot. You’ll get exactly what you need from him!!

“Nngh, baby, Alpha’s gonna knot you full of his pups, kay? Stay still omega, let Daddy fill you.”

Once his rut is over and your cervix is practically overflowing with his cum, he'll always run you a warm bath and tell you what a good omega you are for him–and how you're everything to him.

Outside of the bedroom, he's always attentive too–he seems to be very in tune to your emotions and can often feel them as if they were his own. Almost like the two of you had tied souls.

You're his love and his pride and joy, no matter what.

☾ Lee Know - Second In Command/Alpha

Ok, I know beta Lee Know with alpha tendencies is what we’ve all agreed on, but hear me out–

He’s the 2nd oldest and Bang Chan’s right-hand man–responsible for all kinds of discipline and training when Chan is at work.

This also includes when you decide to defy him or the rest of the pack–Yeah, you're in for it.

Even if he loves you now, it still took him a while to fully accept you as a member of the pack. He was naturally suspicious of you, but once he became more comfortable around you and saw how well you treated the boys–he began to truly love you.

Home cooked meals for you and the boys 24/7. Even if he's sick, he won't let you lay a finger on anything in the kitchen–he thinks that his omega shouldn't ever have to lift a finger.

He often has to isolate himself in the safe house during ruts because of how intense they are for him and how scared he is of hurting you.

Takes items you gift him from your nest with your scent on them and ruts into them, absorbing every drop of your delicious scent coming from them–wishing it was you he was giving his knot to.

If he's not rutting and just feeling a little romantic (or pissed off at you for being bratty), rest assured you're getting several knots out of him.

“Yeah, you want my knot, little omega? Then you better behave if you want it–only good sluts get filled.”

Lots of spanking and doggy style in general, the way you yelp when he tugs your hair from the back drives him mad.

Ugh, and he's always sooooo deep in. You feel like your guts are being rearranged.

He's a sweetie pie afterward, food and water for you right away. Even if sometimes he's cold or standoffish towards you, he'd risk his entire life for you over and over again if it meant staying by your side.

☾ Changbin - Head Beta

Changbin is the muscle of the group in terms of protection and just carrying around heavy stuff for you and the others.

He also is responsible for keeping the other betas in line when an alpha isn't present, he's not strict by any means but has a big sense of responsibility when it comes to protecting you and his pack.

Loves you so so much! He always tries to make you laugh whenever he picks you up bridal style and swings you around like a baby.

Works out diligently around the clock to be strong for you and his pack. Similar to his alpha, Lee Know, won't let you lift a finger and always does the heavy lifting for you.

Thinks it's cute when you go to the gym with him to spot him and gain some muscle of your own (you'll be carrying LOTS of pups in your arms soon!) and somehow scares away every man who tries to approach you.

His ruts are so humbling for him. Before you came into the pack, he was angry and used to throwing things around during his rut because of how bad it was. But now? He’s oh so desperate and pathetically whiny.

“Jagiiii p-please, Binnie needs you–it hurts so bad!”

If you do eventually cave in, he's surprisingly more gentle than the rest of the boys in rut. He knows his cock is so thick that it'll split you open, so every bone in his body tells him to fuck you gently.

Loves showing off his strength by fucking you while holding you, or having you pushed against the wall with your legs wrapped around him so his knot reaches oh so deeper.

Becomes very possessive over you in general while fucking. He'll leave hickies all over your neck, sometimes even next to the other pack member’s bite marks-just to show them who made you feel this good.

You're insanely dizzy afterward from how full you are with his pups and how deep his knot inflated your poor cervix.

Don't worry! Binnie takes the best care of his baby afterward. You're the love of his life, after all.

☾ Hyunjin - Beta

Certified Lover Boyyyyyy

Like Lee Know, he was a little unsure of you joining at first because of how he's been hurt in the past.

Once he opens up to you, he falls head over heels in love with you. Every painting and every song on his guitar suddenly becomes about you, his omega, and his muse.

He likes to take you out into flower fields to have picnics and draw with you. He'll snap unsuspecting photos of you smiling with a flower in your hair so he can paint it later.

You're his whole world. Truthfully, he hates having to share with you with the rest of his pack, but there's not much he can do as a Beta other than steal a blanket from your nest when you're not looking so he can rut into it.

Same for his rut, he'll take all of his paintings of you (some intimate) and a collection or clothes he's taken and absolutely soil them within 1 day.

Thus, he gets scolded and punished by you and the Alpha’s frequently for tampering with your nest–but he can't help it! He needs your scent surrounding him, or he'll go feral.

Sometimes, if he's pre-rut and starting to get overstimulated, he'll sneak into your bedroom and suck on one of your nipples for comfort. You don't mind–and it usually leads to something else anyway.

Practically worships you in bed, especially if you volunteer to help him during his rut--he's so grateful to be in your generous presence. He'll make sure your needs are put before his own, always out of habit.

“Baby–fuck, I love you so much~! I'm gonna give you my agh–knot, all for you.”

His orgasms hit him so hard, especially when you're cumming at the same time as him.

You've never felt more loved in your whole life than when you're with him. You've got him wrapped around your finger 24/7.

☾ Han - Beta

Oh my sweet sungie, he's totally obsessed with his omega.

He's definitely more docile and fragile compared to the rest of his pack, but he's still got some fervor in him when it comes to protecting you.

He’s basically the pack's emotional support. He has his own omega tendencies in a way that his pack clings to him naturally, too.

Was the first one to get attached to you besides Chan. He loved you the moment you walked into the pack house.

Needy asf. Like actually begs for attention 24/7 from you.

He gets HUNGRY when he's rutting, both for his snacks and for you–more specifically, for your pussy.

He could lay there for hours mindlessly eating you out like it's his last meal. He wears the title of Pack Munch with pride.

If he's rutting he goes feral over the scent of your cunt, even from far away. He'll devour you while humping the mattress and blankets below him, and he's cum from it quite a few times.

He's the boy you wanna call if you wanna cum over and over again in your heat on just a tongue. Likewise, his own rut calms down and passes by quicker when he's scarfing your juices down like a dehydrated wild animal.

“Cum for me…pretty please omega? I know you cannn.”

He can definitely use his dick when he needs to, though. His only problem is how violent his orgasms wash over him when his knot is deep in your cunt.

Ughhh, he's so obsessed. Please tell him what a good job he did and how you're his omega forever.

☾ Felix - Beta

Felix is the medical expert of the group. He tends to wounds anyone in the pack receives and gives the best massages.

His love language is touch, so you better expect him sneaking into your nest and nuzzling his nose into your soft skin while he kneads at your thighs.

When he's not busy tending to the other members, he loves to bake alongside Lee Know. If you have a bad sweet tooth, he's the guy to call–for cookies and cuddles.

He likes having you in his lap while he plays video games or watches Disney movies with you (please don't make him sit through Twilight again. He's team Jacob and suffers watching it).

He might be the smallest of the pack, but he's feisty when it comes to you! If another member comes and tries to steal your attention while he's laying beside you, he'll snarl at them (and probably get scolded, but he doesn't really care).

Like Changbin, his ruts are also humbling for him. Poor baby is so whiny and cries at night from the pain of his rut–and not having you there with him in the safe house.

“Baby p-please! I'll be gentle, I promise! I'll take–fuck, anything.”

You feel way too bad about not helping him, so even if you just hold your hand out for him to rut his cock into–that's more than enough for him to spill his seed all over.

Sitting in his lap while he thrusts up into you at an unbearable pace is all you need to have your gummy walls clench around him, causing his knot to inflate deep in your cervix.

He swears he'll pull out because he knows he'll get scolded for it–yet he never does. The feeling of burying his pups deep in you is something no amount of scolding and punishment could ever make him stop.

Loves cuddling in the bathtub with you as a form of aftercare, he'll nuzzle his nose into your neck and pepper kisses over the hickies he left, and treat them the best.

What can I say? He's a sweetheart.

☾ Seungmin - Beta

Seungmin is the cheeky and youngest Beta in the pack, and often the source of many headaches for Chan and the other alphas.

He didn't take too kindly to you when Chan introduced you at first, causing him to snarl at you the first few days when you passed by.

This in turn, led to an argument which caused him to destroy your nest out of anger. He was punished accordingly by the Alpha's and forced to apologize.

He was planning on giving a half-assed apology to you–but when tears started pouring down your cheeks as you cried and asked “Why do you hate me, Seungmin? I love you, and I love this pack.” His heart hurt as he began to reassess his entire world view.

He's never heard anyone say “I love you”, not even his own parents. He couldn't forgive himself for months and spent many hours showering you in gifts and trying to win you back. He even snuck one of his pillows into your nest so you'd associate his scent with safety.

One day, he came home with a puppy plushie Felix said you'd been eyeballing at the mall alongside a bouquet of roses, to which you felt relieved and cried that he finally had accepted you.

“Y/N…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean to you, and I-I love you too.”

He spends his ruts with the stuffed he gave you since it has your scent on it and reminds him of you. Don't worry, he'll stitch it up soon–but for now he has to fuck the hole he tore into it for some form of relief.

If you choose to help him while wearing the collar with “KS” on it that he got for you–oh boy, he's done for.

You'll have knot after knot while he tugs on your collar and humps you from the back.

“Fuck, You're so sexy like that. All this ass for me?”

He still tends to be gentler with you, he's still learning how to love, but he knows no matter what he has so much love for you!

☾ Jeongin - Alpha

Baby Alpha Jeongin on top!!

He still doesn't know how to control his instincts when you first enter the pack, so he has to be kept away from you at first and only be given selective clothing of yours with your scent on it to get used to your scent.

…He likes it way too much. So much so that he'll surround himself in your donated clothes while aggressively rutting into your favorite blue blanket (They're too soiled in cum to be salvaged, sorry.)

This in turn becomes a major problem for him. When he first gets to meet you face to face and gets a whim of your scent, he goes feral and has to be physically held back by Chan and Changbin to prevent him from knotting you.

You, on the other hand, thought it was adorable. So much so that the next time you donated some clothes, you made sure to release your sweet juices all over them before giving it to him–Chan was not enthused but decided to indulge him nonetheless since the poor boy was having a really bad rut.

Oh boy, did it drive him absolutely insane. The whole safe house was torn to shreds in less than 24hrs from how feral he went from the scent of your arousal.

The next time his rut came around the two of you had become well adjusted to each other. He found that he would have to distance himself often to prevent himself from pouncing onto you and taking you right there.

You offer to help him during his next rut and swear up and down to the pack that you'll call for help but it becomes too much, but you don't need help when Jeongin is hitting all of your sweet spots~!

Especially when he's pounding into you at a brutal pace while strangled growls and cries spill from his mouth as he bites down onto your shoulder.

“Nnnngh, I'm gonna cum holy shit~!” or “No-stay fucking still omega, I need to knot.”

He truly feels so loved when he has you under him so submissive like this–he knows deep down he’d do anything for you.

He’s a sweetie pie and deserves the world.

[svt-luna]

≡;- ꒰ ° LUNA’S MEMBER FILES ꒱ ─── just svt things…

synopsis: A deep dive into Luna’s unique relationship with each member— filled with chaos, inside jokes, emotional whiplash, and all the painfully specific dynamics that only the SEVENTEEN member files can explain.

wc: 16.3k

SURPRISE!!! 🎉🥳 a little something for my lovelies since i hit 3k followers recently!! 3,017 to be exact!!!! thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart 💕 i love every single one of you, lovely human beings— whether you are a silent reader or a constant anonymous submission messager, i love, love, love you and i appreciate every single one of you equally!! thank you for constantly supporting my little blog and Luna-Verse. thank you for loving our Luna and i promise, more coming soon! i love you 3000, my 3000! (and counting) 💖

also! this is a pretty lengthy one, so grab a snack and get cosy! i am very proud of this btw— it’s too cute 🥹💕

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

S.COUPS & LUNA ─── CheolNa

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

an ex-admirer turned protector turned fake boyfriend turned bestie who’s lowkey still in love with you but is also rooting for your fiancé who he also has a strange relationship with… it’s complicated.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first Impression vs. now:

trainee Seungcheol was the second to approach Luna (right after Jeonghan) and was immediately taken aback by her face. Literally gawked.

“I’m not even exaggerating. I looked at her and was like… ‘oh, damn.’” – Seungcheol, on the show Goblin Who Steals Wisdom.

he used to call her ‘Visual Princess Trainee’ and teased her relentlessly— stealing her food, tugging her braids, scaring her when she entered the room, poking her cheek just because she flinched and pouted every time.

and according to Luna: “He was so annoying. I once told him to shut up and he said, ‘You’re too pretty to be mean to me.’ like— what are you supposed to say to that?”

later in a casual group live, Luna calls him out: “Cheollie was so annoying during our trainee years. He used to tease me so much during practice or during break… constantly he would annoy me constantly.”

Seungcheol (grinning): “I liked you, duh. That’s what teenage boys do when they have a crush on a pretty girl.”

cue 5-second pause and Luna choking on her water.

now, they’re almost too comfortable. like childhood best friends who flirt like exes but never crossed the line— except that one time he said “If Jeonghannie fumbles, I’m next in line.” and no one knows if he was joking or not.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

Seungcheol took his leader-of-the-pack role seriously, even as a trainee. Luna, the only girl in the room half the time, brought out his protective instincts early.

he used to walk her to the subway station whenever she needed to go somewhere. waited outside the bathroom during late practices. carried her backpack. no one asked. he just did. when Luna fainted from exhaustion once, Seungcheol was the first to sprint across the room and lift her up, bridal style. no hesitation.

“I’ve always felt responsible for her. Not because she the only girl. Not because she’s weak. Not because she’s not capable of handling herself. Because she never asks for help, and I can’t stand that.” – Seungcheol, in Hit the Road Documentary.

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

weirdly not platonic. it’s giving fake marriage pact energy. it’s giving ‘if we’re single at 40, we’ll get married’ type of energy but also ‘don’t touch her or i’ll kill you’ vibes.

they’re flirty without meaning to be. Luna adjusts his collar. he ties her shoes. Jeonghan is constantly side-eyeing them like, “Should I leave??”

Seungcheol once told a staff member: “No, I’m not her boyfriend. I’m her emergency husband right after her actual emergency husband.”

they’ll be mid-bickering and Luna will suddenly rest her head on his shoulder and pout. Seungcheol won’t blink. just puts an arm around her like muscle memory.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

soft. calm. gentle chaos. Seungcheol does things immediately when Luna asks.

Luna: “I’m craving iced americano.”

Seungcheol: already halfway to the café “Say less.”

Luna is the only person who can make him lie down and nap when he’s burnt out. he listens when she speaks— like really listens. Luna knows how to handle his leadership stress. She’ll say, “You don’t have to do everything. You don’t have to carry the burden alone. Take a breath, Cheollie. The world isn’t asking you to be perfect, just present,” and suddenly he’s tearing up behind his hoodie.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Seungcheol brings out: Luna’s bratty, spoiled, but also vulnerable side. she lets herself be taken care of by him— something she rarely allows with others.

Luna brings out: Seungcheol’s softest, gentlest side. she makes him drop the tough leader facade and just be… he becomes baby, actually.

he calls her out when she’s pushing herself too hard. she calls him out when he’s bottling things up. they reset each other’s nervous systems.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Seugcheol for Luna: big brother? teammate? ex-admirer? emotional support husband? guard dog? all of the above.

Luna for Seungcheol: his emotional anchor. his reality check. the only person besides Jeonghan who can tell him “no” and he’ll actually listen.

Luna says: “He’s Jeonghan’s best friend, but he’s my guardian angel.”

when Jeonghan and Cheol argue (because of course they do), Luna is Switzerland— but more powerful.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

shopping— Luna shops. Seungcheol pays. that’s the tradition. He jokes she has him under a financial curse.

“She smiles and suddenly I’m buying five shades of the same lipstick.”

eating buddies— always ordering way too much. Luna takes aesthetic pics. Seungcheol’s halfway through the meal already.

late-night drives— Seungcheol plays ballads. Luna controls the playlist after two songs.

he buys her hair clips. she picks out his cologne. they once wore matching sunglasses for a week by accident and didn’t change it when people teased them and pointed it out.

most recently pet dates— ever since Luna received Bugs, she and Seungcheol occasionally have pet dates with her bunny and his dog Kkuma.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

the nickname bit— Seungcheol started calling her ‘our baby’ in group chats just to mess with Jeonghan who didn’t mind. it stuck.

marriage pact— Seungcheol: “If Jeonghannie ever fumbles, you know I’m next in line.”

Luna (without missing a beat): “He’s not. But you can be the flower boy.”

lip balm tax— Luna always steals his lip balm. Seungcheol carries an extra now just for her.

the ‘Daddy Cheol’ jokes— born from a fan tweet, now a cursed part of their dynamic. Luna leans into it. Cheol denies it— badly (he likes it).

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

Luna grabs his hand when she’s anxious. he rubs his thumb across her knuckles. Seungcheol puts her hair behind her ear when it falls into her face. she lays her head in his lap during long rehearsals. he guards her like a security system.

during comebacks, Cheol always sneaks her favorite snacks into her bag. “Eat, Jiyeonie. You’ll yell at me later if you’re hungry.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

that viral concert fancam— Luna jokingly hip-bumps Seungcheol on stage. he hip-bumps her back, she stumbles, and he catches her with one hand like a k-drama male lead. the clip? viral and everywhere.

Knowing Brothers show clip— MC: “S.Coups, who’s the most attractive in Seventeen?”

Seungcheol (without blinking): “Luna.”

Joshua (offended): “Try again.”

Jeonghan (confused): “Coups is right, why?”

that one live— Luna called Seungcheol ‘my little sugar daddy’ and then immediately carried on like nothing happened.

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nicknames for Seugcheol:

Cheol, Cheollie, Coupsie, Cherry Baby (for the chaotic flair), Daddy Cheol (jokingly, mostly to provoke him), My Wallet, Sugar Daddy Cheol

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Seungcheol’s nicknames for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Nie, Nie-Nie, Our baby, Our Princess, Softie, My Girl (playfully, in front of Jeonghan, to start drama)

iv. CONTACTS

cheollie baby & jiyeonie baby

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

one day Seungcheol peeked at Luna’s screen while she was texting and saw his name saved as ‘Cheollie baby’.

Seungcheol: “Wow. I get the baby suffix?”

Luna: “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Seungcheol: changes her contact name on the spot. “We’re cute like that,” he says to Jeonghan. not long after Seungcheol told Luna, “Jeonghan almost blocked me.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures

Seungcheol’s pic: taken at the practice room, Luna secretly snapped it when he was complaining about a game update.

Luna’s pic: she sent it while in full glam, captioned “matchy matchy” with a cherry emoji.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

nope. It’s been the same for 3 years. neither of them is allowed to change it. it’s an unspoken rule.

“It’s cute,” Luna says.

“We’re cute,” Seungcheol followed.

JEONGHAN & LUNA ─── JeongNa

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

twin flames turned lovers turned soulmates— chaotic fairytale-like royalty with a strangers-to-besties-to-lovers arc that had no business being this fated.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

Jeonghan was the first trainee to approach Luna when she joined— unbothered by her aura, totally intrigued instead. she was shy, a little aloof, and carried herself with this cool confidence, and he thought, “Well damn. Who is she?”

Jeonghan introduced himself and the rest was history.

he sat next to her one day and offered her banana milk like it was a peace treaty. he teased her for wearing her hoodie strings unevenly. she looked at him like, “Who even are you?” they were instantly on each other’s radar but pretended they weren’t. classic teen k-drama behavior.

Jeonghan: “You always sit alone. Are you like… mysterious or just anti-people?”

Luna: “I just don’t like talking people.”

Jeonghan: “…but you’re talking to me?”

Luna (giggling on the inside): “Unfortunately.”

Jeonghan once said in a Weverse live years later: “When Jiyeonie first joined, I thought she was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. I was also a little scared of her. She was like a hawk in a room full of chickens. She had that ‘don’t talk to me unless you’re interesting’ vibe. So I tried to be interesting.”

Luna revealed in a magazine interview: “I was so shy at first, but Jeonghan made it easy. He kept showing up until I let him in.”

They were secretly crushing on each other for years but thought the other didn’t feel the same. best friends with sexual tension so intense their members had to separate them sometimes.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

started with late-night vent sessions in the practice room. Jeonghan would bring snacks, Luna would bring emotional damage. they trauma bonded over the pressure of being expected to be perfect all the time. Jeonghan was one of the only people who noticed when Luna would go quiet and not just assume she was fine.

“You don’t have to be okay just because you’re strong.” Jeonghan would tell her.

Luna would always seek him out when she needed grounding. Jeonghan had a calmness that wrapped around her like a blanket. their closeness was never loud— it was in the eye contact, the mirroring movements, the silence that felt full instead of empty.

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

magnetic. soulmate-coded. slow-burn tension that fans thought was scripted at first but turned out to be painfully real. loud in teasing, quiet in their affection. they can bicker in front of people and no one bats an eye, but if they go quiet and soft? everyone clears the room.

the vibe between them is so ‘meant to be’ it’s genuinely eerie. their will-they-won’t-they phase was a full k-drama arc that had fans writing essays and theorizing for years.

when they’re in the same room, they gravitate toward each other like magnets. it’s involuntary. the phrase “You two act like a married couple” lost all meaning.

unlike Seungcheol , who acts as Luna’s fierce guard dog— ready to throw hands if anyone even looks at her wrong— Jeonghan protects Luna differently. Jeonghan lets her fight her own battles, stepping in only when she needs or asks him to. he sees her strength first, treats her as an equal, but God help anyone who crosses a line.

he’s the type to smile at you sweetly while ruining your life behind the scenes if you hurt her. if Seungcheol is a sword who strikes in open battle for her, Jeonghan is the silent poison slipping through your wine— undetectable, elegant, and inevitable. Jeonghan is the type to destroy your career and send you a fruit basket the next morning.

Jeonghan (sweetly): “You okay, Nana-ya?”

Luna (proud): “Yeah, I handled it.”

Jeonghan (smiling wider): “Good. I’ll handle the rest.”

when seen together in real life, fans and strangers alike describe them as feeling “unreal.” they have a royal fairy aura— as if they’re two mythical beings who slipped out of a fairytale. there’s a soft shimmer to them when they walk side by side, matching steps, sharing secret glances.

fans who meet them together say they just make sense— “Like two puzzle pieces that were carved out of the same star.” their aura together is so strong even strangers on the street pause to stare like they’ve stumbled into a fairytale.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

pure domestic softness. the type to lie in bed all day doing absolutely nothing and calling it the best day ever.

constant gentle touches— thumb strokes, hand holding, Luna braiding his hair lazily while Jeonghan scrolls through her playlist.

silences aren’t awkward— they’re intimate. they have entire conversations with just looks. “Did you eat?” “Yeah, did you?” “…No.” “C’mon.”

Jeonghan instinctively reaches for her hand or her waist. Luna unconsciously leans into him every time.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Jeonghan brings out: Luna’s playful, mischievous, childlike side. he’s the one who makes her laugh the most, who drags her out of bed to go get ice cream at midnight.

Luna brings out: Jeonghan’s calm, tender, serious side. with her, he softens. he listens. he feels safe being gentle.

she tethers him when his thoughts run too wild. he lifts her when she forgets how to. they balance each other perfectly— fire and wind. movement and stillness.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

they are each others’: best friend, soulmate, twin flame, lover. dating for five years and counting. engaged. wedding postponed till Jeonghan finishes his military service. they literally share brain cells— finish each other’s sentences, say the same thing at the same time.

they’re the first person each other calls— whether it’s for good news, bad news, or “I saw a cute cat and thought of you.”

Jeonghan is her safe space. Luna is his constant.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

Lego building nights— they once built an entire Hogwarts Castle in silence and called it a date. yes, they do have a room full of just their Legos in their house.

Sylvanian Family collection obsession. Don’t ask. They both treat it seriously and Luna even built a while neighborhood on a shelf in their room.

shopping with a twist— they ask the cashier or whoever to pick either of their cards. a game they like to play on who pays… they both hold up black cards which is hilarious as it is but whatever, right? the winner gets to pay… oh! and bragging rights.

matching jewelry. they started with rings, then bracelets, then necklaces. now it’s a full-on routine for them to get two whenever they buy jewelry.

back hugs and pinky interlocks. unabashed flirting. in front of the members. in interviews. on stage. late-night talks with soft music playing. sometimes they don’t talk. just lean on each other and listen.

hair routines— Luna braids his hair when he’s anxious. he massages her scalp when she’s tired.

voice memos— they send each other goodnight voice notes or singing voice notes when apart. Jeonghan once whispered, “Sleep well, my moon,” and Luna made it her alarm.

market rituals— sometimes they go to small outdoor markets together in masks and hoodies. they buy random antiques they absolutely don’t need but will decorate their house with anyway.

Luna (holding up a weird cat decoration): “Do we need this?”

Jeonghan: “No. But we might.”

weekly movie night— one week Luna picks (rom-coms), the next Jeonghan picks (thrillers). they argue, throw popcorn, and end up cuddled up halfway through anyway.

Jeonghan: “Why are you crying over a notebook?”

Luna (sniffling): “It’s called ‘The Notebook’ and because it’s fucking sad, you heartless demon!”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

Luna’s dolphin-like hearing. Jeonghan will whisper “Dolphin mode activated” anytime she hears something suspicious from across the room.

calling each other “Your Highness” when they want something.

ever since they got engaged, Jeonghan made it a habit to pretend to propose any time he drops something.

Jeonghan: “Jiyeon-ah… I’ve been wanting to do this for years… will you—”

Luna: “If you don’t stand up, I will be returning this ring.”

playing rock-paper-scissors to settle ANY disagreement. They once played 14 rounds to decide who would turn off the light.

Jeonghan using Luna’s forehead as a stress ball. she lets him.

they made up silent signals across a room for “I’m hungry,” “Let’s go home,” and “Save me from this convo.”

Jeonghan raises one eyebrow: Save me.

Luna tugs her ear: I’m done here.

fans later noticed and theorized for years. there are videos about it online.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

constant physical touch. Luna gets clingy when overwhelmed. Jeonghan lets her wrap herself around him like a koala. Jeonghan lies on her lap and lets her hum lullabies to him when he’s overstimulated.

they instinctively find each other in crowded rooms. like clockwork.

Luna mimics Jeonghan’s breathing during anxiety attacks.

Baby talk. “Baby, tired?” “Mhm. Hannie is here though.” people find it cringy? they couldn’t care less what people think.

before any performance, they find each other backstage, touch foreheads, and breathe together for a few seconds.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

just their entire relationship in general.

their relationship getting revealed by Dispatch after 5 years of secrecy… don’t forget the engagement. fans screamed, cried, made edits in seconds.

the engagement ring reveal— Luna lifted her mic and the sparkle hit the camera just right.

Jeonghan gifting Luna her bunny on Christmas, and her crying and naming it Bugs.

Luna writing songs after songs about Jeonghan and him proudly bragging about it on Weverse.

JeongNa in its entirety is iconic.

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nicknames for Jeonghan:

Han, Hannie, Jeonghannie, Jeongie, Angel Baby, My Love, My Angel Boy, Baby, Yoon Jeonghan (in her ‘I’m-about-to-slap-you’ tone)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Jeonghan’s nicknames for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Nana, Love of My Life, My Moon, My Pretty Moon, Pretty Angel, Angel Baby, Dolphin (“Can you hear what the neighbor’s thinking too?”), Gremlin (when she’s annoying him for attention), Princess & Bunny (when and only when they are getting freaky)

iv. CONTACTS

my angel boy🪽 & my pretty moon🌙

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names

it is their favorite nicknames for each other. they picked each other’s contact names when they started dating, and it’s been the same since.

one time Seungkwan borrowed Luna’s phone and said, “What in the fanfiction fuck is ‘my angel boy’?!” Jeonghan saw it and changed his own to match her energy. originally he had her saved as ‘my baby’. it was either symmetry or death.

only contacts in their phone that has an emoji so they can spot each other faster.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Jeonghan’s pic: stolen photo from across the couch— Jeonghan pouting while shoving his whole face on her phone.

Luna’s pic: selfie Luna took randomly— pouting with giant puppy eyes, head tilted up. Jeonghan caught her doing it and laughed, “Wait— send me the pout. I’m changing mine.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

the contact stayed the same for years. the pictures, they have matching ones changed here and there, however, this current one stuck the longest.

both pictures show just their eyes and noses angled up at the camera. they call it “puppy vision.”

JOSHUA & LUNA ─── JoshNa

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

they look like elegant royal heirs but act like chaotic rich siblings in a k-drama who would prank you with a smile.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

Joshua met Luna during the trainee days through Jeonghan, who basically adopted her first. Joshua was instantly easy to talk to because foreigners unite energy. they instantly bonded over being awkward at Korean, giggling when they misunderstood simple words, and feeling overwhelmed by culture shock.

despite their demure appearances, Joshua clocked her chaos energy instantly and decided, “Yeah. She’s one of us.”

Joshua (laughing in broken Korean): “You… want… to fight?”

Luna (dead serious): “Yes. You’re first.”

Joshua: “Cool. We’ll get along.”

over time, that camaraderie turned into an unshakeable ride-or-die sibling bond.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

learning Korean together was the start— they made flashcards for each other. corrected each other’s pronunciation in the most savage ways. competed over who could memorize slang faster (Joshua always cheated).

bonding over culture shock— confused by Korean convenience store food combos (Joshua once thought tteokbokki was dessert).

Luna once bowed at a parking meter thinking it was a person.

Luna (mortified): “I just bowed to a lamp post.”

Joshua (laughing hysterically): “It probably bowed back in spirit.”

homesickness bonding— shared playlists full of songs from home. helped each other during holidays when family felt too far away. talked about their life back at their hometown to make it less lonely.

shared a secret pact: “If one of us makes it, the other has to.”

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

both secretly feral. publicly pretty; privately pretty insane. they’re the type to help you up if you trip, only to immediately mock you to tears. think mean-but-supportive-older-siblings-who-think-you’re-stupid-but-also-their-entire-world.

mutual worshippers— “We’re the prettiest.” “We’re the smartest.” “It’s us or nobody.”

their arguments sound like royal debates.

Joshua (crossing his arms): “I’m clearly the favorite child.”

Luna (smirking): “Favorite? Babe, I am the bloodline.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

Luna, despite her British roots, fits Joshua’s soft LA vibe perfectly.

long drives with indie music. froyo runs at midnight. fipping overpriced lattes while pretending they’re in a Netflix drama.

a rich, effortlessly cool aura that makes people wonder if they’re lowkey celebrities shopping undercover (they are).

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Joshua brings out: Luna’s instinct to feel safe enough to be both soft and crazy.

Luna brings out: Joshua’s mischievous, sarcastic side more than anyone else can. around Luna, Joshua stops being just the perfect gentleman— he becomes playful, petty, chaotic. he spoils her like a literal princess: opening doors, carrying her stuff, paying for everything without a word. in return, Luna brings out his hidden wild side and always gasses him up like he’s a Marvel superhero.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Joshua for Luna: is her emotional buffer. (“Take a breath, Jiyeonie. You’re doing amazing.”)

Luna for Joshua: is his chaos therapist. (“It’s okay to be crazy sometimes. Who cares?”)

they are twin flames, but in the siblings who would murder for each other but also steal each other’s fries way. if Luna needs a co-conspirator for something mildly illegal (like sneaking snacks into dance practice)? Joshua’s first call.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

DIY besties— Joshua taught Luna pottery, bracelet making, sewing patches on jackets, perfume making. Luna taught Joshua how to crochet, how to knit, how to paint with acrylics without making a mess (he failed that one).

Joshua (covered in blue paint): “I’m Picasso.”

Luna: “You’re a crime scene.”

birthday craft exchange— every year, instead of expensive gifts, they hand-make each other something. Joshua once knit her the ugliest scarf known to mankind. She wore it for a week straight.

kitchen disasters— they have a standing ‘cook something hideous once a year’ tradition. their ‘rainbow pasta’ incident is still forbidden to discuss.

English gossip sessions— whenever something juicy happens, they immediately switch to English and huddle in a corner like high school mean girls.

Luna (whispering): “Did you see that?”

Joshua: “Oh we’re TALKING about it.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

speaking in English when gossiping or trauma dumping.

fake royalty titles: Joshua = Prince Joshua of Los Angeles. Luna = Princess Luna of London

they address each other as ‘Your Highness’ when being petty.

random flex battles— “I have better hair.” “My accent’s hotter.” “I’m more photogenic.”

mimicking each other’s accents: Joshua’s fake British accent = crime against humanity. Luna’s LA surfer bro impression = equally criminal.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

small acts of service™— Joshua opens doors for her without thinking. moves her chair before she sits. carries her bags if they’re heavy. unscrews tight bottle caps without being asked.

gentle checking-in— texts her “Drink water” reminders. sends her memes when he knows she’s stressed. reminds her to go to sleep when he sees she’s online, only for Luna to clap back with “Why are YOU still awake?”

“you good?” looks— cross a crowded room, one glance = full conversation.

Joshua (handing her a glass of water): “Princesses don’t get dehydrated.”

Luna (grinning): “Neither do peasants. Drink with me.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

when they both tripped on stage but styled it out like it was choreography.

their chaotic Weverse live— Luna doing Joshua’s makeup blindfolded. Joshua ending up looking like a circus clown and still smiling proudly.

their “DIY Disaster” YouTube vlog— built a crooked birdhouse. decorated it like it was a Picasso masterpiece. made it a running joke: “If this birdhouse survives, so will we.”

matching friendship rings reveal— quietly wore matching gold rings with the letter ‘J’ for years before fans noticed.

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s Nicknames for Joshua:

Joshie, Josh, Shua, Shush (chaotic nickname when he’s being noisy), Your Highness (sarcastic)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Joshua’s Nicknames for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Ji-Ji, Lunie, Princess Trouble (only when teasing)

iv. CONTACTS

prince joshie & princess jiyeonie

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names

it’s what they naturally call each other most. also because their bond is like chaotic but affectionate.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Joshua’s pic: Ryan (Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse) looking at himself in a mirror. because Ryan is delusional, fabulous, and self-obsessed— just like Joshua at peak confidence.

Luna’s pic: Raquelle (Ryan’s twin) looking smugly at herself in a mirror. because Raquelle is beautiful, chaotic, and the blueprint for petty queens— aka Luna in a nutshell.

Luna made Joshua binge Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse on a random Tuesday night. halfway through, they paused, pointed at the screen, and screamed, “THAT’S US.” changed their contact photos immediately with zero regrets.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

nope. haven’t event thought about it. this is the best one they have set. the only time they’ll even think about changing their contacts is if they find another iconic duo they relate to wholeheartedly… then they’ll consider.

JUN & LUNA ─── JunJi

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence.

shy chaos meets loyal gremlin— the ultimate slow-burn besties.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

when they first met, it was giving painfully polite strangers at a dinner party. both shy, both lowkey introverted around new people— they bowed awkwardly like 10 times in under a minute.

Jun thought she was so cool— “Wow… she’s like… fancy,” he whispered to himself after meeting her.

Luna, meanwhile, told Jeonghan later, “He looks like a prince but stands like a terrified deer.”

for the first few months, interactions were mostly: “Ah… hello…” “Did you eat?” then cue the awkward laughing.

but once they started spending time together during Korean lessons with the other foreign line members, the awkward walls crumbled.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

their friendship blossomed during survival Korean classes with Joshua, Minghao, and Vernon and other trainees. Luna would be extra enthusiastic about Jun’s Chinese culture and ask him all kinds of questions.

Luna: “Do you miss hot pot? I looked up a place! We should go!”

Jun, absolutely touched: “You would do that for me?”

they bonded over; language struggles, their homesickness, laughing at Joshua’s Americanized Korean pronunciation. trading “strangest food from your country” stories. roasting Vernon for already being lowkey fluent while they were dying over Hangul. slowly but surely, they became the type of friends who didn’t need to talk all the time to feel close.

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

Luna is quiet; Jun is also quiet. BUT Luna activates Jun like an uno reverse card— making him louder, funnier, and more mischievous when she’s around.

Luna is Jun’s designated #1 fan. if Jun breathes in the general direction of a stage, Luna is clapping like a proud soccer mom.

“GO HUI-HUI GO!!” she yells from backstage while the staff die laughing.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

a weird mix of peaceful and chaotic. they’ll be chilling in comfortable silence one second— and then the next second Luna is making Jun do TikTok dances he absolutely hates but secretly enjoys because she’s hyping him up.

Jun (learning the dance regardless): “I hate you.”

Luna: “You’re welcome. Now body roll more aggressively. Our fans would like that.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Jun brings out: Luna’s calmness— when she’s around him, she’s visibly more chill, grounded, less frantic.

Luna brings out: Jun’s playful side— the one who teases and pranks and isn’t afraid to be ridiculous.

they are each other’s emotional support weirdos.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Jun for Luna: he is her ‘judgement-free zone’ where she can be extra silly without fear of being judged.

Luna for Jun: she is his external hype squad and accidental English tutor.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

English/Chinese language exchanges (but make it chaotic). Luna trying to pronounce Mandarin tones correctly while Jun physically cringes. they regularly teach each other memes from their own countries and rate them from 1-10.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

pretending to be ‘official interpreters’ whenever someone asks them a question.

Jun: “She said she wants dumplings.”

Luna (who said nothing of the sort): “He said he’s buying us all dinner.”

calling each other by their Chinese or English names randomly for dramatic effect. “ Wen Junhui, you disappoint me.” “Luna Bae, this is why you can’t have nice things.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

Luna always sends Jun support when he’s away in China— coffee trucks, food trucks, personalized gifts, flowers, literally sending her love internationally like it’s an Olympic sport.

Jun, in return: spams her with selfies of him holding random cute objects like stuffed animals. makes her random playlists titled ‘For When You’re Sad’ and ‘Luna’s Emo Hours.’

simple and small acts of comfort: Luna reminding Jun to drink water after dancing. Jun sneaking snacks into her bag before shoots because “you always forget to eat.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

that time they got lost trying to find a restaurant in Osaka because both assumed the other knew the way.

when Jun got sick during a Chinese schedule and Luna sent him a selfie holding up half a heart— and he sent his own back completing it. “We’re the most powerful friendship duo, sorry Jeonghan hyung.”

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nicknames for Jun:

Junnie, Hui-Hui, Moon #1, 小王子 (xiǎo wángzǐ / ‘Little Prince’)— she uses it when she’s being especially annoying or teasing.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Jun’s nicknames for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Moon #2, 小月亮 (xiǎo yuè liàng / ‘Little Moon’) — his nickname when he’s feeling soft and sentimental.

iv. CONTACTS

moon #1 & moon #2

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

they both love the nicknames and never found anything more perfect for each other. ‘Moon #1’ for Jun since his surname in Korean is Moon. While ‘Moon #2’ for Luna since her name means Moon in Latin. Jun is number one since he is the oldest of the two. the names are just the right mix of cheesy, affectionate, and embarrassing (which makes it even better).

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Jun’s pic: a selfie Jun sent while sick— holding up half a heart with his hand, looking adorably tired but trying to smile.

Luna’s pic: Luna’s reply selfie— completing the heart with her hand, trying to smile the same way Jun did in his picture.

when Jun was sick during filming in China, sent the half-heart selfie. Luna who missed him, immediately sent the matching half. Luna was so emotional about it, she messaged him: “Save that forever or I’m fighting you.”

Jun replied: “Already set as your profile pic. Stay mad.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

nope. never. it’s been years and they refuse to change them. Luna claims it’s ‘friendship law’ at this point. Jun said if she ever changed it, he’d dramatically unfollow her for 10 minutes out of spite.

HOSHI & LUNA ─── SoonYeon

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

hyper-competitive dance soulmates but also mother and her overly dramatic iPad tiger child.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

when they first met, Hoshi’s aura was very serious and intimidating. as dance leader even during trainee days, he had naturally high standards and a razor sharp eye for mistakes. Luna, with her ballet background and clean movement lines, immediately caught Hoshi’s attention in the best way. he found her movements “so clean it scratched an itch in his brain I didn’t know existed.”— she rarely needed corrections. because of this, Hoshi, who could be blunt and scary, was surprisingly soft towards her. it shocked a lot of the other trainees.

first few meetings— lots of stiff, formal energy. bowing 90° to each other constantly. accidentally speaking to each other in formal speech even when everyone else dropped it.

Hoshi: (bowing furiously) “Hello, I’m Kwon Soonyoung.”

Luna: (panicking) “Oh…yes! Hi– I’m Bae Jiyeon. Nice to meet you.”

cue them doing that awkward shuffle where both people try to move out of the way but keep moving in the same direction. now? Luna casually drags Hoshi by the sleeve to fix his hoodie and lectures him like a tired mom, while Hoshi whines dramatically like a six-year-old denied a Happy Meal.

Luna: (adjusting his hoodie) “You can’t be a tiger looking like a mess, Shi-Shi.”

Hoshi: (whining) “BUT I’M A CUTE TIGER, JIYEONIE.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

dance was their ultimate bridge. Hoshi became curious about Luna’s ballet background and often asked her about certain movements, how she learned body control, etc. Luna would mirror that curiosity, always peppering him with questions about hip-hop foundations, popping, and choreo process.

they both stayed behind after practice hours a lot— stretching, freestyling, battling for who could hold a plank longer, etc. Hoshi realized that Luna learned choreography freakishly fast— she picked up footwork and hand placement in almost half the time of others, and it impressed him so much he once jokingly asked:

Hoshi: (mock serious) “…Are you even human, Jiyeonie?”

Luna: (grinning) “Just built different, Soonyoungie-oppa.”

as dance leader, Hoshi quickly realized that Luna wasn’t just good— she was performance team level good. he really, really wanted her to join the performance team when they were unofficially discussing future team divisions during trainee days.

Hoshi: (in a practice room, breathless from dancing) “You’re Performance Team material.”

Luna: (laughing) “Is this your way of recruiting me?”

Hoshi: (grinning) “You should be honored.”

he genuinely thought her ballet background and street dance fusion style would revolutionize their choreography. however, Luna was also gaining attention for her vocals— trainers constantly praised her tone and technique, and she started being pushed toward vocal team.

Hoshi, being a little dramatic but also mature about it, agreed. He knew she deserved the vocal team position because her voice was too beautiful to sideline.

years later on a Knowing Brothers episode when talking about Luna’s debut, Hoshi said proudly and dramatically: “Honestly, if Luna wanted to, she could be in every unit. She fits Performance Team, Hip-Hop Team, Vocal Team… she’s literally Seventeen itself, I’m serious.”

their inside joke forever became Hoshi pretending to dramatically “steal her back” for the performance team every time she posted a dance cover or performed powerful choreo.

Hoshi: (mock whispering in her ear) “You know you’re one of us at heart, right? Performance Team blood runs in you.”

Luna: (laughing, pushing him away) “Stay mad, Shi-Shi.”

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

absolute chaos meets motherly micromanagement— Luna is that tired mom with 3 hours of sleep managing her hyperactive toddler (Hoshi). meanwhile, Hoshi is that pet tiger who thinks he’s fierce but looks like a stuffed animal.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

surprisingly chill… for like 5 minutes. they start calm: busy on their phones, maybe stretching, discussing new dance trends.

then somehow it devolves into: TikTok dance battles at 3AM. Hoshi trying to stack random objects on Luna’s head to see how long she can balance it (she’s scarily good). Luna making Hoshi practice ballet pirouettes and almost passing out from dizziness.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Hoshi brings out Luna’s: competitiveness to new heights. he pushes and encourages her to be even sharper, faster, more daring with choreography. makes her get OUT of her perfectionist, “everything must be clean” shell sometimes and just vibe.

Luna brings Hoshi’s: softness to balance his leadership intensity. she reminds him it’s okay to laugh, to not always be in ‘Dance Teacher Mode.’ she makes him feel cared for and seen outside of his dance ability.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Hoshi for Luna: her energy booster and confidence hype man, the one who reminds her she’s unstoppable.

Luna for Hoshi: his emotional support momager + the only one who can tell him “you’re overworking” and he’ll listen.

Hoshi: (chanting dramatically) “Our Jiyeonie is the dance queen!”

Luna: (laughing) “You’re so embarrassing, stop!!”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

supporting each other’s weird interests 3000%.

Luna wears tiger print whenever Hoshi has a big event. Hoshi attends Luna’s solo dance performances schedules even if he has to sneak in with sunglasses and a hat.

gift exchange tradition— Luna must buy Hoshi anything tiger-related she spots. a tiger print bag, tiger slippers, even tiger-patterned socks. you name it, it’s his.

Hoshi must send her TikToks he thinks she can nail dance-wise and challenge her to do it first.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

‘Horanghae Nation President’ = Luna’s title.

Hoshi pretending to be an actual tiger cub, growling softly whenever he wants attention.

Hoshi: (tiny roar) “grrr” 🥺

Luna: (patting his head) “Yes, yes, my scary little beast.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

if either one has a rough day, they automatically end up in a dance studio together— no talking, just music and movement.

Luna’s major cuteness aggression towards Hoshi—randomly grabs his cheeks mid-conversation. squeals “AHH, SO SQUISHY!” and aggressively hugs him.

posting silly dance covers and challenges together like a chaotic mother-son duo on TikTok.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

a jaw-droppingly sexy dance cover they posted once to a The Weeknd song— totally caught fans off-guard because usually their content is pure crackhead energy.

fans losing their minds because “Mother and Child just ate us alive and didn’t even say sorry.”

during a group live for Luna’s birthday, Hoshi randomly got super soft and said— Hoshi: “You’re one of my favorite people, you make this team better just by being you.”

Luna (tearing up): “Is the tiger…crying?”

Hoshi: “NO, IT’S JUST MY EYE SWEAT.”

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nicknames for Hoshi:

Shi-Shi, Soonie, Soonyoungie, My Pet Tiger, Squish-Cub (especially when he’s pouting), Baby Tiger

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Hoshi’s nicknames for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Ballerina Boss, Tiger Mama, Ji-Ji, Performance Team Member #5 (when he wants to annoy Woozi)

iv. CONTACTS

shi-shi & ji-ji

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

they literally call each other these nicknames in real life all the time— it felt wrong to save each other as anything else. plus, they wanted to match like the clingy chaotic besties they are.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Hoshi’s pic: a photo of him at a fansign wearing a fuzzy bear hoodie, doing the Horanghae claw pose aggressively but cutely.

Luna’s pic: a photo of Luna also at a fansign wearing tiger ears and big cat mittens, holding her hands up like a ferocious kitten.

both photos were found randomly on fan accounts. they both sent the pictures to each other at the same time in a chaotic “OH MY GOD LOOK AT YOU” moment and decided to change their contact photos immediately.

Luna: (texting) “BRO. HOW ARE YOU A WHOLE BEAR-ASS TIGER RN.”

Hoshi: (texting) “YOU’RE LITERALLY A TIGER- KITTEN HYBRID TRYING TO BE FIERCE. STOP.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

no. they love the current names and pictures way too much. it’s a badge of honor at this point.

WONWOO & LUNA ─── WonNa

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

calm meets calmer. the human embodiment of ‘silent understanding’ and ‘two introverts chilling in a room five feet apart because they vibe.’

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

Luna has always been good at keeping her cool, but meeting Wonwoo? she short-circuited a little. he wasn’t loud. He wasn’t intimidating in the traditional way. it was the eyes— the sharp, catlike gaze that seemed to see straight into her soul.

Luna: (to herself, first day) “Holy shit, is he glaring at me?”

reality: he was literally just existing. he didn’t see her at all. she was a blur… literally. Wonwoo was blind and existing. ironically, Luna experienced what others often feel when they first meet her— that wall of silent intensity.

first few weeks, she’d freeze up whenever Wonwoo was around, treating him like a final boss she wasn’t ready to fight. it was funny. Luna wasn’t intimidated by Seungcheol or Woozi like a lot were. it was Wonwoo. but once she started catching him smiling at dumb jokes or catching glimpses of his laugh where his eyes would crinkle and his sharp image would completely soften?

Luna: (whispering to Joshua) “I was scared of a literal teddy bear. I deserve jail time.”

Wonwoo: (soft laugh) “You were scared of me? That’s cute.”

now, they’re so comfortable, Luna jokes that she can predict his every blink.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

it started because Wonwoo heard from other trainees that Luna had a hidden rap training background.

Wonwoo: (serious) “You used to rap? Show me.”

Luna: (horrified) “No. Immediate rejection. Try again next year.”

Luna was shy about it— rapping was the one thing she wasn’t confident in. in fact, her old trainers from her previous company only tested her on it for a few months before she joined to PLEDIS.

Wonwoo didn’t push too hard, but he never forgot. months later, during a random evaluation, trainers asked Luna to rap… and she transformed. her flow was sharp, her delivery clean— it was like seeing a whole different Luna. Wonwoo (and the other trainees lowkey) clapped without even thinking.

Wonwoo: (quiet but awed) “You’re insane. Why don’t you do it more?”

Luna: (shrugging, bashful) “It’s not my main thing…”

Wonwoo: (smirking) “It should be.”

they bonded after that— over rap, rhythm, phrasing. Luna also became Wonwoo’s unofficial English tutor when he needed help with rap lyrics. she would patiently explain slang, nuances, and tone.

Wonwoo: (after Luna explained ‘pull up’) “So it’s not… actually pulling something up somewhere?”

Luna: (grinning) “Correct, Woo.”

these quiet moments— shoulders brushing as they pored over lyrics together— built a solid, wordless trust between them.

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

black cat x doberman. they’re so low energy sometimes that others wonder if they’re even alive.

Seungkwan: (mock screaming) “SAY SOMETHING! BLINK! BREATHE! MOVE!”

Luna + Wonwoo: (barely glancing up) “…hi.”

quiet comfort. a safe zone where neither feels the pressure to entertain.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

peak ‘comfortable silence’ energy. they could sit for hours, gaming or reading, exchanging maybe two words but feeling totally at peace. no forced conversation. just existing together.

Wonwoo: (passing her a controller) “Ready?”

Luna: (nodding, stretching) “Let’s go.”

it’s the most healing, non-demanding dynamic either of them has.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Wonwoo brings out Luna’s: patience and he grounds her. in the chaos of idol life, he’s one of her few ‘still points.’ with him, she doesn’t feel the need to perform or impress— she can just be. Luna becomes even softer, even more patient with herself around Wonwoo.

Luna brings out Wonwoo’s: quiet warmth shine brighter. he smiles more, jokes a little more, even initiates conversation with her.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Wonwoo for Luna: is the silent protector— he doesn’t say much, but you best believe he notices when Luna’s not feeling okay.

Luna for Wonwoo: is the gentle cheerleader— noticing when Wonwoo needs silent support and giving it without fuss.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

gaming sessions— Wonwoo taught Luna gaming 101. she was tragically bad at first— dying every 2 minutes, asking dumb questions. he never once teased her, only explaining patiently over and over again.

Wonwoo: (explaining for the 10th time) “Click B to crouch, Jiyeon-ah. B.”

Luna: (squinting at controller) “WHERE IS B?!”

now they game together all the time— she’s decent, but the moment she gets too into it, her sailor mouth comes out in full force.

Luna: (in Korean-English hybrid rage) “Ya, what the—! Bro what the fuck! Why in the flying fuck?!”

Wonwoo: (calmly laughing) “Language, Jiyeonie.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

Luna dramatically ‘fainting’ every time Wonwoo wears a button up with his glasses and looks like a hot professor.

Luna: (pretending to swoon) “Somebody stop this man. It’s too much.”

Wonwoo: (adjusting glasses, deadpan) “Study harder.”

Wonwoo teasing Luna by texting her random English slang he just learned and seeing if she cringes.

Wonwoo: (text at 3 AM) “Bro, that’s lowkey bussin fr fr.”

Luna: (dying inside) “You’re banned from the internet.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

Luna wordlessly cleaning Wonwoo’s glasses if she spots even a speck of dust— he’ll just stand still and tilt his head like a cat until she’s done.

Wonwoo acting like a literal dad scolding her for bad eye habits: (serious) “You’re gonna ruin your eyesight. Stop holding your phone so close, Bae Jiyeon.”

Luna: (mocking) “Dad, it’s fineee.”

Wonwoo: (pushing her hand away gently) “Arm’s length. Always.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

that one gaming live where Luna lost badly and was clearly about to start cussing. Wonwoo, with the reflexes of a Marvel superhero, immediately wrapped one arm around her shoulders and slapped his hand over her mouth. fans lost their minds at the smoothness.

Luna: (muffled behind his hand) “MMMPH!!!”

Wonwoo: (calm, smiling at camera) “She’s fine. She’s just… expressing strong emotions.”

legendary clip. fans still edit it into meme videos about friendship trauma.

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nickname for Wonwoo

Woo, Wonie, Won-Won, Woon, Woonie, Catboy (when teasing him)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Wonwoo’s nickname for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Loony (Harry Potter reference), Trouble (when she curses too much gaming)

iv. CONTACTS

wonie & trouble

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

it’s what they naturally call each other the most. it just feels right. ‘Wonie’ is cute and Luna loves how it sounds. ‘Trouble’ because Luna swears like a sailor when gaming and he finds it secretly adorable.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Wonwoo’s pic: a stolen selfie of Wonwoo looking mildly confused after she shoved her phone in his face. during a gaming break. Luna attacked Wonwoo with the phone; Wonwoo was too stunned to resist. at least he was smiling (awkwardly) after he blinked like a deer caught in headlights.

Luna’s pic: areally pretty selfie Luna took using his phone when she stole it while he was distracted. she looked so happy and carefree that he kept it.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

nope. Luna knows she’s never getting another candid cute pic like that of Wonwoo unless she tackles him. meanwhile, Wonwoo is way too lazy to ever update his contacts. also, he likes that selfie too much (but he’ll never admit it out loud).

WOOZI & LUNA ─── LuZi

i. OVERVIEW:

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

musicians at heart— the composer and his melody. they aren’t loud or over-the-top. they’re those quietly brilliant kids in class you only notice when you realize they’re carrying the whole group project. Luna thrives in feeling things deeply and translating them into melodies, and Woozi— literal sound engineer of her feelings— is the one who structures and shapes it.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

during their trainee years, Woozi and Luna were in two completely different universes— not in a bad way, just… parallel. Luna had Jeonghan; Woozi had himself, he gravitated towards himself. their conversations were strictly “Hello,” “Good work today,” and “Eat well.” Very formal. Very awkward.

Luna thought he was a bit intense but respected the hell out of him. Woozi thought she was kind of intimidating because she observed too much and he was suspicious of anyone that observant.

trainee Luna: “Good morning, Jihoon-shi!”

trainee Woozi, blinking aggressively: “Y-Yeah. Morning.” (internally: why is she so… bright??? it’s 7 AM???)

now they are partners-in-(musical)-crime. Woozi’s the first person Luna wants to show her new lyric idea to. Luna’s one of the few people aside from the other members Woozi trusts enough to ask for honest feedback. they still don’t have super deep personal talks often, but when they do, it’s surprisingly raw and supportive.

Luna barging into his studio, grinning: “I wrote something new!”

Woozi, deadpan but fond: “Did you at least sleep this time or is this another 3 AM masterpiece?”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

Luna being recruited into the Seventeen project was the start. suddenly, Woozi had to actually work with her— not just awkwardly bow at the practice room door. she was curious about songwriting and producing— not just surface-level curious, but taking actual notes curious.

Woozi noticed her genuine passion and couldn’t help but mentor her a little. he appreciated that she didn’t just ask annoying questions like, “What’s your favorite chord?” but instead asked, “How do you know when a track feels finished?” over time, he started calling her into the studio with a casual, “You free? I need a second opinion.”

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

calm, focused, creative. it’s two perfectionists bonding over art, but without suffocating each other. Luna is slightly more expressive; Woozi is the cool-headed editor. he hones her wild ideas into clean executions; she pulls him into more experimental zones. in short: student and teacher turned collaborators.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

quiet music nerd energy. lots of “listen to this” and “what do you think about this hook?”

occasional comfortable silences where one is working and the other is doodling lyrics. not much small talk— mostly hyper-focused music conversations punctuated by dry jokes.

Luna tapping her pencil on her notebook: “Do you think this bridge is too cheesy?”

Woozi, sipping coffee without looking up: “You’re cheesy. It works.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Woozi brings out Luna’s: confidence in her own musical instincts. patience to refine her ideas without losing passion. a more technical, structured approach to creativity.

Luna brings out Woozi’s: slightly more playful, experimental side. ability to loosen his tight grip on perfection. she is a reminder that music is supposed to be felt just as much as it’s crafted.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Woozi for Luna: mentor, quality control manager, quiet cheerleader. the person whose approval feels like winning an Olympic gold.

Luna for Woozi: muse, chaos bringer (in a good way), someone who reminds him why he loved music before it became a job.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

sharing drafts and lyric ideas late at night.

studio jam sessions where they don’t speak much— just vibe and build. sometimes they’ll spend hours in the same room, each doing their own thing, only breaking the silence when one of them says, “Hey, listen to this real quick.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

Luna constantly calling Woozi ‘President of the Sound Department’ whenever he gets too nitpicky about mixing.

Woozi teasing Luna that she writes “too many heartbreak ballads for someone who’s not heartbroken and very much in love.”

Luna threatening to make a diss track every time Woozi rejects one of her beat ideas (“I’m this close to cooking you in 16 bars, Hoonie.”)

Woozi’s fake-deadpan reaction to every one of her new lyrics: “It’s missing… ‘baby’. Put ‘baby’ in it.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

whenever Luna feels stuck, Woozi doesn’t give big pep talks. he just tosses her a spare notebook and says: “Write it out. Doesn’t have to make sense. Doesn’t even have to rhyme. Just get it out.”

that simple act— that permission to make a mess— usually pulls her out of her slump. when Woozi’s stressed, Luna slips him candy under his keyboard without a word. (Sugar = productivity.)

Luna grumbling after a rejection: “Maybe I should just quit music and become a florist.”

Woozi, dry as ever: “Florists still have to work with thorns. You’d just write sad songs about roses.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

Luna making her official producing debut with Woozi’s help— her first-ever co-produced track was born after a marathon 11-hour studio lock-in. fans still talk about the behind-the-scenes clip where Woozi muttered, “You’re a monster now. I created a monster,” while Luna cried happy tears.

Luna, teary-eyed: “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Woozi, awkwardly patting her head: “Yeah. Yeah, you could’ve. But I’m still taking 50% credit.”

their matching ‘Producer Line’ handshake (extremely complicated, overly dramatic, and ends with them fake-saluting each other like anime characters).

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nickname for Woozi:

Jihoonie, Hoon, Hoonie, Chief Lee, Boss Baby (When she’s being annoying)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Woozi’s nickname for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Co-Captain, Muse-nim, Lyric Gremlin (affectionate), Melody, Siren (referring to her voice)

iv. CONTACTS

jihoonie & jiyeonie

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

their friendship is simple and based on mutual respect. their contacts are mostly functional and simple. the most common nickname they call each other is used because according to Woozi: “It’s too complicated to have your name something weird like you have for the other guys.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Woozi’s pic: stolen photo where Woozi’s cheeks are squished by his beanie, smiling like a dumpling baby. Luna caught Woozi off-guard at the studio for his photo. Luna refuses to change it because “it’s peak cuteness and must be preserved.”

Luna’s pic: she took a selfie holding a half-heart to her cheek with the caption “Wooahae”. she had no contact photo for a long time— until Luna physically forced him to set one. Luna spammed him with “Wooahae” selfies until she got sick of waiting and changed his contact manually. Woozi grumbled but secretly finds it adorable.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

absolutely not. Luna’s too obsessed with the dumpling pic. while Woozi’s too lazy and secretly sentimental to change hers. so he couldn’t be bothered.

THE8 & LUNA ─── LuHao

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

‘twin where have you been?’ ~ — same person, different fonts. they are the gender-bent versions of each other who will judge you openly but lovingly, no hesitation— professional ‘side-eye then sip tea’ partners.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

when Luna first met Minghao, he looked absolutely lost— big wide eyes, hovering awkwardly behind Jun like he’d been dropped into another planet. she immediately related to him, being a ‘foreigner’ herself. it was mutual confusion between them over why there was a girl in their group, but it was never rude, just puzzled.

Minghao, blinking at her: “Why…girl?”

Luna, blinking back: “Trust me, I’m just as confused as you are.”

over time, he became one of her fiercest silent defenders when people doubted or side-eyed her presence in SEVENTEEN. he wasn’t loud about it— he was silent but deadly with his shade and side-eyes at anyone disrespectful.

Minghao (deadpan): “Their opinions are invalid.”

Luna, laughing: “My knight in shiny apathy.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

Korean classes were their bonding ground. Luna knew more Korean, so she helped him a lot (with Jun’s occasional help). it started with simple study sessions, but quickly became Luna dragging Minghao by the sleeve and saying things like:“Repeat after me: ‘Hello, I am a king.’”

Minghao, confused but obedient: “…Hello, I am a king?”

Luna: “Exactly. Manifest it.”

she helped him not just with words, but with slang, humor, and reading between the lines of Korean culture which she had learned from her peers as well. in turn, Minghao would teach her Chinese idioms and phrases, making their tutoring sessions this weird fusion of cultures and chaotic humor.

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

both have permanently installed Resting Judgment Faces™. when something stupid happens in the group, both will silently make eye contact— no words needed, the disdain is communicated through vibes.

Luna is impulsive and chaotic, while Minghao is the “breathe, bestie” squad.

Minghao (patting Luna’s back when she’s about to pop off): “Inhale. Exhale. Violence…later.”

they balance each other— Luna acts first, Minghao calculates first.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

strangely peaceful. they will sit in total silence for hours— Minghao painting, Luna scribbling lyrics or doodles— and it’s not awkward at all. they also exchange the occasional deadpan commentary:

Luna, staring at her sketch: “This looks like a drunk chicken.”

Minghao, not looking up: “So do you sometimes.”

Luna: “Facts.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Minghao brings out Luna’s: self-awareness and patience. she’s naturally impulsive, but with him, she remembers to slow down, reflect, and think bigger picture.

Luna brings out Minghao’s: playfulness and emotional openness. he’s naturally reserved and mysterious, but around Luna, he lets loose more easily— jokes, playful jabs, even chaotic laughter that shocks everyone else.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Minghao for Luna: her voice of reason and her unofficial ‘calm the chaos’ mentor. her emotional regulator when things get too overwhelming.

Luna for Minghao: his creative spark and emotional compass. she reminds him that it’s okay to not always be the cool and composed philosopher, that vulnerability is powerful too.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

tea time— Minghao taught Luna traditional Chinese tea rituals.

Luna: “So no milk? No sugar??”

Minghao (judging): “Absolutely not. You weirdo.”

Luna taught him the British-style tea with milk and sugar, resulting in 10 minutes of pure judgment followed by gagging noises after he tried it.

painting sessions— very soothing. Luna’s style is chaotic and colorful; Minghao’s is minimalistic and philosophical.

fashion adventures— they are airport fashion gods. not matching exactly but matching aesthetics— same energy, different fonts. fans call them the ‘Vogue Twins’

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

pretending to be silent bodyguards for the rest of SEVENTEEN. Luna and Minghao, in sunglasses and stone faces behind Jeonghan: “Sir, this peasant tried to breathe near you.”

ranking tea quality like they’re Michelin judges.

Minghao (sniffing tea): “This smells like regret.”

Luna: “Zero stars. Would not sip again.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

when Luna’s about to go nuclear on someone, Minghao casually pats her leg or back to ground her.

Minghao (softly): “Breathe, Jiyeon-ah. You’re too pretty for jail.”

when Minghao’s stressed and closing himself off, Luna sneaks in mini snacks or sketches memes and slips them under his door. sticky note from Luna: “You’re the coolest philosophical tea-drinking king I know. Smile or I’ll tell Jun you cried at a cat video.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

synced judging reactions captured on Weverse live multiple times— the side-eyes, the collective sighs, the synchronized head tilts.

once did an impromptu ‘silent roast battle’ at a fan meeting: literally just exchanging intense stares and shrugging judgmentally while fans screamed.

Luna once roasted Minghao in English, Minghao fired back in Chinese, Luna fake-cried and they both ended up laughing like lunatics while Seungkwan screamed in the background: “I’M SCARED OF THEM.”

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nickname for Minghao:

Hao, Hao-Hao, Xiao Hao (Little Hao), Twinie

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Minghao’s nickname for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Xiao Jiyeon (Little Jiyeon), Chaos Twin

iv. CONTACTS

twinie hao-hao & twinie jiyeonie

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

chaotic twin behavior. nicknames they naturally fell into. they fell into a habit of calling each other ‘twinie’ when addressing each other. they have gotten so used to it, it stuck.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Minghao’s pic: a picture of James from Team Rocket (Pokémon) sticking his tongue out— chaotic, dramatic, icon behavior.

Luna’s pic: a matching picture of Jessie from Team Rocket sticking her tongue out— fiery, overdramatic, slight menace but lovable.

found during a 3AM Pinterest deep dive together.

Minghao, pointing: “This…is us.”

Luna: “No lies detected.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

YES— constantly. Past contact photos include: the Siamese twin cats from Lady and the Tramp, Little Twin Stars from Sanrio, Shinchan and Himawari from Crayon Shin-chan, Tom and Jerry. it’s a long-standing tradition to change contacts to match iconic chaotic duos every six months or so.

Luna: “This is our thing.”

Minghao: “I’m pretty sure you do this with Joshua too.”

Luna: “Yeah, well… I’m the main character of this story.”

MINGYU & LUNA ─── MingNa

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

golden retriever in love with his badass fairy princess— the biggest ‘what if’ Carats will never get over of.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first Impression vs now:

Luna first thought Mingyu was stupidly attractive. Like— teen heartthrob level. then he opened his mouth… and she immediately went “Oh. He’s a puppy.” he was fumbling, blushing, dropping his water bottle, and giggling like a middle schooler when she said hi.

Luna (to herself): “He’s gonna be the death of me. But like, in a sweet way.”

Mingyu (internally screaming): “I’m going to marry her. Today. Right now.”

Mingyu was absolutely floored. genuinely thought she was a fairy princess that stumbled out of a Disney movie. forgot how to breathe for a good minute. thought she ‘glowed’ in the fluorescent trainee lights (he wasn’t even exaggerating).

and till this day he still thinks she glows. still would propose on the spot if given half a chance. Luna still sees him as the world’s biggest, stupidly cute, sweetest golden retriever. but now they’re best friends too— she can boss him around, roast him, hug him, and he’ll just wag his metaphorical tail and follow her around like it’s his life mission.

Luna (teasing): “Still got that little crush, Gyu?”

Mingyu (grinning wide): “Always.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

Mingyu was paralyzed around her during their trainee years. like, deer-in-headlights levels of awkward. every time Luna even glanced his way, he would immediately: trip over thin air, blush so hard he looked sunburnt, genuinely look like he was about to explode.

meanwhile, Seungcheol and Jeonghan (also secret admirers) at least managed to act cool around her. Mingyu? full malfunction.

one break during training, Luna casually sat next to him with a snack and just started chatting about the weather.

Luna (grinning): “You think it’s gonna rain today? I hope it rains. I like the smell.”

Mingyu (inwardly combusting): “Y-Yeah! Rain smells… good in a weird way! I mean— not like, bad! I mean— you smell—GOOD— wait—”

Luna burst out laughing at his panic— not mocking, but genuinely finding him adorable. that laugh broke the ice. Mingyu fell harder.

Mingyu (internally): “Oh my god. She’s the cutest person alive. I’m dead. Goodbye.”

from then, she’d always sit with him, joke with him, pull him into group convos, and slowly he unfurled like a shy puppy finally getting cuddled.

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

golden retriever x doberman dynamic to the MAX.

Mingyu: sunshine, clinginess, heart eyes 24/7. Luna: the slightly intimidating, beautiful doberman who secretly has a huge soft spot for her dumb golden retriever. he’s physically attached to her when possible — hugs, arm slings, resting his chin on her head because he’s TALL.

Mingyu: “Can I hug you?”

Luna (pretending to be annoyed but already opening her arms): “You’re already doing it, idiot.”

ater Luna and Jeonghan became a thing, Mingyu was hurt, but mostly just happy she found real love. never let the heartbreak ruin their friendship.

Mingyu (softly): “As long as you’re happy, I’m good.”

to this day, if someone asks Mingyu his ideal type, it’s Luna’s name and description that falls out without thinking.

Mingyu (panicking): “…Like…Luna. I mean—not LUNA Luna but like…someone Luna-LIKE??“

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

Luna’s gentle giant. no questions asked— if Luna’s sad, tired, stressed — Mingyu’s solution is immediate physical affection: giant bear hugs, carrying her around like she weighs nothing, stroking her hair while she vents, if Luna’s hungry, Mingyu starts cooking without even asking.

Luna: “Gyu-Gyu, I’m kinda hungry—”

Mingyu (already chopping onions): “What do you want? Spicy? Comfort food? Say less.”

they genuinely feel like home to each other— in a loud, goofy, heartfelt way.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Mingyu brings out Luna’s: softer, cuddlier side. lets her be small and protected without judgment— a rarity for someone as strong and self-reliant as her.

Luna brings out Mingyu’s: calmer, more centered side. helps him feel less self-conscious and more confident just being his genuine goofy, soft-hearted self. makes him feel seen and cherished beyond just his looks or talents.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Mingyu for Luna: emotional support teddy. the guy she can rely on to show up with hugs, food, and unconditional loyalty without asking for anything in return.

Luna for Mingyu: his fairy princess best friend who reminds him he’s worth loving even when he feels insecure. his anchor in the chaos.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

Instagram famous duo— lowkey obsessed with aesthetic selfies of each other. most of Luna’s viral candid shots? Mingyu’s handiwork. half of Mingyu’s boyfriend-core Instagram shots? Luna behind the camera, making kissy faces to make him laugh.

fashion addicts— shopping is religion. Italy Nana Tour? they were the only ones serving FITS on the last day.

trying on outfits, rating each other like judges on a reality show.

Mingyu: “11/10. Wife material.”

Luna (laughing): “You’re so biased.”

cuddle monsters— Luna randomly launching herself onto Mingyu’s lap? normal.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

Mingyu is Luna’s emotional support golden retriever. they joke that Mingyu has a ‘loyalty chip’ installed for Luna only.

Luna: “Sit next to me, Gyu.”

Mingyu (sitting immediately): “Okay!”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

piggy back rides— Mingyu offers them anytime Luna looks even slightly tired.

cheek squeezes + kisses— Luna aggressively squishing Mingyu’s cheeks is a daily event. he retaliates by planting a kiss on her forehead or cheek.

official SEVENTEEN cooks— always found side-by-side in the kitchen during group trips. have a natural rhythm together— chopping, stirring, taste-testing each other’s dishes.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ most iconic shared moments:

the Insomnia Zero confession— during a Going Seventeen filming, Mingyu casually confessed— Mingyu: “Jiyeon-ah, do you know I have a crush on you?”

Luna (heart spiking): “Ya! Stop lying!! People will misunderstand!!”

the ‘Biggest What If’ of SEVENTEEN history. before JeongNa was confirmed, fans were OBSESSED with Luna x Mingyu. the ‘triangle’ era between Jeonghan, Luna, and Seungcheol is iconic. but Jeonghan, Luna, and Mingyu? Legendary.

iii. NICKNAMES:

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nicknames for Mingyu:

Gyu, Gyu-Gyu, Migoo, Darling, My Giant, Puppy (to tease)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Mingyu’s nicknames for Luna:

Lu-Lu, Jiyeonie, Lovebug (when he’s being dramatic and need of attention)

iv. CONTACTS

Gyu-Gyu & Lu-Lu

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

they picked their nicknames because they’re the names that they originally made for each other that makes them feel warm the fastest.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Mingyu’s pic: mirror selfie he sent her making a kissy face and flashing a peace sign.

Luna’s pic: a mirror selfie she sent back doing the same, trying to mimic him.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

a couple times. but this current setup — the kissy selfies — has stuck because it’s cute, ridiculous, and feels perfectly them.

DK & LUNA ─── SeokNa

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

the princess and her court jester— chaotic sunshine besties with golden vocals and even more golden hearts.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

the first time Luna met Seokmin, she cackled. not giggled, not chuckled— cackled. it was during a vocal warm-up session and he made a random comment in his overly sincere voice, something like, “Your voice sounds like a sexy GPS that would still lead me off a cliff— but I’d thank it for the ride.” and Luna, already tired from the day, just lost it. everyone turned like, What the hell just happened? but Seokmin? he lit up. from that day on, it became his life mission to keep making her laugh like that.

meanwhile, for Seokmin, the second he heard Luna sing for the first time, he froze. he wasn’t even being dramatic— he genuinely looked around like, is this an OST? are we in a k-drama right now? when she laughed at his jokes later, he considered it divine validation.

these days, they’re a full-on comedic duo. Luna looks at him and knows he’s about to say something stupid. Dokyeom looks at her and prays she reacts in the most over-the-top way.

Dokyeom: “You know you’re my favorite audience, right?”

Luna: “And you’re my favorite unpaid clown.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

their closeness solidified the moment they were paired for a trainee vocal evaluation duet. they were both already recognized for their vocals, but the moment they sang together, the room was stunned. the harmonies? illegal. their chemistry? undeniable.

after that, they started doing more lessons together with Seungkwan because of their similar ranges. but the real bonding happened when Luna, post-practice, flopped down beside Dokyeom and asked, “So do you actually warm up, or do you just wing it with those high notes?” he laughed so loud he dropped his water bottle. “I warm up! What do you think I am, reckless?” Luna, nodding— “Yes.”

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

they’re the definition of sibling chaos. Dokyeom is the dramatic, loud younger brother type who clings to Luna, pokes her side to annoy her, and suddenly breaks into song at full volume during silent moments. Luna acts like she hates it, but she doesn’t. she never has. she throws pillows at him while hiding a smile, grumbles while letting him braid her hair, and always gives in when he says, “Just one more TikTok, please.” it’s loud. it’s chaotic. it’s healing.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

when it’s just Luna and Dokyeom, it’s like being backstage at a sitcom. she laughs until she wheezes, clutching her stomach while he proudly bows after every dumb joke. but beyond that, they have moments of unexpected peace— like long car rides where they sing along to ballads, harmonizing perfectly, or quiet snack breaks where Dokyeom randomly goes, “You have the most beautiful voice, you know?” and Luna just blinks, emotional, then throws a cookie at him to avoid crying.

Dokyeom: “You gonna cry?”

Luna (teary eyed): “No, shut up, eat your rice cake.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Dokyeom brings out Luna’s: inner goofball— he makes her feel like she can let loose, be dramatic, be silly, and not care about how it looks. around him, she doesn’t need to be polished or intimidating— she can just be Jiyeon, the girl who cackles and sings off-key for fun.

Luna brings out Dokyeom’s: vulnerability. she gives his chaotic sunshine a place to land. with her, he can be deep, honest, and vulnerable. she’s his safe space when his anxiety gets too loud. she’s one of the few people who can look at him and go, “You don’t have to make people laugh all the time. Just be you.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Dokyeom for Luna: DK is her comic relief, emotional support vocalist, and part-time therapist. he knows when she needs to laugh, when she needs to sing, and when she just needs someone to sit next to her in silence.

Luna for Dokyeom: Luna is his emotional anchor, the one who reminds him he’s more than his jokes. she’s one of the first people he goes to when he needs anything. he says she’s got ‘main character energy,’ but what he really means is— she inspires him.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

karaoke nights where they battle for the highest note like it’s a literal war. random duets that always end up on staff members’ phones because “This needs to be archived.” they also have a habit of buying matching snacks at every convenience store stop and doing dramatic CF reenactments in the aisles.

Dokyeom: “You’re the singer, not the actor, remember?”

Luna: “Shh, this is Oscar-worthy.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

they have a running bit where Luna pretends to be a snooty opera singer and Dokyeom acts as her overworked, underpaid vocal coach. Another classic: if someone compliments Dokyeom’s voice, Luna immediately goes, “Wow, and to think I taught him everything he knows.”

also, anytime either of them says ‘emotional ballad,’ the other starts fake-crying while dramatically mouthing a song into a water bottle mic.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

their pre-performance ritual: quick harmonizing warm-ups and a ridiculous handshake involving three claps, a spin, and a “Let’s ruin lives vocally.” they also have a habit of pulling faces at each other mid-stage when the camera isn’t on them.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

the trainee duet evaluation where their harmonies brought literal trainers to tears. Seungkwan cried in the back, claiming it was allergies.

the time Luna lost her voice and Dokyeomspent the whole week speaking for her, complete with a dramatic falsetto. “I am Jiyeon. I demand bubble tea and a nap.”

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nickname for Dokyeom:

Kyeomie, Dokyeomie, Seokminie, Minnie Mouse (because of the ‘minie’ in Seokminie), and occasionally ‘King Arthur’ when she’s being sarcastic.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Dokyeom’s nickname for Luna:

Jiyeonie, Ji-Ji, Royal Highness™ or Drama Queen Supreme (when she’s acting particularly bratty in rehearsals.)

iii. CONTACTS

chill guy kyeomie & drama queen supreme jiyeonie

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

it’s entirely bit-based. if one of them does something iconic or stupid, it becomes the contact name for a while. ‘Chill Guy Kyeomie’ came from Luna spamming him with chill guy edits. he cried laughing. ‘Drama Queen Supreme Jiyeonie’ came after a studio session where Luna was pouting about receiving the wrong coffee order with Jeonghan trying to placate her

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Dokyeom’s pic: a screenshot of Dokyeom’s in the chill guy headpiece from the TikTok he did, looking like he’s about to drop the worst mixtape of the year.

Luna’s pic: her in a giant Christmas tree headdress during a fan sign event.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

constantly. but these might stick longer because they’re ‘peak comedy,’ as Dokyeom insists. Luna agrees— plus, her contact photo of him makes her laugh every time she gets a text.

SEUNGKWAN & LUNA ─── KwanNa

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

If the group was a high school, they’d be the theater kids who sit in the front row of the cafeteria purely to watch drama unfold— and narrate it like it’s an Oscar-worthy film. They’re sass personified who Gossip Girl are based after

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

when Luna first met Seungkwan, she thought he was electric. his energy was loud, flamboyant, unapologetically himself— and she loved every second of it. “You’re like a human vitamin C shot,” she told him during their second vocal class together.

Seungkwan, on the other hand? terrified. “She walked in like the main character of a K-drama and I just knew I had to behave.” he confessed later that he thought Luna was going to be scary— too pretty, too composed, too cool. “She looked like she was judging everyone in the room,” he admitted, and Luna nearly choked laughing. “I was just hungry!”

as time passed, that fear melted quickly. they were assigned to harmonize together during at evaluation and Seungkwan saw the real Luna— funny, down-to-earth, a little unhinged once she warms up. “You’re literally a gremlin,” he told her after she cackled at his Mariah Carey high note impression. “A gorgeous gremlin, but still.” from that moment, they became each other’s human mic stands— always ready to back each other up with shade and harmony.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

their bond began in vocal class but was cemented in chaos. they spent hours doing warm-ups with Seokmin, and eventually made a habit of breaking into musical numbers while waiting for vocal coaches to arrive— one fateful day, while playing a chaotic round of indoor volleyball with Hoshi, Luna, and Seungkwan accidentally shattered a ceiling light. “That’s what we get for having main character energy indoors,” Luna said.

from then on, they were inseparable— singing, gossiping, and lightly traumatizing their vocal teachers with impromptu ad-libs and shameless runs. their volleyball rivalry is the stuff of legend— competitive, loud, and laced with brutal one-liners. “Try not to serve like you’re auditioning for a drama, Boo Seungkwan-ah.” “Try not to spike like you’re throwing a tantrum, noona.”

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

loud. ridiculously loud. the kind of loud that makes managers groan and other members sigh in secondhand embarrassment. they’re the sibling duo that was never related by blood but fully synced by brain cell— singular, because they share one.

Luna calls Seungkwan ‘my second child’ after Hoshi, and Seungkwan embraces the role with dramatic flair. “You mean I’m the favorite,” he says while dramatically fake-fainting into Luna’s arms while Jeonghan agrees absentmindedly.

they’re affectionate but snarky, constantly fake-bickering about who has better taste in music or who’s more booked and busy. It’s giving ‘passionate theatre kid fights in the group chat.’

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

chaotic peace. it’s still loud, but the type of loud that feels healing. you’ll find them whisper-yelling in corners, clutching iced Americanos and shooting each other side-eyes mid-conversation. If one of them hears a story, the other knows within 10 seconds. “Ya. Did you see?” “I SAW. Did you see who was tagged?!” whisper-whisper-gasp. rinse, repeat. their alone time is mostly filled with catching up on their ‘tea quota,’ impersonating the other members, harmonizing girl group songs, and screaming over whatever went viral on Twitter that morning.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Seungkwan brings out Luna’s: sassier side— the one she usually keeps under wraps to stay composed. with him, she’s wilder, louder, lets her inner theater gremlin out. he gives her permission to not always be ‘the cool one,’ and she leans into that freedom hard.

Luna brings out Seungkwan’s: sense of calm and emotional safety. she listens to his rants without judgment, encourages him to rest, and is often the one to hold his hand through breakdowns he doesn’t want others to see. “You’re the only person who lets me complain for 10 minutes and doesn’t tell me to stop being dramatic.” “It’s because I am dramatic, Boo.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Seungkwan for Luna: is the ultimate confidant. her phone call when she’s mad. her midnight FaceTime buddy when she needs to laugh. he’s the friend who lets her be messy, petty, chaotic, and still hands her tissues at the end.

Luna for Seungkwan: is the emotional rock with the mouth of a sailor. she grounds him when he spirals, but roasts him while doing it. “You’re fine. And if you’re not, at least look good while suffering.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

weekly ‘tea catch-up’ sessions— sometimes over iced coffee, sometimes at practice, sometimes under blankets on hotel beds. they also do volleyball matches (strictly 1v1), karaoke sessions where they impersonate trot singers, and impromptu live performances where they harmonize girl group songs with way too much emotion.

Seungkwan: “Let’s cover Antifragile but make it operatic.”

Luna: “Say less.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

Seungkwan calls Luna ‘My Rival’ every time she sings a high note he can’t match. Luna calls him ‘Baby Boo’ when he’s being dramatic. they have a running bit where they fake audition for k-dramas in front of mirrors.

they also send each other random side-eye selfies with no context. sometimes in the middle of performances they give each other side-eyes.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

texting each other tea while sitting next to each other. literally. even if they’re on the same couch. “CHECK THIS.” “I SAW IT ALREADY.” “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”

making each other laugh during performances by making funny faces at each other or changing their dance moves slightly.

They also always check on each other after long days. “Did you eat?” “No but I’m thriving on spite.” “Same.” “Eat with me.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

when they went viral for side-eyeing each other at the exact same time during an award show. “Our side-eye was synchronized like an Olympic dive,” a fan tweeted.

that legendary karaoke night where they sang Into the Unknown in full Elsa and Olaf cosplay— yes, wigs included. Luna’s was cracking up, Seungkwan fell off the stool, and they ended it with a bow like it was Broadway.

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nickname for Seungkwan:

Kwannie, Seungkwannie, Kwanzilla (when he’s being dramatic), and Baby Boo. (the more extra he acts, the fancier the nickname.)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Seungkwan’s nickname for Luna:

Jiyeonie Noona, Baby Bae, Her Royal Highness (when she’s being sassy), Queen of Side-Eye, and Mrs. Yoon (a recent one)

iv. CONTACTS

baby boo & noona bae

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

they used to just be ‘Jiyeonie Noona’ and ‘Kwannie’ with selfie photos. but one day, Luna screenshotted a perfect side-eye frame from Seungkwan’s Weverse live and sent it to him with the caption “new contact pic.” he retaliated by cropping Luna’s cringing face from an interview and boom— iconic contact names and photos were born.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Seungkwan’s pic: his legendary side-eye meme from a Weverse live, mid-eye-roll, eyes squinted, giving full judgment.

Luna’s pic: her viral cringing side-eye from that one chaotic interview where she was asked a questionable question. her expression screams, “I want to evaporate.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

only a few times. from normal to chaotic. and now, these meme profiles are locked in for life. “We peaked with these,” Luna said. “There’s no going back.”

VERNON & LUNA ─── SolNa

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

the ‘unbothered sibling duo’— where Vernon is calm incarnate and Luna is the effortlessly cool older sister who enables him like it’s a sport. they’re like if Tumblr soft grunge and a meme account became friends and spoke exclusively in sarcastic monotone.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

Luna spotted Vernon on day 1 and immediately went, “That child is a Disney prince in the wrong country.” she was 1000% convinced he was a child actor flown in for some campaign. “He could play baby Peter Pan or, like, young DiCaprio,” she once whispered to Jeonghan. Vernon, on the other hand, just blinked at her in soft confusion. “She was cool. A little scary. Kind of like a fashionable librarian who secretly knows your secrets” now? they’re those siblings who act like they’re not close in public but absolutely have a shared Dropbox folder of unhinged memes.

Luna: “You were literally adorable. What happened?”

Vernon: “I evolved.”

Luna: “NPC energy. Love that for you.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ how they got close:

it started with Korean lessons— Vernon, having lived in Korea longer than most people realized, would help Luna with the finer points of grammar while she bullied him with affection. he’d be quietly correcting her intonation while she was pinching his cheeks and calling him ‘Nonnie.’ their bond strengthened through Luna’s unchecked cuteness aggression and Vernon’s quiet tolerance of it. over time, he just… let her. even leaned into it. they found rhythm in late-night practice rooms and early vocal drills, with Luna sometimes bringing snacks and Vernon occasionally sharing obscure playlists.

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

imagine static noise but with swag. they are the human equivalent of lo-fi beats in AirPods during a fire drill. both are the calmest— if Hoshi is the chaos incarnate and Seungkwan is the dramatic middle child, Vernon is the too-quiet youngest they forget in the car sometimes. Luna enables his spacey behavior, sometimes joining in with a blank stare when he zones out. their shared silence is loud. their mutual confusion is telepathic.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

they talk like frat bros with unfinished liberal arts degrees. “Bro,” “Dude,” “Yo,” and “Deadass” pepper their conversations even when they’re literally discussing skincare routines. they can sit in the same room, headphones in, no eye contact, and still walk out knowing everything about each other’s day. they thrive in casual, mundane chaos. if a camera filmed them, the subtitles would just say “[Vibing in silence].” half the group’s memes are from overhearing the weird shit these two say to each other.

Vernon: “Bro, did you seen the new A24 trailer?”

Luna: “Yeah. I teared up. Didn’t even know what it was about.”

Vernon: “A vibe is a vibe.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Vernon brings out Luna’s: apathetic humor and laid-back side. around him, she doesn’t have to be the perfectionist, the older sister— she can just be. no makeup, hoodie on, glassy-eyed, laughing at some Reddit post. with him, she unplugs.

Luna brings out Vernon’s: social muscle memory— he’ll engage more, talk more, show more expression. she coaxes out that hidden playful side of him he saves for people who ‘get it.’ with Luna, he jokes more, lets himself be dramatic, lets his dry humor flourish. their dynamic is one of mutual soft-core trolling.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Vernon for Luna: is the soft reset button. the non-judgmental sounding board she goes to when she wants to scream but doesn’t want advice. he listens, offers a “that’s rough, dude” and somehow it’s perfect.

Luna for Vernon: is the older sister he never had— who doesn’t force hugs, but will threaten to fight anyone who disrespects him. she hypes him up in private, embarrasses him in public, and has no concept of personal space. and he lets her, because deep down, it’s grounding.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

late-night playlist swaps where they both try to out-hipster each other with SoundCloud finds.

watching obscure movies and rating them like they’re on Letterboxd, even though Vernon actually is on Letterboxd and Luna just bullshits reviews.

Luna: “This movie was like if depression had Wi-Fi.”

Vernon: “That’s actually so real.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

“NPC behavior” is what Luna calls it when Vernon does something suspiciously neutral. he leans into it now.

Luna once ranted to him and all Vernon replied to her was “honestly same” which strangely made her feel better and burst out laughing, so now they say “honestly same” here and there.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

they text each other memes, then proceed to not reply for three days.

Luna ‘borrows’ his hoodies constantly and he lets her because “you wear them more than I do.”

Luna: “Why do I have six of your hoodies?”

Vernon: “Idk. I assume you needed them spiritually.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

a behind-the-scenes clip where Luna is fixing Vernon’s hair mid-interview, completely deadpan, while he’s talking about something existential. the video went viral with the caption “siblings who don’t speak but know everything.”

their accidental twinning moment during a music show when they both showed up in oversized neutral outfits and the stylists told them they looked like a matched set from an H&M ad.

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nickname for Vernon:

Hansolie, Sol, Nonnie, Indie Kid, “Jack. Jack, come back.” (whenever she wants to tease him)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Vernon’s nickname for Luna:

Jiyeonie Noona, Luna Noona, My Dude

iv. CONTACTS

hansolie & jiyeonie noona

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

they just stuck with what they called each other. that’s just how they are together.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Vernon’s pic: a blue monogram ‘H’ poster from the phone’s default contact settings.

Luna’s pic: a pink ‘J’ monogram poster from the phone’s default contact settings. Luna could’ve forced a funny photo on him like she did with Woozi, but with Vernon, the nonchalantness was the bit. the lack of chaos was its own inside joke. Luna demanded color coordination at the very least. it’s the only contact in his phone with anything other than the default grey.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

they’ve changed phones. changed numbers. but the contact stayed the same.

DINO & LUNA ─── LuChan

i. OVERVIEW

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ dynamic in one sentence:

the ‘overinvested mom and her youngest son who can do no wrong’ — Luna spoils him senseless and Dino eats that up like it’s a five-star buffet. she mothers him without shame, he lets her without guilt. JeongNa’s eternally babied maknae.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ first impression vs. now:

the first time Luna saw Chan, he was all eyes and smile. he wasn’t even the youngest trainee, but to her? he felt like the youngest— something in the way he bounced into the room like a puppy in socks made her immediately want to adopt him. meanwhile, Chan was in awe. there was something about Luna that felt larger-than-life, like she belonged on the biggest stage already. and he latched on from the jump— an eager sponge, watching her every move and mimicking her dance style in the mirrors when she wasn’t looking. she caught him once and never let it go.

now? Luna still sees him as her baby. Dino doesn’t argue. if anything, he weaponizes it. she’ll pinch his cheeks and go, “My baby dinosaur’s so cute!” and he’ll shoot finger guns and wink: “Only for you, Noona.” barf.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ now they got close:

dance was the bridge. while their styles were wildly different— Dino sharp, precise, hungry; Luna fluid, confident, storytelling-heavy— they admired each other’s craft deeply. they’d stay after training hours just watching each other dance and throwing critiques like “You hit that too hard,” or “You can melt more here.” eventually, these post-practice sessions turned into deep talks about dance inspirations, childhoods, dreams, and why they started. From there, it was over. Dino had his idol and his mentor. Luna had her favorite child.

ii. DYNAMIC

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ energy together:

the definition of a loud mother and her son who uses it to his advantage. Dino is the fourth and youngest child of JeongNa, and it shows. while Luna is loud, dramatic, and endlessly affectionate, Dino matches it with a mischievous calm. he’s goofy around her, playful, constantly poking at her dramatic outbursts just to see how big she’ll go.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ the vibe when it’s just them:

it’s babying central. she’ll cook for him, fluff his hair, call him beautiful 15 times in a row, and Dino will just grin, cheeks stuffed, letting it happen. he thrives in the spotlight of her attention. they hype each other up so loudly their members have walked in and walked right out multiple times. they speak in compliments and giggles. she gets his inner child. he gets her inner nurturer.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ what each brings out in the other:

Dino brings out Luna’s: hyper-maternal instincts in ways no one else can. she’s always mothering people, but with Dino, it’s full send. she’ll rearrange her schedule just to make sure she’s at his solo stage recording. she’s cried at his dance practices like an actual proud mom.

Luna brings out Dino’s: softest sides— the childlike joy he sometimes hides under his professional persona. with her, he doesn’t have to be the ‘future of K-pop.’ He can just be Channie. the baby. the goof. the kid who dances because it makes him feel alive.

“You always make me feel like I can do anything,” he once told her. “That’s ‘cause you can, baby.” Luna replied.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ roles they play in each other’s lives:

Dino for Luna: he’s her emotional support dance child. watching him succeed feels like proof that she did something right. he’s also her eternal mood booster— his texts alone can flip her out of a spiral.

Luna for Dino: She’s part mother, part older sister, part hypewoman, part bestie, part therapist— an all-in-one emotional protein shake. he goes to her when he’s stuck, when he’s down, or when he’s proud and needs to show off. she’s his emotional safety net.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ go-to activities / traditions:

dance battles where they intentionally copy each other’s styles.

cooking together (badly). they once tried making japchae and nearly set the stovetop on fire.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ inside jokes / recurring bits:

Luna calls Dino’s solo dance parts “his power ranger transformation moment” every single time.

Dino once sent Luna a video of a literal baby tripping and said, “Me whenever you’re not around, just so you know.” She cried laughing and made it his birthday card.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ routines / habits:

Luna always messages Dino “good luck” before any solo activity. Dino always replies “For Noona!” like he’s running into battle.

Dino drags Luna to check his choreo drafts. She pretends she’s going to critique harshly, but always ends up gasping and saying, “You’re a genius.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ their most iconic shared moments:

that one viral moment during a behind-the-scenes footage where Luna screamed “THAT’S MY BABY!!!” during Dino’s rehearsal and made him turn bright red.

the time Luna threatened to fight a sasaeng on Weverse for stalking Dino. “You mess with him, I mess with your future. Say hi to your principal for me.”

iii. NICKNAMES

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Luna’s nickname for Dino:

Channie, Baby Dinosaur, My Baby

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Dino’s nickname for Luna:

Jiyeonie Noona, Eomma Luna, My #1 fan, Mommy Dinosaur

iv. CONTACTS

my baby dinosaur & my jiyeonie noona

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact names:

very self explanatory. he’s her baby, he’s Dino and she is his only Noona.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ stories behind the contact pictures:

Dino’s pic: a literal baby photo of Dino with his cheeks puffed out. she refuses to change it.

Luna’s pic: a baby pic of her with her short bob and bangs and a shy smile on her face.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ have they changed their contacts over time?:

not in years. the nicknames and baby pics have remained consistent across multiple phones, even after backups. neither of them have the heart to change it. “Why mess with perfection?” Luna says. Dino just grins and replies, “Exactly.”

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[daycourtofficial]

Ferocious beasts with soft bellies

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 2.5k | warnings: mentions of pregnancy, some violence from dogs

Summary: Eris’s hounds know you’re pregnant before either of you do, driving the two of you wild with their newfound devotion to you.

Author’s note: hi everyone!!! Thanks for joining me this week, I hope you had a great time!! This one ends on a note I didn’t expect it to, but I do have plans to write follow-ups I kinda wanted to break this up into two. Also this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read as a standalone okay love ya bye 😘

Eris’s hounds were incredibly well-trained. He spent thousands of hours when they were pups instilling in them commands, tracking and hunting skills, and alerting him to intruders on the property.

At least, they used to be well-trained.

These days Clover, the leader of the pack, would not allow you out of her sight. All twelve hounds wandered through your house as they pleased, often keeping you company in Eris’s absence. They would lounge about, finding warm sunny spots throughout the house to take afternoon naps in. You’d usually have one or two lazily trail you around the house, staying in the beds you had placed in several of the rooms.

Lately their attachment and sudden devotion to you was getting out of hand. Clover was practically sewn into your side the way she followed you around - she hardly let you out of her sight, keeping an eye on you at all times, following you as you moved through the house. She was even beginning to ignore Eris’s commands, opting to stay at your feet, following you around the house, or with her head curled on your lap.

When you and Eris publicly began your mateship, you had begged him to allow the dogs into your shared bed. “Just one,” you had pouted, “I don’t like waking alone.”

Despite his grumbling, Eris had obliged your request. Things with your family were still quite rough - it had been almost a year by now since you left the Night Court, being unceremoniously abdicated from the throne. You had been in contact with most of your family by this point except for Rhysand, who was still refusing to speak with you since he forced you out of ‘his court’, as he had called it.

Despite your best efforts, Eris still felt guilty over it, the rift in your family caused by the discovery of your mateship. You usually tried to soothe him, not wanting him to feel guilt over the decisions you made. You would choose him over and over again, and problems with Rhysand or any member of your family were not going to stop that from continuing. Besides, his guilt would be better suited as ire towards Rhysand.

Sometimes you did use his guilt to get what you want.

Which is why it initially did take Clover much coaxing to jump into the bed at all, a notion she thought ridiculous at first, but once her paws melted into the mattress, she was quick to lay directly on your side of the bed, placing her head atop your pillow.

“Traitor,” Eris had muttered as you cuddled up to her, petting her soft head.

After getting her into the bed, Clover spent most nights curled up at your feet or by your side, your nights often spent squished between her long body and Eris’s. Soon enough, you were back to asking Eris for another one to sleep in your bed.

“So Clover doesn’t get lonely.”

He spent ages debating with you that no, she doesn’t need a companion in bed with her. It was ridiculous. The three of you were enough for one bed, and he hated to think of how a second hound would complicate things.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he did quite enjoy it when he’d throw an arm around you in the middle of the night and his fingers would meet Clover’s soft fur from the other side of you.

It also soothed some minor worry in him to have you protected from all sides, despite your being more than capable of defending yourself. The mating bond was a precious gift, but it was also a minor curse with the way it coursed through his veins, needing to protect you, to keep you safe, and to keep you both satiated.

“Er, our bed’s plenty big enough for more hounds.”

“Yes, but they’ll get too spoiled. You’ve already turned Clover rotten.”

“I have done no such thing,” you cross your arms, trying to look utterly appalled at his accusation. He gives you a pointed look, then turns his gaze behind you.

Your gaze turned to the hound seated behind you, her long limbs spread across your bed, her little leg kicks and soft snores bringing a small chuckle to your lips that you quickly turned into a scoff.

“That proves nothing.”

In the several months since allowing Clover and Cinnamon in your bed, they were still obedient. They left the bed without disturbing you in the mornings, they rotated who laid next to you and who slept at the foot of the bed, and they would never go to bed without either you or Eris prompting them to.

That all stopped a few weeks ago.

Eris’s hounds had always been fond of you - Eris had spoken of them for centuries before you were able to see any of them. The way he had spoken of them had helped you see he was capable of caring about something that wasn’t himself.

That was its own revelation.

Meeting the hounds was quite nerve-wracking for you - he told you they were quite cold to new fae, and they had detested Lucien’s overeagerness to befriend them - a grudge they still held many centuries later.

“I believe they smelled the desperation leaking from his pores, tainted their perception of him,” he quipped.

Despite Eris’ warnings, you were not prepared for them to warm up to you as much as they had. He brought out his most trusted hound, Clover, to meet you, and you’re not sure if it was the way Eris’ scent was forever entwined with your own, but she warmed to you immediately. She circled your legs before sitting directly next to you, placing her head beneath your hand.

“What does this mean?” you whisper to Eris, not wanting to scare her or set her off.

“She wants you to pet her.”

Your confused expression makes his eyes dance with amusement.

“Surely you understand that means to stroke her head.” He raises his hand in demonstration, petting the air with a bemused look on his face.

You huff, “she could bite me, I apologize for wanting to wait a moment before touching a creature you’ve told me is dangerous.”

“She is dangerous, but surely she’s capable of being more than one thing.”

Nowadays she was capable of such a feat - she was not only beloved by you, but she was also a constant thorn in your side.

It started with subtle things, conversations with Eris where you tried to express how odd they were behaving one night while you sat in Eris’ study, helping him sort through correspondence from his brothers about the lands they oversee.

“Clover followed me into the bathroom.”

“Perhaps I should put some cushions for her to lay down while you bathe. I’m fond of the sight, perhaps she is too.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Er. She’s behaving strangely.”

Eris set the letter from Moros down, his attention fixed on you. “You spoil her, she is merely being affectionate. You’ll get used to it.”

Eris was wrong, Clover’s behavior only getting worse as the days went on.

“Clover, stay.”

Clover’s brown eyes observed you, your finger pointing toward the floor indicating for her to stay, tone full of finality - a princess’s tone, a high lady’s tone. You were determined to get the hound to listen to you, commanding her to stay in your chambers.

You passed through the door, heading down to speak with one of your advisor’s who insisted he speak with you as soon as possible. You rolled your eyes just thinking about his current issue with one of the trade routes that flows into Spring and how last time he wanted to speak to you, you enjoyed watching the vein on his forehead throb at your reluctance to take his ill advice.

Perhaps during this meeting the vein will pop, at least then the meeting would come with entertainment.

You look down and are startled when you see Clover’s body in step with yours, her fur shimmering in the light as if she were smoke rising from the ground.

Cauldron boil me, Eris is going to kill me if I’ve ruined all of their training.

You stop, pointing in the opposite direction, whispering, “go, shoo Clover.” You don’t even want to consider how she got through the closed door.

Clover just sits in front of you, her gaze piercing, seeing something you can’t. You blow out a breath, hands running through your hair, “okay, you may come with me.”

You’d regret those words.

Clover strode into the room before you, sniffing the air as her nails clacked across the floor. Her focus shifted to the male in the room, Flint’s eyes narrowing at her. She moved her body closer to the floor as she stalked towards him, the hair along her spine raising into the shape of a fin. Her ears were pulled back, a low rumble emitting from her chest.

“Clover!”

Your voice is chastising, but Clover does not let her guard down as she slowly approaches Flint. His eyes are full of fear as she approaches, her feet circling him. He spins in a circle, not letting her eyes leave his.

“Clover!”

You whistle her stop command, but she ignores it. She circled Flint the way she circles mice and rabbits.

She always loved playing with her food.

“What is this? Control your hound.” Flint’s voice is annoyed as Clover raises her head, baring her teeth at him.

“I’m trying.”

You move forward, reaching to grab Clover’s neck, instead missing and falling forward towards Flint. His arms catch your forearms, but Clover was not a fan of his touch and her teeth swiftly sank into the leg of his trousers. Her grip was strong as she tugged at his pants, and he began stammering, shaking his leg trying to rid his pants of her. He backed away toward the door, and once he reached the threshold, Clover let go of her grip, almost causing the male to fall over.

Her growls echoed down the hall as she watched him run down the hall before scampering back towards you, confusion and shock on your face at all that just transpired.

The hound just licked your face gently before laying next to you, her head in your lap.

You sighed, certain that Eris would kill you for ruining Clover.

Later that night, Eris made hisbway to your shared chambers, a bit surprised to find you already asleep. The hour wasn’t too late, however he had caught you dozing while reading over some requests regarding equipment for some farms.

He stripped his clothes, the finery being replaced by some loose trousers before moving towards the bed to find that the hounds had placed themselves on either side of you, Cinnamon occupying his spot on the bed.

“Cinnamon, down.”

The brown hound does not listen to the command, the only response a long sigh of her breath. He stared at the hound - a seventy year old beast who was one of the easiest hounds he’d ever trained, knowing how he expected her to behave from an incredibly young age.

Cinnamon was no Clover, but she was second in their chain of command. Clover was on your other side, soft snores coming from her snout.

There was plenty of room in the bed for the two of you, the two hounds, and, truthfully, several more hounds. Your preference for larger beds from when you had your wings never left after you lost them.

Eris laid in the bed, determined he could outmaneuver his hounds. He moved a hand out to your face, stroking your hair before a soft growl cut him off.

His hand stilled, eyes wide at such a response from Cinnamon. His nostrils begin flaring, heat rising to the surface of his skin in anger. He could feel the roar of the bond in his ears, frustration boiling within him at the defiance and aggression at him touching his own mate.

He tried to swallow it down, refusing to erupt in his own bed while you slept peacefully next to him. His fuse was a short one, his temper always loosely held back by a quick tongue that allowed him to loosen the reins ever so slightly.

He watched them, their bodies curled around your own and thought about your complaints of them following you around, believing it to be a consequence of your softness towards them.

You were spoiling them rotten. You were a few weeks away from giving them table scraps, for Mother’s sake. But then his thoughts veered into Flint’s description of what occurred, Clover guarding you from Flint’s touch like a mother hen-

His heart stalls in his chest, a heavy realization settling over him as he sits up, Sierra growling softly at his abrupt movements.

You were pregnant. You had to be - it was the only logical conclusion other than all twelve of his hounds losing their minds simultaneously. They must be able to scent it on you before fae senses could pick them up.

He wonders briefly if Lucien’s magical eye could see it.

Eris lay frozen on the bed, his thoughts swirling with what to do, how he was going to handle this. He was still quite new to his tenure as high lord - the work wasn’t unexpected by any means, however his position was still quite vulnerable - new power always attracted violence attempting to see how far that power extended.

Things were still difficult in your personal lives - he and Lucien were on tenuous speaking terms, you and Rhysand were not on speaking terms. The two of you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

It was all so damn complicated - you hadn’t had a coronation as high lady yet, wanting to wait until Rhysand would show up to have the ceremony. The logistics of a babe at such a crucial turning point politically could open Eris up to glaring vulnerabilities.

Long fingers tap at his chest, trying to keep himself somewhat grounded in reality. He had no confirmation for this - his reasoning behind such a theory were founded on the strange behavior of his hounds. He was being a ridiculous fool to get so worked up over unconfirmed theories.

Yet the image of a swaddled little thing kept gnawing at his mind - tiny toes, a tiny nose, tiny fingers wrapping around his. He had adored his brothers when they were much younger, when the world under Beron could be disguised as a good place. Perhaps he could do it.

Eris laid awake for several hours, your soft breathing calming him as he sat and thought about all the possible ways he could ruin all of this.

A tiny part of him let himself hope that, in spite of it all, he wouldn’t.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Eris taglist: @secret-third-thing

Thanks for reading 💕

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Don't Mess With The Doctor's Wife 💘 | Carlisle Cullen Snippet

Twilight Masterlist Part 1

Characters & Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x female!vampire!reader (romantic), Bella Swan x Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen x reader (platonic)

Content warnings: fluff, light angst, suggestive themes right at the end | female reader (she/her) | wc: 1.4k

Premise: Just some good ole fluff of a married vampire couple of a few dumbass teen immortals.

Note: So many people loved 'The Doctor's Wife' and asked if I could continue it! not sure if I'll make it long imagines but I definitely plan on making small snippets like this that is good ole fluff of the golden couple of the Cullens dealing with their chaotic teenage immortal children. Enjoy and thank you so much for the positive reception on my work!

--------------

“Honey….,” Carlisle leaned against the door of their bedroom, treading carefully on water he knew better than to cross. But their whole family dynamic was at stake and as the patriarch--and coven leader--he needed to fix it. 

Without any bloodshed.

Her glare, however, spoke against his hopes for peace. “Don’t honey me, Carlisle Cullen.” Clothes flung everywhere, the room in utter disarray contrary to its usually unkempt nature. “He is being ridiculous and you know it.” Tossing a pair of Manolo Blahnik pumps into the suitcase she gave him another look, “And yes, I know he can hear me.” Carlisle had opened his mouth, but closed it, his wife not having to the mind reader in the family to know what he was about to say. 

“You have every right to be upset. I’m not happy about the situation either, but we have to do what’s best for our family.”

Carlisle came over to where she was, beginning to pack his clothes into his own suitcase. Brushing away the stray hairs that fell from her hair scarf, Y/n’s eyes turned serious, “What happened was unfortunate--and it is a shame Bella got hurt. He’s been beating himself over it the entire weekend and I understand that, Carlisle. But what I don’t appreciate is him uprooting us and using you as the excuse.”

Following Bella’s birthday party gone wrong, Edward didn’t waste a second in making the executive decision to the family that they had to leave Forks. Saying they were a danger to Bella and to ensure her safety and no more harm comes to her as a result of his doing, they needed to remove themselves from the picture. And Edward’s genius move was to tell Bella it was because the staff at the hospital were starting to notice Carlisle’s lack of aging. 

“His concern is valid. We’ve been here four years now. It was bound to happen.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve heard people talk at the hospital?” She challenged.

“I don’t need to hear them say it aloud, Y/n,” he tells her with a knowing look. “Their stares are enough confirmation. I had one nurse ask me last week if I had a skincare routine.” His attempt at a joke doesn't work. She doesn’t so much as crack a smile, but he tries again. “Soon they’ll be asking what botox doctor I go to.”

Y/n knew Carlisle had a point. It always happened wherever they moved. They settled down, spent maybe five or six years until all the kids graduated from high school for the hundredth time, then did it all over again. If it wasn’t nosy hospital workers, it was teachers. If it wasn’t the bakery owner she frequented asking how she managed to look 27 after seven years, then it was the engineer she was collaborating with on a project. 

“It’s not fair,” she goes on, carefully folding her dress shirts, skirts, and pants. Not looking forward to having to pack up her art studio. All the supplies, artwork, and projects she was working on. “And I feel so awful for her,” her frown made his own appear, “You see the way she looks at him. It’s utter devotion, as though he was a sentient being sent from the heavens. And Edward,” her voice drops to a whisper, “he worships the ground she walks on. And this decision not only punishes her, it punishes him.”

The pair fall into a silence when the front door opens and slams shut. Edward’s lingering scent disapparating, causing Y/n to groan and place her head in her hands. The anger and not caring if her adoptive son heard her rant suddenly vanished. Replaced with shame. 

Carlisle sighs, setting down the pile of towels he folded to walk over to her. Gently grabbing her shoulders, he brings Y/n into a comforting embrace, letting his hands fall to her waist, allowing her to sink into his arms with a content hum. 

“Listen to me,” she closes her eyes, not wanting to meet his gaze where she’ll find judgement. “I sound ridiculous--and I’m being unfair to him and his feelings on the matter.”

“You care for him dearly,” Carlisle strokes her hair, “he understands that. And I think deep down he knows you’re right, but won’t admit to it because he believes he’s doing the right thing for Bella.” Carlisle leans back to look into her eyes, “Remember, he was turned at a young age--and has never experienced this type of love before. He’s learning all this for the first time.”

“I know,” she mumbles, deflated but understanding. They stayed in their embrace for a few minutes before separating to continue packing up. Edward returned later that night with brighter eyes, indicating he had fed to which resolved some of the tension between the two when they finally sat down to have the conversion they’d been dreading. Him apologizing for uprooting the family suddenly, and for the harm he was to cause Bella. And Y/n apologizing for the words she spoke before he left. They hugged it out, neither able to stay mad at the other, and Edward helped her pack the art room throughout the remainder of the night. 

The time away from Forks was odd but somewhat comforting. Carlisle and Y/n decided to spend their time on the island they owned just off the coast of Brazil. Rosalie and Emmett traveled to New York, Alice and Jasper in Mississippi and Edward in Rio de Janeiro. They spoke on the phone frequently, sent letters and postcards, or emailed. Edward would spend a night or two on the island to hunt, Y/n painted canvas after canvas, and Carlisle worked on a medical textbook he was in the process of writing.

“You hear that?” She asked one night when they were cuddling on the couch. A random movie playing on the TV.

“What?”

“It’s quiet,” she whispered, a grin spreading on her lips. “No kids. No animals. No workers. Absolute silence.” Carlisle mirrored her smile. 

“You’re right. We haven’t had complete silence in ages.”

“More like eighty years--give or take,” she snorted. 

When the shit hit the fan in Italy, Y/n nearly killed Edward herself. Not just for the danger he put himself in but for the whole family. Alice and Rosalie also met her wrath--Rosalie for not explaining clearly to Edward the vision, and Alice for dragging Bella to Italy. 

Yeah, none of them wanted the smoke. 

The sight of the three siblings sitting on the couch with their heads down and twiddling their thumbs while Y/n paced in front of them while shouting a motherly tangent had Emmett straining to hold back his laughter. Carlisle didn’t dare intervene. 

Back in Forks the family settled back into their routines. Carlisle in the hospital and Y/n working on projects. The kids in school and planning for the summer. 

Then shit hit the fan again.

This time in the form of a newborn vampire army created by the red-headed lover of the tracker they disposed of the year prior. Victoria. And she was out for revenge against Edward and Bella. 

Y/n was not the fighting type, but that didn’t mean she did not know how to throw down. She could get her hands dirty if she desired. Emmett and Jasper taught her the ropes, Edward taught her how to anticipate opponents moves. 

“C’mon old man!” she dodged Carlisle’s attack, giggling as she pivoted to kick lightly at his chest. “Don’t be getting sleepy on me now. That’s not like you.” Carlisle smirked, catching her off guard by grabbing her waist and flipping her onto the ground.

“I’d watch who you call old, sweetheart,” he mocked right as Jasper yelled, “Never turn your back on your enemy!” 

Let’s just say…they did more than spar that night once the sun went down. 

[millieisawriter]

Love spell... or not

javier escuella x reader

summary: javier feels drawn to the newest member of the gang - a fortune teller of mysterious background. he views your tarot cards as sinful, yet can't help his growing attraction. one drunken night solves one problem, and causes another.

part 2 javier's version

part 2 charles' version

wc: 3.8k

tw: religious guilt, mentions of sin, sex under the influence of alcohol, unprotected p in v sex, mentions of religion during sex

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡

You were a young girl, traveling with two sturdy horses to pull your wagon, telling fortunes from one town to another. It was a decent life, though far from honest. When the townsfolk eventually discovered you were also a sly con artist, it was your cue to pack up and move on.

It was a good business − very good, in fact. You’d warn a man that his horse might be stolen, and later, when it inevitably went missing, he’d applaud your foresight, blissfully unaware you were the one who took it. Then you’d offer to divine its location for a fee and reunite him with his stolen steed.

Were your skills just a fraud? Of course not, you had great knowledge of techniques for seeing the future, for reading people’s fate. But knowing how to manipulate fate, well, that was just good business.

One night, when you met the first man you didn’t manage to con, you also found a new way to survive.

“Good evening, mister,” you greeted your target, “are you interested in hearing what the spirits have to say to you?”

All Dutch wanted to do was go outside to take a piss, and then come back right to his table, where the rest of the gang waited. They had just arrived in this territory, and what could’ve been better of a reconnaissance than a night out at the saloon? He didn’t expect to meet you at the back of the building, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

“I’ll pass, miss,” he replied, “goodluck trying to find someone who believes in that sort of thing.”

But you were determined to obtain his pocket watch, that you’ve noticed some time ago, having observed the group. “It works best on people who don’t. Aren’t you even a little bit curious, mister?”

Dutch considered the offer. He was a gambler at heart, after all, and he couldn’t resist a game he didn’t understand. “Alright then, miss. Let’s hear what the spirits have to say.”

You invited him upstairs, to the room you had previously paid for. It was small, lit only by a dim oil lamp, with the perfect ambiance for a tarot reading. You gestured for the man to sit at the rickety table, while you took the chair across from him.

“First of all, I’ll need a personal item of yours.” You explained convincingly, as if the rule was real. “Something close to you, something the spirits can… connect with.”

Dutch smirked, shaking his head as he reached into his coat. He pulled out the watch, exactly what you wanted, passing it to you. “Fine, but if something happens to this watch, you’ll regret it.”

You laughed softly, brushing off his subtle warning. “No need to worry. You and your watch are in good hands, mister.”

He raised an eyebrow as you tucked the watch into the top of your corset. “What are you going to do with it?”

“It has to be close to the heart.” You explained, as if the rule was sacred. “I absorb the energy of it and ask the spirits for guidance.” Your movements were graceful, but not rehearsed, you pulled your deck of tarot cards from your satchel.

It seemed like a strange practice to the man, he was no stranger to deception, he’d spent his life perfecting it, but your conviction was… well, working on him. He wasn’t even sure anymore if you were pulling a con or genuinely communicating with the supernatural.

Meanwhile, the rest of the gang remained by the table. Dutch had been gone longer than expected, which was unlike him. Especially since they didn’t even hear any gunshots, which meant their leader wasn’t starting any trouble. Odd.

“What’s takin’ him so long?” Arthur was the first to ask.

“If he’s not back in five minutes, we’re checking on him.” Javier stated, draining his drink and setting the glass down with a thunk.

Oh, how big their surprise was when Dutch had returned, but wasn’t alone. Right next to him were you. He let you finish your reading, and eventually confronted you. However, instead of punishing you for trying to trick the Dutch van der Linde, he offered you a place in the gang.

“Gentlemen,” Dutch announced, spreading his arms theatrically, “allow me to introduce a new… friend of ours. She’s got a knack for seeing opportunities where others don’t. I think she’ll be… valuable.”

You saw this as both a chance and a challenge. And you liked the idea.

Of course, Dutch wasn’t going to explain the whole situation at the saloon, where everyone could hear. On the next day, back at the camp, that was where he explained the circumstances he ran into you.

Javier had been different to you from the beginning. Everyone else was either interested in your fortune-telling skills, like Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen, or simply didn’t believe it but still respected it (or didn’t care) like Arthur or Sadie. While Javier… he wasn’t the slightest bit friendly to you.

You were mysterious, and strange. It wasn’t that you were a con, that was okay by him, everyone in the gang was a criminal. However your cards, omens, spirit-talking was what clashed with his faith. To him, you were worse than reverend Swanson, because he at least believed in God. You, on the other hand, it seemed you not only rejected God, but even spoke with the Devil.

“Sin.” Javier muttered one night as he sat by the campfire alone.

You weren’t trying to bother anyone, your target for the night was to go sleep in your wagon that was stationed next to the girls’ wagon.

“You always talk to yourself, or am I just lucky to catch you at it again?” You retorted. His fear, or whatever it was he felt, was amusing to you. It wasn’t the first time you heard Javier muttering about you, and this time you were going to confront him.

“Just speaking my mind.”

“Don’t let me interrupt your devout sermon then.” You gave a short chuckle, crossing your arms on your chest.

“You think it’s funny?” He leaned back, his back against the log. “You have no respect for anything sacred. The Devil sent you.”

You tilted your head, your smirk widening. “Are you afraid of me, Javier?”

“It’s not fear, bruja,” he stood up, “it’s disgust. You’ll go to Hell, don’t you care about that?”

You laughed softly, the sound infuriatingly calm in contrast to Javier’s rising fury. “If I do, I’ll meet you there. You seem awfully concerned about my soul for a man on the run for murder.”

“Stay away from me.” He barked, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitch. “Others may trust you, but I know you’ll doom us all with your brujería.”

You watched him retreat to his tent for the night, not arguing further. There was no point. You had no problem discussing faith with people who could keep a polite conversation, maybe even understand your point of view. But Javier spoke a lot of respect for the sacred, while his hands were stained with blood.

Not everyone in the gang was like him, though. Arthur didn’t believe in God, but at the same time he didn’t completely reject the idea of some higher power looming over this cursed world. So, he didn’t mind it when you offered him a reading the other day. For him it was just something fun, like playing dominoes or poker to pass the time.

“The Lovers.” You put the last card on the table.

Arthur eyes the card, unconvinced. “Now that’s reaching. There ain’t no—”

You interrupted him. “It doesn’t have to be about love. This card can also represent loyalty, who you stand by when the time to make a choice comes, and it will come. Sooner than you might think.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair, a low chuckle coming from his mouth. “I can take a look around any nearby town and tell you the same. New century, where there ain’t no place for people like this gang. I don’t need the cards to know that.” It was just common sense for him.

“And yet you stay,” you pointed at the previous card, the Hanging Man, “because you don’t know which way to go. You’re stuck, maybe not even because of your own choices, but because of other people’s decisions. You’re caught in the web of loyalty and circumstance, and it’s hard to see a way out.”

“Only if you were that good at reading Javier, huh?” Arthur teased, redirecting the course of the conversation after you’d hit a sensitive spot. “Don’t think nobody sees how you look at him when you’re not at each other’s throats.”

“It’s called intuition, and I am well aware of what Javier feels.” You weren’t going to deny it. “A part of him is afraid, but I can feel his energy pulling at me. Let me tell you, he’s far from disgusted, what he claims to be.”

Before Arthur could reply to this, a shadow loomed over the table. You collected your cards as your eyes traveled upwards to be met with Javier’s gaze.

The Mexican asked. “You done filling Arthur’s head with your nonsense?”

“I didn’t force him to sit here with me.” You remained calm. “It was an offer, which he accepted.”

“Are you sure you haven’t put a spell on him?” Javier’s tone was sarcastic. “You think it’s all fun and games until you end up cursing someone.”

Arthur stood up with an amused smile. “Don’t worry, Javier, if there’s Hell, I’m already going there.” He said, patting him on the back and walking away.

Javier’s eyes followed Arthur. “Doesn’t change the fact I don’t trust her!”

You knocked on the back of the deck, and shuffled the card. As you did that, your gaze stayed on Javier, knowing he was waiting for your retort. A few seconds later you pulled out the Seven of Swords, flourishing to Javier. “You don’t trust yourself, question your own intentions. When will you stop sabotaging what your heart wants?”

Javier’s expression shifted slightly. It wasn’t anger this time. It was doubt, but he masked it quickly, his gaze darkening once more. “You don’t know me, bruja.”

A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Your heart already tells me everything I need to know.”

He walked away quickly, his boots kicking up dust as he stormed off. You knew what he really felt, and he knew that too even if he hated it. And you knew, one day his feelings would come to the surface. Sooner than he expected.

It happened on the night of your first robbery with the gang. You, Karen, Sean, and Lenny had successfully robbed a stagecoach that was passing nearby. It carried money, a delivery to the nearby bank. You figured it would be easier to attack the stagecoach, than the bank.

Before the law arrived at the scene, the four of you were already back at the camp. The whole gang was in high spirits, Dutch even played music from his gramophone. It was the first time you had seen the gang so free. Bottles of whiskey and moonshine were passed around, and for the first time since joining the gang you truly felt like this is the place you belong in.

Tired from the dancing, you sat down on the log near the campfire and for a moment all you did was sit and watch the others. There was a nearly empty bottle in your hand, and the biggest smile on your face.

Karen was dancing with Sean, who was far too tipsy to keep up with her steps but tried anyway. Molly was being twirled around by Dutch, Arthur agreed to accompany Tilly for one song, and with the corner of your eye you could see Mary-Beth trying to encourage Kieran to dance with her. Even miss Grimshaw allowed herself to relax and swayed to the music with Uncle.

Then there was Javier. Standing a few feet away from the dancing bunch, leaning on Pearson’s wagon with a bottle of moonshine in hand. He happened to shift his gaze to meet yours, as if he sensed you were looking.

“You’re staring, bruja.” Javier called out to you, his voice lacking its usual bite, but still sarcastic. And, for some reason, the man walked over to you.

You finished your bottle before speaking, “Maybe I like what I see.”

He sat down right next to you, and you could swear the magnetic attraction you’d always felt was now impossible to ignore. Maybe alcohol was all the two of you needed. Maybe it was all Javier needed to finally be honest with his feelings.

He asked. “You know, it’s not that I hate you, right?” As if he didn’t think you must have been already aware.

“I know.” You hummed.

“What is it, then?”

You couldn’t give him an answer. His feelings were far away from hatred or disgust or anything of that kind, but you couldn’t be the one to teach him what he felt. It wasn’t your place to make him say things he hid from himself.

“I know it’s not fear,” he added, “I’m not scared of you.”

“Aren’t you scared I’ll curse you?” You chuckled. “You seemed pretty concerned about that.”

“Oh, please,” he snorted, his gaze briefly shifting to the ground as his mind recalled it, “I think you’ve already done that. Long ago, the first time I saw you.”

“Is that so?”

Javier nodded with a barely noticeable smile. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You just… appeared one day in our lives. Different from what we’ve known, but you didn’t even try to fit in. You simply… do. Maybe that’s a little disturbing.”

You laughed. “Ah, I thought the moonshine’s gonna make you take a liking to me.”

“I meant it in a good way,” he sat up straight, “you make me think. It worries me, because no woman did that before.”

The sounds of the gramophone, and the cheerful laughter of the others was so distant out of a sudden. Javier’s confession wasn’t anything you hadn’t at least suspected, but it made your confidence falter.

“And what do you think?” You inquired, subconsciously leaning in closer.

“I think…” Javier hesitated. When his gaze met yours, just inches away, you could really see the true conflict in his eyes. “I think I don’t know what to do about it.”

It was the first time you’d been that close. His eyes told you he was looking for a reason to pull away, even walk away from the fire, and pretend you still hate each other the next morning. But none of that happened.

Instead, your lips connected. You weren’t even sure who initiated it, both of you were equally eager. Except it wasn’t like two lovers finally admitting their feelings, no, it was as if your bickering continued without words. It was the culmination of every sharp word you said to each other, every insult thrown.

The few following seconds were a blur when Javier led you to his tent. Thankfully, no one else noticed that, and you had at least the illusion of privacy. Any words were unnecessary as you undressed each other, movements rushed and messy, as though you didn’t wanna break some kind of spell that had woven itself around the two of you.

Javier’s tent, the inside of it, was exactly how you would have imagined. His guitar resting somewhere in the corner, the tent lit just by an oil lamp that stood on a box next to Javier’s cot. And, what briefly caught your attention, was the picture of the Holy Virgin standing right next to the lamp. She was beautiful, but her eyes pierced right through you, as if she was judging.

And she had every right to judge. Javier, the man who so strictly believed in his catholic God, let himself surrender to the temptation. Maybe it was obvious all along, the Devil had sent you as a way to test Javier’s faith.

Apparently, his faith wasn’t strong enough. As your lips connected again, he pushed you back to lie down. And as he was now completely naked upon you, one thing couldn’t have gone unnoticed. From his neck hung a pendant of the Holy Virgin, now brushing your skin as the man entered you.

Each time he rolled his hips into your core, it felt like a rebellion. A silent type of a protest towards himself, and what he believed in. The pendant swung with every thrust, brushing against your skin, as if marking you with its presence.

“She’s watching,” you whispered, one hand faintly scratching Javier’s back, the other touching the pendant, “judging.” Possibly, for the first time, you felt guilty. But why? You didn’t believe in his religion.

“Mhm, I know.” Javier replied, guiding your hand away from the Holy Virgin.

The man briefly pulled out, and with one movement flipped you over onto your stomach. With no warning, he slid right back into you, his pelvis now meeting with your ass when the tip of his cock reached places it couldn’t in missionary. You arched slightly, like a cat in heat, and the pleasure mixed just perfectly with the pain of his dick hitting your cervix.

“Perdóname.” Javier whispered, but you figured he wasn’t apologizing to you, even if you couldn’t see the way his gaze flickered to the picture next to his cot.

You felt his breath on your neck, warm and uneven, as he leaned closer, his hand gripping your waist tightly, grounding himself in the physical even as his mind battled with the spiritual.

You clawed at the cot beneath you, biting your lip to stifle your own cries as his thrusts became slower but harder. If there was any trace of the Devil lurking within you, it seemed Javier was intent on driving it out, leaving nothing but the rawness of sin and surrender.

Feeling you clench around him, and the way your breath was now coming in short gasps, he knew he wouldn't last much longer himself. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let your deliciously overwhelming orgasm flow through your body, reaching every part of it.

Just as you came down from your high, Javier pulled out with a strained groan, and no sooner you felt his warm seed across your back. Maybe it was the moment his post-nut clarity kicked in, but he wasn’t the most talkative as he cleaned you up.

He let you stay in his tent for the night. Your still tipsy mind figured it was the alcohol mixed with the sex that made him so tired. You were exhausted as well, after all. Except, falling asleep came easy to you, meanwhile Javier laid on his back, awake, for what could’ve been both half an hour or three hours.

He replayed the evening in fragments, and weighed them against the condemnation he felt. One of his hands reached to the pendant on his neck, it was around some morning hour. He hoped maybe a prayer would solve his problem. Maybe a prayer would be enough to feel peace.

“Madre Santísima, perdoname por lo que he hecho.” Javier spoke, his eyes closed as he tried to focus on how much he should regret what he had done.

Why did it have to be you? You weren’t the woman for him. A woman that believes in nothing would have been better than the woman who practices devilry. A woman who believes in nothing might have been easier to sway, to mold, to save. But you? There was no way you’d leave your magic that Javier was sure Satan had put into your hands.

Javier continued his prayer. “Perdóname por mis pecados, por dejarme llevar por la tentación de una diabla.” Maybe, after all, he was scared.

You blinked your eyes open. Though quiet, his whisper did manage to wake you up. He had no idea you could hear him, his eyes still closed as his prayer continued.

“No quiero perder mi alma. Ayúdame a resistir—”

You cleared your throat. “Seriously?”

Javier froze, his eyes opening and his gaze met yours. You were upset. There you were, letting yourself think that maybe he could warm up to you. That the night meant something to him.

You sat up. “You kill with no remorse, steal, lie, do God knows what else,” you listed with anger and disbelief, “but this − sleeping with me − is what you need to be forgiven for? This is where you draw the line?”

You huffed, attempting to leave the cot, the blanket slipping down your bare skin. The man’s hypocrisy made you feel filthy. Like sleeping with you was worse than murder to him.

His jaw clenched as he sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You don’t understand it.”

Tears burned your eyes as you put your clothes on. “Don’t act like you’re the victim. Don’t act like I dragged you into this. Like you didn’t want this as much as I did.”

Javier didn’t consider himself a victim to your seductive powers. He knew he was guilty, and maybe this made it even worse. “That’s not what I’m saying. I… I wanted you.”

“Then why the prayer?” You asked, crossing your arms on your chest for a slight illusion of comfort. “You either want me, or you think I’m the Devil.”

“It’s just…”

You interrupted him before he conjured the right words. “Do you think what we did was worse than the blood on your hands?” Your voice lowered. “Or is it just easier to feel guilty about because it doesn’t make you face the man you really are?”

That one night, or rather the morning after, proved to you something you pondered since you had met the gang. You’ve never killed, and you wondered how come these men could sleep with so many innocent souls on their conscience. Now you knew. The solution was to find something easier to feel guilty about.

Silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. Javier was looking at you now, but not with anger. He looked at you, knowing how well you had him figured out. He was completely exposed, his wretched soul bare before your eyes.

Javier had no answer for you. He stood up, wanting to say something, but he couldn’t make up anything that didn’t sound like an excuse. For a second he hesitated, wanting to reach out and take your hand in his, but he stopped himself.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You know that, Javier? Stick to praying. Seems to be the only thing you’re good at.”

With that, you stormed outside of his tent. The morning air was refreshing, different from the suffocating air inside the tent, where Javier stayed in stunned silence.

All you wanted was to get as far from him as possible. Finding a quiet spot near the outskirts of camp, you sat down and wrapped your arms around yourself, and that was when you allowed yourself to cry.

[iyoonjh]

Beyond Plus Ultra! – The anatomy of falling in love

Chapter 13: The Party Arc Nobody Trained For (except for that guy in a bikini by the pool)

wc: 12932 words

The night was thick with heat—sticky, heavy, almost indecent.

It clung to skin like a second layer, sliding down the backs of necks and behind knees, making clothes feel too tight, hair too much, air too little. Even the breeze had given up, leaving the sky suspended in a sultry, unmoving haze.

The kind of summer night where the ground still radiated the day’s heat, where the air felt like you could chew it. Where sweat beaded just from breathing.

It was the kind of night where you knew something would happen.

Yet, Soobin and his friends stood at the edge of Jay’s lawn like it was cursed land.

A massive two-story with white stucco walls and a modern black-trimmed roof, it loomed at the end of the street like a final boss in a college movie. Music thumped through the windows, vibrating down to the cracked sidewalk. Colored lights—blue, pink, a threatening red—pulsed behind the sheer curtains like the house was breathing.

The music was loud. Too loud. Soobin could feel the bass rattling through his bones, like some kind of ancient war drum signaling his inevitable downfall. The air smelled like a concoction of cheap beer, sweat, and a suspiciously fruity scent that Beomgyu whispered was “probably a vape, but possibly a potion.” The house itself was packed—people standing in clusters, yelling over the music, laughing like they actually enjoyed this level of chaos. It was, in every conceivable way, a completely foreign environment to them.

The lawn was packed. People lounged on blankets, sat on the steps, danced on the grass, and crowded around coolers like raccoons at a campsite. Someone had parked a vintage motorcycle halfway on the curb just for the aesthetic. Someone else was throwing a football in the dark. The air smelled like weed, citrus seltzers, and a distant hint of impending bad decisions.

And standing just outside the chaos, at the edge of the driveway, was Soobin’s friend group. Frozen. In formation. Like they were about to storm the beaches of Normandy.

Yeonjun’s face was frozen in disbelief.

He crossed his arms and scowled at the house. "I can’t believe I let you people drag me here. To his house. My sworn enemy. My rival."

“Dude, you agreed,” Sunghoon sighed, adjusting his jacket. "And Jay is not your rival."

“Yes, he is,” Yeonjun insisted, eyes narrowing. “We are the leaders of opposing factions. The captains of competing forces. He stands against everything I stand for.”

“Which is?” Taehyun asked, unimpressed.

Yeonjun faltered. “Well, for starters, my band is better.”

“That’s literally the only reason?” Hueningkai deadpanned.

“That’s the main reason,” Yeonjun corrected. “Also, his hair is too perfect. No man should have hair that voluminous and not use it for evil.”

“Sounds like jealousy,” Heeseung murmured.

Yeonjun gasped, scandalized. “How dare you—”

Hueningkai was quietly clutching the Tupperware of cookies he’d brought, wearing a Pokémon-themed hoodie like a security blanket. “Should I have brought drinks instead? Or like… a six-pack of charisma?”

“We’re not equipped for this environment,” Leehan said gravely, brushing imaginary lint off his hoodie. “There are shirtless men in the yard. I can’t compete with that. My torso is not party-approved.”

Beomgyu leaned toward the house, squinting. “Is that guy playing beer pong with one hand and petting a lizard with the other?”

“Wait,” Sunghoon said, eyes wide. “Is that a live lizard?!”

“I told you this place was lawless,” Yeonjun muttered. “I heard Jay once had a party with a mechanical bull and a live DJ who only played remixes of High School Musical songs.”

“I often hear Get’cha Head in the Game at the back of my mind whenever Beomgyu starts to ruin our campaign by being an idiot” Heeseung added solemnly.

Soobin hadn’t said a word.

He was standing a few feet behind the group, hands stuffed in his pockets, staring at the glowing doorway like it was about to suck him into another dimension.

He was wearing his nicest hoodie. The one he usually saved for first days of class or oral presentations. He had double-checked it didn’t have any mysterious gamer stains or frayed sleeves. He’d even brushed his hair. Twice. Used product and everything. Taehyun had said it made him look “presentable” which, coming from Taehyun, was basically a standing ovation.

And yet, he felt wildly, laughably unprepared. Like showing up to the Hunger Games with a fanny pack. Or entering an anime convention with a cat-maid costume. Or, more accurately, walking into a party where people looked like models and moved like those tall skinny slander Star Wars creatures from Kamino… while he still occasionally said “pog” unironically.

The truth was: he was still half-convinced this was a prank. That maybe Y/N had meant to invite someone else. Someone taller. Cooler. With an Instagram feed that didn’t look like a museum of vintage anime screenshots and cursed memes.

Any second now, the doors could swing open and someone could shout “Haha, gotcha! Back to the nerd cave, Dungeon Boy!” And he wouldn’t even be mad. He’d just nod. Accept the natural order of things. Crawl back into his hobbit hole with dignity.

But.

Then he’d remember her smile. That soft, shy, knowing smile she gave him every time they saw each other. The way her eyes crinkled a little. The way she leaned in when she talked to him, like he was actually interesting, like she wanted to be near him. And not just in a friendly, hey-we-both-read-Berserk kind of way. It had felt… different.

She had touched his hand at the ice cream shop that day. It was half a second. But he had replayed that moment in his brain like he did when he first watched Gojo arrive in Shibuya. Frame by frame. Emotionally scored. Academy Award-worthy.

And he’d seen her eyes linger a little too long whenever she thought he wasn't looking. He wasn’t crazy. Or… he was. But even crazy people were right sometimes, right?

Still, a part of him kept bracing for impact. For the inevitable plot twist. For her to turn around and say, “Oh my god, you thought I liked you? That’s adorable.” And it would suck. And he’d smile and laugh and say something self-deprecating. And then go home and uninstall all his dating sims in solidarity.

But another part of him—one that had gotten louder lately—was starting to wonder:

What if she actually does like me?

It was a thought that felt dangerous. Like leaning too far off a cliff to get a better view. But it was also… kind of wonderful.

Because lately, talking to her didn’t feel impossible. He didn’t stammer as much. He made her laugh. She teased him. She remembered things he said. She waved to him first. And when he texted her after class, she replied with too many exclamation points to be disinterested. God, they even flirted, right?

And then—then she invited him. To this. To Jay’s party. With her friends. Into her world. And maybe that meant something. Maybe that meant everything.

Soobin shifted his weight on his feet, eyes still locked on the doorway. His hoodie suddenly felt too tight. Or maybe his heart was too big for his chest now. Was that a thing? Did crushes make your ribcage shrink?

He let out a slow breath.

He was terrified.

But he was also… excited.

Hopeful, even.

Because Y/N had invited him. Not just anyone—him. The guy who once corrected her pronunciation of "isekai" and apologized for three days. The guy who'd hand-washed her tote bag. The guy who had started believing, little by little, that maybe he didn’t have to be someone else to be wanted.

And here he was.

At Jay’s party.

With his friends.

Dressed like they were about to crash Minecraft's movie premiere.

Because of her.

And maybe, that was enough for her.

“Okay losers. But like. We are at Jay’s house. Jay. Do you guys understand the cultural significance of this?” Yeonjun asked, pacing slowly in front of the group like a general surveying the battlefield. His brows were furrowed in betrayal and his My Chemical Romance shirt was “aesthetically” stained. “Jay’s band has—objectively—the worst tempo control I’ve ever heard, and that includes when Kai tried to beatbox to Animal Crossing music.”

“Hey,” Hueningkai said, wounded, “that was experimental.”

Beomgyu was already sweating profusely, not from nerves but from enthusiasm and the five layers he had inexplicably decided to wear. “Bro, you’re just mad his band is hotter than ours.”

“That’s not the point, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun snapped. “We are artists. Underground legends. And now we’re here? Like…like the cheese guys from Diary of a Wimpy Kid at the popular kids’ cutscene? I feel like I’m betraying my own lore.”

“I literally do not care,” Beomgyu said, licking the condensation off his canned Monster. “If there’s chips and a bathroom I don’t have to clean, I’m chillin’. Also, if Jay’s band wants beef, I came prepared.” He opened his denim jacket to reveal a kazoo and a suspicious-looking bottle of hot sauce. “I call this the chaos combo.”

“I swear to god,” Taehyun muttered, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Are we sure we were invited?” Heeseung asked nervously, adjusting his graphic tee for the tenth time. It had a wolf howling at the moon but, like, ironically. “What if it was like…a vibe-only invitation? You know, when someone invites you with their eyes but not with their soul?”

Everyone stared at him.

“Dude,” Sunghoon said, “what the hell are you saying?”

“I’m just saying we’re not vibe-coded for this house!” Heeseung defended. “Look at them! They have glowsticks and glitter and shirts that are—unbuttoned!”

“Okay, I wore deodorant,” Hueningkai said proudly. “Two layers.”

“I brought a card trick,” Taehyun offered mildly, pulling a rubber-banded deck from his pocket.

“You’re bringing sleight-of-hand to a sweat-drenched frat rave?” Yeonjun cried, absolutely scandalized.

Taehyun shrugged. “No one’s immune to card-based intrigue.”

“God, you’re so cool,” Hueningkai whispered, eyes wide.

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back with effort. “Okay. Listen. We’re tall. We have clear skin. Beomgyu has ADHD in a way people find endearing. We can do this.”

“You literally have vampire teeth,” Beomgyu said.

“I got them filed down!”

“Why would you do that?! That was your edge!” Yeonjun cried.

Soobin was quiet behind them, still watching the door like it might combust. His fingers twitched in his pockets.

Y/N liked him. She liked his friends. Right?

He still couldn’t quite swallow it. Couldn’t reconcile her—bright, funny, terrifyingly cool Y/N—with the memory of her looking at him like he was something precious. Like she saw through his hoodie and D&D nights and weird little monologues about anime lore and liked it all anyway.

He felt like a kid trying on his dad’s shoes. Slightly too big, slightly too ridiculous. But when he’d looked in the mirror tonight, he hadn’t hated the guy staring back. He looked…hopeful.

He’d never had that before.

Soobin looked at the door again. At his friends. At the chaos and glitter and heat waiting inside. At the lizard being patted by the beer pong table.

And then he said, “Guys?”

Seven heads whipped toward him.

“I think we should go in.”

Everyone froze.

Leehan blinked. “Like…now?”

Soobin nodded.

Yeonjun held up a hand. “Okay but if Jay challenges us to a band duel, I’m starting with Radiohead and ending with blood.”

Hueningkai looked down at his Pokémon socks and whispered, “If I die, Leehan can have my sarcophagus fish poster.”

“I will make us proud,” Heeseung muttered, pushing up invisible glasses like an anime protagonist mid-battle arc.

“Bro,” Taehyun said, clapping a hand on Soobin’s shoulder. “She’s into you. You got this.”

Soobin swallowed.

And stepped toward the door.

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The moment they stepped into the house, it hit them like a heatwave made of perfume, bass drops, and expensive cologne that smelled like mysterious trust fund baby.

Jay’s house was stupidly big for a college student. It had high ceilings, fairy lights strung across the living room like constellations, and a stupidly aesthetic neon sign that said “NO VIBES, NO ENTRY” over the hallway to the kitchen.

The party was in full swing. People were everywhere—dancing, shouting, laughing like finals didn’t exist. Someone was playing beer pong in the kitchen on a table shaped like a guitar. Someone else was doing pushups in the living room while two girls filmed him with glittery phones and zero faith in his form.

Beomgyu audibly gasped. “Holy shit they have three different chip bowls. One of them is just cheese balls.”

Sunghoon tugged his jacket sleeves. “Okay, if we keep moving we won’t look like we spawned in.”

Heeseung nodded like this was a war tactic. “Blend with the crowd. No sudden movements. Don’t make eye contact with the DJ.”

“Too late,” Leehan whispered. “He looked into my soul and I think he is trying to read my mind, why is this guy playing Oasis?”

“What in the name of Gandalf is happening?” Hueningkai yelped as a girl dressed as a literal fairy—glitter wings, sparkly face gems, and all—zoomed past him like she was late for a midsummer rave, nearly knocking him to the floor.

“Guys. That was a fairy,” Leehan said, dead serious, staring after her like he’d just seen a cryptid.

Taehyun sidestepped a group of shirtless dudes wearing inflatable pool floaties around their waists and squinted. “Okay, but like... are we already drunk?”

Soobin was trying very, very hard to walk normally. His heart was doing backflips in his chest. He’d caught a glimpse of the girl he came for and could swear his entire body was in flames. 

Y/N was already there.

Drink in hand, smile in full force, hair tucked behind one ear like she was about to wreck his whole existence with a simple “Hi.” She was standing near the living room, talking to Karina and Yunjin, and the moment she saw them—saw him—her whole face lit up like a stage light.

“GUYS!!”

She bounded across the room like a very pretty, very excited angel in heels, and Soobin forgot how to function as a person. Her eyes scanned the group—wide, expectant, thrilled—and then settled on him like he was the one person she wanted to see most.

“You made it!” she said, arms spreading like they were old friends or maybe, maybe something more.

Beomgyu choked on his own spit.

Leehan backed up into a potted plant.

Heeseung smiled and forgot how to close his mouth.

Only Taehyun, the unbothered king, offered her a smooth little wave. “Hey, thanks for inviting us. Cool place.”

“We’re gonna keep things chill tonight,” Y/N promised, stepping slightly closer, her smile warm and effortless. “We’ll hang, talk. No one’s gonna make you do body shots or keg stands unless you want to.”

Beomgyu immediately looked betrayed. “Wait. So we could be doing keg stands?”

“No one’s stopping you,” Y/N replied with a wink.

“I’m stopping him,” Taehyun muttered.

“Don’t stifle my growth,” Beomgyu said, placing a dramatic hand on his chest. “This is why I’m not evolving as a person.”

Y/N laughed and turned to Soobin, who was standing like one of the King's guards but in a very more awkward and goofy way–if that's even possible.

“Soobin,” she said, with a smile that hit him like a summer thunderclap, “you look nice.”

He blinked. Then, finally, after what felt like six loading screens: “You too. I mean—yes. I mean—thank you. I’m also... wearing clothes.”

Heeseung choked on his own laugh. “Smooth, Casanova.”

Soobin wanted to evaporate. “I swear I speak fluent English. Usually.”

“No, it’s okay,” Y/N giggled, bumping her shoulder into his lightly. “You’re doing great. You already look less terrified than Hueningkai.”

Hueningkai was still staring around the room like a Skyrim villager in the middle of a rave. “There’s a man over there juggling glowsticks and I think he’s on a leash,” he whispered to Leehan.

“Don’t judge him,” Leehan replied sagely. “It’s probably self discovery.”

“So,” Y/N said, clapping once and making them all jump a little, “I was thinking we could stay by the pool for a bit. It’s got good air circulation and it's also close to the bar. Less chance of getting flashbanged by the bathroom strobe lights.”

“There are strobe lights... in the bathroom?” Sunghoon asked, like she’d just informed him of a security breach.

“Why?” Heeseung added.

“No one knows,” Y/N said. “It’s part of the mystery.”

Then, she turned back to Soobin, her grin softening just a little. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Soobin felt his brain short-circuit. His mouth went dry. His hands were suddenly too big. His entire existence felt like a system reboot in progress.

Before he could even attempt a coherent response, he appeared.

Jake.

With an arm slung casually around Y/N’s shoulders.

Jake, who was effortlessly cool.

Jake, who looked like he had never panicked over sending a text message in his life.

Jake, who—at this moment—was way too close to Y/N.

“THERE’S MY FAVORITE GIRL!” he yelled over the music, leaning in with a grin so charming it could legally qualify as a felony.

Heeseung made a strangled noise.

Leehan literally ducked behind Sunghoon like a cartoon character.

“Oh,” Hueningkai breathed in realization, eyes widening.

Leehan let out a quiet, “Oh no.”

Yeonjun blinked slowly. “So. This is how it ends.

Sunghoon shot Soobin a sympathetic glance, already preparing a eulogy for his hopes and dreams.

Soobin’s stomach dropped.

“Uh,” Soobin stammered, staring at the boyfriend-coded arm placement. “You—uh—um—”

Taehyun, noticing the immediate distress, nudged Soobin with his elbow. “Hey, man. Inhale. Then exhale.”

Heeseung, who had zero intentions of making this easier, leaned over and whispered, “Oh no, dude, you okay? You’re looking a little—what’s the word—ghostly?”

“I’m fine,” Soobin lied, his voice hitting an octave only dogs could hear.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu had entered full conspiracy mode. “Wait, so are they—”

“They have to be,” Hueningkai muttered, eyes darting between Y/N and Jake. “That’s a textbook boyfriend arm placement.”

“You’ve never seen a textbook boyfriend arm placement,” Leehan reminded him.

“Exactly, which is why this must be it.”

Beomgyu took a long sip of his Monster and muttered, “You think they’re like…together together? Or like, ‘together in a way we don’t understand because we’ve never known the touch of a confident person’?”

Jake’s arm was still around Y/N’s shoulders like he was born there, his smile big and warm and just... easy. He laughed at something she whispered in his ear, and she laughed back, leaning into him casually like this was normal.

Which—for her—it probably was.

But to Soobin and the boys?

It was a full-blown crisis.

Jake was now rubbing Y/N’s shoulder affectionately, completely unaware he was killing Soobin behind her with anxiety. Y/N just giggled and elbowed him playfully.

“Stop being dramatic,” she said.

Soobin’s heart sank.

Of course she had a boyfriend. Of course it was Jake—handsome, charming, with abs probably carved by ancient Greek gods.

Heeseung, eyes big and shining with drama, gasped. “You got Jake’d. You got anime-rivalled. This is a love triangle. You’re the underdog!”

“This is not a triangle,” Taehyun muttered. “We don’t even know if—”

Y/N, meanwhile, had already turned to them again, her eyes crinkling like they always did around Soobin, completely unaware of the existential panic she’d set off. Jake’s arm was still over her shoulders, but he was now smiling directly at Soobin and the others.

“So,” Jake said, grinning. “You guys are YN’s friends? I’ve heard about you. Finally get to meet the legendary D&D crew. Oh what's up man?” he said to Taehyun who he was already acquainted with since they were both on the soccer team.

There was a beat of silence where no one responded because they were still processing the betrayal.

“Hey man, good to see you” Taehyun managed to say. 

“D&D is sick,” Jake continued, totally earnest. “I’ve always wanted to try it but I can’t do math unless I’m drunk. You guys play, like, with characters and everything, right? Like dice and spells and potions and swords?”

Beomgyu blinked. “You... want to talk about dice?”

Jake nodded. “Obviously. Y/N mentioned Soobin's campaign and it sounds insane. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the half-elf situation.”

Hueningkai blinked rapidly. “Wait, you’re not mocking us?”

“Mocking you?” Jake looked genuinely offended. “Dude, Y/N is always talking about how cool your campaign is. You guys built a whole world! That’s epic. You know how hard it is to get people to commit to anything for more than two weeks?”

There was a long, shocked silence.

Heeseung whispered to Sunghoon, “Is he... is he nice?”

“I don’t know how to process this,” Sunghoon whispered back.

Jake beamed at them. “Anyway, you guys want drinks? I’ll get us something. Y/N, what do they like?”

“Something that won’t kill them,” she replied, taking her arm out from under him casually and stepping forward toward Soobin again, clearly not noticing the complete social implosion that had just occurred. “They’re new here. We’re keeping things low-key.”

Jake gave a thumbs up. “You got it. I’ll be the designated bartender for Team Rocket.” He walked off but not before raising his eyebrows suggestively to Y/N and then to Soobin. Jake laughed and disappeared into the crowd with his golden retriever energy trailing behind.

The boys stood in stunned silence for a full five seconds.

“Shall we boys?” Y/N asked them already on the move.

“I'll go pee first,” Yeonjun said, heading to the suspiciously bright bathroom.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Y/N led them outside with a smile that felt slightly too tight on her face. The summer air wrapped around them like a wet towel—thick, sticky, and inescapable. Everything smelled like sunscreen, chlorine, and the artificial sweetness of spiked lemonade.

She took another sip from her cup, trying to keep her energy light, easy, like this was any other night and not the first time her worlds were colliding. She wasn't even tipsy yet, despite having been drinking for the past hour trying to keep her nerves down. 

Soobin’s quieter than usual. She glanced over her shoulder, catching him in that soft, blinking expression he always wore when he was trying to process too much at once. He’s usually chatty with me by now. Did I do something?

Behind him, Beomgyu was whispering something to Heeseung and giggling like he was five seconds away from setting off fireworks. Taehyun was calmly dodging a girl with a bubble gun, as if this was normal. Hueningkai was holding his phone up to check the Pokémon Go map, completely oblivious to the chaos around him.

“Alright,” she said, more to herself than anyone else, “time to introduce the anime club to my losers.”

The backyard was dimly lit with fairy lights and phone flashlights and whatever moonlight could muscle its way through the humidity. Her friends had already claimed the far corner—Karina in a white tank and linen pants looking like a Vogue spread, Giselle curled up with a drink in hand, Sunoo wearing sunglass at night was talking animatedly with Yunjin, and Jungwon half-listening while texting someone.

“Okay,” Beomgyu whispered behind him, “who’s the one in the sunglasses drinking juice like she’s in Euphoria?”

“That’s Karina,” Sunghoon said, squinting. “Don’t make eye contact. She looks like she’d hex us.”

“Too late,” Heeseung mumbled. “She already saw us.”

Y/N straightened as they got closer, trying to appear cool and composed, even though her heart was beating at the speed of a Mad Max soundtrack.

Y/N smiled and waved. “Hey! Look who I found.”

Her friends turned at once, and for a brief second, the silence was palpable.

Then Karina smiled, that slow, intrigued kind of smile she wore when she saw someone interesting in public and made it a game.

“These are the famous manga boys?” Yunjin asked, standing up to properly inspect them.

“It’s not like… a club,” Soobin said softly.

Karina tilted her head. “Is that the leader?”

“Technically Taehyun’s the Dungeon Master,” Hueningkai said.

“Of course he is,” Sunoo murmured under his breath.

Y/N pretended not to notice the way her friends were scanning the group like they were trying to catalog a rare new species of human. To their credit, they were being nice. Suspiciously nice. The kind of nice that meant “we’re trying very hard not to scare them but we absolutely have questions.”

“So,” Giselle started, swirling her drink like she was hosting a talk show, “do you guys all study the same major? Or…?”

“We study near each other,” Taehyun clarified smoothly, already pulling a deck of cards from his back pocket.

Sunghoon immediately elbowed him. “Why are you like this.”

“I brought magic tricks,” Taehyun replied, unfazed. “It’s a party.”

Beomgyu grinned. “He did one in the Uber. Our driver is probably still emotionally recovering.”

“He didn’t tell him the ring wouldn’t come back,” Heeseung added with a laugh. “Just said ‘thank you’ and got out of the car.”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “Wait, did you actually steal someone’s ring?”

“No, no—” Taehyun said quickly. “It was part of the trick. It did come back.”

“Eventually,” Sunghoon muttered.

Yunjin squinted at the cards. “Are they for real magic or emotional manipulation?”

“Both,” Taehyun said, shuffling them like a casino pro.

“Oh, he’s dangerous,” Karina smirked.

Beomgyu turned to Sunoo, who was adjusting his sunglasses under the patio lights. “Respectfully, sir, your eyewear is making a statement.”

“They’re for the vibe,” Sunoo replied, flipping them up for dramatic effect. “But also because someone turned the backyard into a club.”

“I respect that,” Beomgyu said, nodding like he’d just found a kindred spirit. “I once wore ski goggles to a party in July. Commitment is everything.”

“Was it snow-themed?” Jungwon asked.

“No, I just forgot my actual glasses, it was my grandpa's birthday,” Beomgyu shrugged.

There was a beat of silence, then Yunjin whispered to Giselle, “He’s definitely going to be our favorite.”

Giselle just nodded slowly. “Agreed.”

Beomgyu turned to Jungwon next, inspecting him like he was solving a puzzle. “You also part of the hot-and-confident club?”

Jungwon blinked. “I play soccer.”

“With me,” Taehyun added.

“Ah, that explains the bone structure,” Beomgyu said dramatically, as if solving a great mystery.

Sunghoon crossed his arms. “Why are you flirting with everyone?”

“I’m just building bridges, it's called networking” Beomgyu replied, gesturing vaguely like a politician.

“More like throwing glitter at strangers and hoping for the best,” Heeseung said under his breath.

Sunoo turned to Hueningkai, who had been suspiciously quiet — nose practically in his phone.

“What about you?” he asked. “You’ve said nothing this entire time. What’s your deal?”

Hueningkai looked up, serious as ever. “There’s a Scyther on the map.”

“A what?”

“Scyther. Gen 1. Bug/Flying. Good speed stats. I’m this close to catching it.”

Everyone just blinked.

“That was the nerdiest sentence I’ve ever heard,” Yunjin said slowly. “And I matched with a guy on bumble who said he coded D&D macros for fun.”

“Respectfully,” Hueningkai said, “I’d be more ashamed if I missed the Scyther.”

Leehan, sipping something green and probably toxic-looking that Sunoo gave to him, finally chimed in. “He’s being humble. Kai once ranked every evolution of Eevee based on emotional resonance and battle viability. It was a spreadsheet. With graphs.”

“I also color-coded it,” Hueningkai added proudly.

“What” Karina muttered.

“And what about you?” Sunoo turned to Leehan now. “You look like you have dark academic secrets.”

Leehan smiled. “I’m a marine biology major.”

“Oh. That’s actually—”

“Did you know clownfish can change sex if their dominant female dies?”

Everyone froze.

“Okay,” Yunjin said after a beat. “Weird way to start a sentence, but continue.”

“They’re sequential hermaphrodites,” Leehan continued, totally unfazed. “The hierarchy in their schools is actually super intense. If the top female dies, the largest male changes sex and takes her place.”

Sunghoon looked horrified. “What in the underwater Succession is that?”

“Nature is chaos,” Leehan replied, serene.

“Please don't tell him about the fish tank upstairs,” Sunoo muttered.

Giselle looked over at Y/N and whispered, “I love them. They’re so weird.”

“I know,” Y/N whispered back, already grinning.

But her eyes kept flicking to Soobin, who hadn’t said a word in the past five minutes. He stood slightly behind the others, hands awkwardly in his pockets, eyes scanning her cup again like it held all the answers to life.

He looked a little out of place.

A little too quiet.

She recognized that version of him. The one who still didn’t know how to act when she was surrounded by people who were loud, confident, the center of everything. He was so good at shrinking himself to make room.

But she didn’t want him to shrink.

She wanted him here.

Soobin, meanwhile, was stuck in a full internal loop.

He had mentally practiced exactly three conversation starters. None of them applied. He’d been ready for small talk. Not Sunoo’s sunglasses. Not Beomgyu ADHAging at every person in a 10-foot radius. Not marine fish gender politics.

Y/N looked at ease with them, laughing and throwing teasing glances and tossing her hair like she wasn’t slowly melting his internal circuitry with every blink.

And him? He was standing there like a Victorian ghost with social anxiety.

But then she turned and smiled at him again. Just at him.

And for a second, the noise blurred. The jokes, the lights, the clink of cups—all of it muted into background music.

She looked at him like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Karina then looked at Heeseung.

“So what about you?” she asked, playfully. “Are you the normal one?”

The group laughed—except Heeseung, who blinked like she had asked him to name all the moons of Jupiter.

“Me?” he said. 

Y/N immediately muttered, “Oh no.”

“That depends,” Heeseung continued, already warming up. “Do you mean like, socially normal? Because I once tried to explain necromancer mechanics to a cashier at Subway and she gave me a free cookie out of pity.”

Sunghoon groaned. “Don’t do this, man.”

“No, no,” Heeseung insisted, energized by the opportunity. “This is good context! See, in our campaign, I play a druid—but not just any druid. I multiclassed him with bard, which is super risky, but it made narrative sense because his whole backstory is that he was raised in a cursed forest by magical frogs.”

Sunoo blinked. “Sorry, magical frogs?”

“Yes,” Heeseung said seriously. “Sentient. Cloaks. They run an underground potion ring.”

Beomgyu burst out laughing. “They canonically have a council. It’s called the Lily Pad Pact.”

“You guys just let him do that?” Karina asked, wide-eyed.

“No,” Taehyun said flatly. “We had no choice. He wrote a three-page prologue and emailed it to all of us before the campaign even started.”

Jungwon was staring at him like he’d just grown a second head. “You’re making this up.”

“Are you kidding?” Hueningkai piped up. “He made us do accent warmups. Like we were prepping for Broadway.”

“I have a commitment to immersion!” Heeseung protested.

Yunjin, who had been silent through most of this exchange, suddenly leaned forward. “Wait. Say more about the frogs.”

“NO,” Soobin said instantly.

“Yes,” Sunoo countered, eyes wide. “YES. Say more.”

“Well,” Heeseung said, delighted, “my druid-bard, Eryndor—”

“Oh god,” Soobin mumbled, burying his face in his hands.

“—was originally intended to be a pacifist. His whole arc was about choosing music over violence. But then Beomgyu’s character—he plays a bard with a gambling problem—stole a cursed instrument from a sea witch, and everything went off the rails.”

“Did you say sea witch?” Giselle asked, incredulous.

“She cursed our loot table,” Heeseung said dramatically. “Every time we tried to open treasure, we had to roll for emotional damage.”

Sunoo wheezed. “I don’t know what that means but I love it.”

“Let me show you,” Heeseung said, pulling out his phone and opening a folder titled “Campaign Lore 💀.”

“He has spreadsheets,” Taehyun said, dead inside.

“He has a color-coded mood tracker for his character,” Beomgyu added, sipping his drink like it was tea.

Y/N turned to Jungwon, who was staring at the group in awe. “You okay?”

“I thought they were gonna be shy,” Jungwon whispered. “They’re not shy. They’re… a fandom.”

“I warned you,” she grinned.

Heeseung wasn’t holding back. Beomgyu was making Karina laugh. Hueningkai had Giselle huddled over his phone explaining why Umbreon was peak design. Even Sunghoon was awkwardly hovering by the drink table with Sunoo while Yunjin grilled him about his favorite horror tropes.

Just as Heeseung launched into a passionate explanation about why his druid’s backstory had been inspired by Studio Ghibli and a very specific mushroom documentary, the patio lights shifted—and the crowd parted like it knew something important was about to happen.

Jake arrived.

Grinning like the main character. Sun-kissed, effortlessly charming, and balancing five drinks with the confidence of a man who had never once doubted his place in the world.

Soobin’s brain was already on fire. Jake had an armful of drinks and that same easy smile he always wore around Y/N. The same smile he wore when he’d had his arm around her earlier. When she’d leaned into him. When she’d laughed at something he said.

And now he was back.

Back with beverages and beauty and boyfriend energy.

“Ladies, gentlemen, frogs,” he said, flashing his most charming grin, “your beverages have arrived.”

Beomgyu clapped. “Finally. I was about to drink the pool water.”

“Please don’t,” Taehyun said without looking up. “Leehan said someone probably peed in there”

Jake handed the first cup to Sunghoon, who sniffed it, nodded approvingly, and said, “Tastes like overconfidence and Blue No. 5. I love it.”

“Green slushie for whoever’s living on the edge,” Jake added, passing it to Leehan.

“Statistically, this will end in regret,” Leehan murmured. Then took a sip anyway.

Jake handed a soda to Taehyun with a nod of recognition—fellow soccer boys silently acknowledging each other like ninjas.

“Thanks, man,” Taehyun said.

Heeseung blinked. “You… got drinks for all of us?”

Jake shrugged, still grinning. “Obviously. You guys are guests. Besides, Y/N said you’d probably forget to hydrate if left unsupervised.”

Y/N choked on her drink. “I did not say that.”

“You didn’t need to,” Jake replied, then turned to the rest of the group. “How’s it going? Everyone surviving the popularity threshold?”

“We’re thriving,” Beomgyu said, slurping his punch. “I got emotionally attached to a sea witch earlier.”

“Was she hot?” Jake asked immediately.

“She was made of barnacles and betrayal,” Heeseung muttered, still scrolling through his campaign notes. “So, yes.”

Jake just nodded like that made perfect sense. “That tracks.”, then turned to Hueningkai. “Also, are you still playing Pokémon Go mid-party?”

“I caught the Scyther,” Hueningkai said proudly.

“I’m so proud of you, bro.”

Then, finally, Jake turned to Soobin, who had very obviously not moved from his awkward place beside Y/N. “And for you, sir, our most special guest” Jake said, placing the last drink into Soobin’s hands like it was sacred, “the only one I didn’t spill. Be honored.”

Soobin took it like he was being handed a live grenade. “Thanks…”

“And don’t worry,” Jake added, lowering his voice just slightly. “I got Y/N’s favorite too. I know how she gets when she drinks something too sweet—she starts talking about weird grammar rules and side quests.”

Soobin’s stomach dropped into the pool.

His brain screamed:

HE KNOWS HER DRINK ORDER.

HE NOTICED HOW SHE GETS WHEN SHE DRINKS.

HE CALLED IT A “SIDE QUEST.”

THEY’RE DEFINITELY IN LOVE.

Beomgyu squinted. “Why does Soobin look like Naruto when he saw his rival confess to his crush?”

“Because that might be what’s happening,” Sunghoon whispered back, sipping his drink with wide eyes.

Taehyun gave Soobin a light elbow. “Dude. Inhale.”

“I am inhaling,” Soobin whispered, lips tight. “I just can’t exhale.”

Jake clapped Soobin on the shoulder in the exact same affectionate, buddy-buddy, entirely-too-familiar way he had earlier with Y/N. “You good, man? You look... warm.”

Soobin nodded. “I—I’m just thinking.”

“Dangerous,” Heeseung muttered.

Jake leaned in conspiratorially. “You know,” he said with a wink, “I’ve heard a lot about you. Y/N says you’re the only person who’s ever successfully recommended her a manga she didn’t immediately hate.”

Soobin blinked. “She—said that?”

“Yeah. That’s a big deal, bro.” Jake sipped his drink, then added casually, “She’s picky. With guys too.”

Soobin nearly choked on air.

Jake tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Anyway, I’m just saying. If you’ve got recs like that, maybe you’ve got other talents too.”

“Did he just flirt with you?” Beomgyu whispered loudly.

“I don’t know,” Hueningkai replied. “But I feel like I should leave the room.”

“Yeonjun’s here,” Leehan announced like a royal herald, nodding toward the tall figure making his way across the yard with the swagger of someone who had definitely walked in late on purpose.

“Hey,” he said, barely glancing at the circle before grabbing a drink from a passing tray like he was in a music video. “Took me twenty minutes to find the bathroom. Who puts strobe lights in a bathroom?”

“You’re late,” Taehyun said.

“I was fashionably late,” Yeonjun corrected, then turned to the newcomers — Y/N’s friends — and did a quick once-over like he was calculating who had the most Instagram followers. “You’re the cool kids, huh?”

“Only in some time zones,” Karina replied, unfazed.

“I know you,” Sunoo said suddenly, squinting at Yeonjun. “You’re in that campus band. The one that covered Welcome to the Black Parade for literally two years straight.”

“That was one semester,” Yeonjun said, deeply offended.

“You guys played it at two different festivals,” Jungwon added, sipping his drink.

Yeonjun turned to Soobin like a betrayed little brother. “They’re attacking me.”

“You’re in a band?” Yunjin asked, interest piqued.

Yeonjun immediately perked up. “Yeah, vocals. Little bit of guitar. Nothing serious—well, we do have like three gigs coming up, and we were in the school showcase, and we might have an EP on the way—”

“Oh, cool,” Yunjin cut in. “I’m in a band too.”

Yeonjun smiled. “Nice. What’s it called?”

“It's my friend's Jay band.”

Yeonjun’s smile slowly flattened.

“Jay’s band?” he repeated, blinking. “As in... Jay Jay?”

“Yep,” Yunjin said, chipper. “He started it, I joined last year. I sing and do some harmonies.”

Yeonjun took a slow sip of his drink like it was poison. “That’s... cute.”

Beomgyu leaned toward Soobin and whispered, “He’s spiraling.”

Sunghoon whispered back, “That’s his ‘I’m pretending not to care but I’m emotionally crumbling’ face.”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

Yeonjun cleared his throat. “Nope! Not at all. Super cool. Just... y’know. Jay and I have different approaches to music.”

Jungwon, who was loving this, asked innocently, “Oh? What kind of approaches?”

“I approach it with depth and artistry,” Yeonjun said dramatically. “Jay approaches it with—what’s the word—shirtlessness.”

“His abs are a valid marketing tool,” Yunjin said, unbothered.

Yeonjun smiled at her with the calm, gentle rage of someone being slowly erased from a group project. “I’m happy for you.”

Heeseung leaned into Soobin again. “Bro thinks he’s Rodrick Heffley.”

Soobin didn’t respond. He was too busy still staring at Y/N — at the way her hair glinted under the string lights, how she laughed with her whole face, how Jake wasn’t currently around but his presence still lingered in Soobin’s mind like a very handsome ghost.

He wanted to ask. He needed to know. Were they— No. Not now.

Maybe not ever.

He sipped his drink. Tried to smile. Failed completely.

Beomgyu patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, bro. We're making it.”

“Why can’t I just be the guy who doesn’t vomit every time she makes eye contact with me?”

“Because that guy doesn’t have character development,” Beomgyu deadpanned.

Jungwon only smiled, amused by the whole thing—watching Soobin and his friends get borderline interrogated by his friends while Sunghoon clutched a Solo cup like it was shielding him from judgment. Y/N was visibly vibrating next to Soobin, trying and failing to look casual, while Beomgyu loudly declared that he would only stay if someone let him DJ.

Truth be told, Jungwon had been waiting for this moment.

The great collision of Y/N’s worlds.

He’d known it was coming the second she started blowing off hangouts with vague excuses like “library stuff” and “weird scheduling.” But really, she’d just been at that little manga shop with the tall boy who couldn’t make eye contact for longer than five seconds.

And honestly?

Jungwon loved this for her.

Because yeah, his friends were popular. The type to show up on student flyers and get tagged in party photos they didn’t even pose for. They were all stupidly good-looking, borderline rich, and had very curated, Instagrammable lives that screamed "we woke up like this" even though they absolutely did not.

But underneath the carefully gelled hair and designer sneakers?

They were just a bunch of really nice guys.

The kind who'd carry your books even if they didn’t know you. Who’d pull over in the rain because a dog looked lost. Who would destroy you in beer pong, then high-five you for the effort. They weren’t mean. They weren’t the stereotype. And that’s what people usually got wrong.

Sure, they made fun of each other constantly and competed over the dumbest things imaginable—who could take the best mirror selfie, who knew more about skincare ingredients, who could name more Taylor Swift bridges from memory (Jake always won). But they were loyal. And kind. And not even a little fake.

So when Y/N admitted—very shyly, very awkwardly—that she liked some guy from the manga shop, Jungwon hadn’t been worried. He just raised his eyebrows and went, “You? A nerd boy? Bold of you.”

And when she finally let it slip that his name was Soobin, and that he was tall and sweet and kind of didn’t realize how cute he was? Jungwon made it his mission to investigate.

Not because he was skeptical.

But because he wanted to like the guy too.

And standing here now, watching Soobin blink nervously at Karina while Hueningkai accidentally dropped a Poké Ball keychain into the pool and Leehan gave a dissertation on coral bleaching, Jungwon found himself…relieved.

Because Y/N had picked well.

And, as much as none of them wanted to admit it out loud, the others were excited to meet them too. Karina had grilled him for names and descriptions. Sunoo had practiced questions. Giselle had literally Googled “conversation starters for people who like anime.” Jake had pulled him aside earlier and asked, “Wait, is the tall one with the big eyes the one she likes? He looks nervous. That’s cute.”

Even Jay had asked if they were “cool or cringe,” to which Jungwon replied, “They play D&D every Saturday. Of course they’re cringe. But the lovable kind.”. Niki was also curious, calling Jungwon the day prior to ask about Y/N's crush and his friends.

And now, seeing it all unfold—seeing Soobin stare at Y/N like she was both terrifying and sacred, seeing Y/N trying to keep her cool while her entire aura screamed do not embarrass me in front of the crush—Jungwon couldn’t help but feel proud.

Her worlds weren’t just colliding.

They were merging.

And it was weird.

But it was really good weird.

Yeonjun seemed to have finally made peace with being inside the home of his sworn enemy Jay, and was now deeply engaged in a conversation with Yunjin about synthesizers—like they were co-hosting a podcast called Hot People With Strong Opinions About Analog Sound.

The rest of the boys were also surprisingly at ease, everyone sipping drinks and settling into the strange, sparkling chaos that was Jay’s backyard.

“Hey, has anyone seen Niki in the last half hour?” Giselle asked, glancing around.

“Oh, that’s never a good sign,” Sunoo said immediately, sounding genuinely alarmed.

“Niki?” Sunghoon asked, confused.

“You mean Niki, the one who played Travis Kelce in the official Taylor Swift biopic?” Beomgyu asked, dead serious.

“What??” Yunjin blinked.

“He’s Japanese,” Jungwon added helpfully.

“Yeah, but Taylor saw something in him,” Heeseung shrugged, as if that settled it.

“No, no,” Y/N said, trying not to laugh, “we’re talking about our Niki. The youngest one. Sometimes it’s concerning when we haven’t seen him for a while. Last time that happened, he got kicked out of Papa John’s. Again.”

She exchanged a look with Soobin, who nodded solemnly. He remembered that story. Vividly.

“We recently discovered he tried to unionize the employees,” Y/N added.

“And apparently almost set the sauce station on fire,” Jungwon chimed in, voice low like they were confessing a war crime.

“Ah,” Sunghoon nodded. “A menace.”

“He’s probably with Jay,” Karina said with a shrug. “Acting like co-host or something. Niki basically lives here now.”

“I swear he just moved in one day and never left,” Jake added from across the yard, where he was now attempting to contain some guy in a bikini who was trying to gather a group for a zumba session.

“You’re all describing him like he’s a cryptid,” Yeonjun mumbled.

“That’s because he is,” Jungwon replied.

No one disagreed.

Y/N turned toward Soobin again, eyes lighting up, in a moment of courage. “Soobin, want to sit by the fire pit? It’s quieter over there.”

And like that, Soobin forgot how to breathe again.

But this time, he smiled. Just a little. “Sure.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

Turns out, the fire pit wasn’t quiet at all.

In fact, it was a full-on enchanted forest ritual.

About fifteen people—some barefoot, most definitely high—were gathered in a semi-circle around the flames, staring into it like it was a portal to another dimension. Someone was whispering lyrics to a Fleetwood Mac song. Someone else was holding a crystal to the moonlight like they were recharging. A guy in a poncho was slowly waving a piece of sage.

“It’s giving ‘we’re summoning something,’” Y/N whispered.

“It’s giving ‘I should’ve stayed at the manga shop,’” Soobin whispered back, eyes wide.

Also? It was hot. Unreasonably hot. Like Y/N was pretty sure the fire was radiating on a level that broke several laws of thermodynamics. She took one cautious step closer and immediately felt her skin try to reverse-engineer itself into steam. If she stayed here any longer, she would literally melt into the grass—and that was before factoring in the fact that Soobin was next to her. Existing. Breathing. Smelling like fresh laundry and something warm and woodsy.

As if she wasn’t already combusting just from standing this close to him.

So, casually—very casually—she tugged on his wrist.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” she said, like it wasn’t the most nerve-wracking sentence she’d said all night.

And because Soobin would follow her into Mordor at this point, he nodded.

That’s how they ended up on Jay’s front porch—finally, a quiet place. It was dimly lit, far enough from the party that the music had faded to a soft thrum, and the summer air felt less suffocating. A faint breeze rolled over them, cool and comforting, and for the first time in hours, Y/N could breathe.

So could Soobin.

He leaned against the porch railing, his hands gripping the wood like he needed something to hold on to. He wasn’t shaking, but he wasn’t not shaking. The adrenaline was still there, buzzing under his skin. She’d pulled him away from everyone. Everyone. On purpose. Just them now. Alone.

No Jake. No Beomgyu talking about trauma frogs. No Yeonjun pretending not to care about Yunjin and failing spectacularly.

Just her.

Y/N stood beside him, looking out into the dark, quiet street. She didn’t speak right away. Neither did he.

But somehow, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was the kind of silence that only existed between people who had both been screaming inside all night.

And now, finally, they could hear themselves think.

“—I,” Y/N began, just as Soobin blurted, “—I.”

They both froze, then laughed—soft, startled laughter that immediately made Soobin’s heart skip like three beats in a row. He shook his head, cheeks already pink. “You go first.”

Y/N tilted her head, smiling at him in that way that made him forget how to breathe like a normal person. “I was just gonna ask… are you having fun?”

Soobin nodded immediately, too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, your friends are… surprisingly nice.”

He winced before the sentence had even landed.

“Wait—I didn’t mean they wouldn’t be! I just—uh—they give off a certain vibe and—”

“I know, I know,” Y/N laughed, waving him off. “They kind of look like they bite.”

“Exactly,” Soobin sighed, relieved. “But, like, in a cool, rich vampire sort of way.”

She let out a soft chuckle, her shoulder brushing against his as she shifted. “They’re harmless. Mostly.”

Soobin smiled. “It’s just different from what I’m used to. But… it’s good different.”

He said it quietly, almost surprised by his own words.

And Y/N’s smile softened at that—so genuine, it made his chest ache.

They sat shoulder to shoulder on the porch steps, a little closer than before, the air cooler now but still charged with something warm and electric. The music was muffled behind them. Just far enough away that it felt like the rest of the world had faded out, leaving just this—just them.

Soobin was dying.

Not in the dramatic, clutching-his-chest, collapsing-to-the-floor kind of way. No, this was far more humiliating. He was dying in the “I’m sitting next to the girl I’m 83% sure I’m in love with, and she’s so close I can smell her shampoo, and she smells like vanilla and flowers and eternal peace, and I might be sweating through my soul” kind of way.

His brain was scrambled. His heart was doing gymnastics. His palms were damp. His knees? Weak. His arms? Also weak. And his mouth?

Oh, his mouth was absolutely on a solo mission to destroy his life.

Because as he sat there, shoulder barely brushing hers, watching her laugh at something she’d just said—soft and warm and radiant like she’d been designed specifically to ruin him—his traitorous mouth chose violence.

“So…” he blurted out, trying to sound casual and instead sounding like someone whose consciousness had just left the chat, “how long have you and Jake been together?”

The moment the words escaped, he felt it.

The regret.

A full-body regret tsunami.

He could practically hear the brakes screeching in his brain. Abort. ABORT.

Y/N turned her head slowly, blinking at him. “You mean… living together?”

Soobin’s internal monologue: Living?! Did she just say—wait. That’s worse. That’s so much worse.

“Uh… what?”

She nodded, completely unbothered. “Yeah. Since first semester. His dad’s like a super famous football player or something, but he made Jake work for everything himself, so he had to find roommates. He is that kind of rich parent you know. That’s how we all ended up in the apartment. Me, Jake, Jungwon, and Yunjin.”

Soobin stared at her, the color draining from his face like someone had yanked out his power cord.

“You guys… live together?”

Y/N tilted her head. “Yeah?”

“Oh,” he croaked. “So you’ve, um… been dating for a while then.”

The way her whole body recoiled in sheer offense should’ve made him feel better, but instead he wanted to throw himself into the bushes and live there forever.

“WHAT?” she gasped. “Me and Jake? No, no, no—oh my god, no. It’s not like that. At all. Why would you think—wait, no, don’t answer that, oh my god—Soobin!”

“I’m sorry!” he sputtered, panic now fully activated. “It’s just—you guys were so close earlier, and he had his arm around you, and he’s like... really touchy, and his hair is perfect, and he probably has perfect abs, and I just thought—we all thought! I didn’t mean to assume, it just—it looked like a thing!”

Y/N burst out laughing, clutching her drink as she leaned back, her head tilting up to the sky like she couldn’t believe this was real. It wasn’t mocking. It was pure, delighted, stunned laughter.

“Soobin,” she giggled, her voice all soft edges and sunshine, “Jake is like… a golden retriever I share rent with. He has a literal chart in our kitchen for hydration tracking. He is touchy with everyone. He once held hands with a stranger because they looked lonely in a Starbucks. I promise you, it’s not like that.”

Soobin blinked, processing that, heart slowly descending back into his chest. “So you’re not…?”

“I’m not dating Jake,” she said, still laughing.

And just like that, the sky was blue again. The earth was round. Music was beautiful. Gravity made sense.

His soul returned to his body with a gentle ding! as if the universe had just given him one free respawn.

“Oh,” he said, a little breathlessly.

Y/N tilted her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You seemed… kinda jealous.”

Soobin’s entire face turned a shade of red that could only be described as forbidden strawberry.

“I—I wasn’t—” he started, then immediately failed to finish, because she was looking at him with that smile again, the one that made his entire nervous system glitch.

“Were you jealous?” she asked again, voice light, teasing now, like she already knew the answer but wanted to hear him suffer through saying it.

He groaned dramatically and buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know! Maybe?! Probably! This is a disaster. I’m not built for this. I’m a half-elf with no armor class. I’m emotionally squishy. I’m not supposed to take direct hits.”

Y/N laughed, nudging his knee with hers. “Well, I’d say you handled the boss battle pretty well.”

Soobin peeked out from between his fingers, squinting like she was the sun. “You think this was a boss battle? I almost died.”

“And yet,” she said, smiling, “you live to fight another day.”

He dropped his hands to his lap with an exaggerated sigh, finally smiling again, more relaxed now—like he was slowly realizing he didn’t need to keep bracing for impact. “Barely.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she said, grinning.

“You almost dated a golden retriever,” he shot back, surprising even himself.

Y/N laughed—an actual laugh, bright and delighted. “That literally never happened, you made it up in your head.”

There was a pause, a beat where they just looked at each other, shoulders still pressed close, the porch light casting a soft golden glow on their faces. The kind of moment that felt suspended in time. Then, gently, Soobin asked—quieter this time, with genuine curiosity beneath it:

“So… you’re single?”

Y/N smiled. The kind of smile that rewired him.

“Painfully,” she replied, with a dramatic sigh and a hand pressed to her heart. “Like, single enough that my Spotify algorithm keeps playing breakup songs just to humble me.”

He laughed at that, really laughed, and she beamed at the sound.

“Good,” he said before his brain could catch up.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Good?”

Soobin froze for half a second. Then, to his own shock, he leaned into it.

“I mean—good for me,” he said, lifting his shoulders in a shy shrug, eyes darting toward her and then back down to his hands. “Not, like, yay heartbreak, but... I’m glad I asked.”

Y/N tilted her head again, clearly amused. “Soobin… are you flirting right now?”

His eyes widened.

“I—I think so?”

She grinned. “Is this your first time live flirting?”

“First successful time,” he said, nodding solemnly.

That made her laugh again, and this time, he didn’t panic. He just watched her—her eyes crinkling, nose scrunching a little, shoulders shaking with amusement. And it hit him all over again: he could get used to this. This laughter. This closeness. Her.

He liked how easy it felt now. How his hands had stopped shaking, how the tightness in his chest had melted away, how her presence was no longer terrifying—it was calming. Warm.

Comfortable.

Y/N looked over at him, still smiling. “Well, for the record, you’re doing great.”

Soobin looked back at her, his heart going soft like overcooked ramen.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “I’m usually better with dice and stats and imaginary dragons.”

She bumped her shoulder into his. “Good news. I’m into that.”

He looked at her, really looked at her, and said—with a slightly crooked, hopeful smile—

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “You’re kinda winning the campaign right now.”

Soobin, who had never rolled a natural 20 in real life before that exact moment, could only blink and grin and try not to fall more in love right there on the porch. Too late, probably. But still, he couldn't help but fall.

The night had deepened around them, slow and sweet. The porch light buzzed softly overhead, casting a warm golden glow that flickered just enough to feel nostalgic—like something out of a coming-of-age movie. Somewhere inside, the music had shifted to something slower, dreamier, the bass thudding like a heartbeat under the floorboards.

Time had gotten blurry.

Y/N wasn’t sure when she’d finished her drink, or when Soobin offered to grab them both another and returned triumphantly with two cups filled with something suspiciously pink. It tasted like melted popsicles and regret, and neither of them had questioned it. Now, an hour—or was it two?—had passed, and they were still sitting on the porch steps, their knees brushing now and then, their laughter coming more easily.

It was the kind of night that made everything feel a little softer.

Soobin’s nerves had worn down to a gentle buzz, the alcohol humming through his limbs just enough to let him relax. He still didn’t know what he was doing, exactly, but that didn’t matter anymore. Not when Y/N kept looking at him like this.

Not when she laughed at his dumb jokes. Or tucked her hair behind her ear every time he got flustered, like she liked seeing him unravel.

She leaned her head back against the railing, eyes half-lidded, the lights catching the high points of her face. “So... confession,” she said, voice a little lower, a little slower, like the heat of the night had melted everything into a syrupy drawl. “I didn’t just come to the shop that day to pay you back after I accidentally stole the manga.”

Soobin blinked. “You didn’t?”

She turned to him, smiling—this lazy, dangerous thing. “No. I came for you, Soobin.”

That sentence short-circuited his entire existence.

His brain crashed. His heart screamed. His hands became painfully aware of their existence.

“Oh,” he said, eloquently. Then again, “Oh.”

Y/N laughed softly, reaching out to gently tap the edge of his cup. “I thought it was obvious! And now you’re malfunctioning again.”

“I’m trying to process!” he blurted. “You’re really pretty and you smell good and you just casually said that like I’m not hanging on by, like, one stat point.”

She grinned. “I know. It’s fun watching you short-circuit.”

He shook his head slowly, smiling down at his drink. “You’re evil.”

“I’m charming,” she corrected, shifting a little closer. “There’s a difference.”

Soobin dared a glance at her, and this time, he didn’t look away. “You’re both.”

The air between them shifted.

He could feel it—the weight of it, the awareness. Her gaze on him like it mattered. Like he mattered. And for once, the fear didn’t swallow him whole. It just sat there beside him, buzzing quietly, waiting its turn.

“I’ve never done this before,” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

“Done what?”

“This,” he gestured between them. “Talked like this. Flirted with someone I really like. Had a girl actually flirt back.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait… never?”

“I mean, I’ve panicked in close proximity to people before,” he offered. “But I’ve never had anyone look at me the way you do.”

She tilted her head, softening. “How do I look at you?”

“Like you already know how this story ends,” he said before he could stop himself. “And it’s a happy one.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.

It was thick with meaning, with questions unspoken and answers already known.

Y/N leaned in just a little. “You’re dangerous when you’re not nervous.”

Soobin’s smile went crooked. “I’m still nervous. I just leveled up.”

They both laughed, too warm and too tipsy and too caught up in the way this felt. Like it had always been coming. Like the summer had conspired to bring them here, to this exact porch step, at this exact hour.

A breeze rolled through, lifting her hair just slightly.

Without thinking, Soobin reached out.

Slow, brushing her hair back behind her ear with the gentleness of someone handling a secret. His fingertips barely grazed her skin, but it was enough to make her stomach flutter.

“You do that huh?” Y/N murmured.

“What?”

“Touch my hair when you’re nervous.”

He blinked. “Do I?”

She nodded, the tiniest smile tugging at her lips. “It’s cute. I think it’s your flirting mechanism.”

“I thought my flirting mechanism was public embarrassment and fainting.”

“That too,” she teased. “But the hair thing? That’s your signature move.”

Soobin let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling. “Well… I only do it because it’s always in my way.”

“My hair?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in just slightly—close enough to smell the vanilla again, close enough to feel the air shift. “It keeps getting between me and looking at you.”

Y/N’s breath caught. Oh. Oh, he was getting bolder.

“Wow,” she said, grinning. “Okay, that was smooth. Who are you and what have you done with Soobin?”

“I told you he’s evolving,” Soobin said, mock-serious. “Leveling up. Right before your eyes.”

“Careful,” she warned playfully. “You’re gonna make me fall.”

Soobin’s eyes widened. He looked like someone had just handed him the key to a secret universe. “You’re falling?”

Her smile turned lopsided. “Like, crashing.”

Soobin’s heart exploded. Fully. Irrevocably. Lovingly.

“Oh God,” he said, voice soft. "Good”

He signed again “Then I’m not the only one.”

For a moment, they just sat there. Fingers intertwined, knees still touching, porch buzzing quietly behind them, but not enough to interrupt the magic brewing between them. It felt like a scene out of a movie—like the kind of thing you don’t realize is the most important moment of your life until you’re replaying it three years later with tears in your eyes.

Y/N leaned back slightly, giving him a once-over with that sparkle in her eye. “You know… you’re actually, for real, kinda dangerous when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

“All flirty and confident and saying things like ‘I like you’ without combusting.”

He bit back a grin, head tilting. “You like it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. But I’m scared you’re gonna unleash, like, ultimate Soobin. And then I’m doomed.”

“You’re already doomed,” he teased, leaning his shoulder into hers. “You said so yourself.”

She nudged him gently. “Who are you??? I was trying to sound mysterious and desirable.”

“You are,” he said, and he wasn’t even trying to flirt anymore. Just telling the truth.

Y/N swallowed, heat rising to her cheeks again. “If you keep talking like that I’m gonna kiss you.”

Soobin blinked.

Oh.

He hadn’t even dared think that far. He was still trying to survive her laugh.

“I—uh—really?” he asked, blinking too fast. “That’s allowed?”

She laughed. “It’s heavily encouraged.”

He smiled—this quiet, glowing, overwhelmed thing. His heart was pounding, but it was the good kind now. The kind that felt like he was finally where he was supposed to be.

“I was planning to kiss you eventually,” he admitted.

“Eventually?”

“Like... maybe after a few successful text conversations and at least one awkward first date. I–just, I just really really, like really want to kiss you”

Y/N leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. “We can still do that. I just might kiss you first.”

And Soobin, who had once believed he’d never be the kind of guy girls wanted to kiss on summer porches, looked at her like she was the plot twist that saved his story.

“Okay,” he whispered, already breathless. “You win.”

And just like that—sunset long gone, fireflies blinking in the dark yard, her hand still tucked in his—he leaned in, too.

Soobin leaned in, heart pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it. His heart was thundering, but still slower than he meant to—like he was afraid the moment would vanish if he moved too fast. His breath caught somewhere between his lungs and the summer night, and his gaze flicked down—just once—to her lips. But his body was moving on instinct now—not from any kind of practiced confidence or romantic expertise. God no. He had zero experience in this.

He was just doing what felt right.

And right now, every molecule in his body was pulling him toward her.

Her smile. Her warmth. The way she was looking at him like he was the one she’d been waiting for. Like she wasn’t just tolerating his nervous stammering or awkward metaphors, but genuinely, fully choosing to be here with him. On this porch. On this night.

A breeze swept through, lifting her hair just slightly, and his hand moved without thinking—fingers brushing the strands back from her cheek like he’d done it a hundred times in dreams he didn’t dare tell anyone about. Dreams at 2 a.m., where she laughed at his jokes and leaned into his side and kissed him softly like he mattered.

And now—this felt like one of those dreams. Except warmer. Realer. Like the fantasy had color now, and smell, and sound, and the delicate flutter of her breath against his lips.

He almost wanted to pinch himself.

She’s really going to kiss me.

His brain repeated the thought on loop, like it couldn't fully compute it. She’s going to kiss me. Me.

Their lips met, gentle and tentative, like the beginning of a sentence neither of them wanted to rush. And it was so soft, so careful, so real that Soobin nearly forgot how to breathe, his whole world stopped.

She’s kissing me.

That thought repeated on loop in his brain, like it couldn’t fully compute.

Y/N. The girl I’ve spent entire nights thinking about. The one I convinced myself was too good for me. Too confident, too bright, too everything.

And here she was, lips brushing his, one hand still holding his like it was precious. Her lips were warm, tasting faintly of that ridiculous pink drink, and so soft it made his chest ache. His hand moved—hesitant at first—resting gently on her knee, grounding him in the fact that this was real.

She wants this. She wants me.

Soobin let the realization settle somewhere in his chest, warm and overwhelming and blissfully terrifying.

He didn’t know what he was doing.

He wasn’t following some mental playbook or advice column—he was following her. Her movements. Her breath. Her rhythm. The slight tilt of her head. The way she leaned into him like she’d been waiting for this just as long.

His body simply responded. Not out of experience. Not out of confidence. Just… instinct. Like some part of him had been waiting years to love someone like this. To be wanted like this. 

She’s kissing me. She’s kissing me. He could hardly breathe.

And Y/N?

Y/N felt like she’d just fallen off a cliff—completely weightless in that dizzy, golden way. Her fingers were still tangled with his, and she could feel how tight he was holding her hand, like he couldn’t quite believe it either. Like he was scared he’d wake up.

But she wasn’t dreaming.

Neither of them were.

They parted slowly, breathlessly, and he felt his lips still tingling.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. Her smile was lazy and soft, her cheeks pink. She looked so happy it hurt. 

“I think,” he whispered, voice hoarse with wonder, “I’m gonna need a minute to recover.”

Y/N giggled, brushing her nose against his, their foreheads nearly touching now. “Yeah?”

“That was…” He blinked, trying to remember how English worked. “You just completely deleted all my brain files. They’re gone. I have, like, four brain cells left and they’re all just clapping.”

She laughed.

Soobin blinked, then spoke, voice quieter than it had been all night. “Okay so, um… that was… I’m—”

She tilted her head. “You’re what?”

He licked his lips, tried again. “I’m new at this.”

Y/N blinked. Then smiled wider, amused and impossibly fond. “Soobin. You just kissed me like you were starved.”

His ears went red instantly. “I don’t—I’ve never really done this. With anyone.”

She squeezed his hand, thumb brushing across his knuckles. “That’s okay.”

“I just…” he exhaled, gaze dropping to her lips again before meeting her eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m doing. But... being with you? It just—makes sense. My body just… responds to you. Like it knows.”

Y/N’s smile softened, almost reverent. “Then you’re doing everything right.”

He blinked again, a little breathless. “I am?”

She leaned in, pressing her forehead to his. “You kissed me like you meant it. That’s what matters.”

Soobin exhaled a quiet laugh, eyes fluttering shut for just a second. “Okay. Good. Because I really, really did.”

And when she leaned in again, this time he didn’t hesitate.

He kissed her with the same honesty. The same slow awe. The same I-can’t-believe-you’re-real kind of energy that had been haunting him in silence for weeks.

And for the first time in forever, he wasn’t afraid of what came next.

He just wanted more.

She leaned in again.

This time slower, but surer—like the space between them had finally gotten tired of existing. Soobin’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t freeze. He didn’t panic. His eyes flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes, like asking for permission.

He didn’t need to. It was already written in the curve of her smile.

And when their lips met again—oh.

This one was different.

The first kiss had been nervous, electric in its hesitation. A question.

But this?

This was the answer.

Soobin kissed her like he was finally letting himself feel everything all at once. His free hand moved on instinct, resting lightly on her waist, fingers curling into the fabric of her top like he needed to make sure she didn’t vanish.

Y/N melted into him instantly, her hand slipping up to the back of his neck, her fingertips brushing the soft hair at his nape. She sighed against his mouth, and Soobin swore he felt that sound echo in his spine.

There was something unspoken passing between them—You’re real. I want this. I want you.

Soobin deepened the kiss just slightly, just enough to make her exhale a soft, surprised breath against his lips, and it sent a shiver down his back. His chest felt full. Too full. Like everything he’d been trying to hide inside had just broken the dam and spilled out of him in the shape of her name.

God, I like her so much.

The thought wasn’t even terrifying anymore.

Because she kissed him back like she already knew.

And wanted him anyway.

They pulled away slowly, reluctantly—his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathless and flushed, grinning like idiots who’d just stumbled into something too good for words.

Y/N was the first to speak, voice hushed, a little breathless. “Soobin…”

He looked up, dazed, still lost in the taste of her.

“Yeah?”

She tilted her head, that soft smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “You’re really good at that.”

He blinked. “At what?”

“That,” she whispered, brushing her thumb gently across his lips. “Kissing. For someone who’s ‘never really done this before’…”

“I’m just,” he said softly, “really inspired.”

Y/N laughed, full and delighted, before kissing him again—short and sweet this time, like punctuation.

And Soobin, stunned and floating, could only think one thing as he looked at her:

I hope she never stops.

Except—tragically, hilariously, predictably—she did stop.

Because just as Soobin was about to lean in again, to kiss her one more time (maybe two, maybe forever), there was a loud rustling from behind the bushes followed by—

“FINALLY, we found you—WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Heeseung’s voice shattered the night like a dropped glass.

Y/N pulled back, blinking, lips still parted in shock. Soobin’s face instantly went redder than the cursed fruit punch from earlier, his lips swollen.

There, standing at the edge of the porch steps like they’d just walked in on a soap opera cliffhanger, were Heeseung and Beomgyu—both breathless, slightly disheveled, and wildly out of place in this very soft, very private moment. Oh, and drunk, they were both drunk.

Beomgyu gasped like he’d witnessed a crime. “Boobie!”

Soobin choked. “Don’t—don’t call me that right now—”

“You homewrecker!” Beomgyu howled, clutching his heart. “Look at you! Mid-kiss! Flushed! Handsy! That’s our shy boy!”

Heeseung pointed dramatically, still catching his breath. “You had one job, and it was to be awkward forever. This is—this is betrayal.”

“I—what? I didn’t do anything!” Soobin protested, his voice an octave higher than usual. “She kissed me!”

“Ohhh,” Beomgyu grinned, turning to Y/N like he’d just discovered live footage of a historical event. “So you’re the reason our boy’s been spiraling.”

“Guilty,” Y/N said, unbothered, resting her chin in her hand like this was all very amusing. Which it was. A little. Maybe.

Soobin was seconds from either crawling under the porch or launching himself into space.

Heeseung, however, wasn’t done. “That's mind-blowing, very cute, but wow,” he wheezed, hands on his knees. “Anyway, we’ve been trying to find you for twenty minutes. Everything’s falling apart.”

“Hueningkai fell into the pool,” Beomgyu added.

“What?!”

“He was chasing a Gengar,” Heeseung said, like that explained everything.

“On Pokémon Go,” Beomgyu clarified. “He screamed, slipped on a towel, did a full backflip, and now Jay’s drying him off with a leaf blower.”

“There’s a leaf blower?!” Y/N asked.

“It gets worse,” Heeseung groaned. “Yeonjun saw Jay helping Hueningkai and immediately got jealous.”

“He said, and I quote, ‘He’s not the only man with strong forearms around here,’” Beomgyu added.

Y/N blinked. “He didn’t.”

“He tried to wrestle Jay for the leaf blower,” Heeseung said grimly. “Sunoo had to separate them. Taehyun said it was ‘deeply symbolic.’”

“I have to see this,” Y/N laughed, standing up. “This sounds like a train wreck.”

“You do not,” Soobin said quickly, grabbing her wrist gently. “Please spare yourself.”

But Y/N was already grinning, tugging him to his feet. “Are you kidding? This is the best possible ending to tonight.”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “You mean besides the part where you two were swapping spit on a porch?”

“Beomgyu!” Soobin hissed.

Y/N just laughed. “Honestly? No notes.”

Soobin sighed, but he couldn’t help smiling. Not when she was still holding his hand. Not when her thumb traced lightly over his knuckles like she wasn’t ready to let go.

Heeseung clapped a hand on Soobin’s back. “You okay, lover boy?”

“I was better two minutes ago.”

Beomgyu grinned. “Don’t worry. You’ll get back to the kissing some time, but now we gotta escape this cursed frat film.”

As the four of them stepped off the porch—Beomgyu and Heeseung leading the way with chaotic urgency—Soobin lingered behind, still holding Y/N’s hand like it might keep him tethered to the magic of the moment.

The air around them was still warm, humming with leftover sparks and the scent of whatever pink potion they’d been drinking. The porch light cast her in that same golden glow, her lips still slightly curved from their last kiss, and Soobin—well, Soobin looked absolutely heartbroken to be leaving her side.

He turned to her, just a little, eyes searching hers like maybe he could stall time, or at least borrow another minute.

“I really don’t want to go,” he said softly, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “But if I don’t, Yeonjun’s going to fight Jay in the driveway with a pool noodle and Hueningkai might drown in a kiddie float.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “So… heroic of you.”

“I try,” he sighed, 

She smiled for real this time “Go. Go save your little panda-folk.”

Soobin added with a small, reluctant smile, “Later... I will text you, okay?”

Her smile widened, soft and certain. “Definitely.”

Soobin exhaled like he’d just been given permission to hope again.

He squeezed her hand one last time, then forced himself to let go.

Every step away from her felt like walking backwards out of a dream—but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew.

He’d be back.And next time, nothing—not even for the sake of Hueningkai, the structural integrity of the party, and his dignity before Yeonjun throwing down with Jay in a leaf blower duel—was going to pull him away before he got another kiss.

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profiles: d&d saturday mass group | bling bling losers

author's note: ???HII??? THE PARTY CHAPTER IS FINALLY UP HOW ARE WE FEELING, bc i'm shaking

this might have been the cutest thing that has ever came out of my brain?? it me took a while to write this one, but i'm so proud of it to the point i cried writing their kissing scene!! it might be my favorite chapter so far! aaaaa please let me know in the comments your favorite parts about this chapter! i'm so excited to share this one with you guysss <3 lots of love always

thank you to everyone for reading this story, especially my beta reader and bsf @heejamas (def not niki who played travis kelce) <3

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